writing – Page 50 – three good words

October 18, 2014May 16, 2020

in the field

It was typical rain-season weather where all the back roads were swamps of mud and you were lucky to reach the lodge without being marooned half way. Getting stuck in turn usually ended in pushing the jeep and landing face-down in the mud. The sky was a heavy grey, clouds hanging so low Alexis felt she could touch them. There was that metallic taste of a storm brewing in the air, thickly humid as it was, making any type of material stick annoyingly to her skin. And for some reason all the mosquitoes of the islands had decided to congregate around every living, breathing mammal and probably the dead one’s as well, God she hated them. Mosquitoes really were one unnecessary genetic mutation.

Alexis parked her jeep with a sigh of relief, jumped out, gathered her gear and made her way back to the lodge. The first gust of pre-storm wind swept around her, ruffling her frizzled hair, damp and haphazard, half eating the clip she tried to tame it with. She felt sticky from head to toe and could only think of the shower waiting for her upstairs. All she needed was her key and then, hallelujah, she would scrub down, wrap herself up in the hotel’s heavenly bathrobe and then spread out on her bed with the thunderstorm crashing on outside.

The first thing Alexis noticed when entering the lobby was the musty, wet-clothes smell that hung like heavy draperies in the air. It would be ok after the storm, but right then it just irritated her more. Shouldering her backpack and waterproofed gadgets she trudged to the counter where someone tall and broad was arguing loudly with one of the concierges. She noticed the accent first, it spoke of rich green hills and real music in real pubs with real beer, the kind you never got on this side of the planet unless you went looking. Alexis clattered next to him, she couldn’t help it, her gear was heavy this late in the day. Claire, the young clerk, greeted Alexis with a ‘Hello, Dr Jordan!’ that was way too happy. Alexis still said,

‘Hi, Claire, Any mail?’
‘No, Dr Jordan, but with the weather like this, the plane’s bound to be late,’ the young woman smiled cheerily.

Just as well. She needed a few hours of rest anyway.

‘Could you send up something to eat, you know, not too heavy, and some very, very cold water?’
‘Of course, Dr. Jordan. Is there anything else we can do for you?’
‘Find me some decent sleep,’ Alexis sighed, but Claire frowned prettily. ‘No, I’m fine. I’d just take my keys then, thanks.’
‘You’re welcome, Dr. Jordan – ’ Claire started, but was interrupted by her colleague Ray who was still being harangued by the new arrival.

Alexis checked the vitals. Hiking boots, combat pants with all the pockets – good for outdoor work – dark blue t-shirt, a huge backpack, well-used, and a laptop safely packed in a waterproof case which meant serious field work. Alexis wasn’t really aware how blatantly she was staring until she saw he was looking straight back at her. Alexis blushed and looked away, really, she kept on forgetting how to act when around people. And what about her keys? Claire was still talking with her colleague, and both were looking at Alexis every now and then, until it started to get a little worrying. Finally the young woman turned back to Alexis, looking apprehensive.

‘Ahm… Dr. Jordan?’
‘Yes?’
‘May I talk to you for a second? In private?’

Claire didn’t look like she was about to kick her out of the lodge so Alexis walked to where Claire pointed, the wide French windows leading out to the patio. The first few drops splattered against the panes. Soon the storm would hit and the humidity and mosquitoes would be swept away, yeah.

‘Is something wrong?’ Alexis asked when Claire joined her.
‘No, no, nothing’s wrong. That is, nothing with you Dr. Jordan, of course not, but we are in a kind of a – predicament.’
‘What kind?’
‘It seems we’re overbooked.’
‘Oh, ok – ’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ Claire said, looking pained. ‘Mr. Russell’s room is already taken, but he did book it, so he in fact has every right to complain.’
‘Yeah, but, what’s that got to do with –’

Wait a minute. Oh, no, please no –

‘I just found out that you and Mr. Russell are in fact working in the same field – ?’ Claire asked brightly.
‘Do we now?’ Alexis asked dryly.

Why, why, why did this always happen to her? She just wanted a shower, some food, maybe a drink and then sleep, sleep, sleep. Why were the gods so against that, it was such a simple wish?

‘Well, Mr Russel is also working on a project, just like you, and we thought it might not be too awkward if you would be together, since you’d at least have something to talk about,’ Claire explained quickly. ‘It would only be for a night, the Martinez’ will be leaving tomorrow morning – ’
‘But – ’
‘Please?’ Claire asked, her wide eyes imploring. ‘You are one of our most trusted guests, and we – well, we know you, Dr. Jordan. It would only be for one night, and we would of course set up an extra bed in the second room, so… please?’
‘Yes, but Claire – ’
‘If Mr. Kelly finds out, Ray and I’ll be in a bit of a fix,’ Claire added, and Alexis sighed.

How was she to say no now? Mr. Kelly was known to be a bit… strict. Alexis knew Claire and Ray for the five years she’d been coming here to do her research, and it was true that she was known to the lodge as any other seasonal guest, maybe even more so because she always stayed for at least a month each year. And there was enough space in her suite, that was true too, she always booked one just to be able to set up the equipment she needed. During her four weeks on the islands, her suite was the base of the operation, the messy, cable-infested HQ. If they set up the bed where the couch was, they’d be out of each other’s hair. Still, there was a difference between admiring someone from a safe distance and having him around you for a night and day, seeing all your quirks and bad habits. Still, spending a night in the same room with tall, dark and handsome was a small price from keeping Jay and Claire from Mr. Kelly’s wrath.

‘If he promises not to snore, I’m fine,’ Alexis finally said and Claire beamed.
‘Thank you so much!’ she exclaimed, even hugging Alexis’ tightly.
‘Yes, yes, ok, just make sure you don’t forget my dinner,’ Alexis said grumpily.

Claire let her go again, nodding enthusiastically, piped another ‘Thank you!’ and rushed back to the reception. She could see the relief on Ray’s face when Claire gave him a thumbs up. Alexis watched how both communicated everything to Mr. Russell, who turned to Alexis and nodded as if saying Thank you. Alexis just pointed to the elevators, showing she had the key and started walking. She was really in need for a shower and felt even stickier and more frizzled than ever. She didn’t bother to look if he joined, but since the elevators took an century to arrive, Mr. Russell did manage to join her in time, backpack and laptop included.

October 12, 2014May 17, 2020

chance encounter

Dana has stopped fearing the dark. That woman isn’t about to come tearing into the diner to knife her down. It’s been a while since their last night. Six weeks at least, if not more. Dana forced herself to stop counting. She only managed because she’s seeing someone now. His name is Sean, he works in an office and has a nice apartment not far away from the diner. He’s not bad looking, a bit taller than herself with short dark hair that he takes good care of, and he has very nice, clear blue eyes.

They met at a party Samantha took her to, and he asked her out for a drink after they chatted for a while in a corner of the living room. Dana went because Christie forced her to, and Sean made her laugh more than expected which calmed her down. He was very sweet, asked her to the movies and went out for a nice Italian dinner with her. She waited till the fourth date before she agreed to go to his place for a drink. There they talked for over an hour, drinking Screwdrivers with expensive vodka. Sean kissed her when she came back from using the bathroom. She had learnt that a bathroom said almost everything you needed to know about a guy. Sean’s bathroom was tidy without being freakish, which was a relief.

She came back and sat down, Sean leaned into her and said ‘You’re very beautiful.’ That’s when he kissed her. She enjoyed it and didn’t mind when he stole his hands under her top. Soon enough he grew hasty, but she asked him to slow down, which he did. He smiled sheepishly and took his time. It was nice, she enjoyed it, but she didn’t stay the night. She told him she had some stuff to do the next day, something with Christie. Sean nodded and smiled a that’s-ok smile. He walked her to his door and kissed her again, he was a really good kisser. Then she went home. That was three weeks ago, and they kept on seeing each other about three times a week. It was nice. Dana felt cared for, and she liked that.

The Prince has decided to leave his Kingdom and pay a visit to a dilapidated monk who lies wasted in the arms of an Angel. In His arms a body feels fragile and frail, the movements too quick, the suddenness too hard, yet His smile brings life back again. Questions are asked which are answered accordingly, he doesn’t want her, the sister, the mother, the soul that allowed him to conceive a possibility of rest, he doesn’t want her to feel she has failed. The Prince stays for an evening, eating and drinking, laughing and talking and then in a moment he remembers that last week was the Seventh which explains the sadness in His Highness’ limbs, the weight holding down the light in His royal eyes. He refrains from asking about Her, whom the Prince will never mention, will never acknowledge with a syllable or a sound, only to feel weak with curiosity, buried underneath questions, for they had been marvelous once, but that was in another life, another world, so perfect and terrible it was close to a fairy tale.

While clearing the debris of the evening he cautiously points to the fact of the Seventh looming dark in the past. She smiles sadly and nods saying that it was to be expected. He still loves Her, she says and her eyes say it is a deep love, like those sung in stories, and her body says the Prince is not alone in His misery, but he turns away before he reads the last sentence written on her skin, feeling the tatters of his monk’s habit flail. Even now in her presence it is too much for him, too much to see her honesty, too much to feel the presence of the past between them. For despite all attempts to the contrary, certain words have not yet been said.

On her knees she holds him firmly, gently, tightly, covering him with heat and softness, sucking him in till there’s just blackness and rain turning the ceiling to sleet. In intervals she releases and descends, withholding and repenting, increasing in boldness and subtlety, an ingenious trick that makes his thoughts drop dead and his brain suffer a heart attack. On the plains, outstretched, he is only reaction, a body burnt by the sun, melted to a carnal cry, dark and dissolving in the fading light. When he is alive again she lies next to him, smiling against his skin, kissing away the remnants of his sanity, subjecting him to the loss of will and power, leaving him without direction, a lobster, cooked and roasted, without a shell.

Dana is in the Mall with Sean. It’s Samantha’s birthday soon, and since Sean knows her now, they decided to pick a present together. Neither have a clue what to give her, Sam always has the newest gadgets, and she loves glittery things. Dean takes Dana’s hand and smiles when she smiles at him. They walk on to the next shop but find nothing there and take the escalator to the next floor. It should be something playful, something that makes Samantha laugh. They’re walking past a electronics store when someone walks out and almost into them. He apologizes immediately – ‘Amanda!’

He looks genuinely happy to see her. Dana wants the ground to break open and swallow her whole. She finally remembers Sean and says,

‘Hi. Sean, this is Carmine. Carmine, Sean.’

Both nod at each other. Dana can barely make herself look at Sean.

‘How you been?’ Carmine says. Dana blushes bright red.
‘I’m good. We’re looking for a birthday present for my friend Samantha.’
‘The blonde one?’

The fact that he remembers makes Dana blush even more.

‘Yeah. It’s her birthday this weekend.’
‘Sweet,’ is all he says before looking at Sean and smiling an easy, open, How’s-it-going smile.
‘Well, don’t let me keep you,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you round.’

Next he’s gone and Sean turns to her asking,

‘Who’s that?’ quote 1
‘Oh, just a guy from work,’ Dana says, her ears very hot.

She turns to Sean and forces her whole face to smile. She even goes so far as to kiss Sean, who takes the kiss a little further before he suggests that they check the ticket store, the mall still has one and apparently Sam mentioned something about a band. Dana remembers to nod. They start walking but – What was that? Why was he so happy? Why didn’t he even care?

October 11, 2014May 17, 2020

love, actually

Not PG rated

The sun is milky while she lies sleeping on the cushions. She was reading, the pages lie open on her chest. He carefully picks up the piece, puts it on the table. He sits back on the glass and watches her, the proof that she is real. Some time between the successions of dawn and dusk, pain faded and allowed something else to live between them, opening up the possibility of peace.

There are no sheets. The plains barely clad, cool in their smoothness where dark pillars rise leading down to the source forgotten yet known where he drowns repeatedly tasting the texture of a touch while the heat spreads and silence is no longer a sound.

Under his hands she comes alive reaching under his skin, pulling out the pieces while he looses the last bit of weakness that fills the deep he’s breathing in, steady, steady, in and out, rise and fall, a force of life till time no longer runs and rushes but melts down into heat and darkness filled with light she holds in her hands, pressing the past into his skin, marking his body burning deep past muscle into bone until it comes like fog falling down the mountain before she cries, softly, and the air is free again.

Her body is his blanket, he does not need more against the cold. She has allowed him, released an amnesty for this witching hour where his body felt stripped, without armor, newborn, real. She has turned a blind eye on the truth that they both know for this long moment between night and morning and in her mercy there is no weakness yet he felt no strength of his own.

At a loss now, he searched for paths and ways, roads otherwise traveled that would show him what to do with his life, void and meaningless as it was without her acceptance of those words that made up his apology. The words would need to be said no matter how often he threw them against the walls barbed with silent terror, no matter how often he sent them flying, crashing against the fortress of consequence. Every living thing insisted that they be said, be it just once, otherwise everything worth living for would be dead and what was more sacred than the rise and fall, that steady beat right under the curve of her breast?

‘You haven’t been here yet, have you?’ she asks. I shake my head. We’re at her new place, an apartment she shares with a friend. It looks good, books on the table, some magazines on the easy chair, a couple o’ plants. There’s music coming out of a closed door, she whispers, ‘Eddy’s here,’ grinning like that. Must be her friend’s guy then. She asks me if I’d like some coffee, we almost got caught in the rain. I keep it to, ‘Yeah, why not.’ We talk some about everything while she walks around, those jeans fit her perfect. Like always, I don’t know what to do, exactly. She looks relaxed, she always does, there’s nothing that can really throw Celine. She pours out the coffee into mugs, stirs in milk and sugar and hands me one. She still knows how I take it. Nice.

She’s sitting on her desk chair now, facing me. I’m on her bed, she’s still got the best I’ve ever seen. Probably coz I know she’s usually in it. I’d like to stop this waiting. She finally looks back at me. She stops talking, I don’t know what she just said. She takes a sip of coffee and puts her cup down on her desk. Then she turns back to me, gets up and straddles me slow, pulling off my scull cap just like she used to. Her hands fit light on my head. She says, ‘I really like these studs on you.’ I kiss her before she starts thinking twice about it, it’s happened before. Or worse, back then, way at the beginning. Half the night talking, arguing, fighting until she was crying, shouting, ‘Why don’t you even try to get me! Why won’t you even try to understand!’ She was so pissed… Her eyes all wet, and that look on her face like I was fucking up her life on purpose. That whole weekend was – bad. Just bad. I didn’t know nothin’ then. I don’t want that now. She looks too good now.

She’s smiling when I pull her closer. Her lips are as soft as ever. Just kissing her again is… why’d nobody say you had to know stuff early? That it could happen before graduation? That your girl could just know, really know what was out there? Why’d no one say?

We used to spend whole nights just doing this, hidin’ out in her room, her folks wouldn’t let her stay out after ten, especially with me. Her old man… that guy was tough. So, she’d sneak me in when her folks were sleeping, and then… Learnt to wait with her, wait until she took out one from that pink case in her drawer next to the bed. She got me used to them, she wouldn’t let me otherwise. ‘I love you Alec, but I don’t want your babies just yet.’ She meant it to. We made plans. After, with her all curled up nice, her skin perfect, her heartbeat this steady real thing right under my hand. We’d talk about it, that house, those cars, that pool. Having everyone over for cookouts, getting Nate for the barbecues. We’d had it all planned out. ‘Xcept I thought she was just dreamin’ it up. She meant it from the start.

I remove everything on her after she pulls off my sweater, taking the shirt with it, she always does it like that. She smiles, ‘Still working the gym I see.’ Her hands are warm, perfect, why’s it with her that she just knows? I lay her out on her bed before I go for her breasts. I’ve missed them like nothing else, she’s got the most perfect pair. We both get her out of her jeans, lingerie – holy shit – wait, wait, I wanna see that – fuck… I have to ask,

‘Where’d you get this from.’
‘London.’
‘London? Like, London, England?’ books 2
‘Yeah. We have this mandatory thing where you have to leave the country for at least two weeks. I can’t do a full term so I took the two weeks Literary London. That’s how Professor Bernard calls it.’

Sometimes I just want her life. It’s always just a second, but it keeps on turning up and then I just want that way of being at the right place at the right time. Just knowing how it’s done.

‘When was this?’
‘Two months ago.’
‘How was it?’
‘Really nice. I got to see a lot.’
‘And buy this.’
‘Yeah.’

She smiles there, pulls me down – her lips are still the softest. And she did come back. She always comes back.

I go for what’s waiting between her thighs, smooth, her legs are endless with these tiny feet. There’s nothing like what she tastes like. I stay till she’s there, right there, she’s easy on her voice, her hands on my head, her feet rubbing up and down my back and I want her to black out, make her come so hard she just falls apart. I got her crying once, but now’s not the time. I’ll split open if I don’t do something – that’s new. Probably from over there. Did she –? Now’s not the time. Fits too, and I sure hope she still has a few coz I love being inside this woman. I love fucking her so much I always want to marry her right after. I’d ask her too if I didn’t know she’d just look at me and roll her eyes like I was bullshitting. Or smile that smile from that other world she lives in, which’d be worse, but now’s not the time.

