A Pact For Life

by Elliot, Graham

  Confused, Cale turned to find spiky hair, orange skin, lots of jewelry, and the kind of puffed out aggression typically found in small dogs. Upon remembering this man, Cale smiled wide, twisted his wrist free, finished his drink, and asked, “Outside?”

  “I'm gonna kill you,” The guy barked.

  Cale laughed at the threat, stood up, and walked out. He shuffled past the herd of smokers in front of the bar door, and bounded for an alleyway a block from the bar. Shortly thereafter, the orange man followed, and behind him, three of his friends.

  Trusting that his opponent was behind him, Cale said out loud, “Thanks for showing up tonight. I've got some frust...”

  Despite getting blindsided by the same man some nine months earlier, Cale didn't remember to watch out for cheap shots. The man's push made Cale stumble forward, and he turned around to find two of the orange man's friends charging. Quickly, he put up his fists, and wondered if anyone fought honorably anymore.

  When the first man reached him, Cale put everything he had into one punch, dropping the guy while at the same time rebreaking a few bones in his right hand. There was no time to deflect the other man's charge as he grabbed Cale around the waist and brought him down. On the ground, Cale tried to break free from the man's grip with little success as the orange man and another friend came running over to get a piece of the action.

  There was nothing Cale could do but deflect each punch as best as he could. Luckily, he was drunk enough that each successful punch or slap was toned down a tad, but they still stung like all holy hell.

  And just like before, each successful punch seemed to take away the problems in Cale's life. His art, Diana, God, and the baby grew diminished as his focus shifted to the physical pain.

  “What did I say mother-fucker!” The orange man screamed. “I told you I would kill you if I ever saw you again!”

  He reached behind his back and pulled out a handgun. Solid black, it was a SIG P226, a weapon commonly referred to as a hand cannon. When fired, it would do more than just penetrate, it would utterly destroy.

  From several feet away, the orange man stood with the gun pointed at Cale. The sight made Cale close his eyes and accept his fate. His life had been nothing but failure and disappointment. It was time to finally end things and go to a place better than being alive.

  God help the man who gives up living.

  The orange man took a visible swallow and walked forward till he was able to place the gun in Cale's mouth. With the barrel firmly in the back of his throat, that whole accepting fate thing immediately dissolved into terror.

  A fact: There is no possible way to convey in words what it's like to have a loaded gun in your mouth. A person can write page after page after page about every miniscule, graphic, and sensory facet of this act, and it still wouldn't come close to reality. The only men who are able to handle a loaded gun in their mouths are the truly insane. Even the bravest falter.

  As Cale lied there shaking in fear, a simple prayer started to repeat in his head.

  Don't let me leave her.

  Don't let me leave her.

  The her was his daughter. The her was Diana. The her was life in all its sad, ecstatic, fearful, lovely, 'cry till you can't cry any harder', 'scream till you can't scream any louder' glory.

  Don't let me leave her.

  The orange man's hand was trembling as he held the gun in Cale's mouth. At this point, he had to pull the trigger. There was no backing out for an ego of this caliber.

  Don't let me leave her.

  “Stop!!!” Shouted a voice. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a pale girl with wispy white-blond hair and raccoon-like eyes ran over, grabbed the gun, and pulled it out of Cale's mouth. With tears in her eyes, she cried to the orange man, “Please don't do this! Please!”

  Lying on top of Cale, she whispered, “Stay down champion, stay down,” which made Cale open his eyes to find a woman protecting him. He blinked three times, and then it happened.

  Like a dam exploding and water gushing out, it happened.

  Like a scream after jumping out of an airplane, it happened.

  Like a supernova equal to the power of trillions upon trillions of nuclear bombs, it happened.

  The first was the relieved looking woman extending a hand.

  The second was a smiling little girl on her dad's shoulders.

  The third was a man in a suit picking up a woman in a flowing dress by her waist.

  And they kept coming. And coming. And coming.

  He had inspiration.

