Roadmap Part 11

CHAPTER 27 - SEVENTH HEAVEN

I left a message on Eva's answering machine asking what she's doing for Carmelita's birthday. That was two weeks ago. Today she calls.

"I don't even feel like getting her a gift, I'm so pissed off at her. You know, she's sick and I have absolutely no sympathy. She does it to herself. Yesterday she cancelled a rolfing session because she says she's too sick to go.  I just can't stand the way she treats people!"

At work, in the lobby downstairs, I buy Carmelita a present.  A Native American warrior bracelet made of tooth-like bones and turquoise beads.  She's already says that she wears only 24 karat, so I don't know if she'll like it.

The Road to Hell and all that jazz...

In Topanga, I sit again on Eva's floor in her room, watching Carmelita squeeze herself into an emerald green gown with a tight bodice and plunging neckline.  She gasps and laughs in Spanish.

"She says she can't breathe," translates Eva.

For an hour, Carmelita applies makeup.  I don't think this newly minted sixteen-year old has a clue about where we're going. Eva wants to take her to Seventh Heaven, which I think is run by a kind of health food cult or something.  You can't get more remote than this restaurant, perched over a large tree filled ditch.  Carmelita's dressed for a Hot Time in Beverly Hills. If I were her aunt, that's where I'd take her; but all I can offer is my love—a  love that springs from relief that my life is finally starting to yield joy.

In Seventh Heaven, we shiver together at an outside table under a full moon.  Stuck on an Eva inspired regimen of raw crackers and salads, Carmelita eagerly orders lasagna. Eva wants the sautéed salmon with steamed veggies—and I opt for chicken.

There has been little mention of Carmelita's birthday.  To cheer up things, I give her a card, which she smiles at with a genuine thank you, "You are so nice with me!"

"You are so thoughtful," Eva murmurs. "I was never this thoughtful. Not even with my own children."

Then I give Carmelita the bracelet, which she claims she's been wanting.  I tell her about the warriors.

"The bones were like armor against arrows."

"Is it lucky?" she asks, uncertain of my English.

"No, not really," Eva replies.

"Kind of," I insist. "It might protect you."

Carmelita tells me I look beautiful.

"You do look radiant," Eva agrees.

"Is it because of the guy?" Carmelita asks.

When I smile my answer, Eva pulls her black shawl tighter, looks grave and cautions, "Don't take this wrong. It's just that I hope...in time...you will realize that this inner light can come from you. You don't need the man."

Yeah, yeah, yeah.  But I've got the man.

When I ask, Carmelita tells me she's fed up with school. She had a big fight with her ESL teacher. Eva shrugs that Carmelita can quit school anyway now that she's sixteen

"The school system in this country is fucked," Eva says. "When I was a senior in Forest Hills, I scored the highest in the state for Biology on my college entrance exams. And a few years later, when I was pregnant for the first time, I was terrified because I did not know which end my baby was going to come out!"

Carmelita sighs like she's heard this a million times.

Dinner finally arrives and is forgettable.  Eva savors every morsel of her thirty dollar salmon. Thank God I just got a six-month assignment for an attorney.  When the check comes, I pay for half of Carmelita's meal, feeling blessed and abundant.

xx

We pile into Eva's new sleek white convertible and as it slips through the silvery night, up the road to The Relationship House, Carmelita suddenly giggles, "Remember when Tony told me to tell everybody 'I am stinko'?"  She laughs louder now and I laugh with her—delighting in the memory of Tony--conjuring his presence for her birthday. Only Eva remains silent.

When we get out of the car, the cat greets us with her noisy, high pitched meows.  Eva groans. "That cat!  Nobody can handle that cat! She misses you. She's not mine anymore.  She's yours."

"Monday I waited and waited for you," Carmelita pouts. "Eva said you were coming to spend the night and then you didn't." I was going to, then changed my mind.

"I'm sorry."  But I'm not.  I'm immune to guilt.  I can even sense it coming.  They beg me to stay the night.  I beg off.

"I'm going to make reservations at the raw food clinic for Thanksgiving," Eva says. "Would you like to go with me?" So Eva has not entirely given up her quest for raw food.

"I'll have to let you know.  I'm leaving that date open right now," because I'm secretly hoping Shane will invite me.

Eva adds that her longtime best friend, Elaine, will be visiting from New York in a couple days.

"I thought maybe we could come to Shane's," Eva says. "Have lunch.  I want to see his rock garden because I'm looking for ideas to make the yard into a meditation garden."

I say great, do you eat Chinese food?  Chinese food would be fine, she says.

Then I escape.  Back to Echo Park.  Back to its peace and order born of solitude.

