Fear of Heights

by Mara White

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not telling you not to have sex. I’m in here, there ain’t much I can do for you. But you got a husband. You got Robert for that if you need it so bad.”

  “He hates me.”

  “That don’t mean he won’t fuck you.”

  I can only sniff into my hand.

  “You just gonna put me right back in here as soon as I get out, because I swear to you, if I see him, I will fucking kill him over this.”

  “No. It’s my fault, not his,” I start to sob.

  “He knows you’re mine. They all do. He’s asking for war by even coming after you—let alone fucking touching you.”

  I lift my eyes to his and feel a chill run up my spine at his declaration.

  “I can’t have you in here looking like this, Kate. They gonna think they can get to me if they see you in here all tore up. Come back when you got your shit together. So they can think you coming up in here to tell me how much you love me.”

  “I do love you, Jaylee.”

  “Y yo a tí, Kate. But fucking try to act like it for once.” He leans into me, his hands still palms down on the table, and brushes his lips gently across mine.

  He refuses to look back at me when he leaves this time.

  I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t look at me either.

  Chapter 8

  I have no idea how Ideal found my house, but there he is, down on my front stoop, ringing the bell like an irate deliveryman. I’m looking at him from my bedroom window with the curtains pulled back, and he hasn’t yet thought to look up. Carmen is out, picking up some groceries before she picks up the girls, so there’s no rush for me to answer. I don’t have to answer at all if I don’t want to.

  He’s probably come here looking for sex. What else could he want? We’re not exactly friends. Though maybe he’s got some information and he wants to tell me in person. I could ignore Jaylee’s warning to stay away. If Ideal can help me find Emily, then I will stay connected to him, whatever it takes. It’s still my fault she’s gone. And gone she is—going on day five. That does it. My concern for my sister trumps Jaylee’s jealously.

  I wish looking at him right now could awaken something pleasant, but all I feel is shame. I’m embarrassed to see him again so soon after seeing Jaylee. He’s still something of a stranger, and he’s now seen me more than once at my most vulnerable. He must think I’m a lunatic. Completely unstable, not to mention promiscuous. I wish I could tell him I was acting out in despair, willing to do anything to escape my brain. I’d let him know that I don’t screw every guy on every corner. But he probably doesn’t care.

  He rings the bell again and shifts his feet, looking back over his shoulder. That’s when I notice he’s got a small, yellow envelope with a clasp closure in his hand. It looks official, like he’s brought me something important. We did make an agreement. I turn and run down the stairs.

  When I pull open the front door, Ideal eyes me up and down with a predatory grin. This ignites a response in me that surprises me. I’m guessing it’s because I’ve just come from seeing Jaylee. My senses are heightened, and pings of desire nip lightly at me. It feels like a shameful response, though not as acute as at our first face-to-face meeting. But desire is there, and I battle to shut it down. Ideal is undeniably handsome, but he also seems dangerous: kind of a live wire. He’s humming with power and with sensuality. It’s a tempting combination for me to lose myself in. Ideal and I should stick to coffee, and stay far from one another’s houses. I love Jaylee but I’m out here alone.

  “Hey, Mami. How you feelin’?”

  “Fine. Thanks. You? How’d you—you probably shouldn’t come to my house.”

  “Yeah, my place only, or coffee shops, huh? I brought you these. Some people, addresses, you might want to check out. Nothing for sure, but these people know shit, know what I mean?”

  “Thanks,” I say, trying to take the envelope from him. He keeps his grip on it and his mouth slowly lifts into a lopsided grin. He wants sex in exchange for information today. Just like I promised him. But I’m too apprehensive; Jaylee just told me that Ideal is off-limits. I don’t want to cause more any more problems, and put others at risk because of whose bed I share.

  He has kept up his end of our deal. I look into his eyes, with their perfectly arched brows. I want to reach out and run my thumb over the two little shaved lines. I want to summon some connection to him. But my feet are cold. Jaylee has told me no, and some part of my head, if not my body, listened.

