Lots of gremlins today!
Another dismal reverie that somehow alarmed her with its aura of veracity began with Jacquie, improbable survivor of multiple metastasizing cancers, meeting a rich alcoholic slob on a cruise, the broken-bloodvesseled type who wears a captain’s hat. Now when she gets tipsy, she gets maudlin (the figment of her in the scenario, because in real life she never got tipsy, in real life she got shitfaced), wondering what her charming new friend will think when she spills that her two grown children refuse to speak to her anymore, & she’s never met her grandkids. Will he judge me? All she could do was see her with him in the dining room, then having an intimate talk on deck, saw herself breathe deeply, close her eyes & hope he maybe had a similar history—some kind of estrangement, wickedness, at least a little unexpected child death, something, anything but a healthy thriving relationship with his kids, Lord please no, not that. She already saw him (in her fluish head) nodding off in his ludicrous cap as she told him about Jerilynn & Jerry Jr., coming to from his nod, shaking his head in empathy, or making a damn good show of it, when the truth of it is he’s muttering under his breath Jesus THIS cunt must be some piece of WORK. To have 2 kids, not one, but 2 blow her off! She’s probably fucking nuts but the crazy ones give the best head
what would it be like what would it be like to blow a rich, alcoholic, borderline-homely slob in a captain’s hat on a cruise, the sheer desolation of it, the aloneness, she could taste the crud of his dickskin, what would it be like what would it be like what would it be like to be on a cruise in a stateroom blowing gagging swallowing & maybe embarrassingly upchucking a little afterward, hoping he didn’t notice/hear but knowing he did, and even though he began each morning vomiting the first drink before he put on his cap, even though, still, watching your little barf he was almost as disgusted by you as you were of yourself, though he’d never be able to be quite that disgusted, no one would, no one could possibly be, what would it be like to be told right after emerging from the bathroom with the heartburn of your miscarried puke what would it be like to be told that he really needs to sleep, he’s not feeling well, not at all, the best thing for him to do when he feels this way is go to sleep. Alone———
. .
She sat in the lunchroom with Albie, the fag boss she had seriously contemplated proposing to, she loved the fags, they were so hurt, so like her, so simpatico, she couldn’t live in the world without the caustic kindness of the fags. In the short time she’d known Albie, they’d become galfriends, they shared passports to the same country, she trusted him to listen to her tales of woe & conquest, to be on her side, just as he trusted the same, they were instant co-conspirators, pain buddies & art hounds. She was sitting in the lunchroom grimming out, and when Albie came in, the tender, comical sight of him instantly lightened her load. He sat down beside her, they were the only ones, more or less, Albie arranged it like that, he didn’t relish the company of fellow workmen, knew she wouldn’t, and scheduled them for late lunches.
They’d gossip about celebs or he’d tell her he wanted to die because he found out his husband took 2 boys to bed, their bed, while Albie was away (he called him husband, tho they hadn’t yet married), & after the catharsis & general bloodletting he’d take Jacquie drinking at the Sports Club Bar & Grille, too many hanging flatscreens but decent 330-8PM calamari, decent sarcastic peoplewatching—
She was going to pour a little bit of her misery heart into his hands, but he spoke first, & with urgency. He looked drawn.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m closing early today.”
“Albie, what happened?”
“My cousin Ginger — I’m really close to her and her husband Daniel — closer to her—she just had a baby & it was a stillborn.”
“O!”
Now she could see he had been crying.
“Jacquie, it is so horrible. And Daniel said there’s something wrong — with Ginger — that she’s really, really calm, you know, too calm, & normally? I wouldn’t trust Daniel’s version of events? But this time I do? Because… Jacquie, can you come? Would you go with me?”
“Of course I will.”
“Because she asked me to do something — Ginger got on the phone & asked me to do something — and it’s kind of crazy? Right? & if it was someone else I could kind of see the value of it? But because it’s her I can’t even go there. But I’m the one she asked, so I need to kind of sort of like honor that? And I don’t think I–I don’t think that I can actually do it. I think you—I just really need you to be there.”
“Albie, let’s just go. Let’s go and see her.”
“Really? Jacquie, thank you, because I just really don’t think I can do this—”
“What is it that she wants?”
“I’ll tell you on the way over, we can go in one car? Can we just take one car? My car?”
“Sure.”
“I won’t be able to, I know myself, I would fall apart. And I thought you could maybe help, specifically. Because I know myself, I’ll faint or just lose it in front of them, which would be so tragically fucked up!”
“Albie, what? What is—”
“She asked me to take pictures — of her & the baby. Like a portrait, a formal family portrait. So she can remember. Jacquie, it’s so sad! (Crying now) Would you take them for me, Jacquie? The pictures? Because I know myself, I will completely lose it. I wouldn’t want to do that to Daniel & Ginger! I wouldn’t want to do that. Do you think you can help? Jacquie, can you take the pictures — the portrait? Can you take the family portrait?”
CLEAN [Jacquie]
This Strange & Mournful Day
The
new mother, Ginger, was in bed sitting up, & the man, father, new dad, what have you — Daniel — he was sitting at bedside actually smoking a cigarette which Jacquie thought was impressive. Albie was already kissing Ginger, & Daniel was side-eyed checking out Jacquie, as if waiting — daring — for someone — anyone — to tell him to put out the cigarette. When Albie got out of the line of vision, Jacquie took one look & saw the mom holding the baby in her arms and said to herself But he said it was a stillborn, which only seconds later was confirmed by closer sight, energy & mood all at once, the woman was holding the baby, the baby didn’t look malformed at all, the baby looked beautiful, but there it was, terminally malformed of life.
What Ginger had asked was if Albie would take their portrait: her, Daniel, & the baby, or just her and the baby should Daniel not consent, which was his prerogative, tho she hoped he would. But Albie knew that his nerves couldn’t withstand it, he immediately thought of Jacquie, she was famous (in his mind, and it was the truth too, because he’d never met anyone who actually had a page in Wikipedia), if he could get her to do this, which in his heart he fairly knew he could, if Jacquie would do this for him & his cousin, that would be a blessing, good and right. When he told Ginger about his idea, & who he was working with, this famous photog and all — and of course this was before he’d even asked Jacquie if she’d come — when he told Ginger, she smiled so quietly, so beautifully, O! heartbreaking! saying “This is why God brought her into your life.”