The Bodies We Wear

by Jeyn Roberts

  “I’m impressed,” I say. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  Chael laughs. “It’s kinda barren. Could use a woman’s touch. Or about five interior decorators. Can’t complain, though. It’s free.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “I have my ear to the ground,” he says. “All I had to do was put the lock on the door. Not that it matters. No one ever comes up here.”

  He opens the wine bottle and pours me a glass. Believe it or not, I’ve never had wine before. Beer, vodka, even a few gulps of scotch, but never wine. Gazer isn’t much of a drinker and we all know how adept at socializing I am. I sniff at the glass, wondering if I’m supposed to take a sip or a gulp. The red liquid smells faintly of fruit and something else I don’t recognize.

  “To us,” Chael says, and he holds up his own glass against mine. Yes, cheesy as hell, but I’m glad I’m sitting down because I think my legs just got a little weak.

  I watch him carefully and he takes a sip so I figure that’s the right thing to do. The wine is thick and bitter in my mouth and I swallow quickly. I don’t know what to say afterward. Mmm? Wow? Fantastic? Yuck?

  I keep my mouth shut instead and look at the wall. It’s smudged with black scuff marks and there’s a good-sized crack in the corner but nothing worse than our church.

  “I’ve got more,” he says, and he gets up and goes over to the kitchen, where there’s a cooler. He brings it over, along with a few paper plates, and starts placing items on the picnic cloth.

  Olives. Cheese. Crackers. Strawberries. Grapes. A loaf of French bread along with some hummus for dipping. All sorts of things I really like to eat.

  Watch out, I’m about to become a pig.

  “I can’t believe you did all this,” I say as I snag a cracker and place a slice of white cheese on top. I take a small bite and it’s delicious. It takes all my will power to not shove the entire thing in my mouth.

  “Try one of these,” Chael says, and he holds up something green and weird- looking.

  “They look disgusting.”

  “It’s called dolma. It’s made from grape leaves. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

  I pick one up and nibble on the end. I’m not sure how to describe the taste. It’s like eating pickled rice. But in a good way. “Interesting,” I say.

  Chael laughs. “Interesting good, or interesting in an ‘I’m going to go throw up in the toilet’ way.”

  “Good,” I say with a giggle. I pop the rest of it in my mouth and quickly eat another. We spend the next ten minutes or so sampling the various items that Chael has packed in his cooler. My stomach starts to fill up quickly. I shouldn’t have eaten that hamburger earlier tonight with Gazer. Or the French fries and the extra-large Coke. Soon I’m going to be rolling on the floor in a food stupor and there’s nothing I can do to stop myself.

  That’s the great thing about the huge amount of training I do every day. I get to eat like there’s no tomorrow.

  I take another sip of wine and notice that Chael’s barely eating at all. Sure, he’s got a piece of cheese in his hand but he’s only taken a single bite out of it. I’m pretty sure he ate a few of the dolmas and when I look at the half-empty container, I know it’s true. But right now he’s staring off at one of the candles, a faraway expression on his face.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Huh?” He turns and his eyes are alight with fire. But distant. He’s not really here. Absently he pulls at the strands of hair above his ear.

  “You seem out of it.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in someone else’s dream.” Chael puts his piece of cheese down on his plate. “I get disorientated. Blurry. I stare at things but they don’t really seem to be there. Does that make sense? Maybe it’s just a weird reaction to whatever’s happened to me. Maybe it’s life’s way of telling me time is short.”

  “Your life was short but now you’ve got a second chance.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  He looks so sad that I want to take my arms and pull him close. But who would end up comforting who? He’s very much like me, tough on the outside, confused beneath the surface. When we were younger, he didn’t come off as strong or sensitive or haunted. He seemed normal. But then again, so did I. Can we really overcome our past with this new future?

  “What do you think it means?”

  “I don’t know.” Chael shifts his entire body over a few inches, until he’s super close. He puts a hand out against my leg and pulls me toward him. “I want so much to take care of you, Faye. I want to take your pain and free you from all the monsters that live under your mattress. You’ve been so happy these past few weeks. But it’s not gone, is it? I can’t make you forget.”

  “I am happy,” I say. “I can’t begin to express how wonderful it is to have you back. But I’ve wanted this revenge for half my life, it seems. You can’t just show up out of the blue and expect me to change my mind.”

  “You have a chance, Faye. It’s right there in front of your face, but you’re not seeing it. Look at the way you work with Beth. You’re a natural and you could make a great life for yourself working with Heam addicts. You could have a future.”

  I shake my head. I can feel tears threatening to drop from the corners of my eyes. It’s all a lie. Why can’t he see that? Everything he says sounds great when we talk about it over candlelight. But in reality? It’s never as simple as he’s trying to make it. I have no future. I have shadow demons waiting for me. I have an elevator in hell with my name written all over it.

