To Sleep... Perchance to Die Page 2

  “No shit. So this guy, that I didn’t even know, began to really piss me off. I kept asking questions. She said she tried to end it three times, but he kept coming back saying he was sorry, he needed her, and would treat her right. She’d give in and take him back. It would be great for a while, then it would start all over again.” Jake’s voice cracked, “The bruise was the latest example. He has her so messed up, she figured killing herself was the only way out.”

  Jake picked up his scotch, but it had been drained. He raised his hand to Liz, and she started over, but he shook his head and waved a nevermind. Looking at Bret, “It took me a half hour to convince her there were other ways to solve her problem. I’d help her, I said. She stopped crying and started shivering. I wrapped my arms around her and placed her head on my chest. We remained that way for a long time. I told her the son of a bitch would never hit her again. I would see to that. She believes in Fate. Fate, she said, had sent me to her.”

  Jake picked up his empty glass and looked into it, but shook his head and put the glass down. “When the ferry docked, we went to a restaurant in Manhattan. She said her boyfriend’s about to become a partner in an investment banking firm where she’s an executive secretary. Because of office politics, he insisted they keep their relationship secret. At some point as she talked, I realized we were holding hands. Jeez, not only was she beautiful, but you could tell she was really smart.”

  Liz came to the table. “Something wrong with your burger?” she said. Bret looked down. He’d only taken a few bites.

  “Uh, no . . . no. But thanks.”

  “Bring me another scotch,” Jake said, sucking in his lips and glancing at Bret.

  “No don’t. He’ll have one of these.” Bret pointed to the burger.

  Jake’s eyes flashed a warning.

  Liz left.

  When she was out of earshot, Jake relaxed and said, “Thanks … I guess.”

  “No problem. Now, go on.”

  Jake complied. “Her friends at the office noticed the injuries and offered to help. They advised her to call the police.” Jake’s voice broke, “She wanted to confide in someone. To tell what she was going through, but didn’t, afraid of worse beatings if she said anything. It wasn’t fear of being killed. There were times she hoped he would kill her. It was the emotional pain she feared worse than the physical. Killing herself would stop it.”

  Bret took a bite of his hamburger. He understood Jake wanting to protect the woman.

  Jake smiled, “All of a sudden she laughed and said she didn’t want to talk about herself anymore and wanted to know about me. I told her I was married, but I’d help her. We walked to her apartment, and I went in. We settled on the couch and I held her in my arms until she fell asleep, then I covered her with a blanket and left. I was in love.”

  Bret finished the burger with a mouthful of beer and nodded.

  “We’ve been seeing each other every chance we get. Three, maybe four, times a week.

  Jake’s burger arrived, and Liz put a Coke down with it. You’ll need something to drink, so I took a chance with diet.”

  Jake’s “Coke’s fine” lacked sincerity.

  “What’s her name?”

  Jake hesitated, seemed to think about the question. “I’m not ready to go there yet.”

  “Oh? Okay then, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Before, you asked about Rachel and me. Well, I told her I want a divorce.”

  Bret’s eyebrows raised and chin dropped.

  “Don’t worry, she’s fine with it. Saw the writing on the wall. Only thing is, she wants it to appear like her idea, especially to her la-di-da family. For reasons I don’t want to get into, we’re going to wait until I’m through.” Even then, I’ll still have problems.”

  “What kind?”

  “Well, for one thing, the parents of the woman I’ve been telling you about hate Jews and would disown her if they found out she was seeing one. She’s had to keep our relationship from them. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been a bit down lately.”

  A bit?

  “They were in business with a Jewish partner more than twenty some years ago. The business failed, and they blamed the partner.” Jake grabbed his burger. “Same old story, blame the Jew for being underhanded.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “What’s awful? The business going under, Jews being blamed for it, or not letting her get involved with a Jew?”

  “You know what I mean, wiseass. Not wanting her involved with a Jew.” Bret was struck by the degree of clarity remaining in Jake’s alcohol saturated brain.

