by Tom Gabbay
"I didn't hear you come in."
Ula emerged from the dining room, intercepting the girls as they headed for the door.
"Oh, Ula. Hi." Mia faked a smile. "We just... We didn't want to disturb you."
"Oh." Ula shot Kat an unhappy look. "I see."
"We thought you might be, you know, working."
"No." She looked them up and down, from one to the other. "You look all dressed up."
"Yeah, well... There's this, um, party... A friend from school... We, you know... We thought we might as well check it out."
"Oh. That's nice. I hope you enjoy it."
Ula stood there, expressionless, for an awkward moment, leaning on her cane. Mia thought she was about to say something else, but she just turned away and silently retreated back into the dining room.
"Let's go," Kat whispered, edging toward the door.
"I better talk to her," Mia replied, pulling her arm out of Kat's grip. "She's obviously upset about something."
Kat frowned and waited by the door as Mia went into the dining room. She found Ula standing at the table, placing several containers of takeaway Chinese back into the bag they'd come in. An open bottle of wine and a lighted candle sat in the middle of the table.
"You didn’t tell me you had plans," Ula said. "In fact, you said we'd talk tonight. At least, that's what I remember. But perhaps I've got it wrong."
"I’m so sorry, Ula -- "
"I can't cook, so I got takeaway."
"I totally forgot..."
"I’ll put it in the fridge. You might be hungry after the party. Or shall I just throw it away?"
"You have every right to be angry. I -- "
"What makes you think I'm angry? I just assumed that when you said that we'd talk tonight, you meant it."
"I... I feel awful, Ula." Mia took a step toward her. "Listen... Why don’t you come with us to the party? It might be fun."
Ula shot her a bitter smile and glanced down at her cane. "I’m not much of a party person."
"Right. Well..."
Mia wasn't sure what she could do or say to make things better, so she just stood there. After what seemed like a very long time, Ula sighed, looked up, and offered what seemed like a genuine, if a little sad smile.
"Don't worry," she said. "I'll get over it."
18.
Kat looked back across the park toward the house and shook her head. "I don't care what you say, there’s something seriously wrong with that woman."
"She had an accident." Mia glanced over her shoulder, as well, and wondered if Ula was watching them. "It was pretty serious."
"Yeah? What happened?"
"A bus hit her while she was on her bike."
"Well that accounts for the cane, but not the weirdness."
"She was in a coma for like a year." Mia felt suddenly and inexplicably agitated talking about it. "I think it really messed her up."
"Messed her up how?"
"Memory problems, for one. Kind of like amnesia, but not exactly."
"So she has brain damage?"
She shot Kat a look. "I wouldn't put it like that. She’s incredibly smart. Maybe even a genius."
"A genius with brain damage. Hey. What could possibly go wrong?"
Mia came to a sudden stop and turned sharply on her friend. "To tell you the truth, Kat, I've really had about enough of your bitchy comments about her! She's actually a very nice person who just happens to be a little screwed up!"
"Hey..." Kat raised her arms in a defensive posture. "Sorry. I didn't know you two were so tight."
Mia frowned, a little surprised at the intensity of her own reaction. "We're not. It's just... I don't know... I don't even know why I said that. I... I guess I just feel sorry for her."
"Hey..." Kat could see that Mia was upset. She ran a hand along her arm in a soothing motion. "I get it. I'll shut up about her, okay?"
"Okay. Yes. Thanks."
They walked on in silence for a few moments, then Kat turned and gently asked, "Are you all right, sweetie? Because you seem a bit -- "
"What?"
"I don't know," Kat searched for the right word. "A bit off."
"Do I?" Mia forced a smile. "Oh. Well... It's nothing a large gin and tonic won't cure."
"Amen to that!" Kat said, returning the smile.
Mia did her best over drinks at the local pub to hide the increasing sense of angst that had taken hold of her. Something wasn't right, she knew that, but it was elusive, impossible to grasp let alone identify or confront. It felt as though some corrupting virus had found its way into her system and taken control, leaving her to watch in helpless anticipation as her life moved inexorably toward some impending disaster.
