Wild (18 page)

“Well, it’s complicated. And besides, we work together, so I can’t just jump him. What if he says no? Imagine how awkward that would be!” She was all excuses.

“Since when does that bother you?” I continued probing. Carmela wasn’t exactly what one would call shy. On the contrary, she was probably the most forward woman I knew.

“I can’t just flash him my boobs. He’s not the kind of guy who goes for that sort of thing,” she blurted out.

My eyes involuntarily went to her chest. She certainly did have a nice body. I had always been a little jealous about that. Her breasts were at least a cup-size larger than mine.

“You’d be surprised what some guys go for,” I said and laughed.

She waved me off. “That coming from you just doesn’t sound right. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?”

“I’m fine. So how’s it going with Ben then?” I didn’t want her to come back to me as the primary subject.

She looked at me, a little sheepishly.

“We started seeing each other after you guys split, just so you know.” She checked for my reaction. I didn’t care either way.

“He’s actually kind of nice once you get to know him. And reasonable in bed, but then you know.”

“Actually, I don’t. We didn’t get that far.” I was glad about it in retrospect, and it seemed Carmela was pleased about that fact too. Having shared the same lover would have been just too creepy.

“Oh, well, anyway. Considering I can’t get Sebastian, he’s quite ok.”

I was glad she decided not to go into any more details than necessary.

“What’s your new roommate like?”

“She’s ok. A little boring maybe, but she’s tidy and quiet. She’s a student at SFU.”

“I’m sure it won’t take you long to convert her to your lifestyle.”  Carmela had a way of introducing people to her way of living which made it hard to say no. While she was definitely a clean freak around the flat, she was also a party girl.

“Give me a few weeks.” She laughed.

“So, any chance of reconciliation?” She was back on her favorite subject: my love life.

I shook my head vehemently. No, it had to be over. He was a crook, a con artist, a cheat, a liar.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Shame, though. He sure was a hottie.” She took our empty salad plates and put them into the sink. “I’ll do dishes later.”

She looked at the calendar which hung on her fridge.

“Oh, I forgot. It’s Cinco de Mayo today! We should go and watch the festivities. What do you say?”

“Sure, where do you want to go?” I was a little worried about my leg and didn’t feel like walking too much.

“Let’s take the J-Church to Dolores Park. We can hang out there. There’s always something going on, I’m sure.” She packed a few bottles of water and a blanket into a small backpack and off we were. I appreciated that she walked slowly as we made our way to the bus stop.

“Didn’t you think it was kind of strange that he took you to his home rather than the hospital?”

Was she still on the same subject? I threw her a cautioning look.

“I mean, especially, since he didn’t even take advantage of the situation,” she qualified. She could be a bit of a nag when she wanted to get to the bottom of things. And subtlety was unknown to her. So I humored her.

“Sure it was a little odd at first, but he was so professional about it. He took care of my wounds and, he was such a gentleman.” I recalled in my mind how he had made sure I could take a shower on my own.

“So, what changed?” Still the same question. She wanted to know. I could tell it bugged her that I hadn’t revealed my reason yet.

“Oh,” I looked outside the bus window. “Isn’t that our stop?” It was. We had to transfer to the streetcar. I could tell Carmela was annoyed I hadn’t answered yet.

The streetcar was just pulling to the stop as we got across the street. It was packed and I was glad. It would give me a reprieve from Carmela’s questions.

Hordes of people got off at Dolores Park and I was surprised we managed to find a spec of grass on which to spread out our blanket and sit down. We had managed to get a spot near the top of the park which afforded fabulous views over the City. It was sunny and the view into downtown was breathtaking.

“It’s gorgeous here.”

“Beats Des Moines, doesn’t it?” she asked. I hated to be reminded. “Are you sure you want to go back?” I was surprised she asked me. She of all people knew better than anybody that I had tried hard enough and not succeeded.

“No, but I have to. There’s nothing here for me.”

I saw from the corner of my eye that she raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. She had finally given up.

