Unfinished Symphony (18 page)

"Good," I said. "Now Richard won't be able to complain about me. Thank you."
"Of course, I think you should aim higher. You have talent and you look great," he said. "But you've got to want it, be hungry for it."
"But I don't want it," I said and he stared at me with that curious smile on his face.
"Maybe that's what intrigues me the most about you," he said.
"What?"
"Your ability to resist the temptation, your lack of ego. You're just the type who succeeds," he added.
I looked at him, at that impish grin on his face. It amazed me how other people saw things in me I never saw in myself.
After we walked home, Mel asked me if I wanted to come up to his apartment.
"We could listen to some music. My
roommates are out for the night."
"I don't know," I said. "I promised my sister I wouldn't stay out late."
"It's not late," he insisted. "I'd like to dance for you, too."
"Dance?"
"Sure. I'll show you what I did at the audition for this show. Okay?"
It sounded interesting so I agreed and we went up to his apartment.
"You'll have to excuse the mess," he warned me at the door. "Remember, three guys live here."
It didn't look anywhere near as cluttered and dusty as Mommy's apartment had been before I had started to clean it. I told Mel and he laughed.
"Want something to drink? More wine, perhaps?"
"I suppose wine's all right," I said and he poured me a glass. After he did, he went in to his bedroom to put on his dancing clothes. I heard the music first and then suddenly, he leaped into the room, wearing the tightest top and pants I had ever seen, so tight they left nothing about him to the imagination. He spun on his toes and lifted his legs so high, I lost my breath, especially when he did it right in front of me.
The music became faster, the beat harder. He mixed ballet steps with slides and turns that were dazzling. Finally, he stopped and stood before me, breathing hard, his face flushed with excitement. I felt flushed myself from the wine and his performance.
"Well?"
"You're wonderful," I said. "I can't imagine you not succeeding."
He laughed and stepped closer. The music continued, softer, slower. He reached out to take my hand.
I started to shake my head, but he pulled harder until I stood and we were dancing cheek to cheek, his hard, fast breathing on my neck. When I caught sight of us reflected in the window, it looked like I was dancing with a naked man. My own breathing quickened as his slowed and then he smiled at me and kissed me softly. I felt him push against my thighs.
"You're so sweet," he said. "I really like you." He kissed me again, but I didn't let his lips linger on mine. I stepped back, bowing my head and, when I looked down at him and saw how excited he was, I felt my heart flutter and my breath grow short.
"I've got to get home," I said.
"Melody . ."
He stepped toward me.
"I really do, Mel. Please."
"Okay," he said. "I don't force myself on anyone, but I hope you like me."
"I do, but not that way. I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sure there are a lot of girls who would love to be up here with you," I added.
He smirked."
"Very few like you. Okay, I'll give it time," he said. "Consider this my first audition. Maybe, you'll give me a call back, okay?"
I laughed and tried to shift my eyes from his very revealed body. I found my purse and headed toward the door.
"If you wait for me to change again, I'll walk you home."
"No, that's all right. Thanks for dinner."
"I'll call you about the supermarket job," he said. "Thanks."
I hurried out the door and when I looked back, I saw him standing there, smiling after me. I waved and descended the stairs, feeling as if I were fleeing.
But was I fleeing from him or from myself? For the first time, I thought I was really more afraid of my own weakness and desire. This was a place filled with many different kinds of temptations. The Egyptian Gardens might as well be the Garden of Eden, I concluded and half expected a snake to come up and whisper in my ear as I crossed the courtyard to our building and made my way up to our apartment.
The phone was ringing as I entered. I hurried to it and after my first hello, I heard nothing.
"Hello?" I said again. I heard a deep breath and then . . .
"Where were you?" Cary asked.
"I was out to dinner, Cary. What's wrong?"
"Dad's dead," he said. "He had another heart attack in the CCU and he died." He laughed strangely. "I couldn't think of anyone else to call but you and you were out to dinner."
"Cary, I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, well, it won't be the wrong person in his grave, will it?"
"Cary--"
"I'm tired. It's very late here. I ran down to the docks when I came home and I just stood there looking out at the ocean and thinking about all the trips he and I made together. Funny," he said huskily, "now you and I are both without fathers."
"I'll be back as soon as I can, Cary. I promise." "Okay," he said in a small voice.
And then he hung up and left me crying for both of us.

10
Revelations
.
After I hung up the phone, I sat on the sofa in

the dark living room and cried softly, thinking about Cary, little May and Aunt
^-
Sara and what they all must be going through. I wondered how Grandma Olivia and Grandpa Samuel were taking the news of their son's death. Nothing could be worse than losing a child, I thought, no matter how old the child was at the time, or how aloof and cold at heart you were.

