Welcome to the third installment of glucose: a writing group.
This session, our writers were asked to create something inspired by the following quote from Michael Ondaatje, "All over the world there must be people like us, Anna had said then, wounded in some way be falling in love--seemingly the most natural of acts."
It could be poetry, short story, random scribbling, whatever.
This is what we came up with.
Hope you enjoy!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Dalton Barber
Demon to Heaven
It's so hard to keep on this righteous path,
And I feel the slip!
Ten billion hands, reaching for me.
Trying to pull me back to the abyss.
Stones pelt me, the pain almost to much to bare.
Repenting 'tis not easy.
Temptations hands gripping.
Their evil claws ripping.
For I am a demon who has earned his halo.
And I testify on this day:
I shall not fall back to that demonic way!
Hell, you've had your chance.
A new path I follow,
Not a road of pleasure.
But one of diminishing sorrow!
The path this reformed demon takes,
Easy it is not.
But the outcome is Heaven.
Yes, Heaven!
For that,
I keep on this walk.
A Beautiful Face
The edge close to my way legs,
I falter.
Rocks fall from beneath my feet.
Gravity takes control!
Falling,
I can't catch my grip.
The ground coming closer
I fear I may hit.
Before I feel the crash,
I see your beautiful face.
To my surprise,
You catch me.
You whisper:
I swear,
It will all be okay.
It's so hard to keep on this righteous path,
And I feel the slip!
Ten billion hands, reaching for me.
Trying to pull me back to the abyss.
Stones pelt me, the pain almost to much to bare.
Repenting 'tis not easy.
Temptations hands gripping.
Their evil claws ripping.
For I am a demon who has earned his halo.
And I testify on this day:
I shall not fall back to that demonic way!
Hell, you've had your chance.
A new path I follow,
Not a road of pleasure.
But one of diminishing sorrow!
The path this reformed demon takes,
Easy it is not.
But the outcome is Heaven.
Yes, Heaven!
For that,
I keep on this walk.
A Beautiful Face
The edge close to my way legs,
I falter.
Rocks fall from beneath my feet.
Gravity takes control!
Falling,
I can't catch my grip.
The ground coming closer
I fear I may hit.
Before I feel the crash,
I see your beautiful face.
To my surprise,
You catch me.
You whisper:
I swear,
It will all be okay.
Sarah Henderson
Anna
Hey
Hey, what’s up?
Nothing. What are you doing?
Anna, what’s wrong?
Nothing. What are you doing?
Anna.
Nothing.
Anna, you haven’t called in three weeks and it’s the middle of the night.
So last night I had to go to the hospital. But it wasn’t a big deal.
Anna, quit fucking around.
Really, it wasn’t a big deal. Like, so last night at work my stomach was hurting a lot, and so Leanne gave me some pepto. I didn’t have a cup, so I just drank it out of the bottle, but like, it didn’t stop hurting, so I had a little bit more and it still wasn’t getting any better. And so then Mike said to just have some bread, but then Barrie told me to get back to work. So I did, but then I started to get sick and Mike brought me something to drink and so I drank it. But like, it wasn’t getting any better, and so I just drank the rest of the pepto.
Anna, why would you drink the whole bottle?
I don’t know.
What did he bring you to drink?
Well, I think it was ginger ale, but like I said, no big deal.
Were you drinking at work?
No...Well, I mean, I didn’t know. But like, it didn’t matter, cause I had to go to the bathroom to puke and then like Barrie told me I needed to go home, and so like I was getting my stuff together and I kind of threw up on the floor. So then Mike and Leanne took me to the emergency room, and then the doctor told me I was pregnant.
------
The shitty thing is, I don’t even like Cleve. He’s just this bum. But it doesn’t matter, really, because while we were sitting in the waiting room, I started bleeding, and so the doctor took me back and he told me that I wasn’t pregnant any more. So that’s why I called. But I have to go now, I’m late for work.
Anna, wait.
I love you, MMWAH.
Anna?...Fuck.
Hello?
Sam?
Anna?
Yeah. It’s me. Are you awake?
Anna it’s fucking 4 in the morning.
I know, sorry, I love you. MMWAH.
Wait, what’s going on?
You’re asleep, it’s fine, just forget I called.
No, sorry, I’m awake, tell me.
It’s nothing really.
I wish you wouldn’t say that. I won’t get mad, I haven’t gotten mad, please just tell me. I love you kid. You’re stuck with me ok?
I’m just drunk and tired and I want to come home.
Anna don’t cry.
I hate this. I hate living. I just want to die. Do you ever think that? Do you ever think it’d just be easier if I just died? You’d be happy. Mom would like shit a brick. Dude, I should just die. Someone should arrange it. I wasn’t meant to be here.
I love you, and I’d miss you if you died. You know? Who else would wake me up in the middle of the night?
Fuck you Sam.
Anna, seriously, you’re drunk. Everything will be better in the morning. Hun, just stop crying, if you want to come home, you can.
I can’t.
Why not?
I have to work.
You can get another job.
I can’t leave Cleve.
Anna...................can we talk about this tomorrow?
It is tomorrow.
I have to be at work in like three hours, Anna please.
Fine. Sorry I’ve ruined your life. Bye.
Anna, wait. I’m just tired. You aren’t ruining anyone’s life.
Yeah. I know. Whatever. Love you, bye.
Seriously, we can talk about this. I’m sorry.
Bye.
Anna?
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna, it’s me, please don’t be mad. I’m sorry, I was just tired. Please call me back ok hun? I love you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
It’s me again. Hun, I’m sorry, really, I was a jerk and a bad sister, please just call me back, I’m worried about you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna...quit fucking around, it’s been like three days, just call me back, please hun? I’m really sorry. Just let me know you’re alive? I know I was a jerk, but you know I’m not nice. I love you kid. MMWAH.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna, I’m sorry. Please hun.
Sam?
Anna? Where have you been, I’ve called you like a million times.
I’ve just been working, why are you so upset?
I mean, you call me at like 4 in the morning, talk about wanting to die, and then don’t call me back for a week...I’ve left ten thousand messages.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t call you, and why would I want to die? You’re fucking crazy Sam.
Don’t lie.
I’m not, don’t be a bitch.
Anna, you were drunk, you might not remember. Anyway, it’s not important, I’m just glad you’re ok. Can we talk?
Talk about what?
The hospital, the baby?
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Anna? Are you ok? Please talk to me about this.
Listen, I have to get back to work, Barrie’s been on my ass. I’ve got two two tops and a 7 topper, so I got to go. I love you.
I love you. I do. I mean it.
Yeah. I got it. Quit being stupid.
What up doe?
Doe? What the heck does that mean?
Shut up stupid, it’s like what up dog.
Since when have you said stuff like that?
Shut up.
Whatever.
What’s going on?
Nothing, I’m on my way to work. You know I have no life.
You’re a dork.
I know.
I talked to Ash. She might come down here.
Really? Why can’t y’all ever come see me?
Y’all? That’s fucking why...you’re a stupid southerner now.
Oh, and what up doe? That’s better? At least I’m not some trashy beach bum.
Shut up.
You’re flat as a board.
You’ve got watermelons on your chest.
Anna?
Don’t.
K.
I love you.
Love you too.
Hey babe.
Sam?
Who else?
I hate Cleve.
Hun.
No, shut up. I hate him.
Why?
I broke up with him last week and he was all butt-hurt about it. So like I was at work and he was standing outside for four hours and I had to get Mike and Barrie to walk me out, and Barrie was all like “Anna, you know it doesn’t look good for business when Cleve’s hanging around outside. I need you to seriously rethink your commitment to this company.” Dumb ass, it’s a fucking restaurant. Who the hell cares? I can’t stand him.
Barrie?
No, Cleve. Well, I hate Barrie too. But Cleve, why can’t he get over it. I mean, dude, I have love handles, why the hell is he that interested? LOVE HANDLES. He’s always going on an on about how beautiful I am and how he can’t live without me, I mean, Sam, come on...he’s a douche. Lame. He’s alive right now. Walking around, breathing, just fine. Eccch. It’s just gross. He can’t like me that much.
You are pretty fantastic.
Why are you always so damn stupid?
Someone has to be.
Well, you’re really good at it.
I know. I’m sorry he’s a jerk. So is this break-up permanent? Or are you going to get back together tomorrow?
Wow, you’re stupid and an ass.
Anna, come on, I’m just asking if you broke up because of a fight, or like serious long term consequences.
Long term consequences? Wow Sam........No like, he’s just pathetic. I got sick of him mooning over me all the time. It’s pointless, I don’t get why he’s always telling me he loves me and shit, but then like, I tried to hold his hand the other day in the car, and he like totally blew me off. Two faced bastard.
Are you ok?
Yeah. I mean, I’m not sitting on the couch eating Ben and Jerry’s, watching The Notebook and crying. I mean, I’m eating the Ben and Jerry’s, but only because it’s tasty. I like food.
Ok kid. If you need anything. I mean anything, just call. I promise I’ll stop being an ass.
I don’t think that’s possible.
You’re probably right. But I’m serious.
Thanks. Love you.
Love you too.
Hey.
Hey.
Do you remember when we were kids?
Um, yeah...
When mom took us to the mall to buy Christmas presents? Josh went with daddy to go get that stupid puzzle with his face on it? Mom wanted us to go get socks. Fucking socks for Christmas. And then I had to pee and you had to take me to the bathroom? And then Ash ran off to look at some shoes so Mom took off to go catch her? And then we came out and they were gone?
Socks aren’t so bad.
Do you remember?
Yeah, I remember. You started crying and I told you to shut up and you wouldn’t, so I hit you and then the security guys came up and told me to be nice to you and you told them that I had made Mom go away. I remember.
Ok...Just checking.
Anna?
Bye.
This is Sam, sorry I’ve missed your call, please leave a message.
You need to get a better message, you sound so fucking proper. Why do you always have to be so damn nerdy? You embarrass me. So I was thinking, what the fuck? A puzzle of himself. That’s what he gave her for Christmas. I hate her. You know that? I hate Mom. She yelled at me today. Yelled. On the fucking phone. She can’t even use the damn thing and she’s yelling at me on it. She told me he’s a loser. Why? He didn’t do anything to her? He’s not a bum, I just said that cause I was upset. I mean, she doesn’t know does she? Did you fucking tell her Sam? You did didn’t you? You fuck. I hate you. Traitor. Fucking bitch, you’re just like her.
This is Sam, sorry I’ve missed your call, please leave a message.
It’s me. Sorry.
This is Sam, sorry I’ve missed your call, please leave a message.
It’s me. You know what, I’m not fucking sorry. You did tell her. Well guess what? I lied. I fucking made the whole thing up. I’m the only fucking sane one in this whole fucking family. Don’t call me ok?
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna. Please talk to me. I love you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Please. I love you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna, I can’t just keep calling you. I’ll just wait until you can talk. I didn’t say anything. I love you.
Sam?
Anna?
I’m getting married!!!!
Anna? What are you talking about? To who?
Um, to Cleve, who else? Why would you ask that? I’m getting married!
Um. Congratulations.
Why aren’t you happy for me?
I am, really. I mean, I am.
------
You haven’t called me for months Anna, and now you’re getting married? To Cleve? You don’t even like him. You’ve called me so many times: “Sam, I hate him, he’s just a bum.” “Sam, he won’t leave me alone, I broke up with him, and he just calls all the time, he sits outside Outback, waiting until I get off.” “Sam, I had to hide in Cleve’s closet cause his brother came home, I was in there for hours. Just sitting there, waiting for him to leave, and then he yelled at me because I was breathing too loud. But Tony didn’t even know I was there. I hate him.”
Sam why are you crying?
Shut up, just shut up.
I love him.
How? How can you love him.
I do. He’s my husband. I love him.
I can’t do this right now. Bye Anna.
Fine.
Hi.