CHAPTER 28 - VICES

Mid-afternoon and I can't get in. The key turns, but nothing happens. While I'm struggling, the door suddenly opens and I see a tall, slender young Asian man standing in Shane's kitchen.

"Shh..." he says, "We're taking a nap. My little girl's in the bedroom." Then he goes back and closes the door. Must be The Live Wire, Shane's youngest brother.

I put groceries away as quietly as possible, then go outside to read. Are they going to stay here? Will I go back to Topanga?

About an hour later, he reappears, holding out his hand, "Hi, I'm Shannon.  We had to get away, my wife was throwing things. We had a big fight, my wife is sick in the head and she should be taking her medication, but she doesn't or else she takes seven pills all at once and it makes her worse."

"Have you told her doctor?"

"Doctors! Yeah, I've talked to them and they tell me, sorry, there's nothing they can do. They can give her the pills, that's it." He throws a Polaroid photograph onto the kitchen table. It's of a little girl in a big armchair.

"That's my little girl. She fucking took this at her fucking boyfriend's house, I can't believe it. She's supposed to have broken up with him and she goes and takes this picture. I found it and when I confronted her, she says, 'So what?' Her boyfriend's a cop."

The beeper around his belt goes off, "Shit." He runs to the phone, offers me the receiver, "Here. Can you do me a favor?" He reads the numbers off his beeper, "Dial this number and say, 'This is Janey. Did you just beep me?'"  I hesitate.  "Please say, ‘This is Janey'..." 

As if hypnotized, I dial. On the other end, a recording states, "If you need assistance, please hang up..."

"I think it's a phone booth," I say, hanging up.

He collapses on the sofa, bent over, head in hands, "So that's how they're doing it!  He's calling her from phone booths!"

I sit cross-legged on the living room floor, "The cop?"

"Yeah, the cop. Before when she was with him, I told the department and they warned him to stay away.  He's just as crazy as she is. Yesterday I found his wallet in my car.  And this picture."

"Did you take the wallet to his superiors?"

"Nah, I left it there.  But I know what's going on.  That's what we were fighting about this morning." He picks up the phone again and dials, "Please.  Say, 'Hi, it's Janey, are we getting together today?'  Can you do a Korean accent?"

I snap out of my stupor, "No.  I'm not going to do this. It's crazy. You need to break this cycle of craziness."

He hangs up, "You're right.  No, you're right. That's what it is, huh? A cycle of craziness?"

"Sure it is," I try to keep my voice calm. But he starts to cry. As I speak, I start to cry, too, "Craziness is something I know about.  My mother had a nervous breakdown two months ago and was involuntarily committed. It's hard because she's always been crazy.  Except sometimes she can be very sane, kind of flipping back and forth."

He nods, "Yes, yes.  That's how Janey is.  Sometimes she's okay.  I've told her she's got to think about her child.  Think about our marriage."

"When somebody's that biochemically fucked up, they can't think rationally.  You can't just say, 'Straighten up or I'll divorce you.'  Sometimes you have to cut them loose.  Save yourself.  Save your little girl."

He looks at me as if hearing this for the first time, "You think I have to cut her loose?"

"I know you do.  It's the only way.  Or else she'll take you down with her."

He leans back, eyes shut while he rubs them, "That's what I have to do."

"I've been there.  It's not easy."

"I'm glad I talked to you.  I'm glad you're here."

He's a good looking man, his features softer, body visibly stronger than Shane's.  Shane had given me the phone number where Shannon works -- the Fire Department.  Husband material, if ever there was any.  The little girl from the picture comes in.  She's about four years old with long straight black hair that frames a pretty, intelligent face."This is Heidi."

"Hi, Heidi.

"Heidi, this is Auntie Carrie."

Auntie Carrie. I'm starting to feel like I'm in an Actor's Nightmare, waking up in the middle of a play I never auditioned for, playing a character that everybody seems to take for granted is me because they keep telling me it is.

Heidi throws me a guileless smile, "I'm hungry."

"I didn't have time to get her anything to eat."

"I'm going to Chinatown anyway," I offer. "I've got to refill this medicine I'm taking.  I can pick up some food on my way back."

"Great.  I'll give you some money."

"When I get back."

An hour later, I'm back with the food. Shannon helps me set the table, "You know my brother's had these same plastic plates ever since I can remember?"

He takes a film vial out of the cupboard, "What's this doing in here? Oh because it’s plastic."

And he exclaims over the food:

"Did you get this at Hop Li? I love that place! That's the place I'd have gone to.  The waiters have class, they're not your typical Chinese yelling across the room at each other. Auntie Carrie's taking care of us, Heidi.  Isn't that nice?" He looks around, "I gotta say this place sure shows a woman's touch. It used to be a real pig sty."

