Talk of the Town Too

by Saxon Bennett

  “No, that’s okay. Show her in.”

  Carmen nodded and gestured for the woman to come in.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Helen said, extending her hand.

  “The pleasure is mutual.”

  “Please take a seat.” Helen surveyed the attractive woman sitting across from her. Her dark hair was short and stylish, her brown eyes were almost black in the soft light of her office. About fifty, she wore just enough makeup to enhance her features without being obvious. She was wearing a black tailored suit and expensive Italian shoes. It must be something truly traumatic for a woman like this to be resorting to therapy, Helen thought, maybe a cheating husband, a failing business or the death of a child. Helen didn’t see women like Bel Aragon very often. It would be like Martha Stewart seeking her services.

  “So what can I help you with today?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked. She got out her pen and yellow legal pad.

  Bel started to laugh.

  Helen was puzzled. This was not the usual response to this question. More often than not a torrent of tears was the normal reaction, followed by the story of what caused this pain.

  “Actually, I came to check on you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Sometimes it can be a shock, and I thought you might want to talk about it with someone who has some insight.”

  “Insight?”

  “Insight into how it feels.”

  “How what feels?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked, now thoroughly confused as to what this woman wanted.

  “I thought you knew,” Bel said. “Perhaps I better go. I must have misunderstood the situation.”

  “Bel, have you ever been diagnosed by a doctor before?”

  “I’m not crazy!”

  “Then sit back down and tell me exactly what you are talking about because I obviously have no clue.”

  Bel sat down. “About Megan’s being gay. I was concerned about how you were doing. I wished when I found out about Rafferty that I’d had someone to talk to.”

  It all clicked. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize your name. You’re Megan’s boss. How completely silly of me.” She started to laugh. “It just didn’t connect.”

  “And Rafferty’s mother. You were in doctor mode. Don’t worry, I do the same thing at work.”

  “First, I almost get your daughter arrested and then I try to psychoanalyze her mother. Boy, I couldn’t botch this up any worse.”

  “I should have presented myself more correctly. So how are you taking it?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I want her to be happy and a few weeks ago I was planning a wedding. On the other hand, I’ve never seen her so happy and vivacious and interested in things other than the law.”

  Bel laughed. “That’s a good thing. If it’s any consolation you’ll never get over not having a wedding and grandchildren.”

  “I try not to go there.”

  “It’s hard not to sometimes and I’m not necessarily a fan of marriage myself.”

  Suddenly the door flew open. God came barging in the office with Carmen screaming behind her, “You can’t go in there!”

  “The hell I can’t!” God screamed back.

  “What is it?” Helen said, annoyed at God’s inappropriate behavior.

  “They’re trying to remove me from the lexicon. I told you my identity crisis is real.”

  “Slow down. What are you talking about?” She looked at Bel. “Excuse me for a moment.”

  “This atheist is trying to have the words under God removed from the Pledge of Allegiance. He’s taking it to court.”

  Bel stood up. “I should go.”

  “Maybe we could talk again,” Dr. Kohlrabi said, handing Bel her card.

  Bel exited quickly and Helen suddenly wished she wouldn’t go. God touched her shoulder and, puzzled, Helen turned to look at her.

  “Don’t worry. You two will become good friends,” God said. She flopped down on the couch. “Being angry makes me tired. I’m sorry I burst in like that.”

  There was a loud crash across the street.

  “Oh, no,” God said, groaning.

  Helen jumped up and went to the window. Bel was down the sidewalk just past the San Felipe Church where the giant stained-glass window above the Spanish front doors had come crashing down. Cars were stopped in the street. Two people from inside the church came running out to survey the huge pile of colored glass.

  “I don’t believe it!” Helen was shocked. How had this happened? It was such a beautiful window. Bel could have been killed or at least maimed for life.

  “You need to call your new friend right now.”

  “Why?” Helen was baffled. She didn’t have Bel’s number but she could call Megan’s office and ask to be transferred.

  “She needs to stay away from anything religious for the rest of the day until it wears off,” God said ominously.

  “Until what wears off?”

  “You know how things grow, like the near-dead plants in your office, after you’ve been with me.” God gestured to the spider plant that had once been on its last legs and was now threatening to take over the office. Carmen trimmed it every day.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there’s a reverse.”

  It took a moment for Helen to realize what God meant. “Oh my.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But how am I going to call Bel, whom I just met, and tell her that she was responsible for wrecking a church window because she was sitting here when you came in mad? Do you realize how ludicrous that sounds?” Helen was starting to get angry. It didn’t seem fair.

  “I suppose it does. I guess we’ll just have to hope she stays at the office the rest of day and away from churches. Now about my identity crisis . . .”

  Megan and Rafferty were returning from a late lunch when they met Bel in the lobby of the office building of the law firm.

  “How was lunch?” Bel asked.

  “Lovely, we’ve been going to Chez Nous lately. Megan’s mother took her there a few weeks ago so we’ve been popping in there ever since for lunch,” Rafferty said.

  Megan noticed one of the ficus trees in the lobby was shriveling up before her eyes like some fast-forward movie they’d seen in grade school showing how plants grew. Only this was in reverse. The fern went next.