She felt it. Something bad was coming. Something sinister and dangerous. But there were no forks in the road, no off ramps, no choices that would allow her to avoid the catastrophe. How could there be? Mia didn't know it, of course -- not yet -- but the truth was that her future had already happened.
By the time they hit Shoreditch it was dark and Mia was feeling more relaxed. She was also feeling the effects of three G&Ts as they climbed a set of steep narrow stairs to enter the third floor loft. The place was huge, a former warehouse with painted brick walls, high ceilings, and a raised gallery with a glass balustrade along the far end. The music was deafening, the lights flashing, and the space jammed with people, mostly young and alternative, or trying hard to be.
"This is what I call a party!" Kat yelled above the noise.
"Crazy!" Mia shouted back.
A dude in a paisley shirt and flowers in his hair emerged from the crowd and pointed a Polaroid camera at them. "No, no, no, darlings! Don’t pose!" He gestured wildly with his free hand. "Reveal yourselves! Show me your greatest desires and your deepest fears!"
Kat gave him the finger and Mia stuck her tongue out.
"Perfect!" The photographer cooed as he snapped the shot. "You see how the camera reveals the truth!" He displayed the faded, unfocused shot that the camera spit out.
"Can we have it?" Kat asked.
"Are you serious?" He shot her a look and stuffed the snapshot into his pocket. "Find your own fucking truth!"
"Asshole!"
But he was gone, swept away by a heaving vortex of dancing humanity. Kat laughed and shouted into Mia's ear, "Fuck the truth! Let's find the bar!"
"I see it over there!" Mia yelled back. "Follow me!"
Squeezing through the crush, Mia became aware that somewhere along the way, she'd lost Kat. Looking back, she saw her being pulled onto the dance floor by a blonde Rastafarian with a silver waistcoat, a gold nose ring, and a live monkey on his shoulder. The last thing she saw of her friend that night, she was dancing with the Rasta man, the primate firmly attached to her head.
"I have no idea what I'm doing here."
Mia hadn't noticed the frail-looking young man in khaki chinos and a black polo neck, but he'd been watching her from a distance for quite a while before gathering the courage to walk over, lean into her ear, and deliver his line. He looked young -- sixteen or seventeen -- and a bit lost, but having been on her own since being abandoned by Kat, Mia was relieved to have someone to talk to.
"What's anybody doing here?" she replied.
"Exactly!" the boy exclaimed. "What's anybody doing here? I mean, it's all so pointless, isn't it?"
Mia took a sip of the drink she'd picked up along the way. It seemed like vodka, but she wasn't sure. "You are talking about the party, right?"
"What?"
She raised her voice. "When you said you have no idea what you're doing here, you meant the party, right? Or did you mean life in general?"
"Which is the better answer?"
Mia laughed. "Neither one is an answer! They're both questions!"
"I'm confused!"
"Aren't we all!"
"Is that a question?"
"No, it's a statement!"
"Oh." The boy shrugged and reached into his chinos. "You wanna smoke some
dope?"
Mia hadn't been stoned more than a couple of times since leaving Franklin High, and not at all since arriving in London, but this seemed like a good moment for it.
"Why not?" she shrugged.
The boy smiled. "Is that a question?"
"Yes, but a rhetorical one!" Mia stole the joint out of his hand and put it between her lips. "Which means you don't have to answer!"
Things got a little strange from there. Maybe the weed was stronger than Mia was used to, or maybe it was laced with something, but whatever the reason, the boy started to make even less sense than he had when she was only drunk. Half his words sounded like gobblygook and the other half weren't much better.
"Have you ever wondered if we actually exist?" he said in all seriousness.
"No," Mia replied. "Why would I?"
"Did you know that our physical bodies are made up of ninety-nine point nine percent empty space?"
"Speak for yourself," Mia shot back, holding her breath as she took another drag off the joint.
"Hey, who knows? Maybe we're just some alien being's crazy daydream. Or a giant hologram projected onto some distant galaxy."
