Author's Note: Hola all! I'm back. Sorry about the extremely late update but Fall semester was harsh. Plus I'm not very good at getting things done quickly. I tend to procrastinate and develop severe writer's block... But enough with the excuses. Without further ado...
PART XI: The Troggs and Mystery Man
"Okay, so now take your first finger and place it right here at the first fret." Eli was instructing Grace how to play the guitar by way of example on his own – a kind of "monkey-see, monkey-do" approach, which is an apt comparison.
"Like this?" asked Grace the monkey. She clumsily tried to mimic Eli's fingering on her guitar, but unsurprisingly failed.
"Uh…Try not to put your finger directly on the fret…Here." Eli took Grace's hand and corrected her. "There…Perfect." Eli smiled at Grace, and she nervously smiled back. After an awkward pause, Eli weakly threw his hands up in a half-assed celebration. "Now you can play a song," he muttered. Not that he was being sarcastic or derisive. That's just the way he talks – low, indifferent, almost incomprehensible. It's his attempt to appear cool and mysterious, I suppose. But to me, he just looks like a dumb ass who needs to learn how to enunciate.
"But I only know three chords," said Grace meekly.
"And your point is?" Eli smiled then reached into the bag that was by his foot. "Look. Bands have made hundreds of songs with just three chords." He pulled out a sheet of paper. "Try this."
"Okay…" Grace took the paper from Eli's hand and studied it carefully. She then gingerly arranged her fingers into the first designated chord and began to play, or at least tried to. There was a huge pause in between each note because apparently it was extremely difficult for Grace to remember the fingering for each of the THREE chords she had just learned. She looked like a retard with a violent case of Parkinson's in her left hand. Eli noticed this and instructed her to "try not to be so spastic," which is like telling Paris Hilton to "try not to be so whore-y" or Michael Jackson to "try not to be so creepy and child-molester-ish." – it isn't going to happen (no matter what the jury says). Eli asked Grace to start over, but this time "just let it flow." When she did, the notes still sounded muffled and flat, if not worse than before.
"I suck." Grace threw her pick to the ground in frustration. "I suck!"
"Relax. Okay? You don't suck." Eli got up from his seat, which was adjacent to Grace's, and retrieved the discarded pick. "Here…We'll try again. But this time, I'll guide you." Eli positioned himself behind Grace, who was sitting at the end on the shorter edge of a black, rectangular bench. "Okay?"
"O–okay," said Grace, hyper-aware of Eli's increased proximity.
Eli placed his fingers on top of Grace's and together they made the first few chords ring out, and the song finally became comprehensible.
"Wild thing…" Eli sang. "You make my heart sing…"
Grace laughed, hopefully realizing the ridiculousness of it, but then, like a mindless lemming, she joined in. "You make everything…"
"Grooovy," they bellowed in unison.
"Wild thing, I think I love you… But I wanna know for sure… Come on and hold me tight…"
Eli laughed then turned to Grace who coincidentally turned to Eli at that same moment. Suddenly their smiles were gone, and the tone became serious. Eli studied Grace's face. His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips where it lingered for a moment. Then, in a soft whisper, Eli completed the verse, "I love you." Grace nearly dropped the guitar, while Eli's grip on it tightened. He slowly leaned in, finally making some kind of move. I swear the guy works at the speed of a Special Olympics hurdler. Grace then closed her eyes, anticipating Eli's lips…. when her goddamn cell phone rings. Grace reluctantly freed herself from Eli's purely "educational" embrace to retrieve her cell which she left on the table by the entryway.
"Shit… It's my mother," said Grace, after reading the caller ID but not bothering to pick up. "I better go."
"Yeah. Okay," said Eli as he leaned forward to grasp the edge of the bench and hang his head in disappointment.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" said Grace, partly offering reassurance, partly searching for it.
Eli looked up at her and then smiled. "Absolutely."
