by Yael Levy
“May I cut in?”
Goldie glanced away from Charlie to see the man who’d interrupted their dance. He was shorter and quite large, his thinning hair brushed over his balding temple.
Goldie hesitated.
The man pushed Charlie aside and grabbed Goldie’s hand. Charlie raised his eyebrow, as if waiting to see what Goldie would want.
“Okay.” She shrugged, and allowed the man to hold her, as he placed his meaty hand on her lower back—but she didn’t break her gaze with Charlie. The man mumbled something about how the servicemen were like riffraff, and Goldie tuned him out.
As soon as the song ended and the guests began to clap, Charlie sauntered over to her and held out his hand.
The man watched as Goldie took it, and allowed Charlie to lead her to the veranda outside.
“You didn’t seem to be enjoying that dance, much.”
The night was dark, save for the stars and candlelight, which graced the few empty tables outside.
She laughed. “Oh, don’t mind Alfred. My mother has been insisting I allow him to court me—”
“But?” Charlie turned away.
Goldie continued. “But I told her I’d only court a man I could love.”
The music started and Charlie enveloped her with his strong arms, as she leaned her head on his shoulder and they began to dance.
“That’s my favorite song,” Charlie murmured.
“Mine too,” she whispered.
“Really?” he said quietly as he held her close.
“It is now,” she said and they continued to dance together on the empty veranda for what felt like forever.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Goldie opened her eyes. She was hovering beside the big Southern football player who was sleeping peacefully on a plush gray couch in someone’s basement. She guessed that sweet girl with the untamed hair, Leigh, had driven them to his home, or was it someone else’s house? She couldn’t recall what had transpired.
She tried to walk out of the room, but found herself snapping back to the young man, like an extended rubber band pulled to its limit.
“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked the boy, but he was in a deep slumber and clearly oblivious to her presence.
Whether she was dreaming or this was real, she realized she needed help. “Charlie?” she called out. “Can you hear me?”
Suddenly Charlie appeared beside her, dressed in his white suit, an aura of white light surrounding him.
“You called?”
“Charlie—I just had a dream about you.”
“They say I have that effect on women,” he said as he pulled a cigar out of his jacket pocket.
“No, it was strange.” Goldie sighed. “It felt like I knew you . . . from before . . . ”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.
“But what’s really bothering me is this—” She pointed to Clay, asleep.
“He looks like a fine young fellow. What about him bothers you?”
“Well . . . I seem to be attached to him.”
Charlie tapped his cigar to freshen the taste. “I see you’ve found another love rather quickly.”
Goldie shook her head. “Not like that. Just I can’t seem to be able to walk past a few feet around him.”
Charlie nodded to the sleeping boy. “That’s what happens when you attach yourself to someone.”
“So how do I detach?”
“I thought you wanted to help your sister and your Romeo.”
“I do.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “You’re a dybbuk. That’s what it means to be attached. You possess his body when he sleeps.”
“So I control him? He’ll go to New York and take care of Mindy?”
“Not so fast, sweetheart. It doesn’t work that way.”
Goldie sighed. “How does it work?”
He looked at the boy then back at Goldie. “For now—when you’re asleep, he’s in control, and when he’s asleep, you are. When he’s in a deep slumber you could exit his body but only by a bit.”
“That sounds like something I can work with,” Goldie decided.
Charlie smiled and waved his cigar. “For now. But soon you’ll both be stronger and then you could be awake at the same time. You’ll have to learn how to work together if either of you want to get anything done.”
“Why, that’s crazy!” Goldie said, her eyes wide. “He’s a man. How on earth will I convince him?”
“Maybe if you ask nicely—”
“Charlie!” Goldie snapped at him. “Even if he is by some grace of God an unusually accommodating person—he’s still a male. If I’ll want to make a right to get to New York, he’ll want to take a left just to spite me!”
“I guess you’ll need a good map,” Charlie said. “Hey, at least you’re outside of his body now.”
