“You look different,” he said, not looking at her.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” she asked, blowing her drooping bangs out of her face.
“So, how’s everything going at Stratton?” he asked, nonchalantly.
“I don’t really know. I’m not really there anymore. I resigned, just like I said I would. I even set my date for—”
“Surely you must be aware of some of the comings and goings,” he scoffed. “Surely reptile boy fills you in on the daily grind?”
That one took her by surprise. “How did you know about that?”
“I have my sources,” he snapped, and looked away.
“What sources?” she wondered.
“Hannah, for one,” he said.
“Hannah?” she asked, slightly scandalized, slightly confused.
“Why do you care?”
“For one, it’s her fault you’re even here,” she said. “Not to mention that she’s in the freaking rain forest. How would she know anything? And how would she tell you?”
“I know she’s in the rain forest. Seems like a pretty incredible adventure if you ask me. Did you know there are hundreds of undiscovered peoples–”
“She called you? You’ve corresponded?”
“Corresponded?” he smirked. “What is this, 1940?” He paused momentarily. “Facebook.”
“Facebook?”
“Yes, you know. Facebook. Social networking? You’ve heard of it?”
“I know what it is,” she replied, slightly defensive as she herself wasn’t on it and barely understood what it was all about.
“A remarkable invention really,” he said. “A wellspring of useless information that once you tap into, you really can’t do without. And did you know you can play Scrabble on Facebook? With anyone in the world?’
“I knew that,” she lied.
“I’m really kind of addicted to it,” he said, picking up one of his tiles and placing it in the front of the rest of the letters in his rack. “Makes you see things in a whole new light.”
“I still don’t understand…”
“Look, it’s very simple. Hannah friended me, and I accepted her request.”
“Okay…” “And so now I’ve been following her travels through her status updates. A truly interesting person, really.”
“Really?”
“So smart and witty and full of insight. And totally freaking fearless,” he said, his eyes all alight. “Just an all-around beautiful person. I can’t believe I never noticed it before. I can’t believe I never gave her a chance.”
“Oh,” said Amy, her heart and her stomach beginning to tighten. Yet Deck would not stop talking.
“Amazing work she’s doing down there,” he said, and he smiled in a way that made Amy more than a little uncomfortable, more than a little jealous. She decided to ignore it.
“Well I still don’t see how you can know about David and me—”
He shook his head in the manner one would do to someone regarded as having been born yesterday or shortly thereafter. “He’s on Facebook, too.”
“You’re friends with David?”
“Absolutely not. But she is.”
“She’s friends with him? Why would she be friends with him?” Amy stared blankly at Deck.
“Yep. And I can see his status updates through her profile. So I guess,” he gave her a sly smile, “that Hannah didn’t tell me at all that the two of you were back together. David did.”
“This is too weird.”
“That, and it’s written all over you. Look at you,” he spat, disgustedly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s gotten to you again, hasn’t he?” he said, looking her up and down.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said as she absently smoothed her hair. She took a deep breath as she tried to change the subject. “How’s it going with you?” she asked, sincerely.
“Me? I’m doing tremendously. My prodigal wife came back into my life and ruined me again—and then ran off. Again. So I spend my days and most nights here, trying to figure out if I’m more angry at her or…” he trailed off.
“Or what?”
He shook his head. “Let’s just forget it, shall we? Because if things had not turned out as they did, how would I ever have ended up in this glorious place like this?”
“I don’t see how—”
“No imagination at all, Amy! Just look around you. Is this not the best of all possible worlds?”
“You don’t need to be here. You aren’t being detained here—”
“Ah, but I like it here,” he snapped. “What’s not to like?”
Amy had no response; she was starting to feel as though Deck had flipped his lid, and wondered if he would now be losing it completely.
“Let’s cut the crap, Amy. Why are you here? Do you really give a shit about what happens to me?”
“They don’t think you killed her, Deck. Ollie—”
“Of course I didn’t kill her,” he bellowed. “I never hurt another living thing in my life.” She opened her mouth to speak. “Aside from the fish,” he said, a flash of rage in his eyes. “I don’t even know why I trusted you with that. I don’t know why I ever trusted you with anything.”
She was confused and now starting to feel a little scared. “I just don’t know what to say.”
He laughed. “Hey, maybe you killed her. Isn’t that your specialty?”
She gasped. “How could you say that? You don’t mean that.”
“No,” he cut her off. “I don’t mean it. But does it really matter?” he asked, and looked back down at the Scrabble board. “You should know that I’m pretty much done with impossible women,” he said.
“I guess I should be going,” she said, and she turned to leave.
“I guess you should,” he barked. She got up and headed for the door.
“He’s pretty excited about taking you to the reptile convention,” he called after her. “David is. He’s been writing about it all week. I bet you can’t wait!”
She stopped and looked at him. “I…I really don’t know what to say.”
