Elysium (5 page)

The smells of the city were strange — new — different. The faintest hint of fresh dung lingered from somewhere. Adrianne remembered that smell from when she was a kid and the neighbors spread manure on their vegetable garden. It was a sweet, stinky smell she found secretly pleasant. Maybe there was a horse-drawn carriage or a police horse nearby? But they were a bit far from the park where such things could be found. Her mind drifted as she sat across from Helen in an open-air cafe on the sidewalk, corralled by large potted plants and velvet ropes outside a restaurant with dining tables and flowers and menus and customers who ate and laughed and drank and smoked and were as carefree as she felt careworn.

“What are you having?” asked Helen.

“What?” said Adrianne.

“What are you going to order?”

The menu lay in front of her, ignored.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Adrianne said.

“Come now, don’t be so boring. Pick something for yourself. How about the soup?”

“Sure, the soup will be fine.”

She went back to searching the street for the source of the mysterious scent. Something rustled in the bushes across the street. She squinted into the leaves to see what was there. A pigeon? A sparrow? A rat? Helen was speaking. Adrianne heard the words but found herself mesmerized by a bird flying above. It circled around and around, dipping and coasting, disappearing behind the top of the building across the street, then reappearing to turn in a large O again. She had seen such strange things of late. Things she could hardly grasp and hold onto as real.

“Adrianne?”

“Hmm.”

“You okay, hon?”

“I’m fine.”

The soup arrived. She tasted it. It was warm and needed salt.

“How is the soup?”

“It’s good.”

“That’s what you needed, something warm in your stomach,” Helen said.

From the corner of Adrianne’s eye, movement. The creature in the bush rustled the leaves. Then a singular gust of wind from high above. The bird — a hawk? an owl? — graceful wings outstretched. Swooped down. Grabbed the mysterious thing out of the bush. A squeal? A screech? A scream? Then they were gone.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“That … over there.”

Helen glanced over. “What?”

“Never mind,” Adrianne said.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Adrianne forced a smile.

“We should hurry. The ride up to the stadium can be a bitch, but if we leave right after lunch, we should be there in time.” Helen said, touching Adrianne’s hand.

The stadium’s archways were tall enough to accommodate giants. They curved high above her head, creating a sense of awe that was surely the designer’s intent. Adrianne felt small against them, diminutive. She looked up and spun in place for a single turn as she took it all in. Her head continued to spin even after she stopped moving. Dizzy, out-of-place, insignificant. Helen grabbed her hand and pulled her into line, bouncing with tickets in hand as giddy as a child about to receive forbidden candy. She reached around and half-hugged Adrianne, rubbing her back. After a few moments of this, Adrianne took hold of Helen’s hand as if in affection, but really to still its movements.

They stood in the line for those who already had tickets, and still it was very long. There were a surprising number of women among the attendees. Maybe close to half of those waiting were casually dressed females, looking as if ready to go to the market, in mostly blue denim and T-shirts with cheery slogans spread across their chests. A few sported team colors. Some of the more flamboyant ones painted wide swatches of blue, red, and white makeup across their gleeful faces.

All was orderly for those long moments spent waiting. Then the crowd shifted position like a formless sea and parted. The crush of it pushed Adrianne aside, then moved her back. The swell eventually passed like a shifting tide. She searched for the cause and found it in a woman dressed in perfect white — a white linen summer dress, white sandals , and a white scarf wrapped around her head. A little man walked before her, easing people out of the way. She glided like a white shadow, her back straight and proud, and entered an archway that seemed reserved for her. Her little guardian minded her back as she entered.

Adrianne and Helen sat in seats only twenty rows from the oval space below. Thick glass separated the audience from the field and circled the stadium. Banners blaring team names fluttered in the wind in bold reds and blues and stripes of black bordered on white. The Ravens. The Tridents. The Vulcans.

On each side of the arena, jumbo screens displayed animated fireworks between the scrolling names of the players in the games. Booming through the loudspeakers, a squeaky, high-pitched voice sang over a raunchy dance beat. Then the music changed to a bombastic marching tune, and the doors on the sides of the field opened and a pair of horses ran free. Some cheered within the shuffles and murmurs and loud conversations of those still searching for their seats.

“Wait here, I’m going to get us some popcorn,” Helen said and left Adrianne alone to wonder what was in store for her this afternoon.

The sounds of the horses’ hooves jerked at her heart as they galloped wild with tremendous speed and power. The vibrations shook the glass walls. The scene was breathtaking. What was unclear, though, was what the horses were doing here. For that matter, what she was doing here? This was hardly her idea of fun. And why were so many women at this sporting event? She counted them, mentally sizing them up. How many were in need of cheer like her? How many were here to forget? Helen meant well, Adrianne thought as she watched the show, but she wanted to leave.

