Grandview, p.12
Grandview, page 12
The lifeguard truck was getting closer, and it looked like it was just lined up perfectly to come right at him, but he wasn’t going to move. They would just have to go around him this time. And they did go around, but the looks the lifeguards gave him made him angry. They just stared right back at him. He could tell they did not respect him at all. He wondered how they would feel if they knew who he was back home. He probably had more money than all the lifeguards on this whole beach put together. They had no idea.
Alberto watched the truck disappearing back to the other end of the beach. He could see all kinds of people up around the cliff side, and they didn’t stop to talk to any of them. There were little groups everywhere, and none of them seemed to pay any attention to the lifeguards, and the lifeguards paid no attention to them, so he must have been singled out. They had no idea who he was. He was at an exclusive party in their town just recently, where they would not have been welcome. They just had no idea.
The truck was so small he could barely see it, when he noticed a girl in the foreground walking his way. Her skin was pasty, much lighter than anyone else around her, but she had a great body. She carried a towel beneath one arm. Alberto had the thought that if she dropped the towel, her hips would catch it. That’s how shapely she was. And she had sunglasses on, so it was hard to tell, but he thought that she might be looking back at him.
Chapter 28: Destination
As she mounted the stairs leading to the front door of Patricia’s condominium, a strange thought occurred to Heather. As a girl she had seen a stop-motion children’s program in which a toy train drove around on a set of magic tracks. She could not recall the name of the program but remembered this particular scene most vividly. The tracks extended a short distance from either end of the train, and as the train moved forward the rearmost length of track disappeared, teleported instantly to the space in front of the locomotive. Thus enabled, the little train progressed unimpeded in all directions without following any predesignated route.
She marveled at this illustration of freedom, having always felt sorry for trains, poor, lumbering giants, condemned to move only along predetermined cross-continental pathways, never allowed to inspect personally the landscapes they passed through. Recently on a road trip through the Southwest, she saw many trains, many of them incredibly long. She wished upon them the freedom of those magic tracks, pitying their servitude, having retained from childhood the suspicion that trains were somehow alive.
Since her run-in with Alberto on the beach and perhaps before then, Heather felt both constricted and unrestrained, magic as well as mechanical. Placing one foot before another, speaking one word after another, she continued onward to what she knew would be her greatest taken risk. While the path she followed seemed always to terminate just steps ahead, it was renewed continually at every turn. The opposite occurred behind her, removing her way of escape. At the same time, she could not help feeling the regenerative path itself to be an illusion, the mere visible portion of an aged, serpentine railroad, configured in forgotten times by the sweat of demigods and their surveyor’s transit.
Heather inserted the key. As she turned it, the deadbolt slid into itself, and large, soft hands came to rest on her shoulders. The hands fell to her hips, and then fell away. He entered behind her and closed the door. He returned his hands to her shoulders, this time facing her, without speaking. Heather’s phone beeped. On the screen was the preview of a message from Patricia. Heather excused herself and took her phone into the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and absorbed the communiqué.
“Girlfriend. I approve! No cams in bedrooms. Condoms in closet bottom shelf. Have fun! <3”
Heather finished brushing her teeth and used some flushable wipes to freshen her body. She returned to where Alberto waited and led him to her room. Ahead of her at last became visible the hard and unchanging path, undisguised, no longer in the similitude of a magic railroad for children. It was firm, and paved, years long, inevitable. The condoms were in the closet on the bottom shelf.
Chapter 29: Witness
“So,” Terrance said, “you’re literally telling me you prefer some generic, mass-produced junk like that over the hand-crafted perfection that is Leucadia Pizza?”
“Misrepresentation,” Madison said. “They cook it at the place from ingredients. It’s no different.”
“Even if that were so,” Terrance said, “it’s a matter of privilege and responsibility. When we’re at home, we should sup—”
“Shut up, dude,” Madison said.
“No,” Terrance said, “I will not. When we’re home, we have the privilege of ordering something we can’t get other places.”
Terrance picked up what looked to be a tiny golden picture frame from the pile of freshly opened mail on the table between them and held it up. It was a wedding invitation, fashioned from heavy, embossed paper. The photograph it held was of a young couple embracing beneath the Albuquerque skyline.
“When we’re in Albuquerque,” he said, pointing to the photograph, “I’m going to ask around to find something unique to the area, and you’re going to bitch and moan until we just order Domino’s to the hotel. You’re going to order the same damn thing you want to order right now.”
“Probably I will,” Madison said.
“Without a doubt you will,” Terrance said.
“If Leucadia was there, would you order it?”
“You are ... unimaginative.”
“You are ... deceived,” Madison said, imitating his tone. “And you, my love, are a hipster. Hipsters think things are good because they’re local, but Leucadia crust tastes like cookies, and it is disgusting.”
“Bullshit,” Terrance said. “Only you think that.”
“I am myself,” Madison said. Terrance sighed.
“I propose a compromise,” he said, walking toward her.
“And I’m listening,” Madison said.
Terrance stopped in front of where his fiancée sat and stood to full height. Looking down at her he said, “I’m ordering Leucadia.”
“Oh, are you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“So what’s the compromise?”
