Sub Rosa, page 16
First skirted around him to the microphone. The audience leaned forward in unison as she spoke. “Hello, beautiful ones, let me just take a moment to look at you,” First called out, shielding her eyes from the spotlight with her queenly hand. “As a matter of fact, have a look around you right now. Take a moment to notice your fair friends and neighbours in this room.” As instructed, the crowd turned to each other with smiles and nods. Men shook hands. Cheeks were kissed. Little did they know First was simply buying me time to survey the room, to chart my plan of action. “Thank you, all of you for coming to this auspicious occasion. Little is a precious wonder, as some of you already have the pleasure of knowing. Now, she is a modest girl, though I bet you all could persuade her to come say a few words.” She adjusted the mic to my height as the crowd broke into heavy applause. Arsen went to help her, a little too late, and I began my speech with First at my side.
The microphone hissed as I too eagerly snatched it up. Before I had even spoken a word, my lower lip grazed the mic head; I saw a smear of fuchsia pink lipstick on the metal mesh and took a deep breath.
“My Daddy, Arsen, has plainly retold my story. I am humbly without secrets in this room full of good people,” I said, hoping I sounded sincere, hoping more so that Arsen would be taken aback by my crafted speech. He was about to be outdone. “I will only speak to these unhappy truths for a brief moment, if you’ll hear me. There is no denying the link between indulging city ills and sorrow. I am most pleased to have reformed my ways and to be able to offer you my purest service. But there is something Arsen has left unsaid.” Phantom hand drifted across the stage and slipped into the crowd. I needed a minute to blush and bat my eyelashes and stall while I got it under control.
“You see, all my life I’ve felt very alone. It seems odd that in a big city full of people I could feel this way. I suppose we all feel alone sometimes?” No one bit the bait; my question went unanswered. “I suppose we’ve all felt alone sometimes, alone and untouchable.” For effect, my voice quavered on the word “untouchable,” and to my relief, a few murmurs of affinity rose up. “No one should have to be alone, am I right?” I heard a few calls of agreement, a “hear, hear” and a “yes.”
“It’s because of all of you in this very room that I am finally a part of something. Something truly wonderful.” Another “hear, hear” echoed at the back of the room. Encouraged, I spoke a little louder. “Perhaps it was because I came to Sub Rosa a virgin, unloved, untouched, that when I finally found my way here, to be sublimely touched by all of you, I found my Glory magic. The magic of shared touch. And if you’ll only let me, I promise to touch you just like you’ve all touched me.”
This is where my plan unfolded. I started touching people. I ran phantom hand along the curve of a live one’s earlobe so that he shivered. Next, I traced a shirt collar, undid a top button with ease. “If you believe, reach out your hands and receive it.” Hands shot out around the room. I rubbed a phantom finger in many wide-set palms. And bolder still, the inseam of finely pressed pants. “Praise be,” someone shouted, “I feel you right now, Little.”
“I feel it too. Glory be,” someone else echoed. Soon I had the whole party squirming and gasping. I even chanced a quick feel up the Dowager’s petticoats. She made a sound like a cat being squeezed. I could picture it all—how endless live ones would come for me to be touched by an unseen hand. “Touched by love itself,” I shouted. In the corner of my eye I saw Arsen’s chin-trembling false grin. Phantom hand tapped the bottom of his chin and his mouth clamped swiftly shut.
“Above all else, I’d like to thank my First, Della O’Kande,” I said to rub Arsen’s nose in it. “She has taught me so much, and also my Second …” I didn’t know Second’s Glory name. I almost called her Jill, but I caught myself. Birth names were never used on Sub Rosa. Besides, an ordinary name like Jill might have cheapened my speech. I scanned the room hoping to point her out in the absence of a name. It seemed too late to just cut the sentence off after Second. People smiled at me, seeming to urge me on. Others began to glance around them for Second.
“Where are they?” First held her hand across her forehead as a shield from the stage lights overhead as she searched the room. “I told Treasure Anne to make sure she was here for your speech.”
