Chihuahua Karma

by Rice, Debby

  The revolving door was the wormhole that spewed us from the festive brilliance of Planet Macy’s to the deserted street. The snow had stopped, and the temperature had dropped into single digits. The wind, bitter and icy from its journey across Lake Michigan, swooped down State Street with a force that made it difficult for Charmaine and Lucille to walk. I kept my head buried in the bag.

  “Lucille, do you see a taxi anywhere?”

  “No Charmaine.”

  “Do you think we should try to call one?”

  “I doubt that anyone would come. Charmaine, you don’t have boots on.”

  “No, I wanted to look nice for Santa. So I wore my Jimmy Choos. Silly me. He definitely was not worth it.”

  “You must be really cold. These boots are pretty warm. I could give you my socks.”

  “Thank you, Lucille. That’s very nice, but I’m sure we’ll find a cab soon.”

  “I don’t know. It looks like we might have to walk home.”

  “I certainly hope not. We’ll be frozen by the time we get there. This wind is horrible.”

  The three of us trudged on. My paws and tail were numb. We walked in silence, leaning against the wind.

  “Why don’t you call Larry to come and get us?”

  “Lucille, please tell me you are kidding. I would rather have him find us lying frozen dead in the middle of the street.”

  “It was just a thought. Maybe you could call Darien. I can’t feel my fingers.”

  “I didn’t take his number. Let’s stop in this doorway. I really would like to try wearing your socks. Suggie, how are you doing?” Charmaine opened the bag, and a blast of cold air stiffened the fur on my head. I whimpered. She set the bag down on the sidewalk, and cold seeped through the seams and made me shiver.

  “Here you go.” Lucille handed her socks to Charmaine.

  “My hands are so numb. It’s hard to do anything. This wind is awful. Okay, great. The shoes fit over them. Let’s get moving. Oh, my God. Look, Lucille. Look. Isn’t that the truck from the Lucky Dream double parked-up the street? Hurry, let’s see if we can get a ride. You run ahead. I can’t go very fast in these shoes.”

  I heard Lucille’s boots slapping against the pavement. Charmaine ducked into a doorway. After a few minutes there was the sound of a vehicle stopping by the curb. The door opened, and Charmaine climbed in. She lifted me out of the bag and put me inside her coat.

  “Thank goodness we saw you. We would have frozen to death. Are you old enough to drive? Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter.”

  “I just got my learner’s permit. Dad didn’t come home to make the deliveries, so Mom sent me out.” Edmund was leaning forward so that his face was almost touching the windshield. His hands were fastened to the wheel, and his knuckles were white.

  “Magnus rescued us,” said Lucille, who was sitting beside Edmund in the front seat.

  “Suggie, let’s warm you up, girl. You’re shivering like a leaf.” Charmaine rubbed my back. “What is Magnus? Is that some kind of a nickname?”

  “It’s not a nickname,” said Edmund.

  “Don’t get touchy, honey. I was just asking.”

  “I’ve got a couple of deliveries in your building, so I’ll drop you right at the door.”

  “Suggie Woogie girl, he’s going to drop us at the door. Isn’t that wonderful? No more walking in the cold.”

  “Say ‘thank you’ to Magnus, Charmaine.”

  “Well, of course I’ll say thank you. I thought I already did.”

  “Actually you didn’t,” said Lucille.

  “I was certainly going to. There’s no need to speak to me like that.

  Firefly and Magnus were silent.

  The truck pulled up in front of our building. Charmaine jumped out with me still under her coat.

  “Hey, Ladies. I been worried about you. You all okay? This is some nasty weather,” said Darien. “It’s way too cold for my Miss Sugar to be out and about. She should be home sittin’ on her little bed by the fire, sippin’ her eggnog.”

  “We’re fine, Darien. But our visit to Santa was not at all what we expected.”

  Darien, unable to find the proper response, said nothing.

  “Lucille, what are you doing in the truck? Come on. Come on, Suggie. I don’t know why she’s stalling. Let’s get upstairs.”

  Darien held the door open. Winter vanished as if we had deplaned in Cancún.

  “Ah, that’s fantastic,” said Charmaine.

  Chapter 25

  “So as through a glass and darkly, the age long strife I see, where I fought in many guises, many names, but always me.”

