The Siren's Tale (38 page)

In the aftermath of the siren's tale, through the long hours and days of waiting, I play my zither to entertain my family.

Early on Thursday, I quietly use my power of telekinesis and move the traveling cloak to a wood peg outside my old bedroom door, where Marlena is sleeping, late into the afternoon. I have foreseen the cloak will be needed urgently and soon.

What will be the story's effect? It goes without saying for myself, but we are all breathless with anticipation. Even Faith, who at Chloe's invitation and
Marlena's urging has moved from the Howard Johnson's motel to Mill's Creek, is suspending her disbelief in our methods.

Will
Marlena immediately show the change of heart we so desperately need? Or will we have to endure beyond our reunion the threat of our extinction?

I predict the matter will come to a head during the Christmas Fire Night Ball on Sunday night, when all parties will be at the table.

Chloe says, “We must bide our time patiently, as a modern-day siren exercises the hard-won option of a woman to choose.”

Faith is praying on her rosary beads; they spin on her fingers like dervishes.

Later in the day, Marlena makes a move that does not bode well for our cause. She sneaks back into the hotel, where Drake's lesbian secretary, Carlotta, tells Marlena that her boss is at home and Lila is in New Gillette, having a spa treatment. Now Marlena is truly desperate to break the news of her pregnancy to Harry. She ingeniously draws a page from our script. She gets the bright idea of bursting into Drake's Roost in the guise of the Native American hotel housekeeping manager, supposedly with an emergency to report. She will tell the guard and the doorman that there has been a walkout at the hotel by the maids, and the phone lines have been cut.

She cannot wait to see
Harry's expression, how surprised he will be when he sees her in her Sacajawea costume
.

But the element of surprise, it turns out, is entirely at
Marlena's expense.

When the turbaned butler opens the massive door, Marlena sails through, the long braids on her black wig bouncing.

She is confident the masquerade will be
her most clever and daring move ever. After they have had a good laugh together, she and Harry can hash things out.

But the butler says Mr. Drake is not at home, and he will fetch Mrs. Drake.

Lila now stands in the foyer, regarding the visitor with curiosity. “Hmmm, you say there is an Indian uprising at the hotel. Well, I can't say that Harry doesn't deserve it. But I'm afraid you have made your trip through the tundra for nothing, hon. You probably passed Harry on the road. What a shame.”

“
Sorry to disturb, Mrs. Drake.”

“
You know, you have the most amazing eyes I've ever seen on a Native American. What is your name, again, girlie?”

“
Nevada Carson.”

“
Pretty name. I've been meaning to hire some of your people to entertain my house guests. Ritual dancing, that sort of thing. Do you know of anyone I could contact?”

“
No, I don’t, ma’am. I have never lived on the reservation.”

“
You don’t have the look of it.”

Lila's eyes sweep
over Marlena’s face and figure. A look of suspicion crosses her beautiful face.

What she has to do is
hold on tight, Marlena thinks frantically, and get the hell out of here as fast as possible. She presses on her breastbone and is relieved to see the gay butler obey her prompting and march to the door. He opens it with a flourish. Simultaneously the Wyoming wind blows up a furious gust that hits and almost bowls him over. In trying to right himself, Alexander stumbles against Marlena, who already has murmured a hurried goodbye and is halfway out the door.

“
Oh God, mith, I’m tho thorry!”

In the accidental clash of bodies, a
flashy ring on Alexander's plump pinkie gets enmeshed in a long black braid of Marlena's wig. Reflexively he pulls his hand away.  The wig tilts to the right. Out tumble long, floating feathers of curly, red-gold hair. They hover in the air dramatically, like exclamation points. 

There is a moment of silence as
Marlena looks downward with an expression of desperation. Lila is standing akimbo, frowning, hands on hips.

“
Let’s cut through the crap, girlie. I know who you are. What in hell are you trying to pull off here, Ms. Marlena Bellum?”

“
I came to see Harry.”

“
Seems like you were willing to make quite the fool of yourself to get to him.”

Lila, pacing, looks
to Marlena like a movie queen of old, with the litheness of Joan Crawford and the sultriness of Bette Davis. When Lila whirls around to face her rival, Marlena's cheeks are on fire.

“
Not as Johnny on the spot as he used to be, is he?” says Lila.

“
Pardon me?”

Marlena's
eyes flash, drop away, then come back. The two sirens stare at each other. Finally, Lila breaks the silence.

“
Where do we go from here?”

“
I’ll take my leave, Mrs. Drake. Sorry to intrude. Goodbye.”

“
Not so fast,” says Lila. “What were you coming to tell Harry? Why the getup?”

Marlena
holds out the wig as though it were a piece of evidence in a court of law. “This is my costume for a party I’m about to attend. I’m sorry to be…I know it looks…weird.”

Lila shakes her head.
“Nothing at the hotel could be so important for you to undertake such a daring ploy. Must be personal.”

“
Isn't everything?”

Lila shrugs
.

“
Okay, you win. My mother is in town, and there is family business I must attend to. When you came out instead of Harry, I panicked. In point of fact, there is no labor trouble at the hotel, and the phone lines aren't cut. I made that up. It is just that…well, there are some important events this week I won’t be covering for Harry as I—I usually do. I wanted to ask him for a personal leave of absence.”

It was the best she could do under pressure. T
he expression on Lila’s face indicates the lie is not passing muster.

In
Marlena's head, though, something she just said is ringing true for herself. Indeed she wants an extended leave of absence from her duties at the hotel, where all she does is wait for Harry!