Uncle Jacob had resented my coming and living with him and his family, but most of the time I thought that was because my presence made the loss of his Laura that much harder to bear. Right from the beginning, Aunt Sara treated me as if I had been sent to replace Laura, but I knew as far as Uncle Jacob was concerned, no one could ever replace his daughter. He had been hard, sometimes downright cruel to me, but I also recalled moments when he gazed at me with softer, kinder eyes, especially after he had heard me sing and play the fiddle, and often, when he didn't think I was aware of his gaze.

He was a hardworking man who wanted to provide for his family as best he could. His religious zeal often made him cold and unpleasant to me, but on more than one occasion, Cary hinted that his father had become more devout and sterner after Laura died, somehow blaming himself for her death. When he was in the hospital the first time, he had asked to see me at his bedside, and because he thought he was dying, he confessed to me that he and my mother had done something sinful together when they were young. At the time he made it seem that he blamed himself for my mother's wild ways later on when she was older. Afterward, he denied saying these things. Ashamed of what he had told me, he found my presence even harder to bear. I'm sure he was happy when I decided to leave to find my mother, as happy as Grandma Olivia was to see me go.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Minutes later, I fell asleep and didn't waken until I heard the door open, followed by loud laughter.

"Why is it so dark in here?" I heard Richard say before snapping on a lamp. The shock of light made me blink and rub my eyes as I sat up quickly.

