Modern Magic

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  He put his ears back and she nodded, scratching the top of his head. “Yeah, tomorrow.” She picked up the bottle of port and walked back to the dining room table. Sitting down, she poured another glass and bolted it down, then held the bottle up to the light. “This one’s practically a dead soldier anyway,” she laughed softly and poured the rest of it into her juice glass. “So that’s one less bottle to dispose of. We’re making progress at least.”

  Her laughter turned into tears, though, at the sheer loneliness of her life. The only voice she heard most days was hers. The only thoughts were the tortuous doubts and self-loathing of her own making. “Shit.” Laura put her head down on the table and allowed herself to cry.

  Weary from the emotional day, she felt herself dropping off to sleep as she cried. I should get back to bed, she thought, but the bedroom is just so far away.

  “It’s okay.” She heard a voice, not hers. Soft, childish, with a bit of a lisp, it sounded so much like Lizzy and Laura gave a little smile as she felt the tiny hand on hers.

  “It’s okay,” the voice repeated, “I know a place where you can be safe. Where you won’t be sad anymore.”

  “That would be nice,” Laura told the girl in what must be a dream. “But I don’t think there is such a place, anywhere.”

  “Oh, but there is.” The cold little hand tugged at hers. “And I know where it is. I can show you. Come with me.”

  “Later. I just want to sleep.” Memories of being passed out on the couch on a particularly bad day washed over her. Her reply now, like then, sounded slow and slurred. “I just want to sleep now, Lizzy. I’ll look at your painting later.” Feeling guilty, she nevertheless put her arm up to cover her eyes and knocked her now empty glass on to the floor. She faintly heard the glass shatter.

  “No. Please, Mommy, come now. Please? Pretty please?”

  That last plea reached Laura and she finally submitted to the insistent pull of the hand. It led her across the room, heedless of the shards of broken glass on the carpet.

  It led her past the kitchen, ignoring the bottles strewn around, ignoring the cries of the cat. They stopped in front of the door to the cellar.

  “You need to undo the lock, Mommy. I can’t reach it.”

  Laura’s hand went to the brass slide. The coldness of the metal seemed to burn her hand and she pulled back.

  “No,” the voice whispered, “You can’t stop. We’re so close now.”

  Chapter Seven

  Mike dialed Laura’s number for the fourth time. The first two times he’d gotten a busy signal, but the third time, there’d been some sort of interference on the line. It sounded almost as if someone had picked it up before it could ring and then stood far away from the receiver and whispered. Mike hesitated calling again when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but he smoothed it down, feeling silly, and gave it one last shot.

  This time the phone actually rang. And rang. And rang. Just as he was about to hang up, the ringing stopped.

  “ ’lo?”

  “Laura?”

  “Yeah.” She spoke slowly, as if she’d been sleeping.

  “Did I wake you? I’m sorry…”

  “No,” Laura said, her voice still quiet and distant. “I wasn’t sleeping. Or at least I don’t think I was sleeping. It’s weird – one second I’m sitting at the dining room table and the next I’m standing with my hand on the cellar door. I guess I planned on going down there. I’ve no idea why.”

  There was a long pause. “Hold on a second, okay?”

  “Sure,” Mike said and he heard the clatter of the receiver on the kitchen counter. He could tell she’d been drinking, but that didn’t matter. He of all people knew about those last desperate days before rehab; he was sort of surprised, actually, to find her awake and functioning. No, the drinking didn’t bother him, he realized, but her state of mind did. He remembered the dream she’d told him about yesterday when they’d had dinner; how could he have forgotten? And oddly enough, despite not having known Laura for long, the thought of her distress hit him right in the gut.

  Mike strained to listen to see if he could figure out what was happening. He heard Laura say “Ow.” And then, “Oh, shit.”

  “Laura,” he said loudly into the phone, “are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she picked up again. “Sorry. I cut my foot on some broken glass. Must’ve just happened, although I don’t really remember. But it’s fine now – I mean it’s not real deep or anything. Nothing a bandage won’t cure.”

