MARIA AND SARAH IN THE PARK....by Snowman

Maria waited by the elevator door and checked her watch again, nearly dropping the armload of files she carried. She was going to be late for the meeting, it was just a question of how late. Two of the elevators were out of service this week, and the others seemed to be running slow. She leaned against the granite column and worked her left heel out of one of the new pumps she had bought over the weekend, rubbing her arch on the back of the shoe. She probably could have gone a half size larger, she thought, but she knew they would stretch with a little wear. Still, it was going to be a long day if she had much walking to do.

Maria looked around the lobby, empty, except for the security guard who was reading a newspaper. “Come on,” she said to the elevator door, glancing at her watch again. The files grew heavier as the seconds went by. Maria pressed her back into the column and eased her heel out of the right shoe, which seemed to be the tightest of the pair. As she moved her foot from side to side, she felt the half empty shoe slide easily on the highly polished stone floor. “Where is that elevator?” she said under her breath. She glanced around the lobby again, and then pulled her stockinged foot all the way out of her shoe. She felt instantly relieved as she shifted her weight onto her bare foot, feeling the cool stone floor through her sheer stocking. Almost immediately, she found herself working her other heel loose from the remaining shoe.

Two of the six elevator doors were propped open, and she could see a work light and some extension cords leading into the elevator pit, but no sign of any workmen.

DING.

She had been waiting so long that the sound startled her. The elevator nearest to her opened and she struggled to work her foot back into the left shoe. She had knocked it over on its side, and was fumbling to stand it up and get her foot back into it. She knew the doors could close at any second, and she would be stuck here waiting for another elevator to come. Finally, she managed to work her left foot into the shoe, and leaving the other shoe behind, shuffled across to the elevator, stepped in and pressed the “door open” button. She stepped out of the elevator again to see the one person she had hoped to avoid, her friend Sarah. She and Sarah had been playing a game, for the last year or so, where each of them would attempt to steal the shoe of the other one in a meeting, or at lunch, or around the office. They called it a game, but she suspected that it had become more than that to Sarah.

Sarah leaned casually against the column where Maria had stood, arms folded in front of her, staring directly at Maria. She was balanced on one foot with her other leg extended toward Maria and her tan high heel positioned along side Maria’s empty shoe. Before Maria could open her mouth to speak, Sarah pulled her leg across her body in a wide sweeping motion, sending Maria’s empty shoe sliding across the floor. A man with an aluminum briefcase stepped out of another elevator, and the three of them watched as the shoe rocketed across the lobby floor. It stayed upright, but turned in a slow clockwise motion as it skated toward, and over the edge of, the open door of the elevator pit.

“Hi Maria. Must be the narrow heel again,” the man said, smiling and looking directly at her feet. Maria was wearing gray stockings that were very sheer, allowing her ruby colored polish to glisten through the shimmering fabric in the morning sunlight. Her narrow heels, high arches, and long well aligned toes had received more public exposure than she could have imagined, ever since she met Sarah, and even though she knew her feet were not unattractive, she was always self conscious when someone looked at them. “Maybe I’ll see you at the park,” the man said, puling his gaze away from the floor. He waved casually and continued on.

“Sorry”, Sarah said, as she watched the man exit the building. “I couldn’t resist. It was just too easy.”

Sarah watched as Maria slumped visibly, leaning hard against the elevator doorframe. She had taken one or both of Maria’s shoes before, but she looked genuinely upset this time.

“I’m already late for a meeting,” she said dejectedly. “I have new clients in for a presentation and I’ve been waiting for this damn elevator for at least five minutes.”

“Just go,” said Sarah, walking toward the elevator pit. “I’ll get your shoe and bring it to you. No tricks this time, I swear.” The elevator door closed between them.

“Doubtful,” Maria thought, and felt the elevator surge upward. She hoped the clients were already in the conference room, so that she could walk in without being noticed. She stepped off the elevator to find seven faces directed at her gray stockinged foot. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, trying to act nonchalant. “Trouble with the elevator,” she explained, extending her hand to the person closest to her. After completing polite introductions, she led Mr. Clemmons and the others into the office.