"Well, well, look who's waiting up for us," he said.
"Why are you still up and dressed? How was your dinner, Melody?" Mommy asked. "You didn't drink too much wine or anything, did you? Did you bring Mel up here?" she scanned the room as if to look for evidence of his having been in the apartment. She wobbled a bit but took a step closer and focused on me with some effort, finally noticing how red my eyes were and the streaks tears had made down my cheeks. "What's going on now?" she demanded.
"Uncle Jacob," I said and swallowed, taking too long for her.
"What about him? I can't imagine anything about him that would interest me," she told Richard, who laughed. "Well, what did he do?"
"He died," I said. "His heart gave out at the hospital." She stared, the news having a sobering effect on her. I saw her face move through a myriad of emotions, from shock to sadness, to anger and then indifference. She smirked first at Richard before turning back to me.
"His heart, as you call it, gave out a long time ago. I don't wish anything bad on anyone, but I can't pretend to be terribly upset about it," she said, the mirth all gone from her eyes and lips.
"But you grew up with him and Daddy. You can't be so uncaring," I replied.
"You don't know anything about what my life was like growing up with Jacob as a so-called brother, Melody," Mommy flared back at me, "and I can't forget how he treated me afterward when all the trouble began for me and Chester."
The anger in her eyes stunned me so much I was speechless.
"I don't like anyone bringing bad news to Gina," Richard said, suddenly pretending to be very protective. "Especially news about her past, and especially the night before she has an audition."
"Yes," Mommy said, smiling with a proud gleam in her eyes. "I have something exciting to try out for tomorrow, a part in a television sitcom. I've got to get right to bed. That's why we came home so early," she added.
I looked at the clock. Early? It was a little past one o'clock. What was late supposed to mean?
"You should go to sleep yourself," Richard said. "You have a lot of work ahead of you, too." He laughed and headed for the bedroom.
"I do feel sorry for Sara and the children," Mommy said, her voice somewhat softer. "Sara was always nice to me." She sighed and pulled her head back a little as if to swallow back some errant tears. Then she looked at me with a small smile on her lips. "If you think you should go back for the funeral, it's all right. I . . . can't have anything more to do with them. Whatever tears I would spill would be one more tear than his mother will anyway. Believe me," she said.
"You hate her very much, don't you?" I asked.
The corners of her mouth whitened with her rage.
"Yes. I won't deny it. I do, and she has no love for me either, Melody." Her eyes glared hotly and then her expression returned to one of self-pity. She groaned. "I hate going to sleep feeling upset," she said as she turned toward the bedroom. "I wish you hadn't told me about it."
I watched her go in and close the door and then I rose and went to bed myself. Maybe I should return to the Cape, I thought. Maybe the mother I had hoped to find did die and was buried back in Provincetown. What had happened to Mommy to make her so selfish? Or had I been too blind to realize that that was her true self?
Mommy was right about going to sleep with sadness like a rock on your chest, however. I tossed and turned, sobbed and sighed through most of the night, unable to get Cary's sad eyes out of my mind.
I finally fell asleep just before morning and slept so soundly, I didn't hear Richard and Mommy get up. I did wake when I heard him shout my way.
"Well, this is a fine thing. We don't have coffee made. What sort of a maid did you hire, Gina? Turns out she's lazier than you."
I got up quickly, throwing on one of Mommy's light cotton robes, and stepped out into the living room. Richard was already dressed and Mommy, dressed rather nicely, I thought, came out of her bedroom, too.
"I'll make some coffee," I said. "It won't take long." I started toward the kitchen.
"We can't wait," Richard said, his eyes fixed hard on me. I realized I wasn't wearing much and he seemed to be able to look right through my flimsy night clothes. "We'll get something at the studio. Clean up our bedroom while we're gone. I left some more of my things for you to iron," he added and started toward the front door.
Mommy looked at me, her face somber.
"Wish me luck," she finally said.
"Good luck."
"Thank you," she said, flashing a smile. Then she followed Richard out of the apartment. I listened to their footsteps disappearing down the hallway toward the elevator and then I went into the kitchen and put on some coffee for myself. I sat there, more or less in a daze, sipping coffee and nibbling on some toast and jam. Before long, my mind wandered back to memories of myself and Cary on the beach. I thought about Kenneth and his dog, Ulysses, and remembered first meeting Holly and the fun we had talking like sisters.
How could Mommy want this kind of a life? I thought. Despite herself and the mean things she had said to me last night after I had told her about Uncle Jacob, her eyes did soften occasionally. Deep in her heart, I told myself, she wants to go home. I've just got to get her to realize it.
Still wearing my nighty and Mommy's robe, I cleaned up their bedroom and began ironing Richard's pants and shirts. I worked without thought, moving like some kind of a robot, dazed by the tragic events. A little after noon, I finally put the work aside and went into the bathroom to take a shower I stood there letting the warm water beat on the top of my head, my eyes closed, the stream flowing over my face. Finally, I shut off the shower and stepped out from behind the curtain.
For a moment, I was confused. I knew I had brought in a towel and my clothes, but there was just a hand towel on the rack and none of my clothes were in sight. Not trusting my own memory, I figured I had intended to do these things, but because of being in such deep thought, hadn't. Dripping wet, I ran out of the bathroom to my bedroom. As soon as I entered, the door closed behind me, only I hadn't been the one to close it.
Richard stood there, leering at me, and he was stark naked himself!
Silent screams stuck in my throat.
"What are you doing? Where's Mammy?" I finally shouted and rushed to the bed to pull the top sheet off and throw it around me. Brittle as thin glass, his laughter crackled across the room. He stepped forward, not making any attempt to hide his manliness from my sight.
"I told you to stop calling her Mommy," he said, still smiling.
"Where is she? What are you doing?"
"She's at her audition. She'll be there most of the day. There are a lot of actresses trying out for the part, so I thought, why hang around? I decided, while waiting, I might as well make myself useful. I've been wondering why you would run out on such an easy job for a lot of money yesterday, and I figured out it's simply because you're too innocent. You need to grow up, and fast, or you'll never amount to anything. Consider this an extra service. Call it my generosity," he continued, moving closer and closer until he was only inches away.
I turned and looked down rather than into his face. His breath stank from alcohol and began to upset my stomach. I felt it do flip-flops.
