He squeezed his hands together. “Okay, Leonard Goldfarb, talk to me. Maybe I didn’t hear you right the first time. Tell me again what you think you saw.”
“First of all, I didn’t think it. I saw it!” I yelled, hands gripping the sheet painfully.
“Okay, okay, man… chill. I’m trying to absorb this. Remember, I just got here. And the first words out of your mouth were kinda out there.”
“As in — kinda crazy?”
“I never said that.”
I got tightlipped and stared at the muted football game on the TV screen. I didn’t know who was playing and I didn’t really give a shit, which is not my MO. I’m that dude who arrives at the game plastered with everything Seattle Firebirds — caps, gloves, pullover hoodie sweatshirt, pom knit hat, watch, pants, whatever displays the team’s emblem.
Victorio rubbed the bridge of his nose. After considerable thought he said, “I can’t imagine the kind of stress you’ve been going through. I… look… you completely disappeared for nearly two weeks. We damn near filed a missing persons report on you because no one heard a word from you.”
He waited for me to respond, but I only shrugged my shoulders.
“Look man, are you getting what I’m saying? We were worried and freaked out, okay? Then you finally call to tell me you’re laid up in some hospital in Carmel, California, but can’t give me any details. So I catch a flight to the Monterey Peninsula Airport and burn up a few miles of highway to get here. Walk into this room, see your condition, and I’m like — what in the hell happened?”
“Hold on. Who is this we you keep talking about that was so worried?” I asked, watching him suspiciously.
“You know who.”
“Kathy?”
“Who else? She’s worried sick about you, Leo. Calls me day and night to find out if I had heard anything from you yet.”
“Unbelievable!” I snorted. “She wasn’t that damn worried about me the night I caught her swapping spit with that dude outside Metro Grill!”
Victorio sighed. “Yeah, I know, man, that was a bad scene. I think dude is still searching the area to find his jaw after you displaced it. But I’m telling you… she was messed up about the whole incident.”
“She was messed up? What about me, Vic?”
“I hear you, bro… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry that whole thing went down,” he murmured uncomfortably.
“Nothing to say,” I muttered bitterly. “Apparently this affair had been going on for awhile.”
Victorio nodded sympathetically as he played with his right earring.
“I hope you didn’t tell her where I am?”
“Come on, man, it’s me!” he insisted. “I gave you my word. The only thing I said was you needed space and had to jet out of town, but otherwise you’re doing fine.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, a pretty good lie. Whatever the case, she wanted me to be sure and tell you how miserable she is and that she really needs to talk with you.”
“That’s not happening,” I snapped. “The only thing we need to talk about is when she’s going to get her shit out of my house.”
“Hey, I understand but from here on out, this carrier pigeon has retired — it’s between you guys. I’m here to help a friend get back to his happy place.”
“The only thing I’m happy about is it’s summer and I have time off until fall to recuperate before I go back to teaching sociology classes at the university.”
“Luck you. They got me teaching classes there at the American Indian Studies department this summer. Although, I must admit, I do sincerely enjoy stomping your guilty white asses with my moccasins now and then,” he remarked with a sly grin.
I tried, but failed to prevent the smile creeping up on me. “I’m sure you do.”
“Okay, so you hightail it out of Seattle and drive all the way to Carmel?”
“My mission was to drive to any-where’s-ville.”
“You chose a beautiful place to end up,” he said thoughtful.
“I guess.”
“Well, I got nothing but time. So let’s hear it… the real lowdown.”
“Oh, I’ll tell you everything,” I said, pushing myself up to a sitting position. “But I need you to make a promise.”
“Promise,” he quickly replied, adjusting the pillows behind me.
“I’m serious! I need you to be that open-minded, idealistic guy I connected with as a freshman in college when we protested everything from anti-Semitism to Columbus discovering America. I’m talking about the same guy who when we got drunk or high, loved to talk about ghosts, and spirits, and the supernatural.”
“You know I’m a believer in all that… the Great Spirt and all the spirits that inhabit nature… that’s how I was raised.”
“Then it’s about to be put to the test.”
“I hope you are aware that you’ve been through hell and sometimes under severe duress the mind plays funny tricks… you start seeing things that may not exist… you feel me?”
“They drugged me with painkillers, not LSD,” I reminded him.
He chuckled and eased back in his chair. “All right, man… let’s hear it.”
Naturally, I was filled with misgivings about recounting my story. To anyone who did not see it, it would sound insane, but it was what happened and I’d never say otherwise.
“Okay, you already know my state of mind was fucked up. After I raised some dust on the highway, I checked into a funky little hotel room in Carmel. Despite 13 hours of driving, I was restless all the following day. I tried to sleep but that was about as successful as converting Donald Trump into a liberal.”
Vic sniggered and I shot him a look until he settled back into silence.
“Finally, around 1:30 am, I threw on my sweats, snatched a case of brewskies out of the fridge, and trekked down to the beach. Even in my wretched state, I admired how clear and gorgeous the night was. I got to feeling very mellow as I wandered along the shore sipping beer. I had the whole beach to myself…”
In my lifetime, I have never seen a moon so full and so incredibly bright as that night. The water sparkled as if it rained diamonds. I walked on the soft white sand as aimlessly as I drove. After an hour or so of mindless wandering, I paused to rest and leaned against an embankment of rocks stretching out to the sea. I popped open another beer while enjoying the chill of the ocean air massaging my face. The soothing sound of the ocean waves lapping against the rocks gave me such a feeling of tranquility my anger gradually melted…
“Wish they could find a way to capture that feeling in a bottle,” Vic interrupted, tugging his goatee again.
I smirked. “Me too. Xanax doesn’t come close to the serenity drifting through me at that moment, but I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
I damn near fell asleep on those rocks, just listening to the waves crashing in around me, until something moving on the huge rocks jolted me out of my reverie. I climbed up on the embankment to see if I spotted anything. What I stumbled upon made my chest feel like it was about to crack open from the pounding my heart gave it.
There on the rocks lay a nude woman about 30 feet away from me bathing in the moon’s radiance like it was the noonday sun. Her face was like a porcelain doll’s; smooth, delicate, and small. Her deep olive colored skin shimmered in the moonlight.
I couldn’t steal my eyes away from her. She was absolutely breathtaking! She sat up and fanned her fingers through endless masses of coal black hair. It swept across her body as she rhythmically swayed from side to side. Overhead, I heard the eerie sound of a lone bird whistling, but saw nothing. In hindsight, I’m convinced it was her. Somehow, she made that call echo from her mouth, like nothing I’ve ever heard before. The woman’s eyes were closed and her arms thrust upwards toward the moon in a supplicatory gesture.