by Rice, Debby
“Brandon, what did I tell you about calling me ‘Char’?”
“Sorry,” said Brandon. “Come on. Open it.”
“Aren’t they all the same?” said Charmaine. Her eyelids were drooping. The alcohol had finally outraced her hyperactivity.
“No, Jared and I got a whole bunch of different things. We wrapped them ourselves. It took almost all of last night. You’re going to love them.”
“Oh, these are absolutely adorable,” said Mandy. “What are they? It looks like a mouse.” She was holding something small and brown in the palm of her hand.
“They’re soy chocolate animals from Vegan Delish. We’ve got 20 different kinds.”
“Oh, Char, look. You have the puppies. That’s so perfect.”
“Yes, and I suppose Larry has the rats and CJ gets the snakes. You’re right, it’s absolutely perfect,” said Charmaine.
Brandon and Jared look crestfallen.
“Jared, honey, would you get me another martini?” said Charmaine.
“Sorry, Char, we have to go now,” said Brandon, making a point of eyeballing Suzie’s empty table.
“Brannie, the party’s just starting,” whined Jared.
“You’re right about that, but trust me, no one is going to photograph you for Chicago Social tonight.”
“Oh, you think that’s all I care about. I just want to have fun. We should dance. Look. No one is dancing,” Jared whined. He grabbed Brandon’s hand and tried to drag him onto the dance floor.
“Come on—we’re going. I’ll explain later.” Brandon pulled Jared in the opposite direction toward the door. They had a mini tug-of-war, which Brandon finally won.
Larry returned to the table with his drink.
“Okay, group. Are you ready?” Brandy ran her fingers through her hair, shuffled the cards and began to deal. “It’s no limit Texas hold ’em. CJ puts in the big blind.”
CJ took a handful of chips and shoved them into the middle of the table. “Okay, we got $500 on the table.”
In less than five minutes, CJ had won the hand.
“During the last hour, I’ve had the rottenest fucking cards of my entire life,” said Larry. He took a blimp-shaped cigar out of his pocket, unwrapped it and threw the cellophane on the floor. Then he wet his lips, put the cigar in his mouth and rolled it around. He put a match to the tip and began sucking as vigorously as an agitated baby with a pacifier. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was not entirely a game of chance.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” said CJ.
“Just what I said,” said Larry, blowing a cloud of funky smoke in CJ’s face.
“Well, it sounds like you’re not saying what you mean.”
“All I said was I keep getting lousy cards.” Larry blew another puff of smoke in CJ’s direction.
“Are you accusing me of something?” CJ ran a stack of chips through his fingers, making an annoying clatter.
“You really need to chill, CJ. You’re winning. You shouldn’t be so touchy. And, Charmaine, that goddamn excuse for an animal is giving me the buggy evil eye again. Put it on down the floor. It’s jinxing me.”
How typical is that? Mr. All About Me thinks I’m staring at him when I’m really looking at Richard.
“Larry, bite your tongue. That dog is adorable,” said Mandy.
“Charmaine could probably show Sugar at Westchester if she wanted to,” said Richard, coming to my defense.
“Do me a favor. Don’t give her any more goofy ideas than she already has.”
I felt Charmaine’s legs stiffen. Staring straight ahead, she tossed down the drink Jared had brought in one gulp. Then, pretending that she was wiping her mouth with a napkin, she dried a tear. Mandy and Brandy giggled nervously. Richard shot her a look. I couldn’t tell whether it was pity, concern or contempt.
“Are we ready for another hand?” said CJ.
“Sure.” Lester swabbed his head and laid the crumpled handkerchief on the table. Brandy and Mandy sniffed in unison.
“Since some people are a little uptight about their cash, how about if we do something different? Winner gets the dog. Larry will want to lose this hand. And that dog will go back where it belongs.” CJ’s smile was slitting his face.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You cannot play for my dog,” said Charmaine.
“I think it’s a great idea,” said Larry. “Besides, what makes it your dog? You don’t even know where it came from. Lucille found it here in the condo. So it’s really my dog. Anyway, you can play too. Maybe you’ll win and get to keep it.”
