Miranda (31 page)

“She admitted that Eliezer knew, that she would take him along, that sometimes she would leave him in the bathroom of the hotel room where she would have sex with Paul, and that he would hear her moan but not say anything about it.

“I never thought that I, Norman Clausell, was capable of doing what I had done. I never thought that I’d allow myself to be consumed with rage. I never thought that, from one moment to the next, I could become another person, a person who, to this day, I detest.

“I lost control. I lost my mind. I responded to her beating and mistreatment. I unleashed my fury against her. How could she have committed such an atrocity on our innocent son? How could she? How?

“So, while beating her, I paused to look at the body of the woman who had fallen to the floor. That’s how I noticed that my little Eliezer was there, in the doorway, clutching his plush toy truck to his chest, crying in silence, looking at a scene that would never, ever leave his mind.

“I still haven’t forgotten the terror that had torn apart his little face. I still can’t forget the horror and the disappointment. I can’t forget it to this day. I still haven’t forgiven myself. I still hate myself.

“Eliezer is very screwed up, I know. I murdered his goodness. I turned him into a different person. I, who was the closest he had to a hero, crushed his innocence and his potential.

“Isabel didn’t turn me in. We both had much to lose. We came to an agreement that benefited her more than it did me. She would leave and would take our child with her so that I would have no contact with him, at least until he reached adulthood. Before leaving, she said that she wouldn’t be seeing Paul anymore, and that he was only a plaything anyway, and that there were many other playthings to be had in the world.

“That’s how I had sacrificed my relationship with my son for… for my company and money in my pocket! I don’t want you to make the wrong decision. You would be making my mistake, and carrying that burden isn’t living… it’s hell. I beg you, please, forgive me for having been a monster, and I beg you, also, to speak with Eliezer.

“He is everything you say he is, but also, very deep down, he has a good heart. The little that I know about him confirms that he’ll be a much better father than I was, and if the relationship between you develops, a great companion.

“Trust in me, his father… your father who loves you with all my soul…”

I would find the cause of my misery in his office. It wasn’t an appropriate place to broach the conversation; nevertheless, during the last few weeks, there had been no ideal place for us to speak, for us to be ourselves.

It was late at night. His car was the only one in the parking lot. I entered the office stealthily. Even though I would have wanted to make noise, I didn’t have the strength to open the door with my usual brusqueness. I carried a heavy heart.

From the doorway, I saw him look over a few documents and crumple them in his hand. He had his back to me, attending to a call on his cell phone.

“That won’t be a problem, I already told them… No, she has no fucking idea… No! Not her… but what are they saying? Norman no longer poses any risk, nor does he suspect. I told you, no! We’ve come to an agreement and we’ll do it. I said so!”

He hung up. He turned around and threw the papers and the phone on the desk. I took a few steps forward and he lifted his head.

“What agreement are you talking about, my dear Clausell?”

His eyes dilated and he quickly took control of his reaction.

Well, well… if this painter hasn’t suddenly become an actor.

“What are you doing here, Miranda?” He looked at his wristwatch. I knew that he wanted to know what I had managed to hear.

“Eavesdropping. What else?” I answered, with a tone that was sarcastic and absurd like my life had been since the day I bumped into him. He relaxed his shoulders. I supposed that he found a way of managing the situation.

“What’s wrong with you, Wise?”

“What agreement were you talking about, Clausell?” I walked up to his desk.

“Nothing of importance.” He brushed his head with his hands. “Are you ok? Do you feel better?”

“Social protocol demands that I answer your question in the affirmative. But no, Eliezer, I’m not well, and I certainly don’t feel better.”

There was a strange brilliance in his eyes. He emerged from the space behind his desk and came up to me. He put his hands on my shoulders. The weight of his demons sunk me in his hell. I moved my shoulders so that he would remove himself because I didn’t want him to touch me. He withdrew his hands, he was a bit confused by my indifference.

“If you don’t tell me what’s making you like this, I can’t help you.”

I pressed my index finger against his forehead.

“You’ve made me like this, Eliezer. I don’t know what’s going on with you. I’m fed up with trying to decipher your thoughts. I’m tired of wanting to understand you.”

My provocation didn’t please him. If I had done this on the day we first met, I surely would have had my arm twisted and broken. He tensed his jaw enough to make it pop.

“Do you notice? Every expression of yours confirms that there’s something more behind that face. This didn’t begin well. Even so, I demand to know the truth. I’m prepared to hear what you have to say–the secrets that you have to reveal.” I paused for a moment to reassure myself that I really wanted to say what I wanted to say. “I’m prepared, Clausell, for us to deal with and overcome that which divides us.”

He took my hands in his.

“Miranda, I don’t believe that now is the time for…”

“God damn it, Clausell! It’s never the time! You know what? Us. That wasn’t supposed to happen. That was the only bad time. It never should have been the fucking time. If you like, I’ll start the explanation.” He leaned back. “Miranda Wise, an orphan with a flawless life, living a lie, and stupidly in love with you.”

Eliezer closed his eyes. I pushed him. I wanted him to look at me. I wanted him to see what he had destroyed.

“Miranda Wise was living a perfect and boringly happy life until she made the big mistake to not adhere to professional boundaries.”

He was clothed in guilt. I could see it in his eyes. I sat down, and suddenly, I could understand the weight that he was carrying. What I couldn’t understand was the reason for it. We were independent and free adults. What could be coming between us?

I wanted to give him the opportunity of freeing his soul so we could begin on a clean slate and paint our story anew… in another way. I needed to make him open up to me. That way, I could help him. Only that way could we help ourselves.

“Tell me, Eliezer: who are you?” His silence answered me. “Fine, it seems like I’m the one who wants to talk today. Would you forget about everything and everyone else for me?”

