Complementary Colors (14 page)

Allen’s spray-on tan darkened to a shade close to magenta. He exchanged a look with Julia who’d turned into a marble statue.

I held up a hand. “I know what you’re thinking. How can a man have a vagina? Well, I don’t, which is why I painted one.”

The stage manager made a rolling motion with her hand. Allen cleared his throat. “I’m sure now everyone can appreciate why you were reluctant to display this—” He cleared his throat again. “—highly provocative piece. I admire your courage to risk scrutiny.”

“Courage had nothing to do with it.” The colors bubbled up inside me, and I bounced in my seat. “In all honesty, it’s not even original. I simply took an underappreciated piece of human anatomy and presented it in a way it couldn’t be ignored. For example.” I motioned for the redheaded intern standing just beyond the camera, to join us.

Allen nodded, and she walked out.

I patted the arm of the chair. “Sit, sweetheart. I won’t bite.”

She perched her hip on the edge. Her posture so rigid it surprised me when it didn’t split her skin.

To Allen, I said, “Take this young woman. She is a prime example of someone who is underappreciated. She has a great smile and a warm presence. She’s so beautiful, she glows.”

Allen raised his chin. “That’s why she’s one of our most promising interns.”

“That look on your face.” I pointed. “That look right there, is exactly what this is all about.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a man. And millions of men just like you will never understand what it means to truly appreciate women.” I indicated the intern with a flip of my hand. “Young and beautiful, doors will open. The world is at her fingertips. But she only gets that chance because she meets society’s standards of beauty. When she reaches your age, you’ll toss her to that five minute segment where they talk about exotic foods and popular vacation spots. But as she is now, beautiful and perfect, she is led to believe she is appreciated, when ultimately it is her vagina men want to possess.”

Any minute now, Julia was going to catch fire.

And I couldn’t wait.

“Let me show you exactly what I mean.” I stood. The intern didn’t resist when I tugged her to her feet. “Here, sweetheart, take off your clothes and spread—”

Someone yelled for a cut to commercial. Julia had me by the arm and shoved into the hall before Allen could turn in his fat musical chair.

“What the hell was that?”

I snorted a laugh. “Careful or you’ll smear your makeup.”

“Goddamn it. Are you trying to ruin me?”

“I thought I was the artist? Or maybe it’s just the X. I love this stuff by the way.” I wiggled my fingers in the air. “Everything you touch sings. I was serious about those chairs. We really should get some.”

Julia dragged me in the direction of the elevator. “Go home. And you better pray I can salvage this disaster.”

The doors opened, and she stuffed me inside. “Oh,” I said. “You know when you asked me how many lines I did?” The doors started to close. “Just so you know. I snorted the whole fuuuucking bag.”

Anything Julia said was cut off.

I slid to the floor and drowned in the gold walls swirling with the recessed lights.

My painting. My beautiful moment. The boy whose hand I’d held, lips I’d kissed, trust I’d betrayed.

If only I could remember his name.

The doors opened to a bustling office, and a man in a suit with a woman in a wheelchair.

A flash of white moved in my periphery. I scurried to my feet. The corner was empty.

“Hey,” the man said. “You mind? You’re blocking the door.”

There was nothing in the elevator except garish walls and equally ugly paisley carpet.

“Excuse me,” the woman said. “Hey, excuse me.” They both glared.

I pushed past them and dove into the maze of cubicles. People filled the gaps between work stations. I swam through their black and red words. The roar of voices and the ringing phones filled up my skull with sharp points of yellow.

It should have been impossible to hear the two little boys laugh.

The wet smell of old dirt breathed across my skin.

“¿Ha visto a mi hijo?”

“Shut up.”

The hall I took had doors on one side and windows on the other.

“You know. I know you know. Dime. Le ruego.”

I pressed my palm against my eye. The pounding in my head beat louder.

“I don’t. I don’t know where he is. Now stop asking me.”

I hadn’t realized I’d shouted until a ripple of silence moved through the room. People turned to look at me. I dropped my head and picked a random direction.