  “Good.”

  Laura sighed. “Pretty much, it’s the perfect end to a perfect day like today.”

  “Sorry to hear that. What’s happening? And is there anything I can do?”

  Again there was a long pause on Laura’s end of the line. Mike could hear that faint whispering interference he’d gotten that one time he’d called. “Laura?”

  “Huh? Sorry, I sort of faded off. It’s been a really long day. I’ve been waiting all day for Lizzy to call. Finally, I called there only to get into a huge fight with Tony.”

  “Tony?”

  “My ex. He was being controlling as always; I decided I’d had enough and called him on it. He’s not fond of that.”

  Mike heard Laura give a soft chuckle. “No,” she said, her voice growing a bit stronger now, “he really is not fond of someone calling his bluff. The whole time we were married, I barely put up a fight about anything. But, you know, I don’t have to take it now, do I? And until Monday morning, I’m a free person – free to do what I want. Even if it means having a few more drinks over Tony’s comfort level.”

  Mike detected a note of defiance in her voice as if she were expecting him to argue with her. Maybe he would, if they were married and had years of history. But now, their relationship, if that is indeed what this was, was fragile. Like Laura. And she would be tested soon enough. Besides, it seemed her ex-husband piled her with more guilt than anyone needed.

  Mike jumped to her defense. “I already told you, Laura, I don’t mind if you drink. After rehab, it’ll be different, everything will be different, but you’ll have had a month of practice and you’ll learn different ways of coping with the cravings and the temptations. Alcoholism is a disease, regardless of what most people think, it’s not a weakness. Expecting you to cure yourself without the proper treatment is ridiculous. So drink up. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you to fall down those cellar stairs and break your neck.”

  Laura laughed. “If so, you’re the only one who doesn’t.”

  “Laura.”

  “Okay, okay, I know, I’m fine. Much better now, actually. You seem to manage to always come to my rescue. Thanks for calling.”

  “Well,” Mike said, “I wasn’t just calling to wake you up out of another nightmare, I wanted to ask what you were doing tomorrow. I have the whole day off and I thought we might make a day of it.”

  “I have absolutely nothing planned for the rest of the weekend. Except to find someone to look after the cat while I’m gone.”

  “Tell you what,” Mike said, “you give me your key and I’ll do that for you. But for tomorrow, I thought you might have some errands to run and I’ll provide the transport. Then I thought we’d just play it by ear. Maybe a picnic if the weather is nice. Plus, there’s a Saturday night AA meeting I usually attend and I kind of figured you might want to see what goes on at these things. There’s a woman there I’d like to introduce you to; if you hit it off she could be your sponsor.”

  “Whoa, cowboy, slow it down a little.” Laura’s voice grew light and teasing. “You’re gonna sweep me right off my feet with all this fancy planning.”

  “So the answer is no.” Mike failed to keep the disappointment from his voice.

  “No, silly. The answer is yes. Of course I’d love to spend the day with you. It’s very thoughtful of you.”

  Mike chuckled. “Thoughtful has nothing to do with it. I have ulterior motives, you know.”

  “Shhhh, don’t spoil
the surprise.”

  Mike could hear Laura stifle a yawn. “You should get to bed. I’ll pick you up around 9 o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “Man,” Laura said, “that really is early.”

  “Which is why you need to sleep now.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” A hesitant tone entered Laura’s voice. “I’m not sure I can sleep, though.” She paused again. “Mike?” Her voice wavered slightly. He wondered if she was crying.

  “I’m here.”

  “Mike.” She caught a breath. “I’m scared.”

  “Scared? Of what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Everything. Nothing. I’ve got this knot in the pit of my stomach that won’t go away. And it’s so dark here. And quiet. But not quiet. That sounds really stupid. Shit, I don’t know.”

  “It’s okay, Laura. I understand.”

