Someone Like Me

by M. R. Carey

  Fran squeezed his hand. “Cool,” she said inadequately. “Thanks. I’m going to see Dr. Southern today to ask him about what we found in the trial transcripts. I’ll ask him about this too. What we need to do to set it up.”

  “There’s probably a form you have to fill in.”

  “Sure. 317-A. Request to visit a psychotic.”

  “That’s 317-B. 317-A is taking a psychotic to Page Dairy and buying him a strawberry float.”

  Fran laughed out loud. Then clapped both hands to her mouth as she realized that her dad was sleeping right overhead. “I gotta go,” she whispered. “Sorry.”

  Having reclaimed her hand, she didn’t feel like she could give it back again. She waved, a little lamely, and whispered goodnight. Zac waved back.

  “Sleep tight, goon,” she told him.

  “On this sofa? I don’t have any choice!”

  She had to suppress another fit of giggles as she went up the stairs. In spite of everything, she was feeling optimistic and excited.

  Then you’re an idiot! Jinx growled. Fran, don’t do this. Please don’t. We’re fine as we are!

  “We’ve never been fine,” Fran said sadly. Jinx opened her mouth to speak, but she caught the emphasis Fran had put on the we and closed it again. Fran had been fine before Picota, but before Picota meant before Jinx too. There had never been a time since Jinx arrived when Fran hadn’t been medicated or freaking out or both things at once.

  Fran opened the door of her room and they both slipped inside. Jinx took up her customary position at the foot of the bed. She was chastened, her shoulders hunched to hide her head, although she peered up at Fran from between her spread front paws. I understand why you’ve got to go, she said. And I’ll come too, so I can guard you. But I’m scared for you.

  Fran knelt so they were on the same level. With one hand she mimed stroking the little fox. “I don’t think things can get any worse than they are now, Jinx,” she said.

  They can always get worse.

  “Cynic.”

  I don’t know what that means.

  Fran vaguely remembered that etymologically it meant “sort of like a dog” but she thought it would be a bad idea to say so. Instead she said, “We’ll go together. I’m not afraid of Bruno Picota if I’ve got the Lady Jinx to protect me.”

  The compliment pleased Jinx enough that she didn’t argue anymore. But Fran was left wondering where these ventriloquized doubts were coming from. Just once it would be nice if she and her subconscious were on the same page.

  Beth was a few minutes late at the courthouse—her imperfect driving skills compounded by an imperfect memory of downtown Pittsburgh. By the time she arrived, everyone was already there, waiting. Everyone except for the star of the show, of course, but he wasn’t likely to show any time soon. Jamie Langdon was there, looking at her watch every thirty seconds. She was representing team Marc all by herself: his lawyer, Quaid, was nowhere to be seen. You get what you pay for, Beth thought with grim amusement.

  Jeremy Naylor brought Beth up to speed against a backdrop of general nerviness and milling around. “There’s no sign of your ex-husband. Apparently his partner hasn’t seen him since last night and can’t give us any information as to his whereabouts. She’s sitting over there, looking like someone pissed in her coffee.”

  “Well, she’s out twenty big ones if he doesn’t show,” Beth pointed out calmly. Naylor gave her a curious look. Obviously that didn’t sound in character. Also, it was stupid. At this point Marc was only ten minutes late. She couldn’t afford to be the first person to jump to the conclusion that he had defaulted. Her cue was to play dumb and to be surprised and concerned as the whole thing unfolded, not self-possessed and up ahead of it.

  She smiled weakly. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m tense as hell. I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.”

  “Understandable,” Naylor said, although he didn’t return the smile. “Well, let’s see if we can make sure you sleep soundly tonight, Ms. Kendall.”

  Beebee came over while they were talking. She put her hand on Beth’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Last stretch, Liz,” she said. “Keep it together.”

  “I’m good,” Beth assured her, playing brave soldier.

