by Olivia White
"I love you," she said, pouting her lips in that infuriating, petulant way of hers. "I want to be with you."
I smiled politely.
"I'm not really your type," I told her. "I'm not really anybody's type."
"That's utter bullshit. You know that," she replied indignantly, crossing her arms tightly below her breasts.
We were standing on the sidewalk, in one of those streets that isn't quite the heart of the city, but is close enough to still contain a fair bit of traffic. It was hard to be heard over the cars that roared past every now and then, probably breaking numerous traffic laws. I frowned, concerned.
"Why would I say something that was 'utter bullshit'?" I asked her.
"I don't know do I? You said it." She made an unattractive sighing noise. "It's just one of those things that people say isn't it? A brush-off or whatever."
"No, I don't think so," I told her patiently. "It is what it is."
"But everyone loves you. You've always got people approaching you. Hell, I approached you."
"That doesn't make me their type though, does it?"
I began walking off, hoping she wouldn't follow. I knew that was very unlikely, but at least I was moving.
It had started to rain lightly, the drizzle making my face uncomfortable. I began to wish I'd worn a hat. I could hear Penny's footsteps following close behind.
"Where are you going? Stop and talk," she whined.
I stopped and turned around.
"Look, it's raining," I said, looking up at the overcast sky. Dark clouds were moving in. I was sure it was going to storm at any minute. "Lets go get a coffee or something."
"Fuck you, Loose," she muttered. Then; "Okay, okay whatever."
I put my hand on her shoulder. "Good girl."
"You're so fucking patronizing," she said, her face a mixture of annoyance and longing.
I shrugged.
As we walked, she kept imploring me to listen to her. She was moaning about something or other. I pretended I couldn't hear her over the noise of the traffic, but I wasn't exactly listening either.
Pretty soon we came to a small, dirty-looking cafe The hand-painted sign above the window read 'Joe's Dinner'. I wasn't sure if this was an horrific misspelling or what, and a glance at the interior suggested the place was suitably unpleasant. I opened the door and a bell rang quietly somewhere out back. I stepped aside to let Penny in, then closed the door behind me. I looked back out into the street; it had started raining much harder now. A man hurried past, covering his head with a newspaper. I smiled at him and turned back into the diner.
Penny was already sat in a booth by the window, probably so she could gaze miserably at the rain outside. Sighing inwardly, I slid into the seat opposite her and pretended to study the menu intently, even though I knew full well what I'd be ordering.
"We need to talk," she said.
I pretended that I hadn't heard her and carried on reading the grease-stained menu. I held the edges of the laminate with the tips of my fingers, unwilling to touch the congealed sauce and God knows what else.
"We need to talk," she repeated.
"Hmm?" I didn't look up.
I felt her wrench the menu from me, and watched as she tossed it onto the seat beside her.
"Fucking look at me," Penny said. So I did.
"What? What exactly do you want to talk about?"
"Why are you breaking up with me?"
I could see she'd been crying a bit. A thin line of mascara ran down her pale cheek and her brown eyes shone. Her bottom lip was trembling. It actually made her look pretty attractive. Not that she wasn't pretty anyway, she definitely was. That wasn't it, really. The rain had slicked down her glossy dark hair, and she brushed a strand of it away from her forehead. She looked vulnerable and innocent, sitting there in her usual morose black clothes, chewing gently on her lip.
She wasn't the type of girl I'd normally go for. Far too scene, I think they'd say. Part of that whole not-quite-Goth culture, all of whom had been born too late to be part of the 80s movement. I rarely found that kind of look classy. In fact I rarely frequented the kinds of places where I'd meet people like Penny. That night, a couple weeks before, had been an exception. I guess I was just bored.
Penny was tapping her long nails on the table impatiently.
"Why are you breaking up with me?" she asked demandingly.
"I'm not breaking up with you. That would imply we were together in the first place."
She looked at me with a wide-eyed stare.
"You're sickening and you make me sick," she said, obviously fighting back more tears. I guess she had some kind of concept of not giving me 'the satisfaction' or something, whatever it is that people say about things like that. I've never really understood it.
I smiled politely. "Thanks."
"You know what I mean, anyway. We were doing fine, having fun, then suddenly it's 'Oh we can't see each other any more'. Couldn't you at least explain it?"
"Penny," I said seriously, resting my chin on my hands. "Do you remember what I said to you, that night after we'd left the club, in the taxi back home?"
Penny thought for a moment, brushing away another strand of hair and tucking it behind her ear.
"Good afternoon! Can I take your orders?"
A fat, plain-looking waitress had sidled up to the table quietly. Who knew how long she'd been standing there? She was clutching her notepad so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. I could see she was shaking slightly. She turned her gaze on me, tossing her platinum-blonde curly hair my way. I wondered if it was an attempt to be seductive. If it was, it didn't work in the slightest.
"Y'all ready to order, sir?"
Her accent was horrendous.
