Life So Perfect
Page 14
“Yeah. We should. We’d better stay here. But what the hell, my little Indian friend, let’s go. Get your coat and mine. We’ll take your motor … motor … your bike. We’ll freeze our lovin’ nuts off in this weather. But yeah, we will go and wish to Maddie-Maddie a happy-happy New Ear. Year. I think I love her. Did you know that? I lover her. Warm up your fragging motor- sickle. She’ll be waiting for us. Yeah, that’s right. Wondering why we ain’t there yet. Let’s goooo.”
***
Steven’s motorcycle idled with great impatience as it sat in front of a large and forbidding iron gate. Joe tapped his friend’s head and said, “This ain’t right. She doesn’t live here. Couldn’t. She said she lived on the west side. Told ya you were going the wrong way. This’s where the big fat farting millionaires live. And this a fortress meant to keep the likes of you and me out. You put the flippin’ wrong address in the Google-find-it thingy?”
Steven grabbed Joe’s smart phone from his hand, studied it, and then showed it to Joe. “Yeah. This is it. Look. It’s a couple of houses down to the left. Hey, I’ve never seen such big houses. I knew she was rich bitch. Must be nice. Someday I’ll be rich and I’ll live here.”
“Yeah right. Not to be rude but how many rich Indians do you know?”
Steven stuck his elbow hard in Joe’s ribcage. “That is the White man’s doing. Oppressors, murderers, treaty breakers, liars cheaters … ‘
“Get over it. You got your casinos anyhoo. Getting back at Whites by getting us addicted to gambling and taking … oh geez, my head. Crap!” Joe slid off the bike. He reached some bushes just as he threw up. “I’m not feeling too good. Damn it. You were right Steve, should’ve stayed home. Bad bad idea. Let’s go back. Oh … oh man.” He threw up again.
“Too late to turn back now. Passed the point of no going back.” Steven rolled his bike behind thick bushes to the left of the gate. “Come on. We’ll wait, get you sobered up a bit, then when someone drives up, we’ll sneak in behind them. Walk right in after they turn the corner.”
“Terrible plan. Probably be shot. Probably cameras all over the place. Dumb idea. Go home is what we should … I better sit down.” Joe sat down and leaned against the cold brick wall and buried his head in his knees; he had no energy to tell Steven to shut up and endured Steven’s pitiful rendition of Jingle Bells.
Twenty minutes later Steven kicked Joe’s foot and said, in what felt to be a head splitting scream, “Hey! Quick! Here comes a car.” Steven knelt beside Joe as a BMW pulled up to the entrance and waited as the mighty iron gate creaked and groaned as it slowly, if not reluctantly, swayed open. Steven whispered, “Perfect. Go when I go. And move your drunk ass quick or the gate will squash you to death.” Steven laughed. “And that would make an ugly bloody mess. And then I’ll be in trouble for bringing ya here and getting you killed. Get up. Get up. Let’s go. Now!”
***
“My God! It’s a … a castle.” Steven glanced back at Joe who stood three steps behind him. He looked again at the huge house and whistled. He had to go in this home, had to see it. See how rich people live. I knew she was a rich little bitch, but look at this.
Steven heard Joe whining, “Come on, this is crazy. And I’m too sober to do this now. It’s been fun but we need to go home. God, how we supposed to get out of here? Let’s go. Steve! We got to get …”
Steven tuned Joe moans out and walked toward the driveway of Maddie’s home. His head shook and he let out a prolonged whistle as he pointed toward the three-story, Tudor-style home encased by two gargantuan oak trees on either side. “Wow. Look at this house. And, oh my God! Look at all those cars. Come on Joe! What are ya waiting for? Yip! They’re having a real party. This is so cool. Come on, we can join it. We’ll tell ‘em Maddie invited us.”
Joe shouted, “Nooo! God, no way! We’re not crashing their party.”
