The captain is the motivator of the team. He’s the strategist, he’s the inspiration. Gavin was the captain of a winning baseball team. A team that traditionally sucked pretty badly, but not when he was the captain. Put him in the dugout, and he could lead a rally. He had a winning season. And every teamloves a winning season. The parents love it. . The school loves it. Everybody loves a winner.
The baseball diamond was the arena in which his troubled life seemed pretty good. A winning team has fans. And one of those fans was a girl even from his own school. She was from a rival school, but she watched all the games.
More to the point, she watched him. Gavin was not the kind of dork to miss a pretty girl giving him the eye, so he asked around. It turned out that this pretty girl was “Madeleine Lindholm.” Madeleine’s dad was his dad’s worst enemy. They made Seattle council meetings raucous, banging heads about their city planning schemes. Council member Tremaine and Council member Lindholm hated each other’s guts.
So, what was with Juliet, sitting up in the stands? Well, Romeo was good-looking. Madeleine Lindholm thought he was cute. She had a crush on the captain of the baseball team. As simple as that, really.
Madeleine Lindholm was approachable. She was a sensible girl. She was given to flat, realistic assessments about things. Straight talk. “Our parents are being a pain.” Stuff like that. “It sucks that our dads fight all the time.” Madeleine was easy to understand.
Gavin enjoyed taking Madeleine Lindholm home to meet his folks. Little Elizabeth loathed and feared Madeleine, but she was just a goofy little kid. His mom was kind and polite to Madeleine. His dad was frankly flummoxed by the situation. His dad was plainly conflicted by it all. His dad couldn’t very well declare, “Son, you shouldn’t be having sex in your car every Friday night with the daughter of my worst enemy.” Obviously, this was the part of the story that his dad secretly thought was terrific.
Madeleine was his peacemaker. Some guy’s girlfriends howled at them, or yelled, or clung, or made crazy emotional demands. Not Madeleine. Madeleine was a supportive and stabilizing presence in his life.
Gavin got along fine with Madeleine’s family. The Lindholms were nouveau-riche right-wingers. Progressive Seattle had so few seriously right-wing people that Madeleine’s family was a broadening source of insight for Gavin. To know them was to know why certain things in America were always the way they were. He cherished them.
It was sweet and comforting to be Madeleine’s steady guy. She was tall, sturdy and optimistic. She was even-tempered and erotically generous. Madeleine had a frank, healthy, sauna-scrubbing, West-Coast-girl approach to making-out. She was cheerfully up for most anything, as long as it didn’t involve jails or clinics.
People admired them. People liked this level-headed pair of high-school sweethearts, who didn’t let their family’s bad-blood get in their way. Their relationship was honest and considerate. Madeleine settled any harsh situations with simple remarks. “I’ll take that new job because it pays better.” “We won’t move in together, because our parents have plenty of room.” “Your sister is just going through a phase.”
Madeleine was a one hundred percent Seattle girl. Their city meant every bit as much to Madeleine as it did to him. Madeleine liked hiking, cycling, canoes, Dale Chihuly glassworks, mocking dumb Canadians, and romantic Seattle date-movies like Sleepless in Seattle, Love Happens and Say Anything. Even shopping for clothes, the ultimate boyfriend trial, was fine with Madeleine. While other girls would freak out over picking out a swimsuit, Madeleine would briskly say, “Wow, I look great in this! Let’s go have sex on the beach!”
The one minor drawback of their relationship was his sleepwalking. That part was his own fault. In a motel once, she’d had some unpleasant pitch-dark encounter with his sleepwalking self. Madeleine didn’t want to talk about that episode. And who could blame her.
Years passed for them. He traveled more, and she worked more. Romeo and Juliet developed an email relationship.
Marrying Madeleine was not a new idea for Gavin. That was the logical idea. They had talked practically about the subject. Madeleine had sound, sensible ideas about getting married. Being who they were, they certainly could not marry until they had their own proper house in Seattle. To buy and furnish a decent house meant a big hassle for them. Of course, they had the money, but when would they find the time?
