Modern Magic
Page 3
“And just who the hell are you to tell me what I need?” Laura’s eyes flashed angrily and her lower lip shook. “My life is shit. I lost my job because I’ve lost my license. I won’t have any money soon, because I won’t have a job. I used up most of my savings, for Christ’s sake, just to pay for rehab. I lay in the bathtub this afternoon and felt my life drain from me, and I was relieved. I was relieved,” she repeated, her voice rising, her face flushed. “Not scared, not terrified. Just goddamned relieved it was all over.”
“Laura, look, I know you’re going through a bad time, but let’s talk about this somewhere else, somewhere more private.”
She glanced around her, intercepting the stares of the other diners before they glanced away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Mike,” she said in a soft voice, blinking back tears again. “I didn’t mean to blow up at you – it’s just that this whole thing sucks.”
“I know, Laura. And I really do understand. Are you ready to go?”
At her nod Mike stood up, threw some money on the table and escorted her out of the diner.
Laura did not talk on the drive home. Mike made an attempt at conversation, but when her only responses were yes and no, he gave up and they finished their ride in silence. When they pulled up into her driveway, Laura rummaged in her purse and swallowed two more Valium. Mike gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing as he turned off the car.
In the darkness and relative seclusion of the car, Laura began to feel more at ease. “Mike,” she began tentatively, “I’m really sorry for making such a scene. You’ve been wonderful today. Hell, you were even wonderful when you arrested me and hauled me off to jail.” She glanced over at him and saw his broad grin.
“I like that, Laura. I never had anyone I arrested tell me how wonderful I am. I must associate with the wrong kind of criminals.” She winced at the word and he paused, softening his voice. “I’m sorry, Laura, I don’t think of you as a criminal. You made an error in judgment. And now you have a chance to correct that error. Oh, it won’t be easy, nothing like this ever is, but I promise you if you stick it out things will get better. You can trust me on that.”
“Okay,” Laura agreed meekly, “I’ll trust you. Would you,” she hesitated for a moment, picking an imaginary piece of lint from the car seat, “would you like to come in for a while?” She tried to make the question casual, teasing, but she held her breath waiting for his answer. I don’t want to go inside alone, she thought, it’s so dark and empty. But I’ve made myself enough of a fool in front of him, I can’t ask anything else of him. If he wants to go, I’ll let him go.
He heard the urgency in her voice, felt the tension build up in her small body. I shouldn’t get involved, he thought, it can only mean trouble later on. Now that my life is straightened out, I can’t let myself get drawn into someone else’s problems, especially hers. But he remembered her ashen face this afternoon, the way her body had fit against his, the glint in her eyes at the diner. What the hell? he thought. “I’d love to.”
“Put something nice on the stereo,” Laura instructed as she went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. After checking the cabinet for a minute she called back out to him, “All I have is caffeinated, is that okay?”
“Fine,” he answered, taking his attention from her CD collection for only a second. “You’ve got some real interesting stuff here, but nothing new.”
“New stuff is awful,” Laura said. “Give me the 70s and 80s any day.”
“Okay, then, what do you want to hear?”
“Anything – you choose.” She measured the coffee, poured the water and set out mugs and spoons. She took the milk out of the refrigerator, and after smelling it, promptly poured it down the drain. “I don’t remember, do you drink it black?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Good.”
Mike walked into the kitchen, a CD case in his hand. She glanced at it and saw he’d picked one of her favorites. “This okay?” he asked and she nodded with a smile.
“Perfect,” she said, “Costello fits my mood exactly.”
Mike went back to the living room and turned on the player.
“Coffee’ll be ready in a minute,” she called, “and turn it up a bit, please.” Laura glanced over her shoulder and saw that Mike was still studying her odd assortment of CDs, removing some from the stacks and setting them aside. If we listen to all of those, she thought to herself with a smile, he’ll be here all night. The idea was comforting, but she needed something more, so she opened the cabinet under the sink and brought out a small bottle of brandy. Just a touch, she promised herself as she poured some into her coffee cup. She looked around guiltily, but he hadn’t noticed, he was too busy adjusting the controls on the equalizer. She filled both cups with coffee and carried them to the living room.
