Killing Kate (2 page)
Authors: Lila Veen
“You’re here,” I practically
whisper.
“Yeah, I’m here. Joy of joys.
Give me one of those,” she says, indicating my cigarette. “You have booze?” I
nod and walk to my bedroom and present her with the mostly finished bottle and
my pack. “We’ll need more booze,” she declares, throwing herself down on my
sofa. “I swear you bring out the worst in me.”
“I have more,” I tell her. “How
long will you stay this time?”
“As long as I can,” she says. “Maybe
this time you won’t kick me out with the help of Dr. Collins and Devin?” I
nod. It’s such a relief to see her here that I can’t imagine wanting her to
leave or letting anyone make her go.
“I won’t let them chase you away, I
need you.” I tell her. “It’s been hell.”
“I know.” I wonder if it’s as hard
for her to not be with me as it is for me not to see her. I don’t want to
know, in case the answer isn’t what I want to hear. We sit and drink and smoke
and I take her in. Kate is beautiful where I am ugly. She is proud where I am
ashamed. She speaks for me when I don’t have words. Her hair got long like
mine, I think, and she’s got freckles across her nose. I want to reach out and
touch her, but I wait and don’t want to seem too eager. “We’re going to Jack’s
funeral,” she tells me.
“I don’t want to,” I say, eyes
widening and shaking my head. I feel myself shrinking back into the sofa where
I am sitting next to her, attempting to be absorbed by sticky pleather. It
hits me and I realize how exhausted I am. Yet I stay awake because I can’t
believe she is here with me and I am afraid that if I close my eyes, she’ll be
gone.
“You have to,” she says. “Closure
and shit. Dr. Collins would say something stupid like that. Have you seen her
lately?”
“No,” I tell her. “Not for a
while.” Not since you left, I think.
Kate nods. “You’re better off.
You’re an adult - you get to decide your own fate.” She looks over at me. “Go
back to bed. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.” She knows exactly how
I feel, I think. “Then let’s get some food. I’m fucking starving.”
Like a zombie I shuffle off to my
bedroom, trusting and praying she will be here when I wake up. I look back at
her sitting on my couch, in disbelief that she is actually here. She beams me
a smile that is uncharacteristically Kate in every way and I wonder if she’s
changed. “Go,” she says. “I promise I’ll be here.”
It’s my day off, and so I sleep for
a long time. When I wake up its dark outside and I don’t know what time it
is. I can’t remember where I put my phone after I hung up with Devin. Likely
in a pile of clothes that surround me. I get up and see Kate is still here
with me, and I feel safe. She is resting on the couch but her eyes are open.
“Do you ever sleep?” I ask. She
sits up and rolls her eyes. My phone is sitting next to her on the sofa and I
pick it up and see that it’s already 7:09 pm. I contemplate eating but I’m not
hungry. Instead, I sit down next to Kate. I look to the wall where the mirror
in my front room is and note that I look terrible. I slept in my makeup and it
has smeared around my eyes making me appear as though I fought with someone who
clearly won. My hair is dirty and uncombed and tousled around my shoulders.
Next to me, Kate is perfection, with her auburn hair combed and braided and
pulled to one side, which is different from how she showed up at my door.
She’s also wearing jeans and a red halter top, and her lips are a dark blood
red and look wet. Her large brown eyes are perfectly made up, and she appears
to be ready to go someplace.
“Get dressed,” she says, reading my
mind. “Tonight we are going to go out and eat and get drunk, and then tomorrow
we will go to Jake’s funeral and see Devin.”
“I have to work tomorrow night,” I
tell her. She shrugs.
“You can do both.”
“Getting drunk outside of my apartment
costs money,” I point out.
She scowls. “You have no air
conditioning.” I doubt that actually bothers her.
“Suffer,” I tell her.