  “Yeah, well, Ms. Langdon isn’t. I just had a little chat with her. It seems she and Marc retired together around half past midnight, and then she woke up at seven and he wasn’t there. She wasn’t worried at first. He often goes out for walks at night.” The cop looked sidelong at Beth and raised her eyebrows. “Be interesting to get the dates of some of those, wouldn’t it? Maybe later, after we’ve got this trial out of the way. Anyway, she called him and the phone went straight to voicemail. Then she waited for him as long as she could and came on over here when he didn’t show. She’s rattled now. Running out of innocent explanations.”

  “So what happens?” Beth asked. “If he doesn’t come?”

  Beebee blew out her cheeks. “Well, that would be some serious shit,” she said. “The judge would most likely issue a bench warrant for Marc’s arrest. His counsel will argue strongly against that, though, and ask for a stay. Probably say Ms. Langdon has got a better chance of bringing him in if she’s given some time to go look for him by herself without the sirens blaring in the background.”

  “Either way,” Naylor summed up, “he’s in contempt at the very least and a fugitive felon at the worst. It’s bad news for his girlfriend and very good news for us.”

  “I hope they find him,” Beth said demurely, “for Jamie’s sake.”

  “Don’t be too noble, Liz,” Naylor chided her. “If God gives you an ace, it’s a sin not to play it. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and sit on the judge’s left shoulder since my learned colleague Mr. Quaid is likely already in position on his right.”

  Beebee lingered after he’d gone and chatted to Beth some more, mostly about the kids, evidently feeling it was her duty to keep her spirits up. Beth tried hard to keep her frustration and tension from showing in her face. A false step in front of a cop was different from a false step in front of a friend or neighbor. Riskier. Best not to have a cop as a friend in the first place, and she’d see what she could do about that soon, but for now she just had to keep the heroic smile plastered on and make the right noises. Yeah, Zac and Molly were fine. They were holding up well. Zac was cheering her on; Moll was letting it all sail right over her head.

  “Like she does most things,” Pete Sethi said, strolling up to join them with Parvesh right behind. “Zen Buddhists meditate for years to achieve higher consciousness. Moll was born with it.”

  “She’s not immune, though,” Parvesh said more soberly. “I think she’s aware on some level that there’s some scary stuff going on. Hence the nomadic wanderings in the middle of the night.”

  “That sounds alarming,” Beebee said. And Parvesh recounted the whole story, with a shit ton of unnecessary drama, while Beth stood by with her hands—behind her back—squeezed tightly into fists. Why couldn’t any of these people mind their own business? Why did they have to be all up in her life as if they owned a piece of the freehold? Why had even Doormat Liz put up with this shit?

  Beth had had friends of her own, of course, before her first life ended. She could barely remember them. Her ordeal had stretched her out too thin and taut for all that stuff. She had traveled lightly from world to world, taken nothing with her except her hate and her determination. That was why she was here. And from here on out, that was how it was going to be. These people could stick around for now, but she would get some distance from all of them as soon as she possibly could. If she didn’t, she was going to die from suffocation.

  They were finally called into the courtroom just before 11:00 a.m. Judge Giffen, already sitting, apologized to Beth and the other principals for the case not going forward. Obviously this was caused by the non-appearance of the defendant, which there was no getting around. “I’ve heard submissions from both counsels,” the judge said gravely, “and I’ve
decided for the moment not to issue a warrant for Mr. Kendall’s arrest. I will give him a grace period of forty-eight hours to present himself to the city police or to his legal counsel. His bail is of course rescinded, and he will be remanded in custody as soon as he’s found. However, I will not place a recovery order on the bail monies if he appears within that time. If he doesn’t, the sum will be in default. Ms. Langdon, you should consult with your husband’s counsel and with the bail agent about what that will mean for you.”

  The judge rose and exited, leaving them all to replay those few gnomic sentences in their minds. The court had been in session for less than five minutes.

  Naylor started putting files and loose documents back in his briefcase. “I guess we’re done,” he said to Beth. “You know your ex-husband better than I do, Liz. I’m taking the view that he went out on a bender last night and woke up in someone else’s bed. Or someone else’s gutter. But perhaps he’s stupider than he looks.”

