by Van Quattro
Two more perfect songs. These have to really close it all up and justify my snorting all the coke as well. I have to dig deep into the heart territory. I choose another Nils Lofgren song called, ‘Shine Silently.’ It’s about a weary guy who travels and always feels love from his woman. She shines silently. Then I pick, ‘Hey Babe,’ by Neil Young because it’s pretty as hell and it’s about a guy asking for help. I’m think I’m done when I hear John in my mind screaming, ‘Don’t Let me Down.’ Of course, this is my anthem. I will close with this plea to her, the truest words I have not spoken yet.
Done. She should be home fairly soon. I rewind the tape to the beginning and leave it in the player so I can start it as soon as I hear her coming. I’m really feeling like I need to do more to make this thing ultra awesome. If there were flowers outside, I’d go pick some. She has some flowers in the bedroom from somebody so I grab them and put them in a new vase and place it on the table she’ll have to walk past when she enters. I look through all the drawers in her little desk to see if there are any cards, like greeting cards. I find a, ‘thank you’ card that I can make-work. I write in it underneath the thank you message. ‘For being my Queen.’ I think this is going to floor her because of all the kings and queen stuff around here. I don’t think it would be the same as if someone said thank you for being my president, or first lady would it? Queens are very different, they’re special like that. What’s in America that’s the same? Maybe Miss America? Fuck I don’t know. She will know what I mean. Sometimes things get complicated, I want it to be simple, just love you know.
I go back downstairs and wait. This floor is just below street level so I can hear everything going on outside in front. A car pulls up and Jill’s unmistakable voice says, “Yes, thank you so much,” and the door closes. It’s only five or so steps to the front door so I wait a count of six and start the music, turn it up and run upstairs as she opens the door.
“Hello my darling, “ she says as if I was at long last found. She throws her arms open for an embrace. I walk over and hold her. My nose is dripping on her shawl.
“Do you have a cold my love?”
“I don’t think so. My nose is running for some reason. How was your thing?”
“My thing? My thing is fine. Ha ha. Oh, you mean the event? Well it wasn’t too awful. Osborne was there with his new captive partner. She looks like an absolute tart. He’ll drive her insane like he did everyone else. Oh fuck him, right? We are here and we have a little treat, yes?”
“Uh, Oh yeah, that’s right”
“Oh I love this song.” She starts to sing with the record in her English accent.
“Falling in love with you.” I am so thrilled my heart is banging through my ribs on my chest flesh. She loves it. I pour myself a drink. “Oh, don’t drink tonight, we have the other stuff, we don’t need to drink.”
“Just this one, it’s my first.”
“Okay my love, just one. Look, flowers. Where did you get these at this hour? A card as well? Aren’t you some kind of Knight.”? I watch her read the card the way a dog stares down slab of meat except I don’t lick my lips. I do wish I had some more coke though. “Am I your Queen?”
“Yes,” I say as if my mommy asked me if I would behave or otherwise go to juvenile hall. It has the deep joy of not having to go to jail and the devotion to trying my best.
“And you are my Knight.”
“Yep. And Day”
“You are so clever.” Smiling she starts singing, ‘Two of us’ but she doesn’t know the words and she’s trying to find them as she goes along. I think it’s very cute but it would be better if she knew the words because I know the words to every Beatles song written.
“Who do you like the best Lennon or McCartney?” I ask.
“Why, they are both equally talented aren’t they.”
“Yeah, but Lennon was more raw. He sang about more real stuff to him.”
“Oh yes, and he talked about more real stuff to him as well. And he wouldn’t ever shut up.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I dated him for a while. All he did was whine, poor man. Enough about him let’s get the treat.” Wow, I am not sure how to take this, she must be exaggerating. But she knew John LENNON!!
She heads upstairs and I have no words outside of my panic to stop her. She continues to hum, now, ‘Shine Silently’, which all of a sudden sounds like a death march to me. I wish the music was lower so I can hear what the hell is going on up there. I don’t even move to the stairs so I can listen in, I just stand frozen in the middle of the kitchen like some clown that got caught molesting a party goer. I see her legs coming down the stairs and I wish I would of gulped a whole fucking lot of booze while she was up there.