We watched the music groups and dance groups dressed in their traditional Latino dress perform. People had brought picnics, some had even brought barbeques and I could smell the scent of grilled meat in my nose. Families had brought their kids and dogs and were enjoying the sunny day.

I took a gulp from the water Carmela had brought, when I heard a dog growl not far from me. I turned to see what was going on. It took me only seconds to realize what was wrong.

A three year old boy stood about three yards away from a pit bull type dog and held a dog toy in his tiny hand. I knew instinctively what had happened. Somebody had thrown the dog toy for the dog to fetch and the boy had found it. How long would it take for the dog to lunge at the child?

There was no time to think. I moved fast, grabbing the boy with both arms and dragging him behind me. I ignored his cries, which alerted not only Carmela next to me but also his parents who were a few yards away from us. I couldn’t see their reactions as I concentrated on the dog. He had focused his attention on me and fletched his sharp teeth at me. Where was his owner?

I lowered my eyes, while I spoke very quietly to him.

“Everything is ok. You’re a good dog. Nobody wants to take your toy.”

He still growled.

“You’re a good dog,” I repeated. “You don’t want to hurt anybody.”

The dog looked at me and suddenly tilted its head. I reached behind me and in the same quiet voice gave Carmela instructions.

“Carmela, give me the toy.”

I felt the slimy dog toy in my hand a second later and brought it in front of me. On my knees I moved forward very slowly and placed the toy in front of the now calmer dog.

“It’s yours, take it.” I encouraged him. He snapped at it, turned and ran off.

The boy behind me was still crying. His parents ran to him as soon as the dog was gone. The woman pulled him into his arms and comforted him. Her husband looked at me.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nothing happened.”

“Thanks to you.” He shook my hand with both of his. “Thank you.”

As they took their boy back to their space, I could hear her accusatory voice.

“I thought you were watching him …”

I turned back to Carmela who had her mouth open.

“What are you? Some sort of dog whisperer or what?”

It was the same word Vince had used – whisperer. I wasn’t an animal whisperer.

“I just have an easier time dealing with animals than with people,” I said aloud. “That’s all. And besides, the dog just wanted his toy back.”

“Oh, and you knew that?” She sounded sarcastic.

“Well everybody could have seen that,” I defended my reasoning. It really wasn’t that hard to guess what the dog wanted. It was just common sense.

She shook her head and gave up. I stretched out on the blanket and let the warm sun shine on my face. Carmela did the same and for a while we just laid there not talking. I let my thoughts go back to Vince and the way he had looked at me before I had stormed out: guilty, but also pained.

Was everything a lie? His kisses? His touch? His voice? His eyes, the way he had looked at me as if looking into my soul? Which part was real and which was a lie? I couldn’t believe I had been so wrong in trusting him. Was I really such an easy target?

I remembered he had told me there would be things I wouldn’t like about him. Why hadn’t I headed his warnings?

I wanted him to have an explanation for what he had done, but since I couldn’t come up with one myself, I couldn’t believe he had one that would be plausible. He was a mystery to me, one I wouldn’t solve.

I hadn’t told him where I was going, so there was no way he could even try to explain himself. He didn’t even know what my last name was.

He wasn’t the knight in shining armor who would suddenly show up and explain all my doubts away and sweep me up into his arms. It wasn’t going to happen. It was final.

“Annette, are you sleeping?” Carmela’s voice pierced through my thoughts.

“No, just thinking.”

“Why did you cry when you left him? I mean, I’ve never seen you cry for any of the other guys, not even when they dumped you.” She was very perceptive.

“The others didn’t mean anything to me.”

“And he did? After only what, two, three days?”

“Why do you want to know?” I tried to deflect her question.

“I think it might have been fate that brought you together, and you shouldn’t mess with fate.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in all this stuff about things that are meant to be. It’s pretty ridiculous.”

She didn’t probe any further, but only gave me a strange look.

The afternoon drew to a close and we packed up. It was a challenge to get back onto the streetcar, since everybody had decided to leave at the same time.