"Black coffee, no sugar, please," I said. I shot her a winning smile. Cruel, perhaps, but maybe it'd brighten her day.
Her face flushed red. "Anythin' to eat with that, sir?"
I cracked the knuckle of my right index finger. "No, I'm good thanks."
"And you, ma'am?" the waitress asked, addressing Penny. Penny was staring out the window.
"Penny, pay attention to the woman," I said in what I intended to be a patronizing way. Penny shot me a dirty look.
"Ummm… you got any cherry pie?"
"Do we! We got the best damn cherry pie in the whole of New York," the waitress said, beaming. I noticed one of her canine teeth was missing. To top it all off, her name-badge read 'Barbie'. You couldn't make this shit up.
"Yeah, I'll have some of that, with ice-cream. And a vanilla milkshake," Penny said.
I rolled my eyes. "You're such a child at times."
"Fuck off, Loose," she hissed, then smiled falsely at the waitress. "I'm twenty seven you know. Not a child."
The waitress patted Penny's shoulder reassuringly. Penny flinched.
"Men, eh?" Barbie chuckled, but she shot me a wink to show she wasn't serious. Penny shrugged Barbie's hand off her shoulder and went back to looking out the window. Barbie just stood there staring at me.
"Was there… anything else?" I asked her tentatively.
"Oh, no, no…" She blushed again and scurried off, her flat sneakers making one hell of a racket on the sticky floor.
Penny was still looking out the window mournfully, twiddling a piece of her hair between her thumb and index finger. I coughed to get her attention.
"So do you remember what I said?"
Penny's top lip twitched into some kind of snarl. She was annoyed, now. Good.
"You said…"
"Here you go! Coffee, cherry pie and a milkshake!"
It was Barbie again, with her irritating enthusiasm, this time clutching a tray which she seemed to be struggling with. She placed a large, steaming mug of coffee in front of me. Two packets of sugar and a carton of cream sat on the saucer, wet with a bit of coffee that had spilled over the side of the mug. I nodded my head in thanks, then slipped the milk and sugar into her apron pocket when she wasn't looking.
"And this is for you, darlin
'," she said to Penny, placing the plate of pie and ice-cream in front of her, followed by a fork and spoon, and finally the milkshake. It was in a large float glass with a pink curly straw sticking out of it. I laughed, sneering.
"Shut up," Penny whispered, then turned to Barbie and thanked her.
"That's alright, you guys enjoy your order now, y'hear," Barbie said, far too loudly.
"Yes," I said, and made a point of letting her know I was no longer regarding her.
She made a 'hmmph' sound and spun on her heel, walking back behind the counter over the other side of the diner.
The momentary peace gave me an opportunity to survey the shithole we were in. All the seats were a hideous shade of orange, the plastic-coated cushions in various states of disrepair. The walls were stained yellow, and I noticed that a number of tables had ashtrays on them. Ours just had a limp bouquet of fake flowers in a chipped white vase, and a set of salt and pepper shakers in the shape of the old World Trade Center. I wondered if this was a tribute, or whether they were just really old. It was hard to tell, everything in that place looked old or worn-out.
The only other customer was a weather-beaten old man, sitting at a stool near the till, wearing a filthy coat. I wondered if he was a hobo. Barbie seemed pretty familiar with him, flirtatious almost. I shuddered. His eyes seemed to be fixed on her oversized chest.
Penny was eating her pie in small mouthfuls. She saw me looking at her.
"Mmm, it's good," she announced happily, her words slightly muffled by food. She took a forkful of pie and ice-cream and pointed it at me. "Try some."
I leaned forward and ate her offering. She was right, it wasn't bad. Penny smiled at me as I chewed.
"Nice, isn't it?"
I swallowed, nodded.
She had a spot of ice-cream at the corner of her mouth. I picked up a napkin and reached over, dabbing the dessert away. Penny had that look on her face, the one where she didn't know whether to smile or cry. She finished up her pie and looked at me. I took a sip of the coffee. It was vile.
"This is fucking disgusting coffee," I said. Penny beamed at me. I wasn't sure if she'd misheard.
"I suppose we'd better continue where we left off, before that nice lady came over," she said slowly. I could see her smile fading.
I was eager to get this done with. Why was this always so hard? I cursed my idiocy.
"Yeah, can you remember what I told you?"
Penny bit her lip, thinking. Then she took a deep breath and began, the words spilling out hastily as if she were glad to be rid of them.
"You said… 'I'll tell you now, so you're under no illusions. This is meaningless. You'll come back to mine, jump into my bed, then tomorrow it'll be goodbye without so much as breakfast. You'll probably want to leave. Maybe you won't and maybe you'll stay for longer. We might hang out for a while. Fuck around, have some fun. But then in the blink of an eye it'll be over. If you convince yourself you love me then I'll break your heart. I'll offer no apologies if that time comes, because I've been nothing but honest. Do you still want to come back with me?'." She looked at me pleadingly. "Did I do good?"