  Speechless, Cale stood up and wiped the blood away from his eyes. He gave a quick, but heartfelt nod to the pale, wispy haired woman, and from there he sprinted home destined to create.

  The orange man, his three perplexed friends, and the woman exited from the alley to watch Cale race down the street. After he disappeared from view, they heard a loud, “Whoooooo!” come from the distance.

  The woman dug into her pockets and pulled out a pack of Pall Malls. As she lit a cigarette, she said to the men, “Just for the record fellas, he saved himself.”

  THE LONELY RED HEAD II

  The Diana Young Pregnancy Update

  Estimated weeks till delivery: 3

  Shape of stomach: Rotund enough that every person she passed gave the, “She's ready to burst” comment.

  Food Craving: An Advil.

  Mood: Embarrassed.

  Alone in a dressing room, Diana looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. She was clad in a striped neon pink and black bridesmaid's dress that gave the illusion she was much larger than she actually was. She pleaded with Caitlyn not to make her 'that'52 bridesmaid, but her sister wasn't having any of it. The argument of 'It's my day!' trumped, 'I'm pregnant!'

  Her phone began to vibrate, and the caller ID showed Andrew. As she caught herself in the mirror, she answered, “Hey, are you on your way to the church?”

  But Andrew wasn't in his car, he was in his office. “Diana, I have some bad news. They need me in surgery in ten minutes. I'm sorry, I was halfway into my suit when I got the word about this emergency transplant.”

  Diana responded with a statement, not a question. “Wait, what!? The wedding is in an hour and a half.”

  “I can't get out of this surgery, Diana.”

  Lately, most of Andrew's sentences began, I can't get out of this _______. It was something Diana decided to call him on. “When was the last time we saw each other?”

  “What are you talking about? I was with you last night.”

  “You sliding into bed at midnight and then sleeping while I leave in the morning doesn't count. I mean when was the last time we had dinner together? Or went out? Or did anything that wasn't sex or sleep?”

  In the mirror, a clown of a woman stared at Diana. “What am I going to do, Andrew? It's bad enough that I have to be the pregnant bridesmaid. I can't add dateless to that as well.”

  “Diana, if there was anything I could do... why don't you invite Jenny, or hey, how about my brother? He'd be a great date.”

  “Andrew, I'm pregnant.”

  “I'm sorry Diana, but I have to save a life.”

  With losses to, 'It's my day!' and now, 'I have to save a life,' it was a bad day to use, 'I'm pregnant!' to get what you wanted.

  “Diana, I know I haven't been around much lately, I've just been so busy. It will get better, I promise.”

  “No, it won't.”

  “I have some vacation...”

  Diana's sad, lonely reflection implored her to ask, “Can't you see it, Andrew?”

  Defeated, Andrew responded, “Yes.”

  Throughout the course of Diana and Andrew's relationship, they had this uncanny ability to match speech. That is, to say the same thing at the same time. It made their relationship feel right, special, and all those other heartfelt, supernatural, warm-the-heart things. That's why it was so bittersweet when they both said at once, “So I guess this is the end?”

  Continuing their synchronized speech, they laugh
ed. The short, polite laughter that purposefully focuses on the phenomenon (synchronized breakup requests) rather than the message (breaking up).

  In order to stop the synced speech, Diana stayed silent and waited for Andrew to speak. It was clear by the three second pause that he had the same idea.

  Eventually, he spoke. “Dammit, I really thought this would work.”

  Not wanting to think about that, Diana said, “I can't believe your ex-wife was right

  “She was? About what?”

  “Right before the settlement, she told me your work will always come first.”

  Diana couldn't see it, but Andrew was nodding on the other end of the line. “It's funny. I've always believed I could have everything. You know, the job, the looks, the family, and everything else. I wanted to be great.”

  “Me too.” Diana admitted.

  There was no point for either of them to continue the conversation, and they both knew it.

  “If you ever need anything, Diana...” Andrew said. He was too smart of a guy to use the 'can we still be friends' question.

  “Same for you, Andrew.”

  At the same time, they said bye.

