Dark Day Dreams, page 9
The nymph replied, “Oh, I was an Army brat so we were always moving from place to place. My parents live in North Carolina currently and I moved to Chicago about six months ago.”
They continued to share their life stories for a while. Cassandra quite enjoyed making hers up as she went along. She even threw tales about an abusive boyfriend into the mix just for fun…she knew how a lot of modern women liked watching movies on the Lifetime channel built around that particular theme.
As they were drinking their second round of wine, Cassandra looked deep into Tina’s eyes and asked her if she considered herself a happy person. The barista hesitated to answer at first but there was something about her lunch partner’s gaze that just seemed to melt away any and all reluctance. She said, “No, not really.”
Cassandra reached over and gently touched Tina’s left wrist. She said, “Why is that, do you think?”
A tear slid down Tina’s face. “Sometimes I just hate myself so much. I put on a bunch of weight when I was sixteen and all of a sudden it just seemed like so many of my options were gone. I never dated much. As a matter of fact, I got scared to even think about that sort of stuff because I didn’t want to end up in a situation where people might ridicule me.”
“Is that something you saw happen to other girls?”
“Oh, yeah. A lot of popular high school kids like nothing better than being able to mock some poor overweight girl who has the audacity to think she might deserve to enjoy life like they do.”
The nymph felt very badly for her new friend. She’d been around long enough to know how important it was for young mortals to learn the ways of love, to taste both the sour pain and glorious joy of it. The natural rhythm of Tina’s life had been thrown off…if she didn’t experience these things to some extent now it might cloud her vision about the grand possibilities of life.
Tina wiped her eyes with a napkin. Cassandra said, “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“It’s okay, Cassie. It actually feels good to be able to talk about it with somebody.”
“Can’t you share your feelings with your co-workers?”
“Oh, you mean because they’re all overweight too?”
Cassandra felt bad but plunged ahead. “Well, I just assumed you’re all friends because you work together every day.”
Tina took a sip of her wine and then said, “Yeah, we’re friends. But we don’t talk about any of this stuff because what would be the point…I’m overweight, you’re overweight, let’s all sit around and have a big pity party. It wouldn’t change anything.”
Cassandra put her hand on Tina’s shoulder and said, “Well, I understand. But I want you to know, I’m always here to listen and help if possible. And please tell your friends the same goes for them.”
Tina said thanks. Deep down in her brain, there was a voice telling her how weird this was but this strange rush of good feelings about Cassie drowned it out.
***********
The next few days, Tina thought a lot about her conversation with Cassie. She realized the past couple years she’d been walking around in a sort of daze, just doing her best not to think about her weight problem and how it gotten substantially worse the past couple years.
It was so fucking unfair that one personal failing should dictate the course of your life.
She knew some of her feelings were based on self-pity. She could exercise more and certainly lay off the sweet goodies so readily available where she worked. But part of her felt so hopeless, so locked into a future where she was overweight, lonely and sadly willing to accept so much less out of life than other people she saw walking down the street every day.
There was something different about talking to Cassie. She’d had talks with her mother about these issues but she always ended up feeling angry, embarrassed and frustrated…probably because she felt like she was disappointing the woman who gave birth to her.
But Cassie was that rarest of people…a truly gorgeous woman who seemed to actually care. It was so empowering to know there was somebody out there who understood the hurt Tina had to endure and was willing to listen and even help if she could.
A week later, Cassie invited Tina and her co-worker Jessie out to lunch. And then a week after that, Susie, Amara and Charlene were added to the mix and they all went out to a very nice bar. Cassie sprung for the appletinis.
Amara said, “Wow, this is fun. I don’t know why we haven’t all gotten together for a girl’s night before this.”
Cassandra raised her glass and made a toast. “Here’s to all you lovely ladies. It’s nice to know you.”
Tina smiled and thought about how nice it was to know somebody like her new friend…somebody who always knew how to make you feel good about yourself.
Cassandra got to know all the young women. Her eyes glowed with interest and they were all eager to share their experiences, dreams and sorrows. None of them had endured much abuse but then again, none of them were truly happy at this point in their lives. The main thing they seemed to have in common was that when they were in their teens, they’d lost the weight battle. And ever since, that loss had loomed over their lives like an eclipse blocking out the sun.
During the third round of drinks, Cassandra said, “I hope I’m not being insensitive here but can I ask you girls a question about your weight?”
The group suddenly grew quiet. But the combination of alcohol and Cassandra’s persuasive manner seemed to overcome their hesitation to speak. Jessie bravely replied, “Sure, what do you want to know?”
“Do you feel like you’ve made every effort to have better bodies?”
Amara said, “I do. I’ve starved myself and worked out until I was so sore I could hardly get out of bed the next morning.”
Tina said, “I’ve dieted, exercised and taken pills that made me so tense I thought I was having a heart attack.”