I was somewhat taken aback. "Uh, it was something like that, yeah. More or less."
Penny scowled and broke eye contact. "It was word for fucking word. And I thought it was cute. It was the most honest thing that anyone's ever said to me, so I thought it was a lie."
"Figures," I said. The bane of being truthful. Nobody believes you. "That wasn't exactly my fault. I invited you back whilst making it perfectly clear what would happen. You chose to come, knowing this, and I even asked you if you were sure."
"And I said yes, and I did, and we've spent two fucking weeks together, Loose. Two weeks. And it was great. You know it. I've never been happier. I mean that."
"Honestly, I don't understand. I'm not supposed to make you happy. You're not the first girl to say this to me, either."
"Hah," Penny spat bitterly. "You make it sound like I'm just one of many."
"You are," I said. "I never said you were special."
Somehow, I felt a very uncharacteristic pang of remorse as she reeled back.
"I…"
"Look, I'm sorry. I just abhor lying."
Penny choked back a sob. She wiped her eyes with the back of her slender hand.
"I have to go and I'm going. Goodbye."
She slid out of the booth and stood up.
It was a situation I'd been in hundreds, possibly even thousands of times before. I always let them walk away. Let them get over it however they wanted, without me. It was always for the best. They never saw it like that of course, but I was just looking out for them. I am not cruel.
I reached out and touched her arm, on instinct.
"Please don't go yet," I said. "I… I don't want you to go yet."
It was only after I'd said it that I realized it was true. Had it always been true? Perhaps not. But I would not have said it if it wasn't.
Penny didn't need any more reassurance. She sat straight back down. I could sense a glimmer of hope in her face. Even I didn't know where this was going. My head was spinning. I blamed the piss-poor beverage. Imagine that. An entire world unraveled because of shit coffee.
"You want to talk, is that it?" she asked. "So then talk."
"Well I…" I began, but she cut me off, placing a finger to my lips.
"I'll talk. You say I'm just one of many. Do you just go out looking to fuck, then? Just trawl the clubs, the bars, wherever, just looking for the next piece of ass?"
She said this matter-of-factly, pleasantly. She didn't even seem angry, just curious. I felt like I was in the dock again, being judged so dispassionately. Those people, not even programmed to comprehend why I was the way I was.
"That's not it at all," I told her. "I go out because I like going out."
"But you were alone that night. You can't tell me that you weren't out looking to pick someone up."
"I can, and I will. I wasn't out looking to pick someone up. I wanted a quiet drink. You approached me, remember."
"Only because you were eyeing me up. You can't deny that."
"I was, yes. Because you're very attractive. You didn't have to make a move."
Penny sighed. "What was I supposed to do? I was alone in a club, being eyed up by the most good-looking man I've probably ever seen." She paused. "Don't get an ego trip over that, please. Anyway I was alone and we were both alone. You would have approached me eventually."
"Almost certainly not," I said. "I've learned by now that these things never go well."
"So why didn't you just say no? You could've said no, you know."
I shook my head. "I couldn't have. I really couldn't have."
"Is this one of those 'I can resist everything but temptation' things?"
She smiled slightly. I smiled back.
"That's... kind of exactly it, yeah. But not my temptation. Yours. I couldn't resist your temptation. It's a genuine problem I've had to put up with for a long, long time."
"So, what, basically you're powerless to say no if someone wants to fuck you?"
I put my head in my hands. Explaining things is difficult when you're dancing around an elephant in the room.
"So," she went on. "Ms Barbie over there, if she asked you to go back to her place, to have a bit of 'fun'… you couldn't say no?"
I exhaled, frustrated. "I could say no. She wouldn't really want it. She'd just want someone, not specifically me. It's... it's complicated."
"You mean it's complicated unless they're your age with nice tits and a short skirt, right?"
I felt like I was being psychoanalyzed. Part of me enjoyed it.
"Sadly, I can very much assure you that's not the case." I shuddered, thinking back over my life. "Also, for the record, you're not my age."
"I don't even know your age, in fact I don't know anything! It's ridiculous. You've never told me a goddamn thing. I've been sleeping with a stranger for the last goddamn fortnight. I should feel disgu
sting."
I shook my head. It would be easier to let her realize why this was wrong by herself.
"I don't, though," she added. "I don't at all. I feel comfortable, familiar, at ease. And I hate myself for it."
"Listen, you shouldn't beat yourself up." I let an ounce of concern seep into my voice. I was beginning to worry about her. She'd never struck me as the most stable of girls.
"You know what this feels like? You know, like, when you've got a thing for a celebrity, and you know it's not just a crush, you actually love them, you watch all their films or listen to all their music, and you actually love them, y'know? And then you read stories about which starlet they're fucking, or who they've married for five minutes. And it hurts. It really fucking hurts, because you love them and they're out there screwing some Hollywood A-Lister and they'll never, in a million years, even know you exist. And you know that if you could just reach them, once, they'd see that you were the one, the right one, the perfect one for them. But you never will. And it just eats you up inside like fucking cancer or something. Y'know?"
