by Ian Hall
“It belonged to one of your daughters,” he explained, “somewhat useless now that they have no feet…”
Succubus Song
By Ian Hall and April L. Miller
“‘Parting is such sweet sorrow,’” I said to the retreating subway car.
I smiled my usual smarmy smile and waved limply until the last carriage had turned the tunnel corner into the darkness beyond.
Then I spun on a dime and headed for the escalator.
“Bullshit!”
A woman turned her head sharply as I passed.
“You got a problem, lady?” I snarled, and then walked on. “Never met a broad yet that didn’t have a whole fucking suitcase of problems.”
I punctuated my diatribe with slaps of my sneakers on the concrete.
And Tanya’s got more than most.
I climbed on the moving platform and started to walk. Thankfully, no one stood in front of me; I hated people who just stood on the stairs and let themselves be drawn along.
The last car to Manhattan was sure a quiet time.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” I said, looking upwards. I smiled at the unbidden humor. “So long to sad shit!”
Yeah, Tanya the Sad Shit. Sounds like a Hollywood blockbuster.
“More like ‘Tanya the Ex-Shit’, as of ten seconds ago.” I flicked my wallet open and hooked the photograph out.
The two faces in the photo booth looked so happy.
“Our first date,” I said, twisting my grin to a grimace.
I took one last look at her face, then turned the photograph over. Tanya’s handwriting:
“Remember us
Forever this way
In our picture perfect
We will stay...”
With my usual disdain at any form of poetry, I flicked the photograph and it spun Frisbee-like in a lazy arc, and then fell dizzily onto the ‘down’ escalator.
I continued my aerobic walk up to the street level.
As I neared the top of the escalator, a shiver ran over my shoulders and I instinctively glanced behind me; the angled shaft lay empty. I peered into the depths and the lower reaches of the escalator seemed to be lost in a mist.
Smoke!
My legs crumpled, and as the series of disasters grew behind me, I tripped on the metal buffer, landing in a sprawled heap on the smooth tiles of the street surface.
I got quickly to my feet and ran the few steps into the street proper, expecting to see a mass of smoke and flame billowing upwards.
But glancing downwards, I saw nothing untoward. Taking a few steps backwards, and looking more carefully, the stairway, the escalators, the fluorescent light.
And no smoke.
I wrinkled my brow at my skittishness, and my temporary suspension of reality.
I reasoned that the strange feeling in my legs had only been the escalator coming to a smooth end.
The smoke had been my blood pounding in my head after running up the stairs.
“Asshole!” I muttered, shaking my head, and headed for the street. “Flannigan’s ‘happy hour’, here I come!”
I walked off into the New York Night.
Tanya never took that last car. She watched from behind a pillar as he waved, then followed him to the escalator.
She stood at the bottom of the ‘down’ escalator, her toes touching the intertwining combs of moving steel. One more inch and her shoes were in danger of being drawn in to the machinery.
But that never happens.
She watched the leading edge of the small paper rectangle as it made its way downward, so nonchalantly discarded. The blue corner was framed in white. She did not have to see any more. He had thrown her picture away.
Tanya took a deep breath, but it did not help. She felt so emotional; she could feel the pulse in her ears. As the object slowed, the stairs seemed to follow until each step took minutes to pass her. At last, the small card came level with her eyes, and she made out the details on the white rectangular shape.
She focused on every noise of the machinery, each cog turn, and each rotor shift. Every chain movement sounded like a single peal in her mind.
She watched as the stairway cautiously deposited the photograph at her feet.
She watched as it didn’t go through the combs!
But then it wouldn’t, and neither would my shoe!
Tanya crouched to pick it up and turned the thin card over. Edged in white. The curtain, blue. Her thin strapped dress, black; her makeup perfect, her smile radiant. Next to hers, his smile almost looked authentic, almost honest.
But his retreating form at the top of the stairs diminished such thoughts in her head.
I gave you everything! And you discarded it!
With a shrug of resolve, she stood on the ‘up’ escalator.
She flexed her fingers as she rode the moving staircase, ready for a scene at street level.
But, of course, he had gone.
She looked all around, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Sniffing the air for the scent of betrayal, Tanya made her way through the city. She clutched the photo, her one physical link to her lover. Through it she heard his final thoughts before discarding her memory.
Sad shit?
I’ll give you ‘sad shit.’
She bit back the tears and let rage carry her forward, heels clicking on the cement as she wove through a throng of bodies. The paper divining rod’s energy increased in potency and Tanya knew she neared her objective.
Flannigan’s.
There seemed no shortage of flesh on display at the meat market. Rick sat on a stool at the bar, easily visible through the window, scoping out premium cuts. He seemed to have settled on a busty brunette and motioned for the bartender to keep her drinks coming.
Tanya held back for a time, watching.
She pressed the photo to the window glass. The two faces, so much in love. Her lips mimed the words scrawled on the back:
“Remember us
Forever this way
In our picture perfect
We will stay…”
His shoulder twitched reflexively, like flinching at the buzz of an insect by his ear. Tanya smiled as the connection formed.