Daphne tossed a package at Larry. He lobbed it with his hand so it bounced off CJ’s forehead.
“Actually, I’m not so sure it’s your dog either, Larry,” said CJ.
“I told you we got Sugar from a breeder in Indiana!” Charmaine screamed at CJ. She had lost all composure. “And, Larry, you’re such a jerk. You know that I don’t play poker.”
Guests at the other tables stopped what they were doing and looked our way. Mandy and Brandy, sensing that the party was on a course for disaster, fumbled with their purses. They left their chips on the table.
“Don’t go now, girls. We’re just starting to have fun,” said CJ.
“Sorry, we’re double-booked tonight,” said Mandy.
“Got to run. Great party, Charmaine,” said Brandy who was already halfway out the door.
Indignation, stoked by vodka and champagne, rolled in waves from Charmaine’s body. She got up to leave, holding me to her chest like a shield. Plotting a wobbly course through the cocktail tables and candelabras, she slipped on an errant poker chip. At the dance floor, her heel caught the edge of the parquet surface. She teetered. There was a crack when the spindly white satin tower of her sandal split in two. One leg went up in the air while the other slid out from under her. This was followed by the rending sound of fabric that has exceeded its capacity to contain a bulging body part. Charmaine’s gown split down the back, leaving her bottom, clad only in a black lace thong, completely exposed. She lost hold of me, and I was airborne, sailing across the room in the galaxy of Swarovski crystals that had exploded from her dress.
There was a dizzying plunge into darkness. Then I was rising into a blinding white light. It fit the description of Elisabeth Kübler Ross tunnel to eternity. But my heart was still pounding hard enough to crack a rib. After a few minutes my eyes adjusted and my breathing slowed. A hand, soft and warm as a mitten, was stroking my head.
“Look what Santa caught in her sack. Girl, you are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Daphne giggled. Her beard tickled my snout. She planted a wet kiss on the top of my head.
“Hey, people—look at Santa’s little elf,” she said, holding me up in the spotlight. But no one was paying attention. A crowd had formed around Charmaine’s prone body.
In the interest of modesty, someone had thrown a jacket over her backside.
“Don’t move her. She might have broken something,” I heard one guest say.
“Oh, my God. What happened?” said Daphne. She put me on the floor, and we both ran over to see.
Daphne was not able to get past the circle of onlookers, but I crawled through the tangle of legs. Charmaine must have hit her head hard. She was lying in a halo of crystal shards, unconscious and breathing heavily. Her face was white, and her skin was drawn tightly across the bones. An eggplant-colored bump the size of a golf ball had already formed on her forehead. I sat next to her. There were purple smudges under her eyes. I begin licking her cheek. I was compelled to do this. She was magnetic. Even if I wanted to, I could not turn away. I tasted salt, perfume from her cosmetics and the alcohol she had been drinking. As my tongue moved over her skin, I started to feel drowsy. My tail and ears relaxed. My eyes lost focus. Charmaine remained motionless. The heat from her body enveloped us. The sounds in the room disappeared. All I could hear was her breathing and, under that, the thready beat of her pulse and the thrum of blood running through he
r veins. I had the sensation that we were melting. Each time my tongue slid over her cheek, we diminished. Together, we were sliding into oblivion. Soon there would be nothing but a pile of shiny stones left on the floor. I struggled to rouse some other consciousness, but this was not a dream I could escape. I was disappearing, leaving Lucille and Richard behind.
Then I heard their voices. They came from inside my head. As they grew louder, the sounds become shapes. The enormous faces of Don Paco and Veronica filled my mind’s eye. I tried to frame a question—to ask them what to do. But words had vanished; there was only my heart. And at this moment, everything I had already lost or was about to let slip through my fingers became clear. A picture began to form in my mind, an image I prayed would be powerful enough to pierce the haze surrounding Veronica and convince her that she could trust me with Lucille. The scene came as naturally as a dream.