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"Absolutely," mocked Sarah in a childish-tone. "God, they're so sickeningly sweet, they can make a diabetic go into hyperglycemic shock." With a disgusted sigh, Sarah shut off the television on which she was monitoring the progress between Grace and Sarah's unwitting tool. The feed must have transmitted from a hidden camera in the tool's estate. Sarah threw the remote against the armrest of the couch on which she sat then got up to leave. She must not have heard me come in because her eyes grew wide and she inhaled deeply in surprise when she saw me standing in the doorway.
"Shit, Katie!" shrieked Sarah, placing a hand on her heart as if to keep it from bursting through her chest. She took a deep breath in order to compose herself. "God! I swear you need to wear a fucking bell or something."
"Why? Did I scare you?" I playfully asked as I jumped over the back of the couch into its seat. "What were you watching?" I turned on the TV and flipped through its channels. It seemed there was one for every room of the house. I stopped at a bedroom where a very stoned individual lay enthralled by a shiny object. The tool soon entered and seemed perplexed by the other's presence. "Coop? What the hell are you doing here?" "Dude, check this out," said the stoner, carefully holding up the object. "It's one of those special state quarters. This one is Ar-kansas." The tool took the quarter and inspected it. "You mean Ar-kan-saw." Coop furrowed his brow in confusion. "Isn't that another state?" I quickly shut off the TV before my brain could completely liquefy. "God, aren't there enough reality shows about socialites? They're stupid. I get it."
"Do you like it?" asked Sarah as she sat down beside me with a self-satisfied grin. "I paid off their surveillance guy to install hidden cameras and microphones all around their house."
"How very Big Brother of you."
"I had them installed in Grace's house as well," said Sarah absent-mindedly as she turned on the TV and surfed its channels. "I figure this way we can monitor them and our progress and ultimately have something to forever immortalize our success. You know, something to show the grandkids."
"Or sell on the internet for $29.95 a pop."
"Wouldn't hurt." Sarah shrugged. "We could call it…" Sarah turned to me and reflected for a moment. "One Night in Grace."
"That wasn't remotely original."
Sarah nodded then turned back to the TV. "I'll work on it." Dumb and dumber were now discussing past lives and how dumber believes he used to be Benjamin Franklin who is apparently the inventor of the light bulb – something you will never see flashing atop poor dumber's head.
"So is this what you wanted to show me?" I asked, preparing to leave. "Because I can get the same effect from watching MTV." Before I could stand up completely, Sarah took my hand and gently yet firmly pulled me back into my seat.
"No, silly," Sarah warmly breathed into my ear. "This is what I wanted to show you." She then nestled her head against mine and raised the remote. With a press of a button she revealed a poor man with a whining succubus stuck to his face.
"Oh my god… Is that…?" I feigned shock and Sarah nodded, pleased with herself. It was obvious she wanted me to care about Lily and her new Lothario, so I took great care to do the exact opposite. "Middle-Aged Laguna Beach: The Real Desperate Housewives of the OC." Sarah's smile disappeared into a look of utmost annoyance. It became harder for me not to laugh. "I heard about this show," I managed to say casually. "These network execs just aren't trying anymore."
"Is it possible for you not to be a smart ass for once?"
"You might as well ask me to stop breathing." I reflected for a moment. "Or fucking… But that would be much worse."
"Aren't you at all curious about the identity of Lily's mystery man?"
"Not as much as I am amused by your use of the words 'mystery man.'" In truth, I was more curious about why Lily hadn't already swallowed the poor bastard whole. It looked like she was struggling to accomplish this feat for a while, and with that big mouth of hers I'm sure she could have done it.
"I swear you live to torture me," Sarah lamented as she flirtatiously pushed me away and sulked against the back of the couch.
I sat back next to her, lying on my side. "Among other things," I suggestively replied. My fingertips slowly felt their way along Sarah's arm, invisibly connecting her light brown birthmarks. But Sarah still kept her sullen disposition, painfully trying to seem unaffected by my charms just to spite me. "Okay. I'll bite." I sat up again and made my eyes abnormally wide in a semblance of exaggerated interest. "Tell me, Sarah," I said in a patronizing tone, "who is Lily's mystery man?"