Remembering Shane's "Japanese are very clean," I say, "Actually he was up till two cleaning before he left."

He smirks, "Aw, he was probably, you know..."

"Showing off?"

"Yeah."

I let him pay for half, trying to take Eva's warning to heart. It feels strange being with a small child.

"Shane's crazy about Heidi," Shannon says. "And she loves him." She nods angelically, looking at me over the rim of her glass as she drinks her water. "How long have you known my brother?"

"We met in July…"

"Are you like boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Why does he sound so incredulous? Is it because I'm so much older than Shane's usual girlfriends? Because I'm white? Or doesn't he usually have girlfriends that the family meets? Whatever the reason, Shannon's tone sends a chill through me.

"I don't know if we're boyfriend and girlfriend, but I guess we've been doing the boyfriend/girlfriend thing," I shrug.

Announcing that he's going out for beer and some Oreos (for Heidi), he leaves me alone with his little girl. To my surprise, she's easy to entertain and be with. We spend the time drawing. I draw a picture of her with a crown and write under it, "Princess Heidi."

"You remind me of my teacher," she says.  "I'm going to call you 'Miss Carrie.'" I catch myself studying her lovely features and asking myself if I'd like to have a child like this. Shannon returns, offers me a beer, which I refuse, and sits popping open a bottle, "Do you have any vices, Carrie?"

"Plenty.  I just hate beer."

"What do you do...for fun?"

"Everything," I smile. "I do everything.

The answer seems to please him. He doesn't ask me to elaborate. When he leaves, he gives me a big hug, "Thank you. You've shown me what I have to do. I'm going to throw her out. It'll be just my dad and Heidi and me..."

"Your father lives with you?"

"Of course, I'm not one of these guys who'd leave their parents on the streets. Can I call you later, if I need to talk?"

I tell him he can.  He never does.

Shane is due back the day after tomorrow.  I leave a message on his machine that says, "If this is you, call me with the flight number and time and I'll be there!" Communication doesn't seem all that hard, but Mercury's backward illusion is still going on above our heads. I'm not taking any chances.

CHAPTER 28 - ROCK GARDENS

"I just love it. It's absolutely perfect!"

"I'm so glad you like it," I say, coming out to greet Eva and her visitor, as they make their way down the steps. To me, Eva's reaction is the acid test. She can be harshly critical and her own home is so lovely. Can she see this place is a reflection of Shane's own pure and gentle spirit?

Her guest offers her hand, "I'm Elaine."  She is everything Eva is not:  large boned, Jewish with short salt and pepper hair that crisply coils around her round, kind face.  They've been friends for forty years. 

Eva had told me, "Elaine's married to a real asshole who treats her like shit for twenty-five years. They don't want to come inside. They want to go to Chinatown to eat.

"I know the perfect place.  I can drive."

That's okay, she says, she'll drive.

When I point out Hop Li's free parking lot, Eva insists on parking at the meters.  Twenty-five cents for fifteen minutes. While she pumps in quarters, I go on with Elaine, trying to beat what looks like a Chinese wedding headed for the same restaurant.  Looking back, I see Eva (is she purposely dawdling?) still at the meter.

When she finally joins us, I put a light arm around her, hoping to circumvent any hard feelings, explaining why we rushed ahead.  It's like putting my arm around a block of wood.

But it doesn't bother me.

Nothing can harm me, that's how I feel as I sit down to lunch in my favorite restaurant, aware that something has shifted. Eva looks at the menu. And looks.  And looks. "I'll have a salad," she announces as she shuts it.

"You can't get a salad in a Chinese restaurant!"

"You can't?"

I'm starting to wonder if Eva has ever had a life outside of Topanga, where nightly she pushes food into containers for her next day's meals.

"We can go somewhere where they have salad," I suggest.

"No.  No, that's okay." She orders stir fried Chinese broccoli and sizzling chow mein, because I say it's good.

No sooner does the waiter leave, then she falls into stone-faced silence.  They've just come from Elaine's chart reading with Eva's astrology teacher.

"So how was the reading?" I ask.

  Elaine smiles tightly, "Oh, good.  I mean he told me things I already knew."

Eva suddenly stands, "I have to go."

Elaine looks up in alarm, "Will you be back?"  Eva just goes.

Leaning her face in both hands, Elaine's voice comes out muffled, "I hate when she does this."

"She probably just went to call Carmelita."

"No. I've seen her like this before. She's upset. Probably with me. Because I'm not serious enough about astrology."

"Does she do this a lot?"

"At least once every time I visit."

We chat about what the astrologer told her (she never mentions her husband) until Eva returns and sits with hands folded into a stiff triangle before her tightly pressed mouth, eluding our attempts to include her:

"Are you okay?" we ask.

