by A A Bavar
Slowly, Patricia looked up and opened her eyes, her face mere inches from Paul’s. For the first time, she noticed the small amber speckles that peppered Paul’s eyes, and she wondered how much more there was to be discovered. She smiled and with her eyes still open, brushed her lips against his, enticing him, teasing him. Paul’s lips parted and she felt the warmth of his breath as his mouth enveloped hers. It was electric, the single instant when the force of two opposing charges collide, causing a spark that leads to a fire that cannot be contained. Patricia slid her hands from Paul’s chest to his back, pushing her body against his, the desire to become one unbearable. Paul’s mouth slid from her mouth to her cheek; to her neck.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” murmured Patricia, and moaned with pleasure as Paul continued kissing her neck. “I have something to show you.” She grabbed Paul’s hand and turned, leading him to the hall. As they approached Patricia’s bedroom door, Paul stopped and pulled her back.
“I… I don’t think we should do this,” uttered Paul, shaking his head back and forth. “Not right now, I mean.” He stared at Patricia, a torn look on his face.
Patricia looked back and nodded. “I understand. I guess.”
“Believe me, I really want to, and I really want this to work, but,” Paul exhaled, “I need to take care of something first.” With his free hand, Paul gently touched Patricia’s face.
“Okay,” said Patricia, and put her hand on top of Paul’s. “There’s no rush. How about that tea? I think I’ll make some Camomile to calm me down,” she said, and winked.
“I would love to, but I won’t be able to relax until I take care of this… thing…”
“Which you obviously can’t tell me about.”
“I’m sorry. I know this is crazy weird, but I promise I will as soon as it’s done,” said Paul, and turned to leave, but Patricia pulled him back.
“Just promise me you won’t break my heart,” she whispered, then kissed him.
“I promise,” Paul whispered, and reluctantly took a step back. “I’ll call you later tonight.” With that, he let go of her hand, turned, and quickly walked away.
Patricia stood still in the hall until she heard the front door open and close. With a smile, she turned and walked into her bedroom, heading straight for the bathroom. Tea could wait. What she needed now was a soothing shower to calm her nerves and aching body. She flipped on the light and turned on the water, twisting the knob all the way to hot, then walked back to her bedroom and undressed. Her hamper was discreetly tucked between the vanity and the wall. She threw her clothes in and momentarily stared at her cheek in the vanity mirror, the bruise left behind by the cane an ugly mixture of purple, green, and grey. “A hot shower and some makeup should help.”
Almost thirty minutes later, Patricia was in fresh clothes – a flowy dress with a bright, flowery pattern and sandals – and ready for her tea. She walked into the kitchen, filled her electric kettle, turned it on, and smiled at the thought of curling up on the couch with her afghan, enjoying the view outside, and sipping her tea. Almost absent mindedly, she reached above the stove and took a peppermint teabag from a box inside the cabinet and walked to the counter. Her favorite mug, practically a replica of the one she had at the office, sat where she always kept it, ready for use. Suddenly, Patricia froze.
“What the hell?” she exclaimed in shock, her eyes riveted on the two prescription bottles sitting side-by-side beside her mug. Her hand shot out and grasped the one closest to her, turning it over to see the label. Patricia Fowler – Ambien C-IV 10mg – 30 Tabs – Each Tablet Contains: Zolpidem Tartrate 10mg – Take one tablet at bedtime for 30 days – Avoid alcohol while taking this product. May cause drowsiness or dizziness. CAUTION: Federal law prohibits the transfer of this drug to any person other than to whom it was prescribed. Call your doctor for medical advice about side effects.