Steven motioned Joe to come as he walked further down the long U-shaped driveway. He pointed to a different car with each step and called out the make of every car he passed. His screeching declarations drowned out Joe’s continued demands for him to come back down the drive and leave the estate. “Lexus, Merc, Beamer, Lexus, Hummer, Hummer. Merc. Beamer, Merc. Hey! Look at this, a Porsche.” Steven looked back and waved Joe to come. Joe shook his head. “Whatever!” He shouted. Joe was not going to spoil things now. Here he is, surrounded by success, by happiness, by dreams that he’d ever only seen on television. He had to soak in the feel, the smell, the touch of things he’d never been close to, things that never seemed real, seemed too good to be real. He had to get in that house. Why shouldn’t he? Why not? Steven reached the end of the drive walked up the steps leading to an oversized stained-glass door. He pushed his ear against the cold glass of the door and listened. The sound of people talking and laughing made his smile. Suddenly the chatter and laughter stopped, and notes from a piano began to create sounds he never heard before – seductive and sad and haunting. This sort of music belonged in symphony halls or in churches – or in mansions like this; music too beautiful, too dignified for anywhere else. He deserved to be inside. He rang the doorbell three times, then knocked hard on the door that should’ve been hanging in a church, not in someone’s house.
A minute later, the door slowly opened. Steven stared at a woman in a full-length silky cream dress, which touched the floor. Its thin straps accentuated pale and soft shoulders. The woman stood speechless, looking intently at Steven. He couldn’t quite read her expression, but in his stomach stirred some odd and undefined emotion – guilt or embarrassment, or was it sadness? Suddenly he was aware of who he was: dark skinned, Native American, hair tangled and matted by the thirty-minute motorcycle ride. A poor, homeless, fatherless, crazy kid. Everyone knew – he was crazy, poor, ugly, brown kid.
The woman took in a slow breath before she spoke; words came out in a kind and caring manner. “Hmm. Are you that friend of Maddie? The one who called last week?” Steven nodded. “The one she went to help on Christmas day?”
Steven nodded again and his mouth gaped as he looked up and down at this almost heavenly figure; he had never seen anyone adorned in such a radiant and elegant fashion. He pointed to the woman and said. “You Maddie’s mom? She invited us to the party.” He pointed back to Joe standing at the end of the driveway.
“Did she now?” Judith stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door behind her. “I tell you what young man. Go around to the side of the house, follow the walkway until you see a white door. You may wait there. Quietly wait. Maddie will be finished in a little bit. Now, I’ll let her say hello, but then you must be off.” Steven nodded and motioned Joe to come forward. “And son, if her father sees you … if he discovers you’re here, well, do not tell him it was I who told you to wait or indeed that you have spoken with me. Do you understand?”
“Yes indeed. No problem. Secrets are safe with me. Never saw that most beautiful woman in the world with perfect blue eyes, and silky brown hair I want to run my hand through. Never saw her.”
She smiled and carefully slipped back through the door.
***
Joe stopped as they walked down the dark walkway by the side of the house and listened. He recognized the piano piece from somewhere – haunting, emotional, beautiful. He remembered; his music teacher played this piece in his music appreciation class during freshman year – an elective he took because it was an easy ‘A.’ He’d pretended to be bored and later complained with his football buddies about having to listen to such boring garbage. He’d put his head on his desk – to hide tears that started to fill his eyes; how shameful that any music would grab his soul and stir emotions he wasn’t supposed to have. Debussy. It was Debussy’s Clair De Lune. Through the window and drapes loosely drawn, he could see Maddie perched at a shiny grand piano; her black dress, snug and skimpy, highlighted her pleasing full-figured frame. Bangs, now pink and blue, hung defiantly across half her face. With her back poised straight and tall and arms confidently stretched out, her hand
s and fingers glided effortlessly across the piano. She invited, no, commanded Debussy to live again. Tears slid down Joe’s cheeks; music so delicate and yet so full of life; a soft breeze warming his hardened soul and heart. Life can be and should be beautiful. This was not the girl in horn-rimmed glasses, whose scars declared self-hatred and a fear to be. Why had this girl pretended to be less than she was? Lies; she believed the lies that self-loathing thrives on. At that moment, he knew that he could love her – no, he did love her. When the last notes of Debussy’s heart and soul faded, cruel reality stuck with a heartless declaration; she could never love me. “Let’s just go. Home. Right now. This is crazy. I’m going home.” Joe turned to leave.
Steven grabbed Joe’s coat. “Hell no. Come on. I haven’t come all this way for noth’n. Risk my life, and get noth’n out of it. No way.”