“You need to mentally prepare
yourself for Jack’s funeral with alcohol and some potential casual sex,” she
says. “Devin needs you there.” I nod. I didn’t feel bad when I hung up the
phone but I suddenly feel horrible now. I accept that I am a bad daughter and
have no tears for a man who didn’t deserve to be a part of my life but Devin
has never hurt me.
Kate found her way into my world
when I was a kid living with Devin in Jack’s house. She would hold me at night
while I cried myself to sleep. She would continue to come to my rescue all the
way up until Jack went to jail for possession of narcotics and I had to go live
with my mother and my stepfather, Frank. As far as stepfathers went, Frank was
actually okay, despite the shit show he married into. When he met my mom, she
was “unattached”, so to speak, which is a nice way of saying that she walked
out on her husband and two young kids that she didn’t want in the first place.
Kate was gone for a few years while things were good and Frank was alive, but
when Frank died from a heart attack and it was just my mom, Kate eventually
came back to me. Jack was a shitty dad, but our mom wasn’t much better. She
would pretend to care but checked out after Frank died. He really was the love
of her life and held her together. Some people can’t survive without another
person in this world and Frank was that person to my mom, just as Kate seems to
be with me. Like everyone else in our family, my mom took to drinking away her
life while collecting her welfare check from the state. Devin checked out at
that point too, shooting up heroin and not spending much time helping me get through
school. He found a girlfriend and spent most of his time between her, his
junkie friends and his artwork. Instead of being alone, I had Kate to keep me
company. Devin and I are close now. We weren’t always. As kids we were
forced to be close, mostly for survival. Devin hit a point where he couldn’t
spend all of his time devoted to taking care of me, and as much as that hurt
me, I think it hurt him more. Along came Kate to the rescue. Kate and I
shared everything, from a room to our clothes to friends and even a boy or
two. She took my tests for me in the subjects I didn’t like and she went on
dates for me with boys that I wasn’t interested in. Where I was shy and would
rather be someplace else, Kate was in the backseat of a car in the mall parking
lot at three am, letting some horny kid put their fingers in her panties. She
tended to take the douchebags and assholes and I saved one or two nice boys for
myself. Every now and then we’d share, though never at the same time. When I
moved out of my mom’s house, she came with for a while, and then after I got my
act together and got a job, an apartment, some clothes, some furniture, and
started getting groceries somewhat regularly for me, she eventually left. I
never ask where she’s been. I don’t want to know.
“Call Devin,” she tells me,
breaking my trance. “Ask him to meet us. Then we’ll get you showered and
dressed.” Before I can object, she shoots me a look. “He does need you, you
know.” I do know, but I’m afraid to see how Devin is right now, particularly
with the news.
My hands are shaking a little, and
the pit of my stomach feels empty and fluttery, but I call. “Hey,” he answers.
“Meet us for dinner?” I ask him.
“Us?”
“Me and Kate,” I say. He is
silent.
He sighs. “I should have guessed
she’d be back,” he replies. “Where?”
“How about some Pho?” I ask him.
I indicate the station closest to where I can get a bowl of Vietnamese hot beef
noodle soup.
“Okay, in an hour?” I tell him
I’ll leave after I shower and hang up. I spend about ten minutes in the shower
washing my hair and body because I smell like sweaty cage dancer and I’m still
grimy from last night’s run at the beach. After I step out I wrap a towel
around me and wrestle with a comb to get the snarls out of my hair. It never
does what I want it to do, but it acts like a curtain and falls midway down my
back in a shiny brown sheet. As long as I can detangle it sufficiently, I
don’t need to really do anything else besides let it air dry. In the winter,
that would be insane, since it freezes in stiff strips but it’s a warm night.
I should buy an air conditioner soon, I have a feeling it’s going to be a hot
summer. For now I let the open windows air out the staleness that’s pervaded
my environment all winter long. I look around at the clutter of shampoo and
lotions and makeup products in my bathroom and realize it extends throughout
the entire place and mentally note to spring clean as soon as I’m up for it.
But tonight I’m going to see Devin and tomorrow I will be at my father’s
funeral. At least it will be the last time I have to see Jack.
