TRAPDOOR /
9
Esther walked along the bridge. The pink beams, the cage structure. There was the faint spray of lamplight. It was quiet. A bike passed along the other side, and a subway rattled just below her. The cars had thinned out in the night and a couple people crossed her path in the opposite direction, drinking from paper bags with straws.
She started to mumble the lyrics to an old song, remembering more the music video. The actor with the trombone. The feeling of imminent baldness on all fronts. ―A street in a strange world, she said. There was the sound of quick footsteps.
―Hey. Hi. Esther turned. A woman of indeterminate age was behind her. ―I just wanted to say something to you.
―Oh? What?
―If I ever end up like you… The woman was wearing a yellow blazer and yellow jeans. She caught her breath. ―If I ever end up like you, I want someone to shoot me.
―Oh.
―No, I mean it.
―I just… That’s fine. I’m just, like. I just want to try to walk.
―You just want to? That’s what you want to do?
―Or I’m doing it, okay. I’m just taking a walk.
―What are you saying to yourself?
―I… It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if I bothered you.
―No, I want to know.
―It’s stupid.
―Okay.
―I was saying the words to You Can Call Me Al.
―I don’t know that one.
―Yes you do. You just need to hear it.
―Well then say it to me.
―It’s the hook that does it. It’s the instrumental hook. You’d, like, recognize it.
―Well I don’t doubt that but if you won’t say it to me…
―I’m very tired, I… Like, I just want to walk across the bridge.
―Well who’s not tired? Who’s not tired in the middle of the night?
―It’s not that late.
―Every second you don’t let me hear the song, I don’t get to know, and it fucks me up, and you don’t get to keep walking, so it’s pretty futile, right?
They were silent. Esther looked at the woman for a moment, then began, ―Da duh-duh dunt. Da duh-duh dahnt… Da duh-duh…
―I can’t understand you.
Louder, she chanted, ―Da duh-duh dunt. Da duh-duh dahnt… Da duh-duh dunt. Da duh-duh dahnt.
―That’s what that is? It’s called "You Can Call Me Al?"
―Yeah… Yeah, it’s a famous song… I don’t know.
―Well it’s a stupid name.
―I mean, I guess so… That’s just its name.
―Well if I’d have written it I would’ve called it something else.
―Yeah… Well, okay. Good night. Esther tried to turn away from the woman.
―Where are you going?
―I’m just walking over the bridge.
―You live over there or something?
―No, I live that way.
―So you’re just going to walk back over when you’re done?
―I guess so.
―Does that make any sense to you? That is so pointless.
―I’m… I’m sorry. It’s fine, I just, like, need a walk.
―When I was a kid, nobody walked on the bridge. It was a way to get raped or abducted or to kill yourself.
―I mean, but it’s not so bad now. Clearly…
―You would get to one of those side things, where it goes out over the highway and then you’d scale the fence and jump off. It was easy. What do you know about it?
―I don’t, I’m sorry. I don’t. I’ve had a very long day. Suddenly I’m very tired. I was, like, awake, that’s why I was walking… But now I’m tired.
―So go home then.
―I think I’ll walk a little more, if that’s okay. I just need to clear my head. Good night, I’m sorry for annoying you or whatever.
―Don’t give me that or whatever. I’m a person. I’m just trying to have a conversation with you. What are you mentally ill or something?
―Maybe… Or something… I don’t want to, like, talk right now really.
―So little of what we do in life is about want. Or even choice. Free will is a fallacy. What is free will?
―You’re right. I don’t know. I agree with you.
―What freedom do you have in that you’re thrown into life and forced to start dying? What freedom is there that you’re confined by gravity, by the fact you need to breathe and eat?
―I said you’re right. I’ve heard the argument, I’m with you. We are chained to certain things. There are things, like, arbitrating everything, so that any choice is, like, predetermined by what is even possible to do, et cetera. I get it.
―Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot. You think I’m some retard or something because I talk to you on the bridge. Who are you, why are you on the bridge?
―I’m not anyone. I don’t think you’re stupid. I’m sorry… I’m sorry.
―You’re so special for being alone on a bridge? I’m alone. I live alone. What do you think I do that makes me so retarded or whatever? I’m just another person. I need to be taken care of too. I didn’t think this is what would happen to me. I didn’t spend my life thinking this is what it would be.
―I know… I know.
―What do you know? What are you suffering? I’m suffering. What, you think because I’m out here in the middle of the night on the streets I’m homeless? I’m a junkie? I’m at the end of my little retard rope?
―No. No, I didn’t think that. I was just, I don’t know. I just came from…
―’Cause I am homeless. I am. You think just because I take care of myself I can’t be homeless? Just because I’m not a haggard old freak? Some of us are able to take pride in the little left we have of will. In cleaning our clothes, in brushing our teeth and finding the right foods. Stuff you would throw away, but it’s perfectly healthy!
―I believe you!
―There’s microorganisms in soil, you know. There’s ways of being nutritional, of being dry at night. You think I couldn’t live in a fancy little apartment like you and get a little job like you? I choose to be this way!
―I think. Like, that’s great. I think it’s, like, really important to do what you want to do.
―You do what you want to do?
―I, like. I try to.
―What are you?
―I’m just… I’m nothing. I’m Esther.
―Oh, perfect. I mean what do you do, Esther? For money and things?
―I… I just got out of school. I’m, like, an artist, I guess.
―You make art? What do you make?
―Just stupid things. I made some things with wood. Never mind. I need to go.
―So you do what you want? You’re living the way you want to?
―It’s fine.
―You always knew it would be this way? That you’d get this way?
―What way? The woman stood, looking at her. ―I don’t… I mean, guess I assumed it could happen. Or that it would, really. That everything would, like, fall into place. If you did the work, made stuff good, you’d get recognized. Rewarded. You could get anything in life just by attempting it… And that’s exactly what did happen! That’s how it went. If I did something, if, I like, tried something on my own, it almost always worked. When I wanted to go to the beach, we went to the beach. If I sat down with something, I could ultimately reach some convivial state with it. People frequently said they saw something in me, but that was on them. It’s in other people that the things get lost. I always wondered, why do they say people settle for something in others? Is that what people are doing? I never felt like I was being forced to do anything. I feel like I know freedom. I feel free.
―So you are happy?
―Okay, I’m happy. Is it a crime?
―It’s unexpected is all… That you would be.
―Aren’t you?
―Well of course I am. I’m very fulfilled. I’m suffering on my own accord. I can see into the core of people. It’s what I do with my day. And I have a P.O. box, and I get checks in the mail from the government.
―How do you vote?
―I can’t! Thank god. It makes life even better. And it doesn’t matter. Either way the checks keep coming in.
―People don’t want you to be happy here. They don’t think you should be able to find satisfaction, but when everything is gone, when you let all the noise slip away and it’s just a blank flat world, and all you can do is think it. Is there anything more to life than having thoughts? You think your own world, like. How could it ever be any better?
―Now you’ve started to lose me.
―I never took any medications. I sold them to people online without insurance. I, like, I wanted to let the world have me, but I feel like I have it. I feel like I can see the patterns changing. I am lifted.
―But that’s limited. That can’t go on forever.
―No. Yes, of course, I mean. You’re lifted, or then you drop right through the ground. That is another thing they make you want to think is bad. It’s not a trap, you’d just, like, fall right into the next thing. It couldn’t take yourself away. This and every world is just an extension of that.
―Why do you think he called it that? That song?
―Who knows. I was just a kid. They played it on the radio. It’s like I just remembered. The walks were very long and different every time. There was a freckled old man who wore all black and you’d pay him to park your car in his driveway. He had large glasses, like, and terrible teeth. And he always held his jaw when he smoked, like it hurt him. But he never stopped smoking. The beach was a half a mile away, but it was different every time. Sometimes you’d walk with your sandals off on the rocks and you’d be, like, jumping. Sometimes you had collected periwinkles or something and you could throw them out behind you as you went. Sometimes it zipped by, the entire thing. But you still, inside of you I mean, like, you always knew the walk was long. I went to sleep on the beach many times. My brother and me. We’d go into the water and stay until our lips were blue and shaking, and talk to the other kids out there. Once my brother said he saw a girl’s boob. We built structures and dug pits and buried each other. And one time I went to sleep and when I woke up everything was different. Like how when you wake up in the afternoon and your face hurts. But this was even more than that. Not different like every time but totally transformed. We could dig much deeper much faster and our lips didn’t get blue, and the walks were quick and even. This is when I started to see things like how they were for only me. My parents don’t have memories of the sound my brother used to make with his tongue against his cheek. He doesn’t remember seeing the boob or being stung by a jellyfish. Nobody did. The sunset, you could, like, pause it or something. It happened so fast before, but then you could control it so the days lasted as long as you wanted.
―What you’re saying is inconsistent with what we were talking about before.
―It doesn’t matter! That’s how it is! You were wrong about everything, you were trying to manipulate me!
―But what about free will? What we agreed on?
―I don’t feel attached to that anymore. I don’t feel interested in your philosophy.
―But do you think I was like I am now then? When you had your memory?
―Maybe. I don’t know how old you are or how it happened.
