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Down in the Dirt v056

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Decrepit Remains
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Decrepit Remains, the 2008 Down in the Dirt collection book
Blurred

Shaun Jordan

    Thursday night she came pouring in so liquid-like, she could have made her entrance through the keyhole. There was something creepy about her; maybe she was a mist of fog lightly touching the ground, silently flowing from one darker area to another. Everything about her appeared complex, and irrational. She was a mix of stable disaster; a little beauty that hid in the edges of twilight barely seen. So when she came just pouring in Thursday night, it does not suffice to say that I was surprised.
    Liz wasn’t they type to drop by unexpected. She would call first, leaving you ample time to put away dirty laundry, sweep the grit covered floors, and take out the trash that had been overflowing for two days. By the time she arrived, you could have had bathrooms shining, windows spotless, and the coat of dust off the TV screen. But, this time she came in without warning, and I shot up from my lounging position on the couch and hopped over the back, hiding myself from the waist down as I was still in my boxers and had not been given time to tidy up the dirt in my life.
    Her face was pale, and vampire-like, studded with oily diamond eyes that gleamed as though polished. They were green, I knew, but now, they hid so deeply in their sockets and under jagged locks of hair, they appeared dark and infinite. They were tiny voids shining without a corresponding soul. She looked inviting to touch, yet fragile, like a cold blade that had yet to cut anything. Maybe she needed something warm, but I could tell it wasn’t a blanket she wanted, so I just kept my distance behind the couch.
    Liz stepped inside, pushed the door closed behind her, and made sure that I saw the deadbolt lock. Turning around she looked at me, if that’s what you can call it, and her mouth twisted open oddly like a misshapen oval.
    “Do you remember when we met?” She asked me, the words dripping from her tongue and lips slowly, as though she were forcing them from her mouth.
    Hesitant, unsure, mumbling, surprised that she had even spoken any words much less asked me a question like this, I responded, “I really don’t know. It’s kind of a blur. What are you doing here, Liz?”
    “It was a bar and grille place. Café Toca. Remember, you were bartending there? I was waiting on a date to arrive. He never did. It was Thursday,” she said. Each syllable was a piece of a puzzle, hard to place together.
    “I remember it some. Not like I can remember everything that happened two years ago.” I said. My courage was building some as the initial shock of her arrival and appearance was starting to fade.
    “Maybe you were drunk. I’m pretty sure I was,” Liz continued. “I never did like being stood up, especially by someone I loved. But, I had known for a long time it was over. I suppose I just expected at least a phone call or something.”
    I looked at her, my eyes narrowing, trying to understand. “What does this have to do with anything, Liz? Why are you here? I don’t want to play games with you because we’re over, and you’re bitter about it.”
    “No, I’m not here to play games. I’m here to remind you. Your room is hazy,” Liz said. She tilted her head to the side slight, studying me, pulling me into her shadow covered eyes.
    “It’s probably the smoke,” I said, trying to move her eyes off of me. “Remember? I do smoke. Don’t change the subject, just say what you came to say.”
    Liz shifted her weight, and her heavy dark hair moved only slightly, collapsing against her in another direction. She had always been told she was attractive. Her round face, small nose and pouted lips, her best features. But, the way her neck melted down into her shoulders, the way her arms flowed following the curvature of her body, the way her hips, and the kinetic energy in them dropped you down to the floor was indescribable. I think what made her beautiful is that her beauty wasn’t fake or polished. It was just there. It made you accept it without question.
    “I kept ordering drinks, you know, because I was depressed, and when I started crying, you leaned in and whispered to me.” Liz continued, pulling me out of my trance that had locked my eyes on her. “I was beautiful, you told me. Any man would be crazy to stand me up. Or gay, you joked and I smiled. I’ve thought about that many times since. See, I think you were good at catching rebound girls, and I had just bounced off the rim.”
    Her words were still slow, but seemed to flow easier, like her lips had become accustomed to her tongue.
    “And we kept talking. We talked about dreams, and desires, things that had been trampled on. Past loves, and the worst ways to die—funny how those feel related sometimes.” I thought she smiled at this, but I couldn’t tell, her face really gave nothing away. “There was a click.”
    Voice trailing off, she appeared to be thinking. Her body suddenly seemed to sink into the air as though her substance was losing its density. I was going to offer her a bite to eat, but by her looks, I had no way to know if she would be able to keep it down. Thoughts raced through my mind, trying to understand why she was here. Why she was telling me all these things? Though her face was calm, her eyes emotionless and deeply voided, I could tell that I had hurt her.