“The compromise,” Terrance said, “is that I make it worth your while.”
“And how,” Madison said, “do you intend to do that?” Terrance slowly lowered himself so that his eyes were level with hers.
“From the time the order is placed,” Terrance said, softly, “until it arrives, I’ll do ... whatever ... you want.”
“Whatever,” Madison said, “as in whatever whatever?” Terrance nodded slowly. Madison gave a wry smile. “Order your pizza,” she said and began to unbutton her jeans.
“The blinds, Maddie,” Terrance said.
“Oops,” Madison said.
Terrance walked off to find his phone, and Madison made her way to the windows. As she was pulling them shut, from the corner of her eye she saw movement through her neighbor’s large bedroom window. It was wide open to the clouded afternoon sky, and the interior of the room was brightly lit, creating a sort of high-visibility diorama. The particularities of the Wongs were old news, and so she was not surprised to see two writhing, nude figures inside the room. She herself had a standing invitation to David and Patricia’s parties, as did Terrance, but it was not something either of them had considered seriously. Madison tried to look away, when the woman cried out in a series of cinematically passionate exclamations. Seconds later, similar cries emanated from the man. It was then that Madison remembered Patricia was out of town.
Forgetting the task for which she had set out in the first place, Madison stepped behind an adjacent shoji screen and peered through the hinges. The lovers lay enmeshed. Each was very attractive in form. The man was muscular, handsome, and brown-skinned. The woman’s body appeared flawless, though exceptionally pale. Together, they looked manufactured, unreal, like the airbrushed cover images on her mother’s bodice-rippers. Suddenly, the man raised his head and looked directly back into Madison’s eyes, or so it seemed to her. The panel between them was hung with scarves and the room behind her was dark. Nevertheless, she instinctively shrank back without removing her gaze.
The man said something to the woman, and the woman also now looked back at Madison, and began to rise from the bed. Madison froze. The woman stood up, tall and thin but for a set of Rubenesque hips, her golden hair falling down in waves over tidy, round breasts. Approaching the window, her visible form was gradually reduced until only her bust could be seen, framed by the casement window like a portrait of Diana, painted in strokes of light by the spirit of a Pre-Raphaelite.
Madison could now see the woman was a little sunburned around the neck and shoulders. The Wong’s home was highly automated, and so while the blinds closed together between the panes of the window the woman remained still, having only to press a button for the action to occur. She stood there, looking down, as the blinds slid closed like stage curtains, obscuring both her and the man, and then the rest of Patricia’s bedroom. Madison’s jaw fell open into something like a gaping smile when she recognized the woman’s face.
“Are we doing this or not?”
Madison started. She had not noticed Terrance’s return.
“Maddie,” Terrance said, peering out the window, “what are you doing?” Madison’s expression morphed into a suggestive grin.
“Come,” she said, and led Terrance back to the sofa, removing her jeans along the way.
Chapter 30: Tenderness
From where he stood on the busy sidewalk, talking on the phone, Sean winked and held up his hand with the thumb and forefinger almost touching. From the restaurant patio, the pretty girl nodded and smiled. That girl, Sean thought, is so hot. I had no choice. It would be a crime not to—
“All right, bud,” Scott said. “You’re sorted.”
“Dude,” Sean said, “thanks so much.”
“Not a problem,” Scott said.
“I swear I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Scott said. “You will not.”
“I can’t accept that, Scott,” Sean said, very much intending to accept Scott’s offer.
“Sean,” Scott said, “remember Costa Rica? Remember what I told you?”
“Yes,” Sean said.
“My word,” Scott said, “has no expiration date, brother. I told you, one day I’d come through for you. Didn’t I say that? Didn’t I fucking say that?”
“Yes,” Sean said, “you did.”
“Today is that day,” Scott said. “You sorry bastard. I could have disappeared that night, man. For good. You take this, you get square. End of story.”
“Thanks,” Sean said. “You’re saving me, man.”
“Good,” Scott said, “now I can sleep at night. Listen, I gotta go.”
“Thanks again, Scott,” Sean said.
“You got it,” Scott said. “Give our girl Esme a kiss from me, okay? If you want, give her another thing too with my compliments.”
“I will,” Sean said, laughing.
“And don’t ever bring this up again,” Scott said.
“I won’t,” Sean said.
“Good boy,” Scott said, “and good night.”
“Good night,” Sean said, grinning, and hung up. He had asked Scott for a short-term loan of ten thousand dollars. Scott instead gifted him fifteen with no strings attached. Everything was going to be all right. He peered through the railing at the pretty girl, who had not ceased watching him. He held up his index finger and mouthed the words, “One minute.” She turned down the corners of her mouth, and with her own index finger traced from her eye the path of an imaginary tear. Sean called Esme, but she did not answer, and the call went to her voicemail. Sean hung up without leaving a message and walked back to the table where the pretty girl was waiting.
As he neared the table, his phone began to vibrate. He felt it there in the pocket of his sport coat, but the pretty girl’s expectant face kept him from even checking to see who was calling. She had already waited so long and looked so happy that he was coming back to the table. He couldn’t bring himself to disappoint her again. He wanted to give her his full attention, especially since this would be their last night together, and she would be so sad tomorrow.