There were three of us seated at a round table—Lucille, Richard and me. We were laughing and eating. It was a completely ordinary moment that was filled with magic. Lucille made a joke, and I gave one hand to Richard and the other to her. We became the charmed circle, that space where love creates the illusion of a safe and hopeful world. I heard Veronica whisper, “Thank you.” And I felt her gratitude surrounding me, warm and soft as a blanket. I wanted to rest in that perfect moment forever.
But Don Paco was screaming at me, loudly enough to hurt my ears. It sounded like he was saying, “Let’s wrestle, let’s wrestle,” and I wondered if this was some kinky new idea. But no, it was not “wrestle,” he was saying “vessel.” Something about a vessel—my vessel. I willed myself to listen.
“Claim your vessel! Claim your vessel!”
“How—what do I do? You have to help me.”
“Sorry, chula. I got a lot of answers, but not that one,” said Don Paco. “You got to figure it out. Maybe you just dive in. You better try. I don’t think you got much time.”
Diving—I needed to dive. I tried to speed up my mind, but my thoughts were cloudy and thin. I couldn’t focus. My last dive was from the terrace. I remembered the hair-raising spin, watching the buildings switch back and forth in irrational perspective as the ground rose to meet me, and I thought I never wanted to fall like that again.
“Andale, niña, jump!” urged Don Paco.
“You think I should jump?”
“Don’t think. Just do. You got an EM.”
When he said this, I saw Lucille’s face as clearly as if she were standing in front of me. Her eyes were wide with hope. She was grinning like a medalist. I had to jump. I felt a push. Don Paco and Veronica were giving me a psychic boot in the ass.
And I dove. It was a giant leap of faith. I fell into a black hole. My consciousness scattered like the crystals on Charmaine’s dress. An arrow shot in the dark, I’d missed my mark. I was everywhere and nowhere. I was no longer a dog or a person. I tried to find my way back to Sugar, but she was gone. Before me was the terrifying possibility of being trapped in the half-world, another prisoner in the bureaucracy of the undead. Then, like a cosmic microwave completing its cycle, there was a series of impatient electronic bleeps. A lock tumbled, and a door sprang open. I was in!
“Good job!” Don Paco and Veronica’s voices are now barely audible. But I heard them congratulating me like parents cheering a child taking her first steps.
I opened my eyes to a crowd huddled around me. I looked for Charmaine, but she had disappeared. A very tiny dog was staring at me. Her tongue was hanging out of the side of her mouth. A little tiara was strapped to her head just like the one that I was wearing. I sniffed. But I didn’t smell anything. The air was vanilla. I sniffed again, but the pungent odor of another canine was absent. I searched for a whiff of the complex nasal landscape I’d grown accustomed to, but there was nothing. I tried to move closer to inspect my strange doppelgänger, but my hind legs didn’t work. My tail seemed to have disappeared.
That is when I understood. My double was Sugar, and there was no mirror in sight. With this overwhelming realization, I began to experience my new body. I’d moved from Motel Six to the Four Seasons. In spite of the horrendous pounding in my head, I felt fabulous. I wiggled my toes and fingers, stretched my legs and hugged myself. I ran my hands over my face and into my hair. My skin was a marvel of smoothness. But whose nose was this? Whose mouth? Whose hair?
“Don’t move, Charmaine,” said Richard. I felt his hand on my shoulder, pushing me down. “You could have a concussion.”
Charmaine—I was filled with relief not to be looking out of Lester’s baleful eyes. But if I was Charmaine, where was she? Sugar whimpered. Then she licked my cheek, and I knew the answer.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.” I said the first words I had spoken in months slowly, savoring every syllable. They rolled around on my tongue, juicy as ripe fruit. It was amazing to hear these sounds coming from my throat and to feel my mouth form words. Talking—could there be anything more magical? Richard was staring at me. His face was white and his eyes were full of concern. For someone who had just experienced a major humiliation, my expression of starry-eyed wonder must have seemed completely incongruous. I tried not to smile, and then I remembered Lucille. I had been so fascinated by my transformation that I had completely forgotten why it happened.
“I have to get out of here. Richard, could you get my coat? It’s in the hall closet.”
“Maybe you should lie down for a minute. You had a really bad fall,” he said.
“She’s a big girl. If she wants to go, let her,” said Larry. “Go on, Charmaine. Get out of here and don’t forget to take your pet rat with you. I hope I never see the two of you again. I’ve had it. I’m done with high maintenance. And, by the way, that boob job—not worth it. They look like soccer balls.”
There was no time to waste. I lifted myself onto one elbow. My head was swimming. I thought I might be sick. I rested there for a few minutes, hoping the dizziness would subside, but the room continued to spin. But I didn’t have time to wait. I had to find Lucille. I got to my knees.
“Charmaine, you really shouldn’t get up,” said Richard. But he could tell that I was determined and held out his hands. I reached for him. Our hands clasped, and I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Very slowly, I rose to my feet. The coat that was covering me fell on the floor. My gown was hanging off my arms. The ground was still swaying beneath me. But I was standing. It was a miracle. People were gaping at my bottom, covered in a postage stamp of lace, but I didn’t care.
“Sit right here, Charmaine,” said Richard, pushing a chair underneath me. “I’ll be right back with the coats.” He ran to the closet as though my humiliation had been transferred to him. He came back with the sable coat and a pair of Charmaine’s suede boots. I pulled the boots on. Then I got up. He held the coat open for me, and I slipped my arms into the sleeves. The fur closed around me. There was no more appropriate outfit for my newborn self than this warm, fuzzy cocoon.
Richard took my arm, and we hurried toward the door. In the foyer, he gave me a puzzled look.
“You left Sugar behind,” he said. “Don’t you want to take her? Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Oh, my God, of course I do. How could I have forgotten? Don’t worry, I’m fine. But I can’t go back in there.”
“No problem. I’ll get her,” he said. He opened the door to the salon, and I heard the din of the party. It sounded as though people were getting their coats. I willed Richard to hurry before anyone else joined us in the foyer.
Richard came back with Sugar. He had wrapped her in his scarf and put her in his pocket. Her eyes were huge and shiny, and she was shaking. Richard patted her, and she whimpered.
“It’s okay, girl, we didn’t leave you behind,” he said.
The whimper became a high-pitched whine.
“Relax, Sugar, everything’s okay,” Richard stroked her ears.
I looked at her peering out from his coat, and it was painful to imagine the chaos that had been unleashed in t
hat tiny brain. The elevator door opened, and the three of us stepped in.
“I don’t know what it is, but you look really different,” Richard said. “It’s as if I’m seeing you for the first time, and you’re so amazingly beautiful.”
I did not reply. There were no words.
Chapter 27
“It seems to me that I have always lived! I possess memories that go back to the Pharoahs.”
Gustave Flaubert
“Hey, Ms. Charmaine, merry Christmas,” said Darien. “You all heading out for the evening?” He had a sprig of holly pinned to his lapel and one stuck in his doorman’s cap.
“Merry Christmas, Darien. Have you seen Lucille?”
“Yes, I was just getting ready to buzz you all. I was worried. She went out a while ago. Said she was going down to Walgreens. I asked why she was out by herself so late, and she said you sent her to buy some ice cream. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, everything is fine.”
Darien was trying not to stare at the lump on my forehead, but he knew enough not to ask. I could tell he was wondering what kind of trouble was going on at the party. Just then, four shiny black cars pulled up across the street, and I knew that Brandon had been telling the truth. Their doors opened simultaneously. Four men in nondescript black clothing exited rapidly from each car. As they crossed the street, I pulled Richard’s arm to move him along.
“What’s the matter, Charmaine? Is something wrong with Lucille?” said Richard.
“I don’t know, but we need to find her right away.” Thankfully, aside from the throbbing, my head had cleared. I didn’t feel any effects from the martinis and champagne, but my legs were unsteady. Richard took my arm. He tried to go slowly, but I pulled him along as fast as I could in the direction of Walgreens. The snow had stopped, and the temperature was dropping. Our feet slid and crunched on the ice. We leaned against each other. I felt the rise and fall of his chest. The rhythm of his stride was as familiar as a favorite song. I matched his steps. As we walked, the years fell away and I was filled with a sense of peace. All my twitchy restlessness had disappeared. I had come home to a new and lighter self.