  “You’re not shitting. Maybe they think if she gets involved with a Jew, poof, she’ll turn into one.” Becoming animated, “That’s it! They’re afraid she’ll go poof.” Shaking his head and in a somber voice Jake said, “You ever know me to be underhanded, Bret?”

  “Not this week.”

  “I’m serious, man, you ever?”

  “No. Never.”

  “See? If anyone would know, you would. You’re my best friend.”

  Although he didn’t show it, Bret was pleased at being called Jake’s best friend. He was a good friend, sure, but best friend? That was a surprise. Bret always looked up to Jake. It called for a celebratory swallow of beer.

  Jake took a bite of his burger and followed it with a slug of Coke. “Yeah, that’s it. She might go poof and become a Jew,” he burped and rubbed his stomach.

  Looking through narrowed eyes at Bret, he said, “Hey, buddy, I think I’m drunk. I hope nothing complicated comes into the emergency department. Not that I’m on call or anything, but I won’t be able to help. You’re stuck with Tuttle.” He laughed and took another bite of burger, wrinkled his nose, then covered his mouth with his napkin. “Not sitting right with the Scotch.”

  As Bret nursed his beer, Jake continued his story, “Not only her parents. My parents, too. Especially my mother.” Imitating a Jewish accent, “Such grief she would give me if I came home with a shiksa.” Dropping the accent, “She wouldn’t disown me, but if you know Jewish mothers, you know the dozens of ways they can lay a guilt trip on you.” Jake slapped his hand on the table, “Damn, where’s Friar Laurence when you need him?”

  “Friar Laurence? From Romeo and Juliet?”

  “Never mind.”

  Jake pushed his plate aside and got up from the table. “Gotta go. Drank too much and talked too much.”

  Bret stood and put four twenties on the table. It would cover the food with a nice tip for Liz. Maybe she’d remember him.

  “Let’s get you home to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.

  Jake burped before saying, “Too bad I can’t sleep off my troubles.” He swayed a little, faced Bret, and placed both hands on Bret’s shoulders, “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, buddy. The really, really, really, best thing.”

  Bret hoped when the alcohol wore off, his macho friend wouldn’t be embarrassed by his display of emotion. That is, if he remembered, which he doubted.

  As they left, Liz raised an eyebrow. Bret looked at her and said, “Taking us home. Don’t worry, we’re walking. Money’s on the table.”

  She tilted her chin toward Jake, “Okay, as long as he’s not driving.”

  Bret smiled and gave her a two-fingered salute. Another time, Liz.

  “I hear this is a terrific restaurant. Thanks for making time to visit with me,” Bret said as he buttered his third roll. He and Hubie Santos were in Peter’s Off-Broadway considered by many to serve the finest steaks and chops in the city.

  “Don’t mention it. I love to see you and catch up when I can,” said Bret’s uncle who sat across from him, shirt collar open and tie loosened. Hubie pointed to the roll, “Save room for the filet.”

  Stretching the waistband of his jeans with a thumb, Bret said, “Don’t worry. At these prices, no way am I not finishing this meal.”

  “How are things going in the residents’ program? Hard to believe you�
�re just about halfway through. Only two more years left.”

  Bret answered, “Good, I guess, although I’m concerned about Jake Warden.”

  “The fellow ahead of you?”

  “Yeah. He’s got troubles at home and is about to add to them. It may sound selfish, but in our group, what affects one, affects all.”

  “It’s the same as in my world,” Hubie said. “What one lawyer in a firm does impacts all the lawyers in that firm.” He made a circle motion with his index finger.

  “Kind of like a family,” Bret said.

  “Yes, and if someone I worked with had problems similar to your friend, I’d give him or her all the help I could reasonably give. If they asked. Trying to do good when someone doesn’t want you to can cause hard feelings, and, possibly, the loss of a friend.”

  Their food arrived and, not wanting to continue discussing Jake, Bret changed the subject, “I’m going to buy a car.”