Patricia smacked the Ambien down on the counter and picked up the other bottle, her eyes round in shock as she read its label. Patricia Fowler – Zoloft 50mg – 30 Tabs – Each Tablet Contains: Sertraline Hcl. 50mg – Take one tablet at bedtime for 30 days – Avoid alcohol while taking this product…
Patricia, her hand shaking, put the bottle down and grabbed her forehead. “I don’t understand. What the hell is this?” she whispered to herself. “Where did these come from?” She picked up the Ambien again, twisted the top off, and emptied its contents on the counter. She started counting the pills, putting them one-by-one back into the bottle, but her fingers were shaking too much to continue. “Oh my God, I can’t do this,” she cried, and placed her hand over her mouth, tears welling her eyes. “Relax, Tricia, relax,” she coaxed herself. “Remember your Yoga.” Patricia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and held it for a few seconds. Then, slowly, deliberately, she exhaled and repeated the process a few more times. Finally, when she opened her eyes, her hands were no longer shaking and she looked more in control. She looked down at the pills and resumed counting.
“Twenty-one,” she mumbled. “So supposedly I’ve been taking these for nine days?” The water kettle clicked, but Patricia ignored it and reached for the Zoloft. Suddenly, she screamed in pain, her eyes bulging in panic. The left side of her face where the Joker had struck her felt like it was on fire. She raced to the bathroom in the hall, crashing the door open against the wall, and flipped on the light. She screamed again, this time not because of the pain, but because of what she saw in the mirror. There, standing, screaming, every emotion and motion reflected perfectly, was her disfigured image. The left side of her face looked like it had melted, the skin sagging, almost dripping. Her left eye drooped at an angle, her lower eyelid pulled down as if on a hook, and her cheek and lip were stretched down past her chin.
Patricia grabbed her face and continued screaming hysterically, terror ripping at her very core. Then, suddenly, there was dead silence. Patricia stared at her figure in the mirror, her mouth wide open in astonishment, as she slowly moved her hand away from her face. Standing there, staring back at her, was her perfectly usual self.
Paul pulled into the garage and sighed with relief. “Thank God the goddamned lights are working.” Cautiously, his head snapping from side to side, he got out of the car and headed towards the door leading to the atrium. As usual, he was heading straight to the kitchen for a beer. This time, however, it wasn’t the relaxing drink after a fulfilling day at work, but a remedy to calm his nerves before confronting Wendy. Quickly, he made his way past the pool and into the kitchen. He turned on the light and jumped back with a start. Samantha, her elbows on the black, granite counter, chin resting on her intertwined fingers, was sitting on a stool behind the counter directly facing the door. She didn’t look angry or threatening, simply amused.
“So, you finally decided to come home. How considerate of you,” she said, her tone calm, almost bored.
“What the hell, Wendy! You scared the crap out of me. What is it with you these days?” Paul said, and walked to the counter. “You never cared when I came or left before, and honestly, I prefer it that way.”
Samantha’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a half smile. “Dear, dear. Paul doesn’t like the new Wendy. Well, it’s not up to him now, is it? I tried to be nice the other night in the garage, give you a chance to change, to work things out in a mutually beneficial way, but I guess I need to be more direct.”
“More direct? How much more direct can you get? You think I don’t know it was you who hired that goon at the restaurant to attack us? What the hell were you thinking? You almost got us killed!” shouted Paul, and slammed his hand on the counter. “We had a deal, in writing, remember? And you can’t just break it because you’ve decided you want me as your pet. I swear, if you don’t leave us alone I’ll—”
“You’ll what, Paul? Go to the police?” said Samantha. Slowly, she slid off the stool and stood. “You have everything you’ve ever wanted because of me… status, money, and most importantly, me. Don’t fuck it up.”
; Paul stared at Samantha for a moment and started laughing. “You? What would I want to do with you? If having this,” he said, and motioned around him with his arms, “comes with you attached, then forget it. I want a full, fucking refund!”
For a split-second, Samantha’s eyes flashed red. She raised her hand, palm out, and thrust it in Paul’s direction. Paul flew through the air and crashed against the opposite wall, the air knocked out of him. Samantha giggled, but kept her finger pointed at Paul who groaned in pain, pinned tightly against the wall by an invisible force. He slowly lifted his head and blinked, his eyes out of focus.
“What can I say? Love and hate are only a hair apart. Now, how can we solve this little conundrum? You have to stop gallivanting about with this new, high paid secretary of yours. I need to have you want me, and love me, like you did before.” With her finger still pointing at Paul, Samantha leaned against the counter.