Sam, just be happy for me.
How Anna? I don’t know what to think. You change your mind every day. I can’t base anything off of you. I’ve never met the guy. How can I like him? I can’t. I don’t. It’s been two years. Two years of you calling me every week with a different story. I’m tired.
Sam.
Don’t.
Sam......
Fine.
I love you.
Yeah.
------
Ok. I love you too.
Are you going to come.
......Yeah. When?
Oh my God, I’m so excited. Ok, I think next month. I think we’re just going to do it on the beach. Just us and you guys and his family. Mom’s coming. I don’t want to wear white though. I’d just look fat. I’m going to do orange ok? Like this really bright orange dress, like a silk strappy one. I got these heels, they’re like peep-toe stilettos, but I don’t know if I can walk around in the sand in them. Like, I’m already falling on my face all the time, I can’t walk in sand in heels right? Like I should wear flips right? Those orange ones you got me right?
Yeah. Those would work.
Why are you such a bitch?
I don’t know. Sorry.
Ok, well, get over it. I’ll call you later, you have to get something to wear ok? Something cute, not granny looking.
Ok.
Love you.
Love you too.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
I don’t know if I can do this. I mean, Anna, I’m scared. I don’t know what to think. You’re my baby sister. I just can’t think about you getting married, not to him at least. I shouldn’t be saying this. Not in a message. Shit, I don’t know. I can’t ever tell you what I think when I’m actually talking to you. Anna, you were pregnant. Is that why you’re doing this? I can’t believe that you love him. I don’t. I don’t believe it. Shit.
Hello?
May I please speak to Samantha Harper?
Who is this?
Ms. Harper? This is Dr. David Lenard from St. Mary’s Medical Center. I’m calling because Anna was in a car accident this morning.
What?
She was involved in an accident this morning, sometime around 4 am, it took us some time to find information on any relatives. Anna’s currently in critical condition, but we believe she’s somewhat stable. Unfortunately, I can’t give you any more details over the phone. Is there anyone who would be able to come to the hospital?
I um. I mean. I. Um. I don’t know. I.... Is she ok? What kind of accident? I mean, is she alive? Is she going to die?
Ma’am, I understand that you are upset, but to give you further details, I really need someone to come to the hospital. All I can tell you is that she’s in critical condition.
I live nine hours away. Shit.
Ma’am?
I just need to call someone...someone’s got to help me, I’ll be there. Just don’t let her die. Please. I can’t.
Ms. Harper, when you arrive at the hospital, please ask to speak to me, Dr. Lenard. I will be able to explain further when you get here. Thank you.
Thank you? THANK YOU?
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
-------
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
-------
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
-------
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna. I keep calling. Every time I hope you answer. I know you’re just laying there. You’ve been lying there for months. I keep paying your bill. Keep your phone charged. I still want you to answer, even if the damn thing’s in my pocket. Shit Anna. I don’t know if you heard it. I don’t know if you were mad at me. Are. Are mad at me. ............. Can you be mad? I don’t know, I know you’re alive, but are you? Nobody will tell me anything. They just say “wait,” “we don’t know,” “her brain has activity, she might be normal, she might not wake up, we just have to wait.” I’m tired of that. I just want you to wake up. I miss you Anna. .........He had no right. He had no right to do that. I hate Florida. You know that. I live here now. Work here now. I go see you everyday. Alone. I don’t know. Maybe they think it’s weird. They don’t come anymore. At least, not when I do. Not everyday. Mom comes. Josh doesn’t. He did. I don’t know. He couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t know why I’m saying that. I can’t take it anymore. No one can. I just keep drowning in it. I mean, I don’t know what to do. Everyone fucking says that. It’s so damn cliched. Just like they say “it’ll never happen to me.” This whole story is cliched. I don’t know how you loved him. How am I supposed to forgive him? He hit you Anna. Hit you. And now you’re there..... You loved him. Love him. I guess it doesn’t matter. Will you still? Can I ask you that? ....................... Ash is fine. I mean, considering. She’s going to Berkeley next year. She’s always been the good kid. We all miss you. I miss you. I’m trying to just laugh it all off. I’m not too good at it. I’m not too good at forgiving him either. I’m trying that too. I guess you did love him. In your own fucked up way. ........................ They told me to cut it off. Your phone I mean. I don’t want to. I won’t hear you anymore. They said it isn’t saying goodbye, you’re still here. Halfway. Everything’s halfway. I’m only halfway here. That’s why I’m going to. I’m sorry Anna. I’m not giving up. I just can’t be half of anything anymore. I need to be something, I just don’t know what. Don’t give up Anna. Don’t. Come back. No one’s told me I’m an ass in forever. My head’s getting really big without you. I love you. Really, I do.
Hey
Hey, what’s up?
Nothing. What are you doing?
Anna, what’s wrong?
Nothing. What are you doing?
Anna.
Nothing.
Anna, you haven’t called in three weeks and it’s the middle of the night.
So last night I had to go to the hospital. But it wasn’t a big deal.
Anna, quit fucking around.
Really, it wasn’t a big deal. Like, so last night at work my stomach was hurting a lot, and so Leanne gave me some pepto. I didn’t have a cup, so I just drank it out of the bottle, but like, it didn’t stop hurting, so I had a little bit more and it still wasn’t getting any better. And so then Mike said to just have some bread, but then Barrie told me to get back to work. So I did, but then I started to get sick and Mike brought me something to drink and so I drank it. But like, it wasn’t getting any better, and so I just drank the rest of the pepto.
Anna, why would you drink the whole bottle?
I don’t know.
What did he bring you to drink?
Well, I think it was ginger ale, but like I said, no big deal.
Were you drinking at work?
No...Well, I mean, I didn’t know. But like, it didn’t matter, cause I had to go to the bathroom to puke and then like Barrie told me I needed to go home, and so like I was getting my stuff together and I kind of threw up on the floor. So then Mike and Leanne took me to the emergency room, and then the doctor told me I was pregnant.
------
The shitty thing is, I don’t even like Cleve. He’s just this bum. But it doesn’t matter, really, because while we were sitting in the waiting room, I started bleeding, and so the doctor took me back and he told me that I wasn’t pregnant any more. So that’s why I called. But I have to go now, I’m late for work.
Anna, wait.
I love you, MMWAH.
Anna?...Fuck.
Hello?
Sam?
Anna?
Yeah. It’s me. Are you awake?
Anna it’s fucking 4 in the morning.
I know, sorry, I love you. MMWAH.
Wait, what’s going on?
You’re asleep, it’s fine, just forget I called.
No, sorry, I’m awake, tell me.
It’s nothing really.
I wish you wouldn’t say that. I won’t get mad, I haven’t gotten mad, please just tell me. I love you kid. You’re stuck with me ok?
I’m just drunk and tired and I want to come home.
Anna don’t cry.
I hate this. I hate living. I just want to die. Do you ever think that? Do you ever think it’d just be easier if I just died? You’d be happy. Mom would like shit a brick. Dude, I should just die. Someone should arrange it. I wasn’t meant to be here.
I love you, and I’d miss you if you died. You know? Who else would wake me up in the middle of the night?
Fuck you Sam.
Anna, seriously, you’re drunk. Everything will be better in the morning. Hun, just stop crying, if you want to come home, you can.
I can’t.
Why not?
I have to work.
You can get another job.
I can’t leave Cleve.
Anna...................can we talk about this tomorrow?
It is tomorrow.
I have to be at work in like three hours, Anna please.
Fine. Sorry I’ve ruined your life. Bye.
Anna, wait. I’m just tired. You aren’t ruining anyone’s life.
Yeah. I know. Whatever. Love you, bye.
Seriously, we can talk about this. I’m sorry.
Bye.
Anna?
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna, it’s me, please don’t be mad. I’m sorry, I was just tired. Please call me back ok hun? I love you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
It’s me again. Hun, I’m sorry, really, I was a jerk and a bad sister, please just call me back, I’m worried about you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna...quit fucking around, it’s been like three days, just call me back, please hun? I’m really sorry. Just let me know you’re alive? I know I was a jerk, but you know I’m not nice. I love you kid. MMWAH.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna, I’m sorry. Please hun.
Sam?
Anna? Where have you been, I’ve called you like a million times.
I’ve just been working, why are you so upset?
I mean, you call me at like 4 in the morning, talk about wanting to die, and then don’t call me back for a week...I’ve left ten thousand messages.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t call you, and why would I want to die? You’re fucking crazy Sam.
Don’t lie.
I’m not, don’t be a bitch.
Anna, you were drunk, you might not remember. Anyway, it’s not important, I’m just glad you’re ok. Can we talk?
Talk about what?
The hospital, the baby?
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Anna? Are you ok? Please talk to me about this.
Listen, I have to get back to work, Barrie’s been on my ass. I’ve got two two tops and a 7 topper, so I got to go. I love you.
I love you. I do. I mean it.
Yeah. I got it. Quit being stupid.
What up doe?
Doe? What the heck does that mean?
Shut up stupid, it’s like what up dog.
Since when have you said stuff like that?
Shut up.
Whatever.
What’s going on?
Nothing, I’m on my way to work. You know I have no life.
You’re a dork.
I know.
I talked to Ash. She might come down here.
Really? Why can’t y’all ever come see me?
Y’all? That’s fucking why...you’re a stupid southerner now.
Oh, and what up doe? That’s better? At least I’m not some trashy beach bum.
Shut up.
You’re flat as a board.
You’ve got watermelons on your chest.
Anna?
Don’t.
K.
I love you.
Love you too.
Hey babe.
Sam?
Who else?
I hate Cleve.
Hun.
No, shut up. I hate him.
Why?
I broke up with him last week and he was all butt-hurt about it. So like I was at work and he was standing outside for four hours and I had to get Mike and Barrie to walk me out, and Barrie was all like “Anna, you know it doesn’t look good for business when Cleve’s hanging around outside. I need you to seriously rethink your commitment to this company.” Dumb ass, it’s a fucking restaurant. Who the hell cares? I can’t stand him.
Barrie?
No, Cleve. Well, I hate Barrie too. But Cleve, why can’t he get over it. I mean, dude, I have love handles, why the hell is he that interested? LOVE HANDLES. He’s always going on an on about how beautiful I am and how he can’t live without me, I mean, Sam, come on...he’s a douche. Lame. He’s alive right now. Walking around, breathing, just fine. Eccch. It’s just gross. He can’t like me that much.
You are pretty fantastic.
Why are you always so damn stupid?
Someone has to be.
Well, you’re really good at it.
I know. I’m sorry he’s a jerk. So is this break-up permanent? Or are you going to get back together tomorrow?
Wow, you’re stupid and an ass.
Anna, come on, I’m just asking if you broke up because of a fight, or like serious long term consequences.
Long term consequences? Wow Sam........No like, he’s just pathetic. I got sick of him mooning over me all the time. It’s pointless, I don’t get why he’s always telling me he loves me and shit, but then like, I tried to hold his hand the other day in the car, and he like totally blew me off. Two faced bastard.
Are you ok?
Yeah. I mean, I’m not sitting on the couch eating Ben and Jerry’s, watching The Notebook and crying. I mean, I’m eating the Ben and Jerry’s, but only because it’s tasty. I like food.
Ok kid. If you need anything. I mean anything, just call. I promise I’ll stop being an ass.
I don’t think that’s possible.
You’re probably right. But I’m serious.
Thanks. Love you.
Love you too.
Hey.
Hey.
Do you remember when we were kids?
Um, yeah...
When mom took us to the mall to buy Christmas presents? Josh went with daddy to go get that stupid puzzle with his face on it? Mom wanted us to go get socks. Fucking socks for Christmas. And then I had to pee and you had to take me to the bathroom? And then Ash ran off to look at some shoes so Mom took off to go catch her? And then we came out and they were gone?
Socks aren’t so bad.
Do you remember?