Then, there was the major issue of the marriage ceremony. It didn’t take genius to predict big trouble there. Her father and his father would lose no chance to put the boot into each other, before, during, and after the church service. As Madeleine aptly put it, what a major drag. Maybe they could elope together, some cheap civil marriage in Las Vegas, but that would humiliate them. They had a standing in the Seattle community. Their marriage had to be a public occasion.
Also, the marriage-tax situation stank. No accountant could overlook that fact. All their friends in Seattle were also unmarried twenty-somethings, basically living in hookups. No compelling reason to undertake the drudgery of lawful matrimony. Just an uncool snarl for everybody.
Maybe, thought Gavin, it was time to cut that knot. Time to tie a fresh new knot. Maybe this was a rebound thing for him, maybe he was being rash — but marrying a woman you’ve dated for nine years? Nobody could call that ‘rash.’
Maybe it was appalling of him to think about marrying Madeleine when he was swooningly in love with someone else.
Or — maybe he was finally learning how to outguess the future. How to duck all kinds of future hell. How to settle down.
Gavin’s phone kept bleeping with incoming SMS messages. Every time he feared that it was an incoming lightning-bolt from her, but no, it was always Eliza. Just like himself, Eliza was jet-lagged. Eliza wasn’t sleeping a wink on their last night in Capri.
Eliza was ecstatic about some wild techno concert that she was attending. She seemed to be blasting out SMS messages to everybody that she knew.
It couldn’t be drugs, because she was spelling the words correctly. Eliza loved music. That was it, that was her story. To love music with an all-consuming passion was her nature. Eliza was having a great time in her weirdo nightclub. Was there any harm in Eliza being so excited and happy about the one thing she loved best in the world? He was glad to see his sister happy.
The planet revolved on its axis. Gavin suffered stoically. No day could ever hold more than twenty-four hours. A bleak blue-pink dawn arrived for him. Gavin assembled the luggage. He took the steep, tilted train down to the Grand Harbor.
The new day had started at the seaside.
It pleased him to see sleepy Capri, a time Capri was not wide awake and busy seducing her tourists. He was abandoning this pretty island, and he would certainly never come back to her, but Capri would get along on fine without him. Capri would never miss him. She’d seen millions of mortal men like him, and she would see millions more. Capri was a beautiful piece of immortal Italian rock.
No sign of the LOXY yacht in the Capri harbor. The Disco Volante was long gone, like some vanished freebie from a nineties dotcom. The morning ferry arrived from mainland Italy. People got off the ferry to deliver the mail, or whatever they did so early, bored and yawning. Just normal life, a morning like any other day. The new day brightened. A café opened. Gavin gulped down two hot cappuccinos and a gooey tourist pastry. He had to stay awake until they boarded the plane in Naples. Then, he would get some sleep. He would sleep in the sky. And he would forget, if he was lucky.
The coffee made him jittery. He sent his sister a text message. Get yourself down here, these hydrofoils don’t kid around.
I’m here now, I C U, Eliza texted back at once.
Eliza could see him? There was no sign of her.
Some tall blonde in couture clothes was waving at him from the dock.
Gavin settled his café bill.
He couldn’t believe it. New hairdo, entirely new clothes — Eliza looked ten years older. “What the hell happened to you?”
&nbs
p; “Like you look so great?” she snapped. “Up all night? You didn’t even shave or wash your hair!”
“Eliza, you look fantastic! Who are you, strange woman? What have you done with my grungy kid sister?”
“Oh, well,” Eliza dimpled. “Well — did you get all my stuff from my hotel? Look at my nice, new bag here! I did some shopping in Capri, like you said! Do you like what I bought here?”
“Well... I have to like it. I told you to go shopping in Capri. I didn’t tell you to buy the whole store! How much did you blow on that get-up?”
“Nothing! Not even two hundred Euros. Got it all at a garage sale.”
“You are kidding me! No way! That’s totally amazing! I can’t believe you changed the hair.”
“The hair was three hundred Euros,” she said. “They did the hair, the nails, a pedicure... They locked me up in this skin-peel steam room with hot black rocks piled on my back... They gave me this introductory spa package. I got the works.”
“And you survived that?”
