2024-04-13
They had effortlessly cruised over many layers of ice in getting to the concert hall. But that was not surprising. Taxis were modern machines and they were constructed for that purpose. Benny offered his hand as she exited the cab but she waved it away. She made sure her black ballgown didn't touch the thin layer of water on top of the ice lining the street. No, what was surprising was that the ice hanging from the eaves and cornices and snow piled up in wind-chuffed drifts was all painted now in a yellow tinted hue from the sodium streetlights. And eventually when spring would come marching in to repair that damage in time, turning all colors higgledy-piggledy, then in one violent and beautifully dissolute sweep. People passing by her looking about all seemed to be in the greatest of rush and she stood without any rush without a jacket beneath the stairs of the royal opera.
They made their way up the red carpet with linked arms, saying nothing, his face plastered with a winsome smile, up towards the foyer with the ten thousand lights lining the ceiling, enveloping it all in a heavenly white glow. And in that sea of black dresses and black tailcoats all perfectly illuminated, all perfectly known, she could think of no thing prettier than the way that the snow drifted in the yellow light outside. How it piled up in a perfect and soft layer every night and then was destroyed as soon as people went to work in the morning.
'It's ironic,' she said, 'How ice seems to burn against the skin when you ---'
'Hold on,' Benny said, 'I'll go and grab some champagne.'
She supported her chin against her arm leaned on the small round high table and looked at the jewel-encrusted clock on the wall. The concert would start in fifteen minutes. The jewels glimmered from the strip of lights in the ceiling above.
'Here we go,' Benny said, 'I made sure we got the good stuff.'
'That's good.' she said and sipped the champagne.
'The conceirge said the concert would start soon.'
'Yes it does.'
'I made sure that we got the seats we booked.'
She nodded.
'Sometimes they get it mixed up.' he said, and she saying nothing, continuing, 'I talked with Mark and he'd spoken with Antony and everything seems to be in order.'
She laughed.
'What's funny?' he asked.
'Oh, it's nothing.' she said.
'Well, I've just got to take care of a few visa applications and send them in. But all the paperwork on their end is taken care of.'
She nodded, 'That's good.'
'What's wrong?' he asked.
'I'm fine.'
He eyed her suspiciously and sipped his champagne. 'Okay.'
'It's nothing big.'
Benny nodded. 'I also have a lead on an apartment right downtown.' He waited for a response but she remained silent. 'It's a big and spacious with a lovely balcony and view over LA. It has a room that we could convert to a studio. For your art and sewing projects.'
'Isn't that nice.'
'I imagine this like so:' he put down the champagne glass and began gesturing with his hands, 'A big table in the middle and then there's this big window where light can come in.'
'Being able to work with the sun sounds lovely.' she said.
'Oh,' he said, 'That's the best thing. Forgot the mention it. Or maybe we've already discussed it. I'm so wound up nowadays that I can't keep it together. But compared to here the sun is actually out all year round. The seasons, with some small variations of course, are always the same.'
'I know.'
'We've already talked about it?'
'In a way.'
'Think about it,' he said, picking up his glass once more, '60 degrees all year round. No more thick jackets. No more staying indoors for weekends. No more darkness.'
'It always gets dark.'
He raised one of his eyebrows, 'Of course it does.' looking for an answer, but she didn't explain it further. 'Emily,' he said, 'I'm sorry if it was something I said. Was it something I said? Tell me, whatever it is, and we can talk about it and it will be better because we talked about it and dealt with it.'
'It is nothing.'
'It's gotta be something. Is it the winter? I know it's been hard. It's been so cold.'
'It's not the winter.'
Benny opened his mouth as if to speak but he was interrupted.
'Benny, my boy.' and Emily leaned against the wall as the two coworkers embraced. Whether they where coworkers or friends did not matter. They were the same. 'I knew you would nip the California contract. Bloody well done.'
'Thank you Sammy, means a lot.' Benny said, 'We were just now discussing the details and all that. You know the housing market, just for starters...'