Yeah, I remember. You started crying and I told you to shut up and you wouldn’t, so I hit you and then the security guys came up and told me to be nice to you and you told them that I had made Mom go away. I remember.
Ok...Just checking.
Anna?
Bye.
This is Sam, sorry I’ve missed your call, please leave a message.
You need to get a better message, you sound so fucking proper. Why do you always have to be so damn nerdy? You embarrass me. So I was thinking, what the fuck? A puzzle of himself. That’s what he gave her for Christmas. I hate her. You know that? I hate Mom. She yelled at me today. Yelled. On the fucking phone. She can’t even use the damn thing and she’s yelling at me on it. She told me he’s a loser. Why? He didn’t do anything to her? He’s not a bum, I just said that cause I was upset. I mean, she doesn’t know does she? Did you fucking tell her Sam? You did didn’t you? You fuck. I hate you. Traitor. Fucking bitch, you’re just like her.
This is Sam, sorry I’ve missed your call, please leave a message.
It’s me. Sorry.
This is Sam, sorry I’ve missed your call, please leave a message.
It’s me. You know what, I’m not fucking sorry. You did tell her. Well guess what? I lied. I fucking made the whole thing up. I’m the only fucking sane one in this whole fucking family. Don’t call me ok?
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna. Please talk to me. I love you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Please. I love you.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna, I can’t just keep calling you. I’ll just wait until you can talk. I didn’t say anything. I love you.
Sam?
Anna?
I’m getting married!!!!
Anna? What are you talking about? To who?
Um, to Cleve, who else? Why would you ask that? I’m getting married!
Um. Congratulations.
Why aren’t you happy for me?
I am, really. I mean, I am.
------
You haven’t called me for months Anna, and now you’re getting married? To Cleve? You don’t even like him. You’ve called me so many times: “Sam, I hate him, he’s just a bum.” “Sam, he won’t leave me alone, I broke up with him, and he just calls all the time, he sits outside Outback, waiting until I get off.” “Sam, I had to hide in Cleve’s closet cause his brother came home, I was in there for hours. Just sitting there, waiting for him to leave, and then he yelled at me because I was breathing too loud. But Tony didn’t even know I was there. I hate him.”
Sam why are you crying?
Shut up, just shut up.
I love him.
How? How can you love him.
I do. He’s my husband. I love him.
I can’t do this right now. Bye Anna.
Fine.
Hi.
Sam, just be happy for me.
How Anna? I don’t know what to think. You change your mind every day. I can’t base anything off of you. I’ve never met the guy. How can I like him? I can’t. I don’t. It’s been two years. Two years of you calling me every week with a different story. I’m tired.
Sam.
Don’t.
Sam......
Fine.
I love you.
Yeah.
------
Ok. I love you too.
Are you going to come.
......Yeah. When?
Oh my God, I’m so excited. Ok, I think next month. I think we’re just going to do it on the beach. Just us and you guys and his family. Mom’s coming. I don’t want to wear white though. I’d just look fat. I’m going to do orange ok? Like this really bright orange dress, like a silk strappy one. I got these heels, they’re like peep-toe stilettos, but I don’t know if I can walk around in the sand in them. Like, I’m already falling on my face all the time, I can’t walk in sand in heels right? Like I should wear flips right? Those orange ones you got me right?
Yeah. Those would work.
Why are you such a bitch?
I don’t know. Sorry.
Ok, well, get over it. I’ll call you later, you have to get something to wear ok? Something cute, not granny looking.
Ok.
Love you.
Love you too.
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
I don’t know if I can do this. I mean, Anna, I’m scared. I don’t know what to think. You’re my baby sister. I just can’t think about you getting married, not to him at least. I shouldn’t be saying this. Not in a message. Shit, I don’t know. I can’t ever tell you what I think when I’m actually talking to you. Anna, you were pregnant. Is that why you’re doing this? I can’t believe that you love him. I don’t. I don’t believe it. Shit.
Hello?
May I please speak to Samantha Harper?
Who is this?
Ms. Harper? This is Dr. David Lenard from St. Mary’s Medical Center. I’m calling because Anna was in a car accident this morning.
What?
She was involved in an accident this morning, sometime around 4 am, it took us some time to find information on any relatives. Anna’s currently in critical condition, but we believe she’s somewhat stable. Unfortunately, I can’t give you any more details over the phone. Is there anyone who would be able to come to the hospital?
I um. I mean. I. Um. I don’t know. I.... Is she ok? What kind of accident? I mean, is she alive? Is she going to die?
Ma’am, I understand that you are upset, but to give you further details, I really need someone to come to the hospital. All I can tell you is that she’s in critical condition.
I live nine hours away. Shit.
Ma’am?
I just need to call someone...someone’s got to help me, I’ll be there. Just don’t let her die. Please. I can’t.
Ms. Harper, when you arrive at the hospital, please ask to speak to me, Dr. Lenard. I will be able to explain further when you get here. Thank you.
Thank you? THANK YOU?
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
-------
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
-------
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
-------
Hey, this is Anna...I’m out, but probably won’t call you back, so leave a message.
Anna. I keep calling. Every time I hope you answer. I know you’re just laying there. You’ve been lying there for months. I keep paying your bill. Keep your phone charged. I still want you to answer, even if the damn thing’s in my pocket. Shit Anna. I don’t know if you heard it. I don’t know if you were mad at me. Are. Are mad at me. ............. Can you be mad? I don’t know, I know you’re alive, but are you? Nobody will tell me anything. They just say “wait,” “we don’t know,” “her brain has activity, she might be normal, she might not wake up, we just have to wait.” I’m tired of that. I just want you to wake up. I miss you Anna. .........He had no right. He had no right to do that. I hate Florida. You know that. I live here now. Work here now. I go see you everyday. Alone. I don’t know. Maybe they think it’s weird. They don’t come anymore. At least, not when I do. Not everyday. Mom comes. Josh doesn’t. He did. I don’t know. He couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t know why I’m saying that. I can’t take it anymore. No one can. I just keep drowning in it. I mean, I don’t know what to do. Everyone fucking says that. It’s so damn cliched. Just like they say “it’ll never happen to me.” This whole story is cliched. I don’t know how you loved him. How am I supposed to forgive him? He hit you Anna. Hit you. And now you’re there..... You loved him. Love him. I guess it doesn’t matter. Will you still? Can I ask you that? ....................... Ash is fine. I mean, considering. She’s going to Berkeley next year. She’s always been the good kid. We all miss you. I miss you. I’m trying to just laugh it all off. I’m not too good at it. I’m not too good at forgiving him either. I’m trying that too. I guess you did love him. In your own fucked up way. ........................ They told me to cut it off. Your phone I mean. I don’t want to. I won’t hear you anymore. They said it isn’t saying goodbye, you’re still here. Halfway. Everything’s halfway. I’m only halfway here. That’s why I’m going to. I’m sorry Anna. I’m not giving up. I just can’t be half of anything anymore. I need to be something, I just don’t know what. Don’t give up Anna. Don’t. Come back. No one’s told me I’m an ass in forever. My head’s getting really big without you. I love you. Really, I do.
Nick Hilbourn
The Wedding
The quiet only ceased with the soft whisper of Lillian to Elliot. Her veil, a web of snowflakes falling before her eyes, shielded her face so she spoke through a frosty window to the cool winter blues and whites bruising on his cheeks.
“I think you should talk…to her,” she said.
Elliot glanced around the church at the stupefied congregation of family members and friends, heads on strings drawn to the small, lanky marionette figure in front of the door. His father stood beside the priest (using Eliot and his troupe of groomsmen as a barricade). He leaned forward and placed his hand on Eliot’s back, saying nothing for several seconds and then forced words through his lips with great effort.
“She’s right,” he said. “You should be the one.”
Eliot thought of asking his father and Lilian what it is he should say. People were turning to him now. They wanted an explanation, a word or two. Utterly perplexed, Elliot fought against the emotion surging up his body. Something tugged on his eyes, pain sliced a line from cornea to cornea along the back of his head. Everyone expected…something.
He stepped from the altar on to the aisle. Hands by his side, he had no staff or beard, but he was Moses walking the waters of stunned eyes gazing from either side of a frozen river of suits, ties and sun dresses. If he hadn’t been so nervous, he would have laughed at the movement of faces as he passed. It was an anti-wedding: the groom walking away from the bride. He was slow, but steady. Nothing could stop his movement. He was a natural phenomenon now as rigidly fluid as the cycles of the moon. His eyes weaved from side-to-side, never stopping on a single person, but, at some point, something forced him to look ahead, to look to the shadow at the end of the church. When he tried to look away his shoulders and legs became too rigid too move. Not wanting to stand still, he grudgingly agreed to glance toward the shadow hunkering in front of the large wooden doors of the church.
From the altar, she had been an echo of light bouncing off the stained glass windows. Her shadow resembled a puppet from the distant gaze of those standing with the priest, but once Elliot drew closer he saw the stringed shadow absorbing colors, soaking up shape from the swinging lamps overhead and the pins and needles of sunlight sneaking through an opening left by the large wooden doors not quite closed. For Elliot, there was a green, a black, a gray, a white, a purple. She was hideous once light embraced her. The red dress they had put on her was now a dead pink, as flat as carnations crushed for decades in the folds of a book. The fabric starved for sunlight yet unable to feast, still smattered with threads and clumps of soil and mud.
Eliot glanced back to the altar, hoping to receive some type of encouragement but faces disappeared in a curtain of white; Lillian, his father and the groomsmen were faint outlines shuffling back and forth, foot to foot, waiting for him to say something and dissolve the entire situation. He knew if he could make it disappear, then everyone present would forget about the trouble entirely. It was something ingrained in him, ingrained in all of them: to forget. At least, that was his hope. That everyone would forget, that everything would return to normal. He looked to the congregation for support, but they were opaque splotches of orange, pink, brown, white and black. It wasn’t distance; some of them were a few feet away. It was his eyes. They were clouding over, images drowning in them and when he tucked his chin against his chest and blocked his face from view to regain his vision - blinking his eyes over and over - a warm ticker-tape of tears zig-zagged over his cheeks. One stopped at his cheek, but was pushed by another to slide and rest in between the grooves of his lips. He slid his tongue along his mouth until the salty taste was gone.
As Elliot walked closer to the figure many people moved to the front of the church, mainly to escape from the smell, which was quite pungent. Elliot breathed through his mouth, but he could still taste the odor. It was moist and thick. Sweet but unbelievably foul: the sickeningly sugary perfume like chocolate too long in the sun. He wasn’t sure he would be able to go forward any farther, but the awkwardness of the situation quickly displaced the noisome scent.
When she came into full view, Elliot could see how quickly she had deteriorated in six months. The atmosphere had found her despite his best efforts. It had sniffed out her wooden cradle (though closed and hidden from the world), crawled through the earth, entered her through the nostrils, mouth, ear canal and melted her from the inside out until she was several clothes hangers swinging to and fro in a moth eaten closet of old clothes. Broomstick hair grew wild out of her head and her shoulders were lopsided so she stood like a badly built tree house. Her arms and legs faintly vacillated from side to side. Her hands were still, her calves unmoving, only her ankle and shoulders swayed from side-to-side. It seemed she was shuffling as well. The rigidity of her body, although it could have been fragility brought on by rigor mortis, seemed to tremble slightly, more so as he drew closer. And the closer Elliot got, the more sure he was that it was not the effects of bodily decomposition, but nervousness. She was scared.
It made him smile.
He opened his moth to say, “It’s okay”, but the words fell apart in his throat. He couldn’t say anything to her. Speaking to her was like speaking to a storm. There was nothing to do but watch and wait for it to be over.