    “So time went by. You called me a cab, and I scrawled my number out on something for you.” Liz said, becoming real again, drifting back into this reality. “Two days later the phone rang. I thought you had forgotten me. But, I was happy. It was officially over with Zach, and you seemed like my knight in shining armor. And that’s history, I suppose.”
    Whatever pain I had caused Liz, she had to leave. I did not know if I ever really loved her or if I was just with her. I had ended this like snapping a twig. It was over, done, and I wanted her to go. So full of my own self-loathing, disappointment, rejection—hating myself so much that I actually hated her now as she stood in my door way.
    “Can you just leave?” I asked, my tone sounding closer to desperate than I wanted it to. “I want you to go. Get out. I want to forget you, and everything you and I ever were.”
    The tension made the air heavy to breath. Even though I was standing in my own apartment, I considered leaving myself. Something was wrong here.
    Daring to turn my back to her, I walked to the kitchen, and took a glass from one of my dusty shelves. Liz only stood there, watching me as I blew the dust from it with a quick breath, sending more haze into the already thick air. I ran the tap into the glass until it overflowed, and poured down onto my hand. It was cold and smooth.
    As she seemed determined to stay, no matter what I demanded or asked, I changed my mind about offering her something. “You want a drink?”
    Liz moved for the first time in what must have been minutes, shaking her head slightly and sending droplets of waters flying. I hadn’t noticed the water because her hair clung to her and slid down her skin. Now that I looked, she was completely soaked. I listened intently through an open window, but no sound of rain came though; only a warm breeze coated with the sticky, acrid taste of the city.
    “Okay. Are you going to leave soon?” I asked.
    She looked at me, and I dropped my eyes from hers for fear of being lost in them. With a quiet seriousness she said, “No, I will be staying. Possibly forever.”
    The water sprayed from my lips, raining down on the counter and nearly choking me. “What did you say?”
    For the first time all night, she actually smiled. I felt my hands numb, and the goose bumps raced down my arms, up my shoulders to the base of neck and rippled down my spine. I was suddenly cold. My legs felt numb, exhausted; my toes felt buried in ice.
    “Oh, so hard of hearing sometimes. I didn’t stutter. I said forever. If need be,” she responded, still smiling.
    “What the hell needs to be, Liz?” I was scared now. She was all wrong. Her eyes were truly blacked out. I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t find them. Her smile was deadest thing.
    Liz walked towards me, taking long steps, but quickly. Her movements were silent and didn’t seem to have much regard for gravity at all. I backed up against the counter, stuck between a wall, and a dark nightmare. Her breath was cold. Her eyes were still dark, skin still pale; nothing changed as she got closer to me. Liz was as I saw her. I had not mistaken anything.
    Then she leaned up to my ear, sliding the crisp index finger of her left hand along the right side of my face, tracing the jaw line, and finally wrapping her fingers around the back of head, burying them deep in my hair. With her other hand, she tapped the side of my head. Her whisper sounded like a knife being sharpened.
    “I’m here,” finger still tapping my skull, “until you know what pain is; even if that takes forever.”
    A loud knock on my hollow door reverberated through me, nearly tossing me from the couch. I tipped over an empty beer bottle as I searched for my balance. It fell to floor, clanging loudly and rolled against many others that lay scattered about. I shook my head, blinking over and over again. Liz wasn’t in the apartment. It had all been a dream. As I regained myself, I realized I was wet and my arms were sore and tired. I must have blacked out. I didn’t remember falling asleep or hurting myself. What the hell was going on?
    The sound of the door exploded into my aching head again, and I called out to whoever it was to hold on a minute. I plodded across the room, finally arriving at the door. The trip from the couch had seemed like miles. I shook my head, trying to gain a little more clarity. Through the peephole, I could see the look of exaggerated worry on the face of Gina, my neighbor from across the hall. I slid the chain lock out, unbolted the door with a thud, and swung it open.
    Gina stood there for a moment, astonished and unsure how to take me.
    Finally, she spoke. “Is, um, everything okay? I heard screaming so I came over to see what was going on and you’re standing here soaking wet with half of Budweiser’s stock scattered around your floor.”
    “Screaming?” I asked.
    Gina looked shocked that I would even ask. “Yeah, I did. Where’s Liz?”
    Then I remember why my arms and legs were so tired. Why I was covered in water, and small puddles were splotched along my floors. Liz was still submerged under the water in the tub, with a ring around her neck like a broken amulet where my hands had grasped. By now, she would be pale and cold, like the water; the strands of her hair would be dark, and her eyes shaded with an ethereal darkness.
    I knelt to the floor, gone from the world around me. All I could hear was her voice inside my head, echoing over and over again; the sharp knife of pain twisting through me, lasting forever.



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