A Glittering Chaos

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A Glittering Chaos Page 17

by de Nikolits, Lisa


  Jonas is nonplussed. “Do you want me to talk to him?” he asks and Melusine shakes her head.

  “But Aunt Kateri disappeared what, twenty five years ago?”

  “I know, Jonas. Perhaps it’s getting harder for your father as he gets older, not easier. I don’t know why.”

  Her face crumples and she turns away, not wanting to let her son see her cry. She gathers her composure.

  “Let’s get out of the house, she says. “Let’s go for supper, you and me. You can tell me how things are with Nika.”

  His face breaks into a smile. “She’s great. Yes, good idea, Mami, let’s go out. Nika asks after you too, she said you must tell me how your book’s coming along.”

  “Ah, not well,” Melusine says, thinking that she is adding yet another layer of lies to the family’s deceptions. She is close to completing her first draft. The work is simply called Yvonne and Isolde.

  One evening, after a particularly nasty row in the stairwell, Isolde follows Yvonne home and sees her with her boyfriend and her son and it is clear that Yvonne lied; her boyfriend worships the ground she walks on. And what is most devastating of all is that Yvonne looks happy to be with him; she is hanging onto his arm while he carries the boy, and Isolde’s heart is slashed by every one of Yvonne’s smiling glances.

  She had lied. Yvonne had lied. But why? Why would she say she wanted her boyfriend killed when she was so happy with him? And what if Isolde had agreed to do it?

  Isolde follows the family and when they reach a small park, she makes sure that she is in Yvonne’s line of sight. But Yvonne, when she catches sight of her, seems no more taken aback or surprised than if Isolde is a regular in the area. After an initial glance, in which it was perfectly clear that she has seen Isolde, Yvonne behaves as if the other woman is quite invisible.

  Isolde feels as if she has fallen down a rabbit hole. She cannot believe what is happening. What is Yvonne playing at? Can this be the same person that Isolde had met in the stairwell for close to six months, the same person who has let Isolde explore every crease and fold and curve and scar of her body, the same person who arched her back against the cold stairs while Isolde made her come again and again, her tongue buried in Yvonne’s salty wet hotness, her tongue sucking and licking and nibbling Yvonne’s pointy little clitoris.

  Yvonne, who now turns laughingly to her boyfriend, as if Isolde does not exist at all.

  Melusine wondered what Isolde would do next. Would she confront Yvonne the following day? Would she get drunk and high that night and go on a week’s bender, phoning in sick? Would she think about harming Yvonne; shouting at her and demanding an explanation?

  But Isolde, stricken, does none of those things. She is utterly calm. Frozen and nearly numb with calm. She goes home. She has a bath and climbs into bed, swallowing a couple of sleeping pills.

  The following day she gets dressed and goes into work earlier than usual. She needs to be in control of her tiny world, now more than ever.

  She does not acknowledge Yvonne when she comes to deliver the mail. She does not meet her eye when she empties the trash. Isolde’s heart feels strangled and frightened and it is hard to breathe, but she knows that if she can just make it through one day without weakening, that she will be fine.

  She meets Yvonne in the stairwell. Sweat is running down her armpits to the waistband of her trousers. “Why? Just tell me why? You owe me that much, Yvonne. You wanted me to kill a man. Kill him! Please, just explain.”

  Yvonne shrugs. “He’s got lots of money and I’d get it all. It’s true, he’s not a bad guy, not really but I just want more. If I had money, I could get on with my life. I was meant to be a star, not do jobs like this. I only took this job because I was so bored I was going crazy. I don’t even need the money; he takes care of me. He doesn’t understand why I want to do this. He doesn’t understand anything about me.”

  “And for that you wanted me to kill a man?” Isolde is incredulous. “Because you’re bored and you wanted money and a shot at fame. What exactly do you think you’re so talented at apart from being a seductress? Did you ever even feel anything for me? Don’t bother to answer that. It doesn’t matter.”

