The World of the End (32 page)

“Then you started going out, and I take it it was clear cut from the very beginning.”

“Not at all. We argued nonstop on our first date. About books, records, movies, politics. Everything under the sun.”

“And the second date?”

“Kept on arguing. About things that would seem stupid to others.”

“Like…?”

“We tried to guess the names of the songs on Morrissey’s next album.”

“What?”

“I knew you wouldn’t get it. And I don’t mean that condescendingly. We just realized that we inhabited the same mental realms but that our opinions clashed. Right from the start we both had the feeling that we knew each other. There was no initial tension.”

“So how did you fall in love?”

“I don’t know. I think we skipped straight over that part. We loved each other from the start. As though the falling in love part was a minor detail in the past. And we knew we were fascinated by one another. We just didn’t waste time with games and stuff.”

“And what about the thrill that you have at the beginning of a relationship?”

“Oh, believe me we felt it. Marian thrilled me with the crossword puzzles she crafted especially for me, and I returned the favor with endings I wrote just for her, inserting them in the books she was reading. We were thrilled when we met other couples whose conversations had run dry and we were still arguing incessantly, we were thrilled when we didn’t notice the time pass and we were the last ones left in a restaurant, we were thrilled when we went for walks and got lost, we were thrilled each time we got into bed and each time we got out of it. And we were thrilled most of all when we realized there was no sense in living apart.”

“But how did you know she was the one?”

“Did you have an imaginary friend when you were a kid?”

“Yes.”

“Right, so did I, but at some point around puberty he disappeared. Then around a month after I met Marian I felt like he had come back to me in female form. That feeling you get that someone’s watching you, when you’re shocked, when you’re happy, when you’re mad, when you’re put down, that feeling that someone’s always with you even when you’re alone, that’s Marian.”

“I’m dying to meet her.”

“I died to meet her, and it still hasn’t happened. Marian’s disappeared. I’ve been looking for her for two weeks and…”

“Is it possible she doesn’t want to be found?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have no idea what was going on between the two of you, but women don’t just go flying off Ferris wheels. If anything, they plunge to their deaths.”

“There’s no way in hell Marian committed suicide. The notion is absurd.”

“What about if you just rest your wounded ego for a second and think logically: Couldn’t there be some things you didn’t know about?”

“You don’t even know her.”

“So what. I’m way too familiar with the feeling of loss and shock that comes with sudden abandonment, and I’m terribly familiar with people’s unwillingness to accept hard facts.”

“Who’re we talking about here?”

“You, Ben, you. You look like a modern day Job, pawing uselessly at your wounds.”

“You’re starting to sound like some kind of mad preacher.”

“Cynicism isn’t going to save you here. Maybe it’s just hard for you to handle the awful fact that you committed suicide in vain.”

“The fact that I can’t find her does not mean that she feels differently about me.”

“I think you have blind faith in the love of a woman who’s left you.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Pricking and prying, trying to pull the rug out from under me.”

“Because you mean so much to me.”

“If I mean so much to you, I’d expect you to show some support. Not that it matters much anyway.”

“That’s insulting.”

“I didn’t say a thing.”

“But you were going to.”

“True. I was going to say that when one’s been through the trials of abandonment as many times as you have, one might find it rather enjoyable to project their own emotional baggage on the man who first hexed one’s relationship karma.”

“Now you’re just being a kid, trying on words for size.”

“Aren’t the parallels you keep reaching for a bit childish? Might it not feel a little too good to learn that the wife of the man you first loved left him and then you met him and showed him the light? I guess for you it would be the perfect closure for the story that had never come full circle.”

“God, you’ve grown so arrogant with age if you think I’m using this to further my own agenda.”

“Keren, do us both a favor and give the saint routine a rest. It doesn’t take superhuman insight to see that you’re pretty damn pleased with the way things have played themselves out.”

“Understanding your current predicament, I’ll ignore your insults for now and just ask you a question: Why do you think we met?”