  Albert Schweitzer

  Despite shining more brightly than Macy’s Christmas tree, Charmaine’s arrival at the party was not an entrance. Six thousand dollars’ worth of Swarovski crystals hand-stitched to a floor-length, flesh-colored bodysuit went unnoticed. I, too, was encased in crystal mesh. A tiny tiara was secured on my head by wires tied around my ears. Each paw was encircled by a miniature crystal anklet, and I had a black velvet leash and collar adorned with crystal studs. Charmaine and I were followed by Lucille.

  She was dressed like a Renaissance princess. Her crimson satin gown was gathered under the chest with a black velvet ribbon. The scoop neck and bell sleeves were trimmed in black lace. A crown of satin holly berries with black leaves rested on the back of her head. A red ribbon was woven loosely through her hair. Underneath the voluminous dress was a , sweatpants and UGG boots. I had watched her stash her gym bag in one of the silver cauldrons in the foyer. It was packed for a stay in Magnus’ basement. Her supplies included: the laptop, cell phone, a jumbo can of Raid, a mousetrap, three large jars of crunchy peanut butter, 10 cans of tuna, bottles of water, hand sanitizer and several bags of different varieties of M&M’s.

  Scattered around the various tables in the salon, the gamblers were so focused on their cards and chips that no one looked up when we arrived. Although Charmaine sent the invitations, she did not know most of the guests. She and Lucille stood by themselves in the vast space, like twice-removed relatives at a wedding, uncertain what to do next.

  “That dress looks beautiful on you, Lucille,” Charmaine said, making small talk.

  “You look beautiful too. And Sugar’s outfit is her best one ever. But I think she might be a little uncomfortable with those bracelets on her paws. Now that everyone’s seen her, maybe we should take them off.”

  “Not on your life. Each one cost $50. Besides, Sugar doesn’t mind being uncomfortable for beauty. She always wants to look her prettiest. I can tell that she just adores those cuffs. You know she’s a girlie girl.”

  I limped slightly to indicate that Lucille was right. The bracelets were too tight, and the pointy crystal stones were digging into my flesh. But Charmaine wasn’t watching. Eyes narrowed, she was scrutinizing the scene.

  “Only about half the people I invited are here. We’re going to have lots of leftover food. Look at this room. It’s really strange. At least Larry had to fight with Cristoff about it and not me.”

  She was right. The salon was surreal. It looked as if it was art-directed by the Greek Orthodox chapter of Gamblers Anonymous. Candles in every imaginable shade of white flickered over the gaming tables. The reverential atmosphere had subdued the guests, and the gamblers and pit bosses were doing their business in whispers. A trio was playing a smooth jazz version of We Three Kings to a small dance floor that was empty. The giant aluminum tree sparkled, aflame with environmental righteousness. Wire sculptures cast shadows on the walls and ceiling, while from the silver cauldrons, a fragrance that combined elements of yuletide and dental office, drifted through the room. But no holiday decoration could trump what we saw through the wraparound windows: the city dressed in evening clothes, skyscrapers alight with Christmas glitter like towering jewels against the ebony sky. Charmaine and Lucille rested their heads on the window. I pressed my nose to the glass, nostalgic for the self that used to stand in this very spot marveling at the
brittle winter beauty of the holiday skyline. Oh, holy night. The stars are brightly shining.

  “Lucille, do you see Larry?”

  “Yes, he’s at the table by the door.”

  “What’s he doing? Try to tell me without looking at him.”

  “Well, I think he’s playing poker.”

  “Who is with him?”

  “No one I’ve ever seen, except CJ.”

  “Anyone else? Don’t look over there.”

  “Don’t worry. He won’t see us. He isn’t paying any attention. There are two women. They look like twins with very short curly black hair. They’re wearing the same really pretty green silk dress.”

  “Oh, God, it’s Brandy and Mandy. Why did I invite them?” Charmaine answered her own question under her breath: “Because Larry told me to. How big a jerk does that make me? Let’s walk around the room and check things out. Sugar, are you ready? Let’s take a deep breath. We’re going to walk around the room.”