She looked fantastic in her new light-blue dress, which he had purchased for her with cash earlier that day. And she had been so excited, back at the hotel, as Sean zipped up the back for her. When she looked in the mirror, and saw how pretty she was, she covered his face and neck with kisses. That moment Sean would cherish for the rest of his life.
Part Four
Chapter 31: Novios
Tendrils of smoke began to rise from beneath the well-ordered hardwoods. Eddie Johnson continued blowing through the kindling, doubled over the concrete edge of the fire pit. His head raised for air and lowered again, like a beast at the trough, and still the wispy tendrils rose. At last, orange flames peeked through the conical structure of uniform, cylindrical birch logs, soliciting cheers from the gathering crowd.
She walked back alone, he thought, and I let her do it. The little memory album he kept, round-edged and continually simplifying, forever contained one crystal-clear image of her. I let her do it. He turned to watch her go, but she did not look back. Her framed backpack was bright orange, but the bottom was wet and so appeared darker. This was because she had set it down, just on the spot where he had told her not to do that very thing. An orange carabiner (stamped “not for climbing”) hung useless from a daisy chain sewn onto the shell of the lower compartment. It flopped rhythmically as she stormed away down the trail.
“Dude, Eddie. Great party the other night.”
“Hey, Jody. Yeah, that was great.”
“Did you meet your goal or whatever?”
“The fundraiser?”
“Yeah, like, whatever amount you were trying for? I dunno.”
“Oh, yes, thank God,” Eddie said, remembering the jubilant reaction of his team to Robert’s second donation. The amount of that check, handwritten from Robert’s personal account, was staggering. Together with the Watershed pledge from the night of the fundraiser, the sum of Robert’s offerings eclipsed the entire contents of the glass pig combined. Eddie attempted to refuse, but Robert had insisted. “The event was successful, for sure. You had a good time?”
“For sure.”
“Well, awesome. Good to see you, girl.”
“You too,” Jody said before darting away after another friend.
Eddie returned to sorting the wood, stacking the marshmallows, arranging the hot dogs, and filling the cooler with ice and drinks. The others around the fire pit watched as he performed these tasks, contributing nothing, while speaking to each other of things they found interesting. I let her walk back, alone. And I wasn’t there when she fell. Four years had passed since Shannon died. All that had been her natural body was now earth. Ashes to ashes, her remains were scattered beneath towering coastal redwoods. From dust to dust, there she lay, mixed into a few acres of acidic soil. They said there was nothing he could have done.
Eddie could not go back now, back to those dark weeks of hard grieving and oversharing. And so everyone knew everything about Shannon and viewed Eddie’s life through the lens of her death. Like a drop of food coloring in a dish of clear water, Shannon’s hue lightly touched all things. At the fundraiser Eddie’s eye had fallen upon a tall woman whose name he could not recall. She was a friend of Leticia’s, an old acquaintance. She was very beautiful. It seemed she could not see him, there in that room, tinted with Shannon.
When Leticia and Robert arrived, without the woman, Eddie focused on building the fire. He thought of Shannon, the useless carabiner, and the four inches of water in which she drowned. Face down and unconscious, they said she passed on without experiencing much pain. She lost her footing and somehow cracked her skull open on a trail marker. Her body slid into the water, but she didn’t feel that part. Had she come to rest on a bed of leaves, she may yet have died. There was nothing he could have done to help her, short of keeping her from walking away in the first place. For the sake of his life, Eddie could not remember what their final argument had been about.
Finally he saw her, the tall woman, walking toward him with Kylie. Graceful above the undulating sand, her black hair in crown braids, she approached the fire pit. Externally unmoved, Eddie racked his brain, searching for her name. Something Mexican, he thought, something short. Or short for something. Carla, Linda, Ana, Reina, Duquesa, Vero—
“Vero!”
She stopped, looked, and smiled. Kylie waved and continued walking.
“Wow, Eddie,” she said. “I’m impressed. What’s it been, five years?”
“At least,” he said. “So good to see you. How’ve you been?”
“Good ... great, actually. How have you been?”
“Great. Really good.”
“Wonderful.”
“I saw you at the party. Sorry I didn’t say hi. I was so busy.”
“Oh, goodness, no worries,” Vero said. Quietly, she added, “It’s not as though your hands weren’t full.” They both looked quickly at Robert and Leticia, who stood apart from the group, close together.
“Yeah, I think they’ll be all right.”
“I think so too.”
“Oh man,” Eddie said. “I left a couple things in the truck, but I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go with you,” Veronica said. “If that’s okay, I mean.”
“Sure, yeah,” Eddie said too eagerly. Be cool, he thought, you hardly know this girl. Everything’s cool. Affecting nonchalance, he put on his best sangfroid demeanor and began walking toward the concrete. Slightly taller, light-footed, and nimble, she floated along beside him. From the clasp of her reticule hung a decorative silver lock on which was stamped the shape of a keyhole. Against it clinked a tiny, useless silver key. His thoughts returned to Shannon, while trudging up the concrete ramp with Vero at his side.