“That’s odd, I can’t seem to find it. Do you know where I put it?”
“No. I wasn’t looking when you put it somewhere. Ha, did you forget where you put it? It’s gotta be here somewhere.”
“Well don’t just stand there come up and help me find it.”
“Okay.” I wait till she goes back up then grab the bottle and suck it like it was my mommy’s booby and she told me it was the last suckle of my life. I go upstairs with my twisted smile of innocence.
“I know I put it right over here by this lamp. Oh my, am I getting old? Forgetful like an old Battersea broad.” I get on my knees and start crawling around her ankles pretending to look for it.
“It has to be here and you are not a battleship broad, nowhere near.”
“Okay, I am not crazy. Here look, powder, here by this letter. It was here!” I jump up and wipe the table clean with my fingers and lick them.
“Yeah, this is it. Huh weird.” The tiny bit of blow numbs my gums but doesn’t do anything about getting me out of this mess. I start looking under dumb shit like paper clips and stuff. I stay busy like some moronic Sherlock Holmes. When I look up she stares me right in the eye.
“You fucking liar. You did it all didn’t you?” I love the way she draws the word fuuuuucking out. “You selfish bastard. Why did you do it all?” Her face suddenly changes, it’s like every bit of flesh simmers and hair stands up like on a dogs back when it’s pissed. ‘Hey Babe,’ is playing and I don’t want to waste the song so I say,
“This song is about you.”
“I don’t give a damn. I don’t like this wanker anyway. Why? Why did you do this? We were going to share.”
“I didn’t think you really wanted some. I didn’t want you to get hooked. We can get some more. I have money look.”
“I don’t want your fucking money. Where are we going to get some more? You think I hang out with fucking dope addicts? I don’t know where to get anything you fucking wanker. You did the whole thing? You are a doper. Just think of how brilliant you’d be if you hadn’t fried half your brain on drugs.”
“No I am not a doper. I didn’t have to do it all I just thought…”
“You just thought…what? Then you steal my flowers to give them back to me. Don’t think for a minute I didn’t know that. Aaaaand my fucking thank you cards. You’re pathetic.”
“I love you.” Oh man I am cracking.
“No you don’t. You love yourself and your fucking booze and drugs.”
“That’s so not true. It’s just not! You are everything to me.”
“You can’t even make love to me half the time.”
“Yes I do, more than half. Jill, I fucked up sorta, I’m sorry. Please!” She pauses and looks at me closely. I gave a ‘please can we get past this look.’ Fuck, I feel like I murdered something.
“I want you to leave.” She says this with the conviction of a German soldier. Man I wish I could be that strong. I only have that strength when I am freaky mad.
“No Jill, please. I’ll replace it. I’ll even get more than you had.”
“I want you to leave. I want to be alone to think.” I don’t like it when people think; it never turns out in my favor.
“You can think with me here.�
�� She starts downstairs. I follow her closely. She goes to the front door opens it and motions for me to leave.
“Get out. Now.”
“God, your acting like I fucking killed your dog or something.” I walk to her and embrace her. It feels so strong. I love her so much, even more when I fuck up.
“You are a scoundrel. You will find some coke snuffing young tart and leave me.” She softly says in to my neck.
“Uh uh. No way. Your age doesn’t bother me at all.”
“What do you mean my age?”
“I mean I don’t want a young pretty girl. I want you.” She breaks away from me, grabs my jacket on the coat stand and hurls it out the door.
“Go find your pretty girl you bastard.”
