Harrowing (6 page)

“Hey, look. Just the magazine I wanted,” a girlie voice cried out. “Lookit this. It just fell from heaven on me. It’s got all these cool bracelets...”

I slammed the window shut and threw myself into the shower. Lately I was taking showers two, three, even four times a day and my skin was starting to get as dry as a prune. It didn’t seem to make any difference in the way I felt.

*

The phone was ringing as I got out of the shower. I stumbled over a stool trying to grab it, cursing. I plunked the phone to my ear, and I just
knew
it was his voice. I just knew it.

I’d only heard him say five sentences to me before, and the timbre was garbled by the impersonal electric cables. But I just knew it was him. I would never forget that eely hiss as long as I lived.

“Hi. May I speak to Ms. Annasuya Adler, please?” the voice twittered cheerily.

The phone almost slipped from my lax hand. He was looking for me! Trying to find where I lived.

My hand trembled so hard the phone nearly fell from it. I didn’t know what to do. If I hung up on him, he would suspect. Nay, he would
know
it was me. But if I spoke, perhaps he would recognize my voice.

Grabbing a dish cloth in a rush, I folded it over the mouthpiece several times, forming a thick layer that I hoped would muffle the real sound of my voice.

“No... No...” I mumbled. I remembered something Lindsay had taught me.
“No hay,”
I said, praying fervently that I sounded like a genuine Latina. I knew what I’d said didn’t make any sense, since I’d just informed the caller that there weren’t any here. But hopefully his Spanish was as bad as mine.

Fatty and Skinny started squealing. Desperate, I dashed to their side and stuck the phone up next to the rat cage. Fatty bit at it and squealed even harder in protest. I smashed my finger down over the button with the red phone icon.

Lindsay and Calvin were whispering together and pinching each other on the arm conspiratorially as they walked in the door. I could just imagine what they were conspiring about.

My hands were still shaking. I hid them in the folds of my bathrobe and adopted a fake disapproving look.

“So. Which of you is going to knock on Bruno’s door to lure him out, and which is going to plant the bomb in his basement?” I said.

Lindsay only gaped at me.

“What the hell are you talking about? I was just telling Calvin I’d never seen such a fantastic movie before. Maybe it’s an old classic, but
Titanic
never goes out of date.”

“You took Romeo to see
Titanic
after the streetcar?” I said, deadpan.

Lindsay giggled and nodded.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s a bit mushy, isn’t it, for someone his age?”

I glanced at Romeo and tousled his head.

“Isn’t that right, honey pops? Did you like the movie?”

He squirmed away from me.

“I thought it was a bit mushy,” he replied, then hopped into the living-room.

A minute later we heard vrooms and pings from the TV.

“So you weren’t whispering about me behind my back?” I said as we peeled onions and sliced tomatoes a little later in the open plan kitchen.

Lindsay gave me a wide-eyed look that fooled nobody.

“Who do you think we are?”

I plopped a plate onto the counter.

“Okay. So what did Calvin tell you?”

“Tell her, hon?”

Calvin walked out of the bathroom in a bathrobe, rubbing a towel through his hair.

“You could’ve waited till the company left to have a shower,” I pointed out.

Calvin shrugged.

“Lindsay’s almost like family, isn’t she?”

“Chill out, Annie,” Lindsay said as she plunked a package of macaroni into a pot. “Nothing happened. We just took the streetcar to my neighbourhood. Ended up stuffing our faces at that Indian after all. My stomach simply couldn’t wait until we got back downtown.”

“But we had frozen yoghurt at the Eaton Centre,” Calvin cut in. “That’s why we went to the movies. They were having some sort of special anniversary or special edition or special something of
Titanic.
”

He passed his hand about my waist and gave me a possessive squeeze. A whiff of ice blue cologne wafted towards me.

“You missed a wild time,” Lindsay added. “You never tire of watching
Titanic.
When was the last time you saw it?”

I glanced from one to the other. I didn’t trust them one whit, and they knew it.

“You’re up to something,” I said to Lindsay. “And I’m going to find out what.”

She only gifted me with a wide-eyed, innocent dolly look.

Rudolph Verenich was tough. Legend had it he’d once even trained with Mossad.

But at the moment all he had was a bunch of inept and out-of-shape householder types whose main point of action was probably watching the evening news. I wondered how he’d ended up here, instead of living it up in London or Paris.

I watched as Barry, the one who had hidden under his sheets while his home was being burglarized, bashed his elbow into the face of Tina, a hefty schoolgirl who claimed to be a basketball star. Tina let out an indignant howl.

“Tina’s your friend. You’re fighting on Tina’s zide today,” Rudolph said. “Zo why you whomp her in ze eye?”

“I didn’t mean to whomp her in the eye,” Barry shot back defensively. “I was trying to elbow Kathy. Just, Tina got in the way.”

We were working in foursomes today. So everyone had a partner, and every pair was supposed to attack another pair. I was the only one working solo. Rudolph had told me he wouldn’t pair me with anyone until I could kick a target without knocking someone else’s feet out by accident, or punch a fist into someone’s shoulder instead of their face when I was aiming for their shoulder.