“Because we thought we’d be bettered by a higher education, I guess.”

“Not back then. Why do you think we met again in the Other World, and why in a manner so similar…?”

“Come on, Keren, you know contrived symbolism makes me sick.”

“Contrived?”

“It might work for a Hollywood flick, but thankfully reality is more independent and low budget. Only the really far-gone cling to coincidence and assign meaning to whatever suits their needs at the time. That’s why they’re called coincidences, don’t you think? As far as I’m concerned, the fact that you and I crossed paths is exactly as significant as the fact that Marian and I haven’t.”

“But if the two of you were just walking down the street and happened to bump into each other and then got back together, you’d have a good time telling everyone that fate brought you back into each other’s arms.”

“Not fate, but the unavoidable necessity of being together.”

“I won’t split hairs with you. It’s abundantly clear to both of us that you’re in a state of deep denial.”

“That’s it! This is too weird for me. I’m arguing with my ex about my chances of finding my wife in tones that are already doing a pretty good job of reminding me why we broke up in the first place.…”

“I apologize if I got carried away, Ben. I guess I just had a lot to get off my chest. You have no idea how truly happy I am to see you.”

“And I to see you.”

*   *   *

Looking around, Ben realized they’d covered a lot of ground while arguing and that he had no idea where he was.

Keren pointed at the skyscraper to his left. “Come.”

“Not sure that’s a good idea…,” he said, holding his tongue at the touch of her soft finger on his lips and the sight of her still-beautiful face.

“Don’t worry,” she said.

The string quartet welcomed them with a smile and, as the elevator doors closed, the slow pour of music began. Ben tried to tame the thoughts that came to his mind, but the years truly had been kind to his first real girlfriend, and he found himself unable to keep his eyes off her smooth body, rounded and shaped by time. Watching her graceful movements, he tried to push back the creeping calculations about when last he had been with a woman, while, at the same time, scenes from his university days flashed through his mind and he recollected how they had gotten wrapped up in the distinct joys of sexual discovery, and that, he reminded himself glumly, was back when the body by his side was angular and inexperienced. He contemplated the peaks of pleasure she was capable of now that she had matured into full-fledged womanhood. A dangerous tiredness descended on him, threatening to eat away all that remained of the tenacious resistance he had exhibited hours earlier. He exchanged a limp half smile with Keren’s bothersome reflection.

Ben hesitated before stepping out of the elevator, surprised to find that they had come to a stop on the expansive rooftop and not at Keren’s apartment. He smiled questioningly, and she nodded in understanding, ambling over to the edge.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She held out her hand for him and waited patiently while he gathered the courage, taking her hand lightly, their fingertips grazing each other. Standing next to her on the edge, he felt his head start to swim and he tightened his grip. At the sight of the city spread beneath his feet, Ben locked his knees and asked to retreat.

Keren held his hand tightly and brought her warm lips to his ear. “Don’t be afraid, my darling,” she whispered. But Ben’s fear had advanced from near paralysis to organ-shaking shudders. She brought him in close. Ben shut his eyes and inhaled the sweet warmth of her body, rubbing her back as the rise and fall of his chest merged with the swell of her breasts, burying his head in her fragrant neck, traveling up and down the artery of life, pausing by her locked lips, glancing against them and reveling as they opened, revealing a gleaming cavern, her thirsty tongue flitting against his lips, a serpentine seduction, teasing his tongue into a lover’s game, which, when answered, was cut short as his excitement mounted. He pulled away from the comforting body, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Keren, I can’t…”

Keren, looking like she’d been awakened from an enchanted dream, looked at him crossly and moaned, “Can’t you be untrue to her just this once?”

“It’s myself I’d be cheating on,” Ben said.

Keren nodded, her eyes welling up. “Have I already told you that you’re every woman’s dream?”

A colossal tremor went through the building.

“What was that? Don’t tell me they have earthquakes in this place, too.”

“No, darling, what they’ve got are monstrous elevators that sometimes get stuck.”

