Tangents, vol 1

by Rae Agatha

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that! Stop saying you’re sorry! I mean, Christ, have you been paying attention to me chopping things in the kitchen, cutting paper with scissors, anything that might have ended with my blood splashing at you, too?”

  “No, of course not! I wasn’t even thinking about it, I swear! Come on, you know I wasn’t thinking about it, I mean, we almost had sex!”

  Monica was furious, but she knew it wasn’t because of the total failure of the special night she was looking forward to. It wasn’t that. She felt that the grudge she had been holding against Rick for the past two months was, at that moment, rapidly growing inside of her, so much she felt it was becoming more and more problematic for her to just swallow it and let it go.

  “Just – just forget about it, okay?” She finally said angrily.

  “Oh come on!” he got up and got dressed. “What the hell, Monica, are you angry at me because I don’t want to!” He stopped.

  “What, you don’t want what?!”

  “Risk it, okay?! I don’t want to take the risk! You wanna blame me for that? Fine,” he said angrily and stormed out of the bedroom.

  Monica ran after him and pulled him by the elbow. He turned around.

  “I’m not blaming you for this, damn it. Of course I understand you, Jesus!” She shouted at him.

  “Then for what?! What is it that you are blaming me for, huh!?” He started walking toward her, Monica turned around and started moving back. “No, no, wait a second, you’re not going anywhere until you tell me!” He shouted. “What is it, huh? What have I done? I’ve been with you the whole time. I’ve been taking care of you, crying with you, supporting you in every way possible. When you wanted me to go away, I went away, when you wanted me to be with you, I was –“

  “No, you weren’t, Rick, okay? You weren’t!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?!”

  “I am talking about the nineteenth of March, I am talking about the night you let me go alone to the park, because you had a chapter to finish!” He was stunned. His heart was beating like crazy, he felt the blood in his veins pulsing.

  “I asked you twice, Rick. I asked you to come with me, and you said you needed to write!” She cried out.

  “So – are you saying – are you blaming me for what happened to you?!” He said and heard his voice breaking. “Do you think I’m a fucking fortune teller, that I can predict the future? Do you think that if I had known what was about to happen, I would have let you go alone? That I would have let you go at all?!”

  “Years ago, you told me you’d protect me. That you would never let anything bad happen to me again, Rick, remember?! Here, in this bedroom, you were holding me right after I told you about Robert, and you promised me you would always be there for me.”

  He felt tears pooling in his eyes, they stung because there was no other way she could have hurt him more. He leaned on the wall, confused, trying to put his thoughts in order.

  “And now look where I am? Waiting for a verdict, if I have HIV or not,” she continued sobbing.

  “So you’re saying it’s my fault? That I somehow allowed all those things to happen to you?” He finally said quietly.

  Monica looked at him tearfully, but said nothing. He understood it was her way of confirming that.

  “Well, if that’s how you see it,” he said and looked at her sadly, “then next time you decide to be a hero and protect the innocent in the city on your own, call me, perhaps I might help you change your mind, before you shatter our lives again,” he said bitterly. He wasn’t sure if he really meant it, but the impulse of getting back at her for what she had said was stronger. Monica silently went to the bathroom and closed the door. Rick could hear her sob. He walked back to the living room, blew out the candles, put his shoes on and left the apartment.

  ***

  Rick returned home later that night. Maybe it would have made sense if he got drunk, he was considering it at one point, but he didn’t even go to a bar. He was just walking around at first and, since the evening was pleasantly warm, he took the subway, line 1, and got to Battery Park. He was walking along the George Dewey Promenade, looking at The Hudson River, peacefully glittering in the moonlight. He saw the Statue in the distance, lit, majestic. Nothing ever changes for you, does it? Rick thought. He turned around and looked at Financial District’s skyscrapers standing tall, guiding the city. He glanced at The World Trade Center, especially the North Tower where Monica would be five days a week.

  Rick was wandering around the area for some time and sat on the bench looking ahead at the river. He had no idea what to think about everything that had happened at home. He was hoping that all the things that Monica said, she said because she was angry, anxious about the test results and still refusing to come to terms with what had happened to her.

  The worst part was that he had also been wondering if perhaps he was partially to blame for what happened in March. Ever since it occurred to him that he chose something, in fact, so trivial, so unimportant (from the present-day’s perspective) as finishing a chapter over going with her, as he usually did, he kept on asking himself if he had contributed to his wife’s drama.

  The rational part of him was sure he had not. First of all, who could have predicted such a thing to happen. Secondly, he could have had the flu, or a twisted ankle and he wouldn’t go either, so it didn’t matter if it was the unfinished chapter. It was important at that time, and the best thing about it was that Monica really had nothing against his decision. She knew perfectly well that the moment he would be focused on writing, it was very difficult to get his attention on anything else, and that particular evening he had a huge need to write, he had ideas buzzing in his head, there was no way that he could have been distracted, persuaded into doing anything else.

