Multiplex Fandango

by Weston Ochse

  "A whole new world open to you."

  "No kidding. But how?"

  "Swan's Sorrow is very special thing. She made from swans."

  "Swans? As in the bird?"

  "Of course. Heart's blood, distilled into brandy. Is very special and can make things happen."

  "Swan's blood?" He'd never imagined it. "How do they get the blood?"

  "How do you think? They keep the swans in cages, then remove the heart for...how you say...distilling."

  "Fuck but that's cruel."

  Might be cruel, but is magic."

  "Yeah. Right," Cary scoffed.

  "You don't believe? Then tell Momma Desta how you see. Hmmm?" She leaned forward and poked a long-nailed finger towards his face. "Just because you don't believe doesn't make it not real."

  ***

  He'd had ample opportunity to prove that this last month. From blue-assed primates to the brilliant tail feathers of the male peacock at the zoo, he'd seen things he'd never believed possible. At the Getty Center he'd seen art that had made his heart break with its beauty and the realization that he'd spent a lifetime not knowing. He'd spent hours wandering through Del Amo Mall, aghast at the universe that had been denied him, staring openly at a thousand things he'd taken for granted, wondering how a person could decide what to wear everyday with such an assortment of colors. Finally, confused and tired, he'd found himself in the toy aisle of the Super K–Mart in Carson. Sitting on the bench of a child's plastic picnic table, he wept as he examined and re-examined a box of 64 reasons to hate God, coloring in a book made for children.

  There he met Miranda.

  She came to him as he sat crying. Placing a hand on his back she whispered, "What makes a man cry like this?" Her voice lilted softly with a Mexican accent. "Who has broken your heart so?"

  He sat up then and stared into her face. His heart stopped as the emerald orbs captured him. They were so rich and deep, he'd never known eyes could be like that. She had a childlike permanence to her beauty that made him want to reach out and touch her. She hadn’t flinched as his hand cupped her porcelain-fine cheek. Unable to answer, he stared into her eyes, those emerald eyes, mesmerized for a moment.

  Then, feeling like he’d gone too far, he stuffed both hands under his arms and rocked back and forth. "Sorry," he'd said. "I can't believe I touched you like that."

  She sat down across the tiny table then, squeezing into the small bench until their knees had touched. She didn't put her arms around him, nothing that familiar. Instead, she simply folded her hands together on the table in front of her and waited for his tears to subside. Finally he was able to introduce himself. "My name is Cary Grant."

  "Like the movie star?"

  "Yes. Like the movie star."

  "Was he your father?"

  "He might as well have been," he said, admiring the way her eyes crinkled as she tried to understand. Then he explained. He told her about his mother and her fondness for the actor. He told her about his black and white life. And he told her about the recent metamorphosis brought on by the strange red liquor.

  In turn, she told him about growing up in the small Mexican village of Hermosa somewhere in the Sonoran Desert with a family of thirteen in a two-room adobe. She'd run away from home when she was fifteen because of her brothers and the other boys in the village. She hadn't wanted to be a mother so young. She'd been taken in by a priest and later, at his insistence, had moved into the dormitory at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart where she'd eventually taken her vows and become a Bride of Christ.

  "What happened? You're not a nun now, are you?"

  "No more," she'd sighed. "We are kindred spirits, you and I. God has broken both of our hearts."

  With that she'd stood and told him that she had to get back to work. Buoyed by her attention, he'd complied, no longer feeling sorry for himself. Before he left, he got her phone number.

  He promised to call.

  She told him she looked forward to it.

  Once outside, the huge illuminated, blue and red letters of the K–Mart faded once again to a dull gray. As the color disappeared, so did his excitement. By the time he trudged the eight miles back to Sunken City, the spark she'd ignited in his chest had become an ember. It was so hard to want to be a part of a world that kept so much of itself hidden.

  Cary called her the next day.

  They met at a Fatburger – a distinctly California fast-food franchise that bragged about its lack of sprouts and humus and was proud of its megalithic caloric content.