“How about good-bye,” he barked, and she turned again. “But before you go…”
She stopped, feeling inside a glimmer of hope that they could turn things around, they could start over again. “Yes?”
“Where are the dolls?”
“The dolls?”
“The dolls, Amy. Where are the damned dolls. Jesus! Do you still have them or not?” he snapped so harshly, his words felt like daggers that tore through her heart.
Her eyes filled with tears. “What does it matter?” she asked, and she stormed out.
15. How Amy Moped to Jane about the State of Her Life and How Zoe Finally Lost Her Annoying Dangling Baby Tooth
A couple of days later, Amy sprawled out on the couch and watched Zoë play with Heimlich’s bisque dolls. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine why Deck was so obsessed with them. Had he truly gone completely nuts? It made her all the more suspicious that he may have had something to do with Marny’s latest disappearance. How well did she really know him? How far had he been pushed by Marny? What kind of old grief had surfaced from deep within him? And what was he really capable of?
But this was Deck. Giant, goofball Deck. Deep down, she just couldn’t accept that he could be capable of such violence. The man who’d touched her on more levels than she even knew she had.
But of course she could be wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“What’s this one called, Auntie Amy?” Zoë called up from the floor, interrupting her thoughts.
“I don’t know what any of them are called,” Amy said. “I really don’t know anything abo
ut them. But they may be valuable, so please just be careful playing with them.”
“Do you really think they may be worth something?” Jane asked, bringing Amy a cup of tea in an oversized mug. Amy smiled to herself, in spite of herself, when all she could think was that this would be a much more suitable mug for Deck. Crazy Deck. Killer Deck…
“I don’t know,” Amy said, reaching for the tea. “Thanks,” she said and took a sip. “Deck asked about them again.”
“You didn’t mention that,” said Jane.
“I didn’t?” she asked. “I’m sorry. I’m still a little confused about everything.”
“And you look terrible,” said Zoe, sweetly, from the floor. “I thought you threw that thing away,” said Zoë, looking at Amy’s jumper.
“It’s comfortable. I guess I just wanted to be comfortable.”
“Comfortable, like hanging-around-with-David-comfortable again?” Jane jabbed.
“We’re both kind of in the same place right now,” Amy snapped. “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”
Jane and Zoë exchanged a look, but said nothing. Zoë went back to the dolls and Jane traced the rim of her mug with her finger. “Zoë’s right,” Jane said. “You do look terrible.”
“I’m okay.”
Jane paused a moment and then took a deep breath. “I have something for you,” she said. “Something from Ollie—well, from Deck really.”
Amy waved her away. “I don’t think I can have anything to do with him anymore,” Amy said. “I’m sorry. But he was so mean to me.”
“He’s going through a kind of rough time right now, Amy,” Jane said, placing an envelope on the table in front of her. “Ollie says he wrote this to you after you left. That he felt really horrible about how things went down. He was just so hurt by the David thing and…”
Amy pushed the envelope away. “I don’t think—”
“Amy, he needs you now,” Jane said, pushing the envelope back to her. “If only as a friend.”
“He doesn’t act like he wants anything to do with me. And besides, I’m busy,” she said dismissively.
“Yeah,” Jane rolled her eyes. “I know. With David.”
“Okay, what’s your real problem with this?”
“I heard you’re postponing your defense again,” said Jane.
“How did you…”
“Hannah.”
“What the fuck? Hannah again? How would she know anything about anything. And why would she tell you?”
“Facebook,” she said. “You do know what Facebook is—”
“I get it,” Amy said, cutting her off.
“And she also emailed me because we’re all worried about you.”
“I don’t buy that from her. I can’t trust her. Did you know she’s friends with David.”
“So she can keep her eye on him,” Zoe piped in. “So she can keep tabs on things over here while she’s over there.”
Amy remained defensive. “You know it’s because of her that the note got to Ollie and…”
“Ah, so you do feel something more for Deck than anger?” Jane smiled.
“She shouldn’t have passed along that note unless she knew for sure that something was wrong—that what it said was true. It’s because of her that everything went to hell.”
“It’s because of Marny, who wrote the note, who showed up at all and disappeared again that any of this happened,” said Jane. “Come on. You don’t honestly believe that he would be capable of what she said. She’s a terrible woman, clearly, and—”
“Let’s just say there are things you don’t know,” Amy said. “And besides, why would she set him up like this? She was out of his life. She was free. Why go through all the trouble?”
Jane paused and looked down at her tea. “There must be something in it for her,” Jane said.
“Is that what Ollie thinks?”
“I’m not allowed to say,” Jane said, and took another sip of her tea.
Jane and Amy sat quietly for a while and watched Zoë play with the dolls, each carefully considering their words before speaking again.
“You really don’t look so good,” said Zoë, now looking up, her angelic face radiating its trademark warmth and wisdom. “And I think I know why,” she said, catching her tongue on her tooth on the last word.
