Carmine

I’m usually a ‘take things slow’ kind of girl, but there was something about her in the bar that night. I was sitting at a table in the back, watching my friends’ coats and purses while they were out on the dance floor. This was my usual role, and I suspected it was the only reason they still invited me out.

One second, I was cringing at the bitter taste of my drink, and in the blink of an eye, she was right in front of me, smiling brightly. Despite the little shock her sudden presence gave me, her dark green eyes had me fixated immediately.

“Van Gogh!” she said enthusiastically. I blinked twice. “What?” I asked, feeling confused, but also silly for needing to ask in the first place. She giggled and pointed at my tattoo sleeve. My arm is mostly covered in a copy of “Skull of a Skeleton with Burning Cigarette”, a painting by Van Gogh. I felt my cheeks get hot. I was so used to people just saying things like ‘cool skull’ when referring to my tattoo that her words hadn’t immediately clicked.

I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, worried I’d just blown my chances with this girl. “Uh, yeah, he’s a big inspiration for me. I’m a painter.” My voice dropped off on my last couple of words, so I was a little surprised when she not only heard me, but gasped. “Then you’ll be one of the few people who can truly appreciate my name. I’m Carmine.” As we continued to talk, I could have sworn carmine was becoming my new favorite color.

After a few more drinks and her laughing at my bad jokes, I was starting to build up the courage to invite her back to my place. Maybe my paintings would impress her and make me look cool. I was planning how I was going to ask her if she wanted to see my art studio when she said “It’s too loud in here. My place is right around the corner. Wanna get out of here?” My heart skipped a beat, and all I could do was nod as she grabbed my hand to lead me out of the bar. I saw a few of my friends looking shocked, but proud on the way out.

As she opened the door to her apartment, a gust of fragrance welcomed us. Her place smelled amazing. I detected hints of vanilla, lavender, rose, and something earthier I couldn’t quite place. The décor was similarly inviting. Dark jewel tones adorned almost every surface, making me feel like I had just entered the lair of a beautiful enchantress. She was dressed so casually when we met, but I could tell just by looking around that she had expensive tastes.

She invited me to sit on the lavish purple sofa and asked me if I’d like another drink. I’d already had more booze in my system than I was used to, but I said yes, knowing I’d need to extra liquid courage. I requested a vodka cranberry.

While she was off making my drink, I had a look around the room. I gravitated toward the bookshelf, running my fingers across the books’ spines. I was surprised to see no books on art, despite the lively conversation we’d had on the topic back at the bar. Maybe she was more of a video essay kind of girl. I smiled, thinking about how I watch video essays while I paint. We could watch them together. I looked up from the book titles to focus on the photographs higher on the bookshelf. A smiling young couple were in several, but Carmine wasn’t in any of them. I found this pretty relatable; I also don’t like being photographed. I was falling more for this girl by the minute.

“I’m out of cranberry juice, so I made your drink with pineapple juice instead.” I turned toward her and smiled big as she handed me my drink. As I took my first sip, she said “Pineapple is better for what I have planned for you anyway.” I choked on my drink and blushed hard. My awkward brain was desperately searching for something to say, so I pointed at one of the photos. “These are nice.” I took a big sip of my drink and wondered how my socially incompetent self had even made it this far. “Oh yeah, that’s my brother and his wife,” she said, grabbing my hand to lead me back to the sofa. On the way, I heard a jingle and looked down. I’d kicked a cat toy. “You have a cat?” I asked hopefully. She nodded and replied “Oh yeah, Oreo. They’re kind of shy, so you probably won’t see them.” Something seemed to change her mind, because instead of leading me to the sofa, Carmine redirected and led me to the bedroom.

I woke up with a smile on my face the next morning, but it quickly fell when I noticed Carmine was nowhere to be seen. My smile quickly returned when I noticed a note on Carmine’s side of the bed. I quickly snatched it and began to read.

“Good morning, my dear! I’m afraid I had to get going, and I didn’t want to wake you. Feel free to make yourself at home. I meant to show you my latest art piece last night, but I was having too much fun and forgot. It’s down the hall, second door on your left.”

Carmine hadn’t even mentioned to me that they made art. Could this girl get any better? I got out of bed and made my way down the hall. As I reached for the doorknob, I heard a desperate yowl coming from the other side of the door. My blood ran cold. I’d owned enough cats to know the sound of one in trouble. Something was very wrong.

I cracked the door open and an orange cat barged out of the room as a foul metallic stench attacked my nostrils. Before I could open the door any further, something told me to stop. I needed to catch that cat. After finally catching the poor little scared feline, I noticed dried blood on its paws. I checked and double checked, but the cat didn’t seem to be injured.  I held my breath as I checked the name on its collar. ‘Carmine’

Explaining myself to the police took some time, but I was finally cleared as a suspect for the murder of the young couple that had actually owned the apartment. ‘Carmine’, or whatever her real name was, was never caught. I don’t go home with strangers from bars anymore.