Kara Murray

Short Story

She Knows

It was raining. Her family brought in elaborate mahogany benches for this funeral with deeply etched patterns in different cherry shades and as we sat through the procession the wood sat quietly warping in the downpour. I was sitting alone. Alone: separate, apart, or isolated from others... isolated is a better word. It has the implication of untouched. No one wanted to come near me. They didn't know what to say. I suppose I wouldn't either. “I'm sorry your girlfriend killed herself.” That doesn't really have the best ring to it.

            It was raining when I met her. She was sitting at the corner booth of New Hartford's restaurant in Roxbury. Hartford's was grimiest shit-hole I'd ever had the displeasure of entering, but it was also the only restaurant within twenty miles of Roxbury High and the only option during lunch. She was alone, she had positioned herself away from the crowd. Body tilted so she faced only the decaying wallpaper. But that didn't stop countless guys from coming to talk to her. Each time a new suitor would approach her she would pull her body closer to the table and cross her legs toward the wall. She never spoke. And whether angry or exasperated each one would give up eventually. She was concentrating on her book; Othello in paperback with a picture of a pale lifeless Desdemona on the cover.

            I ordered my food. As I waited I couldn't help but wander towards her table, I had no intention of talking to her, but it wasn't illegal to look. Her face was heart-shaped her skin a shade between olive and ginger snaps and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with uncooperative curls busting from the tie. My eyes slid from her face down to her neck and collarbone and I easily let my eyes slide further… further… down... down…

            “Were you looking at my breasts?”

            I was caught so off guard that I questioned whether she'd said anything at all or if it was just an interception from my guilty conscious. I wasn't sure until she bookmarked her page and looked at me expectantly.

            “No, I ah... I just like your shirt.... your shirt, my sister has one just like it.”

            She quickly reached to her belly button and zipped her jacket to her neck “So tell me then… what's on the front of my shirt?”

            “Well, it... it was-” my fumbling was interrupted   by an unexpected sound; laughter was bubbling from her stomach. “Well I knew it was blue,” I grinned

            “Cecile,” she said.

            “What?”

            “That’s my name: Cecile.”

Her mother sat in front of me, her tears were soiling the lapel of the guy next to her. My bet was this man had never even met Cecile. He was just a funeral accessory thrown on after her mom found a matching handbag.

            “I should have known,” She wailed.

            I’d been hearing that a lot lately, the same words were echoed from every family member, acquaintance or person who pretended to know her for airtime on the channel 7 news.

            They were all dumbasses. Cecile was one of the most hopeful people I’d ever met. If anyone suspected her to commit suicide they were the ones that needed psychiatric evaluation. But now that she was dead they all thought that the time she said she was tired or wanted to be alone was an indicator. They just didn’t know her. No one knew her like I did.

            Her mom was now practically sitting in this guys lap, her daughter’s funeral- just another hook-up party.

            I tapped her on the shoulder. She looked back, “Hey Rebekah, you alcoholic bitch. Why don’t you stop dry humping this nice gentleman and show some respect for the death of your child.” I smiled and sat back in my seat.

She glared at me “Solomon, I know your upset right now, but it is not okay to take your emotions out on me.”

            I laughed, the funeral attendees leered at me, and Rebekah didn’t seem to know what to make of the situation. She turned back around and pretended to focus on the minister now walking to the podium. I realized that people didn’t deserve life. Deserve: to merit or be qualified for, that’s not the right word… earn. People didn’t earn life; it was simply given. The only thing that anyone can control is death. Death was deserved.

            I finally looked up Liza was reading the eulogy. Liza, who Cecile called her best friend, was average sized, well shaped and remarkably good-looking. In her dark skin her features looked carved and delicate. Unfortunately, she had the personality of a pit viper and I hated her quite feverishly. Liza knew she was beautiful and felt perfectly at home criticizing every move Cecile made. Cecile’s appearance was a reflection of Liza’s desires. Ironic, considering Liza was so jealous of Cecile. Cecile was the only person who could ever compete for attention at a level even close to her own and for that she kept her enemy closer.

            Cecile was sitting on her bed, weeping. I walked into the room. She didn’t see me at first. I watched her there obsessively wiping her eyes with a tissue and checking her reflection.

“Oh my God, how’d you get in?” she said finally looking up, startled.

