DESMOND Chapter Fifteen
1953
Mary crosses her arms.
“I don't like him.”
Wendy has been setting out her dress for the evening – she and Mary are going to meet Desmond and his friend Jimmy at the Melody Room later in the evening. They are are in Wendy's apartment on Bathurst St. in downtown Toronto, Mary paying a visit during her March break from classes at McGill. The two young women have spent the past two days bouncing around from one spot to the next, exploring Wendy's adopted home, and for only a short time did Wendy even get to see Desmond, when they dropped by the Science Department of the University.
They had met in the cafeteria for the new Science building, and Desmond had been fifteen minutes late, apologizing and explaining that a meeting of his went over time. They all enjoyed a pleasant lunch, Desmond behaving his usual charming self, and Mary had seemed friendly enough at the time, but now...
“Well! Don't hold back on my account!” Wendy casts a inquiring glance towards her friend. Mary gazes cooly back at her, arms still folded.
So far having Mary visit her has been loads of fun, however Wendy is keenly aware that there's been a sort of unease between the two of them. At first she chalked it up to the new surroundings, but now she realizes that there's more to it than that.
“Was it because he was late today?” she asks. Mary shakes her head, then drops her arms and sags her shoulders.
“I'm sorry,” Mary explains, slowly twisting at the waist back and forth, palms outward at her sides. Her face betrays an anxious expression that Wendy is not used to seeing. “I don't mean it like that. He seems like a perfectly good man.” She stops still in reaction to her own words; brings a hand up to cover her chest. “I'm sure he is a good man, Wendy. I really mean that.”
Wendy smooths out her dress on her bed. She waits for Mary to say more, and when no more words come, she turns to face her friend. “But you don't like him.”
Mary frowns and looks away. “It's nothing personal.” Wendy scoffs a laugh at that, but Mary doesn't react, keeping her head turned away, a shadow darkening her face. “It's more like there's a cloud over him, somehow. Like something's following him...”
Wendy steps from the bed over to Mary, her hands on her hips.
“Do you think I wouldn't check up on the guy before getting serious with him? I've met his family and friends, gotten to know them all quite well, in fact. I know his history.”
Mary turns a skeptical eye her way but says nothing.
“Really Mary!” Wendy holds out her arms at her sides, getting exasperated, now. “You'd think a girl could get a little credit around here!”
Mary smiles and holds up a hand. “I'm sorry, dear. No offense intended.”
“Oh well, none taken, I'm sure!” Wendy whirls away and walks back to the bed, but then casts an impish grin over at her friend. “All right now, let's get ready for dinner. You'll want to look your best for your date.”
Mary groans, rolling her eyes. “You'll like Jimmy!” Wendy exclaims. “I promise.”
The small apartment fills with the shared laughter from the two young women. They both go about their readying in mutual good cheer.
And later, while they walk down Queen St. together, chatting energetically as their heels click on the freshly set pavement, the mood remains light between them. But in the back of Wendy's mind the confrontation has reinforced a sad portending that's been nagging at her since the beginning of Mary's visit: the fact that she can see the end of their friendship approaching somewhere down the road; maybe sooner than later. Wendy had hoped this wouldn't be the case - she and Mary had remained friends after the other girls had more or less drifted away – but now in her heart she knows that this is most likely the way it's going to go.
Because her life is different now; very different. And while she isn't sure what exactly she and Desmond were going to be doing with their life together – so many variables in regards to both of their respective jobs – she knows one thing for sure. She is going to marry him.
This is something she hasn't even told Mary, yet. And walking together like this, the Gladstone coming into sight, Wendy decides that she isn't going to tell Mary, after all. Let's just enjoy this time we have together, she thinks. And now she can see the two men out front of the hotel, bare outlines in the lowering dusk, but recognizable to her nonetheless. Neither of them have noticed the girls yet, being still a ways off. The Gladstone has been cut into two sections; upper floors a blazing red against the setting sun, the lower a deepening shadow from the raised tracks that cross Queen St. just past Dufferin. She can see Desmond standing right outside of the circle of a streetlamp, watching the train tracks, and his face seems to be searching for something up along the darkened edge. But there's no one up there; the tracks are bare. The expression on his face, barely readable from this distance, makes Wendy think about what Mary had said earlier, about something following him... But then she quickly gives her head a shake and banishