THIRTY-ONE
Barry paces back and forth along the living room floor, his one shoulder sloping. He scowls. We’ve both been in variations of the same position all day. Alannah hasn’t been home in more that twenty-four hours. It’s the longest she’s ever been gone without calling.
“I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” I say. “You’re not the one missing keys.”
“Well, if you’re missing keys,” Barry stops to glare at me, “Then I’m missing keys too, ain’t I? You know, since you gave my keys to the chick who stole yours.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“Oh, come on, angel.” He’s snide. “Where else do you really think they could’ve gone?”
“I called Chloe. I also called everyone from Angels who knows her even a little bit. Girls she doesn’t even hang out with. Nobody’s seen her.”
“Somebody’s seen her. The chick has places to go. I’m telling you, she has more money than you think she does. And now she has your keys, too.”
“Why would she do that? She has keys. There’d be no reason for her to take mine.”
“Yeah? Well, I’ll lay you odds two to one she walks in the door and those keys walk right back in here with her.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Barry.”
He slaps his hand to his forehead dramatically.
I narrow my eyes. “What? What the fuck now? What?” I want to know.
He stalks over to the couch where I’m sitting, and he takes my face in his hands. “Listen to me. Okay? Are you listening? Now think. When is the very last time you saw those keys?”
I pull my head back. “You know goddamned good and well that it was when we walked in the door yesterday after the salon. I told you that already, like fifteen times. What I’m saying to you is why would she take my keys when she has her own?”
He chucks me under the chin, roughly. “Control, baby.”
I push his hand from my face. “You need to stop touching me now. I’m getting really pissed off.”
He steps back, his eyes on mine. “Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”
“Oh, DON’T even –”
The key clicks suddenly in the lock. We both stop abruptly to stare in the direction of the front door.
Alannah’s heels smack against the wooden floor as she casually strolls down the hall. She stops in the doorway when she sees us, and quickly pastes on a smile that’s as false as any I’ve ever given to a customer.
I gape at her, outraged. Her hair is done in thin, intricate little blonde box-braids, and it’s been cut a few inches. I’ve never seen the big thick hooded coat, the soft gray sweater, or the high-waisted, tight jeans she’s wearing. Because they’re all brand new.
“Hi, mama,” she says with the faintest hint of uncertainty in her voice. I use that uncertainty to pounce.
“I see you’re wearing the rent,” I blurt.
Alannah’s expression darkens. She pauses for a moment before saying, “My friends bought me these clothes.”
“Sure they did. Alannah, have you seen my house keys? We’ve been looking for them for almost two days.”
She widens her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to call you and tell you. They fell into my bag. Here.”
She reaches into a pocket and I snatch my key ring out of her hand. “Give me your set, too,” I tell her.
“Why?”
“Your shit is packed in those garbage bags by the door, your dog is tied up in the kitchen, and I’m not even gonna dignify that question with an answer.”
Alannah saunters over to me and gets very close. Her stance feels threatening. I flinch automatically.
She cackles, and turns away. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
I leap off my perch and move towards her. “Excuse me?”
She swivels around again, looking amused and unruffled. “You think I didn’t see this one comin’, ma? You think I don’t know why you wanted me to live with you in the first place?”
I can feel my heart rate jump up a few notches while an adrenaline blush spreads over my skin. It’s that smirk of hers that’s driving me crazy right now. I want to slap it off her wicked little face.
“And why is that? Since clearly, you know everything,” I ask her.
I know I’m feeding into this, but I can’t help myself – it’s been a long time coming.
“Oh, please, mama, everybody knows about you. You don’t give a fuck about me. You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.”
“Oh, yeah, right! That’s fantastic!” I exclaim angrily. “Coming from the girl who rides everyone’s coattails back and forth through the underworld, the word, ladies and gentlemen, is that I’m fuckin’ selfish!”
With this last statement, I glance over at Barry for support, but he’s just standing quietly against the wall watching us.
“You know, you got some nerve, actin’ like you’re smarter than everyone else – like you know what’s best for anyone. You took me in so you could feel important. That’s the only reason.”
“Is that what you think?” I continue to challenge her, but that last sentence is enough to stop me in my tracks. I’m not sure what takes me farther aback. The epiphany itself, or the fact that it came from Alannah.
“It’s what I know,” she says, tossing her hair so that the new braids shake.
“Do you even have any idea how much money I have spent – and lost – since you showed up?” I ask.
Alannah accosts me. Now we are facing each other down. “Who asked you to?”
“I want you… to take your things… and get the fuck out of my house,” I say, looking her firmly in the eye.
She laughs. “Take it easy, you dumb bitch. I’m going. I got better places to be than this.”
“DON’T YOU EVER CALL ME DUMB!” I bellow, and I shove her.
“DON’T FUCKIN’ TOUCH ME, DYKE!” she hollers in response, backhanding me once across the face.
I snarl like an animal and start blindly throwing punches. Most of my blows don’t connect, but at least I’m able to block hers as well. I’m trying to make a grab for her hair. The worst part is, none of the hits I land seem to disturb her at all. I’m wearing myself out, so angry I’m nearly crying, and I can’t even put a hurting on this stupid cunt.
She knocks me down. I bring her with me. Then we are grappling with each other on the floor in a manner that curiously resembles the day I made her come through her pants with my vibrator. It’s the same kind of energy.
Our combined, seething rage carries a strange voracity. It’s confusing, frustrating, and for me it culminates in the peculiar resentment that seems to go hand in hand with being attracted to women in the first place. I have time to think that maybe all our customers are on to something. But mostly I don’t think at all. Instead, I give in to the urge to conquer. The spoils of the match are less important than the fury that pulses through every breath. When I finally do get a handful of her hair, she’s also got her hands in mine. Our faces are close together. Her lips, those pretty ones that I kissed without a drop of reciprocation, are curled and sneering now. She thinks I’m a joke.
Barry has been standing over us the whole time trying to get his arms in between us, saying, “Take it easy! Cut that shit out!” Somehow, he is finally able to separate us, and he drags me backward.
“This is completely ridiculous,” he scolds, tightening his grip on me as I try to pull away so that I can charge Alannah again. He throws me onto the couch, where I land hard.
“KEEP FUCKING STILL!” Barry shouts at me.
Alannah is already standing up and dusting herself off. “You’re gonna pay me if you ripped my new coat,” she says from across the room.
“I’ll tear you and your stupid coat to shreds,” I pant from the couch, and Barry shakes me so hard that my teeth rattle.
“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!” he yells into my face, and I turn my head to avoid his rancid breath. “Everybody just calm the fuck down,” he continues. “Alannah already said she’s leaving. She can’t leave if you won’t let her go.”
She exits the room to get her dog. “C’mon, Papi,” I hear her cluck.
“I did more for you than anyone ever has!” I spit in the direction of the hallway.
“You did shit for me,” she returns as she passes the room with her puppy in her arms.
Barry is holding onto me, forcing me to remain on the couch. Alannah flings her keys onto the coffee table and licks her lips. “See you at work,” she jeers.
I hear the garbage bags crunch as she picks them up. The puppy squeals and whines, the door bangs hard, and then she’s gone. Barry finally does let go of me. I light up a cigarette, blowing the smoke through my nose over tightly pressed lips.
After a few hurried drags, I look down at my hands, and notice without surprise that they’re shaking. My chest feels weak, my stomach sick.
I address Barry in a low voice. “If you’re going to say ‘I told you so,’ then do me a favor and just keep it to yourself, okay? I don’t need to hear it right now.”
He gives me a condescending look. I’m too tired to call him on it. I leave him in the living room, choosing to sit on the edge of the bathtub instead. I tap cigarette ash into the toilet bowl, and I fidget.
Why should I bother lending a hand when all anyone ever seems to do is bite it? What is the point of caring about other people? It’s clear to me that whenever I go out of my way to connect with someone, they always fuck me over. Or they simply leave. And either way, in the end I always wind up alone with my ambiguous, elastic identity.
So perhaps I’m better off that way.
Continue reading:
| « Previous: THIRTY | Next: THIRTY-TWO » |
Subscribe via RSS
Subscribe via email
April 7th, 2009 at 3:29 pm
Hey Lauri,
Great chapter, but it didn’t show up in my rss feed! Maybe you should check that out?!
Cheers,
Jan
April 8th, 2009 at 4:00 am
Will do, thanks for letting me know!
April 12th, 2009 at 5:29 am
i just read, practically straight through 1-31…needless to say i’m riveted.
April 13th, 2009 at 6:04 am
Wow, Fucan, that’s wonderful! I’m really happy to hear you like the story so much. Thanks for reading.