Girl Desecrated 1984: Vampires, Asylums and Highlanders, page 22
“Why do you think she was talking to Spiritoe? I thought he might be able to tell us where you were.” She lit up and took a deep drag.
I let the silence hang, hoping she’d go back to the couch, but she had more to say.
“Mr. Spiritoe is weird, but he’s usually not so … specific… scientific… rhythmic.”
“Unlike you.”
She snipped a hangnail off with her teeth. “What I find weird is that, all of a sudden, you want to hear what Mr. Spiritoe has to say.”
She raised her eyes and caught my worried look before I could clear my expression. I just shrugged. I didn’t owe anyone any explanations.
The silence dragged on while Magda stared at me, and I became uncomfortable.
“So!” She tilted her head to the side. “Did you leave the restaurant with anyone?”
I frowned. “Did you?”
“I already told you. We were looking for you.”
“Karen?”
“No, Angus sent her home in a cab.”
I couldn’t hold back my smile. “Looks good on her.”
Magda raised her eyebrows, still waiting.
I looked away first.
“So, I came home.”
“We came here. You didn’t answer the door.”
“Maybe I was sleeping.”
“Maybe the landlord let us in.”
My nostrils flared. “You didn’t.”
“You could have been dead!” She threw up her hand. “We had to check.”
I shook my head imaging Angus, Colin, Duncan, and Lene all crowded into my apartment. “You didn’t go through my stuff…” My eyes darted to the ceiling tile where Donald’s jacket was hidden.
“No, we didn’t go through your stuff. Angus and Colin stayed back down the street. I’m the only one who came in. Angus seemed to think the landlord wouldn’t like seeing him.”
I wasn’t used to having people watch out for me. I liked being able to do what I wanted, when I wanted, without having to explain myself.
“You had no right…”
Magda clicked her tongue. “Maybe if you’d pull your head out of your ass, you’d realize some people actually care about you.”
She got off my bed, stomped across the kitchen to turn out the light and went back to her covers on the couch.
I didn’t need their help or their so called ‘care’ excuses for breaking into my place. I knew what happened when I let people care about me. Then what? Who always ended up getting hurt?
I dug down into my quilts and tried to justify my anger, but it didn’t hold. Magda had a right to be worried.
Whatever.
I stopped thinking about it and instead, I tried to puzzle out the words transformation, transoceanic, and transitional. But like counting sheep, the monotony of going over and over an unsolvable puzzle finally put me to sleep.
CHAPTER 24: HARVEST PREPARATIONS
~
AN HOUR OR SO LATER, I awoke with a start. I must have cried out because Magda immediately asked me what the hell I was doing waking her up again.
“I had a nightmare.” I rubbed my eyes.
Magda was a dream junky and loved to hear about my night terrors. She changed her tone and asked, “Was Lennox in it?”
“Why would you…” I stopped myself and changed tactics. “Who’s Lennox?”
“Nobody.” I waited for more. “Just when you didn’t come back, we went over to the guys’ place before we came here. Their friend, Lennox, wasn’t there. Duncan thought maybe you were with him.
“Why would I be with someone I don’t know?”
“Settle, it was a random question.”
I licked my lips and tried to relax. God, my mouth tasted like crap. I pushed aside the curtain. Sure enough, it was light out.
Magda stood up and pulled on a sweatshirt
“I’ll cook up some grindage, while you tell me about your nightmare,” she offered, going to my fridge.
“Okay, but put the kettle on first.”
I wasn’t sure how to start the telling. My dreams were multi-sensual, my imagination fed me smells—some of my dreams were only made of scents. Others were a kaleidoscope of images, some a symphony of voices and accents. It was hard to weed through and find the ‘story’ in the dream.
As if she could read my mind, Magda encouraged, “Start with the strongest image”.
I thought of the first picture I’d seen in my dream. I held to that until it became clear. Finally, I could almost smell the dew on the grass, and then I was there.
“I was standing in this green field… that went on forever… hill after hill, divided by stone fences. The sun was shining but it wasn’t hot, just… nice.”
“That’s sounds real scary.” Magda had found the eggs and was digging in the crisper for veggies.
“What else did you see?” she prompted over her shoulder.
“To my right, there were these ramps or whatever... you know, like wooden stalls for loading cattle. And uh... men.”
“Oh goodie. Some men. What did they look like?”
I waited until she stopped yanking the frying pan out of my crowded cupboard.
“Like, you know, the actor in the movie Highlander. Men in plaid shawls draped over white shirts.”
“This is getting interesting.” Magda hacked up phlegm. “Can you answer the burning question?”
“What burning question?”
“What was under their kilts?”
I barked out a laugh. “I don’t need to have those kinds of dreams.”
“Are you saying you’re getting some?” She leered at me, as if she was joking, but I was pretty sure she was still trying to dig up info about last night.
I stopped smiling. “I think the burning question here, Magda, is why do I have so many nightmares?”
“Be-cause you’re nuts?” She pretended it was a wild guess but it hurt.
Silence hung between us.
She shrugged, “I still love ya. Now keep talkin’”
Why was I so hurt? I knew I was nuts.
