by Barbara Bell
I remember the last time I saw Vin. He was smoking cigarettes with some friends, standing on the corner of Vine and Main. I’d just come off the Dumpster behind Betty’s Café. Then he saw me. I’ll never forget the look on his face.
I’d like to have just a minute with this God they all talk about. I’d ramble on about the river first of all, since there’s something about the river that I think God would understand.
But I really want to talk to God about Vin.
Don’t make him feel the ache, I’d say to God. Don’t let him feel the dangers and the snakes. Keep Vin high in a tree. And when Vin falls, let him fall slow and green, passing through that film I see. Let him slip through easy.
Because I’m thinking of Vin’s face when he turned to me. I saw Mama’s death written all over his eyes. I saw the night our two-room went up in flame. I wanted to wipe it away.
Dear God. Keep the ones that I love safe.
I have twenty-four hours.
I take a cab to my apartment. A car follows. Once inside, I lie down on the floor in the center of the apartment and stare up. I can’t cry anymore. And I can’t think at all.
I call Tutti, telling Josh that I’m feeling sick again. I won’t be back today. He wants to send Greg over, but I talk him out of it.
That night the minutes pass slow. I go through everything in my head, and I can’t get things to come out right for me. But I’m determined that this will be the end. I’ve had enough. And when it’s all over, I want Miriam to be safe and free like Violet never was. I will write this play. Not Ben.
I call Miriam around eleven. “I need to spend time in my apartment doing some cleaning. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll help you do it tomorrow,” she says. “I want to see you tonight. You don’t sound good.”
“I’m fine. I need some space.” I pause. “Miriam.”
“What?”
“I love you. Remember that.”
“I know.” She sounds peeved.
I lie down again, trying to get myself strong. I work and work my play, wanting to keep it simple. If it’s simple, there’s less chance anything can go wrong.
About five, I get up and lay out my most important things. The picture of Mama, the doll’s head, my glued-together cup of the dragon and the lady with a parasol, and the notebooks of my writing. I stack up all my IDs, including Rebecca Cross, and I find again the folded sheets that had been in Ben’s shoebox for so long. They were my first stories.
I remember how I hid them beneath my mattress, but Kat found them. Kat encouraged me. She and I went over them together, honing, sharpening. We read them out loud together.
As I sit in my apartment, the scent of Kat comes over me again. I pick up my picture of Vin and stare at it for a long time. Then I add it to the pile of my stuff. I throw in all my Clarisse Broder articles since I’d jumped off the bridge.
Then I write Miriam a letter.
Dear Miriam,
I hope you receive this letter. If it gets lost somehow, then you won’t ever understand why I acted the way I did in the next few hours.
Ben has found me again. I’m supposed to make a break with you and all my friends so no one will know where I am. He has threatened to hurt you. I can’t let that happen. Even if I do as he says, he will always be able to hold you over my head.
By this time tomorrow, I’ll either be dead, or with Ben, in which case I’ll kill myself as soon as I get the chance.
I want you to know how much I love you. You’ve brought happiness back into my life. I regret never telling you about Clarisse Broder. I intended to tell you when we got to Seattle.
These things with this letter are my most prized possessions. Do what you want with them.
Please don’t forget I love you,
Terri Becca
Beth Becker
Clarisse
Then I get out my long-suffering zippered bag and somehow stuff everything inside of it. On the outside of the bag, I stick on a Post-it. I write on it: “Tom. Please give this to Miriam sometime after Wednesday evening. Thanks for everything. Becca.”
I take out my duffel bag and pack in what few clothes I have left in the apartment, thinking I might want them if I do end up at Ben’s. In goes my bundle of money. I throw in all my ammo and guns, missing my Walther a lot. On top of that I put in the bag with its note to Miriam.
After calling a cab, I look around. Of all the places I’ve ever lived, this was the best.
I close the door behind me.
14
The Play
It’s a little after seven in the morning when my cab pulls up. I open the door and toss in my duffel bag, waving at the two guys sitting in the car parked nearby.
I can’t stop myself.
My first stop is Tutti. I want to be there before anyone else. Once inside, I take out the bag for Miriam. In the wine closet, I move some bottles and push in the bag. Tom won’t be in until three today. By that time, my play will either be in progress, or safely over.
Now I sit in the kitchen, remembering how good it felt to be here.
I call another cab and leave by the front door, waving to the boys again. I have the cabby drop me at the Taurus. Once in the garage, I spread my guns around in their regular places. I stack the ammo with the Uzi.
I wait again until nine. Opening the garage, I drive the Taurus to Tutti, looking for Burt. He takes one look at the black eye I have from being pistol-whipped and has a fit.
“That’s why I called in yesterday, Burt, because I was dizzy. Then I went home, took a shower and bang, slipped and hit my face. It’s a nice look, don’t you think?”
