The Real

by James Cole

  He faced Jinni and gazed into her sky-blue eyes and in all sincerity answered, “I do.”

  Detachedly he watched as something stirred in her eyes. Black swirled with the blue like mud into clear water. Jeremy glanced at the preacher to his left and at Tavalin to his right, but neither man seemed to notice the storm brewing in his bride’s eyes.

  Jeremy blinked once, twice and again. All about, change was afoot. The sanctuary had become dirty and dilapidated. Light no longer streamed in through the stained glass windows, darkened as they were by drapes of grime. The flower bouquets had become rotten and were grown over with thick colonies of black mold. The few stubby candles that still burned emitted more black smoke than light. The guests’ formal wear was tattered and soiled as if they had just endured a bomb blast.

  Fluttery movement summoned Jeremy’s attention back to his bride, whose gown and hair gathered life from an air draft. Jeremy could not see her features because her hair, now black-hole black, veiled her face. So similar were her hair and dress in color and motion that he could not tell where one stopped and the other began. Despite the ambiguity, he knew that it was Monika who stood in Jinni’s place.

  The wind intensified in sound and fury. All manner of debris – loose papers, dirt, and leaves – careened wildly through the air. Sparing no one, the wind whipped every person’s hair and clothes into frantic motion. Yet, only Jeremy seemed alarmed. He looked to the preacher, but he had been replaced by a woman with wild eyes and wiry gray hair and an aura steeped in wickedness. Jeremy watched in disbelief as she seemed to be suspended on the bellows of her dress as it flapped violently in the wind. No part of her body touched the floor.

  The old woman and Monika spoke in unison. They said, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  How he knew he did not know, but it dawned on Jeremy that the levitating woman was none other than Claire Wales, the hippie queen. She had not died in the commune fire after all.

  Jeremy jerked his hand from Monika’s grip but it was too late. She had already slipped on the ring. Thorny projections on the inner surface of the ring dug into his flesh like anchors. With revulsion he watched the blood run down his finger, spiral down his forearm and drip from the point of his elbow. Jeremy tried to remove the ring but it wouldn’t budge, even with the blood as a lubricant. Beside him, Tavalin jumped and screamed like a cheerleader in a rapturous state of celebration.

  Jeremy looked to Monika who seemed unaffected, if not amused, by the spectacle. She spoke to him in a soothing tone. “Listen to the music,” she said. “It helps you to become.”

  “What music?” Even as the words formed on his lips there was music. Jeremy recognized the pounding music as that of Singe and the melody, none other than the song he loved. His eyes followed the source of the music to the balcony. The members of the band were there, clad in black and perched among the steep amphitheatre seating like four crows in a tree. The congregation rocked in their seats, moving as if hypnotized by the beat.

  Jeremy’s attention revolved back to the master of ceremonies. Claire was saying, “… let no man or god put asunder. You may kiss your bride!”

  Jeremy opened his mouth, meaning to voice his objections, meaning to give lip-service to his confusion, but his words were stifled by a consummating kiss.

  Everyone in the sanctuary erupted in applause, save Grady, who was the only one who remained unchanged, in his original clothes and holding his original stance in the middle of the church. Impossibly, his hat remained stuck to his head in spite of the windstorm.

  Grady spoke in still quiet voice that Jeremy somehow heard despite the ruckus. “The task falls to you,” stated Grady.

  “What task?” asked Jeremy.

  “You must destroy the Source.”

  Before Jeremy could ask any more questions the church began to spin, slowly at first and then faster and faster like some twirling fair ride. The words of the carnie pinball game resonated in his brain: Ya spin the wheel, ya take ya chances. The guests laughed and screamed with glee but Jeremy felt no thrill, only a sickening sensation of impending doom. A force tugged at his body and sucked him down a dark drain, spinning and falling, five words in his head repeating: Till death do you part, till death...

  Chapter 37

  Sunday, December 7

  Late in the morning, Jeremy awoke, soaking wet. His mind, like a malfunctioning computer, crunched only confusion. He did not comprehend that his drenched sheets derived from his own cold sweat, nor could he readily accept the transition from the spinning church to his bed.

  Gradually, as he moved toward a more cognizant state, Jeremy realized that the ceremony was only a dream. There was no dilapidated church, no thorny ring, and no evil-scary hippie queen floating about. He did not wed Monika when he meant to marry Jinni. He could relax and let go that feeling of impending doom.

  Can I now?

  As the paint brush of his recall colored in the blank spots, his anxiety found a new home. He had invited Jinni over last night to give her the engagement ring – to ask her hand in marriage. It was supposed to be a beautiful and sacred night that they both would fondly remember for the rest of their days. Instead, he shot an arrow, loaded with the poison of his deceit and unfaithfulness, through Jinni’s heart.

  He had to call her. Jeremy didn’t know what he would say or even what he hoped to accomplish, but he had to at least try to apologize. He gave himself twenty minutes to shake off the cobwebs before dialing her number. As her phone began to ring, that same feeling of impending doom from the dream returned. Two rings… three…four… Coward that he was, Jeremy’s hopes rose when it appeared that Jinni would not pick up.