“It felt fantastic! Capri is the coolest resort in the world! I can’t wait to come back here, some day. This was the best vacation I ever had.”
“Well,” said Gavin, “I did predict that, didn’t I?”
A motley crowd was boarding the hydrofoil. The early morning ferry crowd back to Naples. Bargain backpackers, bleary-eyed Eurotrash rave kids. Gavin and Eliza hauled their bags aboard and settled into blue fabric seats.
The Italian crew was crisp and efficient. People mocked the tardiness of Italian trains, but these hydrofoil sailors were pros. The engines roared like a jet at takeoff. The ship climbed up on its skis. Before Gavin’s heart could rise in his throat, they were skipping over the straits like flung rock.
“Gavin, you missed so much last night! You never went to any of the music events! Last night, I saw such a tremendous set. Sonja Khalecallon. Okay, you don’t know who she is... But she’s big in London and Rio. I talked to her backstage, after her set. Sonja was so nice to me.”
“So, my little sister, all dressed to the nines, was rubbing elbows with international rock stars,” said Gavin. “That makes a guy feel pretty proud.”
“Sonja is not a ‘rock star!’ Sonja is a global multi-artist, she does nightclub installations. With live soundtracks! You should have seen what Sonja did to that dirty, old Italian nightclub. It was like another world in there. It was the way forward. It was the way backward and forward, at the same time. It was like the world turned sideways. Like a slum and a castle, at the same time... And I was grooving on that! I totally got that. I felt Sonja.nja is a feeling.”
“Yeah, that’s all great, Eliza. I told you to go mingle with the celebrities. Didn’t I say that? You got the Brazilian pop-star’s email, her website, the MySpace thing, all that? That was gutsy. That shows you’re, like, serious.”
“Music is serious. Music is more serious than me. I can die, but music doesn’t ever die. Every time you hurt music, or steal from it, or cut pieces off of it, music comes back in new shapes. ‘Sonja’ isn’t Sonja’s real name. Sonja has other names. Sonja lives in London and Sonja has a whole lot of friends.”
Gavin was glad to hear his sister rattle on, all bright-eyed and pleased with herself. That made his own dark fate seem less poisonous. At least, Eliza had derived some benefit in Capri... She had changed her hair, even! That was the platinum-blonde lining to his black cloud.
He was glad to have her sitting near him, artlessly gushing nonsense about her precious music. It was silly, but it cut the anguish of his loneliness. Eliza gave their parents so much grief, they were really worried about Eliza. And yet, to tell the truth, Eliza was his consolation. He trusted her.
“Sonja is modern and strong. Sonja makes me want to... leave home, that’s what. She makes me want to grow up, and be brave, and leave home, like her! If she can do it, I can do it! Sonja is a world artist. She’s a moral leader.”
“This moral leader didn’t shake you down for any money, did she?”
“No way! She took me backstage and she told me about quantum physics! Then, she gave me this cool thumb drive! Look at this, I still have it, my Sonja souvenir! It’s got all her live bootlegs.”
“Good for you,” said Gavin, gazing out the hydrofoil window. The slanted porthole was streaked with seagull droppings. “Maybe you can pass along a few of those Brazilian tracks to me. Because I’m, like, very much a global trendster.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t understand Sonja. Sonja is too intense for you,” said Eliza, loftily. “You know who you should listen to? A straight guy like you should listen to the Beatles. Because you need ‘Help!’ And some ‘Rubber Soul.’”
“Sure, sure. I’ll listen to the Beatles for you,” Gavin promised. “When did I ever disappoint you? When did I ever go back on my word to you?”
“Never,” she admitted, in a smaller, less shrill and fanatical voice. “You never do that, Gavin. You’re always really good to me.”
“So, that’s great. So, we have no problem. The Beatles. They’re great. I like me some authentic, historical, million-year-old pop music. Truck ‘em over in iTunes.”
Eliza slouched in her seat. “What happened?”
“What?”
“What happened to you? You’re so listless! I saw video of that speech you gave. That speech is all over the Net. You were amazing up there. You were so killer. You were sexy. You were teasing that audience like Mick Jagger. Normally, you’re more like Kurt Cobain mumbling into his hair.”