Elliot ringed his hands through each other like he was squeezing the dampness from wet rags, wondering how he could make her leave without treating her roughly. He felt there was no other way but to guide her out, to touch her. Yet, he could not bring himself to do it. Her shoulders would be greasy and her body would be bulging with insects and invertebrates which were surely eating away her insides. The image was enough to make him want to vomit. The feeling subsided only when he saw a sparkle emanating from her right side. He bent down and saw a diamond ring on her finger. He smiled again, quickly widening it into an open-mouthed grin.
“You asked to be buried with it,” he said, not so much to her, but to himself as a reminder. He followed the sparkle up her slender arm bone wrapped hastily in sinew and the last vestiges of skin, gray and green like a moldy peach. He allowed himself to breathe out his nose. The smell was horrendous, yet he couldn’t get enough of it. It was her scent. It was very faint, masked almost entirely by the putrid odor of bodily humus, but it was there. An echo of an echo in the Grand Canyon, but it was there. He shook his head, imagining that what he was about to do next would look like to everyone. It would be shocking, but he couldn’t help himself. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the hard, sandpaper surface of her mouth. Her lips were gone, bone had seeped through skin and the nose was a nub protruding from her face, yet he wasn’t disgusted. She did not, could not return the kiss, but he felt a warmth shoot through his own body. Wiping away the oily residue from his mouth, he kneeled down and took her ringed hand. The congregation, already horrified by the kiss, now unhinged their jaws, rubbed their eyes, squeezed their palms against the heads – anything to block the image out or to add some sense of reality to a dream that had somehow snuck into the waking hours.
Nothing could be done.
Elliot rotated the ring on her finger until he found an engraving on its underside: “January 9”. He looked up at her, still smiling (unable to stop, in fact) and said, “That’s today.” It was the first time he had looked in her face for an extended period of time. She was expressionless. Hollow circles embraced kidney bean eyes that did not look but rather reflected the light of the room capturing it upside down with the distant glare of a pair of small camera lens. Yet, when Elliot touched her hand, she cupped it in between her two palms, a soft wet snap as she did so. Some in the congregation moaned painfully when the sound of the snap spread to them. Elliot’s hand in between hers, the palms rubbed back and forth. The ring dragged across his palm. Elliot looked into her eyes and saw his reflection.
“What is it?” he asked and felt the hands rubbing faster and faster, a rough gurgle rising in her throat. The smooth top of the ring feeling warm and comforting at first, but she continued doing it for several minutes. Elliot tried to stop the rubbing with his free hand, but she would not or could not stop. The ring dug into his palm and Elliot groaned. “Stop,” he said. “Stop, please…” She seemed unable to hear him and his voice grew louder and louder and louder. “Stop…stop….” Her eyes did not look at him, her hands did not stop rubbing and Elliot, finally, had enough.
“Anna! Stop!” he yelled and jerked his palm from between her two hands. Simultaneously, there was another wet snap, much louder, and the two hands fell to the floor. Elliot tripped over his feet and fell to his back, crawling backward, his eyes locked upon hers. He rubbed his hands roughly against the floor, leaving a scar of dark colors on the church floor. He gripped the side of a pew and pulled himself to his feet. “Out!” He yelled. “Out!” Each time he yelled, his eyes clouded and moistened until a caul of tears dripped from his eyes and dampened his face. His voice broke and his fingers trembled. He stomped toward her, arm outstretched, not angry but feigning so in order to continue moving with such force. With quick pushes he edged her closer to the door. She was unwilling to move or couldn’t move. It was unclear to him which was which. Yet, when she reached the large doors at the end of the church, he opened one of them and sent her flying over the front steps and onto the ground with a hardy shove. Her body landed with a wet thump and she was motionless. He wiped his hands against the door, ran a sleeve across his face and walked back to the altar, shaking her presence from his body as he did so.
His father and groomsmen watched him incredulously, brows furrowed, hands crossed defensively over their chests. Lillian was crying. Softly, attempting to keep it quiet, but the acoustics of the church picked up her low weeping and carried it up to the very top of the church and rained it down on the congregation.
“What?” he asked, taking her hand and pressing it against his chest. “What is it?” She wouldn’t answer him. He looked to his father and groomsmen and they said nothing. “Lillian, please, what is it?”
“Oh…Elliot…” she said, her words in short staccato breaths.
“What?” Elliot said, nearly yelling. Lillian took her hand from Elliot’s chest, removed her veil and dropped it to the floor.
“You’re still married.”
The quiet only ceased with the soft whisper of Lillian to Elliot. Her veil, a web of snowflakes falling before her eyes, shielded her face so she spoke through a frosty window to the cool winter blues and whites bruising on his cheeks.
“I think you should talk…to her,” she said.
Elliot glanced around the church at the stupefied congregation of family members and friends, heads on strings drawn to the small, lanky marionette figure in front of the door. His father stood beside the priest (using Eliot and his troupe of groomsmen as a barricade). He leaned forward and placed his hand on Eliot’s back, saying nothing for several seconds and then forced words through his lips with great effort.
“She’s right,” he said. “You should be the one.”
Eliot thought of asking his father and Lilian what it is he should say. People were turning to him now. They wanted an explanation, a word or two. Utterly perplexed, Elliot fought against the emotion surging up his body. Something tugged on his eyes, pain sliced a line from cornea to cornea along the back of his head. Everyone expected…something.
He stepped from the altar on to the aisle. Hands by his side, he had no staff or beard, but he was Moses walking the waters of stunned eyes gazing from either side of a frozen river of suits, ties and sun dresses. If he hadn’t been so nervous, he would have laughed at the movement of faces as he passed. It was an anti-wedding: the groom walking away from the bride. He was slow, but steady. Nothing could stop his movement. He was a natural phenomenon now as rigidly fluid as the cycles of the moon. His eyes weaved from side-to-side, never stopping on a single person, but, at some point, something forced him to look ahead, to look to the shadow at the end of the church. When he tried to look away his shoulders and legs became too rigid too move. Not wanting to stand still, he grudgingly agreed to glance toward the shadow hunkering in front of the large wooden doors of the church.
From the altar, she had been an echo of light bouncing off the stained glass windows. Her shadow resembled a puppet from the distant gaze of those standing with the priest, but once Elliot drew closer he saw the stringed shadow absorbing colors, soaking up shape from the swinging lamps overhead and the pins and needles of sunlight sneaking through an opening left by the large wooden doors not quite closed. For Elliot, there was a green, a black, a gray, a white, a purple. She was hideous once light embraced her. The red dress they had put on her was now a dead pink, as flat as carnations crushed for decades in the folds of a book. The fabric starved for sunlight yet unable to feast, still smattered with threads and clumps of soil and mud.
Eliot glanced back to the altar, hoping to receive some type of encouragement but faces disappeared in a curtain of white; Lillian, his father and the groomsmen were faint outlines shuffling back and forth, foot to foot, waiting for him to say something and dissolve the entire situation. He knew if he could make it disappear, then everyone present would forget about the trouble entirely. It was something ingrained in him, ingrained in all of them: to forget. At least, that was his hope. That everyone would forget, that everything would return to normal. He looked to the congregation for support, but they were opaque splotches of orange, pink, brown, white and black. It wasn’t distance; some of them were a few feet away. It was his eyes. They were clouding over, images drowning in them and when he tucked his chin against his chest and blocked his face from view to regain his vision - blinking his eyes over and over - a warm ticker-tape of tears zig-zagged over his cheeks. One stopped at his cheek, but was pushed by another to slide and rest in between the grooves of his lips. He slid his tongue along his mouth until the salty taste was gone.
As Elliot walked closer to the figure many people moved to the front of the church, mainly to escape from the smell, which was quite pungent. Elliot breathed through his mouth, but he could still taste the odor. It was moist and thick. Sweet but unbelievably foul: the sickeningly sugary perfume like chocolate too long in the sun. He wasn’t sure he would be able to go forward any farther, but the awkwardness of the situation quickly displaced the noisome scent.
When she came into full view, Elliot could see how quickly she had deteriorated in six months. The atmosphere had found her despite his best efforts. It had sniffed out her wooden cradle (though closed and hidden from the world), crawled through the earth, entered her through the nostrils, mouth, ear canal and melted her from the inside out until she was several clothes hangers swinging to and fro in a moth eaten closet of old clothes. Broomstick hair grew wild out of her head and her shoulders were lopsided so she stood like a badly built tree house. Her arms and legs faintly vacillated from side to side. Her hands were still, her calves unmoving, only her ankle and shoulders swayed from side-to-side. It seemed she was shuffling as well. The rigidity of her body, although it could have been fragility brought on by rigor mortis, seemed to tremble slightly, more so as he drew closer. And the closer Elliot got, the more sure he was that it was not the effects of bodily decomposition, but nervousness. She was scared.
It made him smile.
He opened his moth to say, “It’s okay”, but the words fell apart in his throat. He couldn’t say anything to her. Speaking to her was like speaking to a storm. There was nothing to do but watch and wait for it to be over.
Elliot ringed his hands through each other like he was squeezing the dampness from wet rags, wondering how he could make her leave without treating her roughly. He felt there was no other way but to guide her out, to touch her. Yet, he could not bring himself to do it. Her shoulders would be greasy and her body would be bulging with insects and invertebrates which were surely eating away her insides. The image was enough to make him want to vomit. The feeling subsided only when he saw a sparkle emanating from her right side. He bent down and saw a diamond ring on her finger. He smiled again, quickly widening it into an open-mouthed grin.
“You asked to be buried with it,” he said, not so much to her, but to himself as a reminder. He followed the sparkle up her slender arm bone wrapped hastily in sinew and the last vestiges of skin, gray and green like a moldy peach. He allowed himself to breathe out his nose. The smell was horrendous, yet he couldn’t get enough of it. It was her scent. It was very faint, masked almost entirely by the putrid odor of bodily humus, but it was there. An echo of an echo in the Grand Canyon, but it was there. He shook his head, imagining that what he was about to do next would look like to everyone. It would be shocking, but he couldn’t help himself. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the hard, sandpaper surface of her mouth. Her lips were gone, bone had seeped through skin and the nose was a nub protruding from her face, yet he wasn’t disgusted. She did not, could not return the kiss, but he felt a warmth shoot through his own body. Wiping away the oily residue from his mouth, he kneeled down and took her ringed hand. The congregation, already horrified by the kiss, now unhinged their jaws, rubbed their eyes, squeezed their palms against the heads – anything to block the image out or to add some sense of reality to a dream that had somehow snuck into the waking hours.
Nothing could be done.
Elliot rotated the ring on her finger until he found an engraving on its underside: “January 9”. He looked up at her, still smiling (unable to stop, in fact) and said, “That’s today.” It was the first time he had looked in her face for an extended period of time. She was expressionless. Hollow circles embraced kidney bean eyes that did not look but rather reflected the light of the room capturing it upside down with the distant glare of a pair of small camera lens. Yet, when Elliot touched her hand, she cupped it in between her two palms, a soft wet snap as she did so. Some in the congregation moaned painfully when the sound of the snap spread to them. Elliot’s hand in between hers, the palms rubbed back and forth. The ring dragged across his palm. Elliot looked into her eyes and saw his reflection.
“What is it?” he asked and felt the hands rubbing faster and faster, a rough gurgle rising in her throat. The smooth top of the ring feeling warm and comforting at first, but she continued doing it for several minutes. Elliot tried to stop the rubbing with his free hand, but she would not or could not stop. The ring dug into his palm and Elliot groaned. “Stop,” he said. “Stop, please…” She seemed unable to hear him and his voice grew louder and louder and louder. “Stop…stop….” Her eyes did not look at him, her hands did not stop rubbing and Elliot, finally, had enough.