―Yeah…
―I’m going to go home now.
―You should finish your walk. You were holding onto the fence, like, tracing it with your hand.
―I don’t want to anymore.
―Want or need? What’s going on? Where are you going? Did you take something from me, wait a second. But Esther had started to walk away. ―What’s the tune of that song again… You won’t be cute forever, you know. One day you’ll get old and boring and boring looking. We all need to die.
―But I’ll get there on my own. I already told you. In a way, I am. In part of my lifetime, it’s all happened. We get to do it anyway, though.
―But can’t I walk with you?
―I don’t think so.
10
In the subway station, there was a damp sound. And emptiness. The tunnel was lighted, and it was dark. ―Matt! Damn you, are you down here?
―No.
―What are you doing? Where are you?
―Leave me alone.
Tyler walked across the platform, looking for the source of the voice. Then down, at the body lying on the tracks. ―What the fuck, man.
―Why aren’t you with your girlfriend?
―Who?
―Why are you here?
―I tried to follow you.
―I don’t care.
―I came back for you.
―Esther just doesn’t like you either.
―That’s fine. I’m okay with that. She couldn’t handle me. It’s fine, that was so long ago. I still like her okay, I’m just not into her.
―Great.
―What’s your plan here exactly?
―I’m killing myself. You think I’m not depressed? How could you do this to me?
―I didn’t do anything.
―This is a classic deceit. I’ve been forsaken. The whole of my life I could’ve done something. It’s like I’m a spectator to my own pointlessness.
―No, no. This isn’t classic. It was just, it was just a thing.
―It was classic and it’s been done. You’re like Judas. Or Iago. Or like a Bret Easton Ellis character. You suck.
―This was like, no. This is my life. It resembles nothing. I’m trying to engage with the world.
―Well have fun with that.
―You know this doesn’t count. You’re not depressed, you’re just being dramatic.
―I am. I am depressed, and I’ve always been, and I’m going to kill myself.
―Letting a subway run over you doesn’t count.
―Sure it does. Why shouldn’t it?
―It’s so passive. You aren’t doing anything. You’re just letting something happen. Plus this way you make the conductor have PTSD. It’s cowardly.
―You’re a coward.
―I know. I’m very scared. I feel very scared of everything that’s happened. I was alone and I was scared. You left me alone.
―I didn’t leave you alone. You just wanted me to do something and I couldn’t do it. I have responsibilities.
―It would’ve been better for everyone involved. It would’ve been, like, you could’ve escaped. You wouldn’t have been a spectator, we’d have been in it together.
―Why would I want to? You don’t take me seriously.
―You’re not a serious person, man. Look at you right now. You can’t even kill yourself right. Buy a gun. Use a kitchen knife. Slice open your milky blond wrists and watch it happen. Don’t just wait for someone else to come along and do your dirty work for you.
―I don’t care about you and Esther. It was her name. It was what it meant, all the things before… You don’t know, man.
―Sure I do.
―Not everything is easy for everyone. Sometimes people’s unhappiness, people’s struggles… They don’t just act on them and show it off to everyone.
―Hey, stop. It’s not my fault. But right after you told me, I had to have her. Didn’t you know I’d have to do that? Don’t you even know me? It was exactly what was always going to happen. I had to track her down…
―No you didn’t.
―You still have photography. I have nothing.
―I don’t like taking pictures anymore!
―I could’ve been somebody. Did I ever tell you I was a high school athlete? I broke half the sprinting records.
―You’ve told me.
―And I quit because I couldn’t take it anymore. I had a strange and beautiful way of seeing things. It’s all gone. I don’t see anything in anything anymore. I was depressed, but now I’m broken. I don’t even exist.
―You’re not the only sad person. You’re not, like, the only person who might’ve been something but actually never was.
―It’s like, everything I found meaningful and touching. A little flutter in the corner of my eye. It used to be anything I saw, I could speak on it forever. Now all I know is that I’m, like, that’s all inaccessible. I’m out of my prime. I’m resigned to this way. And I have to live so much longer. I’m not even drunk right anymore. I sweated it all out looking for you.
―I sit at a desk in university archive all day looking at the records of stuff people did. People who mattered, they made breakthroughs. Downtown New York, the eighties and nineties and everything we loved. How do you think, like… How should I feel? I never did anything.
Some silence. ―Should I get down there with you?
―Come down here.
Matt moved over, and Tyler lay down on the tracks next to him. ―I feel old. Old and used up in this world.
―But we’re still really young.
―I’ve spent so much time finding identity in depression that I can’t even remember why I ever felt depressed. People say they’re just lucky to have their memories. Where are mine, though? All I have is a series of things that happened. I haven’t written them down. I don’t remember my childhood in terms of any real thing at all. It had no effect on me. My parents weren’t schizophrenic or drunk or even mean. They punished me by having me sit quietly in my room with books. They kissed me on the lips until the appropriate age. I was never humiliated, I avoided everything like it was my job. I’m not haunted. I lived normally.
―I was abused as a child.
―You were?
―Well… Matt looked at the ceiling, where the water swam around the supporting structures and dripped off. ―Not that I can remember… But it would make sense.
―Yeah… Yeah…
―I’m just another person with dreams and love and a slow death inside.
―You shithead.
―I already didn’t want to say it as it was coming out.
They didn’t look at each other. ―How long were you waiting down here before I found you.
―A while… Where’s the train?
A voice barrelled down the tunnel. ―What the fuck do you think you’re doing? A body appeared above them. A neon orange vest and hard hat.
―Don’t try to stop us, Tyler said. ―We’re here to end our lives. This doesn’t concern you.
―Damn straight it does. Get the fuck off the tracks, we got a construction team coming through.
―But where’s the train, Matt asked. ―We just want to die passively.
―There’s no trains coming through here this weekend. It’s closed for maintenance. Don’t you read the signs?
―The signs?
―Posted all over the fucking platform. Get your asses up, or should I call the police? I’m sure there’s room in lockup for a couple fairies cruising trying to get their rocks off in the subway on a Thursday night.
―Can we go to a mental hospital maybe, Matt said.
―I’ll put you in some kind of hospital.
Tyler sighed. ―This is hardly how I imagined it would go. Somehow, I don’t even feel like dying anymore.
―Me either.
―In fact, why would I want to die? I have thoughts. I have experiences. Isn’t every thought a worthwhile thing? Isn’t every neuron that fires an event? A creative explosion? I’m, like, maybe I’m just marginal. Maybe I don’t think like how other people do, and they just haven’t caught up with me yet.
―Maybe shut the fuck up and get out of here.
The employee kicked at Tyler, who, helping Matt up, smiled. ―I feel, like, reborn.
―I feel depressed.
―Me too, me too, though! But it means something now. It means something again. We faced death and came out the other side.
―I should quit my job.
―Yes! Right now! Send them an email right now!
―I can’t really do it like that…
―Well another time then. I’m very hungry. And thirsty. Do you think there’s any cute girls at Myrtle? What time is it?
―Maybe you should just go to bed.
―But alone?… Maybe… Maybe… They went to leave. ―Wait, listen. Let me tell you something… There was a band. I always wanted to see them live. Their name slips my mind now. You know, two guys and a girl? They did a lot of heroin and drugs and stuff? It seemed so cool. They came to town a few times, I think they even came through Myrtle once, but I was always busy. I figured there’d always be another chance to see them. But they put out an album and, like, immediately broke up… They had this song I loved. I always messed up the lyrics. I thought they were saying, like, All blurred out hoodie bitch I can’t see ya. Like that he was wasted and his hoodie was falling over his face or something. That’s not the words, though, I got those totally wrong for years. And I think I, like, poisoned myself with that. I can’t remember the real lyrics for shit, but I’ll remember the wrong ones forever… Not so distant sounds of a construction train emanated from the tunnel. ―Look. Tyler picked a magazine up off the ground. ―Sixty-three secrets to better orgasms. I’d actually like you to flip to that while I figure out where to go. Tyler took out at his phone.
Matt looked at the magazine. It was dusty and wet and in his hand. ―But what about your cat?
―What about her?
―You… You wanted to say stuff about your cat to me. You kept saying that there was something you wanted to talk about. Back before… everything.
―Oh, Tyler was looking at his phone. ―I mean, she’s just a cat. I think she might have a tapeworm, but I’d hate to take that away from her.
< Chapters 7 & 8
TRAPDOOR /
7
―There was no escaping. It was a feeling of total aloneness. Complete isolation. Like my entire mind had been turned in on itself. I walked miles just, like, trying to regain a sense that there was something left of me. Why I was even there. Tyler took a long pull on the beer and moved his hand on the table, next to Paula’s. ―God, and now the summer’s over. Just like that. It happens without you even seeing it. I can’t even, like, remember it. While it’s happening it’s just like blurs. But all you ever get is the present, you know? It’s insane. It was just like in high school, running around the track. The goal was very unclear. You got nowhere. You could break a record by getting to where you started. I saw the ocean, monuments and churches, cherished art, and it was inescapable. It was repetitive and terrible and made me, like, a little horny, but I had no way to act on it. Everything was a divide. I couldn’t even experience it. It was very depressing, I had to get out of there.