"That's not love, that's obsession," I told her. "You're supposed to feel that way about those people. Their publicists, the media, they manipulate you into feeling like shit. You're not supposed to feel that way about me. So when you do, yeah, it's fucked up and I can't say no."
"You're fucking cold, you know that?" she said, her bottom lip trembling again. I could see where this was going. "Cold and weird. But anyway, I feel like this with you, but it's so much worse. It feels like you don't even know I exist but you're sitting right opposite me, we've shared two weeks together, shared a bed, you've seen every fucking thing of me there is to see. But it's like I'm nothing, and I feel like nothing, and you've been inside me, you've fucking been inside me, and you won't let me inside, in other ways, and oh God, I love you and it hurts more than love ever should."
Tears began streaming down Penny's face. She made no attempt to wipe them away. Her mascara dripped black down her cheeks.
I felt like I wanted to hold her, to tell her it'd be alright. But how could I? I couldn't lie, after all.
"You're just confused," I said, resisting the urge to take her hand. "You don't love me. You can't. You'll see this in time, when I'm out your life."
She sniffled. "Loose… I don't… WANT YOU OUT MY LIFE."
She slammed her palm on the table. The old tramp and Barbie looked over at us. I waved at them in a nonchalant way and thinking 'fuck it', I took Penny's hand. What was the worst that could happen? Her skin felt cold and smooth. I shivered inwardly. I was feeling pretty strange, all told.
She continued. "And how dare you, how DARE you tell me I don't love you. How can you know that? How the fuck can you presume to tell me what I feel? You act like you know everything, like you're so fucking experienced, but I think you've just got intimacy issues or one of those other bullshit things that people say." She sobbed harder. "But seriously, you have no fucking right. How can you know?"
"I know. I just know. You don't love me. I'm sorry if you think you do," I said. "It's not how this works. It's not even in your biology."
She looked up at me with tears still running down her face.
"I want you to hold me, Loose. That's all I want. Just now, right now, I don't care if you won't speak to me again, I just want it right now."
Her voice was trembling. I stood up, out the booth. For a minute she looked at me in fear, as if worried I was about to leave. But I walked beside her seat and she slid over. I sat next to her and put my arm round her, pulling her close. She rested her head on my shoulder, her face turned towards me slightly. I could feel her breath on my cheek. It smelled of cherries. I kissed her forehead, then using a napkin I wiped the mascara from her cheeks, dabbing gently at her eyes. The act felt oddly sensual. Tenderness. It was a new, strange sensation. I felt a brief moment of fear. Something wasn't right. Penny smiled and giggled quietly. I kissed her forehead again.
"You know this, too, doesn't mean anything?" I said. A searing pain shot through my brain. I winced. Lying always hurt.
"Ssssh," she said, putting her finger to my lips again.
"Look, you haven't touched your milkshake," I pointed out.
"You said it made me childish. So I don't want it any more."
Something strange was going on in my head. Something that, in all my years on this earth, I had honestly never felt before. I felt awful, for a start.
"I didn't say that. I implied it. But hey…" I picked up the milkshake and put the end of the straw in my mouth, then drank some. "I guess I'm childish too now."
She looked up at me. I put the straw to her lips and she sucked on it.
"Is good," Penny said, then swallowed.
I laughed. I felt her body relax next to mine.
She started to say something then stopped. "Last night I dreamed of Death," she announced instead. "She was beautiful, and we kissed through a mirror."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I replied. Something about the image amused me far too much.
"Oh, just a dream, y'know? Tell me now, you don't dream either."
"Correct."
"Oh bullshit!" She punched me softly in the chest. "Everybody dreams. Anyway, it had something to do with those comics I was reading."
"And you wonder why I call you childish," I said, stroking her wet hair affectionately. Who cared if it was wrong? It shouldn't be allowed. And yet, it was happening.
She pouted her lips in that infuriating, petulant way again, and I realized I actually found it endearing.
"There's nothing childish about comic books! There are all sorts of awesome ones, like Death, who is a girl. And ones about a priest, ones about famous people from books, or Jack The Ripper, and haha, a man who dresses like a bat."
"I'm not so culturally inept as to be unaware of Batman," I said. "But Death is a thirty-something black guy who currently lives in Pennsylvania."
We sat in silence for a while, then, my arm around her shoulder.. I was overcome with a longing which was anything but lustful. It scared me. I felt like I should say something and leave. But I didn't want to. It was the last thing I wanted to do. And for the first time ever, I didn't feel like I had to.
I drowned out the sounds of Barbie and the hobo whispering to each other, of the chef muttering in broken English. I listened to Penny's heartbeat. It was fast, strong. Alive.
She began to trace a line with her fingernail on my shirt, still slightly damp with the rain.
