PART FIVE – The End
Ed woke feeling hot and sticky, sprawled on the couch with the morning sun flowing through the window and pooling on his face. His mouth tasted awful, like a mouse nest. Apart from that image, his mind was a blank, and he struggled to sit upright, dislodging Vanessa from his chest in the process. She skittered away on stiff legs and hid behind a stack of books.
Toby sat at the breakfast bar, once more indulging in beer and cornflakes. “Welcome back to the Land of the Living, Brother.”
For a panicked moment, Ed thought he heard two voices speaking, at least one of which was utterly impossible. “Uhh.” He blinked at Toby. He couldn’t remember how to speak.
“Ed?” Toby quirked an eyebrow at his roommate.
Ed shook his head. He felt dozens of questions pushing at his brain, but the only thing that made it to his tongue was, “There’s a squirrel in Nantucket who wears a tarnished halo and knows where all my lost keys are.” He put his hands over his face and took a deep breath.
Toby dropped his spoon. He stood with uncharacteristic sharpness and strode to the couch, where he sat and gripped Ed’s shoulders. “Tell me your name!”
Ed blinked. “Edward Alan Thomas.”
Toby nodded. “Where do you live?”
“Thirty-seven Front Street number seven.”
“Good boy,” Toby said. “What is the one thing you are absolutely certain of in this world?”
“I’m not sure what I want, but I’m damn well going to get it.” Ed looked surprised to hear himself saying that.
“Thank god,” Toby said, and hugged Ed. “It’s you.” He stood and went back to his breakfast.
Ed shook his head again, images sleeting across his mind’s eye. “Toby. About last night.” He looked at Toby, who sat waiting for a further prompt. “There’s, um, a lot of things that I think I remember. But they couldn’t possibly have happened. Right?”
Toby laughed. “I have got to get a mike setup the next time we party. Your head was in a space that would have made Hunter S. proud.”
“Right,” Ed said as one face in particular kept appearing in his mind, “But did anyone actually come over?”
“Just the pizza guy,” Toby said, crunching away. “That was probably my favorite part of the night. Guy gave you a ten dollar tip after you helped him figure out what to do about his dad.”
“What?”
“Most insightful solution to a family feud I’ve ever heard, man, and I watch a lot of Dr. Phil.” Toby grinned.
Another thought muscled into Ed’s mind, and his heart sank. “What time is it?” Every electronic device in view seemed to have completely powered off.
“Do not be bothered by considerations of eternity.” Toby smiled. “I already called your boss and instructed him as to the impossibility of your laboring this day.”
Ed’s heart surged. “Thanks. I, uh, have something to take care of.” He stood and started for the door.
“I know you do, son. I know you do. But Ed?”
Ed stopped and turned back to Toby. “Yeah?”
“Pants?”
“Christ. Thanks, man.” Ed detoured to his room for a pair of jeans.
Toby shook his head. “Boy does like to take off his pants when he’s drunk.”
*
Opening the door this time seemed the most natural thing in the world to Ed; it felt as if it were something he did every day, instead of the Herculean task he remembered from his last trip to Catania’s. He took a deep, easy breath and knocked; he wondered what he would say when the door opened.
Catania again answered the door in the cat-eared hoodie, this time augmented by leopard print leggings. Ed froze, and his mind, previously full of possible conversations, blanked completely.
“Ed. Nice to see you. What can I do for you? Need a cup of sugar?”
Ed shook his head, mind still blank. “I….” He frowned, and his eyes slid away from her. In his mind, a tiny man shouted at him. “I guess I just need to talk to you.”
“Sure,” Cat said. “Can you hang on a second?”
She waited until he nodded and said, “Yeah,” and then she darted her head into the hallway, scanning both directions in the space of a heartbeat. She grabbed a handful of Ed’s shirt and with shocking strength yanked him into her apartment, slamming him against the wall as she slammed the door shut. A large, glossy black semiautomatic appeared in the hand that wasn’t holding Ed to the wall.
A bemused expression took over his face, and Ed said mildly, “We’ve been through this before.” He tried gently to push her away, to push off the wall, but she slammed him back again.
Oh yes, he thought, Peacefulness can be hard work. His second and third thoughts had nothing to say this time; they were in complete accord.
“Shh!” Catania cocked her head, listening for sounds beyond the door. After a few seconds of hearing nothing but the clock ticking she turned and walked up to her living room. “Come on in,” she said, motioning with the pistol.
Ed shrugged, surprised by his real lack of response to the gun, and walked slowly up the stairs to Cat’s apartment. He looked around again with what seemed to him to be new eyes, and he found he still quite liked the place. The statues were perhaps a little overdone, but the color scheme remained as warm as ever, and the extensive use of textiles just called to him to touch everything. Except maybe the guns. He thought he knew what that was all about, and he planned to find out. He suddenly felt like he was reading his own thoughts from cue cards, but he couldn’t stop now.
“You know,” he said as he seated himself on the sofa, “There are things about this place that just don’t match up with the face you show the world.” He looked at Cat, his head tilted to the left. Might as well jump right in.
“Is that so?” Cat said. She sat on the opposite end of the sofa; the pistol had disappeared.
Ed nodded. “Yup.” There was a pause as he tried to martial his thoughts. A little help here, he asked himself. “May I have a cup of coffee?” he asked, to buy a little more time.
“Of course.”
Ed watched her walk to the samovar, and was reminded of something, Waves, he thought, and he looked away before she turned.