  “I met your mother today,” Bel said.

  “You did?” Megan said, surprised.

  “I went to see her, to see how she was handling your conversion.”

  “That was a little forward of you, don’t you think?” Rafferty said, her face getting flushed. Megan gave her the don’t-fight- with-your-mother look.

  Megan looked over Rafferty’s shoulder to see the giant hanging baskets of petunias that hung in the atrium dry up. The leaves shriveled and all the flowers turned brown. Other people were starting to notice the phenomenon, all except Rafferty and Bel.

  “I wanted to give her comfort. No one comforted me when I found out you liked girls instead of boys. Believe it or not, Rafferty, it’s a shock. I was just trying to help. Helen was fine with it. We had a mother-to-mother chat. I would appreciate it if you would just get over it.”

  The elevator came and they stepped in. Rafferty was scowling but didn’t say anything.

  “I hope that’s all right with you, Megan.”

  “It’s fine, Bel. In fact, it was kind of you.”

  Rafferty tsked to indicate her displeasure with the sappy conversation.

  “Rafferty, stop that. It’s rude,” Bel said.

  The elevator stopped and they got out. Bel went to check her messages and every plant in the reception area of the office shriveled up and died as she walked by. Even Rafferty noticed. “What the hell?”

  “I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with Bel,” Megan said.

  “I always knew she was plant killer. Why do you think she has a gardener? Oh, this is good,” Rafferty said. “Watch this.”

  “What?”

  “Eile
en’s lucky bamboo plant. You know, the one she bought at the flea market. She’s been nursing it all winter. It’s supposed to bring good luck and romance.”

  Eileen shrieked as her beloved plant turned from bright green to brown and its stalk bent over forming a perfect letter n. “My bamboo plant! It’s dying.”

  Sam, the janitor, came rushing down the hall. “It’s all right, Eileen. Here, give it to me and I’ll put it in the mop sink with a lot of water. I’m sure we can get it back.”

  Bel was oblivious to the whole thing. She looked at her messages. “Don’t they sell those things all over town? Get a new one.”

  “Mom, look around you. Like, every plant you walk by instantly dies. You’re like a walking herbicide,” Rafferty said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s probably some strange fungus that all the plants are catching. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” Bel swept past the giant cactus that was growing in the waiting area and it dropped to the ground. “Sam, will you call the plant company and tell them we’ve got an epidemic here.”

  “Right away,” Sam said as he handed Eileen a tissue. “I’ll get you a new bamboo plant. My cousin works at this Oriental import place. They get them all the time. Good ones.”

  Eileen nodded tearfully.

  Rafferty snickered. Megan poked her in the ribs. When the plant company came there was a huge ruckus over what had happened to the plants. The plant person was certain that the plants had been poisoned by a disgruntled employee and Bel was financially responsible for the damages. She thought not. They refused to replace them so Bel had Sam haul them out to the dumpster, claiming she could give a rat’s ass about the plants anyway.

  Two days later Helen received a call from Bel Aragon and now they were walking down Central Avenue together going to a restaurant for dinner. Bel had indicated she wanted to try Chez Nous since the girls had been raving about it.

  “I’m so glad you called,” Helen said. She studiously avoided looking at the San Felipe Church where they were repairing the stained-glass window. She had seen on the evening news that they thought perhaps a sudden change in temperature had caused the giant window to pull away from its casing and thus send it crashing to the ground. This morning she had donated money to the collection box they had placed near the front door. Apparently, the church’s insurance company didn’t pay for damages caused by acts of God. Helen couldn’t help but chuckle at this, but still she felt obligated to help.

  She hoped that Bel didn’t noticed the spontaneous blooming of plants as they passed by. She’d just spent a session with you-know- who and now she was positively brimming with good vibes. Bel was polite and hadn’t inquired into the strange phenomenon until, as they waited to cross the street a nearby hibiscus bush burst into bloom, instantly producing beautiful red flowers. It was way too early for flowers.

  “You’re not . . .” Bel asked.

  “No, I’m just the therapist.”

  Bel nodded. “So all this is by-product?”

  “That’s a good way to put it,” Helen said. They crossed the street, leaving the hibiscus bush behind.

  “We had better never go to the botanical gardens. It would really freak out the staff. You know, the other day, I killed every plant in the office. So was that like a reverse process?”

  Helen laughed. “Kind of. Because she was angry.”

  “The plant company is threatening to sue.”

  “Oh, my goodness.” That has to be a first, Helen thought.

  “They don’t have a leg to stand on. Rafferty called me a walking herbicide.”

  Helen laughed.

  “Are you devout?” Bel said, meeting Helen’s gaze.

  “No, I am, or rather I was, an agnostic Jew.”

  “No doubts now.”

  “No. How about you?” Helen asked as they continued their stroll down the wide boulevard. Hardly anyone in Phoenix walked anywhere so the streets around downtown were always pleasantly uncrowded.

  “I’m a lost Catholic.”

  Helen chuckled. “Worse than just lapsed, I suppose. Yes, well I can certainly understand feeling lost, given what’s happened lately.”