Rick’s sultry voice amplified within her head.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while,” he said to the brunette.
“Why didn’t you?”
Tanya could mime Rick’s response as he spoke it, “Look at you – a girl pretty as you are – I wasn’t sure you’d give me the time of day.”
“I’m glad you decided to try.”
Tanya knew the speech verbatim. “I finally figured I’d live a little – throw caution to the wind. I’d rather feel embarrassed for getting shot down than regret not having tried.” He paused, giving the brunette the George Clooney eyes. “Anyway...you seemed like you’d be worth taking that risk.”
You son-of-a-bitch.
The glass began to vibrate. She pulled the picture way too late. Rick looked over to where she stood. His glare held a fair share of malice.
My concentration on my pick-up lines got interrupted by a huge ‘crack’ like someone had hit the window with a baseball bat. I looked over as a shadow moved away. I couldn’t help being annoyed; the brunette had been distracted, too.
“So what’s your name?” I moved on lamely.
“Tanya,” she said, batting those eyelashes at me.
“Well fuck me.” The words were out of my mouth way before I could stop them. “My last girlfriend was called Tanya.”
“Tanya? That’s nice.” To describe her look as strange would be a big understatement. Her brows fell, her lip twisted in disgust. She almost turned. I tried in vain to resurrect the deal. “So what’re you actually drinking? Looks like vodka or gin?”
“Vodka, rocks, a sprinkle of vermouth.”
“Nice, I like it.” She came around again, and I started to get real interested in what lay below eye level. Man this chick looked the bomb in every way.
“You?” she asked.
“Just beer right now.”
“No, Dumbo, your name?”
“Oh, sorry. Richard; Rick for short.” I moved slightly closer. “Listen, Tanya, do you want to get a booth or something? You know – a bit more private.”
And again came the cold hose of bad attitude. “Look, Rick, you seem like a nice guy, but all the vibe I get is baggage. You know, you got too much of it for me tonight.”
I tried hard to keep up. “I’m sorry, but you’re losing me big time, and I don’t like the feeling. You look like someone I’d be interested in, and you’ve made all the moves on me, so what’s eating at you?”
“Look, Richard, like I said – you’re a nice guy. And don’t get me wrong, we could have trampled some fine grapes tonight. But you keep calling me Tanya, and no matter how hard up I get, I’m not letting you get a revenge bang in on your ex-girlfriend at my expense!”
“But you said…” I stopped before I did – whatever I did – again.
She shook her head, finalizing the end of the deal. “I said my name is Tanya.”
I gave a huge sigh of relief. This had all been some mix-up in the noise of the bar. “Right. You’re Tanya.”
I never saw it coming. The drink hit me directly in the face, the ice pieces striking my eyes and forehead.
“Fuck you, and fuck your baggage!” she said and walked off, sitting down hard on the chair with her friends.
The barman gave me a paper towel. “Women, huh?” he said.
“Yeah, another Tanya. Two sad shits in a row.”
“There’s your problem, buddy. She’s a regular and her name’s Christine. I heard her tell you, clear as day. More than once.”
I looked back at the window, then at my drink.
I put my credit card on the bar, determined to leave as soon as possible.
Tanya waited until the night had thickened. City lights played with her vision, shrouding passersby in hues of purples and greens. Slowly they all became one entity; some sinewy caterpillar with hundreds of faces. Traffic helped drown out her thoughts until she became unbound by the restraints of a flesh casing. Ethereally, she roamed the streets in search of the idol of her obsession.
She found him at an adult bookstore. Tanya floated past flagrant depictions of carnal indulgences, through shelves lined with paperback abominations to a private room behind a beaded curtain.
Rick sat alone. In one hand he clutched a magazine with the image of two women groping one another on the cover. In the other hand he clutched something entirely different.
Tanya knew the glassy gleam of his eye. Enslaved to his need and deprived of female companionship, Rick sought to placate himself. She closed in on him until he could sense her on his skin. His mouth went slack and he expelled an excited breath.
She lingered close to his ear.
“I knew you would miss me,” she whispered.
The hair on his neck reacted to her voice.
“How could you have forgotten our passion, Rick? Why would you turn away from all that I was trying to give you?”
He began to shiver. Tanya spread herself over him, her naked soul leaching into his clothes and through his skin.
She took his hand for him. His sigh rewarded her.
“You know my touch, don’t you? Can’t you smell me on your body?”
The magazine fell to the floor beside him. His body relaxed, sinking deep into the chair. His head rolled back, eyes closed.
“We belong to each other,” she told him. “You can never throw me away, Rick, try as you might. Our souls are connected.”
His hips began to sway in rhythm to her words. She brought his ecstasy to its fullness and moved his fingers up to his mouth, tracing his lips.
“Say my name, Rick. Call it out and I will come to you again…a flesh woman. We’ll never have to be parted, my love.”
He moaned as he reached climax; a shattering dazzle of whites and silvers coursed in front of his eyes.