  Just when he was sure her voice mail would answer, he heard the familiar click of a connected line. Jeremy likened the sound to the click of a gun’s safety disengaging.

  Jinni’s voice: “What do you want?”

  “Can we talk?” he asked tentatively.

  “If we must.” Jinni’s tone was hostile.

  Jeremy could hear outdoor sounds in the background on Jinni’s end. “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I just got out of church.”

  “Listen, if now is not a good time…”

  “Let’s just get this over with,” insisted Jinni. “What’s her name?”

  “It’s Monika,” Jeremy replied, meaning to answer her questions in a forthright manner. “Don’t ask me what her last name is because she never told me.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “I went out with her once before, a few weeks ago.”

  “Where did you meet her?”

  “At the Singe show.”

  “The one I went to?”

  “Yes, Halloween night. If you remember, I went to the bar to buy the first round of drinks. The line was long and she asked me to get her a drink.”

  “And you paid for it?”

  “No, she did.”

  Jeremy remembered how he had saved the five dollar bill Monika gave him that night, the one with the repeated words lining the borders of the bill, burn baby burn baby burn...

  “And then what happened?”

  Jeremy could see that the full disclosure route would not likely lead to redemption. “I don’t see how these details are going to help the situation,” he replied.

  “You’re the one who wanted to talk,” said Jinni, unrelenting.

  “I really just called to say that I’m sorry and to tell you that nothing of consequence happened between her and me last night.”

  Jeremy chose carefully his wording so as not to lie. It was true that nothing of any real consequence happened last night.

  “So that whole lie you cooked up about Tavalin’s car being broken down – you did that just so you could get rid of me?”

  “When she called, Monika threatened to come up to the condo and so, yes, I lied. I intended to tell her to get lost. I was trying to do the right thing. It just didn’t exactly work out like that.”

  “Did you kiss he
r?”

  “Yes, but that was as far as it went.”

  “And you did drugs with her, right?”

  “Yes, but nothing illegal.”

  “What was it, then? It wasn’t aspirin that made your eyes look like they did.”

  “It’s called the Unreal.”

  “Can you hold on a minute?” asked Jinni. “You’ll never guess who just walked up.”

  Jeremy heard Jinni’s muffled voice in the background, asking, “Is that really you, Grady?”

  After a long pause, Jinni came back on the line. “Okay, I’m back.”

  “Was that Grady you were talking to?” asked Jeremy. “My Grady?”

  “In the flesh.”

  Jeremy wanted to ask what Grady was doing there but Jinni quickly revived the prior, unpleasant subject.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said. “You lied to me to get me out of your apartment, you met up with this girl, spent all night out with her, did some weird drug with her, kissed her – and yet you claim that nothing of consequence happened?”

  “More could have happened, had I been willing.” For the first time since the interrogation began, Jeremy replied in a less than conciliatory tone.

  “More?” Jinni was livid. “Tell me this, did more happen the other time you went out with her?”

  “I don’t see how any of this is helping...”

  “Were you intimate with her?”

  Though he knew it was coming, this was the question Jeremy most feared. “Jinni,” he pleaded, “please believe me when I say I didn’t plan for any of this to happen.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Jinni was almost wailing. “Why, oh why did you do it?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “Somehow I just got sucked in. The thing is, in spite of it all, I never stopped loving you.”

  “Don’t!” she demanded. “Don’t you dare say that! You don’t know what love is. Love is keeping your word and being loyal no matter what. I loved you. What you gave to me was considerably less.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, realizing that Jinni’s expression of her love for him might forever be relegated to the past tense. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “You can say goodbye.”

  “Jinni, don’t-”

  “You wear me out,” Jinni said with a lifeless tone. “Have a nice life.”

  The line went dead. Jeremy had entered into this lion’s den of a conversation not knowing what he hoped to accomplish. Being disemboweled by the lion, however, was not it.

  Chapter 38

  Monday, December 8

  Monday night, before Jeremy went to bed, he flipped on the television. Ever since June’s death three weeks ago, and especially for the past four days since he had been identified as a person of interest, Jeremy found himself obsessively checking the news stations for any freshly-disseminated information. The breaking news of this moment provided a shock that Jeremy did not anticipate. Apparently, no longer would he be of consideration in the murder, at least according to the anchor’s breathless spiel.

  He was saying, “…repeating the top story of the hour, there has been a break in the much publicized murder of graduate student June Song. It is now believed that a janitor who worked in the same building murdered Ms Song. We have just learned that the alleged killer has himself been found dead by apparent suicide and that certain, unspecified human remains, presumably from the murder victim, were discovered at the scene. An anonymous source connected with the local police department in Destiny informed CNN that while DNA tests on the remains have not commenced, the evidence strongly suggests that the janitor was indeed the perpetrator of this horrific murder. The motive for the killing is unknown at the present time…”

  Immediately, Jeremy rang up Tavalin at home. Together they listened in on the unexpected development.

  “That’s it, then,” remarked Tavalin when the segment was done. “You’re off the hook.”