  Ideal reaches out and brushes my hair back over my shoulder. When he shows compassion, it feels like a blow. Why is he such a contradiction? He still hasn’t let go of the envelope, and it floats between us, the seal of our deal.

  “Maybe later tonight. Um, after I put my kids down. I could call a sitter and come to your place?” I start to sweat, and my heart pounds. It’s pounding with apprehension, not excitement, this time.

  “I can come back?”

  “No.” This is hard. I don’t want anyone to see us—near my house or his. I don’t even want to go through with it, but I believe he can help me. He’s the only link I’ve got. I have to find Emily.

  “I saw Jaylee, like you suggested. He’s upset about us—as you can probably imagine.”

  “Listen, I’ve known Jay a long time. We’ve shared before. He’ll get over it. At least he knows me. He never had a problem with it when he was out.”

  His smile widens as if his memories of what he and Jaylee have shared are more than pleasurable. More like scandalous. Or maybe it’s the recollection of a specific memory—like the one with me, on my knees in the park-house bathroom.

  “It’ll help you take your mind off things, help you relax. Girl, I can tell you need it.”

  Here comes Dr. Ideal prescribing his analgesic penis. I can’t help but smile a little at him.

  “Okay. I’ll come over. But, I’m just warning you—I think this has to be it for us. I’m not about to risk… I’ve already screwed up my marriage. I can’t lose Jaylee too.”

  “Naw, mujer! Don’t worry about it. Jay’s cool. He can’t expect you to wait for him. How long he’s got, you know?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. My husband is working on getting him released. But obviously, this stuff with Emily complicates things. Now his father, too. There’s a whole lot riding on this case. A lot more than what happened that night.”

  “At least it gives me a chance,” Ideal says, and he reaches out to touch me again, this time, gently on the shoulder. I shudder in response. I’m not sure if it’s in anticipation or in disgust. Disgust at myself. Maybe it’s just nerves. I’m about to reiterate our “no-relationship clause” when I suddenly see Oscar over Ideal’s shoulder. This isn’t good news—for any of us.

  He’s probably come at Jaylee’s request—his right-hand man here to make sure I’m clear on who I can and can’t see.

  “¿Qué tú hace’?” He puts his hand on Ideal’s shoulder and pulls Ideal around aggressively to face him. Great, now Oscar thinks he needs to defend my virtue. To Ideal of all people, the one man who knows just how deep my corruption runs.

  “Oscar, this is Ideal. He’s helping me…”

  Oh, God. I guess I shouldn’t say what Ideal is helping me do. I guess I should shut up. I take a step backward toward the house.

  “I know who the fuck he is, Kate. He got no right touching you like he just did. If I see him do it again, shit is going down.” Oscar is sweating and agitated. I think of him as so sweet and young and tenderhearted. I guess I’ve never really seen his street persona.

  Then Oscar spits. It lands on the stoop, millimeters from Ideal’s impossibly white tennis shoes. We all gaze at this affront. Both of them are coiled and more than ready to strike. He is asking for retaliation. Oscar came here to fight. The tension is thick enough to cut. All I need is a brawl on my porch.

  Kate is playing with teenagers again. Kate just can’t seem to stop. Why do I involve myself in this?

 
We all go silent. I take a breath.

  “Oscar, Ideal was just leaving. It’s not what you think. We have an arrangement.”

  “Fuck, Kate. Yeah? I’m not stupid. I saw him touch you. You know who he is?”

  “Um, I met him through Jaylee,” I say, with a funny feeling pitching in my stomach.

  “I bet you did. This guy’s DDP, Kate. How the fuck can you be so stupid? He knows who you are, and he’s got no right to put his hands on you.”

  “I get it, Oscar. I don’t know your rules. And I don’t care to know. I’m not part of all this,” I say waving my hands in between them. “Maybe you should go, Ideal.”

  Now I’m angry. I hate all of their make-believe gang bullshit.

  “He’s also just a person, Oscar. So am I. I don’t live by some code.”

  Ideal shrugs and he shoves the envelope into the back pocket of his jeans. With this, my heart falls.

  “See you later,” Ideal says. I watch Oscar tighten his fists.