Time can pass in a warped chronology on Sub Rosa; the actions of one live one can blend into the fleeting words of another and then blend again into Glory-talk gossip. Fine details are easily changed or forgotten. The night of my party, however, the details came together like the closely shouldered men in the crowded Mayflower Ballroom. I remembered the caller’s voice over the pay phone desperate with need. My Treasure. I’m taking you away. Saturday. This was what the phone call in Advent Alley was all about. If I was right, the caller had planned to meet Ling’s Second tonight.
The only thing to do then was cry some beauty pageant tears before rushing off the stage. Who can argue with a young woman in tears? I coughed up some parting sentiment: “I am so grateful to be here. Much love.” First ran after me, catching me by the arm as soon as we were behind the curtain.
“Ling’s Second is named Treasure?”
“Treasure Anne,” First told me. “Why?”
“A man’s come to get her.”
“What?” First said. “How you know?”
“I just know a man’s come for Treasure,” I repeated.
That was all First needed to hear to take action. “Come on.” We rushed, hand-in-hand, through the ballroom. Ling—her eyes bugging in panic—latched on to First’s other side, and the three of us swept through the dim corners of the ballroom trying not to be seen by the crowd as we searched.
“You made her weep with happiness,” I heard Arsen say before he started up another song. I hoped his choirboy voice was enough to cover up the mess.
We checked under the white table-clothed punch table. We checked backstage and both restrooms and every booth in the Mayflower Diner, and then we checked the ballroom again. Second and Treasure Anne were nowhere to be found. “Whoever came for them isn’t here anymore,” Ling cried. First guided her outside to calm her down. We stood out on Ling’s track patch for only a split-second before we noticed a red Volvo stopped in Advent Alley. The old car did everything it could to be noticed, sputtering and smoking under the hood. It had to be the caller. Before I knew what I was doing, I ran. First and Ling followed with clomping strides.
“Damn, damn, damn,” Ling repeated behind me. Our heels thundered against the pavement. I got close enough to see Treasure Anne in the passenger seat, just her—Second was still nowhere to be seen. And, as I’d anticipated, Treasure Anne wasn’t struggling. The caller hadn’t tied or gagged her. Second wasn’t whispering over her shoulder, brainwashing her. Instead, she sat nervously twirling her curly red hair around her finger. I realized this was her get-away car. She was leaving voluntarily, or at least trying to. The wisps of smoke coming from under the Volvo’s hood stank like burning oil. Treasure had been sort of nice to me, I recalled as I closed in on the car; she had put some effort into circulating my invitations, at least. Her head swung from me to the driver. I found myself slowing down, preparing what I would say when I caught up to her. The car wasn’t going anywhere. Sub Rosa had denied its entry, as well as its speedy exit. I heard the motor coughing and stalling.
The driver was a junker, too: unkempt beard, knobby shoulders. A hint of embittered bohemian style was all he had going for him. A dud in rock star clothing. Was that the ex-boyfriend the triplets were whispering about? He truly was miserable looking. Why was Treasure Anne leaving Sub Rosa for that? She was a beauty; strawberry blonde and freckles so plump I could see their rosy colour through the grimy glass. It didn’t seem right to conceal all that beauty behind a bug-splattered windshield. I mean, if she or any Glory really had to leave Sub Rosa, then they should ride away on a unicorn or something like that, with the rest of us tossing roses and waving white handkerchiefs. What kind of life would this ex-boyfriend give her? Even Nino was better than him. I reached the car; my hands slapped against the hood to stop myself from completely crashing into it. I screamed, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it. You’re making a big mistake. This guy’s a loser.” Treasure scrunched up her brow and looked over at the unfortunate-looking man beside her. This distracted her just enough not to notice Ling as she came up behind me, flung open the car door, and grabbed her. Treasure didn’t even fight; she limply rolled out of the car and let herself be dragged to the Sub Rosa side of the alley.
The driver stepped out of the car. “I’m taking her. You have no right to keep her.”