. . .

‘Alec?’
‘Hm.’

That was just too good. Maybe I should move back up here again.

‘Do you still write?’

I kiss her instead of answering, I don’t want to have to explain that. I keep it long, but after I let her go she asks, ‘You still write, don’t you?’ I can’t answer that. She sits up a bit and looks at me. It’s her look, the one only she has, that special mix of anger and disappointment that she tops off with that tone as if she doesn’t know who I am anymore.

‘Why don’t you write anymore? Alec? Why don’t you write anymore?’
‘There’s no point.’
‘Why? You love to write, why’d you stop?’

She’s sitting up straight now, staring at me. If I’d said I’d robbed a place she’d look just the same. I still say it,

‘That’s not me anymore.’
‘Of course it’s you –! Alec, that’s like the one thing – ’
‘Carmine.’
‘What?’
‘Carmine. In the city, people call me Carmine.’
‘Why?’
‘Dunno. Just started.’
‘Carmine?’
‘Yeah. Or Car.’
‘Car? You mean, like, the thing you drive in?’
‘Yeah.’

I can’t help smiling. She looks really surprised.

‘But, Alec, you’re not a machine.’

It’s stuff like that, these things she says that make it so crystal how no matter what I do, I’ll never get her and she’ll never get me. Maybe Nisha’s right and street stays street, no matter what you do to get rid of it. Yeah, it says Alec Bellamy on my license, but that ain’t really me. At least not all me, and Celine here… she never got that. And I don’t think she ever will.

October 9, 2014May 17, 2020

history

Dana is crying and Christie is trying to calm her down. They were on their break, smoking a cigarette in front of the diner. The group of girls turned up like a hard cut, suddenly they were there, looking like so much trouble Dana had no time to adjust. Many things were said, but the one sentence Dana remembered was, ‘I see your sleazy ass one more time and I’ll fuckin’ cut you, bitch, I’ll fuckin’ cut you!’ said so close Dana could feel her breath on her skin.

It had taken all of Christie’s hard-nosed cool and the general crowd on the street to keep the woman from making it worse for Dana. She fled into the kitchen after the rest of the group dragged the screaming woman away. Dana refused to come out for five minutes. She had never been called ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘white trash’ in the middle of the street. Now it had happened. Kelsey had warned her the city could get rough, Kelsey, her best friend back home.

‘Be careful, ok? They do things real different over there. Like real different. You’ve gotta toughen up some. You’ve gotta stop bein’ so nice all the time.’

Hearing it was one thing. Actually living through it…. Dana’s hands are shaking, she can barely hold the coffee someone gave her. Christie keeps on looking at her like that. Dean who manages the grill just came out to check on her. Jenny the manager asks her for the third time if she’s all right. Dana nods, holding back the tears. Jenny doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t say anything either. She turns and tells everyone else, ‘All right, all right, show’s over, get back to work.’ Christie won’t let Dana bus tables for another five minutes, Dana doesn’t mind. She spends her five extra minutes breathing consciously like the councilor said. She makes a conscious effort to center herself. It doesn’t change the fact that she recognized the violence in that woman’s eyes. And with recognition memories kicked down doors Dana thought she’d locked firmly shut. At least now she knows how to shut and lock them again.

Jenny lets Dana go home early. ‘You don’t look good, honey. Go home, have some rest. See you tomorrow, ok?’ Dana nods, ‘Ok.’ Christie’s allowed to take her home, Dana saw her talk to Jenny seriously. In Dana’s apartment, Christie makes hot chocolate and cooks up some pancakes, while Dana sits huddled on her couch, staring out of the window. Her hands still tremble a little but she can hold her cup steady again. Now, safe within her own four walls, Dana realizes that she should have expected something like that to happen. She’d never seen such venom spewed so openly though, right out there in the street. The last person who shouted at her like that was Bobby, and that was in her flat.

Bobby.

Dana drinks from her hot chocolate, it’s smooth and sweet, filling her with warmth and comfort. Yes, Bobby. Bobby who she trusted like a kid, a child barely walking. Bobby who got drunk a little too often, but she didn’t notice until much later, about a year after they got together. Bobby who after that one drink too many suddenly turned into someone who threw things and hit her.

