Thursday, April 1, 2010

A Little Bit Like Juliet

Veni, Vidi, Valium

 

Jack had left the front door open again, that always bothered her. He knew perfectly well that she got out of bed practically an hour after he did. She never went fully back to sleep once he'd woken up and started getting ready. She would hear him creep out of bed and cough, walk into the en-suite bathroom of their tiny little terraced house and the light would stab at her eyes. She'd give a low moan and turn around, wrapping her limbs under the covers in intricacies of semi-darkness.

 

He'd close the door enough to let a chink of light shine through the denseness of almost slumber. She would hear the shower start, the low hum of a tune he mumbled at himself, the brushing of his teeth, the running of the water and bulleted sound of a spit into the sink. She'd listen as the light came off, and sometimes in the grayness of the early hours she would make out his shape as he felt around for the right clothes and put them on.

 

She liked spying on him. There was a secret thrill to watching him dress. She also took delight in her annoyances. She would never admit this to herself or to anyone, but she enjoyed being disappointed by him. It gave her purpose, and power, above all it gave her some semblance of control amidst her daily drab.

 

For example, she failed to understand why he would take the supposed consideration to dress in the dark so as not to wake her, when there was a perfectly good light source in the bathroom, which he rudely reminded her of every morning. She could not complain, however, she was meant to be asleep and all of this was meant to be unknown to her.

 

The door was the greatest point of contention. He had taken to locking it after she gave a hysterical speech about how anyone could slip in and make their way all the way to the back of the house where the bedroom was while she slept and steal something, or rape her, or something equally terrible. He was genuinely sorry, his eyes on the floor, but soon after it continued. She had stopped telling him about it, in a way that gave her the constant satisfaction of having something to be angry at him for.

 

When they had arguments she used to bring it up, until one day he told her that maybe she should wake up earlier and do something with her day. She felt a flush of shame and, like a panicked child, she had turned a brilliant shade of beetroot and started sobbing on the sofa. He had looked at her with a coldness that ran right through her, and for a second she thought maybe she had finally given up all her power to him and almost regretted starting to cry.

 

But his face softened up and he sat to comfort her, there was a deep well of inner warmth to know she had been given the power again, and everything was back to normal.

 

Maybe leaving the door open was part of his rebellion, but she doubted it. There was something so quiet, so passive and laid back about him that she was sure he just genuinely forgot. Outside of herself, this repelled Juliet. She said as much when they bickered, or rather when she scolded him. Part of her was genuinely shocked at how nasty she could get, telling him how little of a man he was, how had she even considered marrying him was beyond her understanding.

 

Deeper inside she knew why, he was her whipping boy and he took it like a little bitch, and this made her feel endlessly god-like.

 

Juliet climbed from the double bed and, noticing that her robe was on the far side of the room, dragged the sheet from the mattress instead.  She draped the sheet over her body, like a toga.  She grinned at this. She was Juliet the Greek goddess. 

 

Yes, Greek mythology appealed to her.  There were no dog-headed deities among that pantheon.  No corpulent Buddha, six armed Kali or bleeding Christ.  They were beautiful Olympians with mastery over all aspects of the lives of those who worshiped at their altars.  She had even named her cat after one of the characters from these myths.  Though he was a graceful creature, he had been a clumsy kitten.  He was always falling from the back of the sofa or the bookcases, though he never stopped climbing.  This creature, who dared to face the heights no matter the fall, she had named Icarus.

 

He sensed that she was thinking of him.  Icarus, raised his head to observe her.  His sharp green eyes penetrated the half-light of the early morning bedroom.  Juliet didn't notice his gaze as she went her way out of the bedroom and down the long hallway of their home.  In the hallway, the early morning sun broke into the otherwise darkened house, motes of dust dancing in its honeyed brightness.   As she passed the guest rooms and the home office, she could see the elderly neighbor from across the street through a bedroom window. He was picking up the newspaper from his doorstep, still dressed in his bathrobe, un-cinched with a T-shirt and boxers underneath.  She found the old man disturbing with his fat round body and his skinny white legs.  He looked like a toad.  She thought his name was Kurtzman.  Either Melvin or Marvin or something like that.  Something in his appearance spoke of underlying perversion.  She'd always meant to look on the sex offender registry to see if she would find him there.  Was it simple laziness or fear of having this queasy feeling confirmed that had prevented her from following through?  Likely, it was both. 