Thanks to Sarah, at one time or another, nearly everyone in her firm had met Maria in the hallway or elevator wearing one shoe, no shoes, nylons, one sock, one boot, no socks, barefoot, or any imaginable combination of the above. She was used to the looks of disapproval from her coworkers, but meeting guests without her shoes was always particularly unnerving. “Sarah, again?” asked Jill the receptionist, as they passed. Maria nodded and led the group to a conference room.

Several hours later, Maria was sitting at her desk with her remaining shoe dangling from her toes, when Sarah arrived with its mate.

Maria motioned to the chair across from her. “When you said you would bring me my shoe, I thought you meant next week or something.” They both laughed.

“I nearly had to wrestle some guy in a hard hat for it. And who was that guy in the lobby?” Sarah asked, launching into her favorite subject. “He looks like Mel Gibson, but taller, with a better tan.”

“Mauricio Vega. He’s an ad exec at Sigma Agency on 13. Friends call him Vig.”

“You have to introduce me to him,” Sarah said, handing the shoe across the desk. “And how does he know you have narrow heels?”

“Thanks to you, there isn’t a person in this building that hasn’t seen my feet,” she said, feigning anger. “Actually, I don’t really know him,” Maria smiled as she worked her heel into the shoe. “I’ve seen him nearly every Saturday jogging in Grant Park, and we recognize each other from the building. I had some running shoes that didn’t really fit right, narrow heel you know, and he told me about a store downtown that has running shoes in a wider variety of sizes. Lunch?”

Maria and Sarah went to their favorite restaurant and had lunch together, each keeping their feet firmly in their shoes, and beyond the reach of the other.

Maria was surprised to hear her doorbell ring at seven in the morning, especially on a Saturday. When she opened the door, she found a woman who looked like Sarah, but couldn’t possibly be her. “Since when do you get up before noon on a Saturday?” Maria taunted, leading the way to the kitchen. “And what’s with the costume?” In all the time she had known Sarah, she had never seen her wear anything other than expensive suits, or eveningwear.

“It’s a jogging suit,” Sarah said, modeling the multi-colored silk outfit, and continued on over Maria’s hysterical laughter. “I’ve been thinking about taking up jogging,” she said. The laughter continued.

“People don’t actual jog in those things,” Maria told her. “They’re for walking around at the mall.” Sarah looked undeterred, and unwilling to accept any fashion advice. “Finish your coffee, I’ll be right back.”

Maria returned wearing gray sweat pants and a matching top, and another navy blue sweatshirt with a hood over that. “Are you sure you don’t want to borrow a sweatshirt or something? It’s pretty chilly out near the lake.”

“The woman at Saks Fifth Avenue said she has a suit like this and she loves jogging in it.”

The sun was low on the horizon, but it looked like it would be a clear sunny day. It was cold in the shadows of the buildings, and several inches of snow lingered on the grass, not yet melted by the spring thaw.

When they reached the edge of the park, the sun felt warmer, but there was a persistent breeze from the lake. Horse drawn carriages meandered through the park heading north to the Water Tower for a long day of tourist traffic. There were several other joggers in the park already, and Sarah noticed a pair of twenty-something girls standing behind a park bench, each with one heel on the back of the bench stretching forward with their arms. “What’s with that?” Sarah asked.

“Warming up. A lot of people like to do some stretches before they run, especially when it’s cold out.”

It was cold out Sarah decided. The jogging suit was a thin silk material with a flannel liner. She wished she had accepted Maria’s offer of another sweatshirt. “Do you think we’ll see Mauricio today?” she asked, sounding casual, but answering a multitude of questions about her surprise visit this morning.

“Vig, and I’m sure we will,” Maria replied. “He always seems to be on the main parkway.” Maria dug her hands into the pocket on the front of the sweatshirt. “I usually start here and run this outer edge. A lap takes about twenty minutes.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Sarah said, sounding cheerful. She walked around the back side of a nearby bench and lifted her leg up, hooking her heel on the backrail as she had seen the other women do. “I used to be pretty serious about ballet.”