Carmela had gotten quiet and I appreciated it. I had told her enough about my troubles and didn’t want to give her any more details. She was a good person, but there were things I wanted to keep to myself.

We cooked burgers for dinner and ate in front of the TV. Carmela’s roommate dropped her head in briefly. She was close to my age and relatively shy. After a quick hello and listening to Carmela tell her I would be sleeping on the couch for a couple of nights she retreated back to her room.

“See what I mean?” Carmela asked after she had left.

“Don’t worry, she’ll warm up and be fun … one day.” I laughed.

“Your word in God’s ear,” she said skeptically and started yawning.

“I’m really tired today.”

I looked at the clock. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet.

“You know where the sheets and the spare blankets are, so help yourself. And there are new toothbrushes under the sink.” She got up.

“Thanks so much. Sleep tight.” I said as she left the living room. I wasn’t tired yet. I dreaded going to sleep. It would only bring back thoughts about Vince. So I decided to continue watching TV.

14. Vince’s Knowledge

I had to think, so I jumped into the car and sped through the City. It was night and quiet even for a Monday. I let the car’s engine rev up as I raced up Twin Peaks taking the sharp curves without slowing down. The last time I had come up here had been with Annette and my driving had been a lot gentler. I wasn’t in a gentle mood tonight. In fact, I was in a foul mood.

I hadn’t gotten any further in my search for who had leaked my research notes.

I wondered for a brief second if it was even important to know how it had happened, and decided it was. If I didn’t know who had done it, how could I ever be sure Entwhistle was the only one with this information?

What if somebody else would come out of the woodworks a few years down the road, after I had destroyed Entwhistle and start up again? I couldn’t risk that.

I parked the car and got out. As always a few cars were parked near the observation area. I walked past the street light under which I had kissed Annette for the first time. I paused for a fraction of a second letting the sweet memory of that moment rush through me.

I didn’t regret my actions of that night. I hadn’t pushed her into anything she hadn’t wanted. She had been too willing a participant in that passionate kiss.

I walked to the wall and stood there looking down at the City, its lights and its darkness. Somewhere amongst those lights lay my destiny.

I wondered what somebody like Entwhistle would be thinking right now. Did he have a conscience? Did he know what he was doing to those people, the danger he was putting the City in? Did his wife know what he was doing? I couldn’t imagine it.

What woman who loved her husband could still love him when she found out what evil he was causing? I had seen how little it took to lose someone’s love.

As I stared down at the City, a wedding party arrived. The bride and groom were elegantly dressed. They were accompanied by what seemed to be their respective parents. I could overhear them talking.

One of the older men put his arm on the groom’s shoulder.

“Let me show you something.” He pulled him to one of the viewing glasses and put a coin in it. He first calibrated it, looked through it, then pointed for the groom to look through it.

“The piece of land you’re looking at, that’s my daughter’s dowry.” The old man said.

The groom stared at the man and instantly hugged him.

“Thank you! Christine!” he called out to his bride.

She smiled at him.

“Did you know that?”

She nodded.

She knew about her father’s gift. They started taking photos. The flash went off several times. Wedding photos.

I remembered the wedding photo I had recently seen. It was Entwhistle’s. It had been on his desk in his home office. I recalled the photo in my mind: bride, groom, bridesmaids, groomsmen and the man in his seventies.

I knew now who he reminded me of: somebody I had worked with back in ’78. He had been my lab manager. I had fired him for incompetence a month before my transformation. His name was Jeffrey Rosenschmid.

I ran to the car. I needed confirmation. It felt like the ride home took forever. As I rushed to my computer I was almost sure I had the right guy.

My fingers flew over the keyboard as I ran my search. I found the wedding license. Entwhistle and his wife had gotten married in San Francisco. There was her maiden name: Rosenschmid.

My former lab manager was Entwhistle’s father-in-law. My research papers had been her dowry. Now I understood. Jeffrey had been angry with me when I had decided to let him go, but as UCSF’s bureaucracy went, I had to keep him for a few months longer than I really wanted to, which gave him ample opportunity to copy all my notes.