  He'd been in such a rush, he'd forgone Momma Desta's Swan's Sorrow. When Miranda arrived, she smiled and embraced him. They ordered, found a corner booth and ate. They spoke about mundane things as if they were a husband and wife recounting the items of the day.

  Cary found it a lusterless meal lacking in everything meaningful. Her emerald eyes were the same gray as the fat dripping from the burger. Her clothes were a scant shade darker. The conversation was flat and he couldn't find a way to enliven it. The spark failed to rekindle. They said their good-byes and parted ways. She returned to her sister's home in Carson, and he to Momma Desta's.

  Several drinks later, he discovered the color goldenrod. Even later, umber. Finally, he realized what he'd lost. The Swan's Sorrow had rekindled the spark. He was almost mindless in his misery when Momma Desta finally came to him.

  "Why so low down?" she asked, leaning both elbows onto the counter.

  "I found love and lost it."

  "Nonsense. You can't lose love. You can throw it away or you can ignore it or let it die, but you can't lose it."

  "Either way, it's gone."

  "Nonsense."

  "No," he sighed heavily. "It's the truth. I found this girl last night…"

  "Last night? After you left here?"

  "Yes. We talked. We felt something special. I've never felt anything like it before."

  "And tonight?"

  "The feeling was gone."

  Momma Desta nodded her head slowly. She stood her full height and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. "Las night, what color were her eyes?"

  Cary couldn't help but smile as he remembered their sparkle. "Emerald," he said with a sigh.

  "And tonight?"

  Cary's smile fell. "Nothing. Gray. Whatever."

  "Aw my black and white Movie Star, you should have come to Momma Desta before your date tonight." She placed one of her immense warm palms against his cheek and shook her head. "You've done something that can't hardly be undone now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Don't you see? You opened the door to another world last night. The Swan's Sorrow was the key that unlocked the door to a world of color and light and showed you to this woman with the emerald eyes. Then tonight you ignore the Swan's Sorrow and try to enter the world with no key. How can you date this woman if you are in one world and she's in another?" She shook her head and poured him another drink of Swan's Sorrow.

  He stared imploringly.

  "Give her this night to think. Tomorrow come by and get your key, open the door and step through. When next you meet, you'll find a world where the loving is easy."

  ***

  He did as he was told. The next evening when Miranda stepped off the bus at the 36th street stop on Pacific, he was waiting with a twinkle in his eyes. Empowered by the Swan's Sorrow, he marveled at the way the burgundy dress moved against her supple body. She stared at him nervously with her emerald eyes. When her feet hit the sidewalk he grasped her hand and pulled her to Sunken City where the lights of the ships reflected off the lumbering tide.

  He'd prepared a picnic basket of bread and cheeses and clear, cold bottled water. While they ate and spoke of things both past and present, Tudose whispered love songs upon the wind.

  "You said God broke your heart as well?" he asked later on.

  She turned away from him as she answered. "It was more than that. I was wed to him, you see? Like a wife, I entrusted all of my love and desires to him. But like my father, he i
gnored my pain." She stared towards the far horizon where the ocean met the sky. "God is too busy for the likes of me. He ignored me when that young monk stole into my room and took from me what had belonged only to Him."

  "But isn't that the monk's fault?"

  "How? God is the creator. God is all-knowing. God allowed it to happen and did nothing to stop it."

  "Maybe he had a reason for not intervening?"

  "Not good enough."

  "What?"

  "That excuse is not good enough. I've heard it before. When I spoke to the Priest, he said the same thing. When I was counseled by Mother Superior, she talked about the mysteriousness of God's will. When my child was born and adopted by a rich American couple, I pretended not to hear the barren blonde woman say the same thing. This is meant to be, she said to my child."

  Miranda whirled. "This is meant to be?” Emerald drops fell from her wide eyes. "I will not be married to anyone who ignores me. I went to God for safety and he refused to give it to me. I have since divorced Him in my own way."