Maria stifled a chuckle, noticing that Sarah was wearing brand new Ralph Lauren tennis shoes that were poorly suited to running, and white ankle socks that had tiny lace ruffles around the top edge of the cuff. The socks reminded Maria of Sunday school, but she was also reminded about meeting Mr. Clemmons in her stockinged feet. “I think that’s Vig now,” she said, pointing toward the fountain. As Sarah turned to look in the direction she had pointed, Maria’s hands clamped down hard on her ankle, pulling her forward.

Sarah hopped around trying to maintain her balance, until finally, she had both hands on the top rail of the bench, one on either side of her thigh. Maria stood facing her, with her shoe on the bench seat for leverage, pulling on Sarah’s ankle in an exaggerated motion, but not really very hard. The look of shock on her face made it clear that she had been caught completely off guard.

“If you pull my shoe off, I’ll kill you,” Sarah said, sounding deathly serious.

Maria ignored the threat. “You know, I was just thinking about my shoe heading for the elevator pit yesterday, sliding along like it was on ice.” Maria looked over at the slushy surface of the half frozen fountain pool. “I wonder how this shoe would slide on ice?” She tugged playfully at the laces of Sarah’s shoe. Sarah began to struggle free, but Maria pulled on the heel of the shoe, exposing another half-inch of white sock. Several joggers passed by, looking at the women briefly.

“I swear, if you pull my shoe off, you will be so sorry.”

“This reminds me of the time at the airport,” Maria said, as she pulled on the heel of the shoe, exposing another millimeter of white sock. “The thing I remember about when you stole my shoe, is that it’s hard to catch someone if you only have one shoe. You just can’t run very fast with one shoe.” She gave the sneaker another tug, and Sarah’s heel was now fully exposed. Several more joggers passed, and another carriage rolled by.

“Come on! It’s freezing out here. There is no way you are going to leave me with one sock in the middle of a snow covered park.” Sarah said, but she sounded less menacing.

“We agree on that much,” Maria said, adjusting her grip on Sarah’s ankle and slipping her thumb inside the lace ruffle of the sock. She pulled her hand toward her, sliding it past the top of the ankle, exposing half of Sarah’s naked heel. Maria held the heel of the shoe in one hand, and kept a firm grip on Sarah’s foot with the other, her hand over the top of the instep, and her thumb resting inside the sock, below the ankle, and just above the arch. She took her other hand off the shoe, daring Sarah to grab for it. “Why do think I would leave you your sock?” Maria asked, sliding her thumb under the arch, the shoe dangling freely.

“Come Maria, don’t. I can’t go barefoot in this weather,” Sarah whined. “I don’t have my purse or any money, or anything.” Sarah temporarily lost her balance, accidentally pulling her heel a little further from the sock.

“This reminds me of when we were in that meeting and you stole my boot under the table. I was trying to find a way to get my boot back, but then you ended up taking my sock off too. I just kept thinking, please, at least let me keep my sock, but you didn’t. Boy, that was sure embarrassing, meeting Mr.Stoddard barefoot after the meeting.”

“I said I was sorry. Please.Pleeeeaase.Please.” Sarah pleaded. “Please don’t take my shoe, don’t take my sock, just stop it. I’ll do anything. I’ll go barefoot at the office for a week.

“Barefoot at work?” Maria asked in mock surprise, “big deal, you’ve gone naked at work.”

Sarah shuddered at the memory. “Maria. I’m begging. Please, please, don’t take off my sock.”

“Don’t be silly Sarah, I’m not going to take off your sock,” Maria said in a soothing voice, “You are!” Maria raked her thumbnail across the bottom of Sarah’s arch, earning a mixture of screaming, kicking and laughing from Sarah. Maria continued tickling her mercilessly, but stopped as some joggers and walkers came by. An old man and his dog eyed them curiously, but continued on.