Mia exploded into laughter.
"What? What's so funny?"
She wasn't sure if he was offended, indignant, or baffled, but it didn't matter. Whatever the case, the expression on his face was maybe the most hilarious thing she'd ever seen. She couldn't stop laughing.
"You know that's an actual theory in Quantum Physics, right? It's called the Holographic principle and it's supposed to explain black holes. Hey...! Where you going...? Are you coming back?!"
The boy's voice faded away and the next thing Mia knew she was sitting on a toilet with her head in her hands. Realizing that she hadn't pulled her jeans down, she checked her crotch and was relieved to discover that it was dry. The sounds of the party helped her recall where she was, but she had no memory of how she'd ended up in her current position. Grabbing hold of the sink, she pulled herself up onto her feet and looked into the mirror. Someone had written a message in lipstick across the glass, asking the question:
"What the fuck are you looking at?"
Stepping out of the bathroom, Mia found herself on the raised platform overlooking the dance floor, which seemed to have grown even more frenzied since she last saw it. The floor was pounding, or maybe it was her head. An unpleasant wave of disorientation came over her, making her feel that she was watching herself from some place very far away. She needed to get out, to be alone and breathe some fresh air. Spotting the stairs, she pushed past a group on their way up, then forced her way through the crowd, heading for the exit. As she was about to escape, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back in.
"Hey! Where you going?!"
It took a moment for his face to come into focus, and even then Mia wasn't sure she could trust what she was seeing.
"Peter? What...? What are you doing here?"
"Some fucking insane party, right?!"
Mia looked down at her arm, which he held tightly. "Can you let go of me, please?" she heard herself saying.
"You can't leave now!" His smile looked crazed, menacing. "Things are just heating up!"
She tugged at her arm but couldn't get free. "Let go of my arm!" she repeated. "You're hurting me!"
"What?"
"You're hurting me!"
"Can't hear you!"
"Have you been following me?"
"We need to talk!"
"I don’t want to talk!"
An ominous look came over him and he tightened his grip. "For fuck’s sake, Mia! How long are you gonna keep this bullshit up!"
"You're hurting me!"
"You made your point and I said I’m sorry! So let’s just forget anything ever happened! We'll start over, fresh!"
"I don’t want to start over! Now let me go!" She knew the look in his eye. He was going into one of his rages.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" he howled. "You’re acting like a goddamned spoilt little bitch! And I swear to god, Mia, if you're fucking somebody else, I'll fucking kill you both! And you know I ain't just saying it!"
Mia tried again to wriggle out of his grasp, but he was too strong. Her arm was starting to go numb.
"GO AWAY!" she cried.
His response was to yank her toward the door, so hard that it felt like her arm would come out of its socket. After dragging her a few steps he stopped abruptly in front of the exit, which was blocked by Nico, the model. Peter tried to pull Mia around, but Nico blocked him again.
"You got a problem, mate?" Peter said, puffing his chest out.
"It don't look like she wanna go with you," the bigger man replied.
"Yeah, well, it’s got fuck all to do with you." Peter tried to push his way through, but Nico shoved him back, nearly knocking him off his feet.
"You need to let go of her arm," Nico said, stepping forward. "Right away."
"Or what?" Peter responded, holding his ground.
Nico shrugged. "I fuck you up."
Peter stood there a minute, an inane grin plastered across his face, but after the pitiful show of defiance, he released his grip on Mia. "Fine," he said. "Take her. She's ain't worth the trouble anyway."
"Go to hell!" Mia cried out as he headed for the door.
"Oh, yeah? Well, we ain't done yet!" He pointed a threatening finger in her direction. "Don't you worry about that! We ain't anywhere near done!"
19.
Staring out the window at the dark, windblown streets, Mia was grateful that Nico had offered to drive her home, but she was even more grateful that he didn't feel the need to fill the space with meaningless small talk. Whether it was the after effects of the drug or the traumatic events of the evening, she was in a delicate state and the silence was welcome.