  It wasn’t until Jeremy hung up the phone that Tavalin’s words sank in. The ordeal was over. A part of Jeremy felt like jumping for joy because this meant he was free from all the accusations. In an instant, the news stripped away the possibility of his arrest and punishment for a crime he did not commit.

  As for Grady, Jeremy now perceived him as the evil, despicable man that he was. Never again would Jeremy foster anything but hatred and disgust for the man who murdered his good friend June.

  The worst of what Jeremy felt was a devastating wretchedness for June. She had undeservingly been snatched away from this life and nothing, not even the killer’s demise, could bring her back from the great beyond.

  Chapter 39

  Tuesday, December 9

  For several days running, Jeremy had attempted to contact Jinni but she refused his calls. By the time Tuesday afternoon rolled around, after the last in another spate of rejected phone calls, he had had enough.

  Angry and frustrated, Jeremy swung by Tavalin’s apartment and convinced his friend, who was studying, to take a break. Over a hamburger and French fries at the local dive, Jeremy purged, filling Tavalin in on the details of his infidelity with Monika and subsequent breakup with Jinni.

  “Why didn’t you tell me more about this Monika girl before?” asked Tavalin.

  “Because I was afraid you might accidentally say something in front of Jinni,” replied Jeremy. “I know how that mouth of yours operates independently from your brain.”

  “And yet, it was your own stupidity that got you caught. All you had to do was call me the night you got caught and let me in on your lie.”

  “I told you before, I did try to call but you didn’t answer. And,” Jeremy added, “you never did call me back, either.”

  “I tried to call you, just as I’m sure Jinni did. You said you went to the lake. You were out of range. Admit it, Jeremy. This time, it’s all your fault.”

  “Yeah, I guess. But it’s only been four days. Jinni still might come around.”

  “Face the music, Jeremy. Jinni ain’t coming back.”

  “You might be right.”

  “So what about this other girl?” asked Tavalin. “Are you going to go out with her again?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Jeremy. “Monika isn’t the easiest person in the world to track down.”

  “Maybe she’ll show up again, like she did before.”

  “I probably don’t need that complication in my life right now anyway,” Jeremy said, for some reason feeling it necessary to downplay the desire he felt for Monika.

  *****

  Late that night, Jeremy was roused from his recliner by a knock on the door. The fisheye lens in the peephole distorted her face, but not so much that he didn’t recognize his uninvited guest.

  “May I come in?” Monika asked when he opened the door.

  Jeremy stepped aside and invited her in with a sweep of his hand.

  “Where’s Jinnigirl?”

  “I have no idea,” Jeremy replied. “I don’t think we have to worry about her dropping by tonight – or, for that matter, ever.”

  “Because of me?”

  “I believe you already know the answer to that question.”

  Monika slung her arms around his neck. “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied. “I knew the chance I was taking.”

  “Did you get the ring back?”

  “I’ve got the ring.”

  Jeremy did not bother to tell her that Jinni never even knew he bought the engagement ring.

  “Look on the bright side,” she quipped. “Think of all the money you saved.”

  He asked, “So, did you mean all that stuff you were spouting at the fountain the other night?”

  “Why would you think that I didn’t?”

  “It just seemed a little surprising.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s difficult to think of you in the role of my girlfriend when you still haven’t told me one solitary thing about yourself.”


  “I always mean what I say,” declared Monika. “What do you want to know?”

  “For starters, how about your last name?”

  “It’s Lyons,” she replied. “Satisfied?”

  “How about a phone number?” he asked.

  “I’m signing up for a new mobile phone tomorrow. As soon as I have my new number, I’ll give it to you. What else?”

  “Where do you live?” he asked.

  “It’s a really tiny place way out in the sticks. I can take you out there sometime but your place is ten times nicer. Now,” she added, “I’ve got a question of my own.”

  “Shoot.”

  “What about Jinnigirl? Is she really out of the picture now?”

  For better or worse, Jeremy’s dilemma had been settled. “Yes,” he said. “That bridge has burned.”

  “Burn, baby, burn,” added Monika.

  “Ha, ha, very funny.” Jeremy was not nearly to the point of being able to make light of Jinni’s departure, although he had to admit that Monika’s presence made the transition more bearable.

  “Speaking of getting things out in the open…” he began, “Though I never could wring out any of your personal information, I did manage to learn a thing or two about your little pick-me-up.”

  “You mean the Unreal?”

  “I know where it comes from.”

  Jeremy shook his head knowingly. For once he loved this game, playing as such from a position of strength.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

  He opened the bay doors and let the first bomb drop. “I am aware of the connection between the hippie queen – Claire – and the Unreal. I know the Unreal comes from the flower of a certain water lily, the purple lotus discovered by Claire in the swamps of Reefers Woods, to be exact.”

  Monika glared at him. “How in the world did you come up with that?” she asked.

  “I figured it out.” Jeremy grinned some more but did not immediately elaborate.

  “I need for you to tell me what led you to believe such a thing.” The muscles in Monika’s jaw clenched and unclenched while she waited for his answer.