“That right, stretch,” Maria said loudly, as the people moved out of earshot. Maria examined the situation again. Sarah’s shoe was almost completely off now, dangling and twisting freely. Sarah had managed to catch the tongue of the shoe between her first and second toes, leaving only the tip of her big toe still inside the shoe. Maria could see the shine of nail polish on her other four toes through the thin material of the sock. Another minute of tickling would produce and empty sock, but then what. Teasing aside, she couldn’t really leave Sarah on a park bench with one bare foot. She decided she would take the shoe for a few minutes, but probably give it back. She curled her thumb under Sarah’s arch again, and Sarah responded with more hysterics and pleading, but did not pull her foot away. After several minutes of tickling, one involuntary kick caused the sneaker to fall to the ground, but her foot stayed in the sock. Maria felt a rush of adrenaline at her power over Sarah, and she wondered how Sarah felt when it was Maria’s shoes in jeopardy. It wasn’t a sex thing, but it was strangely exciting. Maria pondered this question as she continued tickling Sarah’s nearly naked foot. Sarah continued to scream and laugh but steadfastly refused to pull her foot away. Finally, Maria opened her mouth wide, and pretended she was going to bite Sarah’s toes. Sarah shrieked with laughter and recoiled, at long last leaving Maria holding an empty sock.

“All right, you’ve had your fun. Now give me back my goddamn sock before someone sees me.” Sarah was hopping around on one foot holding the back of the bench for balance. After a series of complicated maneuvers, She stood at the end of the bench facing Maria, with one hand on the bench, pant leg bunched up near her knee, and her bare foot held well off the ground.

Maria looked at Sarah’s lean calf and pale white foot, thin with long straight toes, polished a delicate pink. Her exposed leg and foot seemed so sensual, delicate yet powerful. She was keenly aware the Sarah was beautiful, thin, athletic, vulnerable but self possessed. The overall effect was simple classic beauty shown in high relief against the cold artificial façade of the cityscape. Her silken hair move gently with the breeze and Maria thought she looked like a commercial for hair conditioner. Some special hair conditioner for princesses with only one shoe. Maria was not attracted to women, but wow, she was gorgeous. The effect lasted only seconds.

“Give me my goddamn shoe before somebody sees me standing here like an idiot!”

Maria tucked the shoe and sock into the large pocket in the front of her sweatshirt. “A lap takes about twenty minutes,” she said, starting to jog in place. “Say hi to Vig if you see him,” she added, and headed out into the park. Sarah shouted and took a few halfhearted steps after her, but quickly retreated to the relative safety of the park bench.

Maria was only gone for a few minutes before a twinge of conscience turned her back. When she returned to the bench, where Sarah was sitting with her foot tucked covertly under her leg, Sarah jumped up balancing on one shoe again, and still looking very angry. Maria kept her distance, although she would bet anything that Sarah would not touch her professionally pedicured toes to the frosty concrete sidewalk again. It would have been a bad bet. Sarah set her cream white toes on the sidewalk and walked calmly toward Maria. “Give me my sock.” Her eyes were ablaze, and she looked furious. Maria balled up the sock and tossed it to her underhand. Instinctively, Maria backed away as Sarah balanced on one shoe in the center of the wide sidewalk, and bent over to replace the sock on her foot. Without another word, she stood upright and walked toward Maria, who was already several steps into the snow-covered lawn.

“Give me my shoe,” Sarah said tersely. She stood at the very edge of the concrete, with her newly replaced sock just inches from the edge of the snow. Give me my shoe right now!” she repeated.

“Or what?” Maria asked stridently, emboldened by the five yards of snow that separated them.

Sarah plunged her stockinged foot into the snow and sprang at her with surprising speed, covering half the distance before Maria could even react. She turned to run, but the wet snow was slippery, and she found herself rolling to the ground, arms flailing, and Sarah’s shoe landing several feet beyond her reach. She scrambled to her hands and knees, reaching to retrieve the shoe before Sarah could get to it. Her hand caught the laces and she pulled the shoe to her chest, but before she could turn to see where Sarah was, she felt Sarah’s strong grip on her heels, as her own shoes were nearly pulled from her feet.