  “What the fuck was that all about, Kate, huh? You got no fuckin’ clue, do you?”

  “It’s fine, Oscar, he’s gone. I know you’re trying to protect me. The problem is me, my own self-destructiveness. Not Ideal.”

  “Did something already happen between you two?”

  “Oscar….”

  “Did you fuck that piece of shit?”

  I lose my temper. “Fuck off, Oscar! It’s none of your business. What if I did? What are you going to do? A lot has happened. Even before now. Even when Jaylee was here.”

  Then Oscar swings at me. I’m not quick enough to duck a punch, and I didn’t even see this one coming. He hits me in the jaw, along the side of my cheek. I fall back against the house and slide down the brick wall onto my butt. I grab my cheek and taste blood gathering quickly in my mouth. Oscar gets down on one knee and sticks his innocent boy-face right up in mine.

  “Maybe you don’t understand, maybe you’ not schooled with how things work around here. But Jaylee loves you. He told me to look out for you. Acting like this will get somebody killed. Can you understand that? You going to get somebody killed pulling this stupid shit.”

  ‘I’m sorry, Oscar,” I say, with tears, because I can’t not cry after being hit in the goddamn face. And on some level I know that he’s right: no matter how much I want to deny their street life, I know that it’s real.

  “Leave it to Jaylee, man, to fall for the craziest, dirtiest, hard-core bitch around. Motherfuck! You blowing my mind, Kate!” He puts out his hand and pulls me to standing.

  “You the first woman I ever hit. Hopefully the last,” he says, shaking out his hand as if the punch hurt him too.

  With that, Oscar turns and marches away from the house, without even telling me why he came. I wonder if he had a message from Jaylee, or if he just stopped by to look in on me. I lean against the house cradling my jaw with my hand. I’ve never been slugged before. I never would have guessed that Oscar would be the one to initiate me.

  I find my way inside and drag an ice pack out of the freezer. I’m worried I’ll have a huge bruise on my face, to make everyone even more curious, and get the neighbors to stare at me more than they already do. I grab some arnica out of the medicine cabinet, pour myself a cup of coffee, clamp the ice to my face, and dial Sarah. I’m hoping my unfaltering best friend can cheer me up, even after I’ve been punched in the face by a teenager—for being the neighborhood slut.

  “What’s up, Kate the Great? Any word on Emily yet?”

  “Nothing. I may get some leads tonight. I’ll let you know. …Guess what. Oscar, Jaylee’s best friend, just socked me in the face on my front stoop.”

  “Whoa. Are you okay?”

  “I’m icing it.”

  “No shit, huh? You’re so hard-core, Great. I can’t even keep up. What did you do, insult his baby gangster’s honor?”

  “I don’t know. Well, I do. I slept with some guy, Sarah.”

  “Jesus, Great. When? I just saw you a few days ago.”

  “I know. Apparently he’s in a different gang. You can do that just by standing on a different corner. I can’t keep up with it myself.”

  “Christ. I’ve never known you like this. I guess now we’ve got to make it official. You must have a thing. Officially—you have a thing.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t have a ‘thing.’ I did it out of desperation. I felt so terrible and I just—I think I just wanted to put the nail in the coffin.”

  “Nope. Sorry. Not buying it. But hey, don’t be embarrassed to have a thing. Practically everybody does—just look at the back of the Village Voice. Blatino chicks with dicks, skinny Asian girls with slouchy socks, tranny grannies. Oh my gosh, what should we call yours?”

  “Sar, just because I have sex with two guys from the neighborhood you’re going to label me with a fetish? I think a fetish requires a little more dedication than two.”

  “Absolutely! I always knew you were holding out on me. Young, thuggy, Dominican dudes who stand on the corner. Wait! Dominican Baby Gangsters - anyway something like that. Hey, I agree, it’s sexy! I’m not gonna judge you. I dig surfers.”

  “Sarah, shut up. Anyway, he’s the man from the park-house bathroom that, you know, watched—that time I told you about. He’s the same guy I went to meet. He’s DDP, apparently, which I guess is some gang, though I don’t really know.”

  “Look it up!”