Jessie said, “I actually considered taking Meth. I know I would have lost all my teeth but at least I would have been thin.”
Charlene said, “One time I walked and ran twenty miles wearing three layers of clothing on a hot day. The EMT said I nearly suffered a heat stroke.”
Cassandra put her hands together and looked out over the table. She said, “I hear what you’re saying and my heart goes out to you. I believe something in nature is out of balance and the result is many, many of our young women are suffering from the same condition you do.”
Normally, Tina’s sense of skepticism would have kicked in by now. But like the rest of the young women, she was helpless to resist the sound of Cassandra’s voice and the fire in her eyes. It was a hypnotic power unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.
Cassandra continued. “I’ve studied history all my life and one thing I’ve learned is that despite what we humans might think, rituals have their place and sometimes sacrifices must be made in order to maintain certain important rhythms and appease forces in nature we may not fully comprehend.”
Amara said, “So, are you saying we should burn some sage or do some kind of dance naked under the full moon?”
Her friends all giggled.
Cassandra replied, “No, it will take a much more substantial act than that. In order for all of you to look the way you want, the life of one person outside this group must be extinguished. And it must be a particular kind of person…a thin one who seems to have no problem whatsoever staying that way.”
They all had shocked looks on their faces. Charlene said, “Okay, this is either one hell of a prank or you are a seriously crazy bitch.”
Susie nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe you just said that, Cassie. There’s more to life than the way we look.”
Everyone left except Cassandra and Tina. The barista looked at her new friend and said, “I can’t believe what a freak you are. I thought we were just going to have a good time and then you pull this stunt.”
“You know why they reacted so strongly, Tina. It’s because their pain is so great and their need is so strong.”
“How could you suggest something like that?”
“Suggest is the operative word here, Tina. It’s not something I’ve done or ever will do. But it is a solution for the problem you all share. Do it or don’t do it, it matters not to me.”
“What’s in it for you? Why did you present this idea to us?”
Cassandra put a hand on Tina’s arm and said, “I don’t know, just satisfaction of a sort, I suppose. I see so many unhappy, frustrated people in this world and it feels good to open a window and show them other ways to solve their problems. By the way, there’s one more detail I forgot to mention before…the sacrifice will solve the problem for one calendar year. And during that year, you will be able to eat or drink as much of anything you want and never have to worry about gaining an ounce.”
Tina stood up and said, “You’re crazy.” Then she walked out of the bar.
************
The baristas didn’t talk about that night much for a few weeks. It felt like a bad dream that was hard to stop thinking about. Bad and sort of delicious in a way.
One morning, a regular named Mindy came into the store. She was five six and had short blonde hair. The second you looked at her, you automatically knew she was one of those people who hadn’t experienced even one day of fatness since becoming a toddler. She exercised a bit but only because it was good for her mood. And her mood was rarely anything but first rate.
She was looking over the baked goods and Amara said, “See anything you like?”
Mindy looked the barista up and down and replied, “No, but I bet you do.”
It was strange…even though they were all busy, the baristas all heard what the customer said. Those six words were as loud and clear and destructive as the sound of a terrorist’s bomb exploding.
That evening, they met at Charlene’s apartment. Cassandra joined them but she didn’t attempt to control the meeting. She just sat quietly and let them deal with the matter.
They weren’t sure they could go through with actually killing the woman. But they all agreed it would be good to at least give her a good scare, make her stop and think about how she treated other people in the future. Cassandra finally spoke up and said she had a sleeping potion they could put in Mindy’s drink. One of them would need to follow her out of the store and guide her to a car while she was drugged but still able to walk. Cassandra had a place they could take the victim.
The fire glowed in her eyes and swept away their reservations. They were all feeling the same thing…this was a chance to actually have some power, a chance to call the shots and make someone else feel at least some of the pain they’d endured all these years.
Six days later, Susie watched as Mindy left the store. She’d probably drunk half the drugged latte. She only made it a couple of blocks and then had to sit down on a bus bench because she was feeling light headed.
Susie was wearing a ski mask and a hoodie. She helped Mindy into her own car and she would give her a ride home. The customer passed out in the back seat.
Mindy woke up eight hours later. She was sitting in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair. She said, “Where am I? What’s going on?”
The women stepped out of the shadows. All of them except Cassandra were wearing crimson masks and robes. The nymph was holding a large kitchen knife. She said, “You will be sacrificed so five other women will regain control of their lives. Your generosity is such a wonderful gift and they thank you.”
The baristas began singing:
Rain for sun
Sun for rain
Make somebody want me
Use this pain
They repeated the verse six times.
Mindy began screaming for help and Cassandra walked up behind her. She said, “Oh universe, I beseech you to receive this offering and restore the balance for these women.”