 

She was passing the kitchen now, on her long journey from the bedroom to the living room. Outside a window on the far side of the kitchen, birds twittered, traffic hummed and from somewhere down the block came the growl of someone's lawnmower, intruding on her.  Halfway across the living room she was overcome by a sense of heavy dread. "Open a-freaking-gain", she exclaimed to herself.  She thought of her accusations about the front door.  "Someone could waltz right in and rape me in our bed!" she had shouted at Jack.  "The whole world could just come right in on me!"

 

She froze, glancing around the room, her feet cold on the hardwood floor, her pulse racing.  Her breath became short, coming in gasps.  Juliet listened.  A creek issued from the next room, maybe.  She might have imagined it.  She turned from the open door.  For a moment she had a crazy urge to run to it.  To race out into the light away from that awful, tiny creek she might have heard. 

 

Instead she walked into the study that adjoined their living room.  It was a tidy little room, curtained and full of books and shadows.  The room was empty.  Something soft brushed against her ankle. She stifled a scream.  Icarus' soft white body nuzzled against her naked calf, with his tail hoisted high like a flagpole.  Relief evaded her though.  The sense of wrongness had not yet left her when the phone rang.

 

The home phone sat on a cradle in the living room next to a potted plant on the small round table next to the sofa, mostly silent.  The home phone never rang and she and Jack had debated many times about getting rid of it since they both had cells.  The home phone seemed like an old fashioned trapping of a past life.  Still, they kept it in case of emergency, with its number programmed into both of their cells under the name "Home."

 

Juliet walked across the door-sized rectangle of morning that divided her living room and picked up the phone. 

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hello.  Is this Mrs. Jack Kramer?"  The voice was somehow generic, kind and terrifying all at once.  The voice was polite and official.  When this kind of voice made a call and opened with that kind of question, it was never good news.

 

"Yes, this is Juliet Kramer."  Her voice seemed hollow and distant.  It was as far removed from Juliet as this man on the other end of the line.

 

"Ma'am, I'm afraid there has been an accident.  I'm afraid your husband is dead."

 

Marvin Kurtzman had stopped reading his paper.  He was staring across the street at Juliet with a quiet, solemn look, as if he had heard what the man on the phone had said.  He pushed up the horn-rimmed glasses that had been sliding down his nose.  The sun seemed suddenly a hundred shades brighter.  The sound of the traffic and of the birds seemed louder.  The distant lawnmower seemed closer and closer, growing louder and louder as the brightness and the sound and the weight of the world crushed in through the open door.  Through the hole that Jack had left when he went to work that morning.

 

Much to her surprise, Juliet's voice came out as a whisper, while her heart screamed. "No! You must be wrong."

 

The agonizingly polite voice answered, "I'm very sorry to be the bearer of this news.  I will send a car to pick you up; if you would like.  We need you to come down to the station."

 

Juliet agreed numbly and sat the phone back in its antiquated cradle.  Why did they need her at the station?  Shouldn't she be going to the hospital?  The morgue?  Juliet sank down on the sofa.  As if he had heard the voice also, Icarus climbed onto her lap for comfort.  As she stroked his velvety fur, she tried to clear her mind. All that had been wonderful in their lives, as well as all that had been horrid, slipped in and out of focus in her mind's eye.  Almost as if she was watching a montage.

 

Jack and Juliet crossed paths the first time her freshman year of college.  English Lit.  He sat towards the back of the classroom; she in the front.  She felt his eyes on her everyday; and she took much pleasure in ignoring him.  She had always been the kind of girl who expected attention and in turn, returned none.  Indifferent to men who were not of her social status, Juliet relished Jack's obvious longing for her but would never stoop low enough to acknowledge it. At the end of the semester, the professor decided to use the class as a social experiment.  The term paper was to be collaboration; and the professor got to pick the collaborators.

 

Jack had never said, and she had never asked; but Juliet suspected that their pairing was more of Jack's doing, and less of the professor's.  If pressed, she would concede that Jack gained her respect for that.  Up to that time, she had regarded him as a mouse of a man. 

 

Knowing that she was obviously the superior of the two, Juliet insisted that their term paper would be focused on the history of the Amazon race in Greek mythology.  Jack eagerly accepted the terms, as if it were up to debate.  Juliet had strategically placed herself in the dominate role; for no other reason than to prove that she could.  Had she known that simple, egotistical move would shape her entire future, she may have reconsidered.

