The Bastard Ch. 04

"What's wrong, Ed?"

"It's nothing. Girl trouble."

"You?"

"Me? Yah, me. It's okay. The Devil loses too, sometimes, y'know? I'm fine."

"Is it the cellist?" I just looked at her. Let's not do this conversation. So she changed the direction. "Why don't we get some coffee?"

"I'm sorry, Annie. I can't. Not now. I'm sorry." I just wanted to get away.

"You're not okay at all, Ed. It's not like you. You need to talk with her."

"I can't do that. It's over. I'm sorry, Annie. I'll call you later." I hurried up the sidewalk.

My world keeps getting smaller. It'll disappear completely, soon enough.

*****

This evening was the second time I saw her. I guess I already told you that. It will be the last time. I can't chance running into her. It's too hard. I'm sorry Elizabeth. I'll fix it. I'll do what I can.

It was just another reception. I've begun to hate them. If I'd been able to go out earlier I could have had coffee with the benefactor and skipped it entirely, but I couldn't make myself do anything. As it was I was late. The streets were full of slush and it was supposed to snow some more, heavily, bad driving weather and worse parking weather, so I took the T and walked the rest of the way. Maybe it would clear my head.

I should have known better. The moment the door opened I recognized her playing. No one could mistake that for anyone else's. I stood in the doorway, thinking I should leave, wondering how to get out of my appointment, wondering what to do, making a muck of walking through a door, so that people behind me began pushing. "It's cold out here!" Somehow I got inside and found myself more or less standing around. A hostess offered to take my coat.

You dumb shit. You're not sixteen anymore. Get over it!

I can't remember it straight. Different parts of the memory jostle each other, so the moment I begin playing it through, my mind goes to a different part. I know there's an order to it. I even know what it is. I just can't follow it. To my left, in a large corner, they were playing. Elizabeth was concentrating on her music. She wasn't interacting with her new guy, and he wasn't talking to her. It was all music, all professional.

The donor found me. He just wanted to talk. He seemed to be a nice guy, ill at ease though, wanting to be friends, as though he weren't rich as Croesus and about to make the day of the Museum of Fine Arts, the Boston Ballet, and the Huntington Theatre in one swell foop. I would get the commission. I just had to make it through the next half hour. We got drinks. I tried to stay on topic, but, from the corner of my eye, I saw Elizabeth glance around. She saw me! I turned my back so I wouldn't have to acknowledge it, and I felt chills and burns on my back where she must be looking.

Witchy woman, please don't do that. Look away from me. Ignore me. I'm not here.

I introduced the benefactor to the appropriate people. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I'm under the weather. I can't stay long."

I remember Anne Derindorf was looking at Elizabeth. That stands out. When did Anne get there? I hadn't noticed her before. Where did she come from? You know where this is going. Do I have to walk you through it? She was considering something. I knew what she was considering.

Don't do it Anne! For the love of God don't do it!

She walked toward Elizabeth in little, hesitant steps.

Annie, don't play angel here! You can't fix everything!

But they were talking. I excused myself and went toward them as Anne got to the subject and Elizabeth's faced changed. Where was her guy, to protect her? I yelled, "Anne! What are you doing?" They both turned toward me, but for Elizabeth it was only for an instant. She stared directly into my face, then turned and walked away, with that stiff walk you use to show finality. "What did you do, Anne?"

I half ran to the coat rack. I couldn't wait for the crowd. I couldn't catch my breath. Hurry! "I'm sorry. I have to hurry. Please, let me through!" Anne came up from behind and touched me on the shoulder. "Leave me alone!" And I was out the door.

*****

The snow is sporadic.

I stopped at a bar back down the street. Some people were there—Mickey and some others—but, I couldn't stand to be with them. That's how I ended up in here. Now I'm going to walk all the way home through the snow. The better to think, though thinking isn't going to help now, any more than it did before. I'll listen to the slush splashing. At least I'll have some time to sober up and to plan.

So that's it. Good-bye to Elizabeth Peabody. Anne wanted to earn me a second chance with her. There isn't a second chance for Ed Hyde. I don't even want one. Anne was just trying to help. I know she loves me and wanted to make it better for me. I'd like to thank her for trying, but I don't think there's time.

I was happy before I met Elizabeth. Not happy. That isn't exactly it. I was interested. Aware. Focused. I was focused on the game, and I was good at it. I played it right until something happened. What happened, Ed? She became my Elizabeth. That ruined it. Elizabeth the music nerd. The shy one I sexed on our second date. The lonely young woman with the H. P. Lovecraft apartment. The artist. The one I could listen to practicing for hours. She became mine. I'm so sorry. She thought I was sensitive. I sure disabused her of that, didn't I? My Elizabeth. The one who would do almost anything for me, who liked pleasing me, who would take on my kinks as acts of love.

My sad little Emily. She really was mine to lose. At least she won't have to see me anymore.

End of Chapter Four