That was the key question. I needed an answer. I needed to know how far he would go for me. His eyes became watery. Was that a sign of pain? Why wouldn’t he cough up what was making him choke. Why wouldn’t he say anything?

“God damn it, Eliezer! It’s so simple. Choose between two words. They’re only two damned words: yes, or no.”

Eliezer leaned back. He rubbed his hair and his face in frustration.

“It’s not so simple, Miranda. Please, stop talking. Let’s drop this now. We’ll talk tomorrow. Today isn’t the day. Now is not the time. Trust me. Please.”

I closed in on him and pressed my finger against his forehead again. My voice cracked as I spoke.

“That’s the problem. Unless we’re rolling around in bed, I can’t trust you. I don’t want to trust you, because I don’t know who you are.”

Eliezer removed my finger from his forehead. He took the opportunity to touch me, to slide his arms onto me, and trap me in an embrace.

“I know, Miranda. I know.” He kissed me on my forehead. “Go home. Take a shower. Watch a movie. Calm down. Don’t think about me. Don’t think about us.”

I removed myself from his embrace and wiped my tears.

“I gave you a chance. Only remember that I was the one who gave you that opportunity. Remember, always, that I was the one who gave us that opportunity. Tomorrow… tomorrow it’ll be too late.”

I made my decision that very instant. I would let both of the men whom I most loved in my life go: Norman, the father who hadn’t abandoned me; and Eliezer, who had done who knows what for me. No, I wouldn’t bring a child into this world who, ultimately, would be just as unhappy as those two. After all, Eliezer would agree: why bring more unhappy people into this world? I walked toward the door. I crossed the threshold and his voice made me pause.

“That’s how you’re leaving? That’s how you’re going to leave everything?”

I turned around and gave him a goodbye sigh.

“That’s how I’m leaving, and that’s how I’m leaving things. You’re right. It’s time to go home. I already know what it’s like to be in hell.”

***

My tears governed the route I took, not the lights nor the traffic signals.
How could I tell him that I’m expecting his baby?
No, that decision was mine and no one else’s. Whatever it is, I would make it for me… only for me… and for the good of that… baby.

I opened the garage door, and parked the car. The ceiling light that turns on automatically when the door opens didn’t work. I left the garage door partially open so that I would have some light when opening the door to the house.

Goosebumps… I heard someone else’s breathing. In less than a second, I imagined Eliezer on his knees, saying ‘yes,’ boldly and clearly, but that was too much imagination for such a dark fairy tale. A hand covered my mouth and another restrained my hands. A shadow opened the door and suddenly my whole body flew up into the air. Someone threw me inside the house. My head cracked when it hit the concrete. Was it the floor or a wall? My eyesight darkened, a thick, dark liquid poured out of my forehead… dizziness… nausea… confusion.
What is this? What is going on? Please, someone help me!
Screaming overtook my thoughts because I couldn’t manage to vocalize words.

Three men were attacking me… hitting and kicking. I managed to protect my abdomen by assuming a fetal position. I don’t know why, just then, that was the only part of my body that mattered to me.

The light from the street lamps filtered through the curtains, forming the silhouettes of my attackers. Their faces were covered with black masks. One of them threw himself on me. He let his weight fall on my hips, immobilizing my legs. The second attacker restrained my hands again while a chunkier third bound them with tape, and wrapped another piece around my head and over my mouth. Then with a yank, he ripped the buttons off my blouse and, with a knife, cut through the bra I was wearing.

Intrusive hands squeezed my breasts and then moved to my pants. The man had no compassion for me. With a knife at my throat, he forced me to spread my legs, and he put his hand in my crotch. He hurt me. He squeezed mercilessly. Then one of the others pushed him aside. As soon as I could, I struggled to my feet, but then a kick sent me to the other side of the room. I fell face down. I stayed quiet. My eyes closed, I could imagine them gloating over me and relishing their next move. I wanted to die until I had a moment of lucidity. Although I had a gun in my purse, I had no idea where it was now, but I remembered I also kept one in my bedroom.

If only I could get there…

Their pause gave me a chance to stand up and run toward the bedroom while working my sweat soaked hands out of the tape that bound them. I just managed to get my hands free to tear the tape off my mouth when, halfway there, one of them managed to grab me by the hair. They put me up against the wall, took off my pants, and tore off my underwear.

“Kill her!” the one who was holding me impatiently ordered.

“No, not yet!” the other one said.

I heard the sound of a zipper opening.

God help me. Help me or let them kill me once and for all!

“Kill her! Quit being a jerk, and kill her!”

“No! She’s too good to throw away!”

The wretch rubbed his disgusting penis against my vagina, looking for a way in. The moist taste of blood coming from my forehead and dripping into my mouth made me feel even more nauseous. Although they had me pinned against the wall, one hand was free enough to put two fingers as far as I could into my mouth.

My vomit shot out. The man that had me pinned threw me to the floor. The one who was watching stepped back so his shoes wouldn’t get dirty. The last one, the one who wanted to invade my body, kicked me in the face. I rolled over onto something lumpy and turned over. It was my purse.

“I told you, asshole! I told you!” one of them repeated.

“Kill her already!” The other one said.

I took advantage of the discussion to try to open my purse. My hands were shaking.
Hurry up, Miranda. Hurry up…

The shadow of one of the men hovered over me.

“Come here, bitch!”

The deafening sound of the shot shook the house. The evil bastard fell to the floor. The other son of a bitch shot at me twice but then stopped. Apparently his gun had jammed, so he and the third one ran, disappearing into the shadows. The gun fell out of my hands. My breath became short. Then there was silence and a brilliant darkness. It seemed like an eternity went by…