“You left the door unlocked.”

“No, I didn’t,” she said breathing heavily through her tears.

“Don’t worry about it, okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

            I sat down next to her, pulling her body on to my chest. Her bawling made her body shudder lightly on my chest.

            “Liza hates me,” she whimpered.

            “Liza doesn’t hate you.” I responded in the most sympathetic tone I could muster.

            “Yes,” she paused trying to catch her breath. “Yes, she does, she told me today that I’d ‘deliberately dismantled our friendship.’”

            “What? You can’t dismantle anything, you’re too clumsy.”

            “Hey!” she exclaimed playfully hitting me, she seemed to relax a little.

            “Okay, okay I’m sorry, what happened?”

            “Kyle dumped her.”

“So.”

“So, she blamed it on me, she said I was trying to seduce him.”

I could feel anger raging in my chest, “Is that true?”

            She looked stunned, “No, Sol, I love you. I barely know Kyle.”

            Momentarily I felt comforted, but before I could stop it another feeling was forming. “Well, then you’re fucking stupid for caring about her,” the words were unfamiliar and icy on my lips. She looked damaged. Renewed tears made a flood that reservoired silently on her t-shirt as she stared down at her knees.

            I reached for her arm she pulled it back. “Don’t touch me.” She was barely audible.

Regret quickly seeped in and I was scrambling for a recovery. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- it’s only…Cecile, the only reason I said that is because you should have a better friend than one who blames you for every problem in her life.”

            “I’m not blind-  I know you hate Liza, but haven’t you noticed she’s the only friend I have, and she has been for fifteen years and there are good things about her she’s funny and my mom likes her-”

            “Ha, your mom-”

            “Please, don’t start she’s my mother and I have to survive in her house.”

            “But you’re so much better than her, and I know the only reason you don’t have any other friends is because they’re in awe of you. Liza is the only bitch who was crazy enough to try and compare to you- and she fails miserably.”

            She smiled sheepishly, “I wish I was the angel you think I am.”

            I smiled back. “I know that you are.”

            She was looking down, reached into her shirt and pulled out a necklace that held an intricate silver band. It looked distorted under the light.

            “Do you see this ring?” she asked

            “Yah, of course, you always have it.”

            “My dad gave it to me… it was the only thing my mom let me keep of his after he died. She wanted to erase his memory from the house. One day though I’m gonna give it to you- when I don’t need it anymore.

            Liza slithered down from the podium. Immediately, Rebekah rose to embrace her. The two stood at the front of the precession hugging for a long time. They made sure to let all of the funeral attendees catch a glance at their camera ready crocodile tears. Thank God Cecile wasn’t here to see this bullshit. This whole thing had turned out to be posthumous circus with camera crews and socialites and vapid displays of affection. It was ridiculous, or ludicrous rather and to top it off there was no body in the casket. They never found her. Rebekah was just sure that Cecile has killed herself after that night and for all I knew she was still free-floating in the Atlantic. At least her body was, but other than that she was free.

            After Cecile had finally calmed down I left and locked the door behind me. Cecile didn’t need to know I made a copy of her key. It was just so I could better take care of her anyway. I started down the street to catch the bus to my newest foster home. I’d been bouncing between them since my parents had filled their veins with more heroin than blood. I didn’t mind it was better without them. I was halfway down the block when I noticed a red Porsche park in front of Cecile’s house when no one got out of the car I turned around and crept to the window.

            “Liza!” I yelled. She jumped

            “Get the hell away from my car.”

            “Gladly, as soon as you come out here and talk to me.”

            “Do you think I’m retarded? You’re acting like a psychopath. Now get the hell away from my car.”

            I responded calmly, “Liza, get out of the car or I’m gonna bust your fucking window in.”

            She reluctantly hit the locks and opened the door, “What do you want?”

            “Why are you fucking with Cecile?”

            She laughed coolly. “She needs to learn a lesson. You shouldn’t play with things that aren’t yours, but I’m gonna let her apologize to me.”

            “You’re evil, Cecile is naïve and you play on her innocence.”

            “Yah right, if you think Cecile is innocent you don’t know her at all. Don’t you see how she parades herself in front of men, she loves the attention and if something more exciting came along she’d leave you in a second.” 

