The Home For Wayward Ladies (34 page)

Nicholas' serpentine tongue awaits my reply, split and hissing. After a gulp of dusty air, I wheeze, “It wasn’t Eli’s fault this time. It was mine.”

“Hunter. Please. Don’t.” Eli tries to grab my hand. I pull away. With Nicholas watching, I’ve forgotten how to let him.

“Sweetheart, I have to,” I say gently. I square off towards Nicholas to proceed, “Last night, I kissed Eli.”

The look of disgust on Nicholas' face must do wonders for Eli’s self-esteem. But, as far as Nicholas is concerned, no one should feel worse than I do. “How could you?” he prods.

Much to my embarrassment, Eli proclaims, “With lips aflame of fiery passion.”

“Pencils down, Pablo Neruda,” I croak. “Yes, we kissed. And, dare I say, I mostly liked it.”

To this, Eli laughs. “‘I mostly liked it’ says the
Hunter Collier Tribune
. Feh— I’ve had worse reviews. That sounds close enough to mixed-positive for me to pull something for the advertising campaign. Only, it’s a shame there won’t be one since you closed the show while it was still out of town.”

My love for Eli runs deep enough that I shouldn’t care what Nicholas has to say. Anyway, it’s not as if I’ve never washed the blood off his hands after a kill. Still, I proceed with caution so as not to further wound the already injured parties. “Even though I have consciously taken each step of this journey, I can’t begin to comprehend the path that led me here. I love you, Eli, but it’s clear we’ve lost our way.”

He scratches the stubble on his cheek that this morning’s hysterics gave him no opportunity to shave. “If that’s an apology, I suppose I accept. It’s okay, Hunter,” he says, defeated. “Life happens.”

“On that we can agree,” I reply. “But, Eli, you’re not the only one among us that was smart enough to anticipate change. Yes, Ladies: we have grown- only I fear perhaps that it was in the wrong direction. Look at what we’ve become: a liar, a neurotic, a malcontent.”

Nicholas' ego requires that his role be assigned. “Which one of them am I?”

“All three,” Eli snaps. To that, we all smile. At least we haven’t lost our sense of humor. 

While the air is still light enough to breathe, I interject. “Eli, I’m sorry that I kissed you. It wasn’t fair of me to lead you on.”

“Water under the bridge,” he replies. “I’m just pleased to hear you ‘mostly liked it.’”

“Yes,” I say, “I mostly did. But I’m sorry that it gave the wrong idea.”

“Then allow me to ask one question and let’s never speak of it again: why did you do it?” The word problem he has proposed is so complicated that an abacus wouldn’t help me find its solution.

“Because I miss you. Your continual pursuance has only exacerbated an already difficult situation. Think of it: even Tom must have grown tired of chasing Jerry. All those years of threatening that mouse’s life, and it brought him nothing but agony. And do you know how they ended up? In the last cartoon they ever made, that mouse sits down next to that cat on the railroad tracks as they await an oncoming train. That’s not how I want this to end.”

“Who said it was over?” he asks.

“I’m afraid that, for the time being, it must be. You are my friend, nothing less and nothing more. But for all these years to know how much sadness I have caused you? I wanted you to remember how to be happy. I thought that was a gift I could give you. And so I kissed you. And so I was wrong. Happiness is a gift you can only give yourself.”

The weight of his posterior droops toward sitting on the wet park bench. At the last moment, however, he remembers the slats have been freshly painted. He stands at full attention. “Gone are the days when our souls were allowed to be fancy-free.”

“Oh, to be nineteen again” Nicholas adds.

“Ugh,” I reply, “whatever for?”

“So that Mackinaw University would still have control over my mind. To be told when to eat, when to sleep, when to shit. Life was so tidy when it was all spelled out in a syllabus. Then when push came to shove, we could rebel by cutting class to fuck off in the park and enjoy being Ladies.”

I gesture for Nicholas to join us up on stage. He rolls his eyes, an affliction for which he may never find a cure. “Nicholas, darling, this is not a conversation that I’m willing to have with the top of your head. Come here- I need to know you are on our level.” He climbs onto the stage with a reluctant obedience. Still, he maintains a calculated distance from Eli. Again, I am trapped in between. Only this time it feels different. I refuse to serve as the net over which those two will volley. I understand now that my position in the middle affords me great power. I am the bond which, without, the broken pieces would have no glue. Proudly, I say,
“The Ladyfriends will last forever for I will forever be a Ladyfriend.”

Eli groans. “Not that fucking oath again. Honestly, if I had known the frequency with which that chocolate pie would be thrown back in my face, I would have ordered the sorbet.”

Nicholas is happy to commiserate. He throws back his head as if he were dodging an arrow. “Leave it to the Jew to find a loophole, but we’ve all done plenty to nullify that contract.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” I say. “That leads me to believe we’ll need to tear down more walls in order to rebuild. Eli, I haven’t been entirely honest with you. Nicholas hasn’t either.”

Nicholas replies, “Speaking of sitting on the tracks while awaiting the oncoming train.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this, Hunt?”

“No,” I reply, brushing him away, “which is why I’m not going to. You are.”

40

NICHOLAS

Eli crosses his arms and turns to look at me. To him, I appear as nothing more than a dog who’s dangling his favorite loafers from my snout. Hunter raises his eyebrows, urging me to proceed. For once, I don’t know how. This isn’t my cross to bear.

