“Jason, he pressed me about you, and I might have mentioned that you killed a few people.”
“Ha! Did you tell him everything?” asked Jason.
“Enough!” responded Mark.
“Enough? What does that mean?”
“Well… I told him about the Italian mafia guy you disposed of… And the bit about the restaurant that one time.”
“I suppose that explains something, then.” He chuckled as they left the building. “So now what? What shall we do?”
“I really want to see Gabriela if she can get free… What about you? What do you want to do?” asked Mark.
“I want to go to the club and play, and then maybe find Saya, and maybe Angela, too. But you know, this Saya is different. If anyone could understand how I am feeling now, it would be her.”
Mark smiled. “You never stop. What is this thing you have about having more than one girl? I am never sure if you are serious, or if you are playing with me.”
The street was empty until they passed a man bouncing up and down with enthusiasm, buying a hot dog from a stand.
“Lots of mustard!” bellowed the short, stocky guy with bright red cheeks. “And plenty of those onions of yours! I love your onions, Armando!” It was obvious that they knew each other.
Jason looked at Mark. “Have you ever put one of those things in your mouth? They look so strange to me, and they have such a pungent smell!”
“Humans get a lot of pleasure from food,” Mark replied. “It seems to comfort as well as nourish them. It appears that their biological and emotional needs are satiated in many ways through food. It is interesting how some foods seem to mean more to them than others. It’s personal to them. Each has a special meaning. I think memories have something to do with it. That man feels all warm inside from the hot dog, and it’s not just from its boiling hot temperature or the spicy onions. He finds a kind of satisfaction, almost like being told he is fine, that the world is fine. Look at him, he’s so happy! He is like a baby being hugged. Curious to see, isn’t it?”
“I wish it could be so simple for us! Just eat a hot dog and everything is fine.”
“I don’t think it is all that simple for them, either,” replied Mark. “If it were, I would just take Gabriela out for a pastrami sandwich tonight, and peace would reign.”
“So, anyway, I hope I see you later, Mark. After we have some fun tonight, we can think about the meeting. I feel ready… ready for anything… So, whenever you want to do it, let’s go.”
“Yes, I feel more confident about the meeting with the Council, as well. I’ll see you in a while, unless Gabriela is a total mess.”
“Okay, I wish you good luck with that!” Jason laughed, and with a playful gait, he sauntered down the street, turning as only a star could, and waved goodbye.
He became aware of Mark’s eyes following him and smiled, a smile that could only be defined as Jason. It was warm and devilish at once. It possessed the confidence of the universe, a power that glowed deep. Between them lived a comprehension that redefined empathy. A meaning that was theirs, a bond that they alone could share.
And Jason thought, I will never be alone.
Chapter 37: Waiting for Mark
Gabriela was sitting in her kitchen. George had just gone out. She did not ask him where he was going. There was a lot of that now: time without talking, long, empty silences followed only by necessary words. Why is he hanging on? Why am I?
Gabriela poured herself a drink, some of her husband’s Laphroaig single malt. She had taken a liking to it lately. It had a smoky aftertaste. She liked that. It reminded her of finality. She went over to her desk and opened the manuscript she had been working on. Her publisher was pressuring her for chapters. With tired eyes, she looked at the pile of term papers sitting unread on the table.
Oh shit, I need to read those and grade them. They’re due in two days. I could just give them a quick breeze through and grade them all right now. Would they ever know? But they are so accustomed to my scathing comments in the margins, my biting criticism. They crave my acerbic stabs to their precious monologues! Gabriela knew what brought them back every semester to suffer in her “chamber of wisdom and torture,” as they called it. They will all think I had a breakdown! But you are having a breakdown you fool. You can’t think, you are not getting your work done, and your marriage is over. Why am I insisting on this scorching immolation of my being? Is it guilt, or is it that I know I will never have what I want? I feel so… so… Oh, damn you, Mark! Why don’t you call me?
“I’ll call Mama!” she said out loud. That always helps! Well, sometimes, anyway. She may not make sense, but hearing her voice makes me feel better. She dialed and got a busy signal.