'Oh yes.' Sammy said, 'But I mean you're gonna make bank either way.'
'Still,' Benny said, 'You don't want to spend money unless you need to.'
Sammy laughed, 'I don't get ya Benny, all the money in the world and still caring about the nitty-gritty.'
'It's so that I can do what I care about. Focusing on that instead of everything else.'
'How you put up with him I'll never know.' Sammy said directed at Emily.
She smiled, 'In bits & pieces.'
After a brief moment of silence Sammy asked them if they were looking forward to the concert.
'Oh yes.' Benny said.
'I hardly know anything about it.' Emily said.
'You've never seen it before?' Sammy asked.
'Never.'
'You have heard it before.' Benny said.
'I don't think I have.'
Benny breathed in as if to continue, but then stopping, ultimately saying 'Yeah, maybe you haven't.'
'It's about love which could never be.' Sammy said.
'How so?' she said.
'They're twins for starters.'
'Come on, that's some serious spoilers.' Benny said.
'I don't speak German anyways.' Emily said.
'Well, they're separated at birth and there's a prophecy in there keeping them together or something like that...' he tapered off, 'I forget.'
'It's okay.' she said, 'Love which cannot be.'
'Well that's just it. It really isn't only about forbidden love, it's more about the uncertainty of how things will end up and how people will react...' The man looked at his watch. 'Oh my. It starts in five minutes. I've got to find my seat. Don't want to miss anything, am I right? Emily, lovely to see you as always. And Benny, see you back at the office.' Sammy walked off and returned as the wave to the vast ocean of anonymous black. Emily heard the bill ring.
'Come on, honey, we've also got to take our seats.' Benny said.
'But I haven't finished my champagne.' she said.
'You can finish it in there.'
'I'd like to finish it out here.'
'Okay.' he said. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, 'Can't wait for this winter to end. I've had enough of this infernal cold. And darkness.'
'I think it's fine.' she said.
'Just wait 'til we get to California, and we'd just be able to enjoy ourselves everyday the same. Everyday a little piece of heaven.'
'Everyday can't be perfect.'
'Well, of course not.'
'You know, I heard from a friend of mine that there's a place in LA where they have snow year-round in some indoor stadium. You pay just to walk around and feel it and you can order hot chocolates in small Styrofoam cups for \$6.'
'I didn't know you loved the snow so much, but we can go if you'd like to.'
'As if there weren't enough of that pretending goin' 'round.'
'What?'
'Nothing.'
'What's with you today?'
'What do you mean?'
'You're in a very peculiar mood. And I can't quite place it.' he said, 'Come on now, the concert is nearly starting.'
'Did you know that I knew you were going to say that?' she said, not really expecting an answer, 'Just as I know the sound you make every morning as you make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.'
'Snap out of it. Whatever it is.' Anger wasn't his style.
'Exactly as I thought.' she said.
And Benny looked at her as if from a distance. She had seen that look man times and she knew what would come next. There would be the initial period of frost and rebuttal and then the gradual thawing and orange warmth that trickled gradually, eventually transforming to an uncertain smile. Which was really the same as no change at all. As if it had been 60 degrees always and always would, and change was not change but the lie one told oneself looking into the mirror stretching ones cheeks to see if there were any wrinkles. She took Benny's hand that he offered, and allowed herself to be led into the theatre. The lights dimmed as they sat down in their seat.
She sat with her back straight and hands clasped between her legs and she saw Benny lean over as if to speak, but ultimately retreating. She saw in the periphery how he shrunk back into his seat, nearly disappearing, just as she was caught by the sweeping strings coming swinging from the dark. In powerful waves where every crest and trough occurred predictably but never made itself known. And then to that backdrop of ocean and wind and snow and rhythm that tickled the low parts of ones mind, suddenly and surprisingly, a small flute. It pierced the surface tension effortlessly, and glided naturally over the summoned ocean, soaring to infinite space and beyond. It was the lithe bird that carried you safely over the ocean to see all of its beauty, even though the beauty was violent and utterly capricious. The bird was as brave as any thing can be. As its hostage she was carried from fantastical to the absolutely ordinary, and back. Every moment stretched out to eternity, flying just above the surface, impossible high and impossibly low.