The first time was such a shock Dana stayed, she couldn’t believe it happened. It had to be a mistake. And he was very drunk. He’d been out with his boys again and Dana got angry. They started arguing, shouting, and then it happened. She couldn’t believe it, so she stayed. It had to be a mistake.

And then it happened again. Dana was so horrified, she packed her bags, took the car and drove the sixty minutes to her Mom. Bobby came looking for her the very next day. He brought her this huge bouquet of roses, the really good ones from Paradise Road next to the French café. He went down on his knees in the middle of her Mom’s tiny living room and said he was so sorry, so sorry, she didn’t know how much. He swore he would stop with the drink. He swore it would never happen again.

Her Mom was watching, her Mom who thought Bobby was ‘such a fine young man. And from such a good family, too,’ as if that made it really worth it and Dana should stick it through. So Dana said, ‘Ok.’ Deep down she didn’t trust it, she knew that now, but back then she didn’t believe what was happening. This was Bobby. He was always so sweet to her. They’d been to Hawaii together, ten days on Maui in a beautiful bungalow he rented. It was her birthday present, Bobby paid the whole thing. His family had the money, his Dad had a company that sold parts to Ford or Chrysler or maybe GM, one of the really big international ones. And his parents really liked her.

They always had Sunday brunch with them, they had this beautiful house down Lanagan Street where all the houses had pillars and beautiful terraces with couches and plants. No. 251 even had a couch swing. They always had Sunday brunch in Lanagan Street and Dana was always invited to the parties, or ‘do’s as his mother called them. They always teased her that she was going to be the next Mrs. Hillard. And they really loved Bobby, Dana always felt he could tell them everything.

That was the Bobby she knew. Bobby who was Mr. and Mrs. Hillard’s genuinely charming son. He was deferring Harvard (Harvard!) to help his Dad in the company, his Dad was still recovering from a bad heart attack. Bobby had friends and buddies everywhere, he was always getting invited to places. Everybody liked him, there was no one Dana knew who didn’t like him. He made people laugh. That was the Bobby she knew. He really just had to stop with the drink. So she went back and it went well for a long time, at least six months. Dana started thinking maybe she was being too tough on him, he really was trying. Maybe it really was just the drink, he hardly touched it anymore. And it was ok if a guy was a little jealous, wasn’t it? It showed that he really was into you, even her Mom said so, especially with such a guy like Bobby. ‘He could have anybody and he chose you.’ Even Kelsey agreed.

So Dana stayed, longer than she should have. She stayed until the last time, a Saturday night where she came back to her place from going out with Kelsey and her wild friends. Bobby had moved back in with his parents after his Dad’s bad heart attack, he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his old man, so Dana still had her own place. They did keep on talking about moving in together. Bobby really wanted to, Dana just didn’t want to live with his parents. They’d been looking at places close-by that time. Bobby was at her place that night, waiting at the door, smoking his cigarette on the steps. He was very angry. Apparently he’d seen her with someone, it didn’t matter that they were a whole group. That’s how it started, that Saturday night when she went out with Kelsey and her friends who weren’t exactly normal but really nice.

Dana held her cup tighter, pulled her legs closer. She had started to tell herself that it might have gotten much worse if she hadn’t screamed her lungs out, bringing the neighbors down the stairs and into the flat. It might have been much worse. All she had was a cracked rib and a bad concussion. It could’ve been worse. She’d heard about worse in her group. At least she had the sense to scream for help. That’s how she saw it now.

It was a warm summer night so everybody had their windows open. That’s probably why the neighbors heard. They were two, the community college guy Mark and his car mechanic friend he always had over, Stu. Stu had fixed Dana’s car for a decent price when it decided to break down again. It was Mark and Stu that night. They ran down and dragged Bobby off her and that’s when the fight started, but Mark was quick and Stu was strong. Stu kept Bobby pinned down while Mark called 911. Dana was in a corner, clutching her knees, immobile.

The police made her file a restraining order. Officer Sanchez was a woman and she didn’t ‘give a fuck if it’s the Hillards.’ She said that straight at Officer Kirkland who Dana had seen at Mrs. Hillard’s parties a few times. He always seemed to be have a really good time. Officer Sanchez didn’t care, she was furious. She’d reached Dana first, saw her face and shouted, ‘Kirkland! Look at this!’ Dana wanted to hide herself but Officer Kirkland was already there and saw everything. Dana still couldn’t forget the look on his face. Right then, she felt like something so broken, she knew she couldn’t be repaired again.

