In the Shadow of Shakespeare (11 page)

 “But
you
wanted to move here after the baby.”

 “That
was then…I couldn’t stand to be there with her gone.  It was frightening. 
The house seemed haunted with her ghost.”

Albert
nodded.  “Our lease is up in the summer.  Maybe we could start
looking for houses.”

Alice
ran her hand through her hair.  “I don’t know.  I was thinking…”

“We
could even start today if you want.”  He smiled at her, and for a second
she saw the old Albert.  The old Albert she had fallen in love with. 
Was it so long ago?

What
had happened?

 “I
was thinking…that maybe we should try again.  For a baby.”  She
watched his face, and felt the tears well in her eyes as he blanched.

 “Alice,
I can’t just yet…I need more time.”

 “How
much more time Albert?”  She thought she sounded level enough, but he
looked at her like she had pained him.

He
placed the plates before them and sat in a chair opposite her.  The light
from the window over the sink shone on the table.  It reflected in
Albert’s glass as he picked it up and drank.

 “I
don’t know.  I want to heal…not start all over again.”

 “We
can’t heal Albert if we don’t start living.”  She took a mouthful of egg.

 “Healing
is living.  I need time.  Please don’t pressure me.”

 “But
it’s my life too.  I think we need this to get on with things.”

“Maybe
you need this…pregnancy to get on with things.  I don’t.”

Alice
looked at the wall in front of her.  She felt trapped.  She thought
of how big and bland the expanse of wall looked.  It needed a painting on
it.  “This argument, if I can be so bold to call it that, is sounding very
circular.”

Albert
shrugged.  “There’s nothing to say.”

 “I
think there is and you’re just trying to avoid it.”

 “What
am I trying to avoid, Alice?  I told you how I felt.  What more is
there?”

 “There’s
the fact that we are living in limbo here.  It’s like we regressed by
moving into this apartment.  We have no roots, no connections…”

 “Your
family is here.”

 “My
family.”  Alice snorted. 
I will not think about them now. 
But
her Russian grandmother popped in her head regardless.  Alice had only
seen pictures.  She was a very pretty woman: high cheek bones, long dark
hair, dark eyes.  She resembled Alice.  That’s what her father had
always told her.  Maybe that’s why he is an asshole, she thought. 

“Anyway,”
she drank the last of her juice, “It’s better to do something than nothing at
all.”

 “Sometimes
nothing at all can be something.”  Albert took a sip of coffee, put the
cup down and placed his hand over hers.  “I promise.  Just not now.”

 ***

Later
that afternoon Alice drove down the side street that sat above the park. 
She parked the car and got out, walking down the hill.  A fountain sat in
the middle of the park, cascading water into a shallow stone enclosure. 
Alice peered into the water, saw her reflection.  She smiled at the
reflection as the water undulated around it, breaking it up into a wavy
pattern.  She wondered if all things were like this wavy pattern and
people just couldn’t discern it.  Pennies lined the bottom of the
fountain.  Among the pennies were a few sparkles of silver.  People
who needed the extra assurance of a wish coming true, she thought.  She
put her hand in her pocket, groping for change.  All she brought up was a
quarter.   She fingered the small piece of silver, as if seeing it
for the first time.

What
do I want?  She looked up to the sky.  The trees were filled with
leaves which alternated in light and shadow.  The green against the blue
sky reminded her of an earlier time.  She saw Marie in her stroller,
looking up at her.  Her babies view, which was whole and complete
trust.  Marie looked at her and then past her, towards the sky.

 “What
are you looking at little munchkin?”  Alice smiled at her, then looked
towards the sky. 

The
doctors told her it had been a heart condition that had suddenly gotten
worse. 

A
heart condition?  What did they know.  What she wanted to know was
why her tiny baby’s heart had broken. She blinked back the tears. A crow flew
over head.

She
took the coin and flipped it into the water, creating a pattern of circles. The
circles continued from their entrance point, slowly becoming weaker until they
dissolved into the whole of the water. 