  “Oh?” Hubie said not looking up from peppering his food. He placed the shaker on the table and indicated to it with a hand gesture, “Don’t use salt anymore, so I tend to overdo the pepper thing.”

  “You’re a braver man than I am, Gunga Din,” Bret quipped, his smile accentuating his chin dimple.

  “What kind of car.”

  “A Firebird. It’s seven-years-old and in pristine condition. Red with black trim. The owner pampered it.”

  “You’ve always liked muscle cars,” Hubie said, “I remember the Camaro.”

  “She sure was a beauty.” Bret took a bite of his steak, and after swallowing, asked, “So, what’s happening back home in Connecticut?”

  “Quite a lot,” Hubie Santos said. “You won’t believe how many new homes are going up in East Granby, and…”

  And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare...

  Lower Manhattan: Mai Faca’s apartment. Lying nude on the sweat stained bed, Jake and Mai, the woman rescued on the ferry, enjoyed the sexual afterglow.

  The venetian blind was raised to allow city light into the dark third-floor room. Street sounds penetrated the walls, and the rumble of the air conditioner, turned to its highest setting against the warm September evening, rattled the window.

  Jake lifted himself on one elbow and stroked Mai’s shoulder. “I love the feel of your skin. Wish I could be more poetic, but it’s like silk. Smooth and soft.”

  Laughing, Mai said, “That’s poetry. Keep going.”

  He rolled his eyes, “Give a girl a compliment, and she wants more. Well, let’s see,” his hand cupped his chin, “There’s your aroma. It reminds me of gardenias. At first I thought it was perfume, maybe even soap, but it isn’t. The scent is you . . . intoxicating.

  Mai looked up into his eyes, “You’re sweet.”

  “Well, it’s the truth. And, that’s not all.” After giving Mai a gentle kiss on the lips, he said with an impish grin, “It’s unbelievable how you do what you do so well,”

  Unable to keep from smiling, Mai teased, “What are you talking about?”

  “You know . . . sex. I’ve never been with anyone who was anywhere close to being in your league.” A little laugh, “Not to mention being handcuffed to the headboard while someone had her way with me. Where’d you learn that?”

  Propping herself to Jake’s level, Mai blinked her pale blue eyes and shook soft curled brown hair from her face. She giggled, tilted her head, and said, “Well, sugar, I guess it comes, so to speak, naturally. Though any refinements I may have acquired along the way are none of your business.” Tracing her finger along his jaw, she added, “Anyway, I’m glad you like it.”

  Jake smiled. “Well, keep it up, and you’ll keep me up.” He paused before mimicking, “So to speak.”

  Mai placed her head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. After a while, she said, “I suspect my sexuality comes from my duel heritage. Both the Chinese and Portuguese are known for their sexual prowess, you know.”

  “I do now, and there’s no doubt you’re the best of both cultures in every way.” Jake ran his finger down her slim body. “What do you think you inherited from your mother, and what came from your father?” Physically, Jake considered Mai the perfect melding of East and West. A razor-sharp mind and winning personality completed the package. He wasn’t the first man or, in all probability, woman to think Mai was magnificent.

  “I’d say my slender build and smile come from my mom, Jia. I don’t know about my blue eyes, though. My guess is they’re a genetic aberration. For sure, I get my height from my dad. He’s over six feet with lots of muscles. Used to work on the docks before marrying mom and starting the water-taxi business. They’re smart so I credit my intelligence to both.” She qualified her words with, “Please don’t think I’m bragging.”

  “What I think is you’re absolutely unbelievable, and I’m lucky to have found you. You stir up something inside me. My inner animal.” Without warning, he slammed the palm of his hand against the mattress. With steel in his words, he said, “I’ll do anything to keep you.”

  Mai placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Sometimes it’s hard not to think of your old boyfriend.” After a silence, he lightened the mood by saying, “Getting back to what we were talking about, I’m also glad you have Portuguese breasts.”

  Mai feigned disgust, “I should have guessed. You’re a pig like most men.”