“I’m kind of tired after all the hard work. That’s all.”
His feeble lie did not convince her. Eliza flicked his lie away instantly, as if swatting a fly. She didn’t say anything to him for quite a while. She was too busy getting mad at him.
“Now I get it,” said Eliza. “You and Farfalla. You had a fight.”
“We didn’t have a fight. We had common sense.”
“I see,” Eliza said frostily. She bent her head and busied herself with her iPhone. He couldn’t believe the beautiful clothes she was wearing. Was that Prada? It was Prada. He could see the Prada tag at the back of her bent, skinny, teenager neck.
“What are you doing with that gadget?” he said at last.
“I’m pirating you some early Beatles.”
“You can do that out here in the middle of the damn ocean?”
“I’m good at this,” said Eliza, scowling fiercely.
“Look, it’s all right,” Gavin offered. “Get over it. Twelve hours from now, we’re home safe. Everything will be fine.”
“Gavin, what on Earth is wrong with you? She’s, like, a witch with magic powers! How could you possibly miss that? She’s paranormal! Look at me, she turned me from a frog into a princess! Like, in one night!”
“Are you on drugs now? Did that Sonja person give you pills from London? I told you never to eat those!”
“Oh, don’t you talk to me like that! I’m seventeen years old, I’m not ten! I can read you like a book! You suck! You are ridiculous to me. She loves you! She was falling all over you. She hangs on every single word you say! And you, what, you had to pick a fight with her? You did. I knew it! You moron! She was perfect for you! You glow when she is around! It was the first time in my whole life I ever saw you so happy! You make me want to cry.”
“Look, put a cork in it,” he said. “Do I ever give you any advice in these matters?”
“Oh yes, you do! You warn me constantly. You are like my total big brother.” She sighed heavily. “You blew it. You made a total mess of something that’s fantastic. You stink. I can’t even believe it.”
These insults were too much for him. “You don’t think I’m aware of that? I am aware of that! All of it! What are you saying? I’m supposed to have this crazy fling overseas, when it’s a cruel betrayal of a woman, who never did one thing to deserve that from me?”
“Madeleine deserves it. Madeleine is a fungus.”
“You don’t have to get all punk and nasty. You are totally out
of line there. I know that you never liked her. She would never say anything like that about you.”
“Madeleine is a parasite. She’s like mistletoe, growing all over your body. She sucks the life out of you. She has never let you be real, not for one day. She has turned you into what she needs you to be. She makes you stupid.”
“Elizabeth, you are a smart-ass kid. All right? You have dad’s brains, instead of mom’s heart. You think you know my own girlfriend better than I do? Go to hell! Name one time she ever lifted her hand against me. Name one mean or wicked thing that she ever did to me. You think I don’t know who Madeleine is, what kind of life she has? She had to fight her own family to be with me. She still has to fight against you. You kicked and fought against her every step of the way, and don’t think I ever liked that! You get along so great with Farfalla Corrado? Well, you fell for the Italian opera there. Let me clue you in! Madeleine is a Valkyrie from a Wagner opera. So there.”
“No she isn’t. Madeleine would never die on fire for her love of you. Madeleine is not your Valkyrie. Madeleine wouldn’t put you out if you were on fire.”
“Madeleine would never let me catch fire in the first place.”
“You need to wake up, Gavin. You’re a very weird, intense guy. You belong on fire. People think that you’re okay, because you talk like a Microsoft nerd and you wear a business suit. That’s crap! You are super-weird, Gavin. You don’t even live in our time-zone. Not even, Gavin. Nobody else knows that — but I’m your sister. And now I know there is somebody else in this world, someone else who is like you.”
“She’s not ‘like me’ at all, okay? She’s a woman. I didn’t do anything to her! She ordered me to go. Flat out. She told me to beat it. Never look back, she said! She had the right idea, too. She went her way, and I went mine. End of story.”
Eliza thought about this. She hated every word of it. She was struggling. “That was it? ‘End of story’?”
Love Is Strange (A Paranormal Romance) Page 20