“You want her? Come get her.” Ling held Treasure in front of her like a rag doll. I felt a swift churn of nausea in my gut watching Ling be so rough. What if I had made a mistake by telling Ling about any of this? Maybe I had sabotaged Treasure Anne’s plans. But the driver was a coward. How could he possibly take care of her? He made no move, just beat on the hood of his crappy car. Several partygoers had caught up with us and stood gawking at the scene. Ling put her arm around Treasure Anne, shielding her face from the crowd.
“Do you want to go with him?” Ling asked. Her voice suddenly was kind, her breathing suddenly even. Treasure Anne’s strawberry hair clung to Ling’s cheek. “If you want to go with him, it’s your choice,” Ling said loud enough for the driver to hear. He called her name and Ling unwrapped her arms for Treasure Anne to go.
“Don’t go,” one of the onlookers pleaded.
“Come home with me instead,” said another. He waved his wallet in the air.
Treasure Anne weighed both sides briefly. Her eyes took in the man’s dirty sneakers, the smoke hovering above his car. “He was handsome once,” she said. “Or, at least I remembered him that way.” She curled back into Ling. The onlookers clapped and whistled.
“I’ll call the cops. Or the fucking mob, or whoever it will take to get her back,” the driver threatened while retreating back into his car, which turned over then without any trouble.
“Call the cops,” Ling yelled at him. “I’ll call them for you.” She walked up to the place where all this started—the pay phone—ripped the receiver clean off and used it to smash the front window of the Volvo, the driver’s shocked reaction masked by the web of cracks in the glass. The live ones cheered Ling and booed the retreating car. First put her arms around the two of them to lead them back to the party, bragging about me as they went. “It was our very own Little who saw the kidnapper coming. She’s got a touch of intuitive abilities, wouldn’t you say?” First chattered.
“We owe Treasure Anne’s safely to you, Little,” said Ling. Treasure Anne smiled at me, though the corners of her mouth trembled ever so slightly. She had a cut on her knee and had bled through her stockings. The stocking ran even more as she limped back to her track patch. Little rips of her pink skin showing through the black.
The words, “Jill’s still in there. Hiding in the back seat,” came from Treasure Anne’s trembling mouth. It took me a moment to make sense of those words. A moment later Second’s voice screeched like the Volvo’s tires on the city side of the alley. “Fuck the Rosa,” she yelled from the back seat of the get-away car. All of us—First, Ling, Treasure Anne, even the stray partygoers—swung around to see Second giving us the finger as the old car rattled away. No one yelled back. We were stunned silent.
Figures Second would ruin my party.
XV
It was a real charade having to smile and amuse guests for the rest of the party. It was worse to witness First’s forced cheerfulness as live ones talked and grabbed at her. It was enough to make me want to slap them away with phantom hand. But, exhausted, I barely had the concentration to see phantom hand in front of my own face. My ring finger was numb. When I could, I buffered her from the men. I’d crawl into the lap of the live one sitting next to her. I cut in on her dances. I vied for the attention I knew she didn’t want.
Meanwhile, the news of Second’s departure spread from Treasure Anne to the triplets, from the triplets to the House of Klime, from Klime to the Daddies, the Daddies to the Glories, and lastly, I saw Ling slink over to the Diamond Dowager. I was embarrassed watching gossip telephone around the room. At least it brought the party to a quicker end. Glories cleared the room by dragging live ones back to their apartments for nightcaps. Diamond brought a half dozen men to her house, the group of them looking like death’s wedding as they paired up with the orphans and marched away in their matching black dresses and dinner jackets.
Shirley and Al killed the music after they left and the Daddies escorted the remaining partygoers out, shaking hands and speaking in their business voices as they went. Finally, First and I had peace. The ballroom was spent: costume feathers floated in the air unsure of where to land; dyed carnations were stamped into the dark wood floor. We helped Shirley and Al pull down the floral garlands. Old Maggie pushed a squeaky-wheeled cart around, collecting wine glasses. Although no one expected her to, First couldn’t stop herself from tidying up. By the time we left, the expensive cars had all cleared out, except Arsen’s.
“Stay,” First asked him. And I knew what that meant. I told them that I’d take the sitting room sofa. I was too mad at Second to sleep in her bed. First kissed me goodnight at the front door; her forehead clunked against mine and her lips missed me entirely. They retreated to our room, and I stood, for a good while, a heap of tiny gift boxes collected in my arms. I’ll open them tomorrow, I assured myself. I’ll wake up to a bounty.