Much later after some number of act pauses where she and Benny talked about things she did not remember, just as the rising flurry of notes quite abruptly came to form what felt the outline of the person she had always hoped to meet, she came to recognize the feeling. The way her mouth turned dry but she was not thirsty. The way she felt her fingers prickle and hands shaking. The way she felt devoid of air as if she couldn't breath but everything was just as it should be. At last the shadow appeared before her and she heard the whisper of a promise, but as she came to try to meet it, it withdrew and transformed into the echo of her own voice against the opera walls, slowly, but certainly, everlasting and exploding over all time and forever. The truth that is beyond the two infinites of heaven and hell: that life is short and we waste much of it pretending it isn't. But the grasping for that which is beyond is what makes it all worthwhile.
And then as the actress stood hovering over the love that she could never have as he was dying up on the stage and crying and Emily looking at her watch and realizing the act was ending soon, and from her raw and piercing howling of pain and the swelling of strings to a terrible roar, one could not dare doubt that truth. Emily knew then something was missing in life, in contrast to that which had already arrived.
The curtain closed and everybody shot up and they gave thunderous applause. Emily wiped the tears from her eyes and looked out over the bubbling black ocean but she did not find it anonymous anymore. Jutting out from the seats below were, just like her, those buoys drifting gently along on the ferocious and unrelenting waves. The applause came to a halt and she along with the rest eventually flowed out with the waves back to the foyer as the lights came on, but Emily drifted further and found herself caught by a current carrying her out towards the steps looking out the street. Her breath, slow and mechanical, exhaling white smoke that rose and fell. She rubbed her arms out of instinct even though she felt warm.
'Honey, what's going on?' Benny said, 'You're starting to worry me.'
'I don't need--- Never mind.'
'What?'
'My thoughts were elsewhere.' she said.
'Are you okay?' he moved closer although still behind her. She remained steadfast.
'How did you like the opera?' she asked with shivering breath.
'It's good, although it is a little boring sometimes, wouldn't you agree?' he said. She remained silent, 'Of course, it's not over yet so maybe I will be proven wrong ---'
'I think I'm going to go.' she said suddenly.
'You're what?' he said, 'The opera isn't finished yet.'
'I think I'm done.' she said.
'Well...' he said, 'Well, let me just go and say goodbye to Sammy and we can call for a cab.'
'I will go alone.'
'What?'
'I'm feeling in the mood for a walk.'
'You must be joking.'
'I'll be fine.'
'You don't have a jacket.'
'I'll be fine.'
'Okay let's go.'
'No, I'll go alone.'
They said nothing. She remained facing the street. Benny was behind her. Then he said, 'Fine.' and she turned around and saw him go inside, adjusting his woollen tailcoat jacket as he passed back into the ocean. Emily instead drifted farther away from shore, taking one step at a time, but all at once, until she was finally on the level of ice sheets floating over the layers of old cobblestone, walking with resolute steps towards nothing in particular.
A couple of blocks later as the buildings turned even older than the old opera, she finally found herself outside a bar with an open window with warm laughter and dim lighting and breath of fire pouring out towards the street. There, too, an icicle was hanging from the eaves. It was so long that it nearly touched the street. It was dripping, drop-by-drop, to form a temporary canyon towards the grate in the middle of the street where she was standing. One could see water flowing but one could not hear it because of the laughter coming in from the window. She grabbed the icicle and broke it off. Not soon after it began to burn red hot against the prickly stiff hand, dripping water down below. Emily leaned down and she could hear each drop hitting the ground. If only she could stay out long enough, or hold it slightly differently enough, perhaps it wouldn't melt and disappear inside the grate. Perhaps ice would remain as ice in her hand forever.
But Emily dropped the icicle and it smashed into four pieces, strewn indiscriminately and without passion below. She went inside the bar.
Nothing had ever been easier.