Goldie listened.
“Give you a few hints. This guy is under a lot of pressure. For now you can be in control when he’s sleeping, but pretty soon, when you’re both awake, you’ll be able to steer if his nerves get to him, if he gets flustered, or just full of doubt. When he’s weakened, emotionally, you can step in.”
Goldie got that sense when she met Clay. She didn’t understand how anyone would feel ambivalent about their lives. Especially someone like Clay who seemed to have it all.
“Sounds like I’ll be stuck to him for a while. Can I go to Long Island? To see my family?”
“Yes,” Charlie said. “But you can only see them. You can’t help them if you’re a ghost.”
Goldie sighed. “So I have to use big guy’s body to get to Long Island and help Mindy and Avner and Daddy?”
“You got it, sweetheart,” Charlie said. “This guy’s in between worlds like you are, still trying to decide if he wants to deal with his life head-on or let it go. When he’s on the fence about how he feels or what he wants, you’re on the fence too.”
Goldie decided to change the subject and wistfully grabbed Charlie’s hand. “How is Mindy?”
“Last I checked, she was doing all right.”
“Just all right?” Goldie nervously bit her lip. “I’m worried about her. Can I see her again? Who knows when I’ll ever convince this big guy to physically go to New York?”
Charlie nodded and took both of her hands in his. “There’s a way, as long as you’re with me.”
She stood close to Charlie and held him tight.
“Stick with me, kid, I’ll take you places,” he said as he held her hand and they took off.
Instantly, they were transported to her house on Long Island, where Goldie stood beside Charlie and watched out for her sister.
“Did you find those crazy Italian dishes?” Mindy called up to Avner from the basement as she searched through boxes of Goldie’s wedding purchases.
“Umm, I found the Indian-styled pitchers, the silver cutlery, and those Ralph Lauren linens, but no luck on the dishes. Yet,” Avner called back from his precarious perch on the ladder in the massive hallway closet.
Mindy grinned to herself and held up a pair of sparkling Christian Louboutins that Goldie had planned to wear to her first child’s baby shower. “Goldie was always so organized. And she had such great taste,” she said.
Goldie was sitting beside Charlie on the stairs, listening intently. “I still do!” she tried to shout, but Mindy and Avner were oblivious to her presence.
Avner smiled. “Yes, she did have the best taste. And she was so generous. My mother absolutely adored her. But it just hurts too much to have all of these reminders of our future, now that it’s not going to happen, you know?”
“I guess,” Mindy said quietly. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
Avner nodded and shuffled through another Big Brown Bag from Bloomingdales. “I can’t understand what possessed her to run like that—into traffic, no less?”
Mindy exhaled. “I don’t know. She was always so terrified of losing it like our mom that she just went mad, I guess.”
Gold
ie interrupted. “It was the dogs, that’s all.”
Avner shrugged. “If she didn’t want to go through with the wedding, she could’ve just told me. I could have accepted it. She didn’t have to run like that.”
Mindy shook her head. “I’m sure she wanted to get married. She told me so, a number of times.”
“Then what do you think happened?” Avner asked.
Mindy sighed. “I know she was very upset about other things . . . and she had a fever, too, so she might have been hallucinating.”
Avner nodded. “I have to believe that. After all, these items show me a woman who was planning on getting married.”
Mindy sighed. “Sometimes I just want to curl up and cry and not face the world, but Goldie wouldn’t have wanted that for me. She would have told me to get over it.” Mindy paused. “She also would not approve of the three tubs of ice cream I went through last night.”
Goldie was horrified. “Three tubs?”
Avner shifted his attentions to the five large Macy’s boxes. “Mindy, it’s not supposed to be easy.”
Mindy walked up the stairs with a big carton of Goldie’s special holiday silverware that now had to be returned, passing Goldie. “I’m done going through the stuff in the basement. You need any more help?”
Goldie watched as Avner ran his fingers through his black mop of curls. “I just need to find that set of dishes.”