In the morning, a squad car was parked on the city side of the Smoke Shoppe. Ling had woken early to clean the stray cigarette butts and party favours from her track patch. She was just about to re-bless it with almond oil and rose petals when she noticed red and blue siren lights ricocheting against the alley wall for a few seconds, long enough to scare her into keeping watch for over an hour. The cop car’s nose inched forward and blocked Advent Alley, and Ling ran straight to our window, screaming.
The bulky white bumper and a bit of royal blue trim on the hood were all that we could see from the Sub Rosa side of the alley. All the Glories got out of bed and huddled together in the street in our gauzy pyjamas and silk robes wondering what to do next.
“Don’t worry none,” First said. “They can’t get in. Can’t even see in here.” Sub Rosa doesn’t allow harm in, is what I’d been told again and again. Why then did everyone look so anxious?
“It’s totally happened before. Who knows why they’re here, but with nothing to see, they’ll leave soon,” said Fauxnique as she nervously chewed her candy-floss hair.
“How soon?” asked Second Man. “I have a breakfast date.”
“Let’s hope it’s not too long.” Arsen wouldn’t quit tapping his foot. “This is what cops do. I’ve seen them park outside the girly bars in the city. It’s as good as putting a black X on the door. No customers come when the cops are sitting out front. The strippers and hostesses lose business until the cops clear out.”
“So no live ones until they go?” asked Second Man.
“I want my Daddy,” Dearest cried. It made me cringe to hear her.
“No Daddy gonna come. No bodies gonna come, don’t you listen?” First pointed at the squad car. Who would dare ask a cop to move his car so they could go visit a secret street of magical working girls? Dearest latched on to Arsen’s pant leg as our situation fully dawned on her. All of the Glories seemed to be moving closer to him; their robes falling open slightly as they turned to him for help.
“What do you think I can do?” he asked. “Drive out of here, or walk, even? And where would it look like I came from? From out of a dead-end alley?” Arsen was stuck like the rest of us. Even if he could squeeze by the cops, the risk that they would stop him for questioning was too high. His only safe course of action was to call Klime or Emanuel for help. The pay phone receiver lay in the centre of the alley where Ling had thrown it. It was the only phone on Sub Rosa. Any other place in the world would have more than one phone, but not us. We didn’t even get cell phone reception. What links us to the rest of the world are Daddies and live ones. Arsen picked up the severed phone and chucked it at the wall. His frustration made us all jump. Second’s paranoia had come true: we were prisoners on Sub Rosa. I wouldn’t have put it past her to have called the police herself.
“It all right.” First attempted to pacify us, smoothing the air around her with her open palms. “Like Fauxnique says, the police can’t keep watchin’ an empty alley for long.”
“How long?” Dearest asked. “I want my Daddy.” Second Man picked her up and passed her to Fauxnique.
“We can survive perfectly well without your precious Daddies.” We turned to see the Diamond Dowager standing behind us. Dearest wormed out of Fauxnique’s arms and began to flap and stomp like a hen trying to fly. I wanted to slap her; the other Glories tended to her tantrum with gentle coos and shushes. “Come away from the alley, child,” said the Dowager. “You’ll attract attention.”
“Cops can’t see us,” First argued.
“The police don’t see us because they don’t think to see us. We are outside their imagination. However, something—or someone, rather— tipped them off about our location. Without a doubt it was your urchin of a Second Wife, Arsen. Haven’t you put it together for yourself yet? Running off wasn’t enough for that one—oh, no—she likely called in an anonymous tip. And now all it would take is for them to notice a single spark or overhear a single word, and the blind alley might start to take shape. They might begin to see what is through it.” Diamond’s speech caused the Glories to back away from Arsen a little. Like me, Diamond suspected Second, though I saw no reason for the entire House of Arsen to become suspect. Second Man narrowed his eyes at us. The triplets began whispering in each other’s ears. First balled up the silky fabric of her nightie in her worried fists.