Maria was face down, propped up on her elbows. “All right. All right. Let’s have a truce,” Maria said, laughing now. Sarah summarily stripped off Maria’s right shoe and tossed it at least forty feet across the snow-covered lawn. She stood over Maria, with her one shoe planted in the snow, and her wet sock planted firmly on the seat of Maria’s pants, both hands pulling at Maria’s remaining shoe.

“What’s so funny?” Sarah hissed, pulling Maria’s sock down to her ankle with one hand, while tossing the remaining shoe aside with the other. “You know what I could really use right now?” Sarah asked dramatically, “A nice warm dry sock, like this one for instance.” Sarah ripped the sock off, and strode off toward the fountain, trudging through the snow in her one shoe and white sock, and waving Maria’s blue sock over her head. For good measure, she stopped to pick up one of Maria’s discarded shoes on the way. Sarah sat down on the wall of the fountain and stripped off her wet sock, throwing it to the ground. She put her toes into the warm, dry, dark blue knee sock, and extended her leg forward in and exaggerated motion, pulling the sock all the way up to her knee. “Much better. Now bring me my shoe,” she said to Maria, still lying on her stomach in the snow, propped up on both elbows with one naked foot and one blue sock pointing skyward.

“You bring mine first,” Maria shouted back.

Sarah picked up Maria’s shoe by the laces and dangled it over the water between the partially melted ice and the wall. “Bring me my shoe.”

After some deliberation, Maria scrambled over to her remaining shoe on her hands and knees, shook off the snow, and inserted her bare foot into it. She stood up and walked gingerly toward Sarah, stepping quickly each time her sock dipped into the snow. She walked over to the fountain leaving six wet footprints on the concrete apron, parallel to the larger ones Sarah had made. She sat down on the low wall, six feet away from Sarah. The sun had come up quite a bit and the warmth felt good on her face. She looked at Sarah’s empty shoe in her hand. “I’ll give you your shoe, but that’s it, O.K? A truce. Promise?”

“O.K.” Sarah said, smiling for the first time in a while. “I think maybe we should limit our shoe wars to indoors.”

Maria held out Sarah’s shoe at arms length, and Sarah pulled Maria’s shoe up and away from the water. Sarah leaned in and grabbed the rubber toe of her shoe, which was still wet from the snow. It slipped out of her hand, and she almost caught it with her other hand. Almost. The laces of Maria’s shoe escaped her fingers ,and both women watched their shoes disappear into the murky black water.

“It was an accident.” Sarah said.

“I know.”

Sarah moved toward Maria until she sat next to her. “Sorry,” she said, and put her arm around her friend.

“I’m sorry for taking your shoe in the first place,” Maria said.

“I’ve stolen your shoes enough times that I shouldn’t complain. It’s just that today reminded me of the schoolyard. Where I grew up in Iowa, I was always the tallest kid in my class, and the boys would always steal my shoes at recess and make fun of me because my feet were so big. In the winter time, the bell would ring and all of the kids would go back to class until some teacher would come outside and find me and my big feet stranded in the snow, sitting on the swings or the slide in my socks, or less.” Sarah buried her head against Maria’s shoulder.

“Your feet aren’t that big,” Maria said, stroking her hair.

“Eventually, I grew into them,” Sarah replied.

Maria wondered what this all meant to her friend, and wondered why Sarah had started the shoe stealing game in the first place. Like most things involving Sarah, she was sure the subject was quite complicated. Maria looked at her own toes outlined by the blue sock. She had never thought much about her own feet, until one incident, when her shoe had gotten stuck in a file cabinet at the office of a client. She remembered feeling very distressed, even terrified about being stranded without her shoe. She touched her toes to the heel of her remaining shoe and pushed it off of her heel, setting the empty shoe next to Sarah’s stockinged foot. “You can wear my other shoe.”

Sarah hugged her friend. “It’s O.K., I’m alright now. Put your shoe on before your cute little toes freeze. I appreciate the thought though.”

