He left them once just before her eighteenth birthday. It was 1975. Belle forced him out. He’d let the family down with his “indiscretion.” When it happened, she lashed out, rebelled, cut off her jeans like a leftover hippy, smoked pot, and messed around with a boy in the costume room behind the school’s theatre all before her parent’s divorce settlement.
Back further, to the early 60’s, dust storms rolled into the desert basin like a tsunami over innocent beaches raping the land. The storms were some of her earliest childhood memories. She remembered lying on her back, her mother pumping the rocking chair under them and watching through a screen-door a brewing storm rage out past the tops of neighborhood houses, out past a low line bowl of sage scented mountains, out past the ends of earth for all she could see through the door, there on her mother’s lap. The vision crystallized in her mind.
Euly would lie on her back when afternoons dipped into evening, after dinner time when no one else was home – not dad, not Enaya. She drank chocolate milk out of a coke bottle made with Nestlé’s powdered chocolate and ice cold whole milk. Belle mixed it in green Coke bottles. She remembered her mother holding the bottle with one thumb pressed over the opening and shaking it to mix the ingredients. Belle would lick her thumb and hand the bottle over to Euly. It was their ritual. The earlier Euly could remember, the more pleasant the visions became however finite.
And, Belle, tortured with a fear of thunder storms, let her fear bleed out onto her girls. She was born at a time when the heat played tricks on people’s eyes – when mirages slid across the earth like ghosts, when stargazers could watch Leo prowl the evening sky. Her mother, sick and tired of the pregnancy, released Euly late one day in the middle of August.
That day, a coming storm played havoc on Belle’s nerves. That’s what she told her girls – Euly was born in the middle of a storm.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Euly's mind snapped back to Moon's words. “Oh, my God. Of course, I remember.” Aunt
Moon’s comment shook Euly out of her trance. She spoke in a quieter voice. “I remember those parties, Eu.” She seemed to detect Euly’s mood and nearly whispered after her first sip of Arak.
“Not those parties, auntie, that party, the last one. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh my, yes. It was horrible. That poor little girl.”
“Well, auntie, I’m trying to find out as much information about her as possible. I’m writing my memoir and wanted to start the story there, at that time in my life.”
“A memoir? Isn’t that fascinating?”
“Well, I hope so.” She looked hard at her aunt. “Mother told me some things about that party, other things, that I wanted to verify with you.”
“Well, I’m sure she remembers it well. It was a very sad day.” She shook her head as she remembered. “You know her brother died just before they moved out here.”
“That’s what you told me when I called. It’s awful.”
Aunt Moon shook her head as she suckled her drink.
“Have some baba.” She spooned the dip out onto a plate and loaded Euly up with pita bread. She slathered dip onto one of the pieces of bread and shoved half of it into her mouth. The lemon was first to hit her then the garlic. The salty flesh of the eggplant melted over her tongue and she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, auntie, it’s just like I remember.
Wonderful.”
“Well, we have lots. Eat. You need to eat.” She now understood how her body had gotten the curves it had today.
“What happened to them – the girl’s family?”
“Well, the father died of heart failure not long after, maybe a year, no, it was more like two or three years after the little girl drowned. And, the oldest brother fell to pieces. He became a drunk and I think he even did marijuana. So sad.”
“Is the mother still alive?”
“Oh, yes. I see her occasionally still at the Cedar Club. She is a strong woman. Had to be, I suppose. What else can you do? She only had one child left but you stay alive for that one, you know? Can’t take your own life. God doesn’t look happily on that.” She picked up a piece of bread and scooped up a dollop of baba, folded it into her pita and ate the whole thing in one bite.
“I can’t imagine. I know I haven’t had any children of my own but, still, I just can’t see how someone can live through that.” As she spoke it, she realized how her aunt must feel about the subject. “Oh, auntie. I’m sorry. I’m being so careless about your feelings.”
“No dear. No need to apologize. I love thinking about my darling Micaiah. He was a gentle boy.”
“It must be so painful.”
“It is. Even after this long. I cry every single day.” Her eyes began to well up and she stared straight at Euly, almost freezing in place.
“Mother told me some things, you know.”
She charged forward hoping to distract her aunt from crying.
“About what, dear.” She dabbed her nose with her napkin.
“About when you all were younger. Silly things. Irresponsible things.”
“Well, we were kids too, you know. We made mistakes.”
Euly stopped talking and ate a couple more bites before getting her nerve. “You and dad were close.”
“He was an angel. We were best friends, Eu.”
“You dated before mother and he were married, isn’t that right?”
“Ancient history. It was only for about a year.
Then he met your mother and that was that.”
“I thought you broke it off after you met Uncle Teddy.”
“It all happened around the same time, honey. One left, the next showed up. It was a long time ago.”
“Mother mentioned there might’ve been a little, oh god, how do I say this. Lag time between you and dad.”
“Lag time? What do you mean?”
“You know, that it wasn’t all the way over when mother came into the picture.”