Dana didn’t want to sign the restraining order though. She didn’t want to make it worse. Officer Sanchez didn’t like that. They argued, Dana tried to explain. There’d just be trouble for her Mom who worked in one of the Hillard’s downtown offices. Her Mom was too old to find a new job if they fired her, people didn’t need secretaries that much anymore. Officer Sanchez said she’d make sure that didn’t happen. If they fired Dana’s mother, what happened to Dana would be in the paper’s next, Officer Sanchez would make sure it was front page news. Officer Sanchez looked like someone who could pull that off.

Dana still didn’t want to make the Hillards angry. Mr. and Mrs. Hillard had always been very nice to her, kind even. If she put out a restraining order on their son, that’d be the end of it, they’d never speak to her again, and if the Hillards stopped speaking to you, basically everyone else did. Just thinking of the whispering that would happen was bad enough. Officer Sanchez slammed her hand on the table, stared straight at Dana and said real calm, ‘You sign that damn paper, girl, otherwise next time he’ll be after you with an axe and there ain’t no stoppin’ that with your hands. You wanna live? In peace? Put your fuckin’ name on it.’ Her exact words. Officer Sanchez looked like she knew what she was talking about. She’d been with Dana through everything from the hospital to the questions at the station. She’d been there, through all of it, and made sure Dana knew exactly what was happening. If Dana had questions, Officer Sanchez answered them. She didn’t care how often Officer Kirkland asked her to ‘tone it down’ or ‘be careful’. Officer Sanchez wasn’t out to mess up her life, rather the opposite. So Dana signed the order.

She left after that, moved far away, deep into this city where she was just another face and another name, Dana, calling her Mom regularly to check if she still had her job. She still did, but life had really changed. She had to go shopping in Newton West now because shopping at home was no longer possible, people stared and whispered too much. A lot of people stopped talking to her, but Rachel and Melanie were still her friends, so it was ok, her Mom wasn’t all alone. And Kelsey did drop by every now and then to say hi, sending Dana texts right after like She’s doing good with a thumbs-up. And now, three years later, someone else screamed at her like that again, with eyes promising far worse to come.

Dana feels nauseous for a moment, but forces herself to stay calm. She tells herself she should have known, she did see them together. She should never have agreed to join him anywhere. She promises herself to never see or speak to him again, and takes another sip from the hot chocolate. Christie really knows how to make it. And the air smells wonderfully of fresh pancakes. She’s all alone here, yes, everything is still very strange and different, but there’s Christie who’s a real friend. The door bell rings, sharp, making both Dana and Christie jump. Christie presses the buzzer and opens the door without checking. Next, Samantha comes bolting up the stairs, shouting ‘Sorry I’m late!’ Dana sits up, surprised, Christie must have called her. Sam runs in right then, all anxious, ‘Dana! Sweetie! Are you ok?!’ Dana feels relief and joy bloom bright in her body. Yes, she has friends here, real friends, and for that she is very grateful.

October 8, 2014May 17, 2020

going out

Not PG rated

It’s five past six and the doorbell rings. Dana looks up, surprised. She was positive he would forget. Nervous, she presses the buzzer and opens her front door. He comes up the stairs, looking cool and relaxed in his scullcap and wide black jacket. He walks in and looks her up and down, surprised. Dana tries to explain.

‘I thought you wouldn’t come.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen you for so long and…’

Dana stops talking when he smiles. ‘It’s ok,’ he says. ‘Just get ready.’ Dana smiles, relieved, ‘I’ll be right out.’ She runs to her bathroom and takes a very quick shower, hoping her small apartment is ok and not too ‘lived-in’ like her Mom always said. Once done she runs to her wardrobe. She doesn’t know what to wear and asks,

‘Where are we going actually?’
‘It’s nothing big, there’s this thing at a friend o’ mine.’
‘Thing?’
‘Open mic night. They’re tryin’ out their tapes. Unless you’re not into that.’
‘Oh no, I love rap!’

Dana blushes. That came out wrong. She doesn’t turn around, but she can feel his eyes on her while she dresses. She smells coffee. It’s nice that he can keep himself busy. Some guys just became helpless. Dana doesn’t put on a lot of make up, fills up a small handbag with the essentials, and finally steps out into the middle of the room with a smile. ‘Done.’