It must be that the lines are all taken! I’ll try again in a few minutes. Just then the phone rang. She picked up.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi, it’s me. Can you talk? Are you alone?”
“Yes, I can talk! And…” she spoke angrily. “And if you are who you say you are, you know I’m alone!”
“Yes, I know you are alone. I thought that sounded polite for some reason. Anyway, that’s not what I meant. How are you feeling?” Mark asked softly.
“Feeling? I feel like day-old bread that has been cut up into tiny pieces! I’m crumbling and breaking apart Mark. I am sad, sad and confused. I’m not sure of anything anymore, sometimes even who I am. All I know is that I love you, but instead of feeling happy, it hurts.”
“Yes, I know…” he interrupted. “We seem to have gotten swept away, I’ve pulled you into my life, not knowing why, but I really did not have a choice. I mean, it was supposed to be, I’m sure. And I’m not sorry. Tell me you’re not sorry! Can we meet? How about a pastrami sandwich and some greasy French fries? What do you say?”
“Oh! That sounds so great. Shall we go to The Stage again? I loved the dessert we had after we left there! I need to have some fun, and Mark I’m not sorry at all.”
“Gabriela let’s meet downtown. How about the 2nd Avenue Deli? Maybe we can go to The Dom after, and you can meet my brother, if you like. What do you say? Are you up for it?”
“Oh yes, yes! I’m up for it. Just give me two hours to whip through some papers, and I’ll grab a cab. You can call me back in two hours to check that I’ve finished, or…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll know when you’re done. So I’ll see you later. Okay?”
“Yes, yes, okay. I feel better already.”
Mark didn’t want to go back to the apartment, and he was conflicted about going to The Dom. Jason, in his never-ending playful mood, was tempting him, wanting him to feel uncomfortable. He can act like a child sometimes, Mark thought. I am sure he wants to see me with that girl Helena just to torment me. He loves the theatrical; too much time on the stage, I think.
Mark decided to walk. He walked uptown as far as the Flatiron Building. I love this building. It’s so quietly proud. Mark studied how the ornate façade mingled seamlessly with its edges. It has no need to compete with the giants surrounding it. It has such elegance.
Mark recalled a photograph by Edward Steichen. He had seen the picture at a gallery about a year ago. Those reaching, lonely tree branches and the horse carriage in the foreground, the beautiful aqua blue color… Steichen was a master at the gum bichromate print. He loved New York; he felt the city in his bones. There were several different versions of the photograph, but the aqua blue one was Mark’s favorite. Some called it romantic, but for Mark, it held a rumpus mystique from a bygone time, a time of high hats and petticoat dresses, of trolley cars and horseshit underfoot, of hungry paper boys in worn coats, their noses full of the smell of fresh bagels, yelling out the daily news. Life was hard back in 1904.
Two hours had passed, and he found himself back in the East Village. He knew that Gabriela had finished her work and had dressed. He found a phone and called her.
She picked up. “Hello?”
“So, you’re ready to come downtown n
ow?”
“Yes, I’m ready to leave.”
“Okay, see you in about a half hour at the deli.” Mark hung up the phone.
He arrived before Gabriela and took a booth at the rear of the restaurant. He wondered whether or not he should tell her about his concerns. Should I talk about the upcoming meeting with my home world? My fears? Would she understand? If I leave it unsaid, she may know I am hiding something.
Gabriela entered the restaurant; heads turned. She had draped her fur coat over her shoulders and was wearing a black silk dress that hugged her body like the shimmering skin of a black mamba. On her head, she wore a cropped black hat with a small veil that partially concealed one eye. Fishnet stockings and stiletto heels completed her arrival.
“Hello, Gabriela,” Mark said, smiling. “You look fantastic,” he said, yet he sensed her stress.
“Hi, Mark. Thank you. I wanted to wow you tonight. I felt really dark today, so I wore black. But you know me: even when I’m depressed, I do it in style. You know, when I meet the devil, it will be in high heels, and you can bet I’ll turn him on.”
“You always turn me on.”
“Yes,” she forced a smile, “but I think you may be an easier conquest than Satan!”
