laundry
Aside from seeing him in the hallway once as she left for work the other day, Ruby hadn't seen her next door neighbor in the last couple days. With a day full of errands ahead of her, she hadn't given him any thought that morning.
The hum of the dryers and the faint clinking of coins dropping into the machines filled the basement laundry room. She stood by one of the dryers, sorting through her basket, the rhythmic sound of water rushing into the machines nearby almost soothing.
She didn't notice the old woman until a voice broke through the quiet.
"You're new to the building, aren't you?"
Ruby looked up to see a frail but sharp-eyed woman standing nearby, clutching a laundry basket with neatly folded towels. Her silver hair was tied back in a loose bun, and she wore a cardigan despite the stuffy warmth of the basement.
"Oh, um, yeah. I moved in almost two weeks ago."
The old lady smiled kindly, but there was something in her eyes—a hesitation, maybe even concern. She shuffled closer, her voice dropping slightly.
"I've seen you up on my floor. You live near... him, don't you?"
Ruby blinked. "Who?"
The old lady leaned in conspiratorially.
"That man just down the hall from you. I don't know his name, but..." She glanced over her shoulder, as if someone might overhear. "I don't trust him."
Ruby's brows furrowed. "Why not?"
"He's strange. Always coming and going at the oddest hours. Never says a word to anyone, just stares right through you. And once..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I swear I saw blood on his boots when we rode the elevator together."
Ruby shrugged. "I'm sure he has his reasons."
The old lady wasn't convinced.
"Maybe, but it's not just that. He carries around this big duffle bag sometimes. Looks heavy. I don't know what's in it, but it can't be anything good." She sighed, her expression softening as she looked at Ruby. "I'm just worried about you, dear. So young, living all alone in this city... It's not safe."
Ruby forced a small smile, though the woman's words had planted a flicker of unease.
"Thank you for your concern, but I'll be alright."
The old lady studied her for a moment longer, then nodded slowly.
"Just... be careful, okay?"
As the woman shuffled away, Ruby turned back to her laundry, but her thoughts lingered on the conversation. She glanced toward the hallway leading to the stairs, her mind drifting to her neighbor-- and what the lady had said about him having blood on his boots.
Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought. She worked with animals in a medical capacity, so there had been times where she had gone home with blood on her shoes. She wondered if she had scared any old ladies in passing herself.
As she folded her freshly dried clothes, she considered the bruises she had seen on his face in the few encounters she had had with him. Bruises didn't necessarily equate bad news, but it wasn't something to ignore either.
Ruby continued folding her clothes, the soft rustle of fabric filling the quiet space. Her mind replayed the woman's words. She couldn't deny it was unsettling, but then again, this was New York City. People were weird. The city was full of strange characters. The things the lady described were hardly the worst thing she had heard about since arriving.
Ruby sighed, her hands momentarily pausing over a folded shirt. Old women were the worst for gossip. Ruby had learned to take anything a busybody said with a grain of salt. She'd been around enough people like that to know they'd find something wrong with anyone.
Still, there was that flicker of doubt. Her apartment wasn't in the safest neighborhood. She had been here long enough to know that.
The sound of the dryer buzzing to signal the end of the cycle broke her thoughts. As she grabbed her basket, she reassured herself. The old lady was just looking for someone to be upset at. And besides, she had more important things to focus on—things that didn't involve worrying about strangers' actions.
The first rays of sunlight slipped through the gaps in the broken blinds of Ruby's apartment, painting golden streaks across her sparsely furnished living space. The apartment was silent except for the faint murmur of city life seeping through the thin windows—a distant car horn, the occasional bark of a dog, and the gentle hum of a city fully waking up.
She'd been drifting in and out of sleep for the past hour, wanting to sleep longer to avoid the the responsibilities the day would bring, but her stomach had other plans.
Ruby padded into the kitchen, her bare feet meeting the cool linoleum floor with a shiver. She opened the cabinet and was greeted by the sight of her one, lone coffee mug. It was plain and white, she had bought it when buying her coffee machine. The small, pod-style coffee machine was one of few apartment upgrades she had bought so far.