If Antoinette were here, they would have sneaked out together by now. They would have ended up at some café, drinking chai lattes, laughing while they thought up excuses for why they had left. That was the way she was. Antoinette would never have stayed somewhere she didn’t want to be. She always said that Adrianne was too soft and should assert herself more. Tears rolled down Adrianne’s cheeks before she could wipe them away.

Men in orange jumpsuits drove onto the field in golf carts, rounding the horses back into the doors from where they came. Helen returned with a large tub of popcorn and maneuvered inelegantly through seats partially filled with other spectators. She plopped herself down next to Adrianne, shoving the tub into Adrianne’s arms. Adrianne returned it with a wave that said she didn’t want any.

“I didn’t let them put too much butter on it,” Helen said and munched happily on a couple of kernels.

“No thanks,” Adrianne said.

A display of women dressed in white, taking their seats in a skybox, came onto the giant screens. Adrianne could almost make out their tiny white shapes, moving in the distance.

“Who are they?” Adrianne asked.

“Them?” Helen said. “They help officiate. You’ll see.”

All four jumbo screens now showed the oversized face of a smiling, squinty-eyed man with a lipless grin. He waved energetically to a barely acknowledging crowd.

“His majesty the mayor has gotten off his high horse and is here today,” Helen said, “God, I can’t stand that guy. He’ll never get my vote again.”

“Helen,” Adrianne said, “I think I want to go home.”

“What? We just got here,” Helen said, dipping into the popcorn.

“Yeah, but …”

“Hey, they’re about to start.”

A side door opened and a sizable elk trotted onto the field of artificial green. Its tall head of antlers spread wide and pointed in all directions. It pranced about, clearly stunned. Adrianne had a nasty, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It soured still more when another door opened. Something from the darkness growled angrily, then snarled. All went quiet. The elk stood stock-still. A large cat sprang out, maybe a mountain lion. It eyed the elk and ducked low, slowed its motion to small graceful steps. Adrianne wanted to yell to the elk to run. Instead she remained frozen in her seat. Her mouth went dry and her heart pounded. With incredible speed and to the cheers of the enthusiastic crowd, the cat pounced. The elk galloped, but the lion was too quick. It pulled down the elk with its mighty paws. The audience jumped to its feet and applauded wildly.

Adrianne screamed.

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Adrianne’s brown skin contrasted with the white linen of her chemise and the matching veil draped about her head that tied snugly under her chin. She had a perfect view of the stadium from the luxury box. Two large flat-screened televisions displayed up-close images of the carnage below. Several other women dressed in white sat in rows around her as if in a small movie theater. They had been lightly applauding at the image of the bloodied carcass of an elk, but all stopped to stare at Adrianne.

“Come on, Adrianne, it wasn’t
that
bad,” Helen said with popcorn in her mouth. “You better calm down. Mother is watching.” And indeed she was. A stern older woman several seats back — her jaws set so tight that they protruded through her cheeks — was staring down.

“She hasn’t been feeling well,” Helen said to the others. The ladies nodded and returned to their murmuring.

“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for me to come out today,” Adrianne said as she wiped her moistened eyes. She put her hands in the inner pockets of her stola. A little man descended the stairs and presented a tray of Champagne glasses. She refused. Another server offered her a tray of finger sandwiches. She waved him away, and he stepped back without hesitation.

“I want to go home,” Adrianne said.

“But it’s just started. At least wait until halftime. …”

“No, I think I should go home now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Adrianne held back a sniffle.

“Okay, well, let’s go home then.”

“No, you stay and enjoy the rest of this. Thomas will see me home.”

Thomas escorted her out of the stadium. He was a muscular man and would protect Adrianne with his life. He would never attempt to touch her, though. He was of the kind that loved other men.

Thomas commandeered a cab. A man in a business suit wanted it (and deserved it because he had actually been there first). He was about to argue with Thomas when Adrianne appeared. Her white robes hemmed in delicate purple flowed in the afternoon breeze like a sail. Business Suit backed away as Thomas held open the door for her.

The yellow cab smelled of stale cigarettes and sweat. Adrianne pressed the button to open the window. Thomas gave the cabbie directions, and they were off. During the ride she concentrated on the speeding road, her mind adrift in her sorrow. Thomas touched her hand. She turned to face him, and a drop escaped her eye. She folded into his chest. He held her there. No words. Just sorrow.

“I take it you didn’t like the games.”

Adrianne laughed through her sniffles.

“No, I didn’t,” she said.

“People expect you to like it.”