 

Once they started working together, Juliet began to see aspects of Jack that began to change her opinion of him.  First, she noticed the physical things: the green flecks in his brown eyes that lit up when he laughed, the way the sun could turn is hair from mousy brown to almost golden, the dimples when he smiled.  Then, she began to see that he did indeed have a personality, and even a little bit of a backbone.  He could be extremely funny and witty; as well as stubborn when she challenged his intelligence.  She knew that he was intellectually superior; but still she was hesitant to let it show.  If he sensed that he had the upper hand, in any aspect; where would that leave her? 

 

She tried to remember the exact moment when she fell in love with him.  Or if she ever really did.  His eagerness to please and impress extended well beyond the confines of the classroom and the term paper.  Jack was always doing, always giving.  When Juliet injured her ankle trying unsuccessfully to party in stilettos, Jack not only carried her books, but would carry her when needed.  He bought her numerous books on Greek mythology that seemed to be rare finds.  He never spoke of his devotion to her; but he didn't need to.  He needed her approval, her gratitude, anything he could get from her.  And she needed him to need her. 

 

It was amazing, and somewhat annoying that this would be the memory that flooded her mind now, at the end of Jack's life. Juliet squeezed her eyes for a moment, and willed herself back into control, summoning memories of Jack's slights and shortcomings over the years. She was still the one in control in this relationship, no matter how the circumstances had changed! As a matter of fact, why did she have to go down to the station? She was not to be summoned anywhere, least of all now, when her life has turned upside down. She was still the Goddess Juliet, damn it, and she was going to be treated accordingly. She picked up the phone and dialed.

 

After a minute of confusion on the other end, the person who had called Juliet a moment ago was brought to the phone. Juliet allowed herself to tap into the undercurrent of uncertainty and fear that was lying just beneath her calm and controlled exterior.

 

'I don't understand why I have to go anywhere! My husband is DEAD! If you have anything to ask me, anything to go over, you can do it here. I have no desire to be surrounded by uniforms and uncaring desk jockeys right now.' The cadence and speed of her voice made her appear ready to have a breakdown at any moment. It worked. The police agreed to send a detective over with the car and discuss the details in her own home, surrounded by her own things. Funny how swiftly the house that belonged to both of them became Juliet's House. As if she was expecting this.

 

As she waited for the police, Juliet bathed, dressed and straightened the house, accomplishing much more in the 45 minutes Jack had been dead than she had in an entire day he had been alive. Icarus followed her around, just an arms reach away, in case she needed comfort.

 

The doorbell rang, and Juliet answered. In the blood red powersuit she had purchased during one of her failed attempts and what Jack called 'getting a job like a normal person,' and the upswept hair, she looked more like a CEO than the grieving widow the detective had imagined.

 

'Thank you for coming here, I'm just not ready to face the world outside.' Juliet put a little break in her voice, helping her keep control of the situation.

 

'It's no problem, ma'am. We are so sorry for your loss. My name is Detective Anderson. Please understand that all of this is a formality and that the police department will do everything in our power to help you in this unimaginably difficult time.' Anderson's voice was soothing, but a bit robotic, as if he had given this speech one too many times.

 

'Please come in. Let me get you some coffee.' Juliet showed him into the kitchen, where the coffee Jack had made earlier still sat, warm in the carafe. After pouring them both a cup, Juliet sat down, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and said, 'Tell me everything.'

 

From the detective's story, it appeared as if Jack, either tired or distracted, had drifted into the oncoming lane, right in front of a semi. It was quick, and he had not suffered. Juliet listened intently, and stifled a few tears, real or manufactured even Juliet didn't know.

 

'There's really not much for you to do, Mrs. Kramer. Mr. Kramer's body is down at city morgue. There won't be an autopsy, so as soon as you have arrangements made, they can release the body. A few pieces of paper require your signature, but that can wait. Do you have any family or friends to call? You probably shouldn't be alone.'

 

Juliet composed herself. 'Thank you detective, but I'll be ok. I do have some calls to make and some people to inform, however. Please keep in touch and let me know if there is anything else I need to do.'

 

'Of course, ma'am.'

 

The detective was ushered out the door and once again, the house was quiet. Juliet sat on the sofa and just stared out at the world. Icarus jumped up on her lap, shedding white fur on her suit as he did so. Absentmindedly, she began to stroke his back.