  Isolde wraps her arms around herself. “You,” she says evenly, “will leave. And I don’t just mean for the day. Do you understand me?”

  Yvonne nods and she starts to say something but Isolde holds up her hand and speaks quietly.

  “Lies come out of your mouth like toads. You could have broken my heart but I’ve seen you for what you are. Leave and don’t come back.”

  Yvonne nods again and leaves the stairwell. Isolde worries for a split second that she will run after the girl and grab her and kiss her and apologize and tell her that she will do anything to make her stay.

  But she doesn’t. She goes back to her desk and puts her head in her hands.

  The novella ends there and Melusine feels as if she has been left hanging. She wants to know what happens to Isolde; does she find love or does she go back to lying on her sofa in the small hours of the morning, smoking hash and watching documentaries about other people’s lives?

  Melusine had, on a whim, printed out the manuscript and sent it to Gunther.

  It’s just a first draft, of the first thing I’ve ever written. I know you’re so busy, only read it if you want to, only if you’ve got time.

  “How is Nika’s writing going?” she asks, wrenching her thoughts away from Isolde and what Gunther might think of the whole thing, and Jonas looks glum.

  “She keeps getting rejected by publishers and agents,” he says. “It’s getting hard for her to keep her faith. I tell her that she’s very young and anyway, it’s a number’s game; that she has to just keep on trying but she’s a bit down in the dumps about it. She’s even thinking of packing it in and becoming a nurse instead.”

  “That’s quite a big switch,” Melusine says. “Perhaps she should give herself more time and then see?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. The thing is, Mami, if we’re ever going to get married and have children, she’ll need to be able to earn a living and being a writer or even a journalist isn’t financially the best bet.”

  Melusine ruffles her son’s hair. “Finances, marriage and babies? Aren’t you a bit young for all of that?”

  By now they are seated in a McDonald’s that never fails to remind Melusine of Gunther and the photographs he took that day. She wonders what happened to those images. She reminds herself to ask Gunther in her next letter.

  Jonas looks stubborn. “We’re just talking about it. Okay, so my first year at university was a washout but I learned what I really want to be.”

  “And that is?”

  “A lawyer. I’m going to switch my major next semester, I’ve already talked to all the professors about carrying over the credits that I can.”

  “Jonas! I’m so proud of you,” Melusine says, grinning. “What an impressive young man you are. You know, not so long ago I was worried you would turn into a pothead and not do anything with your life.”

  He blushes. “Ah, so you knew about that?”

  Melusine laughs. “It was hard to miss. I just hoped you’d grow out of it and you did.”

  “Maybe Papa will grow out of whatever he’s going through,” Jonas says, taking a large bite of his hamburger. “I guess we should be very grateful he’s not out buying sports cars and having young mistresses.”

  Melusine thinks about the money draining out of their account and into Healing Lives Ministries and she thinks she would have preferred a sports car. “I’ve got no idea what to think,” she says. “It’s like he’s a ghost of the man I knew.”

  They finish eating and say goodbye. Melusine watches Jonas walk towards the bus stop and she is grateful that at least his life is turning out well. Her husband might be falling apart but her son is rallying.

  She sighs and starts the car. She turns towards Dornburge to see if there is anything from Gunther. She has a feeling in her gut tha
t he is seeing a woman in New York and she dreads having him confirm it. She thinks he must have been with other women since Vegas but she has held out the crazy hope that if there were to be any new significant other in his life, that the role would be filled by her. Although how that would work out, practically speaking, she has no idea.

  She opens the post office box with trepidation and finds a bulky envelope but she does not open it. She puts it in her handbag and drives home to find that Hans has passed out in his chair, his wine bottle empty next to him.

  She has noticed that his previously expensive and rare wines have made way for greater numbers of a cheaper variety. He is drinking much more than she has ever known him to but she cannot say anything to him; he’s unreachable.

  She knows he is still paying Healing Lives Ministries a hefty monthly fee and she wonders if this is why he is cutting back on his expensive wines or if he simply wants to drink more.