“Wha… what are you talking about? I never loved you. I don’t even really know you.” Paul shook his head, his mind still hazy from the blow, and tried to move his arm. It wouldn’t budge. “What did you do to me? How are you doing this?”
“So many questions… and I can do a lot more than this! For example, like visit your little friend as the Joker and have a little fun date. I even gave her a whiff of my very special potion. Ooh, is that going to make her trip or what? I wish I was there to see it,” said Samantha with a wicked smile. “But next time, she won’t get off that easy, unless you stop acting like such a horny teenager. Come on, we had a lot of good times together. Remember?” Samantha scrunched up her nose and winked.
“I… I don’t understand. We were never together. This whole thing is a mistake.” Paul strained against the force holding him against the wall, but it was useless, he was no match for it. “Wendy, for God’s sake, what’s going on?”
Samantha drummed her fingers on the counter and frowned. “You did love me, Paul. Trust me, you did. But you’re right, none of this makes any sense to you like this. You need to see more.” Samantha looked at the microwave’s red, digital clock. It was 8:15 p.m. With her eyes still on the clock, she mumbled under her breath, “This is not what I planned, but… Jane should be long gone by now anyway, and Wendy is drugged up to wazoo for the night, so…” Samantha nodded to herself and turned to Paul. “I guess there’s no harm in letting you in on a small secret. You won’t remember any of this anyway. Well, actually, you’ll sort of remember what I want you to remember, like a distant memory.” With her free hand, Samantha removed the Hope Diamond necklace from around her neck. Immediately, her body started to morph into herself, and within seconds Wendy was gone. Samantha stood there, her eyes sparkling. “What do you think?”
Paul stared, his mouth open, speechless.
“Oh come on, I know this is shocking, but aren’t you excited to see me? We can resume from where we left off!” Samantha lowered her head and said in an almost whisper, “I loved you. Didn’t you love me even a little?”
Paul slowly closed and opened his eyes. “I don’t understand how this is possible. Is this a trick? Like a magic show or something?”
“No! It’s me, Samantha!” exclaimed Samantha, and took a few steps towards Paul. Slowly, she started to lower her arm, almost releasing Paul from her hold. “Look at me, don’t you see?” Unconsciously, she scrunched up her nose again.
“It’s you… but how? Wendy and I had you…” Paul stopped, and with great effort lifted his hand, holding it up in front of him, pleading. “You were out of control… we were just trying to help you—”
“Help me?” screeched Samantha. “Help me by sticking me into a padded cell, strapped to a bed like a lunatic, and drugged to the point that I didn’t even recognize myself?” She lifted her hand again and Paul’s arm slammed against the wall. Samantha gritted her teeth and moved her hand slowly forward, increasing the force.
“Sa… man… tha… please…” Paul gasped, as the pressure on his chest reached a point where he could barely breathe.
“I was too naïve. Too trusting, and you took advantage of me. Not this time. This time I’m in control and that bitch, Wendy, is done… can you guess where she is?” said Samantha, and exploded into laughter.
Paul’s eyes were red, bulging out from the pressure. “I… can’t…”
“Oh, stop being such a baby. This won’t kill you… just make you more impressionable. But I do have to admit that it’s my first time, so bear with me. There’s always a chance that I’ll screw things up.” Samantha snapped her finger and Paul passed out. She moved her hand back and Paul’s breathing immediately normalized. Samantha walked to him and placed her mouth against his ear. “When you wake, you will remember me, like a distant dream of a lost love. And every time you see Wendy, you’ll see me, Samantha, in your mind and yearn for me. Deep inside you will know that you’re mine, that you belong to me. And you will stop seeing that tramp, Patricia, because if you don’t, she will die, remember that.” Samantha paused, a grin on her face. “When you wake, you will forget everything that happened tonight. Everything will be as usual.”
Samantha took a few steps back and put the Hope Diamond necklace back around her neck, transforming into Wendy. Then, with a satisfied look, she snapped her fingers. Paul’s eyes snapped open. “So, wanna beer?” she asked.