With her coffee in hand, Ruby wandered over to the table-- the only piece of furniture that had already been in the apartment-- where there was stack of books varying in authors and genres. Armed with her favorite of the titles from the pile, she headed to the window in the living room. The window sill was just wide enough for her to sit sideways there, window on one side and living room on the other. She perched her legs up at an angle, leaving room under her knees for her coffee.
As her eyes skimmed the familiar words of the story, her attention drifted out the window. The alley below her apartment was coming to life in its own way. The clatter of a trash can lid echoed faintly, accompanied by the distant rumble of a delivery truck stopping on the next street over. The usual quiet chaos of her surroundings brought a strange kind of comfort—predictable in its unpredictability. She had briefly lived in an apartment in downtown Portland, and the city sounds reminded her of that period in her life. She had just graduated college, and just lost her mom.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby caught a flash of orange. She set the book down and leaned closer to the glass, peering out at the alley. There was the scruffy orange tabby she'd spotted a week ago. His fur was pretty nasty, but his stride was confident as he padded along the edge of the dumpster, tail flicking with purpose. Ruby smiled softly, a quiet laugh escaping her lips.
"Morning, dude," she murmured, her voice just loud enough to fill the room but not carry beyond it. She tapped the glass lightly with her fingertip, watching as the cat paused to sniff at something on the ground. The paper plate of wet cat food she'd left out last night was empty, the only evidence of it being a faint smear of sauce and a few stray crumbs. Clearly, her offering had been appreciated.
The cat, oblivious to her presence, leapt gracefully down from the dumpster and disappeared around the corner of the building. Ruby leaned back against window frame, her hands cradling the warm mug of coffee as she took another sip. She made a mental checklist for her day, lingering longest on her plan to go shopping for houseplants.
She couldn't have any pets in this apartment, something she had been pretty upset about, but she wasn't planning on staying here long. She had signed a six month lease on the place, hoping to find something better once that time was up. Having moved here suddenly from the west coast, she had looked for any veterinary technician positions at any clinic or hospital, and found the closest available apartment within walking distance once she landed a position. She had bought the plane ticket only an hour after receiving her official job offer in her email inbox.
Packing up to move isn't hard when you hope to leave almost everything you can behind, Ruby thought dryly.
She had enough experience and qualifications to be working in a much higher position at the veterinary hospital, but she wasn't quite ready to go right back into what she had been doing-- the work she had been doing in the vet science industry back when she was dating her ex-boyfriend, Ted. That's why she moved across the country in the first place.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there, staring off into space and sipping on her coffee. She tapped her fingers across her mug, listening to the soft clink, clink, clink of her long black nails against the ceramic. It was only once she finished her coffee did she emerge from her thoughts.
She got up, returning the book to the stack on the table and taking her mug to the sink. She rinsed it quickly with water, emptying it out and leaving it at the bottom of the sink to clean more thoroughly later. She hummed as she wiped her hands on the hand towel near the sink and made the short walk to her bedroom.
She did her usual routine- blast her playlist on shuffle, get dressed, do her hair, and do her makeup.
Once she had her water bottle, earplugs, headphones, and wallet in her tote bag, she was out the door with keys in hand. She locked the deadbolt, and tested the handle twice to make sure it was locked. She had only made it to the elevator before she felt the familiar disappointment at having to be away from her apartment. She hadn't lived there long and there was a lot to do to make it feel like home, but it was still better than being out.
She didn't think the universe needed to prove her point, but it did, as suddenly from down at the end of the hall, a neighbor dressed in leopard print yelled for her to hold the elevator door, to wait for her. She pretended not to see them as she studied the control panel, stepping into the corner to hide from sight, pressing the button for her desired floor level but then mashing the button with the little depiction of closing doors. As the doors slid to a shut, Ruby couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief.
Facing the crowds on the street and in the stores would be unavoidable, she knew, but she could hold on to her precious silence for at least the elevator ride down.
Not for the first time, she found herself trying to remember why exactly she had chosen NYC as the city for her to start fresh in. Too many damn people.