―But surely you cannot say all of Europe is the same in this?
―Can’t I? Didn’t I just say that?
―But that was just Berlin, it…
―No, no! Berlin, Copenhagen, Paris, Lisbon. Are you even listening? I went through it all. Portugal! Isn’t that even why we’re talking right now?
―You need to be more quiet. This is verging on the unacceptable.
―Listen, Paula. I’m sorry. Listen, see, my tone. I’ve adjusted it. I’m sorry. I got excited. I had a very difficult summer. It was difficult to control myself. I had a girl not so long ago, but she’s gone. I think I can’t control my voice because I like you so much. One woman called me crazy once, you know. It was a very painful thing. I just want to be, like… I think you are very compelling to be around.
―So you say.
―Oh god, no! I know you think I’m all, like, whatever. I’m sorry I insulted Europe. Maybe I’m not. It’s strange to be back home. I’m supposed to be, like, together. I should get a job and stuff. My cat’s all upset I’m afraid it resents me. I’m afraid it always did and I’m just seeing that now. I had a friend stop in and feed it, but maybe that wasn’t enough. It sleeps on the couch now. It shakes its ass around all brazen and stuff.
―What is your kitty’s name?
―Cookie. No. That’s a lie. I don’t know why I said it. I don’t know how that came out. Her name is Marble.
―Oh… She’s a lady cat?
―I think it’s only right for one’s pet to be of the opposite sex. It makes for a more domestic dynamic. We keep each other, like. We keep each other. Like husband and wife.
―Why does it have to be only husband and wife? You think it is not right for a man to love women and not other men?
―You’re missing the point! Of course I’m pro-gay marriage. LGBTQ whatever. Yes. I am pro all that. I’m very progressive. Believe me, I’m really very put together. About as normal as I could possibly be. I know you’re thinking otherwise, but I’m assuring you this is just an act. I have a very nice apartment, that I keep very clean and orderly and well decorated. It’s just me and Marble and our thoughts and a handful of drugs and things.
―I can’t really want to look at you when your hair is in your face like that. Getting to and inside your mouth.
―I’m sorry, it… It was supposed to be something else. It’s kind of a way of, I don’t know. It got too long. I know it doesn’t look good that’s the point.
―There are a lot of men, it seems, who look like this around the city. It’s been a eye opening experience. Everywhere, it’s like stupidity abounds. Everyone trying to outdo the next. You think it is repetitive in Europe, I think it is too much hoping for difference here. There is a certain homeliness. Everyone tries to look cooler than he is. Like are you thinking to be artist? What must you prove? What do you make?
―Well I don’t know, why don’t you come see for yourself. My place is just a few blocks from here. You don’t even know, the neighborhood’s changed so much. It is all different. That’s what I was looking for. Berlin used to be this cool, dark city with all these possibilities. It might’ve been like that here too, years ago. But it’s over.
―What is over? It’s not a memory here. You can look and see it’s as this now.
―I mean, I get it. Everywhere is over. I feel suspicious of you. What’s so great about your opinion on New York? Why don’t you come over anyway?
―But you weren’t able to communicate with women like this in Lisbon?
―Sometimes I tell people I’m bipolar to get out of difficult situations, but it didn’t really translate… He helped with her coat. ―I should warn you. That girl I told you about, she’s back in town. She’s an artist. A real one. I mean she’s also an artist. She’s showing at a gallery not far away, the opening’s tomorrow. We may be together again soon. We might be in love, the two of us. Maybe you and I won’t last, but, like, who knows? Maybe there’s time for that too. I already feel like maybe we should go. I’m, like, but, hey, so come over here in the bathroom a second, maybe you’ll like this…
8
―It was just so unexpected. It was scary, you know. And I don’t see why they had to interrogate me like that. Why couldn’t it have been prearranged? The way it went down, I mean, like, they know how unnerving it must have been for me.
Emily touched Esther’s arm gently, righting the plastic glass of wine. She brushed hair out of her friend’s face. ―Well, but why wouldn’t they? Why should they care? I mean, the way things are, what else could you expect?
―I hardly knew her! Esther took the wine back. ―I was barely aware who she was and then I’ve got, like. It feels like the walls were going to come down around me, I could hardly breathe. They’re in my doorway holding up their little wallets and stuff showing me badges. It was like TV.
On the wall there was a large paragraph of bold, black text that Esther had painted with stencils earlier in the week. Driftwood was arranged in the center of the room and again in the corner. In another corner, a thirty foot telephone pole stood. Emily wondered how they’d got in it. She looked back at her friend, who wasn’t far from shaking. ―Come on, it’s okay. They have to cover their bases, naturally. I mean, like, really, consider yourself lucky. I’ve been on and off the phone with them everyday for a month.
―They were acting like I knew something or something. I was crying. I couldn’t even think of her last name. The list of things they said to me… It was impossible. The room was spinning, and I’m trying to explain to them I have an opening I’m supposed to be setting up for. My first ever solo show, as if they gave a shit.
―I know. I’m sorry.
―I only met her those few times, I don’t see why they’d even consider me more than, like. Like a wisp in her life.
―It’s my fault. They probably were using our phones as microphones. They can do that you know. They knew you lived with me. Who knows how long she’d been planning it.
―But why now? Like, why ISIS?
―Why does anyone do anything?
―Does she want to die?
―I doubt it. If she did, though, would that offend you? How many of the people in your life act like they want to die all the time?
―I was reading those excerpts from her Twitter, and I was just, like inside her. Wondering. Thinking of her on the plane, crossing into Syria. The checkpoints, her planning and communications, everything, like, encrypted and stuff. It was all happening and nobody even tried to deter it? How must her family feel?
―I’ll tell you how they feel. They’re treating it like a funeral. They’ve had her Facebook shut down and they’re planning, like, a memorial or something. Her picture in the paper like that, it’s like she doesn’t even exist anymore.
―And what she’s calling herself now, Amatullah Aliyah Muhammad? How the hell did she get that from Megan?
―She always used to sing that song, "Are You That Somebody?".
―The last thing I needed this morning was the CIA in my house.
―Well it’s over. I can’t imagine they’re going to bother you anymore. Emily looked around the room. More people were coming in, wanting to say things to Esther, but seemed afraid to approach. ―And this is amazing. You guys really made it look great.
―Thanks.
―Let me get a picture of you in front of that one.
Esther posed. ―Let me see… They passed the phone back and forth. ―Has she tried to get in touch with you at all?
―She did… She tried to, like, convert me. Like a week after she left. It was very weird. I had to, like, contact this guy from Washington and he came over and took my computer and gave me a new one. They said that’s going to happen every time she contacts me, if she does, but I doubt she will.
―I hate this world.
―Well so did she, I guess.
―Hiya. Esther felt someone’s hand on her shoulder.
―Oh. Suddenly she was being hugged and put her arms out, gathering what was happening. ―Tyler. Hi.
―What’s wrong?
―Nothing.
―I don’t believe you. Did somebody do something to you? Did somebody try to sexually assault you or something?
―What? No.
―That’s good. That’s a relief. This place looks great! Hi Emily. She walked away. ―I can’t believe you put all this together in just a few months, god. I’m so happy for you.
―Well, thank you. Thanks. I just hope it’s not too stupid. I don’t even care if anything sells, I just don’t want someone to write something for a lot of people to read that says it’s stupid.
―Well someone’s going to say it’s stupid. People always say stuff like that. Hey where’d you get that wine? Not that it means that it is stupid, it’s just that stupid people, like, there’s always enough of them to… You know?
―I guess so.
―So where’d you get that wine?
―It’s on the table, over there.
―Oh, just a second. He poured himself a glass. Drank it and poured another. ―I have a terrible hangover, I’m sorry. I could hardly get out of bed, but I had to come see you. This is amazing.
―Thank you.
―You know, like, the artist herself. You were right. It’s good you went back to school. How else would you have had the time, the resources. You were so right. I’m sorry I ever said anything contrary. Like, this is really an accomplishment. You’re the real thing, I mean, look at it.
―All right, okay. It’s just, you know. It’s really nothing. It’s just what I was working on, I don’t know.
―Well anything more like this and you’re made. Like, your career… Listen, I’m just so happy I get to see you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Maybe you think I did stop, but I didn’t. You left an impression on me that I can’t get away from.
―How was your summer?
―You know, it was pretty horrible. Running around Europe alone, lost. I wanted to feel like I was enveloping myself. I wanted to believe I could make myself a part of anything, but I couldn’t. It gave me a lot of time to think, though, you know? Maybe I’m not on the right path. Maybe I should listen to others more than just run my mouth and believe in a certain destiny because I’m so much better than everyone. I’m really not. I’m really sad. I’m sad and anxious, and I thought I’d somehow gotten out of that with energy or whatnot. But, like, I think I’m more like I was as a child than I ever have been before.
―That’s a very, um… You sound like you’ve had a chance to really… That’s a very mature realization.
―I mean, I get it. It was my fault things didn’t work. But you’re independent, you’re in control of your life. I respect that. Last winter everything was all over the place for me, but I’m more centered. I see things how they are. I, like, I think you know what I mean.