“Anna! Stop!” he yelled and jerked his palm from between her two hands. Simultaneously, there was another wet snap, much louder, and the two hands fell to the floor. Elliot tripped over his feet and fell to his back, crawling backward, his eyes locked upon hers. He rubbed his hands roughly against the floor, leaving a scar of dark colors on the church floor. He gripped the side of a pew and pulled himself to his feet. “Out!” He yelled. “Out!” Each time he yelled, his eyes clouded and moistened until a caul of tears dripped from his eyes and dampened his face. His voice broke and his fingers trembled. He stomped toward her, arm outstretched, not angry but feigning so in order to continue moving with such force. With quick pushes he edged her closer to the door. She was unwilling to move or couldn’t move. It was unclear to him which was which. Yet, when she reached the large doors at the end of the church, he opened one of them and sent her flying over the front steps and onto the ground with a hardy shove. Her body landed with a wet thump and she was motionless. He wiped his hands against the door, ran a sleeve across his face and walked back to the altar, shaking her presence from his body as he did so.
His father and groomsmen watched him incredulously, brows furrowed, hands crossed defensively over their chests. Lillian was crying. Softly, attempting to keep it quiet, but the acoustics of the church picked up her low weeping and carried it up to the very top of the church and rained it down on the congregation.
“What?” he asked, taking her hand and pressing it against his chest. “What is it?” She wouldn’t answer him. He looked to his father and groomsmen and they said nothing. “Lillian, please, what is it?”
“Oh…Elliot…” she said, her words in short staccato breaths.
“What?” Elliot said, nearly yelling. Lillian took her hand from Elliot’s chest, removed her veil and dropped it to the floor.
“You’re still married.”
Angie Price
The Cold Shallow
1
It was the dead of afternoon and Inez languished by the pool. All around her, the heat had stilled the world to a heavy sleep. The palm branches did not wave, the movie star neighbors did not shout or screw on their marble terrace, and from inside the big white mansion the vacuum cleaner could not be heard. Her brown skin sweated and she reveled in the view of her own breasts beaded and tan between her slim arms. The pool was completely blue and transparent, like a substitute sky, and expensive lounges floated like empty clouds on its surface. She poured herself another martini and watched the green olive bob to the surface on its clear plastic skewer.
Inez was pretending to sleep, waiting for the gardener. Since Paul had gotten jealous of the old one she had been left alone for what seemed like an endless succession of languid days. But the waiting had paid off and eventually a tanned and toned successor had materialized from somewhere, presumably out of the endless flow of her husband’s cash and connections. The real stage of her and the new boy’s daytime companionship hadn’t begun but she wasn’t fazed. She had plenty of time. Usually she would have been annoyed by the fact that he hadn’t introduced himself yet, but after Paul’s reaction to the last one she wouldn’t be surprised if her husband had warned his new employee to steer clear of the lady of the house, for his own personal safety. She didn’t completely mind this, it was better if he had a clear picture of where he was in the scheme of things right from the start. It would keep things simple.
She had learned very early that what Paul didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone, even if what he did know would. So it was a good thing he didn’t know anything, Inez thought. She was always a silent woman when it came to men, who didn’t like talk anyways except in bed. There were other ways of communicating that she had learned long ago, and so with very few words she had always managed to get what she wanted, when she wanted it.
A thought which made her smile.
Paul red in the face and stomping, pointing his finger, veins popping. “Chirstinheaven you fucking whore, what is it that you want?!?! a goddamned gardener?!?!” And Inez quietly disrobing, naked and brown and putting on her silk bathing bottoms, sitting in the red satin lined window mirror to tie her bikini top on, looking out the mirror of the underground room into the bottom of the pool. She lost herself there in it’s familiar silence, then returned to the roaring in her ears that was her husband. Turning brown eyes on him and laying blame for the long hours and secretaries and the blatant boredom in his eyes when he touched her, running his hands over her skin like a marble banister or a vase, some finely made but not longer treasured prize. On a raging man who was anything if superior and nonchalant now.
Not that she didn’t miss Luke. Or at least parts of him. Surprisingly it was his eyes that she thought of the most, the devotion she had seen there. Those watery blue eyes had always stood out from the rest of him, as tan and taut as any part of her, but always somehow stringy and emaciated like he hadn’t had enough to eat. But wiry little muscles in those thighs and with such a loving look on his face, and wonderful slickness in his mouth and his tongue. But she had often looked in those eyes, and felt herself sinking in, down into some soft wet space. The suction just slightly cold around her as she dissolved there.
But he was gone now, and she was still here, waiting for some new stimulation. She wasn’t going to waste time on heartbreak, it never got anyone anywhere. Not that she really wanted to be anywhere but here. Here she was sexy and in control, here there was no conversation to keep up with or feign interest in. No greasy casino owners and the lesser copies of her on their arms for her to meet.
Inez had always loved the sun. She had found her place in it and she intended to stay there. That saying was one she had always taken literally, a place in the sun, all day, out back of another very expensive place was all she had ever wanted. And she got it, as she always knew she would. Nothing as small as divorce was going to stop her, so when the lawyers showed up tomorrow, she was tell them. She was sure they would listen to reason.
It was strangely cold for August. Too cold to go in the pool, though she didn’t really go in much anyways. She couldn’t really swim that well. The pool was just something to look at, something shiny and contained and blue. Something to provide contrast with her; for the guests to look at and be blinded by reflections and hence turn back to her. Of course nobody would be looking at it now, it was a terrible mess. Green and yellow algae lined the steps and were just visible in the dark spot at the deep end of the pool. The ladder was starting to look spotty, and there was a strange shadow beneath it. Some other sort of brackish fungus, or mold.
The first thing she’d have done would be to have it cleaned. Luke never liked cleaning the pool, he’d thought of himself more as a gardener than a pool boy. Towards the end it almost seemed as though he thought of himself as neither, that his status as her lover meant he not longer had to do his job. He’d show up every day with his equipment, walk into the backyard set his tools and chemicals down and then sit by her side on the ground, staring up at her until she said something or his desire to speak overwhelmed his silence. Once she even woke up to find him asleep in one of the floating lounge chairs in nothing but his jockey shorts.
What if my husband had come home and found you like that!!!
There was a ripple. Her head suddenly jerked up, her eyes wide her hair flying and her sunglasses falling off one ear and dangling.
A sudden tear in the surface of the water, like a shark swam beneath it. A white jagged cut and then suddenly it was gone.
She got up, she ran. The deck chair lay empty, a blue and white towel lying across it, stiff as a board from so many days in the sun.
2
The new boy still wasn’t speaking to her. She had even come up behind him one day. She had stood there for ten whole minutes, before he had looked at her. Then he had only glanced quickly over his shoulder at her before picking up his tools and moving on into the house.
The chicken shit punk had practically run. Good old Paulie, you could always count on him. Great at scaring lowlifes and servants. Many people asked her what she ever saw in him. Short and slightly bald he was still in good shape and could have been considered handsome; but with the manners of a bull elephant and the taste of an educated gorilla he never managed to pull away from his shortcomings. Paulie was nothing if not possessive and driven. Inez had always smiled mysteriously and vaguely. How do you tell a polite acquaintance’s acid faced wife that they only things you ever saw in your husband was a man smart enough to be rich and dumb enough to be devoted and blind?
Of course Inez herself was never really sensitive enough to discern the difference between devotion and possessiveness. So had mistaken the little gifts he had showered on her during their courtship for tokens of affection rather than expensive dog tags saying ‘Paul wuz here’. She hadn’t really cared if he loved her for sentimental reasons, it just made more sense to marry a man who passionately worshipped you if you wished to rule unrestricted over your own private, opulent kingdom of thick blue carpets and desert sun.
She had learned to tell the difference when he had blackened her eye for talking to a lounge singer. They had been out on a dinner date when he had been called away on business, so she had instructed the driver to take her to a show. It hadn’t mattered particularly which, she really didn’t care much for music. She wanted to be seen that night and if she couldn’t be seen on the arm of her powerful husband, the driver would at least offer some sort of a shield from unwanted admiration. She hadn’t done her hair for nothing, and she would never be stupid enough to have Luke over this late at night when there could be no hope of a pretext for the “odd jobs” he regularly performed for her. So she would content herself with a more distant audience; even if was really somebody else’s.
So when the singer had appeared at her table with a bottle of champagne after his set, she hadn’t been displeased. The driver had stepped out back for a smoke and she had heard a quiet step behind her. Then a pair of glasses had been set on the table, then a metal urn beside her with the green and gold bottle nestled in amongst sparkling ice cubes. The waiter had popped the cork, replaced the sweaty tube in it’s silver home and disappeared. A hand had placed itself on her shoulder and a voice in her ear asking “May I take this seat?”
She had swiveled her head (careful to stretch her long neck gracefully and keep her shoulders stretched down) and looked at him. He was 80% charisma, but still the glamour of the stage was clinging to him still, so she smiled turned back to the table. She gracefully took a sip of bubbling wine, her fingers applying just the slightest pressure to the glass so it seemed to be floating there by some special magic. The singer (she could never remember his name, even though he had a platinum record way back when) had made small talk mostly, smooth enough to never come outright and say it, but making his desire quite apparent nonetheless. She had listened attentively to his ramblings about how he was really ‘in it for the music’ and looked over his shoulder at the white light from the wall fixtures, thinking about the lovely contrast and imagining how they would look upon red seat of the window in her little underground cave. She felt his hand come to rest, fingers first, on her thigh, and made a point of twitching her leg away just enough to keep his motor running. Men didn’t like things that came too easy.
This had gone on for several minutes, and Inez was near to considering a proposition when Paulie had walked in. His hand rested on her shoulder where the singer’s had been a few minutes before, and Inez could feel the skin twitch as though he had left some handprint behind that was now burning her husband’s flesh. “Am I interrupting? Darling, why don’t you introduce me to your new friend?” While he spoke, his hand had slowly tightened on her shoulder until she winched and pushed his hand away. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Inez, my darling, I suggest you get your ass out of that chair and into the car; unless you want me to do it for you. Only if I have to do it, you ass will end up on the floor.”
She had dabbed her lips with the white napkin, pushed her chair back with controlled violence (just short of her husband’s crotch) and stood, throwing her stole around her shoulders. She drained her glass and said “Thank you, sir it was a lovely evening. I enjoyed your performance. My husband seems to have something he must talk to me about, but I’m sure we can all get together sometime. Perhaps we’ll have you over for a barbeque by our new pool? I’ll be sure to have something for you to autograph.” With that she spun on her heel and walked towards the exit, feeling eyes looking up at her from around the white linen tables, from at and behind the bar. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall by the door, and was dismayed to find her cheeks splotchy. Behind her, in the reflection, she could see her husband and the singer talking. She could imagine what he was saying, Paulie was a partial owner of the club, and she doubted that this particular act would be playing here again anytime soon.
There had been hours of screaming once Paulie had come home. She had shut herself in her rooms and was sitting at her vanity table when he returned. Her ears were ringing from the noise and the lights around her mirror had seemed to get brighter and brighter as she removed her make up and took down her hair. Carefully she had removed all the diamonds from her ears and around her neck, leaving the delicates safe in the wood and velvet box with the little lock. Paul’s volume increased every moment of her silence seeming to add fuel to the fire, even as his voice went hoarse. This wasn’t first time she had endured such a barrage, her husband had a talent for angry rants, but this was the first time she was afraid of him. Finally when she rose to change it happened.
He cut her off on her way to the closet. She stood in front of him for a second, looking straight into his eyes. Even then she didn’t know if he had it in him, but looking in his eyes she couldn’t sense or feel anything about him. It was if everything inside him had gone dark, or maybe it was just the inside of her peeking back through the lens of his eyes.
So when she stepped around him and opened the closet door she was only half surprised to hear his voice growl and scream “DON’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME BITCH!” She took her pink satin robe off the hook inside the door and had one arm in the hole when he spun her around by the wrist. For a second he held her like that, her wrist disappearing into his red fingers, her arm raised between them like she was showing off her wedding ring, and then he hit her. Hard enough for her to slump down to the floor, her arm still extended, her wrist still viced in his hand. She didn’t cry out, but on the inside, some tiny bubble had popped. She had never loved her husband, but now there was a crashing sound in her head as a pane of glass slid down between them. When they looked at each other the next morning over the breakfast table they both knew.