  “Do you? Then maybe you can tell me what’s wrong. Because I sure as hell don’t. Nothing makes sense. So if you can explain it…”

  “I can do better than that. I can help you sleep.”

  “How?”

  “I’m going to wait on the line here. You do what you need to do to get ready for bed, put on whatever CD will relax you, crawl under the covers and I’ll talk you to sleep.”

  “Really? You’d do that?”

  The relief and gratitude in her voice made Mike happy he’d thought of it. “Of course I would.”

  “Okay, then, you hold on and I’ll be right back.” Laura set the phone down on the kitchen counter and smiled. He really was nice, even though she kept having hysterics when he was around. Maybe tomorrow, she thought, I’ll have a chance to show him my better side.

  She checked to make sure she’d locked the front door, then carefully walked into the dining room to pick up the broken glass so that the cat wouldn’t get into it while she slept. “Although,” she said, looking at Anubis curled up on one of the dining room chairs, “you usually have better sense than I do.” Fortunately, the glass only broke into four large pieces, easily found and discarded. She lifted her foot and looked intently at the sole, but couldn’t find anything wrong. “Weird,” she said to the cat. “Let’s get to bed.”

  She stopped in the bathroom on the way, washed her face, brushed her hair and teeth, took two of her Valium, stripped off her clothes and dropped them into the hamper. Then she padded out to the kitchen, picked the phone back up and deliberately left the light on. Back in her bedroom, she turned on her clock radio tuned to a mellow jazz station, and crawled under the covers, enjoying the feel of the clean sheets against her bare flesh.

  “Hey.” She giggled slightly into the phone. “I’m here. Are you?”

  Mike’s voice was like warm molasses, soothing and sweet. “You bet. Are you all settled in? Wearing your footed jammies?”

  Laura laughed again. “I don’t wear pajamas,” she said, then blushed.

  “Oh. That’s good to know, I guess.” Mike laughed a bit. “And here I’m all set to read to you from my favorite childhood book. Somehow knowing that you’re naked doesn’t really fit that image.”

  “So picture me in pink flannel jammies with a big bow in my hair if that makes you feel better. You’re going to read to me? No one’s done that since I was a small girl. What are you going to read?”

  “See if you can guess. ‘Chapter One: THE RIVER BANK. The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home.’”

  “Ooooh, this is one of my favorites too. How on earth did you know? I used to read this to Lizzy when she was real small.”

  “I just guessed. You seemed the type. I’m glad I’m right. Now be quiet and listen like a good little girl.”

  “Yes, Mike.” Laura smiled, snuggled into her covers with the phone pressed to her ear, focusing on Mike’s voice and allowing herself to relax and drift away to a simpler time. Anubis curled up next to her, purring loudly.

  “Is that you?” Mike asked.

  “It’s the cat – he’s enjoying this too. Please don’t stop.”

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the boys.”

  “Hey,” she giggled again, “get your mind out of the gutter and just read. Please?”

  And Mike did read. Laura remembered drifting off just as Rat was explaining to Mole about the Wild Wood.

  When she woke up the next morning, she felt rested and refreshed. She must have said good night and hung up at some point, for while the phone still nestled next to her cheek, it was turned off. Laura smiled. What a wonderful thing that was, to be read to again until she fell asleep. “I’m sure those nasty old nightmares were greatly disappointed,” she said to Anubis, who’d woken up and was stretching. “How about some breakfast for you?” She glanced at the clock, “And a quick shower for me. Mike’ll be here in about forty-five minutes or so.”

  Mike had planned out a lovely day for the two of them: breakfast at a small Airstream trailer diner which had the best peppered bacon Laura had ever eaten; a picnic (with a basket Mike packed himself) at a local park for lunch; and dinner at a small Italian place, complete with red and white checkered table cloths and candles dripping down the necks of old twine-wrapped Chianti bottles. In between the meals, they drove around, stopping at little shops in out of the way places. And they talked – about everything. Mike turned out to be very understanding and not at all judgmental. In fact, he seemed the total opposite of Tony, who always made her feel as if she lacked the elements needed to make her an entire person. As a result, the whole day proved something to Laura, something she desperately needed at this point in her life. She wasn’t a bad person, not at all. Instead she felt worthy, of life and of love. Of Mike’s love, although that would be something she wouldn’t mention now. It was much too soon. And rehab still loomed over her, like a giant black cloud. Let’s get that out of the way, she thought, before I start building a life around this man.