“What? You know what I mean.” She starts screaming,
“GET OUT. GET OUT.” And she throws a glass across the room. I am not leaving because if I do she’ll never let me come back. I can go reconnect with Ava maybe. Fuck…I close the door, I don’t even care about my fucking jacket. I’m not leaving. She goes to the phone and calls someone. I’m thinking if it’s the cops it’ll be cool because I know them all and I can see Rita again. Jill starts this desperate whisper thing into the phone for a minute, then talks normally. She hands me the phone and says Misha wants to talk to me. I take the damn thing and this guy with a thick Russian accent starts asking me to do what Jill says. I simply tell him I can’t, because I love her too much. He pauses, I’m not sure if he’s understanding how deep my love for her is or if he thinks I’m a dope. He probably understands and still thinks I’m a dope. Finally, he softly asks for her back. He sounds like someone from a Chekov play and he’d probably be good in it no matter what because of his fucking accent. I give her back the phone. That was too easy and weird. She says some ‘Yeahs’, hangs up and gathers her things to leave.
“Where you going?”
“Away, since you won’t leave.”
“Who was that?”
“That was Mikael Baryshnikov.”
“The Baryshnikov?”
“The Baryshnikov?” she says mocking my American accent. “Yes, of course. Who else? Lock the door when you leave.”
“See, I knew you were messing around on me!” She walks out, not like herself, not unlike herself, but with a hunched surrender looking deeply saddened. Maybe she really does love me
Ah fuck, I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to listen to music, I don’t want to play with her dogs, I don’t want nothing. I am coming down off the coke and feel like dirty underwear hung on a close line in church during mass. I go to her bathroom and grab a half a dozen ten ml. Valium and knock ‘em back with Vodka. I know this will help, it has before. What the fuck do I do until they start to do their thing? I wish I had that Misha’s number, I’d call him and rip him a new one for fucking around with Jill behind my back. Big deal, so he can prance around like some nutcracker, anybody can do that. I’ve done it too but to some real dark music, The Doors, and it’s much better than the shit he does. It’s just I do it alone. Fuck him. I consider putting the double locks on the door so she can’t get back in but I don’t. I go down to the den then walk all the way up to the top floor to get my blood going so the pills work faster. I do it three times and they kick in. I’m going to sleep up here in the top bedroom because I think it’ll be weird for her to find me in her bed.
It feels lonely up here. Lonely and cold. No one comes up here much. I lay back and spot a couple of little dog poops on the floor in the corner, which makes me feel worse. Poop graveyard.
My head starts to swirl with thoughts of going back to the USA a complete failure, rejected by England. All my things end in a big nasty way that I can’t forget or forgive. My life is like the fucking titanic on a loop. I just get on a different doomed lifeboat each time. Then everything gets filed away in my massive ‘nothing works out vault.’ Whenever I try to do something good the door opens wide reminding me where I really belong, in a cold room with stale dog turds waiting for the iceberg.
I’m slowing down a spell but these Valium aren’t doing it. Jill has these suppository sleeping pills that are very strong and dangerous and she only uses them when she’s having a ‘bad case of the fits.’ Man she was right, I took one once (up my butt, I put it in, she didn’t), and I slept for twelve hours, and when I woke up I was still fucked up. That’s what I need right now. I go down and search her nightstand. I find them under some nightstand shit. I bend over and slide one of the slippery suckers so deep in my butt you’d think I was smuggling it. I read once that things work faster when they go up your butt.
As I head to the bathroom to wash my finger I begin to cry rivers, dropping tears, flooding my pants that are still at my ankles. I can’t take it anymore. There is nothing to live for, I don’t belong anywhere, I screw everything up so bad and it’s never going to change. I know it. I drop to my knees with my ass in the air and pray between gulps and waterfalls.
“Dear God, I won’t ever do this again. Please help me out of this, I’ll do anything you want of me, just please make this hurting stop. I want to live, I have stuff inside of me that won’t come out, and it’s good stuff. You know that, you made me. Why is life so damn hard? I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. I try, I think I have good intentions but they never turn out. I miss my family but I fucking hate them. Please God, I need a miracle. Please, please please.” My body is uncontrollably clenching. I hope God can see how serious this is. “Please give me a sign, God.” I’m beginning to feel the waves from the torpedo pill and it helps, it starts to redirect my focus. It softens the pain and shame. Things slow down and the voids between thoughts become longer. My body stops contorting and gives in to nothingness. My butt, that was up in the air, drops to the carpet and I roll over on to my side and get fetal. I apologize to God for praying to him with my ass.
