The Wake

Marnie took her time walking through the campus, being careful of where the sun hit the pavement, doing her best to keep close to the trees. She couldn’t help the humidity, but she could stay underneath the canopy provided by rows and rows of green. It was the one thing she appreciated, among other things, during the languid summer months. Shade, air-conditioning. If she had those two things, then she was that much closer to being content.

A biker in a hurry zipped past her. She felt the wind he created, along with a fine shower of sweat that splashed against her face. Thank god her mouth was closed.

She stumbled as he flew by, and smacked herself in a hurry to wipe the sweat from her face. Damn bikers never looked where they were going, he almost took her fucking arm off. If they weren’t weaving in and out of pedestrians on sidewalks, they were blocking the traffic on busy local roads. No place for them on the sidewalks, no place for them in the street. Just another thing to add to her list today.

It had been fifteen minutes since Susie called her, and she was already slipping into a funk. Susie would be checking her watch now, for the tenth time. The bitch didn’t like to wait. But Marnie would make her wait, because right now she had to wipe and curse for some sort of release. The biker was long gone, but Marnie envisioned him being mowed down by a busy car, a driver not looking where he was going. No place on the road for those crazies either.

The rest of the walk was all right, but without sunglasses she couldn’t help but frown and squint her eyes to block out the sun, putting a nasty scowl on her face. People stared as they passed and moved out of her way like Moses parting the effing red sea.

She turned her shoulders, this way and that, avoiding the shoulders of others as she crossed the street. Restaurants had their windows wide open. People were lounging and eating about on the “patio seating”, or a clever word for the sidewalk. For some reason the food always tasted better with a breeze in your hair, and possibly a fly in your soup. Nothing like outdoor dining.

And there was Susie, outdoors, dining. Eating a sandwich at some tiny place catering to people who wore beatnik hats and pushed inch-wide wood wedges through their ear lobes. She was sitting at a small iron-wrought table with a dingy tablecloth, ripped in all the right places, that screamed THIS PLACE IS TRYING REALLY HARD TO BE TRENDY. Susie bought into it, as the menu probably required her to slice off an arm to pay. She was slouched against her chair, stuffing the sandwich into her face with as much energy and gusto as a sickly invalid. Big bug-eyed sunglasses hid most her face, but there was no mistaking the thinly veiled anger and disdain there.

“Susie,” Marnie called out as she dodged yet another frickin biker trying to make his way down the narrow sidewalk. “Watch it, damn public nuisance,” she snapped.

He turned his electric blue helmeted head around. “Fuck off, street walker,” he said before swerving to miss an elderly woman.

Marnie dropped her jaw before whipping around to face Suise. “Did you hear that?” she said, “He called me a street walker!” Suisie sighed as she took a long swig from a bottle of pale beer.

“Well you are a street walker,” she said. Marnie slapped her pocket book on the table. It made a loud snap that startled Susie into choking. She coughed and coughed and wiped away at her lips with a deep red napkin.

“I mean, you’re walking on the street, that’s all,” she said with a hurried annoyance.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that,” Marnie said and plopped down opposite of Susie.

“You’re a street walker, he’s a street rider,” she said and drank again.

“Street walker…shit,” Marnie muttered to herself and crossed her arms. A waitress came by to check on Susie, and to see if Marnie wanted anything. No, she didn’t.

“Why not? You’re making me feel bad,” Susie said, holding the waitress from attending to other tables.

Marnie shook her head. “I have an eating disorder study to shape up for, or, shape down, rather.”

“God, your still doing that shit?”

“It’s a lot of money they’re offering for this one. I have to become a convincing anorectic,” she said.

“Well, do bulimia, because I don’t want to eat alone. Ah, another beer,” she said to the waitress.

Marnie glared across the table before casting her order. “Bread and butter.” Susie smiled as the waitress left.

“Alcohol during the day?” Marnie said as she spread the deep red napkin across her lap.

“It’s past noon,” Susie offered with a shrug as she finished off her current bottle. She set it aside and leaned back in her chair. The oil soaked sandwich in front of her gleaned in the sunlight.

“What did you call me out for?” Marnie asked as she slouched.

Susie sighed and arched her eyebrows over the round sunglasses. She shook her head, just the slightest as she looked on down the street.

“It’s Gavin, I broke it off,” she said and sighed again.

“Susie…” Marnie said, trying to sound sympathetic. There was no end to the crazy tales of Gavin and his…odd sense of what a relationship was. But after six long months, it seemed as if the stories were coming to an end. Pity, it provided a good ego boost.

Susie reached down to play with the straps of her shoes. “Yet another psycho passes on by,” she said, pouting her lips, like she always did when disappointed.

“What did he do now?” Marnie asked. It was now time for the shit dealing, her favorite part of breakups. Such a catharsis.

“Six months,” Susie said and shook her head again, “After so long, I find him wearing the pants of another.”

Marnie felt the corner of her mouth twitch, she fought against it. “What…?” she began.

Susie looked straight at her, or the wide, fat orbs that were her sunglasses did. She shot her words out with a vengeance and anger, hungry for Prime Rib of Gavin. “After all this time, I find out he was only in it for my pants!”

“Well, most do want to get inside your pants,” Marnie said as she chuckled.

“No!” Susie said and slapped her hand on the table. “He wanted my pants, my panties!”

“What? You let him wear your panties?” Marnie said and she stuck her head forward, “You never told me this!”

“Why would I tell you something as embarrassing as that?” Susie scoffed. “They were hot pink and frilly! I never buy hot pink and frilly, the bastard.”

“That’s fucked up,” Marnie said as she shook her head.

“I know. I can’t believe he did that, with a hot pink and frilly pair no less. Vulgar.”

“But it’s not like he cheated on you,” Marnie said, “However bizarre it is…”

“Yes, he did! They were another woman’s panties. Disgusting.”

Marnie’s shoulder heaved as she spewed forth laughter. Susie kicked her from underneath the table, but Marnie laughed anyway.

“It’s fucked up that you let him wear your panties. You lost control right then and there.”

“Whatever.”

“You can’t let a man wear the pants and the panties in a relationship,” Marnie said between laughs. “It’s all lopsided then.”

Susie began to smile and turned it into a laugh. Marnie prodded at her from under the table.

“It’s for the best, nay?” She said and reached for Susie’s hand. Susie lifted it off the table and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s the last fucking psycho you’ll see me with,” she said.

“Yeah, wait until you see the next freak, then say that again,” Marnie said.

She glanced to her left. A black haired man was sipping coffee and reading a book, she couldn’t see what from here. His ears were full of holes and silver, with a wood cork-screw in the lobes. His shirt looked stained with paint, or blood. Susie followed her eye line, and smiled.

“All right, but not exactly what I’m looking for,” she said.

“Not your type of freak?” Marnie said.

Susie kicked her from underneath the table.