 

As much as she despised Jack, she never wanted him to die. He was the perfect supplicant for the Goddess Juliet. How was she going to survive without worship? Would she fade away like the forgotten gods of the Greek Pantheon? The time for mourning was over. Juliet had the rest of her life to plan, and the prospects were looking grim.

 

Juliet's eyes snapped open with the sound of Jack's alarm clock.   She'd gotten into bed early, -mostly from the feeling of mental fatigue while processing Jack's death -but sleep didn't come until 4am and now here was Jack's alarm waking her at 6. While she'd remembered to shut off her own daily alarm, she'd never thought of his. It pissed her off that "he'd" woke her up after having the nerve to die and leave her on her own and in a financial lurch. She laid there for 20 minutes wide awake and angry before finally concluding sleep a futile effort.

 

Her robe was still on the far side of the room. As she made the reluctant effort to walk over and grab it she thought, "At least I know the freaking front door is shut." She put her robe on and examined herself in the cheval mirror in the corner. She liked what she saw and the abrupt thought that she could easily find another dumb ass, bitch like Jack to take care of her entered her mind from nowhere. She smiled to herself as she started out of the bedroom down the Labyrinth of hallway.

 

In the hall, her mind did a quick flip through her "to-do" list:    Funeral preparations (do they really sell pine boxes?), relatives to notify, calls to insurance companies, and goodwill to take all of Jack's stuff away.  As she passed the home office, Icarus was just starting a battle with the pull chain from the lamp on Jack's desk.  You could tell Jack's desk from hers easily. Hers was bigger. Hers had a nicer chair and was newer. Hers had a nicer computer –which she hardly used and hers was clutter free.  Jack kept all kind of knickknacks and "office toys" on his desk.

 

She laughed as Icarus turned Jack's lamp on. She thought, the damn cat was always smarter than Jack was anyway. She walked over to turn the light off, pausing afterwards for two scratches behind the cat's ears. Her eye landed on the picture of her and Jack that he kept on his desk.   Juliet looked at them and realized that based only on that picture, one would conclude they were a happy couple –over the moon in love. Looking into photo-Jack's eyes she thought, "The dumbass really did love me. Even despite the way I treated him."

 

Julia turned and left the office heading to the kitchen and some coffee, but absentmindedly found herself in the living room starting at the closed front door.   Ready to check if it were opened and go ballistic if it were. It was closed of course. She thought, "No Jack, no fuck ups" and realized as she said it, that she wiped a single tear from her left eye. Hating the moment of vulnerability she shrugged it off and spun on her heels to make some coffee.

 

            Juliet lifted her favorite Arizona coffee mug she had insisted on getting about a year ago. It had pictures of cactuses and foxes, but mostly just dirt hills scattered throughout. Like a forgotten child pulling at her pants, the smell of patchouli lingered amidst the rest of the cups, spoons, forks, knives and gave her hair a sudden flush of wind. Gnarled and pulsing, her throat didn't have the mercy to let her give a past due weep.

 

 The small white handle curved around her slender, long fingers, while the warmth of the wind pressed against her back, caressing her waist. Juliet turned expecting to see him, his amused look, she expected to hear an "I'm sorry" in the very least, but of all the objects behind her, his coffee mug was what shined. She remembered when he left it there…he was only about two minutes behind schedule, Juliet was sure he would have to just swallow the damn thing. He had brusquely slammed it down causing the brown liquid to spread itself around the bottom end of the mug and yelled out a "see ya later".

 

As she picked up the mug she swallowed it down whole, dripping dashes of coffee across her neck and robe. "Take a seat, Juliet" she said.

 

"Let's get comfortable with ourselves. Now, you know and I know, I was never really too fond of Jack and his lack of manners and general intelligence. A fucking puppet is what he was. 'Jack the Puppet' fit him best, don't you think? He only lived to please us and lately he had been lagging in that department, had he not? Juliet we are beautiful, my dear. Go ahead and set up the funeral, get Jack off the living world and put him under where he belonged from the beginning."

 

"I am, I was about to do that. It was only a matter of time, I just needed to step out of this robe and clean my disgusting skin." Juliet said.

 

"Well alright, hurry on up then. We need to find ourselves a new man, one who isn't as cowardly and pathetic as this fool."