Zoë went back to the dolls, now thumbing the back of one of their dresses. Something wasn’t quite right about the way it was laying on the doll, and she started to undo the fasteners.
“Why? Why do I look so terrible? Come on, your turn to take a shot at Auntie Amy,” she snapped.
“It’s just that,” Zoë began, and stopped. “This tooth. I can’t take it anymore,” she said, and placed down the doll. Zoë started to tug at the tooth with her thumb and forefinger, first slowly and then with an incredible urgency until she finally pulled it out. “Got it!” she exclaimed, as she spit the small incisor out into her hand.
“Oh, baby,” Jane cried. “You got the dangler. My goodness. You’re all grown up now, aren’t you?” she said. She jumped to the floor and gave Zoë a giant hug.
“Congrats, Zoë!” said Amy, joining them. “This is really huge. There’s a tooth that could launch your thousand ships.”
Zoë’s eyes glazed over. “I’m not sure what that means.”
“Well, it’s not an exact parallel. But you know—like Helen of Troy?”
“Who?” she asked, more than a little confused. “What are you talking about?”
Amy and Jane looked at each other, each about as confused as Zoë seemed. Zoë picked up the doll she had been playing with and regarded it for a minute, as if there was something she was supposed to remember about it, but nothing came to mind. So she placed it down and picked up another one.
“I know what you wanted to say, Zoë. But I don’t think it’s because of David that things have changed,” Amy said, sitting back down on the couch. “I think it’s because of the shoes, you know, how they broke and everything,” she said. “Must have broken the spell,” she laughed.
“What!” shouted Zoë, in the manner of Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
Amy was taken slightly aback but decided to continue. “Think about it, guys. I got the shoes and everything was great. I lost them, and everything went to hell.”
“Except that you broke your shoe after Marny showed up,” Jane said. “And you met Deck before you even knew they existed.”
Before Amy could come back with a new argument, Zoë started to laugh uncontrollably. “Are you kidding me?” she managed as she gasped for air. “The shoes?” At this she literally rolled on her back laughing.
“Yes. The story. The legend?”
“The what?” Zoë asked, now teetering back and forth.
“The legend,” said Amy. “Of Rita Hayworth’s shoes!”
Zoë stared at Amy for a minute as she prodded the empty new space in her mouth with the tip of her tongue. Then her face took on a maniacal gaze. “That?” she exclaimed, and started laughing again. “Oh, my God. I so made that up.”
“You made it up?” both women asked at once.
“Magic shoes? Come on, Auntie Amy. That’s just ridiculous,” she lisped through the new space between her teeth. “You actually believed that? You silly girl,” Zoë laughed again.
“I’m sorry, Amy. I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” said Jane.
“It’s okay,” said Amy, and both women watched Zoë laugh and roll and laugh and roll some more. Then, as though her battery had run out, she came to a dead stop.
“Mama, I’m a little sleepy. Would you mind if I lay down for a little while? I don’t really feel like myself.”
“Of course, baby,” said Jane, concern in her voice. “Go ahead. Just don’t forget to put your tooth under y
our pillow.”
“Okay. Night-night then,” Zoë said in a four-year-old’s voice neither Jane nor Amy could remember her using, even when she was a four-year-old.
“What happened?” Amy asked Jane as they watched Zoë stagger down the hallway. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to get?” asked Jane.
“She’s acting like a drunk,” said Amy.
“No, silly,” Jane said. “She’s acting like a child,” Jane said, her face filled with love.
Amy stood with Jane and watched Zoë slip into her bedroom. “Now what?”
##
Amy walked home that night, feeling more lost and confused now than ever before. She clutched her backpack where she carried the dolls close to her and wondered what she was going to do with them. Sure, she could give them to Deck, but that might only push him over the edge. She could give them to Zoë, but they somehow seemed to make the child nuts as well. Or maybe she could sell them to Smitty’s? At the very least, she could get the old woman’s opinion on them she decided and headed to the store.
But when she got to Smitty’s she froze. For there, in the window, set between an ancient toaster and a set of Statue of Liberty cocktail coasters, perched magnificently upon their black velvet pedestal, were the shoes. Rita Hayworth’s shoes.
“What the fuck?” she said, and she headed into the store to confront the woman.
“Amy,” the shopkeeper said when she saw her. “So nice to see you again.” Amy couldn’t help but notice that the woman looked older somehow, more frail.
“What are they doing here?” Amy asked, gesturing wildly to the window. “How did they get back here?”
The woman regarded her with a cold stare. “They were abused,” she said flatly. “So they returned home.”
“But how did they get here? They didn’t just fly over on their own—not from the garbage pail where I left them.”
“Well, if you must know,” the shopkeeper said, “I bought them back.”
“From who? Who sold them back to you?” She gasped. “Not a bald guy?” she asked, her arm raised to indicate tallness. “Fortyish?”
Rita Hayworth's Shoes Page 16