“That sounds fine,” she said, handing him a cup. “Quit fooling with it; I’ll just have to change it all again when you leave.”
He sniffed at his cup appreciatively and an odd look crossed his face. Laura thought he seemed angry, but at the same time saw a sad longing fill his eyes. Suddenly she realized she had given him the wrong cup.
“This is yours,” he said tightly, “I like mine plain.”
“Oh, shit…I mean sorry, I must have gotten them mixed up.”
They switched cups and Laura blushed.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she began, “but I’ve had one hell of a day and…”
“Laura, I’m the one who should be sorry. I told you I understand and I do really. When I said what I did at the diner, I was out of line.” He moved across the room and sat down on the couch. “I’m not your keeper. I don’t have any right to tell you what to do. You’re in your own home and I guess if you want to drink yourself blind, you can. Just go easy, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed, “I’ll only have one.”
“If you can do that, then you don’t have the problem I think you do. But we’ll drop it for now.”
“Thanks,” she said, feeling more than a little bit stupid, but when she took a sip of her coffee she relished the soothing warmth of the brandy. “I wonder,” she said wistfully, as she curled up in an armchair, her hands cradling the cup, “if you ever lose the craving.”
“No,” Mike admitted, “you never lose it. But as time goes on it does get easier.”
“You sound so sure, I wish I could believe you.”
“Believe me, please. I know what I’m talking about. And it’s not just textbook knowledge. I learned it the hard way. Five years ago, I left rehab, and I’ve not had a drink since.”
Laura stared at him in shock for a minute. “You?” she stammered, “but you’re not a drunk, you’re not the type.”
“There is no type, Laura. You should know that right off. You don’t have to be stupid or disturbed or unbalanced. Some people just can’t drink; their minds and bodies can’t handle it without overdoing. I’m like that, and I think you are too. After you realize that, you can get on with your life.”
Laura took another sip of her coffee.
“But I said I’d drop it so I’ll quit lecturing right now. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?” Laura asked with a smile.
“Well,” he began, “we could start with your music collection…” Before he could continue an angry screeching echoed from the cellar.
Laura jumped up from her chair and spilled her coffee. “What the hell?” she said moving towards the hallway, but stopped when the wiry black body erupted through the cat door. “You bonehead,” she scolded, “look at the mess you’ve made. I ought to throw you outside for that.”
The cat gave her an aloof glance and began to groom himself, smoothing the raised hair on his tail and back.
“What’s eating him?” Mike asked, going into the kitchen for a towel.
“He’s a little strange.” Laura took the towel from him and began to mop up the spill. “He doesn’t take to people much, do you, boy? And he’s very easily spooked
. He probably saw another cat outside the sliding doors.”
“That’s a lot of noise from such a small cat.” Mike reached down to him tentatively and Laura was surprised to see the cat respond. “Have you had him long? He seems awful scrawny to me.”
“You should have seen him when I found him. He looked one step away from starvation. Since then he’s done nothing but eat and make trouble.” Laura’s voice sounded stern, but she couldn’t help smiling. “Most of the time he’s good company.”
The cat allowed Mike to pick him up and Laura laughed, “He likes you, you should feel honored. And he’s usually so choosy.”
Mike ignored the good-natured insult, “I like him, too. What’s his name?”
“Mostly I call him Bonehead, and he’ll answer to almost anything if he feels so inclined. Or nothing. But his formal name is Anubis.”
“Why Anubis?”
“Why not? It seemed appropriate when I found him. He was soaked to the skin, and so skinny that his most noticeable features were his pointy nose and his ears. He really has incredibly large ears for a cat. Somehow, he looked like those jackal-headed creatures you see in Egyptian pictures. So Anubis it was.”