“What’s going on? You’re not dressed for work.”
I look him in the eye. “I’ve decided to leave town today. I’m jumpy and paranoid. I’ll calm down if I get on the road. In a few days, I’ll meet up with Miriam in Seattle.” I watch him close, hoping he’s buying it. “I loved working for you, Burt. I’m going to miss everybody here. Tell Tom and Josh I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye. I’ll write.”
He smiles and hugs me. I hold on to him tight. I’m afraid I might start to lose it, so I take Burt’s arm and we walk to the door. I kiss him on the cheek, then turn and walk away.
On my way out, I notice that one of the nice gentlemen in the car behind the Taurus is talking on a cell phone. When he sees me, he hangs up.
I drive to Miriam’s.
I breathe deep.
After stopping behind the gleaming Rav Four, I knock on Miriam’s door, my hand shaking. A block away, and parked in the manner of Bates, is a second car of Ben’s thugs watching Miriam’s place. I shudder, but the sight of that car bolsters me, tells me I’m doing the right thing.
Miriam opens the door.
“It’s about time you showed up—” She takes a look at my face. “My God. What happened?”
I push in past her. Once she’s shut the door, I turn back, crossing my arms. “You really cared about me, didn’t you? I got you so good.”
She was walking toward me, but now she stops, confused.
“You didn’t have a clue, did you? You thought we were going to waltz up to Seattle like a happy little couple.” I laugh. “You’re such an ass.”
Now I pace. “You bought it all, the story about my knifing, the whip marks. Ben. I knew that the way to really hook you was by being pathetic in some way.”
Her eyes are narrowed, her face more like Violet’s than I’ve ever seen. “What are you saying, Becca? What’s going on here?”
“You snotty, rich star. You all think you’re better than every body else, dancing around up onstage, everybody going ga-ga over you. I caught you big, getting you to fall in love. In love.” I laugh, close to hysteria. “You’re a fucking fool.”
“You’re lying. I can tell when you lie. Something’s going on.”
“Fuck you, Miriam. I’ve been laughing at you behind your back and you didn’t even know. It was a bet. Believe that? I bet a friend I coul
d find you and suck you in.” I smile a Ben smile. “I got you good.”
Tears are dropping down her cheeks, but I keep that picture of Violet’s face in front of my eyes, of it being bruised almost beyond recognition. I remind myself that I’m doing this for Miriam’s own good.
I waltz through the apartment, picking up a few of my things. “I just came back to get some of my stuff,” I say. “You can keep the straps and the dildo. In memory.”
She catches me by the arm and stares in my eyes. “Tell me you don’t love me. Look in my eyes and say it.”
I laugh, the berserks near. “I don’t love you. You stupid rich fucking bitch.”
She slaps me. I’m panicked, and almost start crying.
I shove her onto the bed, pinning her arms with my knees. I slap her across the face I don’t know how many times.
“Get out!” she screams. “Get the fuck out of here!”
I jump off her, but she stays on the bed crying. I end up on the street, not sure how I got there. In that moment I hate Ben a whole lot.
I speed off in the Taurus, crying. At a phone booth, I take out Ben’s card and dial the number.
“Hello?” It’s Ben.
“It’s Beth, Ben.”
“Tell me you’re coming in, Beth.”
I force back the tears. “I’m coming, Ben, but only to you. I don’t want any of your fucking thugs. I know a place up in the mountains. I’m going there. If you want me, you meet me there. Nobody else. Just you and me. No Kat, either. After I hang up, you call off your thugs. If you don’t, this time I really will kill myself. I’m near the Oakland Bridge. I swear I’ll drive off the thing.”
I hear him breathing. “Don’t fuck with me, Beth. You know I hate that.”
“Believe me, Ben, the last thing I’d do is fuck with you. I just don’t trust you is all. You meet me there. I’ll come with you quietly.”
I wait. “What have you got to lose? You’ve still got your boys watching Miriam.”
I wait again, chewing my lip.
This isn’t going to work.
“Okay, Beth. You’re one crazy bitch.”
I give him the directions. “Meet me there at three,” I say to him. “If I see anybody else, that’s it. I’m history. And don’t forget to call off your boys after I hang up.”
“Don’t you forget about that whip with Miriam’s name on it. I’d really dig whipping the shit out of that skinny piece of meat with you tied up and watching.”
I hang up, trying not to puke. We’re the perfect lovers, threatening one another into being true.
On my way to the cabin that Miriam and I found that last day of our vacation, I begin to prepare myself. This time I’m not running away, like I’ve done ever since I was sixteen and maybe before. Now I’m going forward, my intentions clear. Only my heart is weak.