"Does it really have to end?" she asked softly, as if she were afraid of the answer.
I opened my mouth to say yes, felt the dull nagging pain in my head, went to say no instead.
The sounds of a radio interrupted me. I turned to look. Barbie had obviously turned it on from behind the counter. '...statement from The White House later today...'
"Sounds like there's trouble brewing," I said.
"There's always trouble brewing," Penny said. "Isn't there?"
She looked me directly in the eyes. Somewhere, across the infinite nothingness of space, I felt my heart breaking. Then, no, it wasn't my heart. Something had changed. What was it?
"Do you love me?" she asked.
Of the hundreds, thousands, of women, and men, who had in the past desired me or what I could give them, Penny was the first to ask me this question. I'd been told to say 'I love you' in the heat of passion, in that moment of lust where you say anything and it has no meaning, but never like this.
With her heart bared open to me, she asked me if I loved her. The question I'd always wanted to be asked in the moment I'd always wanted to be asked it.
"Yes," I said simply.
"Then why did you want it to be over, before?"
"I love you, Penny," I said. I felt her tense. "I love you. I've always loved you. From the moment I saw you and even before that, before we even met. I love you. I can't help but love you. This is why I'm so torn up, because I always knew I'd love you. I just never expected that I'd
be in love with you. But I am in love with you as well. And that's why, however much you think you're hurting, however difficult you think this is, it's going to get worse."
I realized the radio was silent. Barbie and her disheveled friend were speaking in hushed whispers. The chef was silent.
"Loose, you're wrong," Penny said. A knowing look flashed across her face. "It won't get worse. This is the beginning. The beginning of the end, maybe, but it's still the beginning."
I kissed her forehead and felt her tremble.
"Now it's my turn not to understand," I said. "And, honestly, I trust you. I want to believe you. But you can't be in love with me. It just isn't possible, and I pray to God, if he'd even consider listening to me, that it were. I pray to God that after so many years of emptiness, of loneliness and sympathy, of watching people like you, of wanting more than temptation and desire and pain, I pray this could be true. I want you to love me, but I don't see that you can."
Echoing, resounding silence. A single tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn't been open like that since the trial, that one day that changed everything. I was beyond the point of being surprised.
Things do change, I suppose. They did before. They could again. Penny was crying silently.
"You seem so sure. I thought it was just a way of getting out of a situation, putting the blame on me. I thought it was some self-pitying shit. But you seem so fucking sure, like you know something I don't."
She stopped speaking and stared into my bright blue eyes.
"Who are you, Loose?" she asked. "What do you know?"
"I'm just someone," I whispered, "and I know some things. That's all."
"You say you know I don't love you. I don't understand it. But I've realized…"
I felt the breath leave my body. Here it was, the revelation, the breaking of the spell. The time when she could move on like everyone else. In my head I said a silent thank you for her salvation, and a curse for my damnation.
I wasn't sure I'd ever get over it this time.
Love, eh?
"I…" Penny said, drawing it out. "I am in love with you. I honestly don't care what you think you know, or what is supposed to be true, or whatever. I love you and I'm in love with you and I want to make love to you and with you and I never want this to ever fucking end. I don't know the first thing about you or who you are or what you've done to think I can’t love you, and I really don't care. I know how I feel, I've never been more fucking sure of anything in my life. I know that I want you to hold me like this forever, I want to be in your arms when I eventually die. I want you beside me when it's dark, and stormy, and everything else is fucked. I don't care who you've been with before and I know in my heart that if you stayed with me there would be no-one else after. And I don't care why you're punishing yourself, whether you've loved and lost or even if it's some shit like you have abandonment issues because of your father or something."
I couldn't help but smile bitterly at the last statement. Penny didn't notice, or if she did then she didn't let me know.
"I don't know what else I can say. I'll beg you to believe me, if you want that. Just tell me what I can do to prove it to you and I'll do it. I love you, I love you and I love you and I'm not going to let you walk away for some bullshit reason that doesn't mean anything to anyone and will ruin something perfect and I'll never get over it and oh fuck, please believe me."
She began crying heavily, taking wet gulps of air to catch her breath. I held her close and took her hand, every part of us touching in that booth in that cheap cafe while the rain beat electric rhythms on the window panes.
I believed her. And I knew, then, with her, the world had changed forever.
I leaned down and kissed her passionately on the lips. I felt her tongue on mine, gentle, probing, exploring each other for the first time. I could hear her heartbeat getting faster, louder, and I knew in that instant, as we kissed and stars turned to supernovas somewhere above us, that I was free. Somehow, I was free.
We kissed for what felt like forever. Then she removed her lips from mine and rubbed her cheek against my neck. I kissed the top of her head.
"I have something really important to tell you," she said finally. I blinked. "It might shock and surprise you. Prepare yourself."
I swallowed dryly.
"Hmm?" I asked casually, feigning nonchalance. I was on edge.