“You’re not much of an athlete, are you, Adler?” he remarked as I tried to lift up one foot without keeling over. “What you do for a living?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m an office worker. Do I look like I see a lot of action?”

Rudolph shrugged. He curled his hands around mine, curving them into fists, and brought them up in front of my face.

“Zat’s why you come here,” he replied. “If you were any good, you’d be in a karate league. And no one would’ve attacked you.”

I glared at him, startled. He grinned, pleased to have caught me off guard.

“Zo you were attacked.” He cast me a shrewd look. “Why I not zurprised? Tell me about it.”

I shook my head and went back to aiming kicks in any old direction. Rudolph surveyed me with dismay. He raised his hands, imitated gathering them before his face.

“Don’t drop your guard, Adler. Keep your face covered all ze time. You need a partner,” he added.

He whistled and made a gesture at Barry.

“Shulman. You look like you need a break. Come and do zomething zimple. Come and hold zome targets for zis girl.”

Barry left his foursome a little reluctantly. He grabbed a couple of stuffed red-and-white cushions with dirty plastic covers and sauntered over to me.

“Remember when you couldn’t kick either, Shulman?” Rudolph said. “Zo now you help ze new girl learn to kick.”

Barry grimaced and waited until Rudolph had moved on before holding up a cushion towards me. He pointed at the centre of the cushion with a sheepish look.

“Try to hook your heels over here,” he said. “Try not to dislocate my shoulder.”

I tried to growl at him instead.

“So why’re you here?” Barry said in a casual, bantering tone.

“I want to protect myself,” I replied, still growling. “Isn’t it obvious? Why is anyone here?”

Barry got a thoughtful look on his face and dropped his cushion for a minute.

“Well, I don’t suppose you’re interested in martial arts, or you would’ve signed up at some martial arts school. Most people who come here, it’s because someone attacked them. And they weren’t prepared. And now they want to be prepared. Take me, for example.” He adjusted the thin, wire-framed glasses on his nose. “I thought I was safe. I thought I was invulnerable. After all, we had the most state-of-the-art alarm system money could buy. So when that asshole broke into my home... Oh, but you don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? You see, I came here cos some dude broke into my home...”

“I know,” I interrupted him. “You told us last class. Remember?”

“Oh?”

Barry’s eyebrows arched in surprise. His glasses fell down his nose, and he pushed them up again.

“Oh. I guess I did. So now you know my story. What’s yours?”

I only shook my head and aimed a kick at his unprotected shoulder. As my heel ground into his bone, he let out a stricken howl. Rudolph glanced over.

“You dropped your guard, Shulman!” he hollered. “Never drop your guard.”

After class Rudolph pulled me aside.

“What’s his name, Annasuya?” he said without any preamble. “Ze shithead who attacked you. Who was he?”

I clamped my lips shut.

“What makes you think anyone attacked me? And if anyone had, why the hell would I tell you?”

Rudolph shrugged.

“I’m just interested why people come here,” he said. And he let me go.

I could see he wasn’t used to people refusing to answer his questions. He scrutinized my every move until I left the gym.

*

I got more of the same sort of grilling at my private session with Dr. Rheinhardt. In the end I’d caved and let Calvin pay for private sessions for me. But I was starting to question the wisdom of my decision, because I felt like all Dr. Rheinhardt did the whole hour was give me the third degree.

“I told you, I don’t feel like talking about what happened.” I stirred a plastic stick through my cold coffee.

I shifted about on the uncomfortable sofa. I had thought only psychiatrists used couches. Dr. Rheinhardt’s couch was covered with worn velour upholstery in a sort of sickly greenish-gold colour, so faded I couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be green or gold. Unlike most sofas, this one had unsteady, old-fashioned wooden claws. One of the four claws was shorter than the others, and the sofa kept rocking back and forth.

“Did you know that three-legged objects never rock?” I tried to drop the hint to Dr. Rheinhardt.

He only stared at me with his eyes popping out of his face.

“Pardon me?” he said.

“Your sofa,” I pointed out.

Dr. Rheinhardt only stared at me some more. I wondered what they teach in psychology school. Did he think he was going to uncover my secrets just by staring at me? He pressed his fingertips together, forming a tent in front of his face.

“So, Annasuya... It
is
Annasuya, right? Or do you have a nickname that you habitually use? Annasuya is quite a mouthful.”

I shrugged.

“In fact, it’s actually Annasuya
Rose.
I like people to add in the ‘Rose’. But at any rate, if I
did
have a nickname, why would I tell it to you? If I had a nick, I’d only let my friends use it.”

Dr. Rheinhardt dropped his gaze and made some notes in his omnipresent notebook. I could just imagine him scrawling out something like,
“Obstinate, defiant and loony to boot.”

He stared straight at me again. I supposed he believed his gaze to be a “penetrating stare”, and perhaps he was hoping to disarm me with it. I only stared back, as oblivious to his hints as a fly.