Alice
watched as the watery circles subsided into a glassy surface and he became
visible.  He stood behind her.  Her heart began to pound and her eyes
grew large.  He placed his hand on her shoulder.  She felt the
warmth, the pressure from his hand.  She placed her hand over his. 
It didn’t disappear, but stayed warm and solid as a hand should.

 “Don’t
leave me Kit.”

He
smiled.  She closed her eyes and savored the warmth, the closeness of him.
There was a tug on her arm and she turned. 

 “Will
you push me on the swing?”  A little girl stared up at her. 

Alice
blinked, trying to focus.  “Of course I will.”

The
girl grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the swings.

 ***

Alice
sat on Jeannie’s porch with her fingers linked behind her head.  Jeannie
emerged from the house with two glasses of lemonade.  She handed one to
Alice.

 “What’s
wrong?  You’re as white as a ghost.”

 “Oh,
I’m okay.  I suppose I’m just tired.”  She tried to smile, it felt
cheap, so she quit.

 “Cut
it out Petrovka.  You know I’m perceptive.  For a math-mind that
is.”  Jeannie winked at her.

 “Just
give me a minute,” She tasted the lemonade. “So what’s up with George?”

“Well…,” 
Jeannie stretched luxuriously,  indicating she was pleased.  “She
spent the night last night.” 

 “Is
that good?” 

 “What
do you think?  I haven’t been laid now for what…two months.  Yes, of
course it’s good.” 

 “What
about the blond muscle man?

“She
decided that she liked it one way.  My way.”  Jeannie split a grin.

 “You
look like a goddamn pumpkin with that grin on your face Bryant.” 

 “You
mean a jack o’ lantern.  Yes, well, I do feel a bit hallowed out after
last night.  If you know what I mean.”

Alice
rolled her eyes.

 “Hey,
maybe you wouldn’t be so depressed like if you got a little more sex in your
life Petrovka.  What’s with your man?”

 “Everything
is fine in that department.”  She glanced over at Jeannie.  Her
eyebrows were raised, questioning.  “Sort of.”  Alice sighed, took a
sip of lemonade and launched into the mystical man thing with Jeannie. 
She watched her face for signs of disbelief.  When she got to the part
about the rose Jeannie’s eyes grew big.  She stopped the porch swing and
stood up.

 “You
think I’m crazy.” 

 “No,
no.  Just a minute.  I’ll be right back.”  Jeannie went into the
house.

Alice
sat against the wall, then stood up and sat on the porch swing.  The taste
of the story in her mouth felt strange.  Did it make sense?  Did
Jeannie believe her? 

The
screen door slammed behind Jeannie.  She had a bottle of
vodka in
her hand, and promptly poured some in Alice’s glass of lemonade. 

 “What
are you doing?  It’s the middle of the day?”  Alice stared into her
glass. 

 “Sometimes
a tonic is called for.  Time of day doesn’t matter.  So go on.” 
Jeannie nodded at her.

Alice
continued her story, ending with the park incident a few minutes before.

 “So
after that I came right over.  I didn’t know what to do.”  She shook
her head.

 “Wow.” 
Jeannie took a gulp of lemonade.  “So Albert thinks your crazy?”

Alice
nodded.  “It’s so bizarre, of course he thinks I’m crazy.  My mother
says it runs in the family.  Not being crazy, but psychic ability.
 My Russian grandmother had some gift…”  Trailing off, she
wondered. 
Would her father tell her anything?

“Didn’t
they burn people at the stake for that sort of thing?  Seeing into the
future and all of that?”

 “I’m
not really worried about being burned at the stake Bryant.  Just crucified
at home.”

 “So
what does it feel like?”  Jeannie said.

 “What
do you mean?”

 “Seeing
this…guy.  What’s his name?”

 “Marlowe. 
Christopher or Kit Marlowe.  Kit is his nickname.”  She took a sip of
lemonade, thinking.  “You put
way
to much vodka in this.”