  It was the logical conclusion of the Professional Relationship of Professionals. A mutually agreed upon breakup. Naturally, Diana was sad, but the reflection in the mirror stopped her from crying. It was bad enough she was now the dateless, pregnant bridesmaid. There was no reason to add puffy eyed and smeared makeup to the list.

  There were neon pink drapes next to a stained glass saint. A zebra print carpet running between rows of dark oak pews. Wedding programs featuring a puffed up love story where the bibles were usually placed. Instead of an organ and choir, there was a DJ with a fetish for mmns and tssts. It was Caitlyn Young's wedding, sanctity be damned.

  Following the breakup, Diana started a mad scramble to try and find a date. A quick browse through her phone contacts led to two possible candidates, Jenny or Cale. After some thought, she decided she didn't want to call Cale and tell him about the breakup or explain the reason why she needed a date. It wasn't fair to put him through that, nor did she want him to think of himself as a backup plan. She had already done enough damage to his life, he didn't deserve any more pain. So that left Jenny as the lucky recipient of Diana's frantic phone call.

  “Alright, Diana! You're up!” Shouted one of Caitlyn's friends who was playing the role of wedding coordinator.

  Defeated, Diana put her arm through the elbow of her counterpart on the groom's side, and shuffled down the aisle as the DJ changed the music from tssts to a more traditional harp and piano. She received a thumbs up from Jenny while her family gave appreciatory nods for being a bridesmaid at another wedding. They knew Caitlyn well enough to know wedding #3 would likely be followed by divorce #3.

  At the altar, Diana joined Jimmy and the other groomsmen. They were dressed in all white tuxedos clearly in some desire to look like a mid-90's R&B group. Too bad it was about fifteen years too late for this look to be anything but awkward.

  Finally, that familiar music started to play, and down the aisle came Caitlyn in an altered wedding dress fit for a princess... of strip clubs. It was extremely tight and had enough cleavage that every boy between the ages of twelve through sixteen would never forget that day for the rest of their lives.

  Next to Caitlyn, Benjamin Young looked about as thrilled as one can be while walking their child down the aisle for the third time.

  As everyone took their seats, Diana felt like she was on a pillar. All eyes were focused on her because they knew what a laughable sight she had become. Pregnant with no ring and a female coworker as a date. With those two things, Diana assumed everyone either thought she was a slut, a lesbian, an all-around train-wreck, or all three combined. A slutty, lesbian, train-wreck.

  To summarize her thoughts regarding the ceremony: I hope the vows are quick.

  The reverend opened with talk of everlasting love, children of Jesus, and how they were there to make two become one. Diana scoffed at his remarks. The more she stood there and listened to such bullshit proclamations, the more she became relieved that she wasn't likely to ever get married. The whole thing was such a hollow act of love.

  Having two toothbrushes in one holder. Now that was love.

  Jimmy said his vows first. “Caitlyn, I know we don't have that much in common, but we love each other so there's that. You're hot, and funny,” Diana saw Caitlyn's jaw moving. She was mouthing the words to Jimmy. “And smart. I'll love you forever.”

  The vows caused half the crowd to exchange puzzled glances while the other half were too stoned, drunk, senile, young, or bored to pay attention. However, Diana thought they were great. They were quick, and more importantly, they drew all of the crowd's attention to Jimmy.

  Her sister's vows however...

  “James, let me fill your heart with joy and laughter. Togetherness is all I'm after. Whenever you need me, I'll be there.”

  Diana rolled her eyes as Caitlyn drew a breath and continued on. She was going to do the whole goddamn song. There would be no quick ceremony. Not when $25,000 worth of everlasting love were involved.

  “So have you thought of a name for the baby?” Some distant cousin of Diana asked.

  “I have a few picked out, but nothing definite,” Diana said as she brushed her hair behind her ear. It was a prearranged distress signal to Jenny. Over the course of the reception, it was the third time she sent out this silent request for help.

  “Oh that is so exciting! Can you share them?”