Still, his back is holding strong, chest puffed out and asshole perpetually puckered. He waits for my gums to start flapping. They don’t. Like a female contortionist performing a backbend, I clam up. Even as an actor, it’s harder than you think to play a scene without a script. To collect my thoughts, I look to the flowers Danny sent me. The red pollinated puff on the lily reminds me of all I have to be grateful for. Its stalk is stronger than that of the other flowers, but that doesn’t mean it’s not as delicate.

“Ladies,” I say, “I want to apologize.”

“And the citizens of hell all reach for a sweater,” Eli replies.

Hunter comes to my aid. “Nicholas is already under a great deal of pressure, what with still having to learn this show. Let him have his moment. We’ve each certainly had ours.”

“Don’t make excuses for me,” I reply. “The more time I get, the farther I’ll wander from the truth. Eli- a few months ago, Hunter came to me for help.” His arms uncross with an overwhelming concern for his beloved.

“Help with what? Immaculate conception?”

“That’s what I said!” I reply. “Great minds, Lady… Great minds.”  

Hunter is not amused. “Nicholas Irwin Applebaum, I handed you the clothespins, now put the laundry on the line.”

“I’m getting there,” I snap. “Anyway, he was having a… problem… and not one that watching Audra McDonald on YouTube was going to solve. It ran a lot deeper than that. He was sick.” It’s obvious that Eli’s mind is circling the drain, so I keep the water running. “Hunter’s got OCD.”

Eli’s eyes trace an imaginary horizon in the distance. “Of course,” he says, disappointedly. “I’m a fool to not have noticed. All this time I thought you didn’t want me because you were waiting for something better to come along. That wasn’t it at all, was it, Hunt?” 

“It was never you,” Hunter says. “I didn’t want you because I didn’t want myself.”

“But that’s not all of the story left untold,” I add. “I have to confess that I told him not to tell you. Ever. But before you go backstage to ask Frank Vallenzino to borrow his wire cutters to circumcise me again, I want you to know I had the best of intentions.”

“Which were?” Eli commands. “Go on. This isn’t Scooby Doo; I don’t work on clues.”

I turn to Hunter and sigh. “Can’t you take it from here?”

“Not on your life, bub,” he replies. “You’re doing fine, Lady. Just keep doing.”

“Fine,” I say. “Eli- I wanted to protect you.”

“From?”

“Yourself. Look, not for one moment have I ever doubted the sincerity of the feelings you have toward Hunter; they would have never lasted this long if they weren’t true. But, as selfish as it may sound, the Ladies have always been at their collective best when all those feelings are tucked away. You’re capable of a great deal, Eli. For as much as I admire that in you, I’d be lying to say it doesn’t paralyze me with fear- and, yes, even a tinge of jealousy. Hunter is obsessive- he sterilizes his entire body in rubbing alcohol because after one handshake he thinks he’s going to get TB. But you’re obsessive in your own right, only it comes about in different ways.”

“I’m hardly that bad,” Eli says before motioning towards Hunter. “No offense.”

Hunter shrugs a “none taken” and tells me to proceed. “Eli, I’ve watched for years as your desire for Hunter has left you a miserable shell. Although I don’t say it often, you’re handsome in your own right. But it’s your mind that serves as your most beautiful feature. I couldn’t let you lose that to him. Hunter, I love you, but you’re not worth it. No one is.”

“That was never for you to decide,” Eli says, to which I can’t help but agree.

“You’re right. And that’s why Hunter is forcing me to apologize.” With this, Hunter’s feathers ruffle. I’m glad; I’m not the only one of us that deserves to feel like he’s molting. “Lucky for you both, I actually mean it this time. Look, I’m sorry for all the energy I’ve wasted keeping you two apart. I couldn’t help myself. Eli, knowing what was wrong with Hunter would have only made you love him more. But no amount of shining armor was going to save the princess. The simple truth is that neither of you can be cured. You have both given me so many reasons to be happy. I was selfish to not want to see them squandered away.”

“Hunter,” Eli says, “I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” Hunter replies. “I was so ashamed of what was wrong with me. It took everything that I had left to admit the truth of my condition to Nicholas. When he told me it was best to keep it secret, I’ll admit I was relieved.”

“So, this was all part of your plan?” Eli asks. “To turn Hunter against me?”

“Give me some credit,” I reply, “while it may not have been well considered, at least it was well executed.”

Eli offers an almost forgiving nod. “Well, as Peron’s Mistress asked when Evita kicked her ass to the curb, ‘So, what happens now?’”

I don’t get a chance to answer the unanswerable. A stampede of wild buffalo kick up dust in the wings. The emphatic strains of their New Jersey accents make me feel at home, where a lullaby could sound like an brawl. Only, these voices don’t sound capable of singing anyone to sleep- unless it’s with the fishes.

“If you don’t got the sense what to bring the tools you need to finish a job, you improvise. It is a theater, after all, you dumb mook.” The older, fatter, hairier one speaks over his shoulder to the younger, slimmer, uglier one. “My pizza parlor’s making me a mountain of dough. I don’t wanna waste a second here. You gotta stop bothering me to do your fuckin’ job.”

The younger one produces a whine that does not befit his shadow’s stature. “You don’t gotta get so loud about it, Pops. I don’t know nothing much about wiring and the last thing you need to keep that dumb wife happy is for this place to burn down too.”

The older one’s volume cuts to half. The three Ladies lean in farther. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth about what you don’t understand. The lights are back. That’s all that matters. You know what these assholes say- the show must go on. Well, now it can.”