Feral

by Serafini, Matt

  Allen's stock was in shambles all around him.

  And he’d been mystified.

  Lucy hadn’t done it for any real reason. She had spent a bit more time with Allen than usual that semester, two classes back to back on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and found herself subjected to excessive amounts of unfiltered ego as a result. More than enough to corrode the mettle of even the most patient of souls, of which Lucy was not.

  Her exhibition of spite during that winter party didn't result in a long lasting victory, however, and Allen's ego returned with the arrival of the spring semester. Lucy had been annoyed that her lesson didn’t stick.

  So how was he supposed to take the faux-affability of this conversation seriously?

  "Does this place have a monopoly on the tourism in the area now?" Allen's interest was nearly believable. "Look at the line of people waiting to get in here to eat. Must be devastating the competition."

  Lucy shrugged before offering a modest nod.

  "The locals can't be too thrilled with that," Allen said.

  "They're not," Elisabeth said. She didn't bother looking at anyone in particular.

  "Excuse me?" Lucy said. "I don't recall seeing you at the town council when my father was fighting tooth and nail to get this place built."

  "Pointless," Elisabeth said. "Deep pockets speak much louder than protest. Many realized it was futile to argue against big business."

  Lucy leaned closer, tapping her fingernails against the table. "My father never paid anyone off, if that's what you're insinuating. Where do you get off making an accusation like that while you're sitting here, a guest in his resort?"

  Jack’s eyes were anchored to his meal. He swirled mashed potatoes around with his fork hoping the budding argument would resolve itself before things worsened.

  The solidifying tension didn't faze Elisabeth. "I have not lived here for very long, but I do know what Greifsfield natives tell me about the Big East. They speak of Rory Eastman’s monopoly on the hotel business. How it threatens the competition, generations of bed and breakfasts built long ago to accent the beauty and nature of this area. This place doesn’t pay homage to that, rather it exists to dominate and outshine it."

  Elisabeth's smooth, porcelain-like features were expressionless as she reached for her wine; narrow blue eyes fell on Lucy and stared, daring her to argue her father's legitimacy.

  So that's what Lucy did, her temper burned redder than her hair.

  "I like it here." Allen managed to slide in during the argument's lull. He looked at Elisabeth as he spoke: "Lucy's father was nice enough to let Jack and I stay in one of their best cabanas for the whole summer. Not charging us a thing, either."

  Elisabeth seemed unimpressed. She stabbed at her steak, soaking it in its juices before taking a bite. She said nothing after swallowing. Just sat there looking at her date. Her face impossible to read, as it had been all night.

  Jack felt Lucy's eyes burrowing into his side. The idea that she would spend the rest of tonight tearing Elisabeth apart as soon as they freed themselves from the shackles of this dinner all but guaranteed.

  This was at least partially his fault. As such, Jack decided that he was going to nod his head, smile politely and allow her to vent. Tonight was supposed to be fun, and he was an idiot for thinking that was possible with this cast of characters.

  Some time passed before Jack looked at Lucy. Her cheeks were flushed with fire and her jaw was clenched, as if resisting the urge to speak up. Allen’s date made no notice that she had incited this, which likely inflamed Lucy even more.

  Instead, Elisabeth smiled while listening to Allen wax enthusiastic about the eighteen-hole golf course he was planning to master this summer. She even chuckled, a hollow and empty sound, when asked if she'd ever played the game.

  "I cannot say I've had the pleasure."

  "It's a long summer. You'll have it soon," Allen said.

  "If you say so." She pressed the wine glass to her mouth and emptied it, then licked away the thick red residue that stained her lips.

  Jack watched how Allen looked at his date, with puppy dog eyes and a dopey grin. He looked like a worm farmer who had just won the lottery.

  It was difficult to say whether or not Elisabeth shared the affection. She politely dismissed Allen's big push for a day on the green, saying she wouldn't rule it out in the same tone a parent tells their child that maybe they can stop off for ice cream on the way home.

  "I does not seem like it would be an easy game to learn," Elisabeth said in response to Allen's continued persistence. "You must want to see me humiliate myself."

