Body of Immorality

by Brandon Berntson

  This was Hell. This was worse than death. This was worse than Hell.

  I could cheat on you now, he thought. But he knew the words, like the darkness behind his lids, were empty. I could beat you now, if only you’d let me. If only you’d give me a chance. I can do those things and more. I know I can.

  What he should’ve done was cut out his ears, make himself deaf. He should’ve taken the welder and sealed them shut. That would’ve been bliss. That would’ve been perfect.

  Maybe, he thought. Just maybe…In the time she’s away, I’ll find a way to melt my ears shut, seal up my nose...

  It was good to hope.

  It was good to dream.

  Pieces of Destiny

  Franklin Bonner’s life changed drastically when he met Sarah Radcliffe. Love only began to scratch the surface. Rapture danced through every molecule of his being, every pore, blood vessel, and blackhead. Mom always told him someone out there was meant especially for him, only Franklin had never believed it.

  Then came Sarah.

  Fairy powder fell to his shoulders. Visions of romance danced through his brain, palatial kingdoms. Was it possible to feel more alive? he thought.

  His life had taken grim detours along the way, so love was welcome. His father had walked out when Franklin was twelve. His mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer shortly afterwards and died a year later. They hadn’t caught it in time. Franklin went to live with his Uncle Walt and Aunt Hillary in Oregon until he was eighteen. Then he’d moved back to Denver. For six years, he took odd jobs around the city, never fully satisfied. He thought about moving back to Oregon again. He didn’t know what had brought him back to Denver, if only to honor the memory of his mother, but he didn’t enjoy the city. During his stay, he’d walked in and out of failed relationships.

  Then Sarah came along….

  She couldn’t have come at a better time. Just when he thought of giving up, of throwing it all away, Sarah had saved him. Angels did live on earth, Franklin realized. He even considered popping that all important, life-changing question.

  Winning the Super Bowl, the Nobel Prize, must feel similar, he thought. Thousands of lightening blue watts of electricity charged Franklin’s veins. A righteous wave of pity washed over him for everyone who wasn’t in love. If he could dispense these feelings, he would. He had more than enough to go around. It didn’t seem fair to feel so good while everyone else seemed so hopelessly starved for romance. True love, for most, seemed forever out of reach, after all. For the first time in twenty-four years, Franklin Bonner had discovered love’s true bliss. It did exist. His life—Sarah—proved it.

  During the late, warm spring of 2008, Franklin—like a second grader—ran down the sunny avenues of Denver, Colorado kicking up his heels. Pigeons took to the sky, paving the way for him. People looked at him, shaking their heads in envy. Or was it disgust? If he weren’t careful—because of the city—someone would probably shoot him.

  He was popcorn and candy, a child experiencing his first carnival ride or circus event. Joy made his chest warm. No one else bounced with that same step, that same jocular tone in his or her voice. Why did it seem he was the only one smiling?

  “Sarah,” Franklin said aloud, not caring how he sounded or who was listening. “Salvation too sweet to be simply sublime. Sarah, my darling dear. My Clementine.”

  He could enunciate poetry whenever the mood struck. Sarah Radcliffe was a tyrannical beauty, usurping him from the humdrum of everyday existence. He and Sarah had been destined to unite since stars exploded across the sky. The bookstore visit, where they’d met, had been fateful. A mystical force, he realized, had been guiding him even then.

  Something about the sadness of the world, Franklin thought. Good things were bound to happen to some people. Ruin and harmony intertwined when lovers met. He loved simply thinking about her.

  Sarah was a stunning, ghostly beauty. Her hair was like sable waves of midnight, striking blue eyes, creamy skin like buttermilk. He loved the way her lithe arms and soft hands moved up and around his neck. Franklin was a puppet, and Sarah pulled the strings.

  Yes, dear. Of course, dear. Anything you say, dear. Just let me gaze forever at you, dear.

  As with many relationships, however, difficulties arose. Franklin wasn’t worried, however. They knew each other well enough by now. How long had they been dating? He couldn’t remember. He tried building up the nerve to ask her—not to marry him—but to relocate to Oregon. He’d been fretting about it for several days now. He wondered how he would ask her, what her reaction would be.

