“She sure was… I wish I’d gotten to know her better,” said Jay. “She was like the nice grandmother I never had.”
Charles looked down at the suitcases.
“Her teddy bears?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Jay. “We knew she wouldn’t have wanted them thrown away.”
“That was very kind of you, Jay.”
“Thanks,” said Jay. He paused. “Well, be seeing you, Charles.”
“See you soon.”
We walked off towards the elevators. I turned back to Charles and saluted him.
Jay passed out on the couch almost immediately after getting back to the room.
I sat in the Jacuzzi for a few hours, drinking wine, and thinking of Miss Nancy and her husband. A strong, successful, smart woman who could have easily gone it on her own, but who loved her husband so much that she enveloped herself in a fantasy world when he died. Could someone have helped her, have guided her out of that abyss? Maybe Charles, if he hadn’t been all fucked up himself at the time.
My drunken ruminations turned to Lisa, and about all I’d learned of her grim past. Maybe she was too damaged to be in a normal relationship. Sounded like a life with her would be a constant struggle, always fighting her demons. Was that something I’d be willing to put up with? Living with someone always on the edge of a breakdown?
“Nah, fuck that,” I said to myself. “Too many fish in the sea.”
I honestly believed it’d be that easy to let her go….
Jay and I maintained our life of decadence for a while longer, sitting on the balcony with Bill the Lizard for days on end, visiting the parks when the fancy struck us, and gorging ourselves at the Concierge Lounge every night, much to Semi-Hot Sandra’s dismay. Jay really was an ideal roommate, aside from the snoring. He kept the place clean and didn’t complain about anything, which was cool. And it was fun to have a friend around to do stuff with.
But every once in a while he had flashes of extremely odd behavior that would make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
One time, for example, we were walking the trail between The Beach Club and EPCOT Center, when a cottonmouth snake slithered across the sidewalk. It stopped and hissed at us.
“Step back slowly, Jay,” I said. “We’ll backtrack and report it to a Cast Member.”
But he didn’t step back. Instead he snatched it up by its head and turned the snake to face him.
“What the fuck, Jay?! Holy shit, put the goddamned snake down you crazy bastard!”
“I’ve done this before,” he said.
The hand not holding the head choked up on the cottonmouth’s body until it was a few inches below the other hand. The snake’s tail thrashed, but Jay held it tight. He quickly twisted both hands, and the snake went limp. He threw it into the brush.
I felt sick.
“Jay, goddammit! You fucking asshole! Why’d you have to do that?”
“That snake was a killer, Blaine,” he said, completely expressionless.
“Well, now so are you, you son of a bitch,” I replied. “It wasn’t going to do anything to us! All we had to do was walk away.”
“I saved us,” he said, with the same flat affect as before.
I got right up into his face.
“Jay, if you ever kill any living being while I’m around, you’re gone. You’re out of my room. No shit, Jay. I’ve seen enough death for a lifetime.”
And then it was like something switched back on and he was his normal self again, and the snake thing hadn’t happened at all.
“Sure, Blaine, whatever you say,” he said. He smiled and continued down the path.
Freaky.
A few nights later I was woken by yelling coming from the other room. It sounded like a long stream of curse words. “Fuck you, you fucking cunt whore!” and crazy shit like that. But when I walked into the living room Jay was sleeping soundly.
Creepy.
And then there was the time I noticed him masturbating while watching
The Shawshank Redemption
. Don’t really need to say anything else about that one.
Dude was all sorts of fucked up. But I was still too trusting and naïve to worry much about it. I kept bugging him to go to therapy, and he’d always say, “Yeah, sure, I’ll go. Make me an appointment.” Then I’d make him an appointment and he’d find some excuse not to go. Eventually I stopped trying.
I should have kicked the son of a bitch out of my room. I guess that probably wouldn’t have changed anything, though.
His odd behavior was starting to get to me a bit, so I decided to strike out on my own for the day. Figured I’d stroll around EPCOT Center, have a few drinks, and just enjoy the weather.
“I’m heading over to EPCOT Center, Jay!” I yelled from the entryway as I opened the door.
“You want me to come with you?” he asked.
“Nah, I’m cool,” I said, quickly shutting the door.