“
Yeah, you cover for him all right.” Lila laughs. “You’ve made yourself into quite the little slave. But it hasn’t done you one bit of good, has it? What do you have to show for your loyalty, girlie?”

“
I prefer not to discuss my private life. It has nothing to do with you.”

“
Ha! That's a good one!” Lila sweeps back her glossy black hair from one side of her face. The motion pulls up onto her delicate neck-bones an Elsa Peretti gold heart necklace, an item Marlena and Harry looked at together in Tiffany's at South Coast Plaza. Marlena knows it was to have been her Christmas present from Harry. And yet he has given it to Lila instead. Her heart sinks like a lead lump.

“
So, what’s the matter now? Tell the truth, Bellum.”

Marlena
feels an inexplicable urge to confess all her troubles to the beautiful, emerald-eyed enemy, but instead, she regurgitates her late lunch in a jerky stream. Pure, projectile vomiting arcs into the air and splatters directly onto the Oriental carpet, about six inches from Lila’s silver-slippered feet.

“
Fuck me!”

She spit
s.

There i
s a long silence. The only sound is the butler talking to himself as he scrambles down the hallway en route to the kitchen for a mop.

“
Better sit down for a minute, hon,” says Lila quietly. “You don’t look so good.” She puts an arm around Marlena's shoulders, which are visibly shaking.

“
I am fine. I do apologize. Do you have a rag? Let me clean this up before I go.” Marlena is wiping furiously at her chin with a trembling hand. “Please, don’t look at me,” she moans.

“
Alexander will be back in a minute, and he’ll take care of everything. Just sit.”

“
Oh, I wouldn’t want him to…”

“
No sweat. He was a nurse in Vietnam.”

“
Please, just let me go home.”

M
arlena breaks away and makes it to the door, where she struggles to prevail against the wind and the weight of the massive door. She gets it open halfway, and then she collapses. Lila springs forward, slams the door shut, and helps her up.

“
Take it easy, kid. What's the rush? I don't bite. Follow me, this way.”

S
upporting Marlena with one arm and leading her with the other, Lila takes her into the largest reception room Marlena has ever seen. Under its domed ceiling of painted cherubs, there are two white grand pianos, surrounded by potted palm trees and plush seating. At one end of the cavernous room is an alabaster bar rivaling B. L. Zebub in size—though it cannot compare, loyal Marlena thinks ferociously, in its character.

Pushing
Marlena into an armchair, Lila gingerly removes her guest's jacket, which is covered in vomitus. She tosses it onto a marble side table.

“
There, that’s better.”

Lila peers at
Marlena with an expression that is curiously friendly. “I have to say, you totally remind me of my kid sister. She has that waist-length, frizzy mop of hair like you do, only hers is black, and Marty’s eyes are boiled green. She is a Wiccan. One Halloween she dressed up as Lady Godiva and rode naked through Harvard Square. God, how I miss her.” Lila sighs. “I miss out on everything, living in this godforsaken place. Why do I stay? Why do you, kid? We could do a lot better. I heard you have a good job in San Francisco and used to have a perfectly good husband before you got hung up on Harry.”

Marlena
tries to stand. “Gotta go.”

“
Sit down,” Lila commands. “Listen, kid, I am not your enemy. Let’s say we call a truce for today, longer if you want. But you are not leaving here until I am sure you won’t die on the road.”

Marlena
slumps back in the chair. “Is that what passes for noblesse oblige in your set, Mrs. Drake?”

Lila brushes off the
remark. “You grew up here, didn’t you? Is it true your father's mother came from one of the native families?”

Marlena
nods, too weary to resist her antagonist's questioning. “Sara Bellum was a Scattergood. When I was eight, we moved East, where my mother’s family lived.”

“
Pity you didn’t stay in the East. Oh, I don’t mean because of Harry. Your talents are wasted here. There is so much more to do in Boston, New York, or Miami—the theater and the ballet, all the parties before and after.”

“
I never saw the ballet. We lived in the suburbs of Cleveland, in Parma Heights.”

“
Oh, dear, how terrible for you.” Lila laughs, but without malice. “Poor baby. Then charismatic Harry came along, and you were snake-bit. You've got it bad.”

Marlena
is wiping her face with the handkerchief Lila has handed her. She is bristling, but she is also listening.

“
Honey, I've got news for you. Those fancy connections, the partnerships with moguls of industry he has impressed you with? They come through my family, not his. Harry is your classic big fish in a small pond, only mean and coldblooded as a snake.”

Marlena
feels too weak to rise to her lover's defense.

“
I hope you don’t imagine you are the only one he consoled himself with, after I went off to do my own thing. There were three before you came along. Two others that I know of in the past six months. But you’ve hung in there like snot; I’ll give you that much.”

“
May I go now please?”

Marlena
feels indignant and dizzy. And yet she cannot resist being fascinated by the enemy.

“
Are you feeling any better?”

“
I feel fine. Truly I do.”

“
Then you can go.”

“
I’ll see my way out.”

“
Oh, Marlena.”

“
Yes?”

“
Harry and I have agreed to go cold turkey on the extra-curricular activities over the holidays. I would appreciate your backing off while we give peace a chance.” Lila laughs at Marlena's blank expression.

“
However, between us girls, I am looking for a way out of this rock-pile without losing everything I put into it, which is a lot. Harry is better at taking than giving. It will take some doing for me to get rid of him. I don't have a child to hold over his head; my uterus is heart-shaped, so no dice. Harry is no Prince Charming, hon, but if you want him that bad, well, maybe we can work something out between the two of us. Capiche?”