  He’d always been close to his Aunt Hilary and Uncle Walter. Walter was his mother’s brother. Franklin realized he longed for Oregon again. He’d discussed it over the phone with them, and they were just as excited. The city had been fun and entertaining for a while, but it wasn’t for him anymore, Franklin had said. His aunt and uncle agreed.

  The idea, much like Sarah, gave him a renewed sense of life.

  Was that the definition of Destiny?

  Walter, too, said he could line up some prospects for Franklin. Denver wasn’t doing Franklin or Sarah any good, Hilary had told him. People were shot and killed everyday for no reason, babies left in dumpsters, sex and drugs on every street corner. How could anyone stand it, she’d asked? Franklin wanted to tell her Denver wasn’t New York or Los Angeles, but he’d held his tongue.

  “Can I bring, Sarah?” Franklin had said, the phone pressed to his ear.

  “I didn’t know you were serious, Franklin,” Walter had said.

  “Yes. We’ve been pretty serious for a while.”

  “She’s okay coming out?”

  “Yes. But, I don’t want to—”

  “I think it would be great, Franklin. Hilary could use another gal to talk to.”

  He’d talked to Hilary as well:

  “Well, the city is just terrible, Franklin,” she’d said. “All that violence and crime and dirty air! All those cars and people! I understand how you feel. I’d love to have someone help me in the garden. Is she there with you? Can I talk to her? We never had kids, you know, Franklin? Is she there?”

  “I’m afraid not. But you’ll meet her. You’ll like her, Auntie.”

  Aunt Hilary giggled. She liked it when Franklin called her Auntie.

  Love, it seemed, was coming out of the woodwork! It poured through the air in a flash flood! It structured the road ahead! All he had to do was keep walking.

  Franklin anticipated the flight to Portland with glee. He and Sarah would begin their life together, taking in Oregon’s paradise. He wondered how good the fishing was.

  Skipping down Logan Avenue with his apartment just ahead, Franklin thought about walking hand in hand with Sarah along Oregon’s coast lines, the sun going down behind the ocean, seagulls dipping toward the water. He thought about pulling the ring out and asking her to marry him. It seemed appropriate, perfect even. The streets of Denver were happy for him, despite him having to say goodbye. No hard feelings, the streets seemed to say. It’s springtime. Was there a better time to be in love?

  *

  Something was different about her, though. The girl sitting next to him was not the Sarah Franklin knew.

  Was it them, their relationship? Had he expected that spark to last forever? Where was that golden aurora, never changing?

  Franklin felt like a character in a stranger’s dream. He looked around for that other Sarah, the one he’d fallen in love with, but she was nowhere around.

  It was warm out, 10:00 am on a Tuesday in late May. The sky was bright blue with white gossamer clouds. Cars sped back and forth in front of them on Speer Boulevard. Sparrows chirped and dipped in the air, flocking in nearby trees, then took to the sky again. A middle-aged couple glistened in sweat as they jogged by with two black Labradors on leashes. The female jogger smiled at Franklin and nodded, but Franklin ignored her.

  He and Sarah sat side by side on a green park bench. Sarah was dressed appropriately for the weather
in dark blue shorts, tennis shoes, and a matching snug shirt. Her hair was in a ponytail. She was staring at the gutter with an expression Franklin couldn’t read. Five minutes ago, he’d asked her about moving to Oregon, but for some reason, Sarah was acting strange. She had a life here, she’d told him.

  Franklin was devastated.

  “I don’t understand,” Franklin said, in desperation. “I thought you’d be excited! Away from this. Oregon is everything people dream of! And if it’s not, we can always come back. I promise, Sarah! Please! We can give it a shot! Okay?”

  “Franklin, please,” Sarah said.

  He was spellbound, dumbstruck. He didn’t know who this girl was, this Sarah. He didn’t recognize her. His heart bled, breaking in two. Hadn’t he been soaring with love only minutes ago? Weren’t those his wings to fly?

  Baffled, Franklin sat on the bench looking for the ‘other’ Sarah. Maybe she was across the street getting a sandwich in a nearby deli. Maybe she was stepping out of a cab over there by the television station. The Sarah sitting next to him now was not the one he’d fallen in love with, the girl he’d met at the bookstore.

  He hated himself for crying, but he couldn’t help it suddenly. His eyes glossed with tears. He combed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. His clean-shaven chin trembled with emotion. She was so goddamn pretentious, the tone she’d used! Everything he felt, all he’d done! How could she do this to him?

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Sarah said. “I’m not leaving. I’ve made a life here, Franklin! Don’t you get it? There’s nothing for me in Oregon, for God’s sake.”

  Hadn’t they discussed this before? Hadn’t she agreed? Could he have imagined it? They were meant to be together! The stars said so! They even looked similar, the same fair skin and dark hair. They could’ve been brother and sister! She’d said she loved him! How long ago was that? How come she couldn’t see their love the way he did?

  Franklin sniffed back tears.

  “But there’s so much,” he tried to say. “That’s the point.”

  Sarah shook her head, watching the cars going by on Speer Boulevard. Why was she so defiant suddenly? Her body language troubled him: legs stretched out in front of her, arms across her chest. She looked at the cars as if wanting to set them on fire.

  Taking a deep breath, Sarah turned, uncrossed her arms, and looked at Franklin, as though she wanted to set him on fire.

  “My life is here, Franklin,” Sarah said, firmly. “You know that. I’m going to school and working for the magazine now. It’s everything I’ve been wanting to do. What would I leave for? My life isn’t recklessly meaningless like yours. Go,” she told him. “Move. The change will be good. You need it!”

  Her words were molten lead. They sank into the pit of his gut. Franklin virtually doubled-over, holding onto his stomach like she’d stabbed him. The pain was white hot. She had set him on fire after all.

  “But I told them you were coming!” Franklin virtually bawled. “I told them how well we’ve been getting along! Do you have any idea what this will do to them?”

  The expression on Sarah’s face was one he’d never seen before. The blood drained from her cheeks. Ferocity came into her eyes: shock, disbelief, and yes…even horror.

  “You told them I was coming?” she said. “Good God, Franklin, how could you do such a thing? You hardly even know me! We only met a couple of months ago! How could you have said that? Are you insane? What in God’s name is the matter with you? Who in the hell do you think you are?”

  He could not reply. Again, her words were like blasts from a cannon. It took all his focus not to wail like a baby.

  Franklin mimed her previous expression, watching the cars go by. He opted for anger because the tears were coming freely now. He was growing tired of her abuse.

  “I thought everything was going fine,” he said, as if to himself. “I thought we were getting along. I didn’t think you’d not want to come. It’s just…me, I guess, jumping to conclusions. I’m sorry, Your Highness. How you can stay here is beyond my comprehension. This city! God forbid! What’s so good about it? God knows I’d want to blemish your castle, this perfectly criminal paradise!”

  That ought to make her feel like shit, he thought. He held onto his reserve while still coloring his words with rancor.

  “It’s not that bad, Franklin,” Sarah said, in defense of the city. “I happen to like it here.”

  This sudden twist of fate was beyond his comprehension. Could anything be more unfair? It was everything he hadn’t imagined, the exact opposite of how he thought it would be! He’d never felt so humiliated, so dejected and stupid in his life. Franklin held onto his stomach willing away the sensation he was going to throw up.

  Sarah didn’t sympathize. His love meant nothing to her.

  “But why?” he said. “What’s there to possibly like?”

  “It’s exciting,” Sarah said. She smiled, looking at the scenery, the apartment complexes, the nearby park, the hurrying bustle and activity. “I don’t understand how you can’t see it, Franklin. There’s so much to offer!” She nodded, as if that explained everything.

  “It’s a cesspool,” he criticized. “Brimming with vile sin and contamination.”

  “Franklin,” Sarah said, laughing. She looked at him. “You’re so naïve.”

  The fire jumped from one to the other. Franklin delivered Sarah a look of poison; it made Sarah flinch.

  “You smug, self-righteous wench!” he said. “Think you’re better than everyone, huh? Working your way into publishing! Prissy college snot! Have to establish the importance of your existence, don’t you? ‘Sarah Radcliffe, ladies and gentleman,’” he said, mocking her. “‘All independent woman! The world would be a better place if you shut your mouth and listen to what she has to say! Heaven forbid she’s ever made a mistake! How could you! Bold, spirited woman!’

  “You make me sick!” he went on. “Just because you have tits doesn’t make you better than everyone else. Condescension and pretentiousness aren’t the same as intelligence. Why don’t you try acting like a fucking lady for a change? There’s strength in femininity, you know? You think Ingrid Bergman is remembered for her mannish qualities!”

  Sarah’s former defiance returned. She stretched her legs out and folded her arms. Making him laugh, she even pouted, sticking out her bottom lip.

  “Don’t pretend you know me at all, Franklin,” she said, determined to make a stand. “How can you? If anyone knows anything, I know you. You’re easy to figure out. Don’t think you know me because you don’t. Got it? Don’t pretend you know anything about me!”

  Franklin was furious! Blood boiled in his veins, pumping loudly in his ears.

  “You impudent concubine!” he said, standing from the bench in fury, not caring how he looked now. Heedless of the stares, he pointed an accusing finger at Sarah as though wanting to stab her.

  “You’ve got nerve, don’t you? How male of me to be so un-submissive to your power! What on earth came over me? That’s the driving force today isn’t it? Equality? Men are always the ones making mistakes and apologizing. Women are always in charge, emasculating the masses. There’s nothing attractive about that. You’re what’s wrong with the world, people like you, and everyone like you, Sarah high-and-mighty Radcliffe! You think you’re smarter than everybody else? I tried to give you a life, something beautiful, and this is the thanks I get?”

  Franklin surprised himself by laughing uproariously. He shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes.

  “Pray to the flawless and perfect, everyone!” Franklin said, motioning to the passersby. “Not God! He can’t do it! But Sarah will! Sarah can do no wrong!’”

  Franklin paused for breath and pointed again. Sarah looked shocked, furious, and humiliated. People paused and looked their way.

  “Let me remind you, honey,” Franklin said, “You exude the same discharge, urine, sweat, and blood as everyone else. And until you learn to act like a lady, don’t expe
ct that gentleman to come along. It goes both ways!”

  He had to stop! He was breathing heavily, running away with himself. He was saying things he couldn’t take back. She’d never forgive him. What was he thinking? Yet, it was too late now. He didn’t care if he hurt her or made her cry. He wasn’t done. Part of him, in fact, was enjoying the charade.

  “You’re going to Oregon whether you like it or not,” he said, still pointing his finger. “God knows why I’d want you there to begin with after the crap you just pulled. That’s a promise you can count on, missy! So let me give you one piece of advice: Start. Fucking. Packing!”

  Sarah started to cry. It made Franklin feel better at least. Maybe she’d understand what she’d done, how she’d made him feel.

  Satisfied, Franklin grunted, balled his hands into fists, and stomped away down the street.

  *

  The scene played over in Franklin’s mind: the look on her face, the testimony to her mightiness! Did she not understand what happened that day at the bookstore, looking over the mystery section at her, stars coming into focus? Had their magnetism been lust and nothing more? Had he imagined it when Sarah pulled Othello from the shelf, rifled through the pages, and quoted, “‘O God that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! That we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!’”

  Her quoting Shakespeare was perfection, magic in an otherwise hostile environment. Franklin wanted to prove destiny had a hand in their relationship. How could they heal the sad and afflicted if they were constantly at war with one another?

  He’d always been fond of Shakespeare, especially Othello. Surprised, Sarah had given him her number that day. He’d called her that very night.

  Everything had been perfect. Not a flaw was visible. Theirs was the perfect romance. They talked; they dined; they took long walks, saw movies together. It was a fantasy, he realized. He and Sarah could conquer anything. Wasn’t that the definition of Destiny?