FAÇADE, 10
quick to sleep before I say, “Sure. Everything’s fine.” My eyes want to lock shut as I’m ravenous for sleep, but all I can do is quiver.
Long after the redheaded jogger leaves, I rush downstairs and barge into Ray’s room without knocking. The room is a mess on the side closest to the door and immaculate around his desk, where a Magnum lies next to a photograph. At the sound of the door slamming shut, Ray snatches both items and shoves them into the desk.
“Sure, man,” he says, “come right in.”
I plop on the recliner next to his desk. “It’s my house,” I remind him.
He says, “Guess you’re right.” There’s something distant about his tone.
“You okay?”
Ray stays silent. He withdraws the photograph from his desk and stares. It’s a picture of him and his ex-wife Emily. Smart, beautiful in away only the word beautiful can describe, and too selfish to stick around a man with baggage, as she so eloquently told him before she disappeared. “I was thinking about what you said at the park,” he almost whispers.
“Man, don’t listen to me. I’ve just been in a real funk lately.”
“I think you’re right, though. She waited around for a few months, but Emily just fucking took off. After Mom passed. And I can’t stop wondering why.”
“Whatever happened to her?” I ask.
“She just wanted to get away, I think,” Ray responds. “Maybe she was learning too much about me.”
“Forget her then. If someone really wanted to marry you, then they would’ve stayed with you no matter what, you know? You can’t let some bitch get the best of you.”
Long after the redheaded jogger leaves, I rush downstairs and barge into Ray’s room without knocking. The room is a mess on the side closest to the door and immaculate around his desk, where a Magnum lies next to a photograph. At the sound of the door slamming shut, Ray snatches both items and shoves them into the desk.
“Sure, man,” he says, “come right in.”
I plop on the recliner next to his desk. “It’s my house,” I remind him.
He says, “Guess you’re right.” There’s something distant about his tone.
“You okay?”
Ray stays silent. He withdraws the photograph from his desk and stares. It’s a picture of him and his ex-wife Emily. Smart, beautiful in away only the word beautiful can describe, and too selfish to stick around a man with baggage, as she so eloquently told him before she disappeared. “I was thinking about what you said at the park,” he almost whispers.
“Man, don’t listen to me. I’ve just been in a real funk lately.”
“I think you’re right, though. She waited around for a few months, but Emily just fucking took off. After Mom passed. And I can’t stop wondering why.”
“Whatever happened to her?” I ask.
“She just wanted to get away, I think,” Ray responds. “Maybe she was learning too much about me.”
“Forget her then. If someone really wanted to marry you, then they would’ve stayed with you no matter what, you know? You can’t let some bitch get the best of you.”