  “I did. Wikipedia says DDP stands for Dominicans Don’t Play. It’s another street gang, centered mainly in Washington Heights.”

  “Shit. I was hoping maybe it was a new sexual position. Double Dutch Porking. Or Pile-driving. A gang, huh? That’s disappointing. Did you tell Robert? Are you guys open about what’s going on, or are you a cheater again?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t tell him, but I will. Jaylee insisted that I fuck Robert if I want sex.”

  “Jeez. I swear, Jaylee and Robert totally want to have sex with each other.”

  “It’s all so crazy. My husband is trying to free my lover so that I’ll never see him again, and my lover is telling me to have sex with my husband.”

  “Great, at this rate you’re destined for Jerry Springer.”

  “I really did fuck up. I miss my normal life.”

  “What about true love and soul-mates and all of those craze-amaze things you felt for Jail-y-bear?”

  “Of course I love Jaylee. But loving him gets me nowhere. I have to protect him.”

  “You can call me any time, Great. You know I’m here.”

  When she hangs up, I start to cry as I ice my swollen cheek. All of these failures only make me more determined to find my sister.

  Chapter 9

  After I’ve tucked both of the girls into bed and laid out their clothes for tomorrow, I make my way down the stairs and find Robert home early. He has the TV news on and has loosened his tie. He’s also got a drink in front of him and is looking at the mail. He looks up at me over his glasses as I descend.

  “Any news?”

  “Nothing, really. Your father is looking at getting Interpol involved.”

  “Because they think she’s left the country? Are you crazy? She’s got to be here in the Heights.”

  “Possibly,” he says and looks at me as he takes another sip of his drink. “Are you going somewhere?” Robert asks, eyeing my lightly made-up face and the blouse and jeans I’ve just changed into.

  “Yes.”

  Robert twitches his shoulders at me, an expectant look on his face.

  “I’m going out with someone who might have information about Emily’s whereabouts. Someone who really knows the neighborhood and all its inner workings.”

  “What do you mean ‘going out’?’” he asks. His face hovers between curiosity and a frown.

  Lying might be easier but it only brings more trouble in the end. I‘ll tell Robert what I’ve done. We’ve already been through this once before.

  “I am going out with someone. I slept with him, Robert.
r />   His eyes widen, then narrow.

  “Are you telling me that you’ve now moved onto another lover?”

  “I’m afraid so. I think I have a problem. Or maybe I don’t. I don’t know. I’m just trying to tell you the truth.” I look down at the floor.

  “What?” He stares at me, almost more baffled than angry. “What are you doing, Kate? Do you realize that these people are dangerous? Do you understand that they were coming for you when they kidnapped your sister? What if they’d taken the girls? What if—and I hate to even say this, but—what if Emily is dead?”

  “I’m afraid she will be, if we don’t find her first. This is me trying to do something about it.”

  “I thought you were ‘in love.’ So you cheat on him too?”

  “I didn’t go there planning to do it. I lost control in the moment. Or maybe before that, Robert. I’ve lost control of my life. The sex was an escape—it didn’t matter emotionally.”

  “Kate, I think I am done with this. With you.”

  “Well, maybe I was done with this myself a long time ago. You want me to stay, Robert, but what do you want? Am I supposed to pour myself a drink, sit down and watch Mad Men with you? Is that what you think? Because I can’t pretend not to be hurt. Or not to be angry. And I know you’re angry too. I don’t want to act like it’s working if we’re just pretending.”

  “How do we make it work if you won’t even try?”

  “I want to feel something, Robert.”

  “So you’re destroying yourself as well as our marriage by having sex with strangers? That’s what makes you feel emotions now?”

  “I was trying to get information! You won’t let me help.”

  “So you go out and sleep with someone else? I don’t see your logic.”

  “I needed some love. From you, Robert, all I get is condescension”

  “Look, with all the legal means we have, with all that your father’s doing, we can bring Emily home. Why do you doubt that, Kate? You can’t find her by yourself. You can still walk away from this. You may have fallen down some crazy dark hole, but you don’t have to keep going. Stop. Stop making it worse.”