  Jake was quick to defend, “No, I mean it. Anyone can tell you have great genes. As my favorite aunt would say, ‘God was having a good day when he made you.’”

  Mai nudged him and teased, “I should tell my parents what you and your aunt said.”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  “No, silly. But I wish I could and have them love you like I do.”

  Jake kissed her neck and shoulders

  Turning serious, Mai said, “Now that your wife has agreed to a divorce, is she going to leave soon?”

  Jake shook his head, “Nah. Says she wants to stick around until May or June when I’m nearing the end of my training. That way she can finish her program at NYU. She’ll tell everyone she left me because she didn’t want to follow me to some hick town with no plum jobs in hotel management. In the meantime, everything has to appear normal.” Shaking his head again, “As if what we have could ever have been called normal. In the meantime you and I have to be careful because if she finds out about us, she’ll make a scene they’ll hear in Nebraska.”

  Understanding the predicament, Mai nodded.

  “Today she thinks I’m at a pathology conference at St. Luke’s.”

  “She won’t find out. If she does, we’ll handle it together.” Mai got off the bed and walked to the bathroom. Jake watched every graceful step of her taut body. Leaving the door open, she sat on the toilet. He heard her peeing and shook his head in mock disbelief.

  Jake was dressing when Mai came out of the bathroom, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. “What did I do to deserve that?”

  She smiled. “Since we were speaking of ancestry, I’m willing to testify that your Jewish heritage makes you a wonderful lover. You know how to create a symphony with that instrument of yours and get my strings vibrating with more intensity than a Jew’s harp.”

  Jake expanded his chest and pounded it gorilla style, “I’m pleased to have pleased you.” He buttoned his shirt. “Speaking of Jews, any chance your parent’s feeling about them could change?”

  “You could train a shark to stand on its tail easier then you could get my parents to change their minds once they’re made up. Especially when it involves hating. They love to hate. I’m hoping we’ll find some way to be together without them finding out and doing something like disowning me. Disowning is very Chinese, you know.”

  “Do you think they would? Would you be devastated?”

  “Yes, and yes, to both questions. My mother would be honor bound to do so. As would my father, although his heart wouldn’t be in it.
I was brought up in the tradition of reverence for the family. Their rejection would tear me apart.” Her eyes glistened, “It’s . . . it’s difficult for outsiders . . . don’t take offense . . . to comprehend, but I could never be happy if they exiled me from the family.”

  Mai went to the bed and sat cross-legged on the edge, her expression solemn. Jake stopped dressing. She began, “I have two uncles who immigrated with us and live in Manhattan. They are members of the Shadow Dragons, a Chinese-American gang with connections to Hong Kong. They are the protectors of our family honor and take that responsibility seriously. If they find out I have dishonored my parents by consorting with a Jew, they would kill you and me for causing shame to fall upon the family.”

  Jake paled.

  Mai warned, “You must believe me when I say they’re dangerous, and so are my parents. I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone. Something I feel you must know.” She stopped to collect herself.

  Jake started toward her. She waved him off and averted her head. “It happened when I was a little girl in Macao. I was four, maybe, five. We lived on our boat. One day Mom told me to go play on the dock. She didn’t know it, but I didn’t go outside and decided to stay in my room on the lower level.”

  Mai hesitated as if unable to go on. Jake waited, not sure what to do. She continued, “There was hollering and fighting on deck. Frightened, I closed my door but peeked through the louvers. After a while my uncles dragged a man down there and hacked him to death with large knives. There was blood. It was awful. When they were through, one of my uncles whistled, and my father came running down. He lifted and carried the body to the deck. I heard the splash as my father threw the man overboard.”

  She looked at Jake with tearful eyes and said, “Floating bodies are not uncommon in Macao.” The water in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks, “My mother cleaned up the mess.”

  Mai shivered and pulled the bedspread around her shoulders. “Throughout the ordeal I was too afraid to move and, later, too afraid to say anything. The memory lives in here,” she held a fist to her heart. “It was the first time I realized members of my family could be monsters.”