  "That'd be impossible."

  Jack felt Lucy's eyes doing loop-d-loops in her skull. Hard to believe women bought into lines like that, but this one did. It appeared that she was capable of both civility and small talk, too, meaning that her vow of silence toward him and Lucy was a conscious decision. An insult.

  "There are other things to do around here," Elisabeth said. "Things that I think you'll find much more interesting than whacking a ball with a club."

  "A bold statement."

  "Trust me."

  They sat there in silence, making eyes at one another.

  It wasn't hard for Jack to see that she did at least hold some regard for his best friend. Whether or not it was long term remained to be seen, but it was there. And it should've been enough to suppress his growing disdain for Elisabeth, but it wasn't. In fact, it made things worse as he sat there trying to ignore their flirtation. It grew into clipped and hushed tones that alienated Jack and Lucy once and for all.

  Allen and Elisabeth succeeded in extracting themselves from the evening's unpleasantness without even leaving the table.

  This wouldn't have ticked him off so much had it not been Allen's idea to begin with. Jack agreed to it out of loyalty. His real interest tonight was in catching a Depeche Mode cover band, It’s No Good, playing a bar in downtown Pittsfield. Instead of a guys’ night out, increasingly rare these days, Allen had pitched a couple’s night out.

  “It’ll be great. Lucy and Elisabeth will get along well,” he'd said.

  It wasn’t and they didn’t.

  Across the table, Allen mumbled in Elisabeth's ear, prompting laughter and a healthy jiggle in her chest.

  "Allen," Jack said, determined to interrupt the private party. "They're doing a Bronson double header to close out revival week tomorrow night."

  Allen kept speaking in Elisabeth's direction and to her only. After a long minute, he turned to Jack and shrugged.

  "That's cool," he said.

  "I know it is. You interested in checking it out?"

  "I don't know."

  "What's not to know? How can you turn down Death Wish II and Ten to Midnight?"

  "I’ll play it by ear."

  "C’mon, it's one night."

  Allen turned to Elisabeth and whispered in an interrogative tone. Was he asking for permission? Elisabeth glanced in Jack's direction, again avoiding eye contact. Had she actually looked him once in the eye the whole night? He didn't think so.

  "I don't think I've ever seen a Charles Bronson movie," Lucy said. "Maybe I'll join you. Although I'm not sure why...some of the crappy movies you’ve made me watch over the years, you'd think I'd learn my lesson."

  "Bronson's not the type of thing women generally enjoy, Luce."

  "Right. The stuck up, narrow-minded ones, sure." Lucy made it a point to lock onto Elisabeth as she said it. "But I like to think of myself as one of them open-minded gals. I hate that 'guy movie' elitism anyway."

  "It's just that I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman keen on Charles Buchinski. Back me up, Allen."

  "Well they're not exactly good movies. An acquired taste for a film geek, really."

  Jack glared. It wasn’t Allen's sudden change in opinion that got to him, although they had bonded over Bronson’s Cannon Group collaborations many times in the past, but rather the dismissal of their mutual hobby. Who was this asshole sitting across th
e way? Death Wish II was more than 'an acquired taste for a film geek.' Allen couldn't have believed that. How many times had they championed it? It was a historical document proving that they used to make action films with balls. Not like that watered-down, special effects-driven bullshit of today.

  Jack wanted to argue this rhetoric, but he opted for a disgusted sigh instead. Allen was eager to turn his attention back to Elisabeth, anyway.

  "I'll go with you," Lucy said. "God knows that you've got to spend time with someone this summer."

  If Allen heard the insult, he didn't bother acknowledging it.

  Jack reached for his beer and took a frustrated swig, glaring at the infatuated couple in equal parts disbelief and disgust. Elisabeth had subtly swiveled her seat to one side, editing Jack and Lucy from her view. Her long fingers stroked the lusterless pendant that dangled above her cleavage as she listened to her date intently.

  The waitress came by to check in. Lucy whispered something about the bill being thrown on her tab before anyone could get a word in. Then she adjusted her own seat to face Jack.