―Your hair looks better.
―Oh, you think so? Well thank you. You know, I don’t want to alienate people anymore. I want to be a part of people. I think you taught me that. I feel inspired by what you’ve done here.
―It really isn’t anything.
―But it is! It makes me feel like I want to make sculpture and art and stuff. Do you think I could make something like this, if I tried?
―Maybe… I’m not sure. Maybe your thing more is about who you are. Maybe you’re more the product than the creator… Of, like, yourself.
―Well see, that’s what I always thought. You always understood stuff about me before I even got there myself. But I don’t want to be that anymore. I want to be something besides myself. I want myself to be able to, like, to take the back seat to something greater I’ve accomplished or something. I want to be like you.
―I don’t know if you want to be like me, Tyler. This past year was a struggle. Like, just this morning, I…
―But that struggle, see! It’s productive. It’s beautiful. You take something out of your instability, you don’t just see the despair and say that’s it! The insanity alone is not the answer, it’s the thing you work to escape, to express!
―Please don’t try to, like. Don’t put your own ideas on top of my, like. I’m a person. You’re projecting.
―I’m not!
―Can’t you just come here and say hello? Why do you have to act like this is some gesture. I have a bunch of friends here and I’m all caught up dealing with you. I thought we let this go after you couldn’t handle trying to visit even just that one time.
―But it has to be now. You’re here now, and…
―Esther! Hi! Matt bounded across the room, wrapping her in his arms.
―Oh, hello, Matt.
―Here you are again! Sorry I’m late, but I just heard about this now! The event just popped up on my Facebook, why didn’t you invite me?
―Oh, you know those things, it’s, like, sometimes it just messes up and never works.
―God, like, this sure is… Wait. So how do you know Tyler?
―Oh, Tyler… He’s just…
―Well, Matt, it’s good to see you. Did you have any luck with quitting your job this summer?
―Hey, you know what, I’m not like you. I can’t just ask my parents for money and fuck around and go travel the world carefree. I don’t have that luxury.
―You think I’m… You think I get money from my parents?
―Well whatever it is. I can’t live like that. I wanted to, and I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but…
―You left me alone out there, man. I was waffling. I was flapping my arms in the fucking deep end of the pool, man. Like at the edge of losing it. Who would’ve taken my picture if I’d died? What was I supposed to be doing out across Europe all fucked and alone?
―I told you, I’m sorry. You should’ve hit me up when you got back. I’ve missed you, but… Wait, Esther, where are you going? We should, like, catch up. How long are you in town?
―I don’t think this really concerns…
―But of course it does, wait! Wait, please, how long are you in town? I feel so stupid we never got a chance to hang out after that whole fucking ordeal at Myrtle. I spent the night in a holding cell, and then the next night too. They don’t see people on Sundays.
―Well that’s awful, but…
―Well just let me know if you’re in town, and did you change your number because I tried to text you after that and nobody responded.
―I’m sorry. I, like, I live here now, okay? So if you ever, like, really need to…
―Wait! Tyler grasped her forearm. ―How long have you been back in the city?
―A few months.
―What do you mean a few months?
―Well I graduated in May, so… What else was I going to do? Stay living in Rhode Island?
―Jesus, like. You… Tyler stopped holding her arm. ―But why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me?
―Why would she tell you? How do you even know each other?
―Esther…
―What? Matt looked at Tyler. He looked at Esther.
―We dated for like a second. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t realize how much it mattered to you. It’s not like you were dying to stay in touch with me the past six months.
―It’s not my fault! You left and I didn’t know how to do long distance. You weren’t anywhere near, and maybe I needed you. And then you came back without saying anything? I was battling my way through foreign countries and we could’ve been hanging out? I’ve been battling my way through just trying to be alive.
―You… But how did you date? How did you even know each other?
―I met her on a dating thing. I used, like, an app on my phone or whatever.
―What? When?
―I don’t know. In like February? It doesn’t matter. Listen, Esther…
She opened her mouth.
―Wait. Wait. Was this before or after I told you about her?
―What do you mean?
―Was this before or after I, like, fucking bore my soul to you? Matt didn’t know what to do with his hands. ―About how I’ve never been able to get over her.
―Man, I really don’t even remember. You think I care about…
―Yes, yes I do! I think you did care. I think you still only even gave a shit enough about it because I…
―You don’t know what you’re talking about.
―Did you, like, fucking stalk her? Did you try to figure out who she was through my social media and shit?
―And what if I did? What if I did? It doesn’t mean, like… It was still total chance. So I looked around and found her website and Twitter and what if I was able to glean she was recently single? Even if I fucked around on enough dating things, it was still complete chance. She had to reach out to me too. That’s how these things work. I might have given it a little shove, I might have tried all the angles I could or whatever, but I couldn’t force her to try back. Your little speech, sure it got in my head, but it was me who got into her life, not you. You didn’t do anything to make us fall into each other.
―I can’t believe this.
―It was kismet! It was true and honest kismet!
―No! No, what Esther and I have is kismet. It was going on for ten years, we keep running in and out of each others lives. We’re the ones falling into each other, not you! You just tried to take advantage of a situation because you’re a… conniving ass.
―Okay, what did my profile say? I made my About me thing specific. It was explicit, it said Must be depressed. It was funny. It was my way of getting girls to think it was funny, to look at my thing and if we had that in common, that’s why they reached out. Esther and me, we’re depressed. We’re the kind of people who suffer through this life looking for something. She’s an artist, and I am too. We have more in common than your little story about thinking she was cool when you were fifteen.
―But I’m depressed! Look at me, I’m depressed too! I’ve always been depressed!
―You’re not depressed. You’re normal. You go to work, you get tired of taking pictures. You’re a couple years away from moving to Westchester with some other dull bitch and sitting at a desk for the rest of your life. You don’t have passion, you don’t have fury. You have nothing to escape, no lust for life.
―I’ve been in therapy for years!
―That’s nothing! That’s meaningless. Think about not even being able to deal with a therapist. That’s real illness!
―You don’t know. I am, like. I’m horribly depressed. I’m crushed. I’ve been betrayed by the two most important people in my life.
―Now how can you say that? Esther, who’d been looking at her phone. People were moving around them now, trying to distract her from the display. ―This is, like, the fifth time we’ve ever even seen each other.
―Face it, pal. You’re nothing to her. You’re not even on her level. You come over here like a little puppy yapping at her heels, vying for her affection. You’re pathetic.
―Fuck you, man. Fuck all of this.
―Just leave. This is awful. This whole thing is, like. God. Why did you even come here? To look at art?
―I don’t need this world! Matt ran out of the gallery.
―Jesus… I’m sorry you had to see that. That’s my old life. That’s behind me. He doesn’t understand the nature of existence like we do. We think differently, we love differently. He just thinks things can, like, fall into his lap if he follows after them. That’s all he is. He’s a follower.
―Tyler, just…
―It’s okay. It’s over. I’m sorry he annoyed you for so long. I’m glad you came back, I can forgive you for not telling me. I understand. I hurt you… He walked around Esther’s turned away body to face her. ―We love each other, Esther. We were always going to have it harder than others, but together…
―I don’t love you, though. I never loved you.
―Don’t say that. But maybe you just don’t understand how to approach something that feels so difficult at first.
―You don’t love me. You don’t, like. Just… This isn’t about that. I got back with my boyfriend months ago. Like, almost as soon as you wouldn’t come visit me. In Providence. We were only ever broken up for like a few months anyway.
―What do you mean? Like if you have a boyfriend, then where is he now? Why isn’t he at your opening?
―He’s right there. A man stood under the telephone pole, admiringly. He waved.
―But why is he… Why didn’t he…
―Because he respects me. I don’t need someone to be, like, irrational and horrible and hopeless around me. He’s supportive. He understands my art.
―But what does it mean? He turned to the man in the corner. ―What does it mean? The boyfriend smiled. He shrugged.
< Chapters 5 & 6
Chapters 9 & 10 >
TRAPDOOR /
5
―Esther!
She turned, hand on green scaffolding, looking for the source. ―Oh… Hi?
―It’s me… Matt… From, like, DC and, like…
―Oh, Matt! She let him hug her with both arms. ―How are you?
―I’m okay… I’m okay… What are you doing in New York?
―Oh, nothing. Just, like, visiting for the weekend.
―It’s Wednesday!
―Sure it is. Is it Wednesday? Sure, I must have gotten confused, I… thought it wasn’t…
―When did you think it was…
She looked at her phone, smiling. ―So, are you working, or…
―Yeah, still doing archival shit for NYU. Working the noon to nine shift. Very shitty desk work.
―Oh… Well that’s great at least. I mean, that you have a stable job and everything.
―I mean, it is fine. They give me good money, benefits and everything, but it’s shit. I’m gonna quit in the summer. Anytime now, I’m just gonna quit. I have to, it’s like… I just have to.
―What will you do?
―Oh, I don’t know. Freelance or something? Most of my friends just move stuff around three days a week for a living.
―Sure. Yeah. Well, I guess I should get going. It was great to see you.
―You too! You still at the same number?
―Huh?
―From, like, that party, like… Like years ago. Do you still have the same phone number?