  We weaved between the tables. Charmaine greeted the guests, but no one realized that she was the hostess. She did a doubletake when we saw Suzie dealing blackjack. Suzie was wearing a strapless silver minidress that gave her belly the appearance of a blimp floating over the table. It was a good thing the hospital was close by. The green curl was gone, replaced by cat’s-eye outlined in black and silver and a rhinestone lip stud.

  Suzie dealt with confidence. The cards floated off her stubby black-nailed fingers. The chips flew back to her hands. She shuffled, and her silver thumb rings flashed and shone in the candlelight. But her expression did not match her graceful gestures. Her eyes were hard. She was actually scowling at the players who were seated around her in semi-circle. It was obvious she would rather be anywhere but here.

  “Can you believe that dress? What is she thinking?” said Charmaine to no one in particular. “And that pouty face. I should say something.”

  “Maybe she’s just uncomfortable,” offered Lucille.

  “As if we couldn’t tell. She doesn’t need to broadcast it. Come on, we should inspect the buffet table. But I’m afraid to look. Okay, girls be brave. Let’s move forward.”

  Although it was 8:30 p.m., the food was untouched. It was not a spread designed to stimulate appetite. The table looked like an installation at the Museum of Modern Art—the kind of bizarre display that people wearing assertive eyeglasses gaze at knowingly while the rest of us are baffled. Since all the dishes were white, there was not much to distinguish one from the other. Even the smells were monochromatic. Charmaine moved to a platter of something pasty. She poked a fork in one pallid lump. It jiggled and slithered.

  “It’s those damn tofulets. Oh, Lucille, what am I going to do? We can’t let Larry see this.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do, Charmaine. But if it makes you feel better, he doesn’t look angry.”

  “No? Oh, thank God. How can you tell?”

  “Well, he’s laughing really hard. He looks like he’s having a great time.”

  “I guess we’ll find out pretty soon. I can’t stand to look at this anymore. I need a drink.”

  We moved to one of the bars that were scattered around the perimeter.

  “I’ll have champagne,” said Charmaine.

  “Can I have a glass?” Lucille asked.

  “Sure. Give her a half-glass,” said Charmaine.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t think I’m allowed to serve minors,” said the bartender.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said I don’t think I’m allowed to serve minors.”

  “Listen, this is my house. You’re working for me tonight, and I say she gets a glass of champagne.”

  “No problem,” said the bartender.

  “Oh, and give me a saucer of Perrier with a cherry for Sugar.”

  “I don’t think I have any saucers back here.”

  “You don’t think much do you? Just empty out that dish and use it.”

  “That’s salt for the margaritas.”

  “Well, salt is not very healthy. No one at this party needs to have a salty Margarita.”

  The bartender dumped the salt into a wastebasket and poured Perrier into the dish. He dropped a cherry on top and handed it to Charmaine.

  “My, doesn’t that look delicious, Suggie? Let’s have a toast. Merry Christmas to us all.” She and Lucille clinked glasses. I barked.

  “Did you hear that? Isn’t Sugar the smartest doggie ever?” Lucille scratched my ears.

  “She sure is.”

  Both Charmaine and Lucille bent down to kiss me on the head. I licked their hands. It was a perfect Kodak moment.

  “Charmaine, Charmaine. Isn’t this so FESTAL? Brandon, gushing fiercely enough to drown in his own enthusiasm, had popped out from behind a wire tree. “You know Cristoff stylized that word just for your party and it’s gone totally viral. It’s all over. Your word is famous. Doesn’t that make you feel important? I bet you’ll be in Wikipedia. You look fabulous. That dress is so spectacular.”

  “You’re the first person to notice,” said Charmaine.

  “I can’t believe that. You look just like…” Brandon paused, searching for the correct descriptor. “A piece of candy. I hope you don’t mind that Jared and I stayed around for the party. Actually, we were afraid to go back to Trudy’s. Cristoff was so furious with CJ.”

  “Candy? I was going more for supermodel. But whatever. Have a great time. Eat that food. No one else is going to. Take home a kitty bag. Sugar wouldn’t eat that if she was starving. And tell Cristoff that I’m not paying for those disgusting tofulets.”

  “You know you’re not being fair to Cristoff. He just wanted your party to be beautiful. He’s on your side. He’s temperamental, but that’s because he’s so committed to his vision,” said Brandon.

  “Well, I’d like to see him be more committed to me,” said Charmaine.

  “You know, I don’t like telling tales out of school,” Brandon’s enthusiastic tone made his desire to tattle obvious, “but a word to the wise: CJ and that cow in the Mylar dress are the people you need to watch out for.”

  “You mean Suzie?” said Charmaine.

  “I don’t know what her name is, but I was in the coatroom, standing behind one of the racks, and the two of them came in. They were having a nasty fight. It was pretty intense. They were both so angry they didn’t even notice me watching them through the coats.”

  “They are the help, Brandon. I don’t care about their problems.” The champagne had unleashed Charmaine’s most imperious Upstairs Downstairs fantasies, but she couldn’t resist gossip. “What were they saying?”

  “Well, Suzie told him that she’s sick and tired of his fooling around and treating her like garbage, and then she pointed at her belly and said, ‘Guess what? So not yours.’ CJ’s face got completely red, and he raised his arm like he was going to hit her. I didn’t know what to do. Then he said, ‘Find another meal ticket’ and turned around and walked into the salon and left her standing there. God, I was relieved. I couldn’t have let him hit her.”

  “What are you thinking, telling that story in front of Lucille? Lucille, pretend you did not hear that. Oh, my God. Why me? After tonight I’m never, ever going to be around people like that again.”

  “But that’s not all,” said Brandon.

  “There’s more? Lucille, cover your ears and turn around.”

  “This is the worst part. After CJ left, Suzie got out her phone and called someone. She was saying how pissed off she is and how he cheats on her all the time and how he gave her a black eye. Then she said, ‘I’ve had it. He treats me worse than those dogs, and he treats them really terrible. I’m gonna wait till they’re all loaded, then I’m leaving, and I’m calling the cops. I’m gonna tell them about the dogs at CJ’s and the shitload of cocaine at …’ That’s all I heard, because she walked out of the coatroom.”

  “Brandon, you’re making this up so that I’ll forget how angry I am at Cristoff. You know that’
s a really nasty lie.” Charmaine adjusted the top of her dress, which was slipping, giving Bandon a view he was unable to appreciate.

  “Does that sound like I made it up? I only know I heard what I heard, Char. I’m just trying to do you a favor. And by the way, the tofulets really are delicious. You should try one.”

  “Well, it’s not a favor. It’s only making me more upset. If you believe that, why don’t you leave?”

  “The minute I see Miss Moo stop dealing, Jared and I are out of here.”

  Brandon sniffed and walked toward the buffet. I watched him impale a tofulet, only to have it bounce off his plate.

  “Oh, God, Suggie, now we’re going to get arrested,” Charmaine clutched me to her chest. “I don’t believe him. Suzie did not say that. Brandon loves to exaggerate. And even if she did, there wouldn’t be much I could do about it.” She shook Lucille’s shoulder, “Lucille, you can turn around and uncover your ears. Come on, girls, we all need another drink.”

  We headed to the next bar. The bartender was a redhead who appeared to be barely legal herself.

  “I’ll have champagne.”

  “Here you go.”

  “Oh, honey, not Korbel. I’d like the Crystal.”

  “We don’t have that.” The girl scanned the rack of bottles.

  “I’m Charmaine Ratzinger, the hostess, and I specifically asked Cristoff to provide Crystal.”

  “I’m really sorry, but he told us to switch out the Crystal for the Korbel.”

  “That little sneak!” Charmaine’s eyes narrowed. “I paid for three cases of Crystal.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Don’t ma’am me. Just give me half a glass of champagne for her,” Charmaine said, indicating Lucille.

  “Really?” The bartender’s eyebrows lifted.

  “Yes, of course. It’s Christmas.”

  “Here you go, little girl,” said the bartender with emphasis on “little.”

  “Let’s have another toast. Here’s to new beginnings.” Charmaine and Lucille clinked glasses again. Charmaine drained hers in one swallow. “You can’t really tell it’s Korbel if you drink it fast enough. I’ll have another one.” She held out her glass for a refill. “Let’s go over to that table by the window, Lucille. I want to share something important with you. Give me one more glass for the road.” The bartender handed Charmaine another glass.