“That’s not how I remember it. But, we were always close. We knew each other when we were kids grew up together. We moved down the block from your grandparent’s house and Ray and his brothers were always around. You know, just kid stuff, until we got older, that is.”
“Why would mother think there was something else?”
“Honey, how should I know? But, I don’t remember anything else. I don’t think I do. It all happened within a matter of months, as I recall. Belle showed up. Teddy showed up. I’m not sure who came first now that you mention it.”
“It’s kind of important to me, auntie.”
“For your memoir, you mean?”
“No, well, yes that but also it’s important to our family.” Euly was fighting the urge to blurt out the question but was losing the battle.
“It’s important to our family who came first – your mother or Uncle Teddy?”
“Well, no, not when you put it like that.”
“Honey, what’s troubling you?” Her aunt saw her frustration and Euly wondered if she were frowning. “Just ask me.”
“Just ask you, huh?”
“Yes. What’s so hard about that?” She set down her baba and leaned in.
“It’s not like we were ever related, right? Not biologically, right?”
“No but we were as good as.”
Euly leaned back in her chair and put her fork down. She grabbed her Arak and slugged it back.
“Euly. What is it?” Aunt Moon forced.
“Mother said that you and dad were not quite over with when you and Uncle Teddy got together and Uncle Teddy married you because you were pregnant. There.” She breathed out relief.
“What! Why would your mother say something like that!
“She said that Micaiah was my biological brother, my half-brother and that she wanted me to know that I had a brother before she died.”
“Good God.”
“So, what does that mean? Is it true or not?”
“It’s most certainly not true.”
“She
said you would say that too.”
“Oh, my God. Do you believe her?”
“She is my mother, auntie.”
“She’s lying.”
“She said you might say that too, auntie and that you had the birth records to prove it.”
Aunt Moon sat unmoving and stunned. Euly went on.
“She said that I should ask you to see Micaiah’s birth record.”
“There’s nothing on his record that proves your father is Micaiah’s father.”
“So it’s your word against my mother’s.”
“I suppose it is.”
“Can I at least see the birth record?”
“If I can’t prove the matter one way or the other then what’s the point?”
“I just thought it would help me somehow.”
“Help you how?”
“I don’t know maybe I could be able to tell one way or the other.”
“How about this, my dear, how about you request an exhuming, dig up my poor dead son’s body, do one of those, uh, uh, DNA tests and find the truth out that way!” She stood. “You’ve more than worn out your welcome, young lady. You’d better go.”
“Auntie. I’m sorry but if I could just see his birth certificate, I know I could tell.”
“Now!” She lifted her arm and pointed to the door. “You have to leave. You come here and insult me like this after everything. I won’t have it. Now, leave. This instant.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
“She made me leave.”
“It couldn’t be your winning personality, could it?”
“What does that mean,” It wasn’t a question but a demand.
They were in the arms of an argument and she wasn’t about to back down.
“Look, Euly. All I know is you have a way about you. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“A way.”
“Yes. A way. And you never let up.”
“You have no idea what even happened and you’re telling me it’s my fault.”
“I can only imagine.”
“You know, Geoff, if you could imagine you’d understand why I’m here and you’re there. Goodbye.” Officially, saying ‘goodbye’ meant she hadn’t hung up on him. Geoff hated people hanging up on him, especially Euly. She remembered once when she had. He called back immediately and told her never to do it again. He added emphasis by telling her to pull her head out of her ass. At the time, it was funny. Now, however, it felt sickening. At dark crevice in the back of her mind, she couldn’t believe she was married.
She felt as though they couldn’t talk to each other anymore. Their conversation got off to a rough start and tumbled into a battle. She’d only intended to ask why he hadn’t answered the phone but her question sounded contrived. His retort felt like an accusation. She ended the conversation wondering why she called at all. What she really wanted was to tell him she missed him, tell him about what happened with her aunt. She tried but he baited her.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
The sun was warm through the hotel window where she dunked her tea bag into the steeping water. She was lounging and felt ill-prepared to start another day. She awoke with a sense of being unconnected. Her dreams were so out of line with her life. In this one, she was getting married to a younger man and had to break it off with her previous husband. These two people painted their walls creating a new environment meant to be creative and all about art. Janie, Euly’s hairstylist, sat her in the chair, tipped her back in a freakish massage position meant to relax her before the cut. She sputtered whispers into Euly’s ear as she leaned her backwards almost into a lying position. That’s when Euly awoke feeling disoriented and in a bad mood.
It felt wrong. Meeting Clive had felt wrong.
Not because he’d made a pass at her although that was enough to make Euly not want to return but, something else. She couldn’t put it together. She’d been preoccupied by his style and didn’t always hear what he was saying, only how he was saying it. Damn. She was trying to remember his words. She cursed herself for having forgotten the recorder.
She knew she needed to talk to him once more and she dreaded it. He would take it as a come-on to his advances. They had history. Nothing serious but their history was enough to make him think her visit might be something more.