―Oh yeah, I should. I mean, I assume so.
―Well maybe we can get a drink sometime or something.
―Yeah, sure, like. Well I can let you know the next time I’m in the city. I mean, I’m in the city right now, but you know.
―Just hit me up whenever.
―Sure. We should catch up. Esther waved. Matt turned around as he walked into the subway. He waved.
She looked in a window. Decals of sandwiches and beer. Pancakes, rolls of bread. Lettuce and stickers half peeled off and neon signage for beer. She unlocked the door, swung it open and ran up the stairs into Emily’s apartment. ―Oh, startled to see the tenant, sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open. ―Hi.
―Hi.
―Why aren’t you at work?
―I called in sick. I couldn’t sleep last night. You on that date with that guy and not answering my texts. Like what the fuck.
―I’m sorry.
―You come home at like four a.m. then get out of bed at seven. Like, if you’re going to stay here with me, you can’t do shit like that. I have a schedule and job and stuff, I don’t just want to sit around and make sure you’re not, like, getting raped or in some fugue state drowning in the river or something.
―I’m sorry. I know.
Emily closed her laptop. ―What were you even doing?
―I just went for a walk. I needed to go for a walk. It’s nice out.
―I mean last night.
―It was a weird night.
―Did something happen? Are you okay?
―I’m fine. Just, the guy I met up with was all fucked up. He was really nice and seemed smart and stuff, and we talked for hours and I just felt really comfortable with him, but I know I shouldn’t have gone home with him, and…
―Oh, god. Why would you do that? Someone you met on your phone?
―It was fine. Why shouldn’t I have? That wasn’t the problem, but like, he couldn’t keep it up. And then he got all emotional and annoying, but I didn’t want to just leave him alone.
―Sounds like a winner.
―I know. It was stupid. Like, but I… It’s fine.
―Can you show me a picture of him?
―I don’t see why that really matters. It doesn’t even, like, count as sex if nobody comes. It was just some stupid thing. I don’t even know if we’ll ever talk again.
―Just show me a picture.
―He looks better in real life. He has, like. His hair is weird. It’s not long enough. He looks kind of like a girl here.
―Oh god.
―What?
―God. Tyler?
―What? You know him?
―Oh fuck, come on.
―What? What are you talking about.
―My roommate freshman year dated this guy. He was still in high school and then he moved out here and got all entangled in my life and shit.
―What?
Emily took out her phone. She looked at it and handed it to Esther. ―This Tyler?
―I mean. Yeah, but… But I don’t understand. You didn’t come up as mutual friends or anything, I would’ve asked you.
―I haven’t seen him in years. As soon as he got here, he acted all fucked. Like I’d run into him randomly crying on the street. He’d get in arguments with people over nothing. He was always wasted. Him and Sarah hardly even went out together. She said he valued his independence, but he’d call her all the time and they’d fight for hours. I don’t even understand why they were dating.
―But that was, like… How long ago was that?
―Like, I mean forever ago. Like seven, eight years. They broke up pretty soon after that. I mean, it’s fine, but I don’t know. Whatever, I don’t care. But tread lightly. I don’t want another friend being a receptacle to his bullshit.
―So is he lying about being bipolar and stuff?
―I don’t know anything about him being bipolar, but I wouldn’t put it past him. That impotence thing is not going to get any better, though, by the way. Like what did he tell you, he liked you so much you made him nervous?
―Shit…
―Yeah.
―He talked like he knew me. We talked about our childhoods and stuff. I told him about my disorder. My aberrations. And he, like, seemed to understand what it was to feel falling apart. We both talked about being really far away from certainty and everyone else and stuff.
―He’s not like you. He’s not, like, talented or creative. He’s just glib. He’s a talker and a leech. I don’t know, I mean. He’d go on these long rants about how nothing mattered and how he felt marginalized. He said he didn’t have to make anything to prove it was art, that just by living like that superficial critical idiotic way was enough. And that was before he even really got into drugs.
―You’re just fucking with me. He does, like. He said he makes stuff and stuff. Of course he’s a little unbalanced, but he’s still generally just trying to make it like any of us. He lives alone, his apartment was so intricately put together. You can’t say he’s an idiot if you’d spent time with him and, like, saw him. That’s unfair.
―You do whatever you want to do. God, he had all these stories of his darkness, his sadness. All these plans to write something or record something or leave something behind, some legacy. He used to talk to Sarah about killing himself all the time, but he was full of shit.
―Yesterday he talked about how he never wants to die.
―Of course he never wants to die. People like that live in constant fear that they’ll stop being able to hold an audience. That their little thoughts and observations and quips will go unnoticed, that they offer so much to the world someday they’ll be, like, celebrity.
―I don’t really know him.
―Neither do I, to be honest.
―I think you’re being unfair.
―Maybe, like. Come on. Everything’s unfair. Your staying out all night and getting up at the crack of dawn, figuring you can just come back to my apartment and sleep till I get home so that I can cook dinner and we can chit chat about your stupid fag no dick Tyler. Then I’ve got Megan calling me up about her problems, like she’s all afraid that her career is going down the toilet because nobody commented on her little essay about how ISIS is recruiting women through sex positivism or some retarded thing like that. What am I supposed to do with all of you?
―Which one is Megan again?
―You’ve met her a thousand times. You’ll see her next weekend. She’s having a birthday party at Myrtle Social Club. I had to tell her how great and perfect and underappreciated she was. That’s the only reason she ever wants to talk anyway. Sex positive jihad? What the fuck is she talking about?
―That by associating sex slavery with sex work, women who choose to submit to that, to be committed to a higher religious cause and by controlling their bodies that they, like, they’re offering something they can’t get in the West? Like aspiration and politics and sex all aligned? It’s a little misguided, but I kind of enjoyed the tenacity of the argument.
―When did you read that shit?
―I had to look at my phone on the bridge. To ground myself. I walked across the bridge and back. It was a very quiet morning and I couldn’t stop feeling like I was going to blow off. Like I felt like I was going to be lifted and blown off like a piece of paper.
―I don’t have time for this.
―I felt like paper, or a grain of something. I kept having to touch the fence to know there was something separating me from the highway, the water, but I was sure I was about to jump, even if I was clinging to the thing. It was really surreal. I kept feeling my phone vibrate and I knew it was my mom going to say something about how I haven’t gone back to school, and I thought my body would just react, that I’d… Like a trapdoor would open below me and I’d just twist into the wind like a ribbon and be gone. But nobody was calling.
―I said I don’t have time for this.
―But you took the day off. Listen, I’m sorry. I’m very tired. Maybe I should just go to sleep.
They watched Emily’s phone start vibrating. It inched across the table. ―Megan’s calling again. I fucking hate everyone.
―Me too.
―You don’t hate Tyler.
―Maybe just let me get there on my own. I’m sure in some part of my lifetime, I already do. Like, by then we’re all a million miles away.
6
―I just don’t understand why you don’t bring it around anymore, Tyler said. He pushed a pool of condensation around on the table. ―You used to take pictures all the time. I had this vision of you documenting the lives of your friends and stuff, like in fifty years you’d have this huge catalog of material from this period. How else are we going to remember it?
―I have no desire to do that. What do you want me to be, like, always taking my camera out and stuff?
―I just assumed you always would. How would there be, like, footage of bands and people before they got famous if nobody had taken the initiative?
―So what you really want is for me to be taking lots of pictures of you because you think in fifty years you’ll have become, like, famous and there’ll be demand for it?
―You could be famous too. You’d be the one who, like, captured my death or whatever. The exclusive pictures of my OD, hidden away in the archives somewhere. It’s very, like, I don’t know… It could make for a great retrospective.
―That doesn’t mean anything anymore. Nobody has AIDS or is living on the street that we know. This isn’t, like, 1988.
―Imagine if it was.
―One of our friends, if not several of them would have AIDS.
―It would be kind of great wouldn’t it? Like, like you’d live in some squat in the East Village and go out to the Meatpacking to fuck some twinks or something and then go catch a Sonic Youth show and your parents would hate you and stuff.
―We have a lot of materials and documents from that time at work. It seemed really depressing. I don’t really think I would’ve fit in.
―They’d refuse to come to the hospital when you got AIDS. Your brother would, like, smack you around and say you ruined the family.
―What about you?
―I’d be all really sorrowful at your bedside. I would miss you, man.
―Why would I be gay?
―Dude, it’s okay. I think it’s cool you were gay in the eighties. Maybe that’s why you’re so skinny and stuff now. You’re still on psychic recovery from the disease.
―Why wouldn’t you have AIDS?
―I’d be too busy, like, learning from your example. I’d be in a relationship with some woman. An artist, like, much more intelligent and successful than me. I’d hang on her and be her muse and, like, live in her loft and she’d tie me off all day. I couldn’t be distracted by the scene. The scene would never have me. Look at me, I don’t have your beautiful blonde hair.
―Can you explain to me what’s up with your hair by the way?
―I don’t want to right now. Should we buy horse?
―No… Jesus.
―What about Berlin? Why don’t we go back to Berlin this summer? You could bring your camera.
―What would I take pictures of?