“The elevator’s stuck?” he asked.

“I didn’t know you were in a hurry…?”

“Well, when there’s no choice…,” Ben said, shrugging.

She burst out laughing as he headed toward the door. “You’re not seriously thinking about walking down twenty-four flights of stairs,” she said.

“Like I said, when there’s no choice…”

“But there is a choice.”

“I’m not…,” he said before he understood her meaning and then added, “You don’t mean…”

“Trust me, you don’t know what you’re missing. I do it at least twice a week. The perfect catharsis for a miserable day.” Looking at his incredulous expression, she added, “And if that’s not enough, just think of it as an opportunity to relive Marian’s last moments, as much as possible.”

“As much as possible?”

“If you wanted the really authentic version of events, I guess you’d have to introduce terror into the equation.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of terror.”

“Well, that’s just because you’re newly dead. Believe me, as soon as you get used to this place you’ll forget what fear is. You have to learn to utilize the upside of death.”

“Like jumping off a twenty-four-story building?”

“Here, watch,” she said, pointing to three nearby buildings, each capped with a waving teenage boy about to take the plunge.

Keren walked right up to the edge of the roof, spread her arms sideways like wings, and called into the wind, “Just don’t look down.”

Ben approached the edge cautiously, Kolanski’s trembling stance on the cloud foremost in his mind. He took a step back, imagined Marian’s last moments, readdressed the edge, closed his eyes, and jumped a split second after Keren, her laugh still trailing behind her.

The initial dread that seized him when he dared open his eyes turned hypnotically tranquil when he realized he was hovering between the sky and the ground. A silence enveloped him during his virgin flight, and he saw nothing through his slit eyes but the image of his missing wife, his body drifting down, weightless, an irrational smile plastered across his face, finally understanding what Keren meant when she said it was the ultimate catharsis. The events of the past few days receded into the spreading quiet. The freedom was incomparable. His soul was liberated of everything beyond the soothing thought that if man can fly, he is truly all-capable. Prompted by untethered optimism, he bellowed Marian’s name. Even when the call went unanswered, he persisted, certain that though they were flying through separate skies, one way or another their paths would cross. The free fall continued for an additional minute before the black blotches on the ground sprang to life, and Ben realized that the flight was about to end when he was able to discern male from female. As they made their way to and from their modern dens, they didn’t bother to look up at the man rocketing down among them till he shrieked, flailed with his arms and legs, and impacted with a dull thud in the midfield of a soccer pitch, much to the chagrin of both teams.

Opening his eyes, Ben, encircled by kids, couldn’t understand why he heard a woman’s voice in his ear. “Ben? Ben Mendelssohn?”

He remembered the telefinger when one of the kids pointed at the glowing red light on his godget. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Of course it’s you,” the woman replied, “I called you. Listen, it’s Marilyn.”

“Marilyn?” he said, scattering the kids with a brusque series of hand movements, “Oh, oh, Ms. Monroe?”

“Yes, hon. I’m sorry to be so direct but I’m late for a show and there’s an old couple here holding me up. They’re looking for Maria.”

“Marian?” he shouted.

“Yeah, Marian. I can’t explain everything to them right now but they’re dying to see you.”

“Wait a second, who?”

“They say they’re her parents.”

“Tell them I’ll meet them at my place in an hour … I live in June 2001, Circle twenty-one, Building M, Floor twenty-four, Apartment seven.”

*   *   *

Reinvigorated, Ben trotted off the field and headed toward the nearest multi-wheel. Then he suddenly stopped, looked up at the darkening sky and clapped himself on the forehead. He searched around for Keren. After a while he spotted a leg sticking out of a bush on the far periphery of the park. He ran toward her. She was flat on her back, eyes half open, full blown befuddlement all over her tired face, and a frail, hallucinative smile hanging from her lips.

“Keren, you alright?” he asked, leaning over her.

“One more time and I’m there,” she said in a drowsy voice.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, bringing his head close to her moving lips.

“There … it’s better … darling…”