“Thanks,” he said as she handed him a tiny cup. He looked around her apartment again as she sat, and reflexively sighed. Nike. Goddess of victory. ‘Just do it!’
“You know, for a little while, I thought maybe the tough-girl act you put on – the job – I thought maybe that was just a mask, armor, to protect the softness and the warmth of your real self, as revealed by this place.” He wanted to look at her, to gauge her reactions, but he didn’t dare. He soldiered on. “But then I can’t shake the feeling that this place was a mask also. Kind of. An image you project of the way you think the world should perceive you. But it’s not your core, either. I think it’s just another layer. Like, the crazy gun lady/tough cop is your face for the world, and this apartment is your face for your family and friends. Or maybe you’ve got something else for your friends. I don’t know.” He wondered for a moment if she had any friends, really, and the thought made him look at her. She looked puzzled. Ed honestly felt the same way; he couldn’t figure out where he was going. Just jump, he thought. “So I have to ask, Cat, before we continue this relationship, is just who are you? Really?”
He knew he was screwing this up. The words were wrong. The meaning was there, but it was obscured by the fucked up words. A tiny man in glowing armor shouted at him from the back of his mind, but he ignored the non-sequitor.
Cat shook her head and laughed in disbelief. “Wow. This is just…totally unexpected.” She grabbed a cushion and hugged it to her chest. “Although I suppose I should have expected this kind of New Age crap from a drugged-out slacker. Toby’s got a hell of a hold over you, doesn’t he? That’s too bad.” She dropped the pillow into her lap and arched her back, stretching against the hoodie. “I was getting to like you. I was even thinking of giving you some access.” She pulled the pillow back up, folded back in on herself. “But now. I don’t think so.”
It was Ed’s turn to shake his head. “Cat.” He had screwed it up. Damn. But he had to press on.
The gun reappeared in Cat’s hand. “No, Ed. Really. I think it’s time you leave. All this crap about masks is a major turn-off.” She waved the gun. “You know the way.”
He tried again. “All right. Not masks. Walls. You’ve got a shitload of walls protecting you from something you fear in the world, and I’ve challenged them.” He pointed at the pillow. “You’re even erecting physical barriers between us.” As if I’m scary. He almost snorted at the thought.
She angrily flung the pillow away, but kept the gun pointed at him.
“But the question remains, Cat. ‘Who are you?’” And are you, at your core, someone I can really…love?
He looked around the apartment again, and thought, Yes.
“Jesus, Ed. I don’t even know what you’re asking.” She stuffed the gun somewhere behind her and leaned forward. “I mean, I am who I am. No masks, no crap. I don’t know where you’re getting that shit. And if I have any walls between me and the world, it’s because a woman needs them today more than ever. Don’t you get that?” She flopped back against the arm of the sofa and looked away from him. “I mean shit! Have you seen the scumbags out there? A woman can’t help but run into load of creepy assholes, and so if I test you a little, that’s my prerogative.” She looked back at him. “But you blew it, Ed. You really did. You tried to get in my head as a way of getting in my bed and that’s fucked. So you’re out. Just get out.”
Ed knew he had her then. This was just another wall, maybe the last wall. He hoped it was the last wall. God, let it be the last wall. But where’s the fucking door?
“I’m sorry, Cat,” Ed said in a very reasonable tone. He set his coffee down and stood. “I’m sorry you think that.”
All in, he thought. The price of peace is to risk it all.
His tone hardened. “But before I go, think about this. You did your tests. You did the bait and switch, sexy and crazy, crazy and sexy. And I didn’t run away, or least not very far. And I came back.” Oh, I hope honesty is…okay. “And yes, I want into your pants. Of course I do.”
Ed almost stopped. He blushed at some of the images flashing through his head.
“But that’s not why I came back. You and your pants interest me, yeah. But your head interests me more.” He sounded surprised in his own ears. “Yeah, you freaked me out. But I’m still here.” He paused. “I passed.”
He started for the door.
Catania was frozen. She couldn’t move; she could barely breathe. She could only stare at the spot where Ed had been sitting.
Ed stopped at the top of the stairs and turned back to her; his voice softened again. “One more time, Cat. Who are you? What do you really want?” And let it be close to something I can want, he prayed.
He waited a moment longer, but Cat was still frozen. Ed’s heart dropped into his gut; maybe he was wrong. Maybe he’d pushed too hard. It had been a gamble. Too much. He smiled a trembling little smile and turned to leave.
“Ed! Don’t!” Cat stood, her hands clenched in front of her chest, her voice small. “Yeah, you passed. But if you go now, you fail.”
Ed turned, his heart thudding painfully. He didn’t dare smile, but he wanted to grin like an idiot. He had her. He knew it! A small black cat smiled in the back of his mind.
Cat looked like she wanted to say more, but the words weren’t coming. Ed walked very carefully back to her and put his hands on Cat’s shoulders. He looked down at her face, searching.
“Cat? Is that you?”
The expressions crossing her face spoke to him of vulnerability, of fear. “I…. Please.” Her face hardened. “I’ll accept your challenge.” She seemed to hear herself saying this as from a distance, and her words surprised her. Her expression softened, and she said, softly, “But I need help. Will you?”
Ed was shaking; he hugged her, crushed her close and tucked her head under his chin. He felt her whole body stiffen at the contact, but then the tension went out of her as she leaned into him and put her arms around him, and he smiled, really smiled.
Cat said against his chest, “Yeah. You passed, stud. Now let’s see if you can make the grade.”
THE END
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