Mindy held up a dish. “You mean this one?”
“Yeah!” Avner nodded. “Wow, I was looking right at it and I didn’t even see it.”
Goldie glared. “Kind of like how you guys are looking right at me and you don’t see me,” she muttered—not that it would have made any difference.
“That’s all right.” Mindy grinned. “Being absentminded isn’t such a big flaw.”
“Yes, it is.” Goldie rolled her eyes. Avner’s airiness had irritated her to no end.
Mindy glanced at her watch, the one that Goldie had bought her as a Sweet Sixteen present, and turned to Avner. “Look, it’s already 10:30. We have to get to the mall soon if we want to beat the Sunday crowds.”
Charlie turned to Goldie and tapped his watch. “Have you seen enough?”
Goldie shrugged. “I guess I can go back to now,” she said sadly as she watched the car pull away. “I just can’t believe she’s giving away those Louboutins.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Goldie checked out her surroundings. God, it felt nice to be in a body again. And at least this one felt like it was fit as a fiddle. She rubbed her eyes and rose from the couch that stunk like cheap perfume and beer.
She looked at her hands. Man hands. They were big and strong and callused. She couldn’t believe that anyone with such power and strength could have ever not wanted it. What a pity, she mused, that he didn’t love his life enough to fight for it.
Goldie put the hands on her face and nearly combusted. His skin. She felt dry patches, a little flaking. This guy obviously wasn’t into exfoliating and moisturizing. So much hair!
She couldn’t help the yelp that came out of her mouth. Goldie cursed silently. She had no idea where she was and who she was with, and didn’t want to attract any undue attention. But apparently her cry had alerted someone on the floor above, because Goldie could hear the sound of feet padding down the basement steps.
“Claybear?”
An athletic blonde in a Victoria’s Secret hoodie and black leggings approached the hunk of muscle Goldie presumed was Clay.
Goldie nodded in response. “I’m here. That’s me. I’m most definitely Claybear. I’m most certainly not a girl, and I’m definitely not from Long Island.” Goldie placed her hands on Clay’s hips—wait, they were her hips now. “I’m Claybear. Uh huh, I’m a bear, all right.”
The girl broke into a relieved smile. “Oh good, you’re okay. You had me worried after last night. That mechanic friend of yours dropped you off here at my sorority house to get your car keys and you just conked right out on the couch! I don’t know where your keys are, Clay.”
Goldie couldn’t help but stare at the girl’s even, gleaming white teeth. She wondered what her whitening method was. She thought back to that scene in the park with that girl Leigh—Leigh had said something about a Carolyn Dampeer. Clay’s girlfriend. This must be her. “To be honest, I don’t remember a thing,” Goldie improvised.
Goldie took the opportunity to look into the bathroom mirror. A broad face with sandy blond stubble and piercing yet tired blue eyes looked back at her. Goldie ran her hands over her chin. “God, I’m hairy,” she muttered. Back when she’d had her own body, it was always well maintained and hairless. It was repulsive, yet oddly freeing, to have hair growing out of her face.
Goldie took some cleanser and lathered it up, washing her face, happy to finally treat this guy’s long-abused pores to some tender loving care. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice Carolyn’s well-stocked and well-kept makeup box. Lotions and perfumes were lined up in neat rows, and all the colors of the rainbow were present in Carolyn’s nail polish display. “Holy cow, Carolyn, you have like the entire Essie nail polish Resort Collection!”
Goldie gingerly fingered a creamy pink color. Ballet Slippers—that was the last color on her nails before the accident—soft and refined, perfect for a wedding . “I love this one,” she said.
Carolyn gave Goldie a funny look. “Claybear, since when do you wear nail polish?”
“Oh—I don’t actually wear it, of course. I just like looking at the colors. It’s like art, you know?”
Carolyn nodded. “I mean, nail polish is like paint—so I guess that makes sense.” She smiled. “I like that, Claybear. Nail polish is art. Such a sophisticated way of looking at it.”