  I wish I could convince myself that my thoughts are fake and that there is no heaven or hell like Gazer believes. Like Chael wants me to think. But neither of them was there with me.

  It may not be real to them but it’s real to me.

  And whatever I did to deserve this hell, I truly believe that bringing Rufus and the others down might absolve me a little. If I can save one life. One measly gutter rat that might otherwise fall into Rufus’s clutches.

  What about Beth?

  “It’s not that simple,” I finally say because Chael is looking at me. I wish he wouldn’t put so many demands on my shoulders.

  “It is.”

  “And what happens if you do save me?” I ask. “Do we get to live happily ever after?” The bitterness is strong in my words. It stains my tongue.

  “Yes.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  I stand up and walk over to the window to look outside because if I keep sitting on the floor in front of Chael, I’ll probably burst into tears. The window is closed and slightly grimy but I can still see the ground below. No one is on the streets. It’s silent.

  Chael wants me to be something I’m not. And if he’s going to force me to pretend, it’s not going to end well. Why can’t he understand that I just can’t turn myself off? People are more complicated than that. I’m too far gone. Asking me to give up my obsession is like asking me to cut off my head. Yes, maybe I could be all those things he wants me to be, but eventually my anger will push back up to the surface. You can only wear a disguise for so long before the mask starts to decompose. I can’t just smile and wish away six years of my life.

  “Why can’t I have my revenge and my happily-ever-after too?” I finally ask.

  “Because it will destroy you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “It’ll eat you up inside. Unless you’re a monster to begin with, taking a life destroys you. It’s like cancer, festering in the furthest corners of your mind. Getting into every nook and cranny. There’s no escape.”

  “I’m a tough girl, I can handle it.”

  Chael comes over and wraps his arms around me. He’s so amazingly warm. I lean back into him, feeling
the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes.

  I wish we could stay like this forever. Every moment is simple and pure. It would be easy to forget everything else. I can see why people search desperately for love. It’s comforting. It makes you feel secure. Safe.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Faye,” Chael says. “And I will fight for you, even if you end up hating me forever.”

  I turn around in his arms and look up into those bright green eyes. “I could never hate you.”

  “You haven’t seen everything I’m capable of.”

  And then he leans down and kisses me.

  We don’t talk much after that. After a while we lie down on his bed and hold each other tightly. My hair has since dried and Chael twirls his finger around my curls, winding and unwinding them over and over. I trace my hand along his chest, feeling the smoothness of his muscles. We kiss some more.

  I’m not sure exactly when I fall asleep but I’m in his arms and I feel secure.

  I feel loved.

  I sleep and there are no dreams. Nothing but warm darkness washing over me.

  When I wake up, I’m alone.

  It takes several minutes to remember where I am. The strange room looks disjointed and spooky without the light. Chael must have blown out all the candles. The portable heater is still on but he’s turned it down so it only gives off a faint amount of heat. That’s fine. The room is warm enough.

  But where is Chael?

  I get up, trying to shake the sleepiness from my mind. I walk over to the bathroom to take a look since it’s the only other room but there’s no Chael.

  I sit back down on the bed and replay our last conversation in my mind. Why would he go and leave me here alone? That makes no sense. He never mentioned having to do anything tonight.

  Unless …

  I grab my phone and check the time. It’s a little after two. Closing time for the bars. Is it possible that Chael went after Rufus?

  You haven’t seen everything I’m capable of.

  Holy crap.

  I cross the room in two strides. My fingers wrap around the door handle but nothing happens. I pull hard but the door won’t budge.

  I’ve been locked in.

  That rat bastard!

  I twist the handle in both directions and bang on the door. I put my ear against the metal and try to see if I can hear anything on the other side. Nothing. So I go over to the wall and do the same thing. No televisions blare from the next door. No voices chatting. Not even snoring.

  I try the window next but it’s sealed tight. No matter how much I pull and yank on it, the glass won’t move an inch. I run my fingers along the side looking for secret locks but I come up empty-handed. The only way I’m going to get through is to break it and I’m not there yet. Besides, it’s pointless. The street below is empty and I can’t imagine anyone is going to come strolling along any minute. It’s too late at night. Even if I managed to find someone, it’d probably be a drunk or a gutter rat too scared to get involved.

  Chael was right to pick this place. There’s no one to hear me scream.

  I could call someone. Chael didn’t take my phone. But who? There’s no way I’d call Gazer and he’s pretty much the only person I ever contact. I’d rather die than admit to Gazer that I got locked into this situation like a fly drawn straight into the beehive.

  So stupid of me. I should have never let down my guard like that.

  I go back and try the door again but now I’m starting to feel ridiculously foolish, like a chicken with its head cut off. Resigning myself to the situation, I finally go back over to the bed and sit down. There’s nothing I can do except wait.

  I’m going to kill him when he gets back.

  No, not kill. That would be too good for him. I’m not against a little bit of torture at this point.