Joe shook his shoulders viciously; but Steven held tight until Joe stopped flaying. Steven then jerked hard causing them both to stumble backwards. Joe felt Steven wrap his arms around him. His friend’s words pierced his left ear. “We’re staying! We’re waiting!”
“Screw you Steve. Let me go. Damn it. I don’t want to hurt you.” Joe threw his shoulder up and both rolled over and landed in the holly bushes next to the house. “Oh man! I’ve had enough of this.”
“I’ve certainly had enough. You two better shut up. They’ll be calling the police if anyone hears this commotion. My God, what are you two doing? And what are you doing here?” Maddie stood with her hands on her hips. “Get up. Quick. I can’t believe you two.”
Joe rolled off Steven. He looked up. Hell. What am I doing here? God she’ll see I’ve been blubbering. He wanted to bury his face into the ground and never look up. He wiped his face twice with his forearm.
“Well? Get up.” Maddie wrapped her arms around her coatless torso. Joe could see the goose bumps on her exposed legs. The short, satiny black dress and silky bangs hiding her left eye made her look like a devil and an angel somehow entwined into a mystic and wondrous creature. She shook her head. “I ought to kill the both of you.” She reached out and helped Steven up. She looked him up and down. “Are you okay?” She hugged him.
Joe forced his large frame up slowly, hoping to avoid her scorn, her laughter, her rage, whatever would be hurled at him. She punched him in the chest once he got to his feet. “That’s for treating Steven like that. What’a ya doing trying to beat him up?”
“Me? He … he started it.” Joe’s head began to swirl. He swayed and worked to steady himself. He pointed at Steven and snickered, “Him. All this is his idea.”
“My God. You’re drunk. You come to my house uninvited and drunk. Well, how ’bout that.” Maddie hit him again. “You’re something else.”
“I’m not drunk. Well, not as drunk as I was. See.” Joe touched his nose with his right hand, then his left.
“I’m sure.” She leaned over and kissed Joe on the cheek. She whispered in his ear. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey. I get one too.”
Maddie pecked Steven on the lips. “How’s that?”
“Wonderful. I want more. Can I get more? Kiss me again. Kiss me like you mean it.”
Maddie kissed him again with a prolonged kiss. She then shook her finger at them. “If my dad finds you two, we’ll all be dead. Okay, listen up. They want me to play Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu, same thing every year. I have to finish my little concert. I’ll be done in about twenty minutes. Go up to my room now. It’s there.” She pointed to the second story of the corner of the house. “You’ll have to sneak in. The window’s not locked.” She motioned to the large oak tree, then pointed. “Go over there. Climb up the rope to that limb, then climb over to that limb branch, then you can get to that one.” She motioned toward two large limbs. “I’ll go up now and put a board across there, from that landing. And you climb across. Hell, you’re too drunk to do all that. Likely to kill yourself.”
“I’m okay. No problem. I can do that.”
“I hope so. I’ve done it plenty times when I’ve been high. Just be careful. This is crazy. You shouldn’t be here. You should go home.” She nodded her head toward the Oak tree. “Go on. Hurry up. Get in my room and for God’s sake don’t turn on any lights and don’t make any noise. No talking. Steve you have to get your mouth under control.” She pushed Joe forward pointing to the rope, her words nearly running together, “Okay. Go. Before one of the caterers comes out to have a smoke.” She hurried down the walkway along the side of the house.
Adrenaline rushed through Joe’s limbs, his heart raced – confidence boosted his drained spirit. Maybe she can. Maybe she will.
***
Chopin’s brilliance echoed through the stairwell, reaching past Maddie’s bedroom door. The music seemed to strengthen weary sinews that precariously and desperately had been straining to hold Joe’s soul together. He sat by a barely cracked bedroom door. “Shh!” He uttered countless times in an attempt to keep Steven’s jabbering to a whisper, jabbering he tuned out as he allowed the piano’s haunting melodies to embrace him. Then the music stopped. A breath of silence was followed by enthusiastic applause. He could hear muffled and inaudible words of praise being heaped on the damaged sixteen-year-old girl. He prayed, he hoped such words would bring healing, confidence, life.