"Fine," she whispers.

Greater than Eva's sulking, I marvel, is how little power it has over me.  She's acting like an offended queen, but her queendom is sixty miles due west.  It carries no emotional punch whatsoever on my turf, I note coolly as the food comes.

"Oh, this is delicious!" Eva keeps saying between bites, gathering more Chinese broccoli and cellophane noodles. I'm glad to see her wolfing it down.  For this picky woman to enjoy food that I've chosen...

"So how's Edward?" I ask, thinking of the cabin.

"I just avoid him.  I'm going to ask him to move out.  I don't want his energy anymore."  Then she adds, "I'm going to offer the cabin to Tony."

Tony.

"But -"

"Yes, I know I'd offered it to you, but I need Tony's room for Carmelita and he wouldn't want your room.  It's too small."

"It's the same size as his.  We measured it the first night he was here." At midnight, we walked across my room, then his, measuring in heel-to-toe lengths.

"Mmmm..." she looks straight at me, done with chewing. "Well, that cabin rents for six-fifty a month.

  "Then he can have it!" I laugh lightly, although I know damn well Edward's rent was five hundred.

As if reading my mind, Eva says, "I gave Edward a hundred-fifty off in exchange for yard work and frankly, I don't think he does a hundred fifty dollars worth of yard work each month.  He's leaving at the end of this month anyway to do theater in Indiana for two months."

So that's that. Anyway, two days ago I got fired from my six-month assignment for being "too independent" so I have no income. 

I sit in the back of Eva's convertible, watching her aimlessly roam the Chinatown streets, listening to her muse about her Asian past lives.  Actually, her driving alarms me. Both hands grip the wheel as she inches along. Directing her back to Shane's, I find myself telling her exactly which lane to get into well before it's time, my compulsive self rising to the occasion:

"Get in the left lane, you'll be turning left here..." This compulsion used to annoy the hell out of Tony.

"I'm sorry, if I'm over-directing you. Tony used to say, 'Don't you think I know how to drive?'."

Eva stops at a light, "Tony came to me before he left and told me that Carmelita was bothering him and he wasn't sure what to do because she's my niece."  She glances at me in the rear view mirror, "I told him he can just tell her to leave him alone."

"Bothering" how?  It must have gotten pretty blatant for him to complain to Eva.

"Then he asked if there's anything about him that bothers me, and I said no, but as I walked away, I thought of it and I came back and said, 'As a matter of fact, there is something...You could be twenty years older.'" To Elaine, she says, "You didn't meet Tony. He's going to make some woman a wonderful husband."

In the midst of my directions, I blurt out, "I don't know. He told me that 'The Hermit' card turns up in every reading he's ever had."

"Oh, no, I don't get that at all from him."

"Well, he agreed with it."

The light has turned green. Cars are honking. Eva is still sitting there.  Elaine and I say, "The light's green."

As if awakened by the snap of a hypnotist's fingers, Eva jumps and presses on the accelerator.  Midway down the block to Shane's she leans her head against the steering wheel, "I'm feeling...sick. It must have been the food. It must have had sugar."

"You can lie down in the bedroom," I offer.

"No...no.."

We drive the rest of the way in silence, Eva hunched over the wheel.  Elaine turns and murmurs at me, "You've been so kind..."

But I'm afraid. Afraid that on the way back to Topanga, Eva will crash and burn on the Ventura freeway, taking her childhood playmate along for the ride.

As we pull up to the house, I try again, "You're welcome to lie down until _"

"I'm okay!" she snaps, her head resting on her tiny hands and her voice weakly insistent, annoyed.

It's clear to me now that my days at The Relationship House are definitely numbered.  If I only knew which number is my last.

Waiting on the machine is a silky warm message from Shane, "Hi, it is me."  After giving his flight information, he adds, "It's been incredible. I have seen and heard a lot. I'll tell you all about it when I get back. And then we'll hang out and have fun."

And after this, a message from Rosie, "Omigod, guess what?  Venus went retrograde today.  For the first time in eight years! Venus, the planet of love, Carrie.  But I'm sure it won't affect you guys..."

Great.  So now both Mercury and Venus are retro.

I call her back and she says, "I love the fact that you're practically living with this man already!  You're an inspiration to me."

"Cut it out."

"Look, last year at this time you were stuck on slow simmer with Boris and now you're running around having anal sex and everything!" I'd called and asked Rosie for some pointers, thinking she might know. And I was right. All my attempts to research anal sex had turned up little information beyond "Sodomy is illegal."

xx

In twenty-four hours, he'll be lying beside me.  Let Venus do her worst,