―I don’t know. Anything. I want to become very engaged with the world. To have a deep personal dialogue with life and places and leave an impression on people that justifies my artistic shortcomings. Like a nightlife personality.
―I don’t think I can afford to go away this summer.
―Otherwise we’re just a couple of dilettantes. Two washed up fucks hanging out at a stupid bar in Brooklyn trying to recapture the idea of why we moved here in the first place.
―Where have you been lately anyway? I’ve been texting you.
―Just, around. You know when you get a bit fixated on something and start to neglect everything else. I’ve been fixated.
―It’s some girl?
―Yeah… You should call them women, by the way. We’re adults now. We need to call them women.
―Do you want another drink?
―I brought some bottles in my bag. Picked em up at Warner’s on the way over. I’ll still never buy more than just the first drink here, they never know.
Matt pried the bottle cap off with a lighter under the table. ―I just want to be in love with a girl.
―No, that’s what I want. A woman. That and I want you to take pictures of me after I OD in Berlin.
―Imagine Berlin in the nineties.
―You’d get AIDS having sex in the back of Berghain. There was the chime of the door opening, and from across the room Tyler could see Esther enter behind two other women. ―Hold that thought. Remind me I have something I want to talk to you about… About my cat. He walked over to the bar and put his hand on Esther’s shoulder for longer than a tap but shorter than what could be called resting it there. ―Hiya.
―Oh, hi! What are you doing here?
―Just having a drink. Hi, Emily.
―Hi. Emily walked away, dragging Megan by the arm.
Tyler looked back to Esther. ―How’ve you been? I miss you.
―I’m good.
―Why didn’t you want to hang out last night?
―Everything’s been kind of crazy. They found my driftwood in this storage facility. I guess it got moved ’cause of some cleaning project or something over break, and now I’m, like, trying to find out a way if I can get back into classes this semester.
―Oh wow. Damn… That’s great.
―It really is. And I think they might let me come in late to this critique or something, and if I pay tuition at least I can get access to my studio back through the semester. So yeah, I’ve been pretty busy. How are you?
―Fine, fine. I actually am about to dissociate. I feel. I think I can feel it’s just about to kick in, I need to get out of here. Do you want to come over?
―Right now? He stood there, looking in the direction of her face, glancing curtly at the wall beside her, then back. ―I’m sorry, I can’t. I just got here.
―Are you sure? I’m a little afraid of this. Maybe we should take something and talk? I think I have some extra tabs if you want.
―Yeah, I don’t really know if that would be a great idea with my, like… I mean, like, with where I am right now. I’m feeling a bit unhinged by all this new running around and everything. The other day I heard a very loud humming, like a roaring sound, and I was walking around normally through the park, and out from behind a building I saw a plane flying so low like it was going to crash into everything, right above the trees and nobody else seemed to hear or react. I ducked for a second and then looked up and it was gone. Everyone was moving around normally on the street. I didn’t know what to do.
―Right, I mean, like, damn. Of course. Yeah, I mean. Wow. You said that in the way I would want to say it if it happened to me. You should… I mean, if you want to come over later. I really like you. I should probably get going.
―Why don’t you stay.
―But why don’t you? You’re going back to Providence and all. Why don’t you stay?
―I don’t think you really understand. I’ve put a lot into this program. I just need to finish this last semester. There’s money tied up in this. And, like, besides it’s been instrumental. It’s, like, I can feel that the work and resources. It feels like the beginning of something. Like, I need to think of my career.
―But I feel like we’re just starting to get to do this. To get to know each other and stuff. Can’t you just be like me? Like a life rot? I thought you wanted to walk dogs. We could just… People like us, we’re charming. We could just be that couple. You could make your art. I could be a part of that.
―Why are you talking like that? We’ve only known each other a couple weeks.
―But I feel really excited about this. I feel like this is a very powerful thing. I don’t want to say I’m obsessed with you, but I feel like I can’t stop thinking of you. This is all I’ve wanted.
―I like you. I’m not just saying stuff. I got out of a very serious relationship recently. I’ve been spiralling and allowing myself to be destructive because I didn’t know what else to do, but meeting you helped me. You, like. I like the way you don’t care and just say stuff how you think it. You’re funny and weird, and I think things are getting better between us in… She put her hands up. She let them drop. She was implying sex but didn’t want to say it. ―But you also make me feel like I don’t want to be rotten, you know? Does that make sense? I’ve spent my whole life trying to escape from that mindset. I just, you know I have to do this. I don’t know why you’d try to talk me out of it. I’m trying to be happy.
―But be real! Neither one of us can ever be happy. You can’t escape from that, you embrace it! It’s not in the cards, it’s just the way we are. You need to drive that as far as you can. If you can be able to accept being broken, then you can use it to your advantage. You test yourself, you test others with your ugliness. You have to be willing to indulge in whatever thoughts or feelings or impulses because of the possibilities of just keeping going. I just want a girl who is, like, able to drive down that darkness with me. Just be a part of it, control it. I know you, you can’t be happy!
―But you don’t know that about me! She was laughing. ―That doesn’t have to be true about me. I feel like what you. Don’t you think what you just said is, like… horribly unfair?
―I guess I’ll leave now.
―You don’t have to go. My friends are right there.
―But I’m about to dissociate.
―You can visit me in Providence. I can come here. We can talk and hang out and see where this goes.
―It’s hard for me to imagine getting to Providence. You’ll be all busy with your stuff and all your friends and things. I’ll be all depressed and feel inferior to you and ignored. I just want to hang out with you and watch TV and sleep all day. Let’s get high.
―I don’t like you right now. I think we could be okay if you just act more rationally about this. It’s like a quick bus ride I do it all the time. I know it’s hard, like, I know it’s stupid to say be rational but…
―It is stupid. You aren’t even capable of being rational. Why would you put that on me?
―I’m much better when I’m being productive. I’m excited to go back to school.
―Well let me know if you want to come over later.
―Let’s have a real conversation, okay? When you’re not all fucked up. I don’t want you all dissociated or whatever.
―Yeah, okay. Whatever. I feel hurt by you. I really like you a lot. Bye.
―Bye.
―Bye.
Esther walked to the table. Emily looking at her phone, Megan was alight, saying, ―I want to get it framed or something. It’s not often that a fortune cookie really seems to get things so right. I take it as a, like, omen of things to come. I want to bring it to my parents on Easter and be like, see! Here’s my justification for staying the path. It’s a sign.
―What does it say again, Esther leaned in, trying to see the paper held up in front of Megan’s face.
―It says, you have a deep appreciation for offbeat cultures.
―Who else is coming to this thing, Emily said.
―Well who did you invite?
―Why would I invite people? It’s your birthday, you were the one who invited me.
―But I meant I wanted you to set this thing up. You know I had a deadline this week.
―You wrote about the relationship between the Malaysian Airlines flight disappearance and the how the proposed alternative flight path looks like a dick on account of some, like, what, you think the Illuminati is too patriarchal?
―The New World Order. The Illuminati is actually mostly women.
―What do you guys want to drink, Esther said.
―Can you get me a very dirty martini?
―Make mine an extremely dirty martini.
Esther stood up. She heard, ―Esther!
―Oh. Hi.
―What are the chances? Matt tried to hug her. ―Meeting you like this twice in two weeks.
―Was it only two weeks ago?
―It must have been seventeen days, actually. February 11. I remember because the following weekend was Valentine’s Day… And that was the Wednesday before Valentine’s Day.
―Oh. Yeah.
―So what are you doing back in town again so soon? Why didn’t you call?
―Just visiting friends. It’s my friend’s birthday actually. They’re right over there. I’m going to get some drinks.
―Oh wait, but don’t do that. We’ve got drinks. Or, I mean, my friend says to never order more than one drink here because you can just bring in your own. He has a bag full of these. He tilted his beer up to her face. Esther recoiled. ―Anyway, he’s… Where did he get to…
―That’s okay, that’s okay we don’t want beers anyway, don’t worry about it.
―No come on, just have one. On me. I don’t know where the hell he went. He was acting all weird and stuff.
―It’s fine.
―No, no, it doesn’t matter, hold on. Where are you guys sitting? Over there? Taking her by the arm, Matt pulled a seat to the table, unloading three beers. ―What’s up, ladies?
―Uh, this is, um, Matt. We met in high school.
―You guys went to high school together?
―No, that’s just the time period in our lives when we met.
―Any martinis in that bag, Matt?
―No, no, just… This one’s on me. Then I’ll get out of your hair, I’m just waiting for my friend to show. Esther and I go way back. Keep, like, slipping in and out of each other’s lives. Kind of crazy… Who’s birthday is it then?
―Excuse me. A man in a black t-shirt was standing over them
―Oh hello, Matt grinned. ―What seems to be the problem?
―Did you bring those beers into my bar?
―No, no, of course not. We got these at the bar. You must’ve just missed it, you know it’s so busy and all. I could hardly get the bartender’s attention to order.
―Well it’d be a pretty difficult maneuver considering we don’t serve Modelo here.
―Oh, but… Well, I mean. I didn’t do it. My friend brought these in.