“You are awesome. You know that?” Joe said when she had finally escaped the parade of adoration by dignitaries from across western Arkansas.
“Yip. That was some wicked-bad piano play’n. Didn’t know ya could do that kind’a stuff. You make that junk sound pretty good.”
“Chopin. Chopin Steven. Not stuff. And it was pretty crappy. I was messing up all over the place. The royal farts down there have to gush over my playing. It’s just a show for dad, for job. I feel like a trained monkey, playing at his party every New Year’s Eve. He has to keep back-slapping whoever the hell he thinks need it.”
“You all are just rich. Millionaires. We’re unworthy to be in your presence.” Steven dropped to his knees and bowed at Maddie’s feet. “Unworthy.”
“Shut up Steven. Go ahead and kick him in the face Maddie, while you have the chance.”
Maddie placed her foot on Steven’s shoulder and pushed him backwards. “We’re not rich. Dad does okay, that’s all. Just shut up Steven. And keep it down.”
“So your dad’s a drug dealer. Yeah, heads some South American cartel, sending Cocaine all over the world.” Steven got up and pointed around her bedroom and said with exaggerated awe, “Yeah, this is all drug money, ain’t it? Wow. Drug dealers are running the whole damn world.”
“Shut your mouth Steven. God. But what the heck does your dad do?”
She laughed. “Steven’s not far off actually. He’s a CEO of a Pharmaceutical company. Like the president of the company or something, I don’t know.” Maddie said stepping into her oversized walk-in closet; with the door open and oblivious to the wide eyes of her friends, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the ground. Joe quickly turned his torso the other way when she glanced up at him. She laughed and continued. “Their wonderful party is full of doctors, big-ass lawyers, a few Washington lobbyists, a couple of state senators and a congresswoman. I hate it. Hate New Year’s Eve. Full of pretense and show. Self-proclaimed perfection is what it is. And Dad puts me on his pretend stage every year.” She pulled on a pair of black, skinny jeans, a white tee shirt and then a thick purple wool polo neck sweater. “Yeah, nothing but a trained monkey. That’s what I am.” She said as she came back into the room mimicking a chimpanzee.
“Very well trained to play like that. And in front of all those rich and important bitches.” Steven snickered.
“Damn it Steven. Grow up.” Joe rubbed Maddie’s arm, feeling an urge to embrace her, kiss her. “You are so …” He pulled his arm away and shoved both hands in his jean pockets. “You know, you have amazing talent. You’re incredible.”
“Save it. I was rubbish. But what the hell are you two doing here anyway?”
“Drunk as a skunk. He’s a pitiful drunk. A sad and pitiful, stinky drunk.”
Maddie sighed and fell on her king-sized bed. “That’s great. Com’n over when you’re drunk and have nothing better to do than crash my parents VIP party.”
“I called you all week. I thought you might call back. All week I …” Joe said. He sat next to her with his back on the headboard. “All damn week.”
Maddie snapped back. “I’m grounded for the rest of my life. Turned my phone off, took my computer, Stripped of any reason to live, to be. Dad’s hell bent on destroying the life I could’ve, should’ve had.”
Joe snickered when Maddie said this. She glared at him with eyes that were about to pop out of their sockets. He said, “Sorry. I didn’t …”
“Why? How come?” Steven interrupted and kneeled by the side of the bed.
Maddie sat up and looked at him and snapped. “Oh, sure. Christmas? You remember Christmas? Sneaking out to save someone’s life.” She tilted her head toward Steven.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He buried his head deep into the duvet on her bed; the thick comforter muffled his exaggerated wailing.
“Oh stop. It’s my own fault. For not being honest for once.” She rubbed her hand through Steven’s jet-black hair and pulled it back holding it in a ponytail. She reached toward her bedside table and grabbed a hair tie and pulled it around his hair. “I don’t regret it, finding you. Helping you. I just can’t imagine what you’ve been through Steven. And you’re okay, that’s all that matters. But … now dad wants to send me away.”
“What do you mean? Send you away?” Steven asked.
Maddie shrugged. “Off, away. Somewhere far, far away.”
Joe chest’s tightened. His words barely came out, “How far away? Where?”
“Another world. A world far removed from this my only home; a home meant to be my refuge, my joy, the place of comfort and …”