She threw her arms around Goldie in another bone-crushing, claustrophobic hug. “You continue to astound me with your intelligence, Clay.” She went to the cupboard on the top of the sink. “Okay, Claybear! Let me show you this eye cream. It’s to die for.”
Goldie winced. Sore spot.
She dried off then followed Carolyn, and sat down on the couch.
Carolyn laced her hands in Goldie’s. “So you don’t remember anything about last night?”
“Forget last night—I don’t even know who I am anymore!”
“That’s okay,” Carolyn said, looking into the eyes of the person she thought was her boyfriend. “That could happen from so much partying. So I’ll remind you. You’re handsome, a star football player, and those pranks you pull with the guys always make me laugh. Though I feel like we never talk, so I just wanted to let you know that if you ever wanted to like, have a conversation—you can. I’m here for you.”
“You don’t talk enough?” Goldie felt outraged. “Why, that’s terrible! How do you stand for it?”
Carolyn looked confused.
“I wouldn’t stand for such behavior for even a minute. A pretty girl like you should not have to feel lonely in a relationship.”
“I know,” Carolyn said and clasped Goldie’s hand to her heart. “I just never knew how to tell you that.”
Goldie withdrew her hand from Carolyn’s grasp. “Sweetie, you need a guy who wants to hear what you have to say.”
“Really?” Goldie teared up. “Why, Clay, I never knew this side of you.”
Goldie smiled. “I have many sides to me. You’d be surprised.”
“So you just want to, like, talk to me? That’s so . . . sensitive.”
“Sure.” Goldie nodded. “I love talking. I once won a contest where—”
Carolyn interrupted. “Look, if you’re having a change of heart because of all the games, I can take it.”
“Take what?” Goldie asked, genuinely confused.
Carolyn exhaled. “I know this year has been really, really crazy and pressured for you, and that’s why we haven’t been together for a while . . . ” She grabbed Goldie’s hand. “Last night you were so out of it that I freaked. I guess I was out of it, too . . . you can tell me anything. I want to be s
upportive.”
Goldie wondered how on earth a Claybear would answer. She thought of a line she had heard so many times coming out of a few of her annoying exes. “How about, I just need some space?”
Carolyn stood up from the couch, a hurt expression suddenly spreading over her face.
Maybe this Clay guy had some problems, but Goldie still couldn’t understand why in the world he was ambivalent about his life. He even had a pretty girlfriend who seemed so sweet. Most guys would cherish a girl like Carolyn. Maybe she wasn’t for him, though?
“Listen, I have to tell you something, Carolyn.”
Carolyn nodded and sat back down, leaning in closer. She was practically salivating over Goldie’s shoulder. Ugh. She was pretty, but this girl had no concept of personal space.
“Would you mind?” Goldie cleared her throat and moved away from Carolyn. Annoyed, she forgot about channeling Clay. “Nothing personal, but I don’t like being touched, sweetie. Not at all.”
“Come again?”
Goldie continued. “I find your invasion of my space, like, a bit much. Germs and everything.”
Carolyn seemed like she’d just been sucker-punched. “Why? Was it something I did?”
“Hey,” Goldie continued. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong. It’s not you, it’s me.”
Carolyn raised her eyebrows. “I’ve heard that before.”
“No, really. Touching you is just not interesting to me right now, Carolyn.”
Carolyn’s eyes widened. After a moment, she replied, “Well, that explains a lot. You know that most guys can’t resist me.” She winked and tossed her frizz-free hair. “It’s like I douse myself in love potion or something—you wouldn’t believe how many guys just randomly come on to me . . . like at the post office, the doctor’s office—even church, for goodness sake. It gets awkward.”
Goldie noticed the aquamarine nail polish Carolyn was wearing and wondered what shade it was.
Carolyn shook her head and continued. “There’s only one explanation: you really are under a lot of pressure!”