  Cary hesitated, then placed his hands on her trembling shoulders. Gently, he lowered his head so their foreheads touched. He ran through the list of movies in his mind that seemed applicable: Penny Serenade, Every Girl Should Be Married, None But the Lonely Heart. Even within these black and white testaments to his namesake, he couldn't find the wisdom to comfort her. So instead he held her. He'd learned that doing nothing sometimes was enough. They remained that way until her sobs subsided.

  Later they kissed.

  The next night she had to work late restocking shelves for a big blue light special. Before he turned in, he spent a few moments at Momma Desta's telling her about the events of the previous evening. She nodded and grinned wistfully as he shyly mentioned the kiss.

  After drinking a few glasses of Swan's Sorrow he returned to his studio apartment in the Vista Palms Hotel. He watched two movies from his 126 Cary Grant movie collection on his battered television and VCR.

  The first one was one of his favorites, Gunga Din. Based on the poem by Rudyard Kipling, it was the tale of three friends and a water-bearer to the British Army in India who try to stop the resurgence of a cult that worships murder. Victor McLaglen and Douglas Fairbanks Junior played the two friends of Cary Grant. Sam Jaffe played Gunga Din and Joan Fontaine played the love interest. Like always, it was a great romp of fighting and swearing and heroism.

  The second movie was one he'd never really cared for called Operation Petticoat. Empowered by the Swan's Sorrow, the movie was far different than he remembered. Tony Curtis and Dick Sargent played comedic seconds to Cary Grant's straight-laced submarine commander. Filmed in color, this was the first time he'd seen it as it had meant to be seen. And as the pink painted submarine traversed the South Pacific, he'd found himself laughing until tears tore from his eyes.

  He was standing in the bathroom brushing his teeth and still chuckling about the movie when he went blind.

  It only lasted twenty minutes, but for those twenty minutes he was utterly blind. Not merely colorblind, but completely blind and it terrified him like nothing had ever terrified him before.

  Sure, his vision had dimmed before. He'd even had headaches. But nothing like this had ever happened. No, nothing like this.

  He lay in bed curled up like a baby, fearful that it would happen again. Eventually sleep claimed him. When he awoke, he was grateful to see the low clouds harkening the gray, colorless dawn. He drank his morning coffee sitting in his single kitchen chair watching the cargo ships plod into the harbor.

  It didn't take a genius to figure it all out. He called in sick to his job waiting tables at the Lighthouse Deli. He couldn't wait until evening, so he went in search of Tudose. Cary needed to find out where Momma Desta spent her days. He had some serious questions to ask her.

  He found Tudose drinking fast food coffee, wrapped in his sleeping bag upon a perch in Sunken City. He too had been watching the ships come in.

  "Who goes there?" asked Tudose. He hefted a stick in his left hand.

  "Cary Grant."

  "Ah. You been down to Momma Desta's like I tell you?"

  "Yes."

  "Then she show you some magic. Good."

  So he knew about the magic. Cary suddenly wondered something. "What type of magic did she show you?"

  "She call it Swan's Sorrow," said Bob. He sat on the edge of a slab of broken asphalt. A chill breezed from the ocean and he hunkered down into his sleeping bag until it was over his head like a cocoon. "It be the magic of the Swan's Sorrow."

  "I know," said Cary. "She showed me the same magic. But what does it do to you?"

  "For me, it do everything. You see, Momma Desta returned my family to me."

  Cary was confused. He knew the story about the man's family and there was no way they could be returned to him. Twenty years ago Tudose had jumped ship, his goal to bring his family over from Romania when he got enough money.

  "When I drink, the Swan's Sorrow makes the world as it should have been."

  Tudose had scrimped and saved for five years. He'd almost saved enough for bribes and an Atlantic passage for his wife and two small girls when his flophouse caught fire, destroying everything he owned including the money stuffed in an old bowling bag.

  "Momma Desta makes it special for me. I drink then come back up here and play the harmonica. My family comes to life before me and we dance and sing and pray together."