Cassandra handed a large knife to Susie…who then cut Mindy’s throat.
************
They began losing weight the next day and after two months they all looked the way they wanted. It turned out that working at Starbuck’s was a great place to get hit on if you were attractive enough. They had small waists, perfect asses and lovely breasts and soon all five of them were getting all the attention they could handle.
A month before the one-year anniversary of Mindy’s death they began checking out the skinny women who came into the store. Now that they truly loved themselves, there was no going back to the way things used to be.
The Cost of Caring
Mitch Palmer staggered into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. He’d always joked with friends that he was never really sure reality was reality until there was some caffeine in his blood and brain.
His wife Lilah was still in bed. She had never been a morning person and told him early in their relationship she would rather sleep another half an hour in the morning and then scramble around getting ready for work if necessary.
The next part of Mitch’s AM routine was sitting down on the leather couch in the living room and turning on the television. He liked to see what was happening in the news…sometimes he checked a New York station but more often than not it was MSNBC or CNN. He preferred stories about politics or war in the Middle East to what he thought of as the drip-drip-drip perspective of local news…two dead in a Queens robbery attempt, a warning about swimming at a particular beach, a cute story about a cat that can play Scrabble.
There was breaking news. A mass shooting at a church in some suburb near Albuquerque. Mitch felt his heart start pounding, it seemed like there had been so many of these incidents the past few years.
The host of the broadcast was summarizing the story so far. “Authorities there in New Mexico are telling us this terrible crime was perpetrated by two gunmen and both were shot dead just a few minutes ago by a SWAT team. The count so far is twenty-four dead and probably twice that number injured. The reason there were so many people at the church on a weekday was due to the fact a conference on national immigration policies was taking place.”
Mitch was having a hard time focusing. He felt bad (just like always) about the carnage. But he was also thinking about what a mad crush he had on the blonde woman on the screen telling him the story. So many of the news anchors these days looked like they should be featured in the Sports Illustrated swim suit issue.
The object of his desire continued her report. “We’re hearing that the two gunmen were wearing flak jackets with a particular kind of patch on the shoulder. It’s the one representing an organization called AFO, which stands for Americans for Order. Our research shows this is a relatively small Southwest based white supremacist group that has taken a militant stand against illegal immigrants and anybody in this country who is thought to be aiding them in any way. They believe the Catholic Church here in America has been complicit in helping undocumented Latinos not only make their way to this country but also stay here. I’m guessing they saw this conference as a ripe target.”
Lilah trudged into the room, her light brown hair standing up comically. She yawned and noticed what was happening on the television screen. She said, “What’s going on?”
Mitch took a sip of coffee and replied, “Just another mass shooting. This one was about religion and politics, I guess.”
“Here in New York?”
“No, out in New Mexico. They’re saying twenty-four dead so far…”
She rubbed the sleep out of an eye. “That’s sad. You better go use the bathroom, sweetie. You don’t want to be late for work.” He laughed. “Sure, I’ll go get my shower over with so you can start your magical makeup process.”
While she was pouring coffee into her cup she replied, “You have no idea how lucky you were to be born with a penis.”
Mitch was always amazed how his thoughts seemed to turn philosophical when he was standing in the shower. He wondered if Aristotle and those other wise guys back in the day had their best thoughts while soaking in hot water.
He thought about how different his reaction to Lilah’s nonchalance this morning would have been five years ago. As a matter of fact, they’d had a couple of pretty huge fights after the terrorist attack in San Diego and the right wing group’s Oklahoma theatre massacre a few months later. In both cases, she said she felt sad for the people who died or were injured and pretty much left it at that.
He’d always had the attitude that how you responded to this kind of stuff revealed a lot about your character and how much empathy/sympathy your soul contains.
When the volume and duration of her despair seemed weak after the incident in San Diego, he angrily said it bothered him how little she seemed to care about what happened to all those poor people.
They were sitting in a Manhattan restaurant at the time. He normally didn’t like to fight with her in public but felt like this particular emotional itch needed to be scratched pronto.
She took a sip of her Chardonnay and replied, “Of course I care. I genuinely feel terrible for everybody who died or got hurt. I feel terrible for their families and friends and I feel terrible for this whole fucking country. I feel terrible for the president because he’ll have to go on television and once again do the thing he probably likes doing least in the whole world. But I also realized something really terrible a few years ago…”
“What’s that?”
She sat there for a couple beats and then replied, “I realized this is just our world now, at least here in the good old US of A. We still have regular murders but that number has gone down dramatically over the past forty years. The thing that has increased are these mass shootings where somebody is trying to make a point. Could be a jihadist, could be a gun obsessed white guy or it could be some pimply faced momma’s boy who thinks a bunch of other people should die because he somehow ended up being a socially awkward moron who’s incapable of even asking a girl out on a date.”