Paul looked at her, his eyes confused, then as if coming out of a trance, nodded and said, “Yeah, that would be great. You know, I can’t remember what I was saying.”
Samantha smiled. “You’re just tired. Why don’t you go watch the game? I have to visit a nurse friend of mine, but it shouldn’t take too long. I just realized that I can do a lot more as myself. No limitations, you know what I mean?” she said, passing her fingers over the Hope Diamond. “I know she’s just dying to see me.”
Patricia took a breath of relief and stumbled out of the bathroom into the hall, her ankle throbbing from the excessive exertion. Almost immediately, she stopped, her breath suspended, a form of paralysis sweeping over her. Facing her were distorted and grotesque images of her once beautifully taken landscapes, the ones Paul had admired just days before. Instead of the heartwarming sunset over the blue, calm ocean in Aruba with the white sand and vibrant, green palm trees, what faced her was a dark, ominous sky over an agitated, black body of water, the immaculate sand now millions of tiny, red eyes, the palm trees replaced by dark, jagged reefs reaching skyward. Her picture of a random lake reflecting the bright sky like a mirror, home to a playful family of ducks, and surrounded by a myriad of trees with leaves of all colors that she had taken on some back road last fall in New England was now of sludgy waters engulfed by rotting trees, their leaves black, the family of ducks floating lifelessly, trapped in the decay.
A muffled scream escaped Patricia’s lips as she cupped her mouth. She shut her eyes as tightly as she could and shook her head, her lips parted, her breath erratic. “Oh God! Please make it go away,” she begged, and slowly reopened her eyes. “No!” she screamed, then suddenly stopped, her voice choked in her throat. From the corner of her eye she saw a dark shadow cross the hall towards the front door.
For a second time in less than ten minutes, she ran down the hall, this time back to the living room, past the kitchen, and towards the front door. She stopped in disbelief, not sure if she should be relieved or not, but there was no one there. Her heart beating in a frenzy, Patricia ran back to the living room, grabbed her purse from the couch, glanced at the bottles of pills, and ran to the front door and out of her house. For the first time since she bought her condo, she did not feel welcome, as if a strange and dark spirit had invaded and taken over her space. It didn’t feel like home anymore.
“There! There! The blue house… third one on the left with the lights on,” cried Patricia, practically shouting at the taxi driver.
“Yes, lady! I can hear you very well, you do not need to shout. All this is getting me too excited,” retorted the cab driver in a thick Indian accent. “You should really try to cal
m down. I suggest Yoga for everyone’s benefit.”
“Hurry! Pull over!” said Patricia, ignoring the driver while pulling out a twenty from her purse.
“Yes, yes, of course. Anything for your happiness,” said the cab driver, as he steered the car to the curb and slowed down.
Patricia dropped the twenty dollar bill through the small, open window, and swung open the door even before the car was fully stopped. Immediately, she jumped out, leaving the door open, and ran up the path as fast as she could.
“Lady, I believe you have forgotten your change,” shouted the cab driver after her.
Patricia waved him away and rang the doorbell repeatedly. Without waiting, she started to pound on the door. “Joss! Joss! Please…”
The door flew open, more in anger than urgency, and Jocelyn appeared holding a chocolate covered spatula, her face in a scowl. She was wearing a checkered shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded. Then, as her eyes fell on Patricia, “Oh my God, Patricia, what happened to you? Your face…” Jocelyn stared, her eyes and mouth wide open.
Patricia, her emotional defenses completely drained, crumbled as tears streamed down her face, lips parted and quivering. Jocelyn dropped the spatula, rushed forward, and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her inside. “Come… come sit down.”
Together, Jocelyn’s arm still around Patricia’s back, they walked to the living room. Jocelyn led Patricia to the couch, and they sat down. Suddenly, Patricia turned and stared at Jocelyn, tears continuing to pour down uncontrollably. “My face… it looked horrible… and the pictures…” she blurted in between sobs, her eyes two orbs filled with confusion. “And the pills! There were pills in my kitchen… where the hell did they come from? I’m so scared!”