A huge grin cut across Sarah's face as she turned to me excitedly and said, "Eli's father!" It seemed she had expected this revelation to incite a mutual excitement in me or shock or any kind of reaction at all, but I was indifferent.
"And Eli is…?"
"The name of the guy I set up with Grace," she said as if I should have already known and it was a pain to repeat. "Did I not tell you that?"
I shook my head. "It must have slipped your mind…" I got up to retrieve the bowl of maraschino cherries from Sarah's bedside table. "You were probably too busy trying to work 'mystery man' into your vocabulary."
"Would you just drop it already?"
"But it gives me such great pleasure not to." I took a cherry and popped it into my mouth. It was sweet and delicately soft. When I pressed upon it with my tongue its bright red skin easily tore open and its juices came through. It was sweeter on the inside.
"Well, keep it up and it will be the only pleasure you'll be able to have," said Sarah as she reached into the bowl. "I'll make sure of it." She delicately placed a cherry into her mouth then bit down hard and ripped off its stem. She grinned maliciously.
"Sorry," I said with a charming smile. "I'll be good." I turned my attention back to the TV. They were still going at it. "Grace's mother and Eli's dad…" I thought aloud. "How incestuous this class is."
"More than you think," said Sarah cryptically.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll soon find out." Sarah then took the bowl from my hands and placed it on the coffee table in front of us.
"Hey! Cherries…" I whined, like a child. I reached out for the bowl but Sarah excitedly grabbed my hand.
"This is perfect, do you realize?" I tried to reach the bowl with my other hand, but she took hold of that one too. I commenced pouting. "With their parents dating, the thought of being together becomes taboo therefore more enticing. Eli will have Grace on her back before his dad can pick up the check."
"Because Grace is a hooker?"
Sarah rolled her eyes then continued, disregarding my remark. "I didn't even plan for this to happen…" She stood up, leaving my hands free, and I eagerly reached for the bowl once more. But when it became just within reach, Sarah took it up again. "Everything just sort of fell into place," she said, taking a cherry to her mouth, "like I was destined to attain my revenge."
"Does that include being a rude, cherry-stealing bitch?"
Again she ignored me. "All I need now is to devise a way for Grace to find out."
At that moment, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another figure enter the frame. "It seems like you won't have to," I said, recognizing the person on-screen.
"Mom?" Grace stood stark still in the doorway, her voice trembling.
Lily managed to pull her suckers off of mystery man's face and whirled around in surprise. "Grace! Honey…" she began, with that artificial smile you picture attendants use at mental institutions. "Boy, you got here fast." She let out a nervous laugh, which seemed to echo off the walls closing in on her. Grace remained deathly silent. "Look at who I invited for dinner." Lily signaled to Eli's father. "You know–"
"I can't believe you," whined Grace with tears welling in her eyes.
"Gracie, wait!" Lily pleaded, reaching out for her daughter. "Come back, sweetheart!"
"This is perfect!" Sarah began to cackle, reveling in her self-proclaimed destiny also known as blind luck. "This is perfect!" A few moments later, her cell phone rang, and by her haughty "Ha!" I knew it was Grace. Sarah cleared the arrogance and sadism from her throat. "Hello?" Even though I was five feet away, I could still hear Grace's sobs on the other line. "What?" said Sarah with affected horror. "I can't believe it!" She then moved on to the next stratagem of sympathy. "Aw, honey, I know…." To the patronizing costume of friendship. "Why don't you come here and we can talk about it over a nice cup of hot cocoa. How does that sound?" I smiled reflectively, amused by how everything became so formulaic to us. Did we really become that jaded with life, or were we never capable of sincere human relations as if we were never born with a soul – that which enables mortal beings to form immortal connections; to have soul mates. Was I never to have a soul mate? Was that a bad thing? The thought of forever being with one person made me queasy. But I thought of Jessie and her soul and of me having none, and for some reason I became saddened. "Great!" exclaimed Sarah with her perfunctory smile. "À bientôt!" She then snapped her cell shut and looked at me smugly. "Destiny."