At the bottom of a flight of stairs, gray light poured through the foyer of the lobby. I shielded my eyes as I shoved open the doors. An icy wind cut through the columns edging the walkway of the building and slapped my shirt. Invisible leaves crunched under my feet, and a twig snapped. My walk turned into a run.

I crossed the street on a green light. A car screamed to a halt, and someone yelled. The air seared my lungs, my ribs ached, and my feet throbbed from pounding against the sidewalk. But it took the muscles cramping in my legs to make me stop. Even then, I hobbled like some wounded bird trying to keep from being eaten.

“This is your fault.”
Julia’s voice left a ringing in my ears that grew into a scream.

“Where is mi hijo?”

“Tell her you don’t know.”

“Por favor, I’m begging you.”

“Keep your mouth shut, Paris, or I’ll break every bone in your pathetic body.”

“I know you know. Dime dónde está.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” I beat my fist against my temple. “Please, please, stop.” I collapsed against a brick wall.

“Hey,” a male voice said.

Silence. Then the hum of cars and bustling people led the way back to the here and now.

An elderly man leaned on his cane. “Are you okay, son?”

Was I? I wiped my cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes. Yes. I’m…” My teeth chattered.

“You might ought to go inside. You’ll catch your death out here.” He offered me a hand up.

“I’m okay. I’m fine.” I struggled to my feet. “Thank you.”

“If you like, I can buy you a cup of coffee. They probably have a phone inside, and you could call someone.”

“No, really. Thank you. I’m okay.” The fever in my skin banked, leaving my fingers numb. He was right. I did need to get out of the cold. I did need to call someone.

I wedged myself into the doorway of a vacant shop and fumbled with my cellphone. I took out Roy’s card and dialed the number.

The phone rang.

It picked up, and Roy’s voice bled across space courtesy of voice mail.

I faced the corner to shield my face from a blast of wind. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you. But I need…” I needed somewhere safe. “You said to call so I’m calling.” I held the phone with both hands to keep it steady. “I’m going to go to your apartment. I hope that’s—” The voice mail cut off with a beep. An electronic voice offered me the chance to replay my message.

I hung up.

There was a line of cabs at the end of the block. I picked one and got in. “Trip Drive.”

The cabby didn’t start the meter.

“Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“Then what’s the hold up?”

“You got money?"

I must have looked worse than I felt. “Yeah. I got money.” I pulled out a couple of twenties from my wallet and showed him. He nodded, and we merged into traffic.

Traffic was light so it didn’t take long for the office buildings to transform into high-rise apartments that quickly shrank into storefronts. A few more blocks and abandoned factories and worn-out apartments replaced well-kept buildings.

Young black men crowded at the corner of Roy’s street. Their skeptical gazes followed the cab as it made the turn.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” the cabby said.

“Yeah.” I searched for Roy’s building. But it had been raining so hard. What if I couldn’t recognize it?

“You want me to double check the address? I gotta GPS I can plug it into.”

“I don’t remember the address, just the street.”

We passed a pretty Asian girl talking with a man sitting in a rusted out Impala.

A familiar stretch of ugly brick came into view. “Pull in there.” I handed the cabby his money.

“Are you sure, mister? This don’t look like the kind of place someone like you should be.”

Where was that? A place drowning in desperation, filled with people trapped by circumstances so long they’d given up trying to find a way out. “I have a lot more in common with these people than you know.”

I made my way to the building and up the stairs. It wasn’t until I reached the top that I knew for sure I had the right place. Toys and trash littered the hall, the TV was too loud, and the people in the unit at the end argued. Nothing had changed.

Exhaustion rode over me on a wave of shivers. The artificial warmth created by the X receded, leaving me chilled.

I staggered down the hall moving from door to door until I found the right one. I knocked, but no one answered.

My knees gave out, and I fell in a heap. I made a sad attempt to knock again, but my arms were too heavy. Everything was too heavy.

“Pick it up, Paris.”

“I can’t.”

“Pick it up now.”

“Please don’t make me.”

“Stop your whining, and do what I tell you. This is your mess. Now help me clean it up.”

Julia grabbed my arm and shook me.

“Paris? Paris, wake up.”