"I need to use the bathroom," she said. Inwardly I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and patted her stomach.
"Hurry back," I cautioned. "we have a lot of planning to do. And I should probably explain some stuff."
Fuck it, I thought. Why not?
"That might help!" Penny said eagerly. "We can work out where we go from here, take it slowly if you want. I'll help you work through these issues!"
"Why wait?" I asked. "Why plan? Lets be spontaneous. You're just staying with a friend here anyway, right? Move in with me, if you want."
It felt right. I wanted it more than anything. I didn't even consider that for once I might be coming across too intensely for someone else.
"That's not… too much, is it?" I asked, worried now.
Penny's beautiful face was lit up with the brightest smile I've ever seen.
"No! Not at all! I'd love that. But I really need to use the bathroom."
I stood up and let her get out the booth. She kissed me on the cheek as she walked away. I sat down and watched her go, watched her pause for a second as she looked about, trying to locate her destination. My eyes surveyed the curves of her body, the lightness of her steps, the way she subconsciously rubbed her cheek against the fur collar of her jacket every now and then. The fact that I knew, even though I couldn't see her face, that she was happy.
It was the first time I'd ever felt that I'd actually, genuinely, made someone happy. Satisfied, plenty of times. But happy? No. Empty maybe. Addicted. Tempted. Desiring. But happy?
That is how I knew.
I sat there contemplating this as Penny passed through the door towards the bathrooms and out of my sight. I eyed her milkshake, half-finished on the table, then took a sip. It was the second sweetest thing I've ever tasted. A ring of her lipstick remained on the end of the straw, or maybe it was cherry sauce. Either way it was a part of her and I wasn't going to wipe it away. I felt like I could be hers completely, and she would be mine.
I noticed that sometime while we'd been talking, Penny had folded her napkin into a small paper flower. It sat beside her empty plate, beautiful in its whiteness. I felt unspeakably proud.
I looked up as the door to Joe's Dinner was pushed open. The sounds of the wind, rain and traffic mingled to dampen the footsteps of the new arrival. It was a young man sporting an unkempt beard. He walked slightly hunched over, his arms wrapped around himself, pulling his duffel coat tightly. I saw a thin film of sweat on his skin despite the bitter cold. The door slammed shut behind him and somewhere in the back a bell stopped ringing.
The man half walked, half tripped his way over to the counter. I craned my neck to watch him. Something wasn't right.
"You, the fucking waitress," he slurred, nodding towards Barbie and reaching inside his jacket. His voice was clipped, British. I sensed breeding. He hadn't always been like this. "Gimme the cash, bitch."
From beneath his coat, the man pulled out a handgun. For some reason it reminded me of a mole, alien under the fluorescent lights of the diner.
Barbie opened her mouth to scream. The old fellow froze on his stool, half-turning towards the man with the gun.
"Don't fucking scream, you tubby cunt," the gunman grunted, as if speech itself was a huge effort. I could see boils on his skin. The man was sick.
Barbie clapped her hands to her mouth tightly. I could see her trembling even from where I was.
"Don't you move!" spat the gunman, pointing at me, but never taking his eyes off Barbie.
I watched, faintly amused despite myself.
I composed myself and spoke. "Listen, pal, stay calm. Nobody's going t
o make any sudden moves. Just stay calm. What's your name."
He was obviously a junkie or something, on a motherfucker of a comedown. Maybe I could use this to my advantage.
"Eddie," the man whispered. I could see him frowning with confusion. "Ah, oh God, get out of my head you fucker. Gimme the FUCKING CASH!"
Barbie stayed where she was.
"You think I'm fucking playing?" asked the gunman, waving his gun around erratically. "I'll fucking show you! The world's ending, man. It's everyone for themselves."
He turned to the old hobo. Raising the gun he brought the butt down on the hobo's head with a sickening thud. The hobo opened his mouth in a silent yell of surprise then toppled backwards off his perch, his head cracking against the diner's counter before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. I could see a pool of blood beginning to form around him. I could smell it, like copper and whiskey, the smell of someone who isn't ready to die.
If I'd been closer, maybe I could've used that opportunity to tackle the gunman. But I was over the other side of the diner, if I'd made a move then I'd never have reached him in time. And I preferred not to do anything compromising. I didn't think there'd be any danger, as long as he got the money. I could see that the hobo was still breathing shallowly and I could hear his heartbeat. He had a pacemaker, quite an old one at that.
I could hear the gunman's heartbeat too. There was no rhythm to it, no pattern. It was faster than could ever be healthy. I wondered if he'd possibly just drop dead.
He turned back to Barbie and opened his mouth, trying to force the words out. Whatever he'd taken was really kicking in.
Then I saw the door to the bathrooms opening. Penny stood framed in the doorway, directly on the gunman's right. She froze, but not until she'd stepped through, into the room
She didn't scream or make a sound. Even now, after all this time, I admire her so much for that. She didn't shout, didn't panic, she just froze.