Mike sat on the couch, petting the cat and listening to her explanation. He looked up at her suddenly, “You know, he’s been hurt.”
“Hurt? Where?”
“Here.” Mike carefully pointed out a nasty looking scratch on his left rear leg.
“Now, where could he have gotten that?” Laura bit her lip as she examined the wound.
“Does he go outside?”
“Not unless I let him out. He hasn’t been out for days, he really seems to prefer the indoors.”
“Well, this is fresh.” Mike showed her his fingers, dappled with blood. “What’s in the cellar?”
“Junk, mostly – boxes I haven’t unpacked yet, a washer and dryer, you know, standard cellar material.
“Anything he could scrape himself on?”
“I think there’s some old boards stacked in one of the corners. To tell you the truth, I don’t go down there too often.” She grew aware that her tone of voice changed and she wondered if he could hear the underlying fear. He looked at her questioningly. “I just don’t like basements,” she admitted, “they’re damp and dark and the ceilings are always too low. So I go down to do laundry and change the cat box. Otherwise, I stay away. I guess in addition to everything else, I’m slightly claustrophobic.”
“Do you mind if I check it out?”
“I’m not hiding anything illegal down there,” Laura smiled, “so be my guest.” She watched him open the door and go down the stairs, then walked to the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee. Anubis came in and rubbed himself against her legs, purring.
“Let’s see what we can do for your leg first, baby, and then I’ll give you some food.” She picked him up and carried him to the bathroom. He tensed in her arms as they entered, but relaxed as she whispered to him. Laura managed to daub a small amount of antibiotic ointment on his scratch, before he expressed his displeasure with a quick swat of his paw. “Okay, food now,” she agreed and let him down. He stopped for a minute at the top of the cellar stairs, gave a small hiss, and ran into the kitchen.
Laura was putting away the cat food, when Mike came back upstairs. “Find anything?” she asked casually as she closed the refrigerator.
“Not really, he could have done it on any number of things. You might want to check with the vet and see if he needs shots or anything.”
Laura walked to the cellar door, locked the knob and put the bolt into place. “Thank you,” she said, “do you want some more coffee?”
“Just a little bit more. I’ll have to go soon.” Mike smiled, glancing back at the door. “Do you have another animal in the house? A tiger, maybe?”
“What?”
Mike laughed. “That’s the biggest cat door I’ve ever seen in my life. And did you know you have more locks on your cellar door than most people in this neighborhood have on their front door?”
“The locks were already here when I moved in,” Laura said. “I guess I never really noticed how many there were.” She turned away from her lie and went into the kitchen.
“And the cat door?”
Laura shrugged, and mumbled an answer, holding out the coffee pot to pour him another cup.
Laura walked him to the front door, wishing he wouldn’t leave. She understood he had to go to work tomorrow; he’d already explained he worked the early shift. Her mind shouted for him to stay, Please don’t leave me alone, but outwardly she tried to stay calm and reasonable, saying all the standard phrases for an awkward first date. Yes, I had a nice time, and yes, I’d like to go out again, thank you very much.
He hesitated before going outside. “You’re really short, you know that?” He ruffled the hair on her head in an affectionate gesture, moving his hands down to her shoulders. “I know I was pretty rough on you tonight, Laura, with all my lecturing and advice. I don’t want to be pushy, but could you answer just one more question?”
She looked up at him, and saw the intensity of his eyes. “I’ll try.”
“Tonight, in the diner, when you were talking about your dream, you said you felt relieved that it was all over. Is that the way you really feel? Are you seriously considering suicide?”
If I said yes, she thought, he would stay with me. But sooner or later he’d leave; I can’t keep him here forever. Sooner or later, I have to face myself. “No,” she said, her voice steadier than she expected, “I’m not considering it now. I’ve never been of that frame of mind before.”
“Good.” Mike said, grasping her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. “I’d hate to lose you,” he whispered quietly into her hair.
Laura didn’t acknowledge the words, but she caught his meaning. She reached up and pulled his face down to hers. His hands fell to her waist and he lifted her for one long, searching kiss. Mike held her against him, then gently set her down and kissed the end of her nose. “See you later,” he said as he opened the door.
“You bet.” She watched as he got into his car and waved as he drove away. After shutting the front door and turning off the porch light, she walked into the kitchen to get her drink.
Once the small bottle of brandy was gone, Laura got ready for bed. She brushed her hair and teeth, humming to herself one of the songs Mike had played earlier in the evening, something about angels and red shoes. Laura sang it softly as she turned out the lights and crawled under the covers.
She stretched, rubbed one finger over her lips and smiled. “He’s nice,” she whispered to the dark room, “I really like him.” The cat door clicked open, not once but several times, accompanied by a light thumping on the cellar stairs and a faint scratching noise. “Dumb cat,” she murmured, rolling over into a fetal position. Only in the second before sleep claimed her did Laura’s drunken mind register the fact that Anubis was with her, awake and watching at the foot of the bed.
Chapter Four
“No, Mommy. Mommy, Mommy, no…”
Tony Wagner had been awake from the first moment of his daughter’s restlessness. He lay in bed and listened to her thrashing and hoped, as he always did, she would just fall back to sleep. But when her terrified screams began, he was at her side.
Night terrors, the doctor called them. Something that some children suffered from; most children, Dr. Wilkins had tried to reassure them, didn’t even recall the incidents the next morning. Not a sign of psychological problems, it was only a phase, like baby colic, that would be eventually outgrown.
Tony refused that textbook comfort as he held his youngest daughter’s trembling body. Although it had been four years since she last suffered this torment, he remembered the symptoms vividly. He knew she was still asleep, despite the fact her eyes were wide open. And he knew that tomorrow her fear would be forgotten. But tonight, like every other night, it seemed all too real.
She struggled against his embrace for a mome
nt, then relaxed as he crooned her name over and over, smoothing her damp hair. He thought he recognized the signs of the dream’s abatement, when suddenly her body tensed again. She turned in his arms and looked into his eyes. He repressed a shudder at her lifeless stare, knowing it was normal in her state. Always in the past, if she talked at this stage, the words were nonsense, without any connection to reality. But now she spoke to him, really spoke to him as if she knew the meaning in her words.
“Mommy’s hurt bad, Daddy. They say she has to die. They say she’s going to die. Why does Mommy have to die, Daddy?”
“Jesus,” Tony swore under his breath.
“I saw her, in the bathtub. And the water turned all red. It hurt bad, Daddy.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” he hugged her small body to him. “It’s okay, honey. It’s only a dream. It’s only a dream.”
Lizzy murmured something he couldn’t hear. He continued his crooning, rocking her gently back and forth. Eventually her body stopped shaking and relaxed completely. He shifted her in his arms and looked at her face. Lizzy’s eyes were closed now and her breathing calmed and slowed. The terrors were over.
For tonight anyway, he thought as he lay her back in bed and tucked the sheet around her chin. So small and delicate, she had inherited Laura’s build. Her looks, too, Tony thought as he pulled a tress of dark hair away from her face.
As he walked out of her room, he felt the familiar pangs of guilt about separating the children from their mother. Laura, when not drinking, had been a good mother. There was no doubt that she had loved her children, almost desperately. She had never been brutal or abusive; and the drinking hadn’t started until after Matthew died. Maybe he hadn’t been sensitive enough to her grief, to her suffering, but he’d been grieving too. And when Laura had turned to alcohol for comfort instead of him, he’d become cold and distant, so much so that he always felt that Laura’s problem had been partly his fault.
Tony opened the door of Amanda’s room; she still slept peacefully. It always amazed him how she never woke during one of Lizzy’s spells. Mandy must be, he thought, the most self-sufficient, stoic twelve-year old ever. And although she would admit now and then that she missed her mother, she had taken the separation well.