Mark wanted to cheer her up but wasn’t sure what to say. “I guess I am; you had me from the start. But maybe you shortchanged yourself. I’m sure I have things to learn from the devil,” he laughed.
Gabriela motioned to the waiter. “Say, do you think I can get a couple of extra cloth napkins? I am going to order something large and greasy, and this is a new dress.”
Looking annoyed, the waiter replied, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Mark, you pulled me out of the depths with your call. I am so glad to see you. I’m sorry for being in such a neurotic state, stupid I know, but I can’t seem to help it. Mark, I feel like I have been sitting on a train, watching the world rush by. It’s like looking at a field of flowers pushing colors into each other. Everything’s so confused and directionless. It works in a Manet, but not for me! Damn… I’m a mess Mark! I need a lot of distraction tonight, some real fun.”
Mark could see the darkness under Gabriela’s eyes. Her skin was gray and drawn beneath her make-up. Her sparkle was fading. He knew she had been drinking a lot these past days; her marriage and the confusion of this romance had been taking a toll upon her and he felt responsible. He thought about what he could do.
He wanted to show her a good time. But he knew she needed more than that. He must somehow increase her strength. He could, in fact, change her very cellular structure and make her younger, although he had never done this before. He knew he would have to be careful. Just give her a bit of a galactic vitamin pill. After all, he did not want her to turn into a seventeen-year-old. Touching her hand, he explored her body. Within a millisecond, he repaired her recent damage and eliminated the poisons roaming her system. He released her body’s natural tranquilizers to steady her nerves. A mild but subtle euphoria emerged, the grayness vanished, and a radiance rose from her skin. The sparkle returned.
Okay, that should be enough for now, he thought. I have made her at least a few years younger. It is buzzing inside her. She is going to be happy.
“Oh, you made my fingers tingle just then. Almost like a static electric shock.” She took a breath. “You know, I feel so much better now that we are together. All of a sudden I’m very relaxed.”
“Yes, you are looking better.” Mark realized her body’s natural ability to regenerate was at work.
“Gabriela, it is going to be okay. I know I’ve been a big part of the problem, but you just have to give it some time, me some time. But first, I think you should eat yourself into a stupor, and when you are ready to burst, we will go hear some music at The Dom.”
“The Dom…? Can we get some drugs there? I would love to get really stoned. It’s been forever since I have been high on something!”
“I’m sure my brother can find some for you, but…”
“Oh, that’s right, I am going to meet your brother, the other one, right? My, this is going to be a very interesting evening!”
The waiter returned with the napkins. She took two, tucking one into the top of her dress, hiding her breasts and protecting its fine fabric. She placed the other on her lap. The waiter set two menus on the table.
“I don’t need the menu. I’ll take the biggest pastrami on rye you can make, French fries and a side of coleslaw. Yes! And a cherry coke, too. My stomach is howling, and I am starved. How about you, Mark? Do you know what you want?”
Mark looked at the waiter. “Just some apple juice, if you have it, for now.”
“Okay, coming right up,” responded the waiter, who was off with a quick turn.
“I feel like a ravenous hyena sometimes when I am with you, eating like a starved pagan, and here you are, taking a juice or picking at a little toast! Can’t you just order something, so I don’t feel like such a pig?”
“Okay, when he comes back, I’ll order some hot dogs. Believe it or not, I’ve never had one. I was talking to my brother about them the other day. How strange they look to us.”
“Your brother… Tell me about him. He plays in a band, you said? Is he studying someplace too? What is he doing with himself?”
Mark smiled. He had become accustomed to Gabriela’s rapid-fire discourse by now. “You know, the academic thing is just a cover for us. We really learn and acquire knowledge differently than humans do. Anyway, my brother is quite special. We look very much alike. Our hair and eyes are a bit different, but outside of that, we are similar; twins, in fact. Our, let’s say, personalities, our feelings, perceptions and thoughts, are not exactly in tune.”
“What do you mean ‘not in tune’? How is he ‘not in tune’?”
‘‘Well, he is a bit more exotic in his taste, more untamed. He doesn’t exactly venerate humans or hold your kind in much esteem.’’