“Alright.” I took myself back into the nightmare. “The men were bringing up these big, brown, hairy cows with really wide horns. And I could see these hands on a sword but I couldn’t see who was holding it. The sword swiped at a cow… and the blade… it slipped into the cow’s throat… like it was made out of hairy butter.” I shuddered at the memory.
Magda beat the eggs harder.
My voice dropped to a whisper, as I recounted the unpleasant scene.
“The cow went down on its knees on the grass. It was making these horrible bubbling, gurgling sounds.”
“Then what?”
My heart was pounding like a hammer. “I just watched until the cow bled out and died.”
Magda bellowed out a tortured moo, and then burst out laughing.
“SHHhhhh. Quiet! I don’t want the landlord to hear us.”
We listened for sounds the landlord might be getting up, but no creaking came from upstairs.
“Seriously, Magda, it was gross. It was ... cruel. But it gets worse. In my dream, I looked down, and saw I was the one holding the sword. I was doing the killing. Only I wasn’t shocked or upset, I was happy. No, better than happy. I felt… high.”
I had really felt orgasmic, but some things you don’t share with friends.
The pan sizzled as Magda poured in the eggs. I wiped a sheen of sweat off my forehead with a corner of the quilt.
She chopped at the onions and pepper.
The sick feeling from the nightmare had come back, and I wasn’t sure I should tell her the rest.
“So, why were you killing them?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“Maybe you were a butcher?”
“No. I was wearing a dress. Like … like a princess dress in yellow silk. The front was covered in blood. And it had this… low neckline, and my boobs were almost popping out because the weight of the blood was dragging the hem down.”
“Sounds seriously sexy,” Magda said in an Elvira impersonation.
“It wasn’t sexy! Listen, my hands were on the sword, but my eyes were on my ...”
“Boobs!”
“No, my dress!” Normally at this point, she would have pulled a laugh from me, but she didn’t know what happened next.
“This is serious. Listen. I swung the sword again and watched the blood spray all over my skirt. But there was no moo this time, so I looked up, and I saw…” A gag tugged at my tongue. “I saw… I’d cut Angus’ throat.”
“Holy shit!”
Finally, a reaction.
“Horrible, eh?” I peered at her, dread making me want to plug my ears against whatever judgement she came up with.
“You’ve got it bad.”
“What?”
“You, you’re totally hooked on Angus.” She turned to sprinkle grated cheese on the omelet, and then returned the lid to the pan.
“That’s such bullshit!” I got out of bed and moved to the cupboard to get plates.
“Mouldy mildew, mother of mouthmuck, dangle and strangle and death!”
It was never a good sign when Magda quoted The Dark Crystal movie.
I froze, my arms in the cupboard.
“What happened to you?”
She was staring at the scratches on my legs.
“Oh,” I pulled the plates out and lowered my heels to the floor. “I fell into a bush.”
She tilted her head to the side and scowled at my thighs. With one hand, I tried to tug the nightie down.
She pinned me with her stare. “Are you sure someone didn’t fall into your bush?”
An memory of grinding myself against Lennox burst into my consciousness, and my face lit up with shame.
I put the plates down on the table, making sure not to slam them, then changed the subject.
“My nightmare is not about me wanting Angus, I dreamt about him last night, too.”
Time ticked while I waited for her to be redirected. Then she was.
“Aha! Point proven. Two nights in a row.” Magda carried the frying pan over and cut the omelet in half. “There’s no toast. Your bread was moldy.”
“Magda,” I sat and stared woefully at the food. “I’m cutting him in my dreams.”
“Of course you are.” She put the pan on the stove and came back. “It’s exactly how you would love someone. Punish him for making you fall in love—for making you vulnerable.”
Doubt froze me. Was I really so pathetic?
Magda sat down, then stabbed at her omelet and stuffed a forkful in her mouth.
“I wuv yoo,” She mocked in a Dracula voice, slicing at the air with her butter knife and giggling around the egg.
Maybe Magda wasn’t so far off. I had cut Lennox’s lips with my teeth and it had been a major turn on.
The kettle started to whistle giving me an excuse to escape her scrutiny.
“Let me ask you this...” Magda talked with her mouth full. “Do you want him?”
I took my time putting the teabags in the teapot, remembering the way Angus had held me while he’d kissed me, right here in my apartment. Could it have been only yesterday?
Then last night, when we were dancing, I had been heady at his closeness. With my arms around his neck and my body lined up against his, it was like slipping two pieces of a puzzle together. We fit perfectly into each other’s dips and curves. And when he held me in his arms, it felt natural, like there was no other place I should ever be. There was no doubt I wanted him.
Did Angus want me? There was no denying the bulge in his pants when we danced together. No avoiding it either. He seemed to seek me out, but then he would pull away, making excuses about timing. And him laughing up at the waitress, and giving his attention to Karen at the restaurant were not the best moves for a guy looking to score.
I poured the hot water into the teapot while Magda was strangely silent behind me. Lennox had said Angus wasn’t my friend. He’d been wanting to tell me something. But every guy who wants in my pants tries to oust his buddies with bullshit. It was Lesson number one from Woman Manipulation Class.