Suddenly the beaded curtain shifted. Its loud clatter brought Rick back his surroundings. Tanya eased slowly back, surrendering possession of her lover’s body. He thrust himself upright, looking around the room with the disoriented gesticulations of one woken from a trance.
“Who the fuck is there?” he demanded.
A round-faced, squat man poked his head through the curtained doorway. “I-I’m sorry...I didn’t realize this booth was taken...”
Only then did Rick realize his pants were unzipped. He fumbled drunkenly to put himself back together. From her dark corner, Tanya could see that he still shook.
“Hey? You okay, man?” the round-faced intruder asked.
Rick held out his trembling hands, looking at them as if they were not his own. His eyes roved the room, inspecting the shadows for traces of something just out of sight.
Tanya smiled. “I’m here.”
He started at the words, more felt than heard.
“You’ll find me again, baby,” she told him as she seeped into the walls, “just say my name once more.”
Rick started for the curtain. The squat man stopped him.
“Um. Looks like you forgot something, dude.”
Tanya watched the stranger retrieve a small object from the chair and placed it in Rick’s trembling hand. Her lover blinked down at the small photograph with disbelieving eyes.
His face contorted in horror as he looked down upon his own falsely-smiling image. With twitching hands, he turned the photo over.
“Remember us
Forever this way
In our picture perfect
We will stay...”
“What the fuck is this?” His fingers shuddered as if they could not relinquish the photo. He shook his hand furiously, and the paper fell, spinning, to the floor. “Did she put you up to this, you fucking dildo?”
Rick did not wait for the squat man’s response before fleeing through the beaded curtain.
Tanya dissipated into the night, knowing very soon they would be reunited.
I got out into the street in the biggest mess of my life. I sweated like a swine. I hyperventilated badly, and I had cum in my hand and all down my pants leg.
It dripped all over the place.
I made for home, with nothing more on my mind than getting to bed, getting to sleep, and forgetting the whole day.
I had hardly got three blocks, when I heard a voice whispering behind me. It began as a quiet chant; a lullaby. “Remember us, Rick.”
I looked over my shoulder, but could see nothing in the dark streets. I walked with a purpose, keeping an eye out for a cab, but as usual, when you really need one, they’re nowhere to be found.
I began to enter familiar streets; lines of high rises began to bleed into rows of brownstones, then to single houses.
“Remember us...forever...” Behind me again, stronger now, “...we will stay...”
I stopped this time, turning right around, looking for the source. Man I felt like kicking some ass.
I stood fuming.
It began as a tingle near my neck, then I felt fingers run up my cheeks, then the kiss.
Oh, the kiss.
It felt so sensuous, my eyes closed of their own volition. Invisible lips were the sweetest nectar, phantom tongue, soft and probing. Tentatively at first, I returned the kiss, my body in full reaction.
“How could you have forgotten?” the sweet voiced trilled in my ear. Then so much louder: “I will make you remember!”
I snapped awake; standing in the street with my tongue in mid-air.
I shook with terror.
“Rick, baby, I OWN you!”
“Tanya!” I roared, spinning in all directions to find her.
Nothing.
With as much determination as I’d ever had, I returned to my homeward route and strode purposefully along the dark streets. As I neared each streetlight, it dimmed dramatically.
My hands and fingers were shaking like I’d just come out of
a freezing pool. Soon my whole body joined the frenzied bout.
I had no doubt about it; I’d suffered a terror seizure.
At last, I stumbled onto my street, my parents’ house just a hundred yards down the road. Tanya’s voice followed behind me like some stalking python: slow, cool, and deadly.
“Remember us...forever this way...”
It seemed the most painful hundred yards of my life; I walked like the poster child of every syndrome known to mankind. Then, as I touched my front gate, it suddenly stopped.
Nothing.
Grinning, I realized that I’d reached the limit of her reach. I stood on neutral ground. I’d achieved asylum.
I slowly walked up the garden path with the confident stroll of a superstar on the red carpet.
The front door opened.
My bedroom beckoned me.
I walked inside, sighing at the sheer tranquility inside.
I locked the door, sliding the bolt tight.
I crossed to the window and fastened it. I then slid a thick, wooden rod in the track, bracing it in place.
The room felt warm, and my tremors had ceased.
Like shedding bad skin, I dropped my clothes into the linen basket.
Naked, I lay on top of the bed.
Safe.
“Remember us,” her voice breathed from within the room. “Forever this way.”
He lay on the bed. In some way it felt easier to keep his eyes closed; she couldn’t be in the room.
“In our picture perfect.” Louder this time. “We will stay...”
Rick’s eyes shuddered open. He struggled to stand, guided helplessly by the chant that seemed to emanate from the walls.
“Remember us, Rick...”
“Tanya?”
“Come to me, Lover.”
The room lay pitch dark. Not so much as the display of his clock radio gleamed through it. Hands stretching like tendrils to feel his way, Rick moved slowly into the black void.
He cursed at the darkness. “What the fuck do you want from me, Bitch? Get the fuck out of my house.”