When Paul went to work, she had seduced Luke again. She came up behind him and slipped her hands around his waist, under his white polo with the little palm logo on it “Oasis Pools and Services” and ran her hands over him like a sculptor caressing their own statue. He immediately turned in her arms, his blue eyes closed, and kissed her. She bent her back. He leaned into her. He put his hand on her cheek and stroked.
She grabbed his away and placed it on her breast. Even as his thumb moved itself in a small slow circle, he opened his eyes. She turned her head away, placing it on his shoulder but he had already seen. His hands went to her shoulders and she stood completely still keeping her head in it’s place between his neck and collarbone. If she didn’t move maybe the scene could be avoided.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No, Luke. You aren’t. And I’m not leaving him either. I’ve told you, from the very start, that I’m not going to give any of this up. A few bruises don’t change this.”
“The bastard will do it again. He’s dangerous and I won’t let him anywhere near you, not after this.” Luke’s eyes were beginning to get puddly, his lips were paling and his cheeks were blotching.
“I know he’s dangerous. I got sloppy, and it won’t happen again.”
“But, guys like him don’t change! I can’t let you….”
“Bullshit. You don’t let me do stuff. You are not the boss.” She moved her hands over his back, trailing them down to his buttocks.
Luke simply stood. “You could divorce him. I could take pictures; we could take them to court for the judge to see. You could keep the house, you could keep everything.” He paused, then pushed her back by the shoulders and took her chin in his hands. “Inez, I love you. We could finally be together; he wouldn’t be able to stop us anymore. He’d be gone. It would be just us all the time, just you and me. He’d be all gone and we’d be alone. We wouldn’t have to worry about anybody finding us, ever.” His hands were tightening and she could feel that he was getting excited, aroused by the thought. He had never said the words before; they had always been tucked safely beneath the palms, dormant and safe in the dirt. Now he had dug up a squirming mess laid it slimy and muddy on her crystal perfect world.
“How’s that going to work?” She shook her head way and stepped away from him. “I’ve been cheating on him for years. Last night I had dinner with another man, I may not have been fucking him but a whole restaurant full of people saw me with him. A whole restaurant of people saw me fight with Paul, a whole restaurant of people that have heard the rumors and know more about us that Paulie ever will if you can keep your fucking head straight.”
She sat down in a nearby lawn chair, and poured herself a glass from the sweaty pitcher of martinis that the maid had laid out there for her, just like she did every morning at 11am. “All of the other servants know about us Luke. And that means that other people’s servants know too. Right now they’re keeping quiet because once one of us gets caught all the other husbands and wives get suspicious. Our little arrangement isn’t unique, no matter how pleasant it is. So it suits them right now to be mute. But if the secret comes out, or if I try to divorce my husband, why should the rest of the staff bother to keep quiet, especially once lawyers or PI’s start asking questions? I’m an outright bitch most of the time so they aren’t going to risk their skins for me. Or for the guy who cleans the ice queen’s skimmer. They also know that Paul has never hit me before. More than a couple of them think I had it coming. So a few little snapshots of a one time incident certainly isn’t going to be enough in court, not when it comes up against my little indiscretions! I would lose everything! I’d be lucky to get a job as a cocktail waitress in this town after Paul was done with me! We have our fun and I like you around but…I’m not going to leave a good life here to live with you in a shit-hole apartment. Not for a stupid black eye. Not because you say you love me. So the way I see it is, let’s have our fun today and then it would be best if you didn’t come back for a while. Paul is bound to start getting suspicious after today so we need to stay away from each other. Until things calm down. I can think of some excuse to why I had to let you go, we’ll get somebody else for a while, and then I’ll find another excuse to hire you back. You have other jobs you can do to keep going for now. I know how to handle Paul and I’ll get things back to where they were in no time. Then we can go on just like we were. It’ll be like this never ever happened baby.” She stood up and let her pool robe fall open to reveal her body, dusted with gold bronzing powder and wrapped only in a string closed bikini. She poured another martini into a blue tinted glass, plopped in a skewered olive on a red toothpick, took Luke’s hand and wrapped it loosely around the stem. Now it was her caressing his face. Devotion had tied him to her from the start, if she could just soothe him a little, he would be alright, he would see what she was talking about.
Luke kept staring at her, his mouth in a white line and his eyes wide and white and blue. It seemed like his pupils had constricted themselves out of existence and there was nothing left but the watery blue irises wobbling there on either side of his perfect nose. He drank the whole cocktail in one huge gulp, then gave a wet cough and looked down. He twirled the glass in his fingers by the stem for a second then threw it. It smashed against the rock grotto with the entrance to the underground room. He looked her and said “It’s alright Inez. I know that you love me. It’s not safe for us now, so you don’t have to say it. You don’t even have to know it, because I do and soon you will too.” Then he lifted her up and carried her to the grotto door and they descended together. Down in the dark they made love while Inez stared out the window into the turquoise of the pool. Sun pierced through the water but around them there was only red velvet and darkness. It wasn’t until after, when he had left and she turned on the light to find her black suit, that she realized he had cut his foot on the broken glass and left his blood behind him, staining the white stone floor.
3
The fucking lawyers were finally here. Two men in blue suits carrying briefcases, they couldn’t have been more cliché or more reassuring. Too bad she had to hide. She was completely drunk and wearing a thong swimsuit. Not exactly the best costume or attitude for a legal battle. She couldn’t even remember going to bed last night, she must have fallen asleep in the underground cave again. Too many martinis and too much memory. Many nights now she had simply laid on her red velvet seat and in a haze-like sleep stared out into the dark waters of the pool until morning. She hardly bothered with the house; there were no visitors now that Paul’s associates no longer came by. All she really wanted was to be in the sun so there was no point. Being alone in that huge house made her feel thin and faded. She’d just stay here by the pool as long as she wanted to. It wasn’t like there was somewhere else she had to be.
So as they closed the garden gate, casually glancing at the white columns and green palms of the back porch, she grabbed up her drink and a towel and headed back underground. She ducked behind the rock wall that slowly piled up to conceal the entrance to the underground lounge. She peered around the edge, while she reached for the latch. They didn’t seem to be looking too hard. Too busy admiring the house and taking notes. Probably making estimates for the settlement. Her hand waved in the air as she fumbled at the entrance. She needed to make sure she wasn’t seen yet, she was sure there were some clothes she could change into down there and some make up. Just then, her fingertips slipped forward into shadow as the door opened.
“I don’t really think you need to worry. They already think you’re a whore, and they know you’re a drunk.”
Inez could not move. Then the shadow of fingers passed over her wrist and she was pulled into shadow.
4
Beneath the rock wall, Inez sat on the red lounge and looked into the pale face of her lover. Behind her was a glass-contained carefully sterilized world of blue green water. In front of her was a world of white and green tiles, divided in half by a line of shadow. Half in and half out of that light his face hovered over a slice of white throat. His eyes shone blue, untouched by dark pupils. The tile floor shone with shards of glass, and in places, dried blood marred the tile. The floor had never been cleaned since Luke’s last night. The door to the world above revealed a crack of clear sunlight, streaking across the floor and ending in a beam over her heart.
“It’s been a while since our last visit here together. You would expect things to be a little different this time around. Time heals all wounds, that sort of thing. Too bad it’s all bullshit.”
Vivid memories of them together suddenly sprang together in Inez’s thoughts. Luke’s first day at work, the first day she seduced him. He had only been 20 then, a student at the local tech school. He wanted to work on computers, designing video games of all things. She had gradually talked him into taking on more and more hours with the service that had assigned him to her and Paul’s house. It was the only way he could spend time with her and still get his job done, so Paul wouldn’t become suspicious, she told him. In truth she had just liked having him around, tending to her every need, fiddling around with the garden plants, mostly palms and cacti, which actually needed little attention. Not that he had a clue of what to do with them. She never remembered exactly what time of day it was when he arrived then, and she never remembered when he left. He would appear like a ghost and then vanish until the next day. Saturday and Sunday would pass without him, she would loiter outside and then venture out at night to the lights of the strip, glowing with diamonds. Bronzing power dusting her temples and her shoulders. Monday would come around again, and he would be there fiddling in the dirt by the pool while she recovered from the night before.
She never told him she loved him, and he assumed he knew. She never mentioned the word love until their last night together here. How long ago had that been? Long enough for Paul to find somebody else and leave her. She had seen them once at a party thrown by acquaintances, who apparently had been unaware of the split. The girl was tiny, almost five feet tall, with tiny features and pale white skin. She looked like a china doll. She couldn’t have been more than twenty one. She wore a silver gown and carried a tiny black bag. She had black feathers in her hair and seemingly wore no makeup. She drifted wanly along beside Paul, smiling on cue. The rumor at the party was she barely spoke English. Inez sat at the bar and tried to look nonchalant while the couples came by to leave condolences. A few of the husband slipped their office numbers into her palm when they shook hands. After that there were no more invitations, and the long string of days by the pool began.
“I lived here like a ghost after he left. You could have tried to come back to me then. Why did you wait? Did you expect me to call you? Did you expect me to beg? You knew you couldn’t expect me to change. I don’t change. I don’t want to. Why would I change what I worked to so hard to become?”
She stood, blinded as the beam from the door fell across her left eye. “You always were…”
Suddenly the light was blinding. She felt nothing, just a tingling in her fingers. As her robe fell from her shoulders, she looked down.
“This place could never change. Just like you. You never change even after your whole world comes crashing down around you. You just can’t let go. This place is so fucking important to you, you’re willing to give me up to it just so you can hang around here in your bathing suit and drink martini’s alone for eternity. And I’m stuck here with you. Whether you want me here or not. I couldn’t have loved you anymore, trust me I tried. I’ve pulled you along in this relationship from the start and now that I want to leave you alone, I can’t! If you are so determined to have this place, you can have it, but I’m never leaving here again, whether you want me to or not. You can have you precious world, but now I’m part of the bargain.”
Luke heard strings. The blue light filtering down through the pool enveloped his mind, and as his hands moved over her shoulders to rest below her chin he thought of all the nights he had slept in this very room, catching a few hours before dawn after a chilly night keeping watch outside on the rocks of the waterfall. Keeping watch through the lighted windows as she removed her makeup and jewels, disappeared into the bathroom, and then lay down alone in her room. He watched her husband pacing in his bedroom, trying the locked door between them, watching the blue lit screen of the flat panel television.
When it was over, he laid her down on the red velvet below the window. Carefully he placed her on her back, one arm behind her head so her neck wouldn’t get sore. Her head turned toward the side so she could look out into the pool. Then closed the door to the outside and waited there with her until nightfall. He emerged then and wandered around the poolside, uprooting rose buses and collecting her various toiletries, her glass martini pitcher (he made sure the pitcher was full before he left.) He arranged his gifts around her, the pitcher and glasses near to her dangling right hand. The roses he trimmed of thorns and set at the foot of the bier.
Then he climbed the stairs. He turned to take one last look at the house. With no light coming from within, it looked like a tomb, and frightened he looked away. Catching one last look at the stars, he walked to the steps that lead down in the shallow end of the pool. The water was no longer sky blue, but opaque and black. As the water hit his ankles, he stopped, hearing a sudden slicing of water. Trembling he looked back up at the sky, but no doubt could enter him and he submerged himself in the chilly liquid. With strong strokes he pulled himself to the deep end, and lay in a dead man’s float beneath the diving board. She would be right beneath him now. And even though he couldn’t see her through the inky, chlorinated waters, he suspected that he could see no less than she.