―Um, excuse me, Megan said. ―But we don’t really know this guy? And I’m not sure we should be held accountable for the ignorance of his crimes? It’s my birthday?
―Let’s go, buddy.
―No, but I swear. I mean, like, just wait a second, where’s Tyler, he’ll explain it’s not a big deal. We used to do this all the time back in the old Myrtle. I just ran into my friend Esther here. Esther can explain it. She knows… He was being escorted, then dragged away, Esther averting her eyes, embarrassed. ―Esther, just tell him what I told you. Esther! Esther…
< Chapters 3 & 4
Chapters 7 & 8 >
TRAPDOOR /
3
―It was weird. It was at track practice I guess. In high school. This girl I thought I was in love with had had me over to her house, like, the day before, and I spent the night, but she slept with this other guy. Anyway, I was running, listening to a CD she’d burned me, and I realized I was suffering too. Like the singer, I realized I’d been depressed for many, many years. Probably since I was a small child. I’d never felt comfortable, or like, safe in the world? I wanted to make it so I was like the singer, or something. That’s what got me into art. But I was afraid there was nothing I could do that would bring me joy. I could feel the endlessness of it even then. No past, no future. And it was always going to be that way. It had always been that way. We did hook up eventually, me and that girl. But that was forever ago, and it was too late to change anything… What about you?
Esther’s legs were kind of leaning in the direction of the Tyler’s. She readjusted them. ―It was never depression so much as I felt like I would start to hallucinate and I’d, like, ground myself in drawing or something. Like I’d draw until reality started to set back in. I didn’t tell anyone about this for a really long time. This sounds stupid. I guess I still haven’t described it very well.
―In a book I was reading for, like, English class, like at the same time, there was a scene where the characters peed in a rice paddy in Vietnam and they said there were bacterias that could swim up the pee stream and give you a disease in your dick. That had a profound effect on me.
―Naturally.
―I still can’t pee in rice paddies.
Esther understood that this required, bare minimum, a smile. She paused. ―So how exactly do you know Matt?
―Wait, how do you know I know Matt?
―He showed up as one of our mutual friends. I never meet up with someone from, like, a dating app without some mutual friend. It’s too unnerving. It’s unnerving enough.
―That seems the opposite of most people.
―Is it? I mean, I don’t know. I’m just trying to not get raped and murdered at the prospect of, like… meeting someone.
―It might be worth it, though… Like if the person is really cool… Tyler grinned.
―Did you go to college with him or something?
―Sure I did. We met living in the same apartment building though. We never had class together or anything. We both studied abroad in Berlin.
―That must have been fun.
―It was. I mean, I loved it. We lived in this weird ass Eastern Bloc style complex. It was cool. I think we both preferred New York, though. Matt kept thinking everyone was anti-Semitic and, like, too homogenous or something. He made it difficult to do stuff. I mean I have love for him. I’m sorry I’ve immediately started shittalking my friend.
―Seems like the only real way to talk about friends…
―How do you know him?
―Oh, well, I don’t really. It’s a long story. We met, like, in high school and have some mutual friends and stuff. But we’re not really, like, she made quotes with her fingers, ―friends per se.
―Oh. Word.
―Do you want another drink?
―Okay, sure, Tyler said. Neither of them got up. ―So how long are you going to be in the city?
―I guess I don’t know. Classes started last week, but I haven’t felt any pressure to go back. To be honest, I’m not sure I even paid the bursar… I haven’t checked my email or anything.
―Damn… So you’re not going back?
―I probably got bumped from, like, my studio and critiques and stuff. I’m probably in trouble, I guess.
―What about… What are you majoring in again?
―I’m getting my MFA. In sculpture… And I had all this driftwood in the studio. I had, like, amassed all this driftwood. I’d gone down to the beaches for weeks looking for the perfect pieces and stuff. And, like, I have this big installation thing I’m supposed to have completed by the spring, but I don’t know what happened to it. I went just to check in like a month ago, and it was all gone, and everyone was on vacation and stuff. Nobody could track it down. Like hundreds of pounds, dozens of pieces of driftwood, and I had a bit of a breakdown and came here, and I’ve been here.
―Jesus.
―It’s okay. I’m not sure I really wanted to do that whole thing anyway. It might be easier to just become a dog walker or something.
―I have a cat.
―What’s he like?
―She’s… just a cat… He looked at the table, then up, and directly at Esther, ―Where are you staying?
―My friend was out of town for Christmas, and I’ve got a key to her place so that’s where I went after that whole RISD thing. She came back and hasn’t told me to leave. We’re sharing her bed.
―Oh where’s she live at?
―Not far from here.
―Can you tell me more about the thing where you have a break from reality and you’d draw?
―I don’t think so…
―Do you want another drink? They remained seated, grinning.
4
―It’s not going to work I guess, Tyler said, sitting up, then lying back down, looking at the wall. Then sitting back up and looking at Esther. The whole gesture taking about a thirty seconds.
―It’s okay.
―It’s because I like you too much, I think. I’m nervous. Sometimes it happens that my hands, like, get numb. And then I can’t focus because I want to be happy or something, but I know that’s not actually it. I’m just nervous.
―What are you…
―You should see me with women I don’t care about. I’m very good with them. Like a real performer.
―I said it’s okay.
―It’s just that I think you’re cool. We have a lot in common. Maybe I’m afraid of what you’ll say to Matt.
―I don’t really foresee myself saying anything to Matt. I don’t really, like. We don’t talk. He doesn’t even know I’m in the city.
―I recently got out of a relationship and I’m very, like, chopped and screwed from it, you know?
―I did too.
―She told me she thought that I was crazy and that she didn’t want to get involved with me because she thought I was mentally ill or something.
―If she didn’t want to get involved with you then how was it a relationship?
―Never mind. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You wouldn’t get it. I feel so horrible. I feel like I shouldn’t say anything right now.
―It’s okay. It really is, I’m not kidding. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t feel like I liked you too.
―I’m in a real place, you know?
―I know. Esther made a movement toward a glass of water, and Tyler got up, drank from it, went to the bathroom and came back with the glass, which he handed to her.
―What happened with your boyfriend?
―He didn’t really make an effort. It’s like he was just there, but he wasn’t really present.
―I looked up your art and stuff online. I saw your website. I really liked everything. It was exciting. Like, really raw and physical and stuff, not like how a lot of things are just, like, photo printed things onto panels and stuff right now.
―How’d you know my last name?
―I just figured it out… I… The way things are and stuff now… Nothing is that hard to figure out.
―Hm.
―Did your boyfriend ever, like, was he ever like this? I feel like I can’t see anything right now. My hands are like tingling.
―I really don’t want to talk about that, if that’s okay… They sat in silence. ―Are you okay?
―Huh.
―You seem like you’re thinking you want me to leave.
―You should probably leave.
―Are you serious?
―I’m not going to be able to sleep or talk or anything. I have problems, mental illness or whatever, I feel like. I’m, like, bipolar. I’m shutting down right now and will not be able to communicate.
―I can’t believe this.
―You can spend the night if you want… She looked at him. ―You should probably leave though.
―This is ridiculous, you know, because I really liked hanging out with you. Esther stood up and put on her underwear. She put on her shirt. ―You’re very candid and opened up a lot and I’m sorry if we got too drunk or whatever, but it really doesn’t bother me, like. I knew we shouldn’t have had sex.
―Well. Oh well.
―Are you always like this?
―Yes… I really like you. Maybe you shouldn’t go.
―Well which is it?
―Well I just… I did this exact same thing once but it was with a girl I didn’t like so it was very natural for me to just do it again, since I’d already successfully had someone leave this way. And when I told her I was fucked up or whatever, that seemed to make her like me more, but I really do like you, so I don’t know if I make you leave, like if we won’t talk anymore.
―So you want me to stay?
―I think you should do whatever you want to do in this situation. I’m sorry.
―Are you going to really be mad at me no matter what I do? Because I kind of want to leave now… I’m sorry.
―So you’re never going to talk to me again.
―But I do like you. And I do want to talk to you again, and hang out with you again.
―Okay.
―But maybe I should go. I mean, this is really weird. I don’t know you.
―Fine. Tyler looked at the wall. ―I feel like I know you.
―No you don’t. Don’t just say stuff to manipulate me.
―Esther, no. Listen… Listen, Esther. I feel like even just your name. It’s so easy just to even say your name. I feel like my whole life has been leading up to just saying Esther.
―You’re being dramatic.
―Please just stay.
―I’m not going to stay over. We can sit, though, if you put your clothes on. We can talk or watch TV or something.
―I feel like I can, like. I feel okay now though.
―I don’t want that anymore.
―Oh.
―Right now.
―Yeah.
She sat down while he looked for a t-shirt. ―What TV do you like to watch?
―You know what, you’re really nice.
< Chapters 1 & 2
Chapters 5 & 6 >
TRAPDOOR /
1
―As a teenager I would often have these grand thoughts, like, that people would discover my notebooks and pull me out of the obscurity I’d left in death. Suicide seemed like a very normal thing to think about. Like for the better part of a year I assumed I’d just get up one day and do it. But I didn’t have any notebooks. I had a lot of unfinished little ideas for things typed up in Word documents. But they didn’t amount to anything. Not even, like, a clear direction of thought. Nobody would know any substantial thing about the person who’d written that stuff. Other than that he was very scared. Very scared and emotional about every aspect of living and increasingly obsessed with women.