  She goes to her room and shuts the door.

  She opens the letter from Gunther and half a dozen black and white photographs fall out.

  Certain that these are images of his new lover, Melusine lets them fall to the floor and she unfolds the letter. She’s convinced that he’s writing to tell her about his new love and her stomach feels as painful as if she’s swallowed shards of glass. She closes her eyes for a moment, wanting to put off the bad news.

  His handwriting, as ever, is bold and wild and his pen digs deep into the paper.

  She reads the letter.

  I have great news! Well, I think it’s great. You might be very angry with me, Melu and if you are, I understand. I do. Remember the shoot we did? Here’s the thing, the Museum of Modern Art in New York wants to give me a solo show! Solo!

  She bends down and picks the images up off the floor. The prints are all of her; they are the photographs he took in the old McDonald’s and she looks incredible, so vital, so alive.

  Melusine laughs out loud. She is now an international nude model. The thought fills her with glee and she wonders how she will explain this to Jonas.

  I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I so badly wanted to make my mark with this work. It’s the best stuff I’ve ever done and I was so afraid you’d say no to my submitting it and I gave you my word that no one would ever see these except for you and me. But when I saw them, I realized how great they were and so I did a very wrong thing and I apologize. It was selfish of me. Can you forgive me, Melu? And if you do give us the go ahead, will you come to New York to the opening with me? Please say you will. And if you don’t want these to be shown, just let me know, it’s completely up to you. I’ll be happy just knowing they loved my work enough to want to show it. Of course, showing it would be fantastic!

  PS: I got your manuscript yesterday, I can’t wait to read it! Thank you for sharing it with me. I’ll read it as soon as I can.

  PS#2: Please forgive me, Melu.

  Forgive him? Once again he is the sunshine in a dark time of her life.

  She writes back immediately. There is nothing to forgive. Oh, how I wish I could be there for the opening. But things are such a mess here. Hans is getting worse by the day.

  She has already told Gunther about the cult and how Hans is spending all the money he can on them, and she told him about their now-separate bedrooms and Gunther’s response was sympathy but not surprise.

  She continues with her letter. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Hans. I feel like it’s going to end badly but I don’t know how. He ends up drunk most evenings, and he is skin and bone, he’s so thin. I’ve got no idea how he’s even coping at work. When I met him, he was so golden. And now, he’s turned to ash.

  Oh Gunther, I’m so happy for you about the gallery. I’m happy for me too! Of course you must show them, use my letter as approval if they want to see it in writing.

  She seals the envelope and gets ready for bed. She is filled with a warm joy. There is no other woman — yet. There is no other lover — yet. She is the one who has taken him to New York; she is the one going with him to New York even if not in person. She will always have that place in his life and he, in hers.

  She turns off her light and goes to sleep.

  24.

  HANS WAKES from his intoxicated slumber and stumbles to the bathroom. He fumbles with his penis and stands swaying, waiting for the urine to flow.

  He holds his sad member in one hand and clutches his already-aching head with the other.

  He cannot stop the dreams. They come to him every night and he cannot escape them.

  Juditha is no help. She insists every day that Kateri is coming closer and closer and that the dreams mean that her presence is being made stronger. Juditha is certain that Kateri is alive and well and that it is only a matter of time before they know where she is.

  But Hans knows otherwise.

  Since Melusine moved out of their bedroom and he could no longer make love to her or rub her feet, or lie in bed with her and pretend he is next to Kateri, he has been bereft and increasingly broken.

  Lying there, in their large bed, alone, he has grown afraid of the darkness and afraid of the memories that assail him. And no matter how much he drinks, the visions are getting stronger and stronger, like poltergeists wanting to take possession of his brain.

  He has implored Juditha to help him. Her repeated reply is for him to trust her and for him to get healthy again. She says he must mend things with his wife and that he must stop drinking.

  Well, he cannot fix the problems between him and Melusine and he told Juditha that in their most recent phone call earlier that day.