When morning found them, the sun’s rays sought out the still murky, slightly molded bottom. Luke cast a shadow as his head bumped dully against the Spanish themed tile on the side. Beneath him the light reflected from the window, obscuring the view within. But in one small place a pair of black eyes could be seen as they looked upward toward the quavering yellow disk.
A week later, when the realtor and her unfortunate clients discovered the now swollen and sun decayed body floating in the pool, it was drained. The house was sold to a young casino owner and his lover. Inez was not discovered (lying elegantly intact on her velvet chair) until the new pool boy walked down the slow incline to clean the last of the mold from the nooks of the waterfall. Later, she was removed, burned and secreted away into a small cemetery, one of many embellished boxes reserved for her since her marriage. But the young man could swear at his first glance, the woman behind the glass stirred towards him, smiling a cool smile.
1
It was the dead of afternoon and Inez languished by the pool. All around her, the heat had stilled the world to a heavy sleep. The palm branches did not wave, the movie star neighbors did not shout or screw on their marble terrace, and from inside the big white mansion the vacuum cleaner could not be heard. Her brown skin sweated and she reveled in the view of her own breasts beaded and tan between her slim arms. The pool was completely blue and transparent, like a substitute sky, and expensive lounges floated like empty clouds on its surface. She poured herself another martini and watched the green olive bob to the surface on its clear plastic skewer.
Inez was pretending to sleep, waiting for the gardener. Since Paul had gotten jealous of the old one she had been left alone for what seemed like an endless succession of languid days. But the waiting had paid off and eventually a tanned and toned successor had materialized from somewhere, presumably out of the endless flow of her husband’s cash and connections. The real stage of her and the new boy’s daytime companionship hadn’t begun but she wasn’t fazed. She had plenty of time. Usually she would have been annoyed by the fact that he hadn’t introduced himself yet, but after Paul’s reaction to the last one she wouldn’t be surprised if her husband had warned his new employee to steer clear of the lady of the house, for his own personal safety. She didn’t completely mind this, it was better if he had a clear picture of where he was in the scheme of things right from the start. It would keep things simple.
She had learned very early that what Paul didn’t know wouldn’t hurt anyone, even if what he did know would. So it was a good thing he didn’t know anything, Inez thought. She was always a silent woman when it came to men, who didn’t like talk anyways except in bed. There were other ways of communicating that she had learned long ago, and so with very few words she had always managed to get what she wanted, when she wanted it.
A thought which made her smile.
Paul red in the face and stomping, pointing his finger, veins popping. “Chirstinheaven you fucking whore, what is it that you want?!?! a goddamned gardener?!?!” And Inez quietly disrobing, naked and brown and putting on her silk bathing bottoms, sitting in the red satin lined window mirror to tie her bikini top on, looking out the mirror of the underground room into the bottom of the pool. She lost herself there in it’s familiar silence, then returned to the roaring in her ears that was her husband. Turning brown eyes on him and laying blame for the long hours and secretaries and the blatant boredom in his eyes when he touched her, running his hands over her skin like a marble banister or a vase, some finely made but not longer treasured prize. On a raging man who was anything if superior and nonchalant now.
Not that she didn’t miss Luke. Or at least parts of him. Surprisingly it was his eyes that she thought of the most, the devotion she had seen there. Those watery blue eyes had always stood out from the rest of him, as tan and taut as any part of her, but always somehow stringy and emaciated like he hadn’t had enough to eat. But wiry little muscles in those thighs and with such a loving look on his face, and wonderful slickness in his mouth and his tongue. But she had often looked in those eyes, and felt herself sinking in, down into some soft wet space. The suction just slightly cold around her as she dissolved there.
But he was gone now, and she was still here, waiting for some new stimulation. She wasn’t going to waste time on heartbreak, it never got anyone anywhere. Not that she really wanted to be anywhere but here. Here she was sexy and in control, here there was no conversation to keep up with or feign interest in. No greasy casino owners and the lesser copies of her on their arms for her to meet.
Inez had always loved the sun. She had found her place in it and she intended to stay there. That saying was one she had always taken literally, a place in the sun, all day, out back of another very expensive place was all she had ever wanted. And she got it, as she always knew she would. Nothing as small as divorce was going to stop her, so when the lawyers showed up tomorrow, she was tell them. She was sure they would listen to reason.
It was strangely cold for August. Too cold to go in the pool, though she didn’t really go in much anyways. She couldn’t really swim that well. The pool was just something to look at, something shiny and contained and blue. Something to provide contrast with her; for the guests to look at and be blinded by reflections and hence turn back to her. Of course nobody would be looking at it now, it was a terrible mess. Green and yellow algae lined the steps and were just visible in the dark spot at the deep end of the pool. The ladder was starting to look spotty, and there was a strange shadow beneath it. Some other sort of brackish fungus, or mold.
The first thing she’d have done would be to have it cleaned. Luke never liked cleaning the pool, he’d thought of himself more as a gardener than a pool boy. Towards the end it almost seemed as though he thought of himself as neither, that his status as her lover meant he not longer had to do his job. He’d show up every day with his equipment, walk into the backyard set his tools and chemicals down and then sit by her side on the ground, staring up at her until she said something or his desire to speak overwhelmed his silence. Once she even woke up to find him asleep in one of the floating lounge chairs in nothing but his jockey shorts.
What if my husband had come home and found you like that!!!
There was a ripple. Her head suddenly jerked up, her eyes wide her hair flying and her sunglasses falling off one ear and dangling.
A sudden tear in the surface of the water, like a shark swam beneath it. A white jagged cut and then suddenly it was gone.
She got up, she ran. The deck chair lay empty, a blue and white towel lying across it, stiff as a board from so many days in the sun.
2
The new boy still wasn’t speaking to her. She had even come up behind him one day. She had stood there for ten whole minutes, before he had looked at her. Then he had only glanced quickly over his shoulder at her before picking up his tools and moving on into the house.
The chicken shit punk had practically run. Good old Paulie, you could always count on him. Great at scaring lowlifes and servants. Many people asked her what she ever saw in him. Short and slightly bald he was still in good shape and could have been considered handsome; but with the manners of a bull elephant and the taste of an educated gorilla he never managed to pull away from his shortcomings. Paulie was nothing if not possessive and driven. Inez had always smiled mysteriously and vaguely. How do you tell a polite acquaintance’s acid faced wife that they only things you ever saw in your husband was a man smart enough to be rich and dumb enough to be devoted and blind?
Of course Inez herself was never really sensitive enough to discern the difference between devotion and possessiveness. So had mistaken the little gifts he had showered on her during their courtship for tokens of affection rather than expensive dog tags saying ‘Paul wuz here’. She hadn’t really cared if he loved her for sentimental reasons, it just made more sense to marry a man who passionately worshipped you if you wished to rule unrestricted over your own private, opulent kingdom of thick blue carpets and desert sun.
She had learned to tell the difference when he had blackened her eye for talking to a lounge singer. They had been out on a dinner date when he had been called away on business, so she had instructed the driver to take her to a show. It hadn’t mattered particularly which, she really didn’t care much for music. She wanted to be seen that night and if she couldn’t be seen on the arm of her powerful husband, the driver would at least offer some sort of a shield from unwanted admiration. She hadn’t done her hair for nothing, and she would never be stupid enough to have Luke over this late at night when there could be no hope of a pretext for the “odd jobs” he regularly performed for her. So she would content herself with a more distant audience; even if was really somebody else’s.
So when the singer had appeared at her table with a bottle of champagne after his set, she hadn’t been displeased. The driver had stepped out back for a smoke and she had heard a quiet step behind her. Then a pair of glasses had been set on the table, then a metal urn beside her with the green and gold bottle nestled in amongst sparkling ice cubes. The waiter had popped the cork, replaced the sweaty tube in it’s silver home and disappeared. A hand had placed itself on her shoulder and a voice in her ear asking “May I take this seat?”
She had swiveled her head (careful to stretch her long neck gracefully and keep her shoulders stretched down) and looked at him. He was 80% charisma, but still the glamour of the stage was clinging to him still, so she smiled turned back to the table. She gracefully took a sip of bubbling wine, her fingers applying just the slightest pressure to the glass so it seemed to be floating there by some special magic. The singer (she could never remember his name, even though he had a platinum record way back when) had made small talk mostly, smooth enough to never come outright and say it, but making his desire quite apparent nonetheless. She had listened attentively to his ramblings about how he was really ‘in it for the music’ and looked over his shoulder at the white light from the wall fixtures, thinking about the lovely contrast and imagining how they would look upon red seat of the window in her little underground cave. She felt his hand come to rest, fingers first, on her thigh, and made a point of twitching her leg away just enough to keep his motor running. Men didn’t like things that came too easy.
This had gone on for several minutes, and Inez was near to considering a proposition when Paulie had walked in. His hand rested on her shoulder where the singer’s had been a few minutes before, and Inez could feel the skin twitch as though he had left some handprint behind that was now burning her husband’s flesh. “Am I interrupting? Darling, why don’t you introduce me to your new friend?” While he spoke, his hand had slowly tightened on her shoulder until she winched and pushed his hand away. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Inez, my darling, I suggest you get your ass out of that chair and into the car; unless you want me to do it for you. Only if I have to do it, you ass will end up on the floor.”
She had dabbed her lips with the white napkin, pushed her chair back with controlled violence (just short of her husband’s crotch) and stood, throwing her stole around her shoulders. She drained her glass and said “Thank you, sir it was a lovely evening. I enjoyed your performance. My husband seems to have something he must talk to me about, but I’m sure we can all get together sometime. Perhaps we’ll have you over for a barbeque by our new pool? I’ll be sure to have something for you to autograph.” With that she spun on her heel and walked towards the exit, feeling eyes looking up at her from around the white linen tables, from at and behind the bar. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall by the door, and was dismayed to find her cheeks splotchy. Behind her, in the reflection, she could see her husband and the singer talking. She could imagine what he was saying, Paulie was a partial owner of the club, and she doubted that this particular act would be playing here again anytime soon.
There had been hours of screaming once Paulie had come home. She had shut herself in her rooms and was sitting at her vanity table when he returned. Her ears were ringing from the noise and the lights around her mirror had seemed to get brighter and brighter as she removed her make up and took down her hair. Carefully she had removed all the diamonds from her ears and around her neck, leaving the delicates safe in the wood and velvet box with the little lock. Paul’s volume increased every moment of her silence seeming to add fuel to the fire, even as his voice went hoarse. This wasn’t first time she had endured such a barrage, her husband had a talent for angry rants, but this was the first time she was afraid of him. Finally when she rose to change it happened.
He cut her off on her way to the closet. She stood in front of him for a second, looking straight into his eyes. Even then she didn’t know if he had it in him, but looking in his eyes she couldn’t sense or feel anything about him. It was if everything inside him had gone dark, or maybe it was just the inside of her peeking back through the lens of his eyes.
So when she stepped around him and opened the closet door she was only half surprised to hear his voice growl and scream “DON’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME BITCH!” She took her pink satin robe off the hook inside the door and had one arm in the hole when he spun her around by the wrist. For a second he held her like that, her wrist disappearing into his red fingers, her arm raised between them like she was showing off her wedding ring, and then he hit her. Hard enough for her to slump down to the floor, her arm still extended, her wrist still viced in his hand. She didn’t cry out, but on the inside, some tiny bubble had popped. She had never loved her husband, but now there was a crashing sound in her head as a pane of glass slid down between them. When they looked at each other the next morning over the breakfast table they both knew.
When Paul went to work, she had seduced Luke again. She came up behind him and slipped her hands around his waist, under his white polo with the little palm logo on it “Oasis Pools and Services” and ran her hands over him like a sculptor caressing their own statue. He immediately turned in her arms, his blue eyes closed, and kissed her. She bent her back. He leaned into her. He put his hand on her cheek and stroked.