So I remember Violet. Violet and her whispery voice. And the night she was to be free instead cut down, bled dry, and fed piecemeal to the waiting city. As I break free into the mountains, I gaze into her eyes, not sure if I’m seeing Violet at all. My memories of Miriam are so strong in me. But when I breathe, I smell Violet’s hair, remembering how it held the scent of bread baking. I recall how she loved to have her fingers rubbed.
I drive out of the woods and over the grasses, parking behind the cabin. Then I grab the Uzi and a box of extra clips, which I hope I won’t need. Opening my duffel, I take out the cup, the candle, and the matches.
It’s two thirty.
Walking to the front of the cabin, I look out, seeing how the slopes sweep down in a series of diminishing humps, and how clear it is today. I can make out, far away, the sun glimmering off the sea. How incredible that in the midst of the threats, the arrival of Ben, and the need to damage myself beyond repair, the earth can be so radiant and plain.
Then I sit in the center of the cabin, facing the door. Kneeling, I lie the Uzi and its ammo next to me. Lighting the candle, I blow it out three times, letting my love for Miriam fill me.
I turn over the cup.
Now I wait. I breathe one to five and back again. Last night, I first decided that I needed to kill Ben. But I have no confidence once I’m standing face to face with him that I can do it. Somehow in the basement, he bound me to him through terror and love. They’ve always been mixed up in me.
And I know that when it comes down to it, I don’t have that kind of thing in me. It’s why I never attained mastery with the whip.
So I sit waiting. It isn’t very long until I hear a car coming down the road. It stops. Then a car door slams. I pick up my lovely and much-to-be-desired Uzi and point it at my chest, waiting.
He has to see it with his own eyes. I want to make him so sick that he’ll forget Miriam altogether. Maybe my suicide will work itself into that place I saw briefly that day so long ago. I want to break it loose.
I hear his footsteps coming near, swishing in the grasses. I force my eyes forward. I want to look him dead in the face.
Then she stands there. Miriam, with a look on her face I can’t describe. She falls to her knees and crawls to me careful and slow.
“Give me the gun, Becca. You don’t have to do this.”
My brain explodes. All my plans, my mastery, my trying to keep her safe. All a big waste.
I drop the gun at my side and grab her shoulders, shaking her. “You shit! Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve got to get out of here! Now!”
With the Uzi in one hand, I jerk her up by the arm with my other hand. I nearly carry her out the door.
“Let me go!” She fights me, breaking free. I run after her and get her wrist, dragging her forward around the side of the cabin, yanking her in front.
That’s when I see him. He’d parked his van alongside the Taurus. The Rav Four is a little off by itself. In his hand is a roll of duct tape. In his belt is a pistol.
I stop dead and point the Uzi at him. Miriam stops fighting me all of a sudden, I guess seeing Ben for the first time.
“You said nobody else, Beth.” He moves his hand toward the gun.
“Don’t do it, Ben. Touch that gun and I’ll fill you full of bullets.”
He stops. His face works itself. “Now you’ve done it,” he says. “You broke your own rule. I’m going to have to hurt you both.”
A sound comes out of Miriam. I keep my eyes on Ben.
“She’s leaving, Ben. You’re going to let her go. Then I’m yours. You let her leave, I’m yours. It’s simple . . . Don’t.” He’s reaching for the gun again.
I make a circle around him, keeping Miriam behind my back, pointing the Uzi at his chest.
I get to the Rav and drop Miriam’s wrist, opening the driver’s door. I look at her face. She’s lost in shock. I shove her in the car, trying to keep my eyes on Ben.
Now she sits at the wheel, her arms at her sides. I lean in and slap her. She looks at me, eyes blank.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I say. “Get out and keep driving. Don’t go home. Don’t go to your place in Seattle. Hire bodyguards.” I can’t tell if she knows what I’m saying. “For me, Miriam. Keep yourself safe.”
Ben’s grinning now. It makes me sick.
I reach in and turn the key. She leans forward and puts it into drive. I step back and slam the door.
“Get out,” I say again.
She drives away, disappearing into the woods.
Ben and I stand facing each other. I wait, wanting to give her a good lead. He steps toward me.
“Drop the gun, Beth.”
God, I want to kill him. If only I could have learned to pull the fucking trigger, I would have saved myself a lot of trouble from that very first day of “my year.”
I turn and pitch the Uzi back toward the cabin. It disappears in the grass. He smiles. Then he walks up to me, caressing my cheek. I stand and wait, just like I did for Daddy. I know what’s coming next. Ben doesn’t disappoint me.
He slugs me good on the mouth. I take it full, falling to the ground. He drops the ta
pe and lifts me, grabbing me by the neck with his big left hand wrapped near around my throat and punches my face back and forth with the other fist. I fall to my knees, remembering.
That’s the final chit. It took me awhile, because like I’ve said before, I can be a real imbecile.
He just beat me like the man with the dust mask had done Violet before he killed her. Bates was right. It had been Ben after all.