  Even the AA meeting turned out to be an interesting experience. “It wasn’t at all what I was expecting,” Laura said, as they pulled into her driveway.

  Mike chuckled a bit. “What did you expect?”

  Laura “I don’t know. Something a bit more evangelical, maybe – with lots of Praise-the-Lord and arm waving. The literature is so God and Jesus oriented. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but that approach doesn’t do all that much for me…”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe in God, I do, but, well, I’m not a religious person. I’ve not been to church…well, not for a long time. I was too angry, I think. None of it seemed to make sense, worshiping a god who would allow a little baby to die, much less my little baby. It just didn’t seem fair.”

  Mike nodded, reached over and touched Laura’s hand lightly.

  “I don’t feel all that much like abandoning control to a higher power.” She paused for a second, shaking her head. “I guess I’m still angry.”

  Mike held her hand now and squeezed it tightly. Laura ducked her head and smiled, in spite of the seriousness of their discussion.

  “Although, maybe that higher power could do a better job – I’ve pretty much mucked everything up all on my own.” She gave a sad laugh, then pulled away from his hand and picked up her purse from the car floor. “Want to come inside?”

  “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  As she opened the front door, her good mood dissipated and all of the good feelings she’d been building seemed to disappear. The day had been very nice, but like everything in life, it was temporary. Deep down inside she knew she was worthless. Unlovable.

  Laura sighed, walked into the kitchen and set her purse on the counter, checking the answering machine and finding no messages. As always. Why would anyone call me?

  Mike came up behind her and laid a hand lightly on her waist, resting his head playfully on her shoulder. “So, you must’ve had quite a party last night.”

  “What?” Laura saw the rows of bottles lined up on the counter. “Ah, I see. I’d planned on p
ouring these all down the drain, but you called and took my mind off of it all.”

  “I’m proud of you, Laura. In the same situation, I’d probably have tried to drink half of them.”

  She smiled at him. “I did drink some of the port.” She picked up the bottle and checked the level. “Correction – all of the port. But I need to get rid of the rest of this stuff, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, but I have a better idea. I’ll dump it all while you’re in rehab, so that when you come home again, it’ll be to a clean slate. I’m going to be here to feed the cat, anyway.”

  “That would be nice of you, Mike. I have to wonder, though, why you’d bother. What sort of ulterior motives do you have?” She gave him another smile to try to soften the sting of her words, hating herself for the sounds of the words, for the self-pity in her voice.

  “Laura…” Mike gently twisted her shoulders, turning her around to face him. He reached over and smoothed the back of his hand gently down the side of her face and she leaned into his touch. “I know you’re going through a bad time. I know that this thing between us has heated up much faster than either of us expected it to. But you have to know that I like you very much. You’re a beautiful, intelligent and fascinating woman. My ulterior motives are only these: I wanted to give you a good day to remember while you were in rehab, one which you enjoyed without having to drink; and I wanted to make sure you’d remember me.” He gave a soft chuckle and kissed the tip of her nose. “A month is a long time.”

  Laura wanted to believe him, but doubted in the back of her mind. He’s lying, he has to be. Who’d want a drunk like me? “That’s really sweet, Mike. I guess if I had to be arrested for DUI, I’m glad it was you. We might never have met otherwise.” Her mind raced; now that the day was over, he’d be leaving soon. And she’d be alone again. Alone with all the bottles and the temptation to drink and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she tried to envision a future without all the things that made her current life worthwhile. She pulled away from his embrace. “Want some coffee?”

 

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