 

 

She was revived when stepping into the morgue, with a beautiful brunette pouncing on 50 keys at a time as she typed on her computer. 


"Hello, welcome, will you please sign in here and here and here" the woman said as she circled X's across three sheets of paper filled with some type of agreement.

 

"Don't see why not" Juliet said as she slipped out a pen with a gold tip from her purse. "How long will it be? I have to be arranging a funeral in about an hour."

 

"I see, well, they shouldn't take all that long. Tell you what, looks like they just finished their last patient and they're coming back up here" she said, pointing to her computer screen. "I'll put you down as a call ahead"

 

"That'll work, thank you"

 

"You're welcome and here's this bracelet, place that around your wrist until you're leaving the premises."

 

"May I ask why?"

 

"Just policy, now please follow the orders and sit down"

 

It wasn't 10 minutes before "Kramer!" was yelled from the front by a rather small man in a long white coat.  As Juliet approached him, he held out his hand and shook hers with too big a grin for his face.

 

"My name is Julian Stockholm. I'll be guiding you towards your…?"

 

"Husband. Jack Kramer"

 

"Of course, it's going to be right this way, but may I ask why you insisted on coming to see him…here?"

 

"I just wanted to see what he looked like right after the accident"

 

 

 

Her guide looked at her for a moment then seemed to shrug off his own thoughts –as well he should.  "This way, ma'am", Julian murmured as he turned to lead her down the long hallway.  Juliet pivoted on her heel as she followed, staring at the back of his round head. 

 

As they moved farther down the cold cider block corridor, she continued to stare at that bobbing head in front of her.  The lanky brown hair lay flat against his head.  The short strands clumping at the back of his neck sticking out and across the collar of his wrinkled white coat, leaving a dark discoloration along the crease.

 

They continued to walk.  Passing blank colorless doors along the way.  She couldn't hear anything behind any of these doors.  Or in a cavernous hollow space around then either.  Just the shuffling of Julian's feet and the sliding of one heel along the cold hard cement and the spindly clicking of her over priced heels.

 

Shuffle.  Slide.  Click.  Click.  God, this just dragged on.

 

"Ah-hem.  Are we almost there?  This isn't something that I've been looking forward to, you know.  Something that I ever thought I would have to experience in this lifetime.  For God's sake, where the hell are we going?!?"

 

Julian paused for a moment and then continued his shuffling, sliding gate.  "Just a little further, ma'am.  My apologies for the delay.  I know that this can be a trying time."  What the hell did that mean?

 

And they continued to walk.  Juliet thinking about the back of Jack's head and how his frequent trips to the corner barber –a barber!- ensured that this hair never touched the back of his collars, let alone managed to discolor any of his shirts or coats.  Jack always seemed to pick his feet off of the actual ground when he walked too, now that she thought about it.

 

Why was she here?  Seeing Jack seemed imperative at the time, but now she just wasn't sure.  Where the hell was he?  How the hell did she get into this situation?  Looking back over the last month, she couldn't really see where a choice or a decision would have been made differently.  But then she wasn't one to question she own actions or behavior overly much.  Why was she even thinking about this at all?

 

Greasy haired Julian continued to lead her down the endless hallway while Juliet's pace started to slow.  The space between her and her guide growing with every step.  Unwillingly, flashes of her life with Jack popping into her head sporadically, following no path or reason.

 

Standing next to a cage door together looking at what would soon be their cat Icarus.  She had wanted to find a breeder and buy a show piece –a piece of art.  Jack had insisted on rescuing an animal from the local animal shelter.  With Jack ranting about all the unwanted and unloved animals already in the world and not wanting to reward fools creating more animals for profit alone, Juliet had sullenly stood there until finally just to shut him up she'd simply let it go.  And they had gotten Icarus out of that.

 

Discussing the purchase of a new car.  Not that they had actually needed one, it was more that she had wanted one.  Oh, her fury when Jack had refused to dip to deep into their savings.  Stubbornly insisting that blowing their nest egg –their emergency funds- on a want and not a need was both short sighted and foolish.  Oh, she did get her new car.  A boring, dependable sedan with no interesting icon or hood ornament worth noting.  She had accepted what she viewed as a piece offering, all the while cursing him and his hold on the household money.

 

Looking toward Julian, she realized that he had put even more distance from her.  Glancing down, she noted that her feet had stopped moving.  In a daze she whispered, "Oh, God.  What have I done?"