  "What's on our agenda? Dessert for two tonight?"

  "And tomorrow, apparently."

  "And the night after that."

  "And the night after that."

  Lucy laughed. "Pittsfield isn't far, and it only feels later than it actually is. If you've really got to see some fifty year old guy impersonate David Gahan while belting out Just Can’t Get Enough, I suppose we could make it happen."

  Jack smiled. Lucy never took an interest in his appreciation for cult and exploitation flicks, and she preferred that electronic dance crap to anything of musical substance, but he appreciated her offer. They weren't a couple, so there was no need to accommodate him in that way. Tonight's proposal wasn't anything more than a pity invite, but a touching gesture all the same, especially considering Allen had more important things to do, apparently.

  He wondered whether or not he could really blame Allen for his sudden immersion into the world of Elisabeth Luna. She was a striking creature without argument. But did that mean he had to spend every waking minute with her? His tally had them in each other's company for ten days straight, and with no sign of slowing down. He hadn't even come back to the room the last two nights.

  With dinner service all but finished, Jack reached for his wallet. Without the bill, it was tough to know what to tip the waitress, but he decided that a twenty should cover it.

  He spotted a familiar face moving through the crowd.

  Molly Perkins.

  She bobbed around overcrowded tables with a wobbly and uncertain gait, a familiar sight to anyone who spent time at Fitchburg State frat parties. Her head lolled from side to side as she approached. The margarita in her hand sloshed up over the glass rim, staining her white tank top. She took a shaky stance at the table’s edge, smiling down at Allen.

  Popular guy, Jack thought.

  "Well, welllllllll." Her eyes fluttered and rolled as she attempted to make contact. "I've been trying to get a hold of you...whaaa's tha matta, you don't wanna talk to me?"

  "Hi, Molly." Allen looked humbled for the first time this evening.

  She continued as if he'd said nothing. "Jus 'cause you dumped me doesn't mean we can't talk...spechhhially since we're both staying here."

  "I don't know that talking is a great idea, Molly."

  Something changed in the girl's eyes. Her glazed greens narrowed and she was suddenly alert. "I can't fucking believe you!"

  The tables around theirs looked on, which seemed to outrage Allen more than anything. He leaned in and told Molly to keep her goddamn voice down.

  She didn't. Wouldn't. And his castigation only made her more rebellious. Her attention was onto Elisabeth, looking her over with scrutiny. "Allen and I used to go out. Used to fuck." She managed to pop that word so that it was louder than even the music.

  "Alrighty." Lucy bolted up out of her seat. "I'm gonna walk you back to your room."

  Molly ignored her, fixated on Elisabeth who watched the drunken girl with a cocked and curious eyebrow.

  "Did he tell you what he likes? Do you lick his ass while jerking him?"

  "How very charming," Elisabeth said.

  Molly wasn't done prodding, though. "He can almost never finish, you know. And when he does, he has to concentrate really hard." Her glassy stare wandered back to Allen. She gagged twice as if she were going to vomit, but choked it down. "She deserves to know what a disappointment you're going to be, don’t you think? Want me to tell her about the time you cried because you couldn't stay hard?"

  More and more people took note of the impending scene. Nearby tables looked on, fascinated by this train wreck. Some sympathetic eyes fell on Allen while Molly garnered a volley of disdainful glares.

  "Okayyyyyyyyy, really." Lucy slid an arm around Molly. "You had a few too many margaritas tonight, hun, and who can blame you? They're delicious. But why don’t you let me take you home, okay? We can talk there."

  A tiny part of Jack had been enjoying the character assassination. He would’ve felt bad for his friend under normal circumstances, but having just been subjected to the most uncomfortable dinner situation this side of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, this was par for the course.

  Molly stumbled back, latching onto Lucy to prevent a fall. Then she threw her palms down on the table and leaned in to Elisabeth so close that their noses might’ve touched.

  "What are you trying to do to me?" Her voice was drowned in despair.

  Elisabeth didn't bat an eyelash.