*
I’m dressed in faded skinny jeans
and a cap sleeved sheer white top with some light blue embroidery that I’d deem
a “hippie top”. I got it from a little shop that sells dashikis, incense and nitrous
oxide if you know how to ask nicely. I slip on some white flip flops and grab
my purse and phone and a fresh pack of smokes before I lock up and head over to
the El. Kate follows me. I smoke on the way to the Morris station, walking
past college kids who are out drinking too late on a Sunday evening, young
couples who haven’t yet figured out that they should really leave East Riverview
and move to the suburbs before they begin to breed, and the occasional drunk
and/or crack head. I got mugged once walking down Morris and was out a cell
phone, so I’m glad it’s early, still somewhat light out and a short walk from
my apartment. The station is empty and I ascend to the platform and light up
again. As a general rule, the train comes faster if I am just starting a
cigarette, and lo and behold, it’s crawling up from the previous stop just as I
do. I pitch the half smoked cigarette off the platform onto the street and
Kate and I get on the train.
Devin is parked by the El and
leaning against his motorcycle. I wave, walk over and give him a tentative
hug. Kate hangs back. “I wish you’d wear a helmet,” I say to him.
“I wish you’d quit smoking,” is his
retort as I pull out my pack and begin to light another one. He takes one for
himself. Devin never buys cigarettes, but he’ll smoke them if they’re
available to him. We walk together to Saigon Noodle, which is this weird
Vietnamese place that appears to simultaneously embrace and ignore the Vietnam
War by having their wait staff wear camouflage shirts and serving large bowls
of Pho from menus decorated with tanks and machine guns to white people and
Vietnamese people alike. We sit and Devin and I order food. Kate disappears
to give Devin and me some time alone. “Jenna, I thought you had ended things
with Kate.”
“She comes when I need her,” I tell
him, unable to meet his eyes.
“You should get back on meds,” he
replies.
“Devin,” I plead. “I don’t want to
fight tonight.”
He leans back in his chair and scrunches
up his face in the weird way he does when he disagrees with me. Devin isn’t
what most people would call handsome or good looking. He’s got a face that’s
almost feminine and looks a lot like me in some ways, but it doesn’t
necessarily work on a boy…or man, I guess I can call him nowadays. He’s older
than I am by fourteen months. His hair right now is short in back and long in
the front, which I kind of like on him, but he resembles a skinny punk rock
lesbian. It’s the same color as mine naturally, though he has it dyed black
right now. The last time I saw him it was blue. People always thought we were
twins because we were so close in age. “Irish twins!” was something we heard a
lot growing up in a south side Irish neighborhood.
“Kate will be there to help you
through whenever things get tough,” he says. “Jenna, you need to be on meds.
I don’t like this.”
“Devin, let me handle it.”
He shakes his head. He looks like
he might cry, which will make me leave and he knows it. “Devin,” I say again.
“I don’t even have a health insurance policy that will cover them. I get bare
minimum coverage through Appleseed. Those pills aren’t covered. I can barely
make rent. Just let me get through tomorrow and we can talk.”
“She’s not real, Jenna,” he says.
“Kate is not a real fucking person. She’s just you, Jenna.”
I am reeling from this conversation
with Devin. Everything he says I know, but I don’t appreciate hearing about it
right now. Yes, I’m bat shit insane. Yes, Kate comes into my life when I need
her. I need her now. Devin is making me feel pain, and he isn’t letting me
see Kate right now. I am about to cry but am interrupted by a camouflaged man
putting a bowl of steaming hot noodly soup in front of me and Devin. “You
enjoy now,” he barks with a thick Vietnamese accent and walks away.
Instead
of crying, I eat. I realize it’s been over two days since I’d had any food and
I down the entire bowl ferociously while Devin just stares at me and sips.
“Jesus, Jenna,” he says. “You’re not taking care of yourself.”