  Undeterred, Tudose began saving his money again. He was four years into his second five-year plan when he received notice that his wife and two teenage girls had been killed and dumped into a mass grave after a purge from President Ceausescu. A year later the President was overthrown in a violent uprising.

  Cary noticed that Tudose was watching him. "I'm not so very crazy, you know? I know that my family is no more. But that is in this world and the Swan's Sorrow takes me to another, and in this other world they are very much alive." The fervent belief in the man's eyes was unmistakable.

  Cary nodded solemnly. "But does this Swan's Sorrow make other things happen?"

  Tudose cocked his head.

  "I mean," said Cary trying again, "are there any side effects?"

  Tudose took a slow drink from his Styrofoam cup and grinned wickedly. "Nothing's free in this world. Not even to a big famous movie star like yourself."

  Cary opened his mouth to ask again, but Tudose had already turned to watch another Evergreen container ship enter the harbor. He allowed his friend the peace. After all, perhaps this ship had originated in Romania.

  That evening he was the first one inside when Momma Desta unlocked the door. He made his way to his usual spot at the bar. Head down, his mood alternated between angry and confused. He didn't trust himself to make eye contact with her.

  Finally, she broke the silence.

  "Out with it. What's the problem with Momma Desta?"

  Cary mumbled something unintelligible.

  "Speak louder. If you mad at me, you need be telling me why."

  "I think I'm going blind," he sighed.

  "Then you better stop drinking the Swan's Sorrow," she said.

  Cary agreed, but knew that to stop drinking also meant that he had to stop seeing Miranda. He'd already proven that he couldn't love her without it. Some might say that it wasn't true love if he needed alcohol to make it work, but Swan's Sorrow wasn't merely alcohol. Momma Desta was right, the Swan's Sorrow was the key to worlds. In this case, the Swan's Sorrow gave him the perspective he needed to understand love.

  What had his mother said? “My black and white boy with the black heart, color is only perception, you know? Whether you know it or not, that black heart of yours is as red as red can be."

  He had the capacity to love, he just needed the perspective. He shook his head at the futility of it all. What could he do? What should he do? He stared into Momma Desta's big brown eyes.

  "Go with your heart," she said.

  What? Had she read his mind?

  "You mi
ght be the King of Black and White, but your mother was right. Your heart is red and red is the color of love."

  "How did you…"

  "Pah," she said flicking her wrist. "Child's play. You want to see real magic then just make Momma Desta angry."

  Cary stared wide-eyed.

  Momma Desta chuckled and poured him a cordial of the red magic. "But don't you worry. You a good boy, Cary Grant. A little stupid, but good all the same. Now, drink you stupid boy and go get your love."

  And so he did.

  Miranda was waiting for him at his apartment. It was a complete surprise, but not an unwelcome one. He ushered her upstairs and into his cramped quarters. He didn't have any music, but he put on the movie Hollywood On Parade 1933 which immediately leapt into the swinging sounds of a brass orchestra.

  She sat on his footstool waiting eagerly for him to join her. When he did, she melted into his arms. They kissed long and deeply. For a time, only the two of them existed.

  "I love you," he mumbled.

  "I love you too," she said.

  They kissed some more.

  When it was over, she spoke breathlessly. "They've found my daughter."

  Of all the things she could have said, this hadn't been one he'd anticipated. In truth, he hadn't even known she'd been looking.

  She took his silence as a cue to continue. "My mother sent a message to my sister. The man and woman who adopted my baby died in a car accident. They had no relatives so the baby was sent back to the orphanage in Hermosa." She shook Cary's shoulders. "Did you hear that? I can have my baby back if I want her."

  "How old is she now?"

  Miranda did some quick math on her fingers. "She'll be six in January." Her smile was so infectious Cary found himself smiling with her. "I'm just so excited."

  "So what are you going to do?" he asked, trying to sound excited.

  "I've put my notice in at K–Mart. I have one more week and then I'm returning home."