            I could feel my heart pumping the blood faster. I grabbed Liza by her wrist and threw her against her car. For the first time ever in my life she looked scared, the stupid bitch could only be empathetic with herself. I let go of her arms.

            “You’re not worth it,” I mumbled and headed back down the street as I heard her gasping behind me.

            We lifted the casket.  It was light. This was pointless, but I couldn’t refuse being a pallbearer for Cecile. The rain came down so heavily now that I could barely see in front of me. The other three men and I moved faltering down the aisle. Through the water I could make out a blurry image of the hearse… just a few more feet. As we pushed closer a second image came into view: a police car, actually several police cars each rolling slowly- lights off. I was hypnotized as they creeped closer. I forgot that I was walking. I didn’t remember where I was until I felt a slight weight off my shoulders and saw the other pallbearers pushing the casket into the car. I kept watching these black and white vehicles all together and bunched they looked like harp seals, I imagined them aimlessly trying to cross the street wondering what had happened to their tundra and one by one giving up. Perhaps that’s why it took me a moment to realize the fact that I was being talked to I looked around and saw a swarm of officers, guns cocked toward me.

            “Hands up! Hands up!” Someone was yelling. I obliged.

            One man in a suit walked through the sea of black. He had this smug look on his face, I could tell he was feeling like hot shit, like one of those CSI motha fuckers. He grabbed my hands, cuffed me, and the next thing I felt was my face hitting the jagged pavement. From my position on the ground I could just see a dark face smiling from above me.

            “They found her this morning,” Liza said. Someone was yelling at her to get back, but I knew right away that she had no intention of moving. “When they told me what was gone I knew it had to be you.” She reached one bony finger to the center of her chest, indicating the silver band now coldly impressed on my own body. “She’d never give that to you.”

            “Your wrong,” I whispered. She wanted me to have it.

            The twigs and leaves cracked under my feet, each time I took a breath I imagined the cold air crystallizing in my lungs, each move I made was labored and my extremities felt like they may decide it was too much for them to handle and leave at any minute. But I kept walking. Finally, I saw a light propped on a picnic table with a hunched girl sitting next to it.

            “Cecile.” I said, she looked back and waved for me to come over. “Cecile, what am I doing here?” she smiled.

            “I’m sorry. I know it’s cold. I just wanted to be here. I’m surprised you found it.”

            “I can always find you,” I responded.

            She looked a little scared for a moment, but it quickly faded. “My dad used to take me here,” she said “during the day you can see most of Boston from here, but my favorite part is the water.” She hopped off of the table, walked to the edge of the park and looked down over the rickety fence that was once meant to stop people from falling, but was now at best a reminder of the ocean’s presence. “I told my mom what happened with Liza.”

            “What did she say?”

            “She said that I was exaggerating, that she knew Liza better than to be so cruel and I said that if she knew Liza well than perhaps she should be her daughter and I could just kill myself. You know what she said?”

            I didn’t respond, I knew she would continue.

            “She dared me to do it.” She laughed, but quite clearly didn’t think it was funny.

            “I get it now, I’m gonna be stuck trying to be like Liza and my mother forever... especially after you’re gone.”

            “When I’m gone?”

            “Yes, we’re not going to be together forever. When high school is over we’ll have to move on, right?”

            “Why are you talking like that?”

            “Because it’s true. You know it just as well as I do.”

            My mouth dried. “Come with me. You can come with me no matter what.”

            “No, I don’t want that and quite honestly I think you might need some time away from me, the more we stay together the more I see a change in you.”

            I couldn’t quite understand, my Cecile would never say these things to me. This wasn’t her. Her family and Liza were just tainting her. I thought I could save her. I thought I could save her.

            “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘some people are to gentle to live among wolves’”? I asked

            “Yah, of course but what does that have to do with-”

            I cut her off with a kiss. Slowly I walked her back to the table gently pushing her down on top of it. Still gently pressing her lips I reached my arm to her collarbone and grabbed onto her necklace. Quickly I pulled it as tight as I could around her neck. It was amazing how quickly she started to gasp. She struggled against me, but it was pointless her tiny frame writhing under me didn’t even loosen my grip. I started to see her blood emerging from between the chains in her necklace. It was vibrant even as her face began to pale. Her eyes closed and tears began to stream down her face. I pulled the necklace a little harder.

            “It’s okay angel,” I said softly. “You deserve it.”