issue91theladyofshallot

                                                  ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM

***BIO*** Eric D. Lehman: I am a Professor of English at the University of Bridgeport in Connecticut and have previously published essays, fiction, and poetry in various journals, such as Hackwriters, Nature's Wisdom, Niederngasse, Umbrella, Artistry of Life, Canopic Jar, Red River Review, Identity Theory, Mastodon Dentist, SNReview, Switchback, Venture Magazine, and T-Zero.

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The Lady of Shallot

by Eric D. Lehman

         Kelsey's ranch house on Robin Hill was dark and quiet, shades drawn. I sat in my car and sighed. Never a good idea to visit the house of an ex. But she called and I felt guilty and well. I tramped up the stone walkway and rang the doorbell. "Come in," emanated from the depths of the stone building. I entered. The hallway was dark. Books lined the walls like pills. Kelsey herself perched on a Barco-lounger in the back room, which was hopelessly cluttered. Magazines crawled in circles on the floor. The television's volume was turned down, but bright images of beautiful people flickered on the screen. I sat down on a dusty sofa...how did her parents let it get like this? Maybe they're never there. Two doctors on call. Leaving Kelsey alone in the tower of her solitude.

          "Hey Kelsey," I greeted her. "What's up?"

          "Not much," she said and then prattled on for an hour about "not much." I almost asked where her dog was, then remembered he died the year before. Instead, I watched the TV screen and was bothered by a crack of light that caused a reflection. The sliding glass door behind us. The curtains were drawn, of course, but not completely. I stood up to look in the backyard.

          "What're you doing?" she asked, interrupting herself.

          "Just taking a peek out back."

          "Just don't open it."

          "What, no sunlight? Are you a vampire?" I didn't open the door, but instead peered out at the flowers, the garden, and the space-blue pool that sparkled in the bright day.

          "I wish," she sighed.

          The television set belched and caught my attention. I sat down, watching a lingerie commercial.

          "No," she continued, "I'm just living in darkness."

          She turned the volume up and we watched some more TV, sucked into the mirror, the mirage of the world. The sliver of glare popped up, though, every time I tried to lose myself. Kelsey talked to me about several television shows as if they were real. I still love good TV, but I was past what she had fallen into. The reflection of the dream. Kelsey was not living with the darkness, she was looking out, through the illusion of a make believe world, and the darkness was crushing her like a laundry press.

          Finally, Kelsey asked me to give her a foot massage, which led to a back massage, which led to kissing, fooling around. I kissed her neck, her breasts with tight nipples, avoided the weight she'd put on around her hips and waist, went down on her, gave her a sudden orgasm, stripped off my clothes, TV still the focus of our attention, and she tried to suck me hard, but I was limp, totally limp, and couldn't get stiff. I tried to fuck her, but I wasn't horny, in fact, I was kind of repulsed. By what? A thousand things, I don't know, but I couldn't get it up.

          "Great," I sighed, not wanting to tell her that I found her disgusting. "I guess maybe I've been looking forward to this too much."

          "Yeah," she said, naked, squirming on the rug.

          "Maybe if I open this...it's too hot in here." In one motion I pulled open the shades and yanked across the glass, letting in sunlight and wind. Kelsey squealed and scuttled back, pulling on her panties.

          "What's your problem?" I stood there naked.

          "What if someone looks in?"

          I glanced at the tall hedges that circle the yard. "I don't think so."

          Kelsey continued dressing, then reconsidered and tried to turn me on again, biting my chest and pelvis. But it was no good, I was completely numb. We collapsed on the couch. She probably thought I was impotent, not her problem.

          I dressed in a haphazard way, muttering something about "maybe later." Kelsey put on a terry-cloth robe and set some water on the stove for tea. "Whatever happened to that girl?" she called from the kitchen.

          "Hunh," I gave a noncommittal remark, hoping she'd drop it.

          She waddled rodentlike back into the living/dying room. "Did you guys break up?"

          "Sort of."

          She gave a short bark. "Yeah? I think you're still going out with her...you cheating bastard." She tried to make it sound like a joke.

          "Uh-huh, whatever."

          Probably annoyed at my unwillingness to actually fuck her, even though I gave her an orgasm, she started to get snotty. "Well, some people never grow up."

          "Give me a break, Kels, you're not one to talk."

          "What does that mean?" She was getting pissed and I didn't want to continue the discussion.

          "Nothing, I mean, you've done just as bad," I lied, knowing there is no such thing as bad, knowing that the way she lives is far, far worse, a lie to herself instead of others.

          "But that was when we were...young...now I've got Lance."

          "Australia guy?"

          "Yes...I don't cheat on him, we're going to get engaged soon."

          Her fat, batlike blindness was so complete that I couldn't even think of how to answer that. "Yeah, well," I shrugged. "Didn't you think that we were going to get engaged a few years ago?"

          "Well, we were in love."

          "Yeah." I didn't look at her. "I guess."

          "Lorin, you're a dick."

          "Uh-huh." I watched the television.

          "No, you really are."

          "I've never been a dick to you," I said, refusing to get upset.

          "In general."

          "Yeah, okay, Kelsey."

          "You're a dick with a limp dick," she chittered happily, thinking she'd made the world's most original joke.

          My patience broke. "What is your problem? Are you a fucking nutball? What is your problem?" I repeated.

          The rage in her doll face told me that I said the wrong thing. "Fuck you, Lorin," she sat down, trying now to sound flip about it.

          "Maybe I shouldn't have come," I muttered.

          "What?"

          "I said, maybe I shouldn't have come."

          And, perhaps realizing that she needed me, that she needed anyone, she turned to me again. "No, we...had a good..."

          I shrugged again and stood up, actually to go piss, but she thought I was leaving.

          "Wait, Lorin, I'm sorry." Kelsey looked up at me and the pathetic yearning need in her face disgusted me more than her lust or anger and I moved again, unsure now where I was walking.

          She kicked a mug gracelessly and it skittered into the TV, cracking the glass with a loud snap. "Oh! No!"

          I opened the screen door and walked out into the backyard, the sun burning my raw lips and I looked down the hill to the pool, shimmering, calling with a ripply voice, and with crystal chlorine vision I saw the future at the bottom of the pool and knew that Kelsey would one day immerse herself there, soaking in it with all the mania of her screaming now. I walked to my car, wondering why I went there, except to drown the past.

July 2007