Maria looked down at her bare foot, red nails gleaming against her tan skin. It wasn’t so cold out now that the sun was up high. “You could throw it in the fountain if it would make you feel any better.” Sarah didn’t respond and they just sat there together silently.

“Hey Maria!” Mauricio Vega suddenly stood before them.

“Hi Vig. Vig, this is Sarah, Sarah, meet Vig.” Sarah looked stricken, but cautiously extended her hand to the large man. She started to put her stockinged foot into Maria’s empty shoe, but then pulled it quickly underneath her thigh, well out of sight.

Vig was obviously puzzled, but did not say anything about their missing shoes. He looked at Maria’s bare toes, stockinged foot, and empty shoe, and then at Sarah’s stockinged foot and shoe. Maria could imagine what the scene must look like. Two women that are opposites, a dark haired woman in sweat pants, sitting next to a aristocratic blond in a silk suit, one shoe off, both missing opposite shoes, but wearing identical socks on their adjacent feet, sitting next to a half frozen fountain, arm in arm.

Sarah broke the silence first with an agitated torrent of words. “Maria was just telling me all about her special running shoes, and then I took off my shoe, and then she was showing me her shoe, but my feet are bigger, and then…” Maria could see that Sarah was very agitated, and her face was getting a brighter shade of red with each poorly formed sentence.

“I knocked our shoes into the pool by accident,” Maria said convincingly, “and now we are both stranded here in our socks.” Maria pulled her knee to her chest, placing her bare foot on the edge of the wall and covering her naked toes with her hands. Sarah fell silent, but seemed more relaxed again.

“Your name is Vig?” Sarah asked shyly.

Mauricio explained that his friends called him Vig, short for Vega, and that he used to coach women’s track in his native Argentina. Sarah started asking him questions about running shoes, and eventually extended her leg in front of her, show Vig her stockinged foot, and pointing out that her arch was unusually high. Maria was always amazed at how easily Sarah flirted with men. Vig sat down with them and before long, Sarah had her stockinged foot in his lap, his hand on her instep explaining the importance of properly fit running shoes. Maria didn’t mind this at all, and was actually quite entertained by it all. Her mind wandered to how they might get home from here. Sarah had stolen the sock she was wearing while it was still dry, but the one Maria had been left with had found the wet snow several times. She did not welcome the thought of walking ten blocks in a wet sock.

Before she could worry too much, another carriage came by and Vig jumped up from the wall and ran over to talk to the driver. When he returned, he told them, “He’s not really on duty yet, but he said he would take us over to the taxi stand at the other end of the park.” Vig picked up Sarah, her knee socked leg dangling from the crook of his giant arm. “I’ll be back to get you,” he told Maria.

“I can walk,” she said, and padded after them, somewhat amused by the theatrics of it all.

Maria and Sarah sat next to each other facing forward in the carriage, and Vig unfolded a wool blanket and put it over them. He sat facing Sarah with another blanket on his lap and he pulled her stocking foot under it, rubbing her foot with both hands. It was certainly a nice day for a carriage ride they all agreed, and Vig talked the driver into taking his time getting to their destination.

Sarah pulled the blanket up to her chin and slouched in her seat, warmer now and seeming very happy. Maria looked over at Vig, who was focused intently on Sarah. She couldn’t say for sure, but it seemed like there was more than just foot rubbing going on under his blanket. Maria tucked her stockinged foot between her and Sarah, and Sarah rubbed Maria’s toes under the blanket. Maria extended her leg, placing her stockinged foot in Sarah’s lap, allowing both Sarah’s hands to make amends for loosing their shoes. The sun was warm, the rhythm of the carriage was enchanting, and she was almost lulled to sleep, until she felt the sock yanked from her foot.

Sarah had her eyes closed and did not look at Maria at all. Maria looked away from Sarah’s contented smile to see her discarded sock in the middle of the path, retreating from the carriage at a steady speed. Maria withdrew her naked foot from Sarah’s lap. So much for truce. .