He’s leaning against her table, a cup of coffee in his hand and smiles when he sees her. He removed his jacket, he’s wearing a light sweater and dark jeans with those white Nikes they all seem to have. He still has his skull cap on and she notices the studs in his ears, they flash in the light. They look really good on him. ‘Is it ok?’ Dana asks, turning, and he smiles like that again, nodding. He puts the cup down, picks up his jacket and they leave her apartment. Dana closes the door while he waits behind her. When she turns he kisses her. It’s a long kiss and Dana is full of smiles inside.

There is a lot of glass and light. She never leaves long enough to be completely out of sight. She makes him eat and talk, they go out for walks with Hunter. She keeps the questions away from him, but sometimes he hears the calls. As long as she is there he is able to ignore them. He always wears a hat and a scarf when he leaves the house, it’s still very cold outside.

Evenings are spent with a fire burning and shadows dancing on her face. She reads and he listens, all he wants is her voice. In the morning she lets him lie in bed until she wakes him with coffee, eggs, bacon, jam, butter and toast. She sits next to him on the sheets and watches him eat, she doesn’t leave until he’s finished. She leaves the door open when she showers and when she cooks she always talks to him. Every now and then however, the void fills every sound inside and he has to hold her, touch, feel and smell her skin. Eyes closed her scent is filled with sound, the darkness fades into something close to light and he can open his eyes again. At night it is worst. Then the silence is thick and heavy and sweet to a point that it sickens him and he has to breathe deeply to hold down his dinner. He doesn’t wake her then, his body is almost dead in these awful moments, motionless without any air.

One morning he found her crying over the kitchen sink. He felt his body go numb. She looked at him, tears streaming down her face, colourless and bright. Her shoulders were shaking, bare under the thin straps, her whole body faint with a lack of tension, all loose ends in sight. Memories sprouted, taking root and spreading like ivy on forgotten walls. In another life he would have walked to her, taken her up and carried her safely away, but then a world stood between them that had no doors for either to enter.

I think she’s enjoying it. It’s probably not the place she’d go to, but she seems to like it. She’s moving to the beat, eyes on the stage, yeah, the boys are good tonight. Vaughn’s people have this huge basement and every other week they stage some acts. It’s cool, people like it. Vaughn gets some good money out of it. Sometimes Delroy shows up, collects some tapes for that studio downtown. I haven’t seen Nisha, so that’s cool and there are enough drinks, so it’s all good. Amanda looks good. Came from a small town somewhere and got lost here, happens all the time. She ain’t got that edge yet, but that’s good somehow. And that skirt fits her damn fine.

The beats are coming through the walls. She’s all smooth and soft under her – if this goes on – hard not doin’ it with her hands all over – she’s all ready to – where’d she get that from? She smiles, all sweet, ‘I thought I should take one, just in case.’ Good thinking – Fuck – damn woman, where’d they make you? I want her to say something, like last time – all naked on pink sheets – fuck that’s good –

Back at Jermaine’s. It was closest and he’s outta town anyway. She’s sleeping now and all I can think of is Nisha and all that shouting. You really think you’ll make it? What the fuck? Why doesn’t she see it? Aly made it. And yeah, J.’s not exactly normal, but who’s normal anyway? Wonder how they are up there. Aly sounded ok on the phone. Nisha hasn’t tried anything, she can be tough like that. I won’t call. I always call.

What the – oh, yeah, she’s still here. Amanda. What kind o’ guy calls his kid Amanda? Some Rob or Hank, maybe even a Ted. Probably got married straight outta college, steady job, wife ‘n’ kids, two cars, barbecues, football, the whole thing. It’s not bad though, Amanda. Manda. Mandy. Nah. Amanda. Aman. Ama. Am. Manda. Yeah. She’s got really long hair. And she sleeps like a kid. She’s a fine girl. Not the kind to be all her on her own though. She’d be good with some banker, lawyer, someone up in those offices. She’d look seriously good in – Aly called it somethin’ – Where’s my effin’ LBD? Yeah, one o’ those. Can’t have her all up in my street though. Manda. Amanda. Sounds better the more you say it. Maybe that’s it. Better keep it down though. Nisha all pissed… Nah, better go. No need to make it worse.