  "He was mine, you know. I would've won him back if not for you. We were going to get married."

  "Were, being the operative word of your sentence."

  Molly’s head dropped between slouching shoulders, defeated. She shook her head as if answering a question she hadn’t been asked.

  Allen, taking a page from Lucy’s playbook, tried to get his date’s attention, but Elisabeth wasn't interested. Instead, she watched Molly with curiosity. Her arms folded across her chest and the tiniest smile was visible at the corners of her mouth, completely unmoved by the girl's desperate plea.

  A woman who likes to win, Jack thought.

  "You should have a bit more respect for yourself, girl." Elisabeth said. "Men do not find this behavior alluring. You're going to invoke sympathy if anything at all."

  Molly’s volume cranked back up to eleven. “Like you know me? You don’t know shit! What, you think just because you’re older makes you sexier? Only makes me wonder why you're not married. Oh, the issues you must be hiding. And how old are you, anyway? Huh? Thirty-five? How long ‘til that shit starts to sag?” Flakes of spittle sprayed as she spoke. "Remember that day I saw the two of you downtown..."

  "This is the first time I have laid eyes on you."

  "Allen saw me and tried to pretend that he didn't. But I sure as shit saw you. I even asked some of the people in the store about you. Come to find out that you’ve got yourself a little reputation. You might as well tattoo a big ol' red A to those tits on account of the number of marriages you’ve ruined, you fucking whore."

  Lucy scooped a quick arm around Molly and pulled her away. "Well you've definitely said your piece, girl. Mine too." Her eyes flashed at Elisabeth as she spoke. "Now let Allen sit here and think about what a jerk he is, okay? Let's you and I head back."

  Molly wobbled back and forth in Lucy’s arms, reluctant at first, but eventually allowing herself to be led off. Lucy looked back over her shoulder and mouthed "call me," to Jack before disappearing into the sea of patrons.

  "So that was my ex," Allen said. "You might be asking yourself how I could afford to let such a treasure go..."

  "She's pretty," Elisabeth said. "That's the most I can say."

  "That's kind enough, believe me. I’m sure you can see why she’s an ex."

  "We’ve all got them," Elisabeth's tone was humorless as her fingers continued rubbing her necklace.

  "Had enough excitement for one night?" Allen ask
ed.

  "I haven't had any excitement yet," she said. "I'm expecting that to come later on."

  Allen looked at Jack with that recurring dopey grin. "We're going to be getting out of here, buddy. You need any cash or anything?"

  "Forget about it. Get me next time."

  "You got it." He and Elisabeth stood up in synchronicity. “Take it easy buddy.” Allen wrapped an arm around his date's waist and together they followed Lucy’s trail to the exit.

  "Nice meeting you," Jack called out, annoyed by Elisabeth’s refusal to say goodbye. Neither person turned to acknowledge him.

  He sat alone and realized this was the first time he’d felt comfortable all night. His beer had warmed to swill but he finished it anyway. Contemplated ordering another but thought the better of it. Too much beer made him sleepy, which wasn't going to work if he wanted to catch It's No Good.

  He waited for the waitress to return, handed her the twenty and then headed back to the cabana. The walk was relaxing. It was a little past ten and the grounds of the Big East showed no signs of slowing down. He headed away from the activities range, walking past the fenced in swimming pool area, still abuzz with children’s laughter and booming splashes following the boing of the diving board. Most hotel pools closed at sundown, but this one sported enough halogen lighting to maintain the illusion of permanent daylight.

  His room was in the rightmost corner of the resort grounds, accessible from a narrow path that wound through a series of pines. The mountain breeze was faint, but it felt cool on his face as he slipped onto the darkened trail illuminated by string lights that marked the path.

  He contemplated taking a quick right and heading to Molly's cabana. Lucy would be there, but he wasn't interested in crashing that party. One of two things had to be happening right now: Lucy was holding Molly's hair as regurgitated margarita got puked into the toilet, or there was full-on waterworks with a lot of 'why me' theatrics. Either way, no thank you.