It had worked for him, too. He had gotten into my panties. Or I had ripped them off for him. Only, being with Lennox hadn’t purged my need for Angus. I couldn’t remember the whole night, but I knew how I felt now. I wasn’t as wound up, but thinking of Angus was reigniting my heat. I didn’t just need a quick fix, I needed the man himself.
Magda was putting her fork down when I turned back to the table.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed, seeing her empty plate.
She was eyeing my food, and I wasn’t hungry anyway, so I offered it to her. Just before she stuffed in the first forkful, she stopped and asked, “Did your doctor say you were underweight?”
Before I could answer, she laughed and corrected herself. “Oh no, that was Angus.”
I frowned, thinking back to the restaurant and the steak conversation. “He didn’t exactly say that.”
I sat down beside her and sipped the tea, burning my tongue.
“Speaking of your doctorrr...” Magda dragged out the word until I filled in the name.
“Casbus.”
“Right.” She gulped a mouthful of tea. “So, this cassette tape…”
“What cassette tape?”
“The cassette we played yesterday on my ghetto blaster?”
I shrugged.
“The one that’s in my bag?” she tried again, but I just opened my eyes wider.
“Did you hit your head last night?” She started digging through my knotty hair.
I slapped her arm away. “Get off!”
Then I ran my fingers over my scalp checking for bumps.
She let the subject go, stood up and rubbed her belly, “Mmmm mmm! You don’t know what you missed.”
She grabbed her bag and dug inside of it, pulling items out and making a mess all over the table and chair. When it was empty, she turned the bag upside down and gave it a shake.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
She stuck her hand inside, again.
“Chill out, Magda, I have shampoo and stuff if you need it.”
“You’re not fooling anyone,” she gave me a dirty look.
“What?” I laughed.
She repacked the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I cooked, you do dishes.”
She disappeared into my washroom, reappearing with her hair brushed and her clothes changed ten minutes later.
“Oh yeah, I promised Colin we’d go over to his place today.”
I looked up from my teacup in shock. “You promised what?”
“We’ll go over, watch movies all afternoon, and then leave.”
“Well... I work tomorrow.”
I was annoyed she would volunteer me for another visit with the Scotsmen, even if this was my way back to Angus.
“Sooooooo?”
“So, maybe I need a break from the haggis eaters!”
She put her hands on her hips. “Isn’t it you who always says, ‘might as well make it a party?”
“I never say that.”
She pursed her lips at me until I couldn’t stand her hard scrutiny any more.
“Fine! We’ll go!”
“So, hurry up, already.”
While brushing my teeth, I remembered I had left my bra and undies in the washroom earlier that night. A quick glance around proved they were gone.
“Where’s my bra?”
Magda was fiddling with something by the front door. “I put it in the sink to soak. Looks like you got blood on it or something.”
Alarm pricked over my scalp. Had she had checked the crotch of my panties, too?
She turned and looked directly at me. “Did someone hurt you last night?”
I cut my eyes to the side and resisted the urge to cover my body with my arms.
“Of course not.”
“Did you hurt someone else?”
“Jesus, Magda! Who would I hurt?”
She let that question hang in the air for a good minute. They she grabbed the door nob and turned it.
“I’m going out to buy smokes. Be ready when I get back.”
CHAPTER 25: THE PRICE OF EGGS
~
I DIDN’T GET READY RIGHT away. As soon as Magda was out the door, I put a new plan into action. I hadn’t told her everything about my dream. She didn’t know about my ancestor’s diary. I hadn’t thought of it, but the nightmare had triggered a memory of his scribblings.
My great-great-grandfather had been a boring and long-winded writer. He wrote shit I had never been interested in. Mom used to read to me from the tea-coloured pages of his old journal, because it always put me asleep.
But now, thanks to his desire to record his life’s details, I finally had some dots to connect. I just needed Magda to stay away long enough for me to do it.
I put on one oven mitt, then dragged a kitchen chair under my secret ceiling tile, and pushed the tile forward. It snagged on Donald’s coat.
“Damn!”
After my actions with Lennox, Donald’s coat was looking like a liability, and with the landlord letting Magda into my apartment, it was time to clean house. With the oven mitt, I pulled the Muskoka jacket down, letting it fall to the floor.
Reaching up into the dark space above my head, my hand slipped over my mother’s diaries, a stack of pink and blue Hillary notebooks tied together with twine. I balanced on my toes until my grasping fingers found the fragile edges of the leather-bound journal. I carefully pulled it out, stepped down to gingerly lay it on the bed, and then replaced the ceiling tile.
Before I could read anything, Donald’s jacket had to be disposed of. It was lying on the floor looking way too much like an upper torso with splayed arms. I picked it up and held it close to my nose. Giving it a sniff, I hoped to trigger some clue as to how I’d ended up with it in the first place. Even with his barbeque meat scent in my nostrils, my mind stayed locked down with no revealing images playing to tell the story.
No matter—the coat was on its way out.
Carrying the chair against my hip, I banged my way into the metal shower stall. The ceiling was open above it. Climbing onto the chair, I cautiously raised my head into the three feet of open space between the upper floor joists and the top of the shower stall.
