mary-masked

Beginning of a New Novel

Published: October 6th 2016, 3:35:07 am

I'm visiting my parents in Maryland! I'm trying to work on the website for my event company but not having great luck. But I did write the first chapter of a new novel and my Chloe drawing is coming along well. Here's the writing.

Despite the sunset, the riverside is rendered in different shades of grey. The sky is stony, the pier a ridged ash. The river splashes below us, inky blue black green. Lucas is wearing white. His shirt is white anyway. He’s supposed to be in all white, a symbol of purity, but even he won’t pretend to that. A v-neck undershirt will have to do. His open peacoat flaps in the wind as he says a small prayer, pouring grain into the water. I don’t think that he believes in god, but he might still be afraid of him. Not enough to keep the sabbath or eat kosher, but enough to atone. Lucas has always loved atonement.
I know this is his tradition and he would do it without me, but making me witness it makes it feel like an elaborate apology. Why else would I be here? I’m not jewish. I’m not his family. I don’t think a witness is required for this wort of thing. So this does feel at least a little bit for my benefit, even if he’s done it before and will do it every year after I’m gone. Lucas will always have something to apologize for. And he will always be lying. I tell myself this over and over. An apology from Lucas is the smallpox blanket of human interaction. But if I really think that’s true, then why am I even here?
He goes throughout he motions as though he’s alone. He has a peculiar manner of ignoring me that invites attention. Like a very good actor can seem completely alone on stage, as real as any human, but always keep one foot cheated out to the crowd. I feel like I’m watching a private moment, a voyeur behind two way glass, but if I leave he will stop me. If I don’t watch he will notice. And he will hurt me back in some small way.
He wrestles dark memories as he looks down at the water. He mutters his prayers as if he’s throwing them away, casting them away with the grain that sifts through his fingers. He watches the water carry it away and he murmurs
“It’s not enough.”
I feel the bruise on my neck and think No. It isn’t.
But even as I think that, I feel my resolve against him eroding. He seems so wracked with tender guilt when he looks at me. And he looks so fucking good in that shirt. I feel desire start a sick roiling in my belly and I can feel myself pulled back toward him like the tide. Maybe this is the thing that changes his mind. I think. Maybe this is the worst it gets. This isn’t so bad if it doesn’t get worse.
Besides, who else am I going to date?
Once upon a time there was a girl who married a rich man. She told herself that his beard was not so blue.
We start to head back to his place. I see a burned out pier and point it out.
“I used to play on it as a child,” he tells me. I envy him. Something about it seems magical. Without thinking, I step off the path to walk towards it.
“Where are you going?”he asks. But I don’t answer.
“You can find it if you wander,” a small voice says inside me. “You will find it when you are lost. For ours is a city of lost girls, and there is a chance that you will be found there.”
The wind picks up and my skirt flaps around my ankles. I pull my pony coat tighter around me. I reach the wreckage and start to climb.
“Amanda, what are you doing?” he calls after me.
The charred wood is splintered but feels sturdy as I climb it. I reach a high beam and start to walk out over the water. The wind whips my hair around my face.
“Get back here Amanda,” he chides me like a child. I look back and smile, a tight, tiny crescent, but only for a second. Then I keep walking, arms out like a tightrope walker. The beam ends and I pick my way from pile to pile. It calms me to be this high up. All I can think about is my balance.
I run out of pier but I want to keep walking. There’s rocks below me that seem big enough to walk on. I take off my shoes and climb down to the water.
Lucas really sounds scared now. He probably heard that jumpers only take off their shoes when they really mean business. I guess I’m in danger now but I’ve never felt more safe. I step onto a rock, cold water shocking my bare feet. Lucas is climbing after me now. A sick little giggle bubbles up through me.
“I mean it, Amanda, get back here now.” I hear that warning growl in his voice and I remember his threat from last night ‘If you want pain, I’ll give it to you.’
The smile drops from my face and anger flares in my eyes as I lock on him for one long moment. Then I turn back toward the river. Water breaks over me, splashing up to my hip. I can feel my clothes getting heavy with water but I keep on going. I come to a final rock, big and flat and slippery with algae.
“Amanda, goddamn it.”
I turn to face him. To his credit, Lucas has followed me. His coat and shoes are balled up next to mine and now he’s coming at me, all bulging biceps and teeth bared in anger. My feet edge away from him, careful not to slip. Brackish water breaks over me again and again. I flash that little half smile again. My whole body is shaking. I take a long last look at him.
Then I dive.