Happy That It's Not True (23 page)

              Cara smiled and nodded.

              “Once you have an acceptance letter from a school in your hands—only then you worry about the money—okay?”

              Cara looked at the art benches in the room, observing the symbols of her life.  This is my life—I’m an artist—this is my world, she thought to herself.  “Yeah—Okay—”

              “Good, I’m going to get tissue to blow my nose.”  Ling stood up and walked out of the room.  “I’ll be right back.”

              Cara picked up her drawing book and flipped through it.  Some of the drawings reminded her of the gift wrapping table in the store where she used to work—how much she hated that job—how she looked forward to her lunch break, so she could get away from rude customers and draw.  Some of the large, hideous monsters reminded her of Luciano—only now did she realize the expression of her subconscious. 

...

              Belarenus was tilting back canvases.  About half the stack was resting against his chest, each painting adding more weight.  “Love your work,” Belarenus said.             

              “Thanks,” Diego said.  “Haven’t been painting that much lately.

              “My sister is an artist too,” Alex jumped in.  “Everyone is talented except me.” 

              “No-no,” Diego protested.

              Belarenus smiled and shook his head, “Not true, not true.  Everyone has a gift.”

              “He’s writing a sci-fi book,” Diego said.

              “No way!” Belarenus beamed.

              Alex’s face lit up with excitement.  “It’s pretty cool—it’s all Armageddon type stuff.  So—you’re Diego’s new pastor?”

              “Oh no—I’m just Belarenus—a friend.  We have a group which meets and we just talk about stuff.”

              “So you’re not a church?”

              “I don’t know what we are,” Belarenus smiled.  “I’m one very confused person.  Don’t ever grow up to be me.”

              Diego gestured to the sofa, softly slapping Alex on the knee and pushing the basset hounds off the love seat.  “Have a seat, Belarenus—so how would you describe the group to Alex?”

              “We’re just a group of likeminded hippie geeks.”

              “I’m a geek—or a nerd—or maybe just nerd adjacent,” Alex said.

              “Ah—we both derive confabulations from the same lexicon.”

              Alex grinned.

              The sound of a key pushing through tumblers broke the silence.  The dogs ran to the door.  Cara stepped inside, smiling and looking curiously at Belarenus.

              “Hi Cara—I want you to meet Belarenus—he’s a very wise man.”

              “Hi,” Cara shook Belarenus’ hand.

              “I’m more of a wise guy,” Belarenus said.

              Diego looked at Cara proudly.  “Cara’s an incredibly talented artist—show him your drawing book, Cara—how’d it go with Ling?”

              Cara handed the drawing book to Belarenus.  “She’s nothing like you said-”

              Diego’s cell phone blared out a ring tone.  Diego looked at the caller display and seemed horrified, “Oh-no.  Hello—Hey David...doing very good—wait a second.”  Diego turned toward Belarenus, “Hey—sorry—I’m gonna take this call.”  He walked away with a look of dread.

              “So what can I do for you?” Diego said.

              “Our merger is complete,” said a loud and overly caffeinated voice.

              “And?”

              “I’m the Chief Marketing Officer.  I’ve got an actual budget.  Because of the merger, the CEO convinced the investors to drop a big chunk of change on us.  The company needs a facelift with its online presence.  Diego—we could really use your help.”

              “Sorry—not interested—I’m teaching now—life is good.”

              “No—no—you don’t have to leave your job.  All I’m asking for is one day—spend a day here—analyze the situation and then just make some recommendations.”

              “Not interested.”

              “Look, I’ve got a budget—I can pay you what you’re worth.”

              “No, can’t do it—I’m rusty.  I’ve hardly looked at a computer in months.  A month is like a million years in a tech company.  Think of all the applications and buzz words I don’t know about now.”

              “Oh give me break. Come in and just tell us what you think—easy money.  Remember the days when you had to make elevator speeches?  Diego, you’re the boss—everyone’ll do what you tell them.  Just come in, get your hands dirty for a few hours and go home richer.”

              “How much would we be talking?”

              “A hundred thousand.”

              “I want a hundred fifty.”

              “Diego!”

              “I’m serious.”

              “Okay—I’ll try to get you a hundred plus fifty in stock options.”

              “Options?  Are you kidding?  I don’t even want actual shares—I want one hundred fifty thousand US dollars.”

              Cara stopped her conversation with Belarenus to look at Diego incredulously.

              “I have a heart condition—I don’t want to deal with all this crap.”

              “Okay, Diego—I’ll see what I can do.  I’m sure the CEO will go along with it.  He wants to make this company look good as much as I do.”

              “I’ll have to check with the college.  I need to take a couple of days off from work.”

              “Thanks so much Diego.  We really look forward to seeing you.  I’ll call you back with all the details and we’ll book you a flight.”

              Diego walked listlessly toward Belarenus.  “My God—I have to go to San Francisco.”

              “Forgive me for eavesdropping, but it sounds like it’s going to be worth it,” Belarenus smiled.

              “I just spoke to the devil—you smell any residual sulfuric odor?”

              “No, Tio—you’re good,” Alex said.

              As Diego dropped himself onto the couch, Belarenus’ smile lessened.  “Diego—no one can make you do anything you don’t want to do—anything that would leave you soulless.  Guard the heart; it’s the wellspring of life.  Be sure to take good care of yourself—I’ve got to get going.” 

              Cara and Alex nodded and Diego walked Belarenus to the door.  “Good night, Belarenus.”