  Beth chose her words with care. “Marc isn’t stupid. But he does have poor impulse control sometimes. And he does like his drink. Most likely you’re right.”

  “Then I’m sure we’ll be hearing from the Pittsburgh Bureau of Police in due course—and I’ll see you back here in a week or two. Just so you know, we were already in a favorable position. Now … I’d bet the farm Giffen goes with a custodial sentence.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Naylor.” Beth made a convincing show of being relieved, exhausted, overwhelmed. She took his hand in both of hers, briefly, and got out of the courtroom ahead of both the Sethis and Beebee. She was momentarily torn between giving them the strokes and emotional resolutions they probably wanted and just hitting the highway.

  She went with the second of those options. She was planning to terminate Liz’s friendships slowly and carefully: no ruptures, just death by gradual neglect. But today was her first day on the job and she deserved a reward after the night’s hard labors. She escaped out of a side door before anyone else could grab her and emote at her.

  She went home and drew herself a bath, running the water as hot as she could take it. She soaked for more than an hour with a glass of red wine at her right hand, the door wide open, Springsteen’s greatest hits drifting in from the hi-fi in the lounge that Liz had hardly ever even switched on. A phone rang somewhere in the middle distance. Most likely it was Liz’s, but the sound might be coming from upstairs. She hadn’t memorized the ringtone on Liz’s phone (her phone) yet. Either way she didn’t move to answer it. If it was important, whoever it was would ring back. If it wasn’t, they could go screw themselves.

  The antique hi-fi would have to go. In her own house, Beth had had a fancy digital system with satellite speakers in every room. Admittedly she’d been way behind on the payments for it, but that was what credit cards were for.

  Out of the bath, dried and feeling a whole lot more human, she pulled on a bathrobe and went through into the lounge. Slumped decadently in front of the TV, she finished the bottle of red in front of three back-to-back soaps—Days of Our Lives, which she’d watched religiously at home, and a couple of others she didn’t know from a hole in the ground. Surfing onward with a mild, happy buzz on, she found The Price Is Right, The Chew and Let’s Make a Deal. She drew the line at news shows, though, jumping channel whenever one loomed up in front of her. Too much reality would only harsh the vibe.

  Every little thing felt like a pleasure. The scent of pine disinfectant from the kitchen (a legacy of last night’s wetwork); the feel of the cushions plumped up under her ass and against her back; even reaching under her dressing gown to scratch an itch. Her body was a musical instrument, strummed by the passing air.

  She masturbated, slowly and languidly, then with more urgency and purpose. She would have to find a way to scratch that itch too, and soon. It had been way too long.

  She dozed a little, drank and dozed some more. Her phone rang again, and then the house phone. She could have answered but she was reluctant to let the world in. It would come soon enough.

  Another bottle? Maybe not. It wouldn’t be great to have the kids come home and find her passed out cold. She fixed herself some fresh coffee instead, savoring the dense, layered smell of it as it perked, the plosive song of the coffeemaker, the contrast between warm air on her half-dressed body and cold tiles against her bare feet. Life was full of rich sensations that needed to be appreciated properly.

  The flesh of her left heel tugged and tingled as she pulled it free from a sticky patch on the floor. Blood? She squatted down to inspect the tiles. There was no stain that she could see, and she thought she had been thorough, but what else could it be? She touched the floor tentatively with her fingers, probing until she found a small spot that felt tacky to the touch. Then she went and got a bottle of cleaning gel and a cloth and blitzed the whole area, scrubbing vigorously.

  While she was still down there, she heard the side door open. She stood up quickly, pulling the bathrobe closed. Zac and Molly were in the doorway, Zac’s hand still on the handle. Zac stared at her in amazement. Molly, her sunny self, only smiled.

  “I made a map of America!” she announced ringingly. “With all the states.”

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Zac demanded. “I’ve been trying to call you all day.”

  “Sorry,” Beth said quickly. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. The day got by me. After I came back from the courthouse, I just sort of collapsed.” She hesitated, pennies dropping one after another. “I should have picked Molly up.”

