Authors: Matthew Crow
The funny thing was we’d only ever spend a few hours in our rented suites. We’d order enough food to feed a small army. Unravel in the bathtub as bubbles popped and tickled our ears.
And then return, rested and replenished, before the dusk had so much as a chance to settle.
“We hope you enjoyed your stay ladies, and look forward to seeing you again.”
In those strange, halcyon days with Eve I got to know her as well as I’ve ever known anyone. For a girl who went to such lengths to appear open she was surprisingly full
of her own troubles, which she doled out in manageable chunks. Her lovers’ names were relayed like a nursery rhyme. Give her a drink and she could work her way through the alphabet twice over
without ever having to pause for thought. But her life before that was as cloudy as a poem and not nearly as lyrical. From what I gather her parents had been as neglectful as two people can be
without input from various authorities.
‘It was no hardship, though,’ she’d tell me, combing her hair in the giant orb of the mirror in the presidential suite. ‘They had their lives and I had mine. It worked
just fine for all involved. I guess you could say it did me good. One thing’s for sure, I’m all my own invention. Never had no-one tell me what to do from day one. If anything I’m
more myself than those kids whose backgrounds were peeled straight off a Christmas card.’
I found glamour in the poverty of her upbringing; the scavenging for food; the endless days and nights when her whereabouts was not once called into question. I myself experienced no such
hardship. I neither went without nor grew to expect life handed to me on a plate. Jealous, too, that she seemed to know her own mind so well. Eve
was
her own creation, right down to the
bone. Whereas I suppose I always felt like somewhere along the way my character became consumed by the rest of the world, like I was translucent, taking on any hue that shone my way. I was a mousy
child. Round faced and long limbed, with a shyness that bordered on chronic when faced with strangers. Pretty, I suppose, if I ever thought to make anything of myself, though I seldom did. It was
like I’d been made just that little bit too diluted, in my mind at least. As a result I began to take on scraps of others as if to make myself whole, to calcify what I had into something
resembling a personality. Not in a sinister way of course. I’d affect an accent I picked up from the more exotic girls at school, or declare undying love for the preferred foodstuff my
favourite cartoon characters. Only on occasion would it grow to extremes. One summer I was hospitalised and observed by the finest psychiatrists my mother could find when I limited my intake solely
to chocolate chip cookies and root beer. And there was a minor furore when I took not just the hairstyle, but the boyfriend of my high school best friend.
On the whole it was harmless, though. In truth I still feel myself doing it. With Eve, with J, even with you. Somewhere between introduction and maintenance of any relationship I feel myself
altering to the rhythms of my chosen other. My speech shifts in its pattern. My manner morphed so slightly it would be unnoticeable to anyone but me. Stripped to the essentials I suppose I’m
little more than a collage of each and every person I’ve ever come across in my life; I paste on their attributes, good or bad, until I begin to fit the mould. Of course the problem comes
when alone and not always so sure as to how I ought to act. What would X do... I find myself thinking, in supermarket lines when I realise my wallet’s back at the trailer, or when answering
the door to bible salesmen. Eve had no such issues. She was herself and could be nothing else. All I can hope is that a little part of her lives on in me, whether she knows it or not. The world was
a better place with her in it. Or my world was, at very least.
As we continued spending like sailors on shore leave Eve’s presence at The Iguana Den became less and less.
“You sure you don’t want to come? Even just to watch?” I said halfway to the car, thirty minutes late and appropriately harangued.
“Maybe tomorrow,” she said, unfolding the sheets of paper with ink stained hands. “What do you think of these lonely hearts ads? You think they ever lead to real
love?”
“I think you’ve had dumber ideas, in the grand scheme. Why won’t you come?”
“I’m just nervous is all,” she said, reaching for the bottle.
“Eve, those boys were going to come after you they’d have done it by now.”
“You don’t know them. These boys are real rattlesnakes. They’ll sit and wait until you’re in licking distance. That’s when they strike.”
“I think you’re thinking too much about this. The hard part’s over. Now it’s just up to us to enjoy the aftermath.”
“Well I’m taking no chances. I want you to pack that pistol. And come straight back home afterwards.”