Suddenly I don’t care about anything anymore but tears still slowly drip. I go grab the pills and struggle to get more in. I have a hard time finding the hole but launch three more. Here’s the part I love: where I have pushed a situation far beyond regular human survival and I can’t take it back. I want to challenge every belief and chemical in this and God’s world. It is a hundred times more truthful than anything out there in the world. It’s like…the gap between life and death. It doesn’t last very long but it always gives me a sense of having conquered something.
I’m wondering if I should try to get a few more pills in me but some fucking how I start to feel hungry, like crazy hungry, like eat the forbidden apple hungry. I stand up slowly and fall back down like I was dropped from the ceiling. The thud brings the dogs in and they begin to lick me like I’m bacon. I have a hard time moving my arms to ward them off so they follow me while I slither down the stairs trying to get to the refrigerator. I make it to the landing, where the bathroom is, at a slugs pace. I ooze down the last ten steps on my belly and crash in to a cabinet in the kitchen. I can’t move anymore. My fingers can barely tap the floor. I won’t stop now though, there’s something still missing. I still have more to prove. I rock my body from side to side and gain enough momentum to roll. Five rolls and I’m at the kitchen sink, well, at the cabinet below the sink. I open it latching my pinky around the handle and look inside. I am an explorer who wants more than anything to live and love but I have a death wish. I grab a bottle of bleach and manage to get the top off and tip it. As the bleach spills out I lap it up like a dying camel. The dogs sniff the bleach and run for the hills.
So there… One more thing I have done that most people haven’t - bleach licking. Ha…
“I love you Jill.” I am done. I feel as if I’m twenty feet under a dry riverbed. All light goes out.
I hear mumbles. British mumbles. Sounds like a movie. I try to open my eyes but I can’t they are stuck shut. I use my slow fingers to pry them open. I see Jill and a man looking down at me. The guy shines a light in my eyes, looks to Jill and tells her,
“I think he’s going to be alrigh
t now.” Jill clutches her heart and says,
“Oh Thank God.” They whisper parting instructions and the dude leaves. I am barely awake but notice we are in Jill’s room and I’m in her bed. I think it’s daylight beyond the curtains. I sit up slightly and groggily say hello. Jill’s face that a second ago seemed open and relieved to see me, looks guarded again.
“Hello.”
“What happened?”
“Well you made a right mess of things. Did every thing we could to keep the ambulance, police and fucking newspapers away. Thank God you woke up.”
“I can’t remember anything right now.”
“Not to worry, you’re okay that’s all that matters. I was so worried. I’ve had my doctor here the whole time. I slept upstairs, and I was here as much as I could be. I only ran out for a couple of things.”
“What time is it?”
“It is five in the afternoon.”
“Wow, I slept till five.”
“My love it is Sunday. You have been asleep since Friday night. That’s two days ago.”
“Huh, What the hell, really?” My brain starts to work. I figure out they don’t sell booze on Sunday in England. For a minute I wish it were Saturday.
“We thought you were going to die.”
“Oh man, I’m sorry. I fucked up. I love you.”
“You do?”
“Yes I do. More than this.” I attempt to open my arms but they are weak and fall back to the bed.
“You mean more than this?” and she makes wings with her arms.
“Yes, that’s what I mean.” She comes down cheek to cheek with me and hugs my head.
“I was so scared, my darling. Don’t ever do that again! Promise me right now you ever do it again. I won’t be able to live if you’re gone.” We both weep.
“I won’t, I promise,” I say strongly, but in my heart I am unsure. She holds me as tight as one would a wild cat. I am so glad she forgives me and loves me. I will do my best for her. I won’t let her down, ever. She cuddles up next to me in bed and I doze off again.