Our eyes met over the almost-empty diner. I could see a weary, accepting look in her face, as if she knew what was about to happen. As if she'd been expecting it.
Time stood still. The gunman kept his gaze on Barbie. He hadn't noticed Penny.
The door behind her clicked shut.
The gunman spun around, the gun trembling in his clammy hand. His heartbeat was even more erratic now.
I saw his finger twitch. I saw Penny tense. Her beautiful brown eyes closed, waiting for that first explosion of gunpowder, the discharge of brass.
"Hey, motherfucker," I said, standing up. The gunman wheeled about, his attention off of Penny. I flicked my wrist and sent the salt pot in the shape of the North Tower flying towards the gunman. I'd palmed it without even thinking. The tower curved in flight and struck the gunman directly between the eyes, bouncing off his head. Blood started to trickle from where the sharp edge had hit him with some force.
"You..." was all he managed to say before his finger twitched and he fired the gun, still pointed at me.
Everything slowed. I saw the bullet traveling, heading straight for me. I didn't even try to move. My eyes met Penny's again. I could see a tear forming in the corner of her eye, slowly being born as the bullet traced a path through the air. Single bullet. One shot, everything changes.
It hit me in the throat with unexpected force, missing my windpipe by millimeters, piercing my carotid artery and passing through, every movement tearing apart muscle, ligament, chipping the bone of my skull as it curved upwards slightly, severing part of my spinal cord and finally exiting the back of my skull, burying itself in the wood of the window frame behind me. I heard a crash from somewhere nearby. Then, for a split second everything went black, and I saw it. I saw it all. I finally understood. It was something of a revelation, to be sure, but it all made sense. I opened my eyes, and smiled.
I didn't feel any pain. None at all. I stumbled back slightly under the force of the impact, and felt loose skin flapping at my throat. It felt very undignified, being shot in the neck in front of the woman I loved. I laughed. Blood gurgled up in my throat, spilling over my lips.
As you can probably understand, I was also fairly pissed at this point.
Penny's mouth was open wide in a noiseless scream. Again, I was proud of her. She was handling this rather well. I took a step forward.
The gunman just stared at me. His hand shook, the gun now pointed at the floor. He was frozen on the spot. I could already feel the wound at my throat beginning to close. I could taste gunpowder mixed with the vanilla milkshake. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant combination.
I braced myself as the bone at the back of my head began to knit itself together.
I took an third step. Penny was watching me, head cocked to one side, looking faintly amused. The gunman dropped the pistol and it skittered across the floor, coming to rest under a stool.
"You shot me," I stated pleasantly. "That wasn't exactly the nicest thing to do."
At the back of my mind (the part that hadn't been shot, I suppose) I felt regret at the fact that Penny had seen something like this so early on in our relationship. It would've been nice if I could've eased her in gently. Explained things before showing her things. But no such luck. Still, she didn't seem too fussed, all things considered.
I wasn't worried. I was angry, inconvenienced, recently shot, but not worried.
Over the gunman's shoulder I could see her smiling. I smiled back, my throat fully healed now.
"You shot me," I said again, more menacingly this time. "And shooting people is a sin."
"You threw the fucking World Trade Center at me…" he countered, as if that made us even. "I didn't mean to shoot you, man. I'm sorry."
"It was just one of the towers, actually," I corrected. "Be grateful for small mercies."
The man stood completely still. He shivered and raised his hands, palms out at the shoulders.
"Hey man…" he said as I took another step towards him.
"What's your name? Eddie, right?" I asked.
"Eddie, yeah..." he told me shamefully. "But I shot you, you're not fuckin' dead, you're okay, right?"
I nodded. "Lucky for you, I guess?"
"How?" he asked.
"Secrets," I told him. "A miserable little pile of secrets. But honestly, you've done me a favor You see, I understand now.
"I'm free. I haven't been forgiven, I'm just free. Because it's over. Everything's changed. You see, you haven't got it entirely right. I did die. For a split second back there, I died. And when I died, I went home. And I saw everything. The wreckage, the glorious ruination, the aftermath of a great battle. I surveyed Heaven's destruction, and in that split-second I realized the truth."
"What?" Eddie asked. His voice was a whisper. I looked around, pausing for dramatic effect. Barbie was nowhere to be seen. I could hear her heartbeat from behind the counter, shallow and calm. Fainted.
I stared at Eddie.
"God is dead."
"Oh," Eddie replied. "Sucks for him, I guess."
"Now, the question is, what do I do with you?" I pondered aloud. "I could rip you limb from limb, y'know. Slowly. I COULD, if I wanted to."
I took another step forward.
"That's not really my style though. I suppose I could make it quick. A bullet to the back of the head, you wouldn't feel a thing."
Eddie said nothing. He didn't move an inch. His eyes betrayed absolute terror. He believed every word. I was telling the truth, after all.