  “She thinks you’re taking all our money,” he said thickly. “She hates you.”

  “She doesn’t even know me,” Juditha said. “How can she hate me? Hans, you’ve never actually given her details about me, have you?”

  “Of course not. She only knows of a setup called Healing Lives Ministries. She’s tried to trace you, trust me, she has but she can’t find a thing.”

  “Good.” Juditha sounds relieved. “Hans, why don’t you get a new bank account from which to pay me and tell her you’ve ended it with me? I don’t believe in lying but you’re getting ill from all this and I’m just trying to help you.”

  “I cannot get another bank account Juditha, because I do not have any money left. All I have is the money I earn every month and you are taking all of that. And she knows it. And she would know whether it was our joint account or one of my own.”

  “I’m working very hard for what you pay me, Hans,” Juditha says and she sounds indignant and upset. “I spend all my time on you. Meditating, doing exercises with the clothing, reaching out to the Higher Masters. It’s the most intense work I’ve ever done with anyone. And it’s very exhausting. I’m not saying I don’t want to do it, of course I do, it’s my calling but please, don’t think it’s easy.”

  “Easy or not Juditha,” he says tiredly, “I’m nearly out of money. I can’t go on much longer.”

  “Can’t you take out a second mortgage on your house?”

  “No, I can’t. The house and all assets are in Melusine’s name.” He thinks for a moment. “I can sell my car. Yes, I can do that. But Juditha, you must listen to me. You must take my dreams seriously. I keep telling you about them but you won’t hear me. Please, hear me. I need your help now.”

  “You dream that Kateri is dead. But you’ve been dreaming that for years, Hans. That’s not new.”

  “But Juditha, I don’t just dream that she’s dead. I keep telling you, I dream that I killed her, that I was the one who killed her.” His voice is a shriek and he doesn’t care if the outer office receptionist hears him.

  “I killed her,” he says again. “I killed her. The dream comes to me every night. It has been coming slowly but increasingly since Melusine left me. I cannot stand to be alone in that bed at night. I know I am drinking too much but it is the only way to try to shut out that terrible image that won’t leave me alone.”

  “But Hans, I now
know that Kateri is alive. I keep telling you that. What’s happening is that the reality of your being able to really see your sister in this lifetime is unsettling all the notions of her death that you’ve come to accept. Your brain and your heart can’t accept this living Kateri because it means a huge change and your ego doesn’t want anything to change. Your ego finds comfort in your established hunger for missing Kateri. And you need to accept that it’s the fear of change that’s driving all these demons to haunt you in the night. The demons are manifestations of your ego’s banshee protest because it’s so afraid of your becoming whole and healed.”

  “No,” Hans is adamant. “I killed her. I know I did. I see it every night. At first the dreams only hinted at it but in the last few nights, I see how it happened. We were in the tree house and we were lying down, with our bodies close together like always. And I wanted that moment to last forever. I loved her too much to lose her to the next moment, because in that next moment lay the possibility that she would leave me. Because I knew that she would leave me sooner or later. So I put my hands on her throat and I kissed her while she died; I pressed my face right up against hers while I strangled her. I smothered her mouth with mine and I crushed her neck.”

  “And then what happened, Hans?” Juditha is pragmatic. “What did you do with her body? And how is it that they never found her?”

  “I haven’t seen that part yet,” Hans says. “All I have seen, in slow developments every night, is me, killing her. I’m a monster. A monster.”

  “When was the last time you masturbated?”

  “This morning of course. But it’s getting harder to orgasm. I can’t concentrate because all I can feel is my sister’s dying tongue against mine while I killed her.”

  “And when last did you make love to Melusine?”

  He thinks hard. “Um, just before she found out there was no conference. Actually the sex between us had been improving a bit. But then she moved to Jonas’s room.”

  “And her feet? When last did you rub her feet?” Juditha knows all about Hans’s continued connection to his sister via Melusine’s feet.

 

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