She grabbed his away and placed it on her breast. Even as his thumb moved itself in a small slow circle, he opened his eyes. She turned her head away, placing it on his shoulder but he had already seen. His hands went to her shoulders and she stood completely still keeping her head in it’s place between his neck and collarbone. If she didn’t move maybe the scene could be avoided.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No, Luke. You aren’t. And I’m not leaving him either. I’ve told you, from the very start, that I’m not going to give any of this up. A few bruises don’t change this.”
“The bastard will do it again. He’s dangerous and I won’t let him anywhere near you, not after this.” Luke’s eyes were beginning to get puddly, his lips were paling and his cheeks were blotching.
“I know he’s dangerous. I got sloppy, and it won’t happen again.”
“But, guys like him don’t change! I can’t let you….”
“Bullshit. You don’t let me do stuff. You are not the boss.” She moved her hands over his back, trailing them down to his buttocks.
Luke simply stood. “You could divorce him. I could take pictures; we could take them to court for the judge to see. You could keep the house, you could keep everything.” He paused, then pushed her back by the shoulders and took her chin in his hands. “Inez, I love you. We could finally be together; he wouldn’t be able to stop us anymore. He’d be gone. It would be just us all the time, just you and me. He’d be all gone and we’d be alone. We wouldn’t have to worry about anybody finding us, ever.” His hands were tightening and she could feel that he was getting excited, aroused by the thought. He had never said the words before; they had always been tucked safely beneath the palms, dormant and safe in the dirt. Now he had dug up a squirming mess laid it slimy and muddy on her crystal perfect world.
“How’s that going to work?” She shook her head way and stepped away from him. “I’ve been cheating on him for years. Last night I had dinner with another man, I may not have been fucking him but a whole restaurant full of people saw me with him. A whole restaurant of people saw me fight with Paul, a whole restaurant of people that have heard the rumors and know more about us that Paulie ever will if you can keep your fucking head straight.”
She sat down in a nearby lawn chair, and poured herself a glass from the sweaty pitcher of martinis that the maid had laid out there for her, just like she did every morning at 11am. “All of the other servants know about us Luke. And that means that other people’s servants know too. Right now they’re keeping quiet because once one of us gets caught all the other husbands and wives get suspicious. Our little arrangement isn’t unique, no matter how pleasant it is. So it suits them right now to be mute. But if the secret comes out, or if I try to divorce my husband, why should the rest of the staff bother to keep quiet, especially once lawyers or PI’s start asking questions? I’m an outright bitch most of the time so they aren’t going to risk their skins for me. Or for the guy who cleans the ice queen’s skimmer. They also know that Paul has never hit me before. More than a couple of them think I had it coming. So a few little snapshots of a one time incident certainly isn’t going to be enough in court, not when it comes up against my little indiscretions! I would lose everything! I’d be lucky to get a job as a cocktail waitress in this town after Paul was done with me! We have our fun and I like you around but…I’m not going to leave a good life here to live with you in a shit-hole apartment. Not for a stupid black eye. Not because you say you love me. So the way I see it is, let’s have our fun today and then it would be best if you didn’t come back for a while. Paul is bound to start getting suspicious after today so we need to stay away from each other. Until things calm down. I can think of some excuse to why I had to let you go, we’ll get somebody else for a while, and then I’ll find another excuse to hire you back. You have other jobs you can do to keep going for now. I know how to handle Paul and I’ll get things back to where they were in no time. Then we can go on just like we were. It’ll be like this never ever happened baby.” She stood up and let her pool robe fall open to reveal her body, dusted with gold bronzing powder and wrapped only in a string closed bikini. She poured another martini into a blue tinted glass, plopped in a skewered olive on a red toothpick, took Luke’s hand and wrapped it loosely around the stem. Now it was her caressing his face. Devotion had tied him to her from the start, if she could just soothe him a little, he would be alright, he would see what she was talking about.
Luke kept staring at her, his mouth in a white line and his eyes wide and white and blue. It seemed like his pupils had constricted themselves out of existence and there was nothing left but the watery blue irises wobbling there on either side of his perfect nose. He drank the whole cocktail in one huge gulp, then gave a wet cough and looked down. He twirled the glass in his fingers by the stem for a second then threw it. It smashed against the rock grotto with the entrance to the underground room. He looked her and said “It’s alright Inez. I know that you love me. It’s not safe for us now, so you don’t have to say it. You don’t even have to know it, because I do and soon you will too.” Then he lifted her up and carried her to the grotto door and they descended together. Down in the dark they made love while Inez stared out the window into the turquoise of the pool. Sun pierced through the water but around them there was only red velvet and darkness. It wasn’t until after, when he had left and she turned on the light to find her black suit, that she realized he had cut his foot on the broken glass and left his blood behind him, staining the white stone floor.
3
The fucking lawyers were finally here. Two men in blue suits carrying briefcases, they couldn’t have been more cliché or more reassuring. Too bad she had to hide. She was completely drunk and wearing a thong swimsuit. Not exactly the best costume or attitude for a legal battle. She couldn’t even remember going to bed last night, she must have fallen asleep in the underground cave again. Too many martinis and too much memory. Many nights now she had simply laid on her red velvet seat and in a haze-like sleep stared out into the dark waters of the pool until morning. She hardly bothered with the house; there were no visitors now that Paul’s associates no longer came by. All she really wanted was to be in the sun so there was no point. Being alone in that huge house made her feel thin and faded. She’d just stay here by the pool as long as she wanted to. It wasn’t like there was somewhere else she had to be.
So as they closed the garden gate, casually glancing at the white columns and green palms of the back porch, she grabbed up her drink and a towel and headed back underground. She ducked behind the rock wall that slowly piled up to conceal the entrance to the underground lounge. She peered around the edge, while she reached for the latch. They didn’t seem to be looking too hard. Too busy admiring the house and taking notes. Probably making estimates for the settlement. Her hand waved in the air as she fumbled at the entrance. She needed to make sure she wasn’t seen yet, she was sure there were some clothes she could change into down there and some make up. Just then, her fingertips slipped forward into shadow as the door opened.
“I don’t really think you need to worry. They already think you’re a whore, and they know you’re a drunk.”
Inez could not move. Then the shadow of fingers passed over her wrist and she was pulled into shadow.
4
Beneath the rock wall, Inez sat on the red lounge and looked into the pale face of her lover. Behind her was a glass-contained carefully sterilized world of blue green water. In front of her was a world of white and green tiles, divided in half by a line of shadow. Half in and half out of that light his face hovered over a slice of white throat. His eyes shone blue, untouched by dark pupils. The tile floor shone with shards of glass, and in places, dried blood marred the tile. The floor had never been cleaned since Luke’s last night. The door to the world above revealed a crack of clear sunlight, streaking across the floor and ending in a beam over her heart.
“It’s been a while since our last visit here together. You would expect things to be a little different this time around. Time heals all wounds, that sort of thing. Too bad it’s all bullshit.”
Vivid memories of them together suddenly sprang together in Inez’s thoughts. Luke’s first day at work, the first day she seduced him. He had only been 20 then, a student at the local tech school. He wanted to work on computers, designing video games of all things. She had gradually talked him into taking on more and more hours with the service that had assigned him to her and Paul’s house. It was the only way he could spend time with her and still get his job done, so Paul wouldn’t become suspicious, she told him. In truth she had just liked having him around, tending to her every need, fiddling around with the garden plants, mostly palms and cacti, which actually needed little attention. Not that he had a clue of what to do with them. She never remembered exactly what time of day it was when he arrived then, and she never remembered when he left. He would appear like a ghost and then vanish until the next day. Saturday and Sunday would pass without him, she would loiter outside and then venture out at night to the lights of the strip, glowing with diamonds. Bronzing power dusting her temples and her shoulders. Monday would come around again, and he would be there fiddling in the dirt by the pool while she recovered from the night before.
She never told him she loved him, and he assumed he knew. She never mentioned the word love until their last night together here. How long ago had that been? Long enough for Paul to find somebody else and leave her. She had seen them once at a party thrown by acquaintances, who apparently had been unaware of the split. The girl was tiny, almost five feet tall, with tiny features and pale white skin. She looked like a china doll. She couldn’t have been more than twenty one. She wore a silver gown and carried a tiny black bag. She had black feathers in her hair and seemingly wore no makeup. She drifted wanly along beside Paul, smiling on cue. The rumor at the party was she barely spoke English. Inez sat at the bar and tried to look nonchalant while the couples came by to leave condolences. A few of the husband slipped their office numbers into her palm when they shook hands. After that there were no more invitations, and the long string of days by the pool began.
“I lived here like a ghost after he left. You could have tried to come back to me then. Why did you wait? Did you expect me to call you? Did you expect me to beg? You knew you couldn’t expect me to change. I don’t change. I don’t want to. Why would I change what I worked to so hard to become?”
She stood, blinded as the beam from the door fell across her left eye. “You always were…”
Suddenly the light was blinding. She felt nothing, just a tingling in her fingers. As her robe fell from her shoulders, she looked down.
“This place could never change. Just like you. You never change even after your whole world comes crashing down around you. You just can’t let go. This place is so fucking important to you, you’re willing to give me up to it just so you can hang around here in your bathing suit and drink martini’s alone for eternity. And I’m stuck here with you. Whether you want me here or not. I couldn’t have loved you anymore, trust me I tried. I’ve pulled you along in this relationship from the start and now that I want to leave you alone, I can’t! If you are so determined to have this place, you can have it, but I’m never leaving here again, whether you want me to or not. You can have you precious world, but now I’m part of the bargain.”
Luke heard strings. The blue light filtering down through the pool enveloped his mind, and as his hands moved over her shoulders to rest below her chin he thought of all the nights he had slept in this very room, catching a few hours before dawn after a chilly night keeping watch outside on the rocks of the waterfall. Keeping watch through the lighted windows as she removed her makeup and jewels, disappeared into the bathroom, and then lay down alone in her room. He watched her husband pacing in his bedroom, trying the locked door between them, watching the blue lit screen of the flat panel television.
When it was over, he laid her down on the red velvet below the window. Carefully he placed her on her back, one arm behind her head so her neck wouldn’t get sore. Her head turned toward the side so she could look out into the pool. Then closed the door to the outside and waited there with her until nightfall. He emerged then and wandered around the poolside, uprooting rose buses and collecting her various toiletries, her glass martini pitcher (he made sure the pitcher was full before he left.) He arranged his gifts around her, the pitcher and glasses near to her dangling right hand. The roses he trimmed of thorns and set at the foot of the bier.
Then he climbed the stairs. He turned to take one last look at the house. With no light coming from within, it looked like a tomb, and frightened he looked away. Catching one last look at the stars, he walked to the steps that lead down in the shallow end of the pool. The water was no longer sky blue, but opaque and black. As the water hit his ankles, he stopped, hearing a sudden slicing of water. Trembling he looked back up at the sky, but no doubt could enter him and he submerged himself in the chilly liquid. With strong strokes he pulled himself to the deep end, and lay in a dead man’s float beneath the diving board. She would be right beneath him now. And even though he couldn’t see her through the inky, chlorinated waters, he suspected that he could see no less than she.
When morning found them, the sun’s rays sought out the still murky, slightly molded bottom. Luke cast a shadow as his head bumped dully against the Spanish themed tile on the side. Beneath him the light reflected from the window, obscuring the view within. But in one small place a pair of black eyes could be seen as they looked upward toward the quavering yellow disk.
A week later, when the realtor and her unfortunate clients discovered the now swollen and sun decayed body floating in the pool, it was drained. The house was sold to a young casino owner and his lover. Inez was not discovered (lying elegantly intact on her velvet chair) until the new pool boy walked down the slow incline to clean the last of the mold from the nooks of the waterfall. Later, she was removed, burned and secreted away into a small cemetery, one of many embellished boxes reserved for her since her marriage. But the young man could swear at his first glance, the woman behind the glass stirred towards him, smiling a cool smile.
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