“I promise. See you in the morning.”
Eve nodded though did not respond.
That night J was in the audience. This I did not realise until I was up on stage, half blind by the lighting and suddenly aware of the owl’s eyes that twinkled in the
darkness.
He sat on a table with Kingpin, I noticed. Kingpin was not what you’d call the most welcoming of hosts. Nor was he the type to encourage spontaneous guests. This seemed to pose little
issue to J. The pair sat quietly, as both were inclined to do, occasionally whispering to one another. Kingpin’s eyes remained glued to the stage. J was edgier than I’d seen him before.
His eyes scanned the room like he was searching for a needle in a haystack. It was as the sound of the crowd dipped and the music rose that each and every piece of the puzzle began to fit into
place, and I felt my two lives collide into one another with such a violent jolt that both were irrevocably damaged. Those long nights, the gilded ache of courtship, that sweet, handsome face and
the future that existed only in my head... it had all been a lie. He was here for Eve. Proof was redundant. You’ve said it yourself Jonah – some things you simply know.
I felt my heart break on that stage and it is yet to be fully fixed. Lust does terrible things to you Jonah, and love? Love eats you alive and tells you it’s what you wanted.
I snake my way to the centre of the stage. All I know is that I have to move and I have to make it believable. The rest will fall into place, of that I am sure. But for now I
have to perform and I have to do so for my life.
The music rises and I know it’s now or never.
He watches me as I wind down the silver pole; my knees scraping into ugly marks that no-one can see through the blue haze. J sits back in his chair and pulls his hat over his eyes as I pour wax
down my body. It stings, but only for a second.
What feels like only seconds later, I make my way from the stage to the sound of their applause. The noise heartens me, but deep down I remain forlorn that I was unable to clock J’s exact reaction.
In the dressing room Miss Jemima flounces over to me and I allow her to kiss me on the cheek. “Darling, you did it again!”
I grab my belongings as quickly as possible. “I have to go.”
“What in the world is wrong? Here, sit down,” she says, pulling a cushioned chair from beneath the laced derriere of one of the new girls.
“No,” I say, wrapping my coat around me. My eyes beginning to water, my voice breaking. “I got to go. I’m so sorry Jemima, I don’t know what’s come over
me.”
“Girls like you know exactly what’s wrong. You just think it’s impolite to say as much. I’m right, aren’t I?” By this point she has taken my arm gently and
led me into an abandoned corridor through which the noise of the crowd plays out like a scream underwater. “You’re ever in trouble you know I can help.”
“I know,” I say, wiping all traces of emotion from my eyes. “I know and thank you, but I really think I just need to go home. Eve’s still sick and, well... ”
“Darling there’s nothing in this life worth ruining your make-up for,” Miss Jemima coos, touching the edge of my eye with her embossed handkerchief. “And you know where I
am, ever you need me. We take good care of our girls here. Good care.”
I nod and kiss her once on the cheek. “Thank you.”
And with that I am gone.
Outside a breeze picks up and the dancing sands stick to the oil on my legs. A hand touches my shoulder as I reach the car. “Come back to my place,” he says,
sheepishly, as though he had never been with a woman before.
I contemplate killing him. I swear to God, Jonah, the thought crossed my mind and lasted longer than it should in any sane woman. The gun’s cold weight presses heavily
against my thigh and I feel my hand stroking its outline. That would have solved our problems, though I suppose it would have been as useful as covering house mess with a filthy sheet.
I also want him to fuck me. To tell me he loves me too, that for all the wrong he’s done, for all the lies he’s told, he’s found himself drawn to me like no other girl he ever
met. I feel frightened and for the first time in my life I know how it feels to truly hate myself.
“J,” I say as casually as ever, opening the car door. “What in the world is a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?”
“Just following a hot lead. Good friend of mine recommended the establishment. I think it’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Well now you’ve found it I’d hate to distract you. You take care now.”
“What’s this?” he grabs my arm, gently, but with a strength that suggests I may need backup if I decide to elaborate on any notions of murder I might have had. “You spend
weeks and weeks teasing me, now I get the cold shoulder. God damn it, Verity, I don’t know you at all, do I?”