  If he kills Rufus, that’ll be it. I’m not sure if I can come back from that. Chael said he wants to take my revenge in order to save me. But he’s right about one thing. If he does this, he’ll make me hate him. And forever won’t be long enough. There have just been too many years of resentment and long nights plotting revenge. I’ve built up too much rage. I’ve invested a lot of time in this. What will I do if it’s taken away?

  Is having my hatred good enough as long as he thinks he’s saving my soul?

  I pick up the wine bottle and take a long drink. Sitting back down on the bed, I position myself so I have a good view of the door.

  If there’s one thing living this life has taught me, it’s patience. I can wait till Chael gets back. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.

  Although I’ve been dozing for the past hour, I hear the creak of the key in the lock. Instantly I’m off the bed and at the door before he manages to open it an inch. The second his body pushes through, I’m at him, hands raised, smacking him against his chest and arms.

  “You bastard!” I shout. “How could you do this to me? I trusted you.”

  “That was your first mistake, I guess.”

  I smack him again and he doesn’t even try to protect himself. He steps through the doorway and off to the side, leaving the entrance wide open.

  “Relax.”

  “What did you do?” I grab hold of his jacket and shake him. “Tell me!”

  Chael refuses to look me in the eyes. Instead, he glances down at the picnic cloth, which still holds plates of abandoned food.

  “It’s done.”

  I scream. And not some high-pitched squawk. A deep mournful sound escapes my lips. The moment I’ve been working up to for six years is gone with two words. All the fight inside of me, the anger, the suffering, pulls against my brain, trying to focus and find meaning.

  The worst part is I’m also relieved.

  “I hate you,” I say to him. “You took everything from me.”

  “I gave you life.”

  “Fuck you!” I storm back over to the bed and pick up my jacket. I shove my arms into the sleeves, accidently kicking the cooler in the process. “That man took away my life. He made me what I am. All I had left in this world was revenge and you stole that too. You’re no better than him.”

  “If you’d killed him, everything you know would end. There’s no coming back from that. You may think you’re tough and you’ve done a great job building up that safety bubble, but trust me, this would find a way to get inside of you.”

  “I wasn’t planning to come back from it.”

  “You are nothing but a selfish little girl,” Chael spits at me. “You say he took away your life? You’re still alive. He killed me. So boohoo. You had a crappy childhood? He destroyed mine. So go ahead and talk about how you’d rather be dead because at least you still get to make that decision. I would have given anything to be with you. To be a part of your life, the very one you want to end. You’ve got no one to blame for that. You could have lived all this time. But all you’ve done is focus on your hate and self-pity. All I did was die.”

  I pause, coat sleeve only halfway up my arm. “That’s not fair.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No, it isn’t.” I stamp my feet, fully aware of how childish it is. “Look at you. You may have died but you came back. You don’t have any scars. You don’t have the addiction clawing away at your brain. So you missed a few years, big deal. You could go out tomorrow and get a job and anyone would hire you because there’s not a single trace of Heam on you.”

  Chael doesn’t say a word. He stands there with his hands clenched into fists by his side. I march up to him and glare right into his eyes. He instantly looks away and moves over to let me pass. I shove by him and out into the hallway.

  I don’t look back.

  He had no right.

  The revenge was mine. I worked hard for that. How could he turn around and take it?

  The rain continues to fall and it doesn’t take l
ong before my hair is wet and sticking to my scalp again. Who cares? There’s no one worth looking good for anymore.

  I walk in no particular direction and after a while I find myself back at the bar where Rufus goes. Wait. Change that. Used to go.

  It’s almost four in the morning and the place is closed. The neon sign is turned off and the windows are dark. Will anyone mourn Rufus tomorrow when they get the news? Will they toast with their beers in the air to honor his memory? Or will they never find out? People disappear all the time and are never found again. Maybe they’ll mourn the loss of sales. Rufus was quite the drinker.

  I wonder where Chael killed him. Is his body hidden behind one of the thousands of Dumpsters in this city, or did he get more creative and dump him in the water? Maybe he’s folded neatly into one of the trunks of the abandoned cars that litter the streets. If I’m lucky, the rats will pick at his flesh until there’s nothing there but bones. He deserves that. I hope he’s in that elevator right now with the metal bars piercing his skin and the shadow demons sliding across his tongue and down his throat to tear apart his insides.

  Even hell is too good for that man.

  I stand under the streetlamp and look up as the raindrops splatter across my face. The light glows against the gray clouds. I wish they would go away so maybe I could see the stars. You almost never see them in this city and if you do, they’re pale and washed out. I once read that if you go out into the forest you can see millions of stars and if you stare at them long enough, they begin to dance. I’d like to see that one day.

  I wish I could take back my words. Chael’s partly right. I am being selfish. But it’s my right. I wasn’t seeking revenge just for myself but for Chael too. He seems to think I’ve forgotten that he was once dead but I remember it every time I look in his face.

  True love never dies, even if they come back.