“Don’t
lecture me, Devin,” I say. “Besides, do you want me to go back on my meds or
do you want me to eat? Because we both know I can’t do both.” There’s
actually a longer list of things I can’t do while medicated other than eating.
Pooping, having sex, leaving the apartment, opening my mouth without looking
like a St Bernard and waking up are just a few of the gems I can name off the
top of my head. Either way, medicated or crazy, I’m a hot mess.
Devin
scrunches up his face which is his ridiculous way of indicating that he’s in
deep thought. It really looks more like he’s constipated. “You’re moving in
with me,” he finally says.
I
shake my head furiously. “No, not that. I need my space.” It sounds lame, I
know. Devin sees right through it. “I’m just…it makes me think about…”
He
nods and gives me a look that cuts me off, knowing what I can’t say to him.
Living with Devin would remind me of darker days, when we lived with our dad,
and then with our mom and Frank. The second part was fine, but the beginning
of the story wasn’t a time I have ever decided to remember fondly. When I do,
Kate comes around. She is the block between what happened in my past and me
remembering. She prevents all of it from coming to the surface and drowns my
past inside of the deep well I’ve managed to stuff it inside. I like it there,
because I have a feeling I’d be even more screwed up if I ever brought it up to
surface.
“Hey,”
Devin says reaching for my hand, interrupting my broodings. “It’ll be okay.
We’ll get through the funeral together. Then we’ll find you a new doctor and
some medication that won’t make it impossible for you to function. Okay?” I
shrug, feeling numb and just wanting to placate him for now. I know I should
be touched by Devin’s devotion to me, but the reality is that I’m so fucked up
that I shouldn’t even be in public. The truth is I’d have killed myself years
ago if it wouldn’t ruin Devin’s life. And Devin has something to offer the
world while I only dance in a cage and make rich people complain about paying
for my healthcare.
When
we were kids living with our mother and Frank, Devin got arrested a lot for
tagging. I remember one time Frank drove Devin over to a wall under a bridge
that he had gotten caught tagging one night by the cops. I was in the car,
because our mom was probably home in bed after a long night of falling asleep
at the bar she worked at where she spent more money than she made. Devin was
there for community service, and when Frank pulled the car up to the wall, he
was in shock.
“You
did that, Devin?” Frank asked. Devin looked down at his hands and nodded.
Frank had pretty much chewed him out to the point where Devin almost cried.
And Devin never cried. Frank stared at the wall and then at Devin for a long
time. Finally, Devin got out of the car and went to go paint over the wall in
an orange vest so that the world would know he had done something to piss off
the law.
I
remember it vividly. It was a huge green and black dragon, wings spread, fire
bursting all around, that made me ache, and I don’t know why it made me feel
that way. He used orange, red, purple and blue and the dragon looked as though
it were bursting through the wall, breaking free. It was beautiful and
amazing, just like everything Devin has ever created with a brush and a surface.
Frank
and I didn’t go home after we dropped Devin off. Instead, we went to an art
supply store and Frank asked one of the employees there to help us find paints,
brushes and canvas. When Devin came home that night, he found his new art
materials waiting for him and could hardly believe it.
“I
figured if we bought you art supplies you wouldn’t have to go around stealing
spray paint and defacing public property,” Frank said to Devin. Devin looked
grateful, and though we aren’t outwardly affectionate very often in our family,
Devin looked like he could have hugged Frank, but Frank made sure to walk out
of the room before that could happen. He was a stoic ex-Marine who didn’t
really enjoy things like smiling, hugging or talking about feelings. My mother
once told me when I was fourteen and probably not at an appropriate age to hear
it that Frank pretty much just liked to “fuck and fish, and ain’t no water bed
so I guess all he can do is fuck with me”. She was charming. The most
affection we ever got out of Frank was a pat on the head or a display of
understanding and respect like the one he gave Devin that day. Ironically,
years of spray painting at night left Devin with an inability to paint or draw
in full light, so he either worked outside on our back porch at night, often
not sleeping before school the next day, or in the cold winter months he worked
by candlelight inside. Electric light indoors, Devin said, didn’t supply the
right type of ambiance. I am interrupted in my memories and I see Kate
standing at the window, watching Devin and I finish our meal. She looks
annoyed, as though I’ve made her wait all this time. I don’t really know how
she feels about Devin because she doesn’t interact with him very much, or hasn’t
in a long time.