―And where exactly do I fit into that? Katie was sitting on the edge of the bed. She’d stopped looking at Tyler through his speech, as he was making himself more comfortable, propped up on her pillows, taking them out from under the duvet and repositioning them around his back. For a moment they sat in silence. The sounds of her apartment, the people outside the closed door. The music. Because there was a party going on, Tyler remembered.
―Huh?
Katie stood up. ―Why are you telling me this?
―Because, listen Katie, I am probably becoming obsessed with you. To be honest, I am, like, almost definitely not crazy. I really don’t even want to die anymore. If I can avoid it, I don’t ever want to die, but I’ve fashioned myself to act in a way that will make it seem like I am crazy. You know, in hopes that you’re the type of woman who responds to that stuff.
―But see, like, you have to understand that impulse is extremely unsound. Like that makes you seem to me that you are crazy. I feel on edge around you.
―Yeah I mean, I get it. But it’s not like that. I’m so normal that all I want to do is watch TV and be normal. Love a woman. Take a walk. Everything else is, like, an act.
―I don’t really care what it is. She wasn’t looking at him. ―It’s… It’s a distressing attitude to have to engage with.
―Like I said. It’s an image thing. When I was a kid and people would say I acted weird or something, I would just act weirder. Or dress weird. I would try to make myself look ugly to see if a girl could still be interested in me, and if they were, it’s a small personal victory. Like as a way to feel more in control. It’s both a sabotage and, like, the ultimate exercise in actualization.
―I feel really uncomfortable you’re telling me this shit right now. My friends are out there. Like, they came over to my house. I’m supposed to be being a host.
―You…
―You think I don’t have stuff going on? I don’t have my own people in my life who act this way and stuff?
―I guess… I really didn’t think about it. It takes so much for a day to be even coherent right now that I really almost never get a chance to think about how other people must be feeling. Is everyone fucked like me?
―I thought you said you were normal.
―That’s very good. He was laughing. ―See, we have great banter. I’m more attracted to you than ever.
―Tyler! He stopped trying to kiss her. ―Okay well. No. Just, you can stay over if you really need to, but I don’t think maybe you should in the future… If you agree…
―How could I not agree? I just want us to communicate about everything. This might be the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had!
―What we… You… Stop it. Two nights of doing blow and hooking up in a bathroom is not a relationship.
―I will remember you fondly, I can’t even imagine life without these memories. We’re, like… it’s a word… Kismet. He opened her bedroom door but continued to look at her, walking backward, through people. Walking backward and saying, ―My new haircut makes me look like a girl on purpose, by the way. That was the point, it’s like what I was describing earlier. Like, I mean… Never mind. But if you ever want to get a drink sometime…
2
On the subway, Matt watched Tyler sit down, get up and move to another seat. Matt leaned against the doors watching his friend fidget with a tote bag, then sat down next to him. Matt said, ―Do you ever feel like everywhere you go you run into the same people?
―There is an increasing feeling like that isn’t there. It wasn’t always this way.
The subway stopped. It started. ―Maybe we’ve lived here too long.
―We’ve definitely lived here too long. We should leave. Go on a trip. Lately I can’t stop thinking about the Myrtle Social Club. How they opened it again after all these years, what are they trying to prove? What could it possibly be like in there?
―From what I’ve heard, it’s all cleaned up. Like, has a real bar or something. They’ve probably got those, like, light bulbs that look pre-industrial or whatever. With all the filaments showing.
―Is filaments the right word?
―Almost definitely.
Tyler looked at his phone. He thought for a second maybe there would be reception, but there was no reception. ―It was like, riding the bus into the city. Like I had a girlfriend here in high school and anytime you wanted to go out there was always some show or something. Someone always had drugs, you could buy tall boys from Warner’s for like a dollar twenty-five and go and do whatever. It felt endless.
―You can’t get shit at Warner’s anymore. There’s no reason to even be in the neighborhood. Everyone moved. Everything moved around. Have you been in there? A six pack’s like nine bucks, and I’ll bet you anything you can’t bring your own into Myrtle anymore. Who do you think even plays there now?
Tyler was turning his phone on and off. The screen of it. He dropped it in the tote bag. ―They said they can’t have live music there anymore. It’s probably like a person with a laptop. Or an online jukebox. Or metal. Why do all the bars play metal?
―I just want my son to grow up in a world where there’s a city where he can go to cut his teeth on some gritty scene and run into some cool girl and end up like Lee Ranaldo or something.
―And one time. I saw two rats fight outside there once. They were giant, like the size of small dogs. They had big furry tails and whiskers and were howling. You couldn’t really see them.
―Are you sure they weren’t cats?
―No… And they sat in silence. Stops went by the window. A man sang Michael Jackson and walked away. A person wearing a robe sat down. ―It feels like wherever you go, it’s always the same people.
―All the parties, the openings. Anything you have to RSVP to. And everyone, everyone, it’s them! That guy with the long hair and the tattoo on the steps of that building nobody used to know what it was called. Like on Bowery, but now they’re selling it or whatever.
―I think his name’s Tommy Suicide.
Matt tried to laugh. ―Every time I go out I think I’m going to see my best friend from middle school’s little sister who I made out with after running into her at a bar three months ago.
―Damn.
—And I do! I see her all the time, it's inescapable! The train made a stop. A woman of indeterminate age got on and sat next to them. Matt saw her smile, then roll her eyes before the train started to move again. ―And whenever I’m at this station I think about the first time I came out here. To see… You know, like, Esther?
―I don’t think so.
―Her name was Esther. No, I mean, I’m sure it still is. Maybe if it was a different name it wouldn’t have, like, fucked me up so much, but it just. There’s the story of Purim and whatever. She’s Jewish and nobody knows. It’s a secret, and she becomes the queen of Persia and stops, like, a Holocaust-type thing. Like this guy wants to kill all the Jews and Esther, this character in the bible, stops that from happening.
―Okay. Tyler was looking at his phone.
―Anyway, so I met this girl named Esther. We were like sixteen on a trip for Jewish youth to, like, lobby for environmental issues in Washington or something like that. She’d gone to camp with a friend of mine and was, like, really hip before anyone I knew was. We held hands in the Holocaust Museum and it seemed like we were going to meet up in the hotel everyone was staying at, like to hook up later that night. But then she said she couldn’t risk it with the chance that she’d get caught or whatever. She said maybe the next night, but then the next night came and she was giving me the same shit, so I was like, Jesus I can’t hold out, and so I made out with her best friend. So I screwed myself. She was pissed at me, and we didn’t stay in touch even though I thought she was really cool and more attractive and intelligent, you know, than the other girl. But then I’m on the subway two years later, my freshman year of college, and she just comes out of nowhere and touches my arm. She says she’s staying in Brooklyn for a while. So she invites me over on a Tuesday night, right around the corner from here. Like, right off that last stop, and we get all drunk and she’s really flirty, but I’m with this girl at the time and it just feels like such a lost cause, and on the train home, just like this… I just know I blew it years ago because of her stupid friend, and now she’s got a boyfriend she loves and is getting her MFA at RISD.
―What’s her MFA in?
―Man, I don’t know… Like, she does, like, multimedia stuff? Who cares, she has a pretty cool website. You should check it out. God… We could’ve been together. Esther… The woman laughed. She was wearing a yellow blazer and yellow jeans. Tyler looked up and laughed. ―I’m sorry?
―No, no. It’s true. It’s all so true. You really did fuck it up. She probably doesn’t even think about you.
―Really, though? At all? Sometimes she likes my stuff on Facebook.
―To her, you’re just another guy who didn’t think she mattered much. Who couldn’t have the time to prioritize what made her seem special to you. You didn’t want to understand her. Your biggest concern was just to be with someone. Anyone. You didn’t care who, it’s not like you tried any harder for what you saw in her. To try and see things like she did.
―But I’m not just another guy. Shit. I love the same things she does. I like art. I’ve kept up with her life. She affected me. Like ever since we were kids. And what if I hadn’t been with that girl? When we were at her place, she did this thing where you sit in a chair and tilt your head back and you, like, pour vodka and orange juice into the mouth. She called it a haircut.
―I wasn’t there. I can’t say.
―And we played this game called Roxane. To the Police song. We…
―I know the game.
―But this was in the days of Four Loko. Remember Four Loko?
―I still have some in my parents’ garage fridge that I salvaged when they announced it was illegal or whatever, Tyler said.
―Every time I’m at that stop, walking around, I hope I’ll see her. Like fifty times I think I see the back of her head. I think maybe she’s come back.
―She’s in Rhode Island. She’s not thinking about you.
―Ten years…
―You’re acting like an idiot. I mean, if you want a woman’s perspective…
―I have something I want to say. Tyler interrupted. He looked at the floor, at the woman. This didn’t concern her. He looked at Matt.
―Well what is it?
―Never mind… Something about my cat… I’ll say it later.
Chapters 3 & 4 >