It was in college. He wanted to meet for cocktails.
“Just to talk.” He laughed at the suggestion. To Euly, it meant more. He wanted to sleep with her. It was a time when sex was what you did on a date there was no feeling around under a blouse in fumbling for the clasp of a bra, bras were optional. By then, she had a place of her own. His place was with Sandy but only months before they divorced and a year before she killed herself.
“We can meet at Houston’s and after that, I don’t know. We could go to your place.” After say 'yes,' Euly stood him up.
It was too weird even for her, even at that time in her life when she was a wild one. The late
70s were making a turn into the 80s. By then, she’d found herself fully imbued in the culture- free love and drugs.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
An absent moon made the night even darker. Wild Thing played on the radio. It was long ago, around the age of seventeen.
Euly put a hand over her eyes just thinking about it. She’d had sex with two boys at once. They tangled together, one boy below her hips and she at the other boy’s groin. Every point of the business muddled into a mix of arms and legs, breasts and genitalia. No one spoke. They simply continued the process to its natural end.
It was during this interlude a thought struck her: life might not continue simply as it once had.
Her mind wandered. What made her do it – the act itself?
At this stage of her life, she couldn’t remember the events leading up to it. It was so long ago. Still, through it all many things came to mind.
One foremost thought, was of the complicated human-animal urge.
That urge we succumb to in the latest hour, the darkest of places, through exhaustion or illumination – that urge.
The urge when you ask yourself, “why not?”
The urge that makes men leave their families for a sampling of something new. The visceral pang we cannot control, don’t want to control.
That urge.
Another thing crossed Euly's mind, the notion of polygamy and how readily Christians reject the precept and remembering a Mormon girlfriend back then. She wondered, as the three fluxed in constant motion, in the throes of passion, if polygamy mightn’t be a better choice.
However, after bodily fluids dried up and the glow had died away, Euly's feelings changed in distinct steps – feelings from the act itself, that glorious interlude to an eventual thank you and two goodbye kisses, to embarrassment and, then, to downright shame.
It made her think of a joke. The one about a doe that bounds out of the woods and breathlessly vows, “I’ll never do that for two bucks again!”
She began to ponder the bible and Adam and Eve. The writings say that in the Garden of Eden after the consumption of the apple from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, Adam tells God, “I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself”.
Yet, before eating the forbidden fruit, Eve and Adam bounded happily about, stark raving naked, unaware of their form. But then they did—upon the advent of their sin, when Eve handed sin over and Adam ate the apple. It was only then they felt sin strip them. It was then they sewed fig leaves into clothing to cover their bodies.
Anyway, in terms of the Bible, after their three-way Euly supposed she took cover too.
Because of her upbringing – mass every Sunday and catechism every Saturday – she felt innocence dissipate overnight and watched as the snake hung so close to her in the tree.
Yet, over thirty years later, when she pondered that night and remembered the boys, she remembered it now with warmth and asked herself, “How can that be?”
She wondered how such a disdainful
act could lend itself to a memory of tenderness? Can time feign atonement? Who knew?
Today, the act seemed as if it had happened outside her—as though it happened to someone else and she were merely the storyteller of that girl.
Did she tell anyone? Hell no! She never told a soul.
Could Clive have found out? Euly doubted it. But, even if Phoenix was a large city, it still had a small town feel. People were connected. People knew people. People had found out too much about her. She’d gotten away once and wondered if she could do it again this time. What was the old adage? You can run but you cannot hide.
Their conversation jingled like pennies in a pocket, like someone walked by you while your head was down, like being unmissed. Had Clive alluded to something she didn’t hear? She was usually quick to the draw on innuendo but felt like she’d missed important parts of their talk. Or, was she simply fabricating a way to add apprehension to another meeting with him.
It was years ago. They were younger. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care anymore. She couldn’t get out from under the shadow of the bible when she played the era out in her mind. A trickle of sweat leaked from under her left breast, the larger one, and she wiped it off by stuffing her cotton pajama top into the fold of her skin. She hated this town.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
When no one answered, Euly went around to the side to check in the window of Aunt Moon's garage and found her car gone. She dropped her arms and looked one way then the other. She sighed. After speaking with Geoff about the visit, she wanted to apologize to her aunt for her behavior. She wanted to make amends and explain the loss she felt. She needed her aunt’s forgiveness. She wanted to say it didn’t matter anymore and she was sorry.
Her time in Phoenix so far was fraught with bad memories and bad habits. She opened her bag and grabbed a pen and paper. She would leave her message on her door by slipping it into the crack of the screen door. After writing it, she folded it one, twice, three times. If Aunt Moon wanted to, she could call Euly on her cell and they might be able to meet up again and, hopefully, make up. She hoped they would. Her aunt was a gentle elderly woman. She didn’t want her aunt’s last memories of her to be about their last visit together. Euly had no doubt she would forgive her for the way she acted yesterday and forgive the things she said.
The Last Maharajan (Romantic Thriller/Women's Fiction) Page 8