I stepped out of the hotel into what was probably the nicest weather since I’d been there. Crystal clear sky, temperature just warm enough not to need a jacket, and a slight breeze. I could smell the funnel cakes on The BoardWalk over top of the swamp smell. I walked down my usual path to EPCOT Center and thought of the cottonmouth Jay had killed. What kind of person kills a snake with their bare hands? I shook my head, determined not to wallow in negativity today. It was too nice outside, and I was in too good a mood, despite Jay’s recent bouts of crazy.
Reaching the end of path, I smelled the funnel cakes again. I wasn’t sure I’d ever eaten one, but if they tasted halfway as good as they smelled…. I strolled slowly down The BoardWalk to the funnel cake kiosk and ordered one with powdered sugar, vanilla ice cream, and chocolate syrup. Probably more calories on a single plate than I needed for the entire day. But one good thing about walking around the parks all day, every day, was that I hadn’t gained any weight, despite my less than stellar diet of Concierge Lounge food and large amounts of booze.
The first bite of the funnel cake was heavenly. But then the wind coming off the lake started blowing powdered sugar all over the place, so I went and sat down at a table outside of the bakery. I sat there for a while, trying to eat it without making a total fucking mess. It wasn’t working. The powdered sugar was everywhere. It was on my face, in my hair, and all over my shirt, a vintage black EPCOT Center number which was now dotted with blotches of white. Fuck. But it was so good. I kept eating.
A familiar-looking couple walked past. I couldn’t figure out who it was at first, but then it hit me: she wasn’t carrying the towel.
“Michael! Belinda!” I shouted, waving to them. A gust of wind blew the powdered sugar from the now funnel-cake-free plate all over my shirt.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled, as they walked over to me, laughing.
“Quite a mess you’re making there, Blaine,” said Michael.
“Yeah, man. I’d shake your hand, but mine is covered in powdered sugar.”
They sat down at my table as I walked to the nearest trash can and threw away the plate. I walked back, flicking at my shirt, trying to get all of the white blotches off of it.
Sitting down, I smiled at both of them. They looked happy.
“So how have you two been doing?” I asked.
“You have a big piece of powdered sugar right there,” said Belinda.
“Where?”
“Here, let me get it,” she said, licking a napkin and wiping my face.
“Belinda!” shouted Michael.
“Oh!” said Belinda, pulling back, embarrassed. “Always playing the mother, I guess!” she said.
“It’s okay,” I said. “So… how have things been?”
Michael pointed to Belinda’s stomach. “Somebody is preggers!”
“No shit!” I said. “Congratulations!”
“I’m three months along,” she said. She grabbed his hand and they kissed each other.
“That’s awesome,” I said. “Good for you.”
“So, what about you?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing too exciting. Been keeping busy at the parks. Relaxing, enjoying the weather.”
“We heard through the grapevine that Jay is staying with you?”
“Yep, yep, that is true. He’s been sleeping on my couch for a few weeks now. Just until he gets back on his feet. I’m sure you guys know all about the problems he had with his… uh, supplier.”
“Best thing that ever happened to us,” said Michael.
“Seriously?”
“It’s true, Blaine,” said Belinda. “Otherwise I’m not sure I would’ve been able to get off of it. And I had to get off it! The second I found out about the pregnancy I knew I had to stop. I couldn’t be a good mother on that stuff, and I had no idea what it was doing to my baby. Plus, it was killing our marriage. Every time it would wear off, I’d start to feel like Michael hated me. I just assumed he blamed me for our baby dying, and on top of that I felt so guilty for making him deal with all of the… towel stuff. I knew I was being crazy, but it was easier to hold the towel, feel guilty, and take The Dust than go through a normal grieving process.
“Anyway, dealing with all of that, on top of the withdrawal symptoms, was horrendous. If Jay had still been selling it… I think the temptation would have been too much.”
“But you kicked it,” I said, “and you look great!”
And she did. She was full of color, smiling, and seemed twenty years younger than the last time I’d seen her. And she wasn’t being a total crazy bitch. I started to understand what Michael saw in her.
“I couldn’t have done it without the love of my life,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Knowing he was there for me, and seeing how he loved me so much, and how he took care of me through all of it without complaining…. It brought us a lot closer together.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s amazing. Really. Congratulations, you two.”
I paused, and shuffled in my seat.