              “God bless you and your family.”

              “I wish they could always stay.  It’s just temporary. If I were normal I’d have married and had kids and watched them grow up.”

              “I wouldn’t beat myself up so much if I were you.  I’ve heard it’s always more fun to be around other people’s children.  Everyone loves a Tio.”

Chapter Twenty Five

            
 
The last hour of work on Friday was quiet and uninteresting.  The executives had gone home for the day.  The phone wasn’t ringing and the employees were visiting each other’s cubicles, discussing weekend plans.  Cara was spiritless—tired of counting the minutes.  On the computer screen a welcomed surprise—Lex4Slim appeared on an instant messenger window.  Brotherly words made her smile.  Could she talk?—of course, she was bored out of her mind.  Fridays are okay Fathead—keep messaging me on Friday afternoons...

              Cara’s heart pounded when she saw the Chief Operating Officer.  Hadn’t all senior management gone away for the weekend?  The six-foot-six frame added to the intimidation.

              “Working hard?” asked the executive.

              “It’s kind of slow,” Cara said.

              “Who’s Fathead?”

              Cara’s smile retreated.  “My brother.”

              The executive walked away without saying a word.  Tears and anger vacillated within her.  She picked up the phone, unsure if she would have breath to speak.  “Hey, could you come up?”

              The office manager walked to the reception lobby.  “What’s up?”

              “I’m not feeling well.”  Cara dashed down the hallway and walked into the IT room, the sounds of her steps becoming hollow over the raised flooring that covered wires and cables.  She searched the mostly empty cubicles until she saw the shimmering blackness of Priscilla’s hair.

              “Hi,” Cara said with furrowed features.

              Priscilla stopped tapping on the keyboard and turned around.  “Hey—what’s wrong?”

              “They spy on us?  They’re sitting around watching what we do on the computer?” Cara whispered.

              “Hey—pull up a chair,” Priscilla said with concern in her voice.

              Cara took a chair from an empty cubicle and sat close to Priscilla.

              Priscilla held her hand. “They have software to monitor Internet usage—keystroke logging software—and they take pictures of what’s on your screen throughout the day.”

              “I wish someone would tell me these things.”

              “The only reason I know about it is because I’m friends with one of the net-ops people.”

              “These people are sick.  Don’t they have anything better to do than to invade people’s privacy?  They’re just control freaks.”

              “Calm down—what happened?”

              “I was messaging my brother and someone from management said something to me.  This is really making me paranoid.”

              Priscilla put her arm around Cara.  “Take a deep breath Cara—think about something different—you have big plans for the weekend?”

              “I’m gonna stalk some guy tonight.”  A smile defeated Cara’s frown as she heard herself.

              “Oh really?” Priscilla laughed.  “Poor guy—being stalked by a crazed paranoid woman.”

              “It’s not funny,” Cara laughed.

              “Tell me about him.”

              “Oh—long story—I got an event invitation online to a party.”

              “Where?”

              “Miami’s Bayside—you want to come?”

              “I wasn’t invited,” Priscilla smiled.

              “Please, please come—it’ll be a mob scene—no one’s gonna care.  I don’t want to go alone.”

              “You’re right—you shouldn’t go by yourself.”

...

              The night was glimmering with shops and restaurants, celebrations overflowing onto the bay with tour boats enticing people to explore the waters, and the tiny islands containing the homes of the wealthy.  The throngs positioned themselves to better see the street performers.  One man, covered in silver paint, wearing a Speedo, held his pose—frozen as a statue—waiting for the next beat change in the music to make another robotic movement.

              High school age boys scoured for pretty girls.  “That’s what I like!” said one young man with fuzzy facial hair. 
Priscilla spoke softly to Cara while looking straight ahead as they walked out of the promenade toward the main entertainment pavilion.  “Whatever you do, don’t smile, or we’ll never be rid of them.”

              The Latin music stirred those closest to the stage to dance—captivating the Margarita and Piña Colada drinkers with Salsa rhythms.  Cell phones and cigarettes lit the night like the glow of embers.  Cara and Priscilla stood with those on the periphery, discussing what to buy from food venders and snickering at other women who had chosen to wear very little.  “Oh—look at that—can you believe her?” Priscilla said.

              “She’s got the body for it—how’s she going to get out of here with all the wolves prowling.”             

              “She’s definitely not going home alone tonight,” Priscilla said nonchalantly.

              The music ended with an uncomfortable trumpet note.  A smiling Hispanic man removed a microphone from its stand and walked confidently toward the center of the stage.  “¡Ya tu sabes!  Hope everyone’s having a great time! So glad to see so many of you.  The invitation to this event was sent out only a few days ago, but ah—the power of the Internet.”  The speaker lecherously eyed the women in the crowd, winking at some.  “Is everyone having a good time?”

              “Ye-ah!” was the thunderous response.

              “Okay—there’s a beautiful young lady here who wants to make an announcement,” he said as he waved someone up to the stage.  Cara noticed a thin woman with red hair bouncing as she ran up the platform steps.  When she turned to face the party, Cara saw that it was Sheryl Janzovich, and dropped her jaw in shock.

              Sheryl was holding a drink and beaming.  “Hi, uh, just want to say that—I want to completely humiliate Matt Schultz tonight.  Someone once asked me if I would ever have the guts to ask a guy to marry me—”

              Some in the crowd shouted and whistled.