  The emotional part of him kept on refreshing the images of Mon in hospital in his brain, kept on recalling all the conversations with the doctor, especially the very first one, when he called his cell. He remembered too well how his heart was broken into pieces when he saw Monica in that hospital bed for the first time. If there was any chance that he truly might have prevented that from happening… She was right, he did promise her she would be safe, that he would protect her.

  “Jesus Christ,” he sighed and lay on a bench. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  Rick came back home about 2:00 a.m. and automatically walked into the bedroom. Monica was sleeping with a night lamp on (it had been that way since March, she couldn’t stand being surrounded by darkness). She was breathing deeply, sleeping peacefully. Rick looked at her and left the room. He went to the closet, took out a blanket and a pillow and walked toward the sofa.

  ***

  When Rick woke up in the morning, crumpled after spending the night in the living room, he saw that Monica was already in the kitchen, dressed up and ready to go to work. He got up, came closer to her and wanted to hug her, but she only shuddered. He sat by the kitchen island and was looking at her. Monica finally turned around.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she asked him.

  “In the city, by the Dewey Promenade.”

  “By the Dewey Promenade, well isn’t that just sweet,” she snapped at him.

  “What -?”

  “How could you just walk out like that and not even let me know where you were! I was terrified that something happened to you!”

  “I – I’m sorry. My phone went dead, and I fell asleep on a bench, I wasn’t planning on going back so late.”

  “Hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

  “Well, when I came back, I did not exactly see you waiting for me and going out of your mind, Monica. It looked to me you were pretty fast asleep,” he said angrily.

  “Yeah, do what you want, seriously,” she replied harshly and went to the front door to put the shoes on and leave to work.

  “Monica, come on. What are we doing?” He followed her.

  “I can tell you what I’m do
ing. I’m trying to find a balance in my life, okay? I am trying to learn to move on, I am—”

  “This is it! This is exactly it!”

  “What?”

  “I asked you what we were doing, and you’re giving me the whole list of what you are doing.”

  Monica looked at him coldly, but he thought he finally had a chance to say once and for all what he felt. If she was to feel offended, so be it.

  “Mon, what I’m saying is that despite all the trauma you’ve been through, which I understand and believe me, I’ve been through it with you, you’ve been so focused on your pain and your harm, you don’t see that I’m here, too, and that I am also suffering.”

  She scoffed.

  “Yeah, that’s right, I am here, too, Monica!” he said firmly, angered by her reaction. “I have been here, and I will always be, to comfort you, to help you in any way I can, but I was completely left alone in this situation, and I’ve had major problems dealing with it myself. Yeah, that’s right, it hasn’t left me yet either.

  I couldn’t find any peace at home when you were in hospital. I couldn’t sleep, I beat up some kid in the bar, I had no idea how to behave around you when you came back. I’ve been living through it, experiencing everything that has happened to you, because, guess what, it has actually happened to us.” He was poking her chest with his index finger, “I kept on asking myself if I am responsible for your pain, trying to handle the sense of guilt, because, although it might be difficult for you to imagine, I have thought of it. And you know what? I’ve been with this all by myself. Nobody’s been there to listen to me, to talk to me. So yeah, I went to the city, to look at the river, to calm my thoughts, to sort them. Doesn’t it show you how lonely I feel with all this? I’ve been waiting for the right time to talk to you about it, to tell you how I was feeling, once you were able to look at everything outside your box, but it turns out, you’re just blaming me for what has happened… How do you think it makes me feel, Monica?”

  Monica was looking at him tensely. He could tell she was no longer angry, rather flabbergasted. She had no idea what to say, how to react, it was obvious she had never thought of it all in that way. Finally, she took her purse and walked toward the door.

  “I need to go to work, Rick. See you later,” she said and left.

  He stood there alone in the apartment, wearing only his underwear, looking at the door wondering how they were going to deal with this unholy mess.

  VII

  In the coming days, they both felt they had nothing to say to the each other. Never during the ten years they had spent together had they had a similar crisis. Of course they’d had fights from time to time, but this was different. Now their interaction was only to exchange random information with each other concerning what needed to be bought at the grocer’s or where certain things were at home. Rick was sleeping on the sofa every night, sometimes he would just go out late in the evening and spend almost the entire night walking around the city. He had noticed that whenever he would spot a single woman walking the streets at night, he’d instinctively worry about her making it safely home.