“So, ah, Annasuya Rose. If you don’t feel like talking about it, what
do
you feel like talking about? In other words, why are you here?”

I shrugged again. I wondered if there was any way I could increment my short arsenal of gestures beyond shrugging, shrugging and more shrugs.

“I guess I came because my boyfriend told me to,” I mumbled.

Dr. Rheinhardt seized upon that.

“Ah, your boyfriend. So, you could talk about your boyfriend instead. What’s he like? How is your relationship?”

I shrugged for the third or fourth time.

“He’s okay. After all, he’s paying so I can come here. He’s gotta be pretty cool, right?”

Dr. Rheinhardt jotted some more notes.

“Okay. So he’s cool. How would you compare him to the man who attacked you?”

I glared at him.

“Are you kidding me? You’re kidding, right? There’s
no way
you can compare the two.”

I slashed through the air in front of me with my hands flat, palms down and fingers extended.

“They’re like night and day. Why do you ask?”

It was the good psychologist’s turn to shrug.

“Do you believe in synchronicities? That means that nothing ever happens by chance. That means there must have been some reason why your... attacker... showed up in your life at this point. Perhaps there’s some similarity between him and the men you like to go out with. Perhaps he even knows your boyfriend.”

My head shot up.

“There is
no way
Calvin could possibly have ever met Bruno! That’s impossible,” I cried out.

More note-taking.

“Bruno. You say your attacker’s name was Bruno.”

I nodded.

“Okay. If you’re that curious, his name was Bruno Jarvas. Happy now? Hope you don’t just happen to know him and he’s your bosom buddy or something.”

Dr. Rheinhardt sighed.

“Although you might find it hard to believe, ah, Annasuya Rose, I’m actually on your side.” His voice sounded weary. “I want to help you.”

He leaned over his desk and handed me a card.

“Call me night or day if you need me.”

*

My life was starting to return to normal. The rivers flowing back to their habitual course. The wind blowing where it was supposed to. You could almost pretend that nothing had ever happened, and Bruno Jarvas had never existed.

But I knew he existed. As long as I lived I would never,
could
never, forget him. What he did to me wasn’t something anyone could ever forget.

Calvin picked up a new project and now I rarely saw him. I had to start hustling to get back in to pick Romeo up at school on time again. When he was between projects, Calvin usually picked him up. I was grateful I had at least signed Romeo up to every after-school activity imaginable, thus giving me time to rush in from downtown after the late nights I was often asked to work.

In fact, the one thing I still hadn’t faced yet was returning to work. Walking into a totally unfamiliar and unknown environment again, and sharing an office with complete strangers. I had done this for ten years. It was part and parcel of my working life.

But that was before Bruno Jarvas.

So now, when Geri called me one day out of the blue with a new offer for me, I was terrified.

“How are you doing, Annasuya?” Her voice stumbled slightly over the words.

“I’m fine,” I told her succinctly.

“I’m sorry I hadn’t called up sooner.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. “I meant to. Really I did. I always meant to find out how you were doing. I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed more in touch with you.”

“Why?” I couldn’t help bursting out. “It’s not like you’re my older sister or something.”

There was a long, embarrassed silence on the line. I realized I’d been too harsh.

“I’m sorry, Geri,” I said at last. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not your fault. I know you’re busy.”

More awkward silence.

“Um, did you have something you wanted to ask me?” I added.

“Oh yes,” Geri gushed, almost too fast, the relief evident in her voice. “I have a new job for you. That is, if you’re interested. I know maybe it’s a bit soon...”

I nearly jumped for joy.

“No, no,” I put in hastily. “You know I told you I needed work. What is it?”

She read out the name and address of the company to me.

“It’s a really big company. Local. But big. They’ve got dozens of employees all working the same hours as you. And they’ve assured me you’ll be at a desk in the middle of the floor, surrounded by tons of people. You’ll never be alone.”

She stopped while I took note of the information.

“The only thing is...”

She hesitated. I waited patiently. At last she took the plunge.

“The only thing is, they’re only willing to pay you eight dollars an hour. I know that’s pretty low for someone with your experience but...”

Eight dollars an hour.

I hadn’t earned such a low wage since I’d first started out as the inexpert typing clerk, almost ten years ago.

“There... there wasn’t anything else for you...” Geri added glumly, since I didn’t reply. “Do you still want it?”

I came to in a flash.

“Yes. Yes. I need the work...” I mumbled, at a loss.

For a moment Geri didn’t say anything. Then she cried out, in an overly bright voice: “Okay, then. So it’s all settled, Annasuya. You start on Monday. You know what to do, the same old routine. Right?”

I nodded, even though Geri couldn’t see me, and almost let the phone tumble into its cradle by itself.

I lay on the sofa-futon and played the conversation in my mind over and over again.

“I know that’s pretty low for someone with your experience...”

I knew she was talking about work experience. But I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d really been referring to a completely different class of experience.