I pushed at the hands cradling my face. “I’m sorry…please don’t…” It was a brush of rough fingers on my cheek that drove away the last of the dream. Worried green eyes looked down at me.

“Roy.”

“Yeah.”

“I called you.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“I’m sorry. I was on a job, I came as soon as I heard your message.”

“I knocked. I knocked, and you weren’t here.”

“I’m here now.” Roy put my arm over his shoulder and helped me inside.

I stubbed my toe on the doorjamb. “My shoes.” I felt my pockets. “Fuck.”

“Wallet?”

“Yeah. And my phone.”

“Just be glad that’s all they took.”

Roy locked the door and slid his toolbox under the edge of the bed. I pulled away, took the two steps toward the sofa and fell.

“Wait, and I’ll help you.” He led me to the bed.

“If you want to fuck me, you only have to ask.”

Roy took a penlight out of his shirt pocket. A beam of light seared through my eyes with the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

“Ow. That hurts.” I batted his hand away.

“What are you on?” He tried to shine it in my eyes again, but I buried my face into the covers.

“For God’s sake, you’re blinding me.”

“Fine, I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No.” I grabbed his arm. “No…no…I’m fine. It’s just X. I’ve taken it before. I’ll be all right.”

He pushed my bangs back. “How much have you taken?”

“I don’t know. Julia said a line, I think I snorted half the bag, all the bag, fuck, I can’t remember.” I laughed. “My Vagina.”

“What?”

“They asked me what my painting was called, but I couldn’t tell them. My Vagina was the first thing that came to me. A vagina. Can you believe that? You’d think it would have been my dick, but nope.” I squeezed Roy’s cheeks with my thumb and finger. “So do you think that makes me straight?” Once I touched him, I didn’t want to stop.

He caught my wrist.

“But I liked the music the stubble on your chin makes.”

Roy got out his cell. I made a grab for it but wound up with only a handful of his shirt. “No. Please. God. If they take me to the hospital, she’ll find out where I am.”

“Who?” He all but growled the question.

The effort to hold his gaze made me tremble.

“Who are you afraid of, Paris?”

The name wouldn’t form on my lips.

“Julia?”

I nodded. “I screwed up.”

“How?”

“The interview. Some big stupid interview. I must have forgotten my lines. I screwed up, and she kicked me out. She told me to go home, but I couldn’t.” I lay down and rubbed my face against the blankets. They smelled just like him. Every inch. Right to the tip of his cock. I nuzzled the folds and cradled the fabric in my arms. “I love this bed.” I inhaled so hard I snorted, and that sent me into a fit of laughter.

Roy put his phone back in his pocket and pulled me to my feet.

“Do you want me to blow you first or get right to main course?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

“Aww—but why not?”

He pried the sheets from my hands.

“Where are we going?”

“To sober you up.”

“I’m not drunk, I’m high.”

“Well, I need to do something to bring you to your senses. Besides, you’re cold.”

“Am not.”

“Trust me, you’re cold.”

“You could make me warm in your bed.” He shuffled me through a door to the bathroom.

“This will be faster.”

“But I like your bed. Best fucking bed ever. And it smells like your cock. I love your cock. Best goddamned cock I’ve ever had.”

“Here. Step in.”

“But I need to take my clothes off.” Roy tossed my shirt on the floor with my slacks. “How did you do that?” I was naked. “Do you do those little balloon animals too? Can you make me a tiger? The repairman magician.”

“Just repairman.”

“But you made my clothes disappear.”

“No. You’re just out of your gourd and don’t remember me undressing you.” He turned on the water. “Sit.”

“A bath?”

“I think it’s the best choice. I’m afraid you’ll fall.”

“You could hold me up.” Warm water rose around me, washing away the tension in strings of pink. I flicked the ripples to make them turn violet.

Roy knelt beside the tub.

“You really don’t want to join me?”

“Not right now.”

“You said for me to call you.”

“I know. And I’m glad you did.”

“If you didn’t want to fuck me, why did you tell me to call you?” Roy smiled. His lips were two strong masculine lines. “You have the best mouth.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”