Her thoughts drifted back to the funny kid in the chinos and black polo neck. He seemed like a nice boy in spite of his weirdness and she regretted being so rude to him. She wondered if he found a more sympathetic ear for his crazy ideas after she so abruptly abandoned him. She hoped so. And who knows. Maybe his ideas weren't so crazy after all. Maybe everybody really was just playing a role in some alien's daydream. Sometimes things felt that way.
"We arrive."
Nico finally spoke up as he pulled the car onto Highbury Crescent. He parked in front of the house, turned the engine off, and killed the lights.
"Thanks," Mia said, reaching for the door. "Thanks for everything."
"It's no problem." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "And you? You're okay now?"
"Yes, fine, thanks." She responded with her own tentative smile. "Just really tired. I'll see you in class, okay? Thanks again." She started to open the door but Nico reached across to pull it shut.
"Why don't you stay for a minute?" he said. "We can talk a little."
"Thanks, but -- "
"But what?" His arm was draped across Mia's lap, his face too close to hers. The sweetness of his cologne made her feel vaguely nauseous.
"Let's talk at school, okay? I really should go in now."
Nico withdrew his arm, but remained uncomfortably close. "Tell me something," he said. "This asshole who makes trouble. He's been your boyfriend?"
"I guess so, more or less. But not for very long."
Nico frowned. "You shouldn't go with a man like this. He's not good for you."
"Yeah, well, it's over now."
"Good. You definitely need something better."
"Look, Nico, I'm sorry, but I'm really not up for talking right now. I appreciate everything you did, but, like I said, I'm pretty exhausted -- "
He moved a little closer. "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Appreciate what I did."
"Yes... Of course I do, but -- "
"Then why don't you show it to me?"
A shot of adrenaline surged through Mia's body and her heart started to pound wildly. "Show you what?"
"Show me the appreciation."
"Hey, I don't know what
you thought but -- "
Before she could finish the sentence, he reached over, grabbed her hand, and pulled it onto his hard cock, which he'd somehow managed to slip out of his trousers. Mia yanked her hand away.
"Jesus Christ! What's wrong with you!"
"Hey, don't worry... You gonna like it, I'm sure." He tried to grab her hand again, but Mia shoved him away.
"Asshole!"
She fumbled for the door handle but Nico grabbed her by the collar, pulled her back, and, laughing, tried to kiss her. Acting on pure instinct, Mia clenched her fist and brought it around hard, landing a direct hit on the side of his face. It took a beat for the blow to register, then he exploded in anger.
"Fucking bitch!"
He reared back and delivered a brutal backhand, his pinkie ring cutting a deep gash above her eye. As blood spilled out from the wound, she went for the door again, but he dragged her back in. Grabbing her by the scruff of the neck, he pushed Mia's head down into his lap and thrust his pelvis up into her face.
"You wanna make it like this?" he snarled. "Okay! We make it like this!"
Surging with adrenaline and bleeding badly, Mia flailed about, desperately searching for something, anything to help her escape the brutal assault.
The persistent blare of the car's horn lifted Ula out of a semi-conscious state. Opening her eyes, she lay there a moment, mind not yet fully engaged, unable to process the disturbance outside her window. Then, suddenly, she sat up.
Grabbing her cane and pulling on her dressing gown, she stumbled down the stairs and out the door. As she stepped into the cool night air the honking abruptly stopped, and so did Ula. She could see movement inside the car -- two people struggling -- but it was too dark and she was too far away to make out any detail. Heart pounding, she moved cautiously down the steps and walked toward the vehicle.
When the car door opened, Ula froze. An image of what would come next flashed through her mind -- the blood, the tears, and the harrowing events that would inevitably follow -- and the thought immobilised her. Unable to take another step into that horrific future, she just stood there, paralysed, eyes shut tightly.
"Ula?"
The lighthearted tone of Mia's voice and the playful laugh that followed was enough to prompt Ula to open her eyes. She found the young girl standing a few feet away, looking a bit drunk, but happy and unharmed.