I took another step.
"But do you know what I usually do? Do you know what I've always done?"
Another step. Eddie shook his head quickly. I could smell the fear coming off him in waves.
"I could send you to Hell," I stated matter-of-factly. "I could send you there, where you would be judged. I could make you live out your worst nightmares, day in and day out for as long as I desired. Eternity, if I felt like it. With no respite, no redemption. I could have creatures you couldn't imagine stick hooks into your very soul. I could wrench every aspect o
f your existence into a hideous, deformed thing. I could bend you to my will. I could break you down to nothing then rebuild you to begin the suffering all over again. I could kill you in a thousand ways every night, only for you to be reborn the next day and die a thousand times over again. And again, and again. Forever and ever, Amen."
My eyes glowed with flame, embers dancing and burning, reflected in Eddie's own terrified stare. The faint smell of roasting flesh came from somewhere beneath the earth.
I took a final step forward. Our bodies were almost touching.
"I could do all of that, if I wished," I told him, and just as I had believed Penny earlier I knew that Eddie did not doubt a single word I said.
"I could do all of that and more, but today…" I leaned my head forward. Eddie winced. I kissed him on both cheeks, first his right and then his left, then took a step back.
"But today I forgive you. Because God is dead. Someone killed God." I laughed. "Do you know how fucking crazy that is? Someone killed the old bastard. I have no idea who, and I'm not sure I want to know. But we're free. I'm free, you're free. We're all free."
I smiled at him. And Eddie smiled back, a big stupid grin across his pale, sweaty face. He looked first at me and then towards the door.
"Thank you, man," he said. His voice was thick. He took a step towards the exit.
I rolled my eyes.
"Oh I'm not letting you go, you absolute idiot. You still tried to rob a diner and pistol-whipped a tramp."
I raised my hand and punched him hard on the jaw. He dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut and lay there, motionless. I knew he'd be out for ages, plenty of time for Barbie to regain consciousness and call the police.
I looked up from Eddie's prone form and straight at Penny. Her eyes were open wide, staring at me with an expression I couldn't read. For the first time ever, my heart skipped a beat.
She walked up to me, stepping over Eddie carefully. Then she just stood there, mere centimeters away, looking at me.
I wanted to say something, I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I was afraid. This girl, this beautiful, wonderful girl who I wanted to love me still, had made me afraid of something.
Fear. Doubt. Weakness. I truly was free.
It felt brilliant.
"Nietzsche?" Penny asked, after what seemed like ages. "Did you seriously quote Nietzsche? And you said I was scene..."
I didn't even bother to reply. I just pulled her towards me and kissed her, under the fluorescent spotlights of the diner, as a choir of angels, both favored and fallen, sang our names. Somewhere in the heavens fireworks went off, or maybe they were mortars.
Penny pressed herself closer to me as our lips worked in unison and somewhere deep under the earth I heard a rapturous applause. The perfect Hollywood ending in a diner on the outskirts of New York City.
Eventually I broke the embrace.
"I think we should go before Barbie wakes up," I said. "I think she'll be pleased that the two mystery patrons stopped the robbery and caught the bad guy, don't you?"
Penny nodded. "And I've always been told you were the bad guy."
I shrugged. "Smear campaign." It was true.
"I think we should put this somewhere safe," Penny said. She'd bent down and picked up Eddie's gun. She fiddled about with it for a second, pocketed something, then proudly held out the gun in pieces, expertly dismantled.
"How the Hell…" I asked.
She winked. "You're not the only one who can have secrets, mister."
"I love you," I said. "I want to be with you."
"Lets go then!" she exclaimed excitedly. "We've got a lot to look forward to."
"Yeah… you can cook me dinner when we get home," I told her, brushing her arm with my fingertips as she walked past and placed the broken gun on the counter for Barbie to find.
"We'll get take-out. Do you think we should leave a note or something?"
"Nah," I said. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I don't have a pen either."
Penny took her purse from her pants pocket, counted out $4.95 for the food and left it on the counter beside the firearm. She joined me and we linked arms, heading for the door.
"Hold on," I said, stopping. "There's just one thing…" I untangled my arm from hers and walked back to the counter. Reaching into my own pocket I took out a single coin. "We forgot to tip."
I went back over to her and we held hands as we walked to the door of the diner. I glanced back. I could hear Barbie's heartbeat going in a way that suggested she would soon wake up. The hobo was stirring on the floor. He'd wake up soon too.
"Do you think you should, y'know, go home at some point?" Penny asked. "You know. Up there. Find out what happened."
"Oh, I don't think so. It's not really my problem, is it? I was cast out. Not my business what they get up to any more."
"Aren't you even curious?"
I thought about this for a moment. I looked at Penny. I kissed her gently on the lips.
"No, not really," I said.
"Good," Penny replied. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."
Outside, it was still raining. The sky was dark. The storm was about to break.
XXI - Final Broadcast