“He is a supercilious type of person.”
“Well, it can go further than that, but he loves to have a good time with people. He knows how to party, and he really likes many things about humans. I know it sounds contradictory, but he is complicated. In fact, he has grown quite close to one girl, and he also cares for the people in his band. His occasional contempt for humans lies more in the realm of social criticism, if I were to give it a category. And he can express his opinions very strongly at times.”
“He sounds very interesting. I can’t wait to meet him. Anyway, I feel so good right now, nothing could bother me. Not even a rude brother. Oh, look. Here is our food. How delectable it looks. So, do you want those hot dogs? Tell the waiter.” Then, without waiting for his words, she continued, “Bring him two hotdogs.” And Mark interrupted, “With red onions, please.”
“So, you’re feeling a little on the spicy side?” she retorted. “Now, I don’t want to hear any objections, I am not eating alone.”
“We don’t have red onions here. That’s a Spanish thing. Only sauerkraut and mustard,” said the waiter.
“Okay, then. Sauerkraut,” said Mark.
“Sure,” he responded. “Anything else…?”
“No, that will be enough,” said Mark, turning to Gabriela. “I am not sure if I am going to like the taste of the sauerkraut, or even the frankfurter itself, actually, but I am curious.”
“You won’t die. The meat is Kosher,” she said.
“Oh, that makes me feel much better.” The thought of eating the processed remains of a living thing was barbaric enough, but the thought of the meat being blessed by a holy man was an absurd contradiction to Mark. Still, he was determined to see it through, if for nothing else but the experience of having done it once.
The hotdogs came, and Gabriela said, “Here, let me show you.” She lathered the frankfurter with mustard and then piled on the sauerkraut. “There, now take a bite.”
Mark complied dutifully; he chewed and swallowed in a gulp.
“So, what do you think?” ask
ed Gabriela.
“Well, I think I would like it better without the hot dog.” He removed the frankfurter from the roll and continued eating the sauerkraut and the mustard with the bun. “Yes. This is much better.” He smiled.
“You are just too strange, Mark, but whatever gets you through the night, as they say.”
Mark watched Gabriela systematically devour her food. She alternated between bites of the sandwich and forkfuls of French fries and coleslaw. Although the sandwich dripped with fats and juices, the French fries were immersed in a sea of ketchup, and the coleslaw lay wet and sopping on her plate. Still, she managed not to get one drop on her new dress. She ate the food so quickly that when the waiter returned to bring her cherry coke, it was gone.
“Oh my God, that was good,” she said. “I am about to explode, but I really feel great.” She picked up her cherry coke and drank half the glass in one swoop. “Aw, I feel like a pirate’s wench.” She laughed out loud.
“Another meal like that, and you might look like one,” answered Mark.
Gabriela took out a cigarette. “Thanks, Mark, did you forget your flattery shoes at home today? Are we in the smoking section? I really need this cigarette.”
“Oh sorry, I think you’re okay,” responded Mark.
Gabriela lit up and took a deep drag on her Lucky Strike. “Oh, this is just perfect, and the night is still in front of us.” She looked at the waiter. “Can I get a coffee? Coffee and cigarettes after pastrami and French fries… You don’t get more New York than this. Just heaven.”
“I’m glad you’re satisfied. You look happy.” Of course, Mark inwardly knew that it was because of him and not the pastrami that the revolution within her occurred. “Let’s make it an evening to remember. I can’t wait for you to meet Jason.”
“Yes, I am going to meet your brother. I told you I had a brother. He died when I was just fourteen. He was my older brother, and I worshiped him. Remember, he was a bullfighter? He was very handsome, thin, and graceful. But on one August day, he was not graceful enough. A bull tore apart his liver. I looked on as my mother cried at his bedside. I didn’t tell you… I know I didn’t. It’s hard talking about it. A part of me died that day. The part that was always hopeful. Since then, I have always feared losing the ones I love.” She looked at Mark. “I never feel really sure about tomorrow.” Then, taking a breath, “Anyway, I am excited about meeting your brother.”
Soteria- The Crisis Forge Page 21