The Wasteland
Tuesday, August 05, 2008The Wasteland
He traced the shape of Jodi from the back of her ears where her hair curled back, down her pulsating neck and up again to the pinnacle of her right shoulder. Her right arm was folded downwards and was covering her breasts, and yet he could see that they moved so faintly underneath the weight of her arm. He continued tracing her body with his eyes, followed the curvature of her waist where the tiny hair grew like grass in summer, and then to the point of her hip bone where the blanket started and her body ended abruptly. From there, an icy land of fabric waste laid in between his left knee cap and her body. It was about a foot away, and yet the distance felt like it could have lasted forever. The folds in the sheet were like mountains that they'd have to cross to get close again, to really get close again. The space in between, like an icy desert to cross as he felt like a man being trapped in a blizzard out in the cold. The passionate love-making amounted up to nothing more than moans and groans inside the sheets, the usual positions and then followed by the long awkward silences afterwards. They've been growing longer these days, and the panting of them both felt more like words in an imaginary argument, fighting each other to see who gains the upper hand, who gave in to the other first.
It was not love, Sean said. It wasn't even lust to begin with. It was something else, perhaps frustration, maybe even anger, a sense of resentment that exploded out of his chest and into his hands when he spun her around and kissed her. She fought back at first, she pushed against his chest and he could feel her quiver underneath his weight. But her hesitation gave in, her struggling became passionate. She returned the favor, and she uttered soft and lovely words that the "Jodi" he used to know would say. But they didn't mean anything anymore, for he knew about her little secret at work, her little escapades. Dan the future entrepreneur, Dan the pet of the boss, Dan the womanizer, Dan the rich son of an oil tycoon. Who wouldn't fall for someone like Dan, someone straight out of a novel written by a teenager who doesn't even have his armpit hair fully grown yet. He resented the thought of Dan, he cursed at the mentioning of his name through the lips of his wife. Dan who had lunch with her, Dan who bought Starbucks for her, Dan who brought chocolates for her, Dan who went grocery shopping with her. It was all about Dan, all the time. Even as he gently entered her, Jodi was thinking of Dan and the way his unshaven chin would tickle her stomach and make her squeal. Sean took another look at the icy tundra that laid between his wife and himself, and he knew what to do then, he knew exactly what to do.
*
It was a chilly night on the streets of Paris, and it wasn't the perfect night for any couple to be on the streets, at least not that time of the night. It was four minutes to midnight, and the box insider Sean's jacket pocket felt warm and heavy. Perhaps it was the weight of the ring, or maybe it was the gravity of what he was about to do that pulled him down. There was a curious smell in the air, a damp smell that was a disturbing blend of bread and urine at the same time. Jodi was there, regardless of the obvious stench, and she was staring at the Eiffel Tower with such an innocent glee in her eyes. From a distance, the tower looked somewhat like the candle of a birthday cake, glistering in the darkened sky and celebrating the coming of someone's birthday, anybody's birthday at the stroke of midnight. It was November the first then, now three minutes before midnight, and it would be her birthday tomorrow.
Sean checked his watch for the seventh time in the last five minutes while he took off the glove on his right hand and reached for the back of Jodi's neck as her attention was completely drawn away from his presence. His icy fingers made contact with the back of her neck at last, and Jodi made such a loud scream that the men from around the corner stopped in their tracks and looked back at the both of them. Jodi asked Sean not to do that ever again, but her cute and twisted face only stirred up more laughter. She has always hated the feel of a cold hand on the back of her neck, and she'd avoid it like plague whenever Sean attempts that trick back home. The beauty of the tower, the night and the lights must have drawn away her attention and caution at the very same time. As the light from the street lamp above soaked the both of them in a glittering moment of solitude, she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Turn around, he said, I want you to face the tower instead. She asked why, and yet he did not answer.