“So, um, have either of you heard anything from Lisa?” I asked.
“Funny you should mention her,” said Michael. “We were in Epcot yesterday and saw her at the Germany pavilion doing a Snow White meet-and-greet. She didn’t look so great, though. I could see some of her tattoos coming through her makeup, and it looked like some of it was rubbing off onto her costume.”
I perked up.
“That’s great news!” I said. “Well, not about the tattoo thing, but it’s awesome that she made it through the detox without losing her job. Sounds like she’s not applying the setting powder properly, though. Or at all. Maybe she can’t afford it? Anyway, it’s good to hear she’s still alive. I was really worried about her, and she wouldn’t return my calls, and…..”
“Sounds like you care for her a lot,” said Belinda.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess,” I said. “We definitely had some sort of connection. But I haven’t heard from her since the morning after the dinner party. Kinda hard to care about a person who obviously doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
“She didn’t look very happy,” said Belinda. “Maybe you should go talk to her? She does scheduled meet-and-greets all day.”
“I dunno,” I said. “I don’t want to be all stalker-ish and shit. If she wanted to talk to me she would’ve called.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” said Belinda. “We spent a lot of time with Lisa over the past few years at Jay’s… parties. We grew quite close. There were moments when she would suddenly become very open about her past.”
“Yeah, Theresa told me,” I said. “Terrible stuff.”
Belinda nodded. “She seemed to have a lot of trust and abandonment issues. And coming off The Dust just amplifies whatever problems you were trying to run away from in the first place. I’m sure she was scared to death that if she got together with you she’d just get hurt again. And I bet when you stopped calling, in her mind that probably meant you’d stopped caring, and just reinforced her paranoia about getting involved.”
“But that’s bullshit. What, was I supposed to call her every hour or something? She would’ve thought I was a lunatic.”
“No, of course not,” said Belinda. “There probably wasn’t any right way to deal with the situation while she was detoxing. She wasn’t going to let you get close no matter what you did. But that doesn’t mean you should’ve given up quite so easily.”
“And now,” said Michael, “even though she’s off The Dust and is hopefully a little more emotionally stable, she probably figures it’s been too long, and that you’ve moved on and don’t want anything to do with her. But she’s a very sweet girl. I’m sure she feels bad about never getting back to you.”
“Yeah…” I said, thinking about what they were saying. “Maybe I will go see her. Maybe I should just act like I’m passing by, and then be all surprised to see her there, and then see how she reacts?”
“Don’t do that,” said Michael. “The girl already has abandonment issues. Don’t make her think even for a second that you forgot about her. Just go up to her and tell her how you feel, and don’t leave until she believes it. Don’t be a fucking pussy, Blaine!”
“Michael!” shouted Belinda.
“What?!”
“Your future son or daughter can hear every word you’re saying!”
“Oops,” said Michael. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re right. I am being a pussy. If I like her, what do I possibly have to lose by going right up and telling her? It’s not like she’s talking to me now, anyway. It couldn’t get any worse. Well, I mean, she could get a restraining order or something, and maybe then I’d get banned from EPCOT Center, and kicked out of my hotel, and thrown in jail for stalking. But other than that, what’s the worst that could happen, right?”
“Right!” said Michael.
“Blaine, you’re a nice guy,” said Belinda. “You have a bit of a foul mouth, but you have a gentle soul.”
I blushed.
“Lisa would be a fool to turn you down, especially since she knows you’ve seen her at her lowest and still want to be with her. That has to count for something, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. I stood up. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot. Thanks, you two. Please keep in touch. I want to know the second the baby is born, okay?”
We hugged.
“Bye, Blaine,” said Michael.
“Good luck,” said Belinda.
I turned and started running towards the International Gateway entrance. Then I stopped running because I started sweating, and I didn’t want to be a stinking, sweaty mess when I saw Lisa. Then I started feeling like I was coated in powdered sugar, and my skin got all itchy. Was I breaking out in hives or something? Holy shit, this was an utter disaster. I ducked into the bathroom to the left of the International Gateway, just before the turnstiles.
Phew. No hives. I did have some powdered sugar in my hair, which I picked out. My shirt looked… well, pretty bad, actually. I got a wet paper towel and tried to wipe off some of the stains.