"Come on," he said, "I know you're looking forward to this."
"Get away from me!" I cried.
He put his right hand on my shoulder and his left on my waist, forcing me to turn to him.
"Relax and enjoy," he said bringing his lips close to mine. I swung my head and tried to pivot out of his grasp, but he tightened his hold and pressed his lips against my mouth. I gagged and kicked out, catching him between his legs with my knee. His face, exploded like a balloon bursting and he crumbled, clutching his lower stomach.
I didn't wait. I pushed past him and started to run from the room, holding onto the sheet. Somehow, he managed to reach out, clutching the end of the sheet and holding on. It tugged me back until I let go and fled the room, totally naked. I returned to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it after me. Then I stood there for a moment gasping, sobbing, listening. My heart was pounding so, I had to lean against the door to brace myself. The memory of the stench coming from his mouth made me dryheave.
"You little bitch," I heard him shout. He came up to the door and tried the handle. "Open up. How dare you knee me like that? I'm letting you stay here, aren't I?"
He pounded the door with his fist and I screamed. Then he stopped and all was quiet for a long moment. I tried to hold my breath so I could listen, but my lungs were stretched to bursting and the thump, thump, thump of my heart was echoing in my eardrums.
"You'll be sorry," he finally said in a loud whisper between the door and the doorjamb. "I could have taught you something, made you grow up overnight. You would have been sophisticated enough for anything, but Richard Marlin doesn't allow himself to get turned down more than once. It's your loss," he added. "You hear?"
He punched the door again. I cried out and backed away, afraid he would break the door down. After a while I heard only silence and then, when I drew closer to the door and put my ear against it, I heard him walk away. I didn't come out. I sat on the tub and waited, my arms folded tightly under my breasts, my sobbing slowing and my breathing returning to normal. I heard the front door open and close. All was quiet. Was it a trick to get me to open the bathroom door?
I waited and waited, listening, hoping he would grow impatient if he were still out there, but I heard nothing. Suddenly the phone rang. It rang and rang and I imagined that if he were still there, he would be too concerned the call was for him and he would have answered it. More confident that he was gone, I unlocked the door as carefully and as quietly as I could. I hesitated and then in fractions of an inch at a time, opened it until I could peer out.
I didn't see him anywhere. I looked across the dining area to my bedroom. The door was wide open. Was he waiting inside the room again? I tried to swallow, to stop my heart from its racing again, but I couldn't. His attack had made my legs weak and my whole body trembled as I opened the bathroom door wider and wider until I stepped out, and then waited, terrified he would suddenly appear and lunge at me. He didn't.
My courage growing, I practically tiptoed across the floor to the doorway of my bedroom. There I paused to listen. I heard nothing. I took a deep breath and walked into my bedroom, gazing around quickly, clenching my hands into little fists with which to pummel him should he pop out at me. He wasn't anywhere in sight. I closed the door quickly and then, my heart fell. What if he were hiding in my closet?
I waited, listening again for a moment. Hearing nothing, I went to the closet door and pulled it open. The wind from my jerking open the door shook the clothes on the hangers, but thankfully, there was no Richard Marlin hiding and waiting to pounce out at me.
I got dressed as quickly as I could and then I fled the apartment, feeling trapped and in danger of a horrible repeat performance if I remained there. I didn't look at anyone when I hurried down the walkway. Like someone in a race, I shot through the main gate and charged down the sidewalk. I walked as quickly as I could, not looking back, crossing streets, fighting traffic, hurrying along as if I knew where I wanted to go. It felt good to move quickly. It stopped my body from trembling and the farther away from The Egyptian Gardens I walked, the safer I felt. Finally, tired, my body in a heavy sweat, I paused at a corner, undecided in which direction I should continue. I gazed at the street sign that read Melrose Avenue, and then I looked around at other people.
Up until this moment, I hadn't noticed anyone or anything. I had walked with blind eyes, focused only on fleeing Richard's awful grasp. Now I found myself in a very curious area of the city. Young people with blue, green and pink hair, dressed in leather jackets and jeans walked past and in front of me. Many had tattoos covering their arms and chests. Two girls even had rings in their noses! I felt like I had stepped onto another planet.
I backed up, turned and started walking in the opposite direction. Everyone in this city really did seem to be in his or her own movie, I thought, feeling as if I had wandered onto a movie set. I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry. After I walked a few minutes, the neighborhood changed again and I slowed my pace, quickly realizing that I was lost. I stopped again and gazed around, this time seeing a small store window on my left that read MADAM MARLENE, READINGS. I saw the crystals and the tarot cards and thought about Holly and Billy. It brought a smile back to my lips. Impulsively, perhaps searching for good memories at a very troubled time, I stepped into the small shop.
There was a dark cherry wood table and two chairs at the center of the little room. The crystals were in a small glass case on the right and at the rear of the shop there was a doorway like the one at Holly's shop, curtained with strings of beads. When I entered, a small buzzer had gone off. A short, darkhaired elderly lady came through the doorway of beads. She wore a shimmery white shawl over a dark blue dress and had silver earrings with crystals that glittered like diamonds in between the long strands of hair falling over her shoulders. Her dark eyes were large but she made them appear even larger with smudgy kohl eyeliner.
"Hello," she said. "I'm Madam Marlene. Would you like a reading?"
I shook my head.
"Um . I . I just . . ."
"You look upset," she said. "Please," she added pointing to the seat by the table. "Rest a moment and tell me what troubles you."
"I'm lost," 1 said. "I'm new here and I don't remember how to get back to my apartment complex."
"Which complex, my dear?" she asked, her smile soft and friendly. She looked to be about fifty and not much more than five feet tall.
"The Egyptian Gardens," I said.
"You're not very lost. Just go down two streets, make a left and you'll run into it after about ten minutes. I think there's more troubling you though, isn't there?"
I nodded and gazed around her shop.
"I have a friend in New York City who has a crystal shop and who does astrological readings for people. Her name's Holly."
"That's interesting," Madam Marlene said, and a knowing twinkle came into her eyes. "You really came in here because you wanted to know something, yes?" she pursued, her head tilted slightly and her eyes even more luminous as the dim overhead light caught them in its warm glow.