It was two minutes to midnight, and his heart was racing faster than light. He checked his watch for the eighth time, and then the ninth time just as the minute hand jumped to eleven fifty-nine in the evening. Jodi, he began, listen to what I have to say. I have known you for three years now, ever since that night when you came through the school library at night just as we were about to close, do you remember that? Your face was flushed, and you had so many books in your hands that you were crushing yourself underneath. Anyway, it has been such an amazing three years knowing you and loving you, and I just want you to know how perfect it has been for me, and just me, because I am just that selfish bastard that you got to know in that library. Remember that thing I told you during our first date, when I told you that I was going to marry you? Do you remember what you said? You said Freddy from the football team said the very same thing to you the month before, and Taylor from our class also said the same thing - and you denied them all. You asked me what made me think that I'd be the one whom you'd agree to, well here it is. I wasn't asking for the permission to marry you, Jodi, I was trying to tell you that I was going to marry, and I am. Will you marry me, Jodi?
Thirty seconds, and Jodi's eyes welled up in tears at that very moment. In fact, tears were already teasing her eyeballs when he was halfway through his speech. On the streets of Paris in the middle of a foreign land, Sean proposed to Jodi underneath the starry night, and they kissed deeply as Sean checked his watch from over her shoulder for the tenth time that night. Open your eyes, he whispered into her ears, with five seconds remaining. She opened them as her lips were still touching his, and as he softly counted down to zero from five, she wondered what was going to happen. As Sean whispered the last digit in her ears, the lights from the Eiffel Tower went off like a birthday cake, all in the same moment like a synchronized dance of a dozen dancers. Happy birthday, Sean whispered again. My dear wife.
*
Sean came around to her side of the bed with his arms outstretched. Jodi's neck laid bare as the lights from outside the window danced off her porcelain skin. The tips if his fingers felt cold, and the sides of his head felt numb for some reason. It must have been the chilly air, or perhaps it was because he was out of his blanket for too long. His fingers were inches away from her neck now, his hands seemed large enough to strangle her. He thought about Dan all over again, in his smart business suit and his branded leather briefcase. He thought of Jodi as well, in her designer suit and her fancy car that she drives to work every morning. He thought of the both of them in a room, with the lights dimmed like the one he was in, and then he saw him run his fingers through her golden hair. She was smiling, like the smile she gave to him on the streets of Paris, and his hands ran down her neck and into her blouse. They were stripping each other, and her wife let out a pleasuring squeal as his cold hand gave her right breast a soft squeeze through her bra. But Sean's cold hands were around Dan's neck now, choking the breath and life out of him with all his might. Yet, Dan was unmoved, untouched of Sean's frustrations and anger, and he carried on taking off the clothes of his wife. He was devouring his wife, figuratively and literally, and the both of them came together in a tangled ball of human skin like two snowmen that melted in the spring sun.
Jodi screamed and drew the blanket up towards her face. Apparently, as Sean was dreaming of the disturbing scene, his fingers came in contact with her neck and she was awoken. There was fear in her eyes, the kind of eyes you'd find in someone who's threatened, who's in danger, someone who's fearful of her own life. Sean! she said, what were you trying to do? Sean looked at his bare hands, the sensation of the touch of her skin was wearing away. She looked at him with fear, in horror, and she curled up at the top of the bed with her knees now drawn to her chest. Were you trying to, were you trying to choke me, Sean? What were you trying to do? Jodi exclaimed. I was, Sean attempted to answer. I was just trying to wake you up. Whatever for? she asked, her right hand was now reaching for her cellphone. Because you hate it when I do that? he replied. I just wanted to tell you something.
What is it? Couldn't you have waited till morning? she asked. I know, Jodi, I know. I know about that, but I still want you to know. Remember that day, six years ago, when we were in Paris? It was four in the morning, I just proposed to you, and we were back in our hotel room. That was the first time we made love as husband and wife, do you remember? We laughed our heads off until dawn broke, and you said you've never seen such a strange looking sun before because it made the buildings look like crooked teeth, remember? It was four in the morning, and you were naked as the morning sun bathed your skin. That was the first love that we made, remember? Why are you telling me this now? Jodi said, as the skin between her eyes folded into a frown. That was the first, and the one we made shall be the very last. I am leaving you, Jodi, I am leaving you because I am just that selfish bastard as before. But I still love you, I really do. Sean leaned closer to Jodi's face this time, his breath brushed against her cheeks like a warm towel, or a wet one that she was trying to avoid. By the way, he whispered, Happy birthday, my dear wife.
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on Tuesday, August 05, 2008 at 10:34 PM.
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