  About ten days after they had their fight, Monica made the decision to go away for two weeks to Miami. She said she needed to change her environment, catch some sunshine, and relax. She made it very clear right from the beginning she wanted to go alone. Rick had no choice but to accept that and wait for her to come back. In June it was his time to travel; he went to LA to meet with the producers of the film based on his book and Monica refused to go with him. As a result, they didn’t see each other for almost a month. He had never believed that such a thing as one of his biggest dreams coming true would turn out to be such a bitter-sweet moment for him. They were supposed to go together, sightseeing the Golden State, and meeting the cast. And there he was, alone in the hotel, exchanging some short, purely informational text messages with Monica and feeling no joy over what was going on because she wasn’t there with him.

  The worst thing was that he wanted to break this madness. Rick had reached out to her a few times, asking her, pleading with her to let it go, to allow them to talk, but Monica declined each time. She would only tell him she needed time and that she would tell him when she was ready to talk. Rick even proposed a therapist, but she said she didn’t need one. He said that they needed one. No, that wasn’t the way she wanted their problems to be solved. Rick believed that apparently Moricka was suspended indefinitely.

  On July 13th 2001, Monica informed Rick she was going out for a beer with people from work and that she would be back late. He called Marty to ask him out, but he already had plans with Alice’s family. Later that evening, he ended up in Battery Park again, sitting on a bench and looking at the river. It was a surprisingly cool night for summer time in New York, so he put on his flannel shirt he had taken with him, buttoned up and, while looking ahead, was trying to figure out what to do.

  Chapter 4

  They had no idea how much time passed nor how many miles they walked, but the road seemed to be endless. There was literally nobody around, it was as if they were the only people on the planet. Not a single car passed them, not a single person did they see.

  “What do you think happened here?” Rick said as they were approaching the part of the road that was surrounded by trees. They were entering the woods again, only this time they were walking along a sandy road, wide enough for two cars to pass each other without any problems.

  “What do you mean?” Dan asked.

  “Well, someone must live here, or at least they must have. The road,the fields with wheat, the grass. I mean, the fields look as if they were abandoned years ago, it’s overgrown with weeds, the grass on the other side of the road looks pretty wild, too. I have no idea if it was ever meant to be anybody’s lawn, there are no houses anywhere, but it seems like it hasn’t been mown for many, many years. I mean, all of this must have been created, designed by some people, but it all looks neglected.”

  “And there are no other signs of any civilization; no trash on the road or in the woods, not a stupid empty plastic bottle, no chewing gum paper,” Anna said. She was walking behind them, tired and thirsty. From time to time she would touch her lips which were now completely dry and chapped. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad we’re entering the forest again, it was unbearable to walk in the scorching sun.”

  “Have you ever seen such big trees?” Dan asked.

  They all instinctively looked up. The trees were, indeed, gigantic. The majority of this part of the forest was covered with sequoias, which looked more like mountains than trees. They were so wide, that it would probably take minimum ten, perhaps fifteen people to embrace them. Not to mention they were incredibly high. They were monstrous.

  “Where are we?” Rick whispered.

  “Guys, I can’t go any further,” Anna said and sat on the ground.

  Rick and Dan turned around and came to her.

  “Come on, we need to go,” Dan said.

  “I’m exhausted. I need to rest, I need water, I need to eat something.”

  “No, you need to keep on walking,” Rick said and reached out his hand to help her get up.

  “And go where exactly?” Anna asked looking up at him.

  “Somewhere – else,” Rick said. “How should I know? All I’m saying is that you can’t sit here in the middle of the road.”

  “Well, it’s not like anything might hit her,” Dan said looking around, they looked at him and snorted with laughter.

  “Rick, we have no idea where we’re going.”

  “No, but who knows, I mean, somewhere out there, there could be people who might help us.”

  “Don’t you think they’d show up by now? I mean, there are no buildings, no shops, no cars, no bicycles, no fucking carriages even, nothing. Not a living soul. If there are people here, where are they hiding?” Dan asked.

  “I know we need to go, I know, just give me one second, okay?” Anna said. “I mean it’s not like we need to g
et somewhere on time, is it?”

  Dan and Rick looked at each other and they sat next to her.

  “I’m quite tired myself, to be frank,” Dan said.

  “Me, too, it’s just that I don’t think sitting might help us,” Rick muttered.

  “It won’t hurt,” Dan replied and lay down on the road.

  There was almost perfect silence around them. The only sounds were trees moving above them, pushed by the wind, and some birds singing high up above them. Nothing else. Rick lay down as well. They were silent for some time, only looking around. The wheat fields and grass were now behind them, they were able to watch it bend slightly stroked by the gentle wind. The absolute silence surrounding them was soothing and unsettling at the same time - two feelings that would naturally seem to be contradictory. Ahead of them was the dense forest, filled with majestic, gloomy sequoias and lower dense trees. It made them all feel trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea.