Even though Mr. Ed told himself to never come clean, it seemed that he was doing just that. After discussing how his predicament with those two bad elements was magically solved, the conversation had turned to women and wives.
*
Mr. Ed and Lela stayed together because of appearance and convenience, but ultimately out of a fear of ending up alone.
“I’d rather keep paying her as my wife, than the prospect of ending up all alone,” Mr. Ed said, “I talked it through with an old buddy of mine once who tried to convince me to break it off. That night when I closed my eyes I had this dream in which I saw myself in a cheap hotel, obese, with shot veins, surrounded by empty trays of frozen dinners and empty bottles of beer and other booze. In that puddle I sat all liquored up with cheap whiskey (the one that’s better used to clean windows) and on my lap I had a loaded shotgun. Even my dog had left me.”
“Good Bye Charlie,” Marty said, “You obviously never reached that point where things turn beyond sour. My ex was such a pain that even that would have seemed the better prospect.”
“I bet you weren’t married for twenty-plus years,” Mr. Ed says, “Come to think of it…. neither was that guy who advised me to end it. The thing is this: it just isn’t black and white; it’s all so vastly grey that you can’t see shit.”
1
Shane had been asking Phyllis for weeks to hit the nightlife on the weekend. She kept throwing her off with stories of being too busy, while in fact she simply wasn’t in the mood. Finally she caved in.
On Saturday at nine they met downtown for a late night dinner. It was busy all over town, mostly locals and some tourists here and there. They shared a bottle of wine and talked the talk. They went over their usual bucket list. Relationships; theirs, others, and when either of these will break under pressure. It’s mostly gossip obviously and most of it comes down to who likes who.
It leaves Phyllis with this understanding of what was unique about her friendship with Jep, Tony, Frankie and Jim. Looking at the number of years the span of her friendship with Shane is almost the same as her friendship with the boys, but it just doesn’t have the intensity of a friendship that started in childhood.
Shane is a great friend, because they can be of the same mind, but it’s also Shane who is more impulsive —it always makes Phyllis feel that’s how she was herself when she was part of the gang. It makes her feel as if she somehow lost that part of herself. By the time the bottle is empty they both conclude that they’re free gals.
After dinner they hit a touristy night club.
*
A little after midnight they leave for something better: the music was becoming much of the same thing and the crowd was thinning out.
“The Docks,” Shane says when they are outside.
“Just us two gals?” Phyllis asks, “Why The Docks?”
“I don’t know,” Shane says, “I got this itch.”
“One drink,” Phyllis says, “Then we leave.”
“One,” she says, and she holds up her finger in an I swear,“I promise.”
*
On some subconscious level Shane must have known what she was in for, because it wasn’t exactly a place where women tended to go on their own. The docks were a rough area, with crummy bars, bad characters and criminal activity ranging from being able to buy unregistered guns to coke and everything in between.
It literally got more grim when they exited the last metro station. There weren’t many people around, except for the occasional dealer or pimp that hung around just outside the beam of street lights.
“Remind me why we’re here again?” Phyllis says.
“One drink.”
Phyllis rolls her eyes.
Shane walks them to the same bar that they visited after New Year’s. They take a seat in one of the booths and they order two sparkly’s.
“I had a hunch,” Shane says, “And I think I’m not mistaken: take a look over at the bar.”
“A cowboy….” Phyllis says, and it comes to her: “Thecowboy….”
“Aha.”
“How did you know?”
“I didn’t,” Shane says, “It was after midnight when we came from that club.”
“And you didn’t tell me, because you were sure that I wouldn’t have come.”
“I didn’t tell you, because I wasn’t sure.”
“Aha,” Phyllis says, “So now what?”
Shane is plotting their next move.
“We can’t confront him,” Shane says, “He’ll just deny everything.”
“If he remembers us at all….”
Shane is still thinking it over.
“Believe me: if he’s dirty he remembers every detail of that night.”
“So you want to talk to him….”
“I do.”
“And you’re sure we won’t get in trouble….”
“This is a public place,” Shane says, “Kind of, at least.”
“Just go get a drink and make yourchit-chat….”
Shane does, but she doesn’t know what to make of it. From the cowboy’s behavior she can’t figure out whether he remembers her from that night or that she reminds him of someone else, or that he remembers her at all.
“You must be the only cowboy on Rokset Island,” Shane says, in an attempt to start a conversation.
“There are more,” the guy says, and in an unsettlingvoice, “But we only come out at night….”
“Okay then,” Shane says, and since the cowboy’s demeanor isn’t exactly welcoming, she decides that it’s better to back off.
Shane walks back to their booth and she gives Phyllis the update.
“Sohebasically just freaked you out….”
“Maybe, but I saw some of his cards….” Shane says, “If he didn’t do something bad on New Year’s, he definitely did it at a later time.”
“Huh,” Phyllis says, “So what are you saying?”
“We need to follow this guy….” Shane says, “And find out where he lives….”
This time Phyllis doesn’t roll her eyes, but she isn’t too eager to go on a roll like this. She always liked the impulsive strike of Shane, because it got her into a lot of fun – but this time it might turn into something else.
“You’re joking, right?” Phyllis says.
“Even if he does remember me —he must have figured that we were just two lowly tourists,” Shane says, “If he’s guilty, I don’t believe that he even bothered to change his routine….”
2
At three a.m. sharp the cowboy gets up and gets out. Shane gets up right after, and thirty seconds after that Phyllis follows.
“So how exactly is this gonna end good?” Phyllis whispers, when she joys Shane on the street, “Do you even know where this guy went?”
“Look,” she says and she points in the distance, towards the end of the street. They see the guy with the cowboy hat disappear from under a street light. His shadow is the last to go.
“At least we know that he’s no vampire….”
“We gotta move,” Shane says, briskly.
*
The girls have no new leads by the time they reached the spot where they saw the cowboy disappear into the dead of the night. Before they have a chance to lament on what has happened, a hand closes over both of their mouths and they are pulled into the dark.
“Why are you following me?” the cowboy whispers coolly.
“What do you mean?” Shane whispers in a scared voice.
“The coy small-talk, but underneath I could smell the fear of both of you.”
“You’re confusing us with someone else,” Phyllis says.
“I’m not confused….” the cowboy says. He tries to jug his memories, but nothing comes up.
Phyllis and Shane think: this is it.
“I’d better not see you two again,” the cowboy whispers. In a split second he lets go of them and he’s gone.
“What just happened?” Phyllis whispers.
Sssshh.
“I didn’t even hear in which direction he went,” Shane says, “It’s like he just slithered away into the night.”
“A cowboy that slithers,” Phyllis says, “Doesn’t exactly fit the profile….”
No comments:
Post a Comment