  “Yeah.” Zac put a heavy emphasis on the word. He looked bewildered. “I got called out of class. It was Moll’s principal. He said you hadn’t turned up and he called you but got no answer. I was the second emergency number. I told him I’d come right away and get her. I said you were most likely still in court. But you weren’t.”

  Beth felt a twinge of irritation, but she had put herself in the wrong and she had to take the rebuke without kicking. She even managed to put on a smile. “You already got the news?”

  “After I couldn’t get through to you the second time, I called Beebee.”

  This business with the cop had to stop! “And she told you that your father was a no-show. It’s good news, Zac. It makes our case much stronger if Marc turns out to be the kind of arrogant shit who doesn’t even respect the law. A suspended sentence is like the benefit of the doubt, and he just threw that in the trash.”

  She stopped. Molly was staring at her with big, round eyes. Zac quickly shooed her through into the hallway to take off her coat and put away her school bag. Okay, so using the s word in front of Molly had been a bad idea. Even at times like this the decencies had to be defended.

  “Mom—” Zac began, as soon as they were alone. He didn’t sound angry. It sounded more like he was pleading with her.

  “I’m sorry,” Beth said again, cutting him off. She put her hand on his arm. She didn’t have to lie to him. There would be lies a-plenty, but right now she let her real feelings show. She had missed him—had missed both her children—so much. This moment of reunion had loomed so large in her imagination. She couldn’t let it sour because she’d celebrated too hard on her first day back. “Zac, you know what kind of strain I’ve been under. That nonsense with the house-painting—I was trying to burn all the tension out of me, and at the same time I was trying to keep you away from it.” Okay, so she did have to lie, a little, but the emotion was real. “I want us to be a family again. The three of us. We’ve been stuck for so long in a … a situation. Not a life, just a situation. Now it’s over and we can live again.”

  Zac’s open, concerned face showed every emotion he was feeling. He believed her, but he was still troubled. “It’s not over, Mom,” he said. “Just because Dad wasn’t there today, it doesn’t mean he’s gone. Where would he even go to?”

  Beth shrugged, as offhandedly as she could. “I don’t care, so long as he stays away.” But it was true that she couldn’t afford to sound so certain, even in front of her kids. �
��I know, Zac. I know he’s bound to come back sooner or later. But today felt like a turning point. I think it was, for all of us. You’ll see.”

  She gave him a hug. After a moment’s hesitation he responded, hugging her back. “I hope you’re right, Mom,” was all he said.

  “I’m totally right,” Beth assured him. “And I’m going to prove it. What do you say to a movie and a meal deal? Tomorrow I’m back at work and you guys are at school. Tonight we party like crazy animals.”

  “On a Thursday?” Zac protested.

  It was a weak-ass argument and Beth beat it down easily. Thursday was so close to the weekend you could practically smell it. And how long had it been since the three of them went out together? A dog’s age, right? “Or the four of us, maybe. Call that girlfriend of yours and bring her along too.”

  Zac perked up considerably at that suggestion. “You mean Fran? I can ask her.”

  “Ask her hard. Sweep her off her feet. Girls like that stuff.”

  “Mom, she’s not my …”

  “I know, I know. Ask her.”

  That part of the scheme fizzled. Zac called Francine Whatshername, and got no answer. Nobody picked up at the house, either. A few moments later he got a text, which he read but didn’t offer to share. “She can’t come tonight,” he told Beth. “She’s got some stuff she needs to do.” His casual tone couldn’t have been less convincing if he’d added a nonchalant whistle. He was hiding something, and another time Beth might have pressed the point but right then it didn’t matter a good goddamn.

  It was a great evening in any case. They went to a tiny indie cinema on Sheridan behind the Home Depot and saw My Neighbor Totoro, a Japanese cartoon that had been dubbed into English. It was Zac’s choice—he had watched a bootleg version on Francine’s laptop—but he assured Beth it would be great for Molly. He was right too, although Moll clutched Beth’s arm in frantic alarm during the sequence where the younger of the two heroines, Mai, went missing from home. “You know there’s no monsters in this movie,” Beth whispered to the little girl.