  “It’s terrible, but it started long before that. I’ve been concerned over heaven and hell, the idea of a life lived solely in hopes of a greater reward. Is there such a place?”

  “That was my first question. According to you-know-who, those are human constructs and the human mind is not able to grasp the afterlife, so stories will have to do.”

  “Like trying to explain calculus to a three-year-old.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why does everything have to be an endless parable?” Bel said rhetorically.

  “I was thinking of it this way. How I perceive and order the world in my mind is entirely different from how you do it. We have common symbols that allow us to communicate, but we will never think exactly the same way. If we multiply this difference by a number we don’t have, you get the mind of God.”

  “You’re extremely good at explaining things.”

  “I’m the therapist. I have to explain people to themselves.”

  “Does that mean you can explain yourself to yourself?” Bel said.

  Helen laughed. “If only it were that easy.” They had passed by the museum. “Oh, look, they’re having a display of Monet’s Giverny paintings. I love that part of his work. If I had a ton of money I’d buy one of his water lily paintings and then decorate my living room around it.”

  “Have you been to the Giverny gardens?”

  “With my ex-husband?” Helen said incredulously, thinking the only place you could get Lars to was a golf course.

  “Oh, well, they are lovely. Perhaps we should go to the exhibit,” Bel offered.

  “I’d like that.”

  “It’s a date then.”

  It was late Thursday afternoon and Gigi met Mallory at the gym after work to play racquetball. Mallory sat on the locker room bench reading the first few chapters of Gigi’s new book. Gigi paced back and forth, waiting for her to finish so she could get a response. It had been several weeks since she started it. She’d written for two hours a night every night.

  “It’s really hard to concentrate when you do that,” Mallory said, looking up from the manuscript.

  “Do what?”

  “Pace like that. Sit down and try to be still. Besides, I thought the whole reason we can’t play racquetball is because your feet hurt. What’s wrong with them anyway?”

  “They don’t hurt. They just bleed all the time and I have to keep them bandaged up and I can’t fit them in shoes. Caroline knitted me these,” Gigi said, pointing out her multicolored slippers. Caroline had given up on the poultices and kept trying to get her to go to the doctor. Gigi couldn’t afford a doctor, so Caroline whipped her up a pair of slippers.

  “How sweet,” Mallory said, going back to the manuscript.

  You’re a moron, Gigi told herself, with an overactive sex drive. Mallory may have forgiven Gigi, but clearly she still harbored severe misgivings toward Caroline. Caroline had masterminded the whole affair; she knew how deeply Mallory had loved her and still Caroline fucked around on her. Caroline should never have chosen Gigi, especially now that she was regaining Mallory’s trust. It was downright cruel. Gigi could see that now.

  Mallory finished reading the second chapter. “This is really good and completely beyond your ken. Are you sure you didn’t pirate this off the Internet?”

  “No, I wrote it,” Gigi said defiantly.

  “Just checking,” Mallory replied. Gigi unwrapped one of the bandages on her feet. She could feel the gauze getting all bunched up. Mallory peered down at the perfectly round patch of cracked and bleeding skin on the arch of Gigi’s foot. “Have you had a doctor look at your feet?”

  “Are you high?”

  “No. I mean, certainly a dermatologist would know why they’re doing that.”

  “I can’t,” Gigi said. “Why not?”

&nb
sp; “I don’t want to. It’s just this thing that’s going on and one day it’ll go away. Look, I’ve tried everything. It’ll go away as soon as I’m done with the book.”

  “That’s probably what’s causing them.”

  “What do mean?”

  “Stress. You’re stressed out from writing the book and it’s manifesting itself in this weird skin condition.”

  “You know, you’re probably right.” Gigi wrapped her foot back up and put her slipper on. “Let’s go get a beer somewhere. It’s hotter than shit out there and if I can’t do good things to my body, I’d like to abuse it a bit.”

  “Sure. How about the George and Dragon Pub.”

  “Oh, I love that place. I’m going to have a pint of Newcastle.” Gigi remembered that Caroline had night class on Thursday. “Or maybe two.”

  “I’m really proud of you, Gigi.”

  Gigi gave her an inquiring look. “Why?”

  “For changing your life around.”

  “Maybe we should hold the praise until I’ve been guilt-free for at least a year. I’m certain I’m still capable of doing horrible things.”

  “Yeah, but at least now you appear to have a conscience,” Mallory said, handing her the manuscript.

  “It kind of sucks.” Gigi stuck the manuscript in her backpack.

  Mallory laughed. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll buy.”

  Across town Helen was talking to God about her anger-management problem. God usually had her appointments in the morning but Helen had a dentist appointment so all her appointments were running later. God had taken the last slot of the day.

  “It just infuriates me how such basic tenets as ‘love thy neighbor’ can get so screwed up. I mean, how did religion get so secular and hateful. It’s not right,” God said.

  “I think it may be a case of the telephone game,” Helen said, propping her head in her hand. Sometimes being in the presence of God made her extremely tired.

  “The telephone game? What’s that?”

  “It’s a game kids play at parties. One person starts a story and then passes it on. It ripples through the whole group and the last person in line tells the story again. It never even remotely resembles the original and everybody has a good laugh.”