 “Yeah,
I know.”

 “It’s
like time is split, and I can see into the past.  Like I’m living on two
levels at once: back in the sixteenth century and here.”  She couldn’t
think of any other way to explain it. She had heard that the Zen masters said
if you could explain Nirvana then you had missed it.  Maybe that was how
it was with this.

 “Hmm.” 
Jeannie watched the tree tops rustle in the breeze.  They sat silent in
the swing together, a gentle rocking motion on the porch.  Alice felt
transported back to her childhood home.  Things were simpler then. 
She thought of the night and shadows.  Of playing hide and seek with the
neighborhood kids.

 “It’s
like hide and seek.”  Alice said.

 “What?” 

 “He
wants me to find him for some reason.”

 “For
some reason?”

 “Yes. 
And I don’t know what it is.  But I get the feeling he has something to
tell me.”

 “You
need to see someone.”

 “Thanks
Jeannie.  You sound like Albert now.”  She stood up, ready to leave.

 “No,
no.  Don’t get all huffy on me now Petrovka.  I mean someone who
knows about these things.  Like a psychic.”

Alice
hesitated at the door, felt the lightness of the vodka in her head, and sat
back down.  “What are you talking about?”

 “I
know of a woman.  Reputable.  I have seen her several times as a
matter of fact…”

Alice
started to laugh, “Math mind sees a psychic?  Does not compute.”

 “What
you see here before you is just the tip of the iceberg Petrovka.  I am a
woman with depth and substance.  Did I ever tell you I used to paint?

 “No.”

 “Well
I did.  For a long time, too.  Anyway –”

 “What
a minute.  Why didn’t you tell me you painted?”

 “It
just never came up.”

 “Why
did you stop?”

Jeannie
snorted.  “Numbers are safer than naked models, that’s why.  But
really, I asked this psychic about it and she said I wasn’t ready.”

 “Oh
that’s profound.”

 “But
she said something else…”

 “And?”

 “She
said that there was a problem with my femaleness.  Of course at first I
thought she was alluding to my being gay, but she said there was a dark energy
centered around my uterus.  She said I should get it checked out.”

 “The
ovarian tumor.”

 “Yeah. 
I would have died Alice.  Imagine if I didn’t see her when I did.” 

They
sat rocking together, lost in thought. 

 “I
don’t know Jeannie, it sounds so strange…all of it.”

 “Just
do it.  What do you have to lose?”

 “Maybe
that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Chapter 15

Sonia
and Derrin sat in the audience.  Sonia appeared disinterested – she read
the paper, but Derrin leaned forward.  He put his arms around the chair in
front of him.

 “This
place smells great.”

Alice
looked to where they sat, shielding her face with her hand, warding off the
harsh glare of the spotlight.  “Yeah, it does.  Could you dim those
lights, Derrin.  We’re being blinded down here.”

She
had had the carpet shampooed yesterday, much to the disapproval of the
board.  It was filthy dirty, hadn’t been cleaned since the theatre
opened.  The place  pulled in more money every year.  She didn’t
know what they were concerned about. 

Dion,
Roberto, and Renita stood on stage.  They quietly read their lines for Act
IV, Scene III.   Dion would glance up from time to time, taking in
the lights, the stage, the audience – in awe of it all.  Alice was
pleased.  She thought this would be a good experience for all of
them.  The whole class had proved so enthusiastic about performing
Othello
that Alice had decided to finish up the year with the play.  It was a rare
thing to have the entire class interested in a subject so she knew she had to
go with it. 

Roberto
positively relished the role of Iago.  And Dion was noble and tragic as
Othello.  But Renita had a problem with Desdemona.  She made
Desdemona out to be too cocky, too headstrong.  Alice tried to explain
that while Desdemona was a strong female figure for the time period, she
wouldn’t sound, or act, like she was from the West side of Lansing.  Renita
said that’s who she was, and she couldn’t change.