“It’s late, is all,” I say, trying my hardest to ease my arm from his grip without him noticing. “And I’m sure you’ll attest to my claims of a strenuous
evening. These legs don’t dance themselves.”
“You looked real beautiful up there tonight.”
“Thank you, you are sweet.”
“So quit fooling. Come on back to my place. Let’s finish what we started.”
“I think I’ve had quite enough excitement for one night. Besides, I like my epics long and drawn out. I’m afraid I’ll need a little more wooing before we get to that
part.”
“Not what you said last time.”
“People change.”
“I think I got me a lead as to where my money went.”
“Your Daddy’s money.”
He shrugs. “Think I might pay a visit tonight. If that’s the case you might never see me again.”
At this my heart became a caged beast, thrashing against its enclosure. Whether it was the truth or a line he’d feed a girl to see her insides I don’t know, but it was not a chance I
was going to take.
“Well,” I said, suddenly melting into his touch. “If that’s the case then the least I owe you is five minutes of my time. Why don’t you get in the car, we can have
us a talk.”
He looks around at the empty lot, and the endless desert in every direction.
“I got a quart of whisky and a radio that almost works,” I add. “Don’t know if that’d sweeten the deal.”
J nods and gets into the passenger seat of my car. We sit for a moment and he leans in to kiss me. I let him and do everything I can not to enjoy it.
“So,” I say as he returns to his side of the car. “You think you found what you’re looking for?”
J lights a cigarette and the smoke’s thick plumes begin to hurt my eyes. “Why?” he asks, cracking the window open and flicking ash onto the dirt below. “You think you
know something that’ll help me?”
“We’re not paid to talk in that place. Nor to listen. Unless Ida has a suitcase full of dollars somewhere I don’t think I’m the girl to help.”
J drops his cigarette. His hand curls around my neck and he pulls my face towards his, then presses down until my forehead is resting on his upper thigh. I run my hand up around his leg as he
unzips his flies. Above his waist I feel the handle of a gun pressing against my head. As I jerk back and forth, working to the sound of his growl - deep and assured, like a Harley trailing the
sidewalk - I wonder whether my stealth would outweigh his brawn.
But, alas, it was not meant to be. By the time I sit back and he is buttoning himself up, shuffling in his seat, any chance of atonement on behalf of Eve is momentarily gone.
“I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“I’m just another girl in just another town. We’re ten a penny. You’d have found someone.”
“Now I know that’s not true. Come on,” he says, with a note of urgency previously absent from his voice. “Come back to my place. We can talk. It’ll be nice. No
menus.”
“No strobe lights,” I say, patching my lipstick in the car’s mirror.
“I’d like you to. I want to talk to you properly. I got things to say.”
“Well,” I try, slipping the keys into the ignition. “I’m not so sure I wish to be associated with a man who frequents such establishments.”
I laugh. He does not.
“God damn it, Verity, what’s the fucking problem? We’ve been circling this same patch for weeks on end now. You’re hotter than a dog on heat one minute, next thing
you’re some God damn ice queen. You scared of something?”
“I’m scared of nothing.”
“Well then there’s no harm in it, is there? You can come and have a drink with me.”
“And I could marry my first cousin, but I won’t,” I turn the key. The ignition kicks in and J steps out of the car to the sound of mechanical coughing.
“To be continued,” he says over the clunk of a weary engine. He watches me as I flicker and blend into darkness.
I pulled over not too far from the trailer park. I dipped the lights and silenced the engine, and then, only then, did I hold my head in my hands and cry.
I’m not entirely sure what I wept for. For a broken heart, I suppose. For a whole lifetime over before it had even begun. It seems heartless now to admit such sorrow in the face of what
was to come, but I felt a loss at my future that never was. I cried, too, at the thought of change. For the first time I could remember things had been not just bearable but enjoyable. It felt
strange, then, knowing as I drove onto the gravel, watching the car’s lights flash and dip on my front door, that we would be leaving so soon, never to return again. But no-one ever said life
was linear Jonah. It changes, whether you like it or not. All you can do is follow the current and hope you don’t get swept under forever.