“Devin,”
I say, ignoring Kate for a little bit longer. “I can’t move in with you.
First of all, you have a life, and what the hell is some girl going to say when
you bring her home to your little one bedroom apartment and your psychotic
sister is sitting on your couch?”
Devin
smiles. “I never bring girls home. With my job I don’t really have time for
socializing.” Devin works on the railroad as a conductor and is on call
constantly.
“You’re
socializing with me now,” I point out.
“I’m
on bereavement,” he explains. “I get three days off.”
“Are
you gay?” I ask. I’m slightly sincere as he’s hit on a major point. Devin
never brings girls home. He had a girlfriend in high school that he was pretty
crazy about, and I mean nuts. Like they used to shoot up and cut each other
and drink their blood or something far out like that. He gives me a LOOK.
“It’s a valid question, Devin.”
“No,
I’m not gay, Jenna,” he tells me. “I do meet women, but I’m more concerned
about your well-being right now than I am about getting laid. Living with you
wouldn’t really cramp my love life since I don’t have time for one anyway.”
“Oh,”
is all I can come up with. “Devin, I’m fine. It’s just…Jack.”
Devin
nods. We sit silently for a bit until the waiter comes back with the check.
Devin pays the bill and we walk outside. Kate is standing against the building
with her arms crossed, looking coolly at Devin and me. I light a cigarette and
give it to Devin and light one for myself. It’s still warm and muggy out, but
it was beginning to feel stuffy inside the restaurant. We walk slowly to where
Devin’s bike is parked. “Want a ride?” he asks me. I’m about to say no
because of Kate, but the way Devin is looking at me - he can tell I’m
struggling with Kate. He knows she’s here, and he’s testing me. I need to let
him know I’m okay.
“Sure,”
I say. He gives me his helmet and gets on first. I adjust the helmet and I am
glad I wore jeans to sit on the bike with. He turns on the engine and I feel
the vibration of the Harley reverberate all through my body, and the leather
seat has soaked up the warmth of the outside. Devin gets on and I shift closer
to him and put my arms around his waist. He walks the bike out of the space
and takes off. In his side mirror I see Kate standing behind us, glaring with
a look that makes me realize that I am going to feel her wrath. Later.
For
now, I just want to ride.
*
“How
the fuck could you just leave me there to fend for myself?”
“Go
away, Kate,” I say, closing my eyes. I want to win this, I really do. Being
with Devin makes me want to be better, just to make him happy with me. I don’t
want him to worry. I don’t want to go back to the hospital. I just want to be
free.
“Fuck
you,” she says, getting in my face. We are sitting face to face on my
mattress. I know she will hurt me tonight. Let her hurt me, I think. Feeling
pain is at least feeling something. “I’m always here when you need me, Jenna.
You need me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even exist. So how can you fucking leave
me? You love Devin more than me? Where was he when everything happened? Did
he step in when things were bad?”
“I…can’t
think,” I say. “I want to leave you, but you always find me.”
“And
why do you suppose that is?” she asks me. “Why do you think you can’t get rid
of me, even though you seem to want to so fucking badly?”
“I
don’t know!” I say. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”
“Do
you even love me?” she asks me.
“Yes,
Kate, I love you,” I sigh.
“Show
me,” she demands. She is wild and beautiful right now, her hair a rage of
strands in her lovely flushed face and her eyes glowing like hot coals with
hatred toward me. I feel her pain now, and I know how much she loves me and
wants to be in my life. I take her hand and press her fingers in between my
legs and I hear my own lips make a moaning sound. “We haven’t done this in a
long time,” she whispers.