  Right on cue, Jenny appeared and interrupted the conversation. “Diana, your mom needs you outside.”

  “I'm sorry...” Diana paused as she tried to remember her cousin's name. It never came, so Diana closed with, “It was good to see you.”

  It was a mild June night in Denver. Dry and warm, but not stifling. The kind of weather that's ideal for dresses, which if you actually think about it, is a win for everyone. Diana and Jenny appeared to be the only ones on a patio outside the banquet hall. Everyone else had either gone home or were still inside partying.

  “Thanks for rescuing me again, Jenny. I hope that's the last time tonight.”

  “That conversation was that bad?”

  Diana shook her head and said, “The only thing people want to talk about is the baby or my dating life. They are trying to figure out the story of why I'm pregnant and single. I hate this, Jenny. I want to talk about work. At least then I'll be talking about something I'm good at.”

  Following Diana spiel, Jenny laughed.

  “What's so funny?”

  “Diana, do you remember the party for when you made partner?”

  “Yeah, what does that have to do with this?”

  “You were devastated because people only wanted to talk about work. Back then, you would've done anything to talk about family or dating.”

  “Oh c'mon, I was drunk.”

  Diana didn't see the big picture, so Jenny decided to help her. “Don't use the drunk excuse. There's something to this that you shouldn't dismiss. Look at how much you've added to your life in only a year. For one, you have a daughter now. Think about that for a second.”

  Diana answered, “I never planned for things to go this way. Look at me, Jenny. I've ruined every meaningful relationship, God only knows how bad of a mother I'm gonna be... Cale was right all along, I should've gone with adoption. Actually, there's still time. Do you think I should do that?”

  Jenny lied, “I don't have an opinion either way. That's something you have to decide for yourself.” She looked down at her watch. “It's getting pretty late, Diana, I think I'm gonna head home.”

  “I'm leaving too. Just gotta go say goodbye to everyone.”

  “Alright, I guess I'll see you Monday then.” Jenny gave Diana a hug and said, “I have faith things are gonna be alright.”

  Diana heard this as nothing more than a standard response to the situation. It's like saying, “Nice to meet you,” after shaking some
one's hand. Nothing but empty, meaningless words.

  With Jenny gone, Diana stood outside the banquet door and listened to the screams, shouts, and market-tested, purely radio driven choruses coming from inside. She stepped back from the door and walked over to a railing to ponder the issue of adoption.

  At the heart of the adoption debate was one crucial factor - Diana's inability to keep a relationship. The breakup with Andrew proved she was not cut out for relationships. Like him, she was in love with her job, and there was no room for anyone else.

  Then again, she did love her daughter...

  “Is it still bad in there?” A soft voice asked from behind Diana.

  She turned around and found her brother Jack sitting by himself.

  “Hmmm... Is it still bad in there?” Diana asked out loud as she heard the mmn, tsst, mmn, tsst come from inside the reception. “For us, yeah, it's still bad. Caitlyn on the other hand...”

  Diana looked down at a spread of cocktail napkins on the table in front of her brother. There were pencil sketches on each one. Some were of the wedding and some were of the reception, but one that caught Diana's eye had nothing to do with anything related to the wedding. It was of a couple walking down the street hand in hand. There were no details given to the man and woman. Just two black silhouettes against a pencil gray street, gray trees, and gray sky.

  “What is this one about?” Diana asked her brother.

  “I'm not sure, it just popped in my head while I was drawing this one about Caitlyn and Jimmy.”

  Jack gave Diana another one that featured Caitlyn doing a shot with Jimmy. It was nowhere near as romantic as the silhouetted couple, but then again, things always seem a bit more romantic when they lack details.

  Diana focused once again on the silhouetted couple and asked, “Can I have this one?” Jack nodded. “This looks like something Cale would do.”

  “Really, you think so!?”

  “Sure. I'll show it to him the next time I see him.”

  Diana wasn't sure when the next time she would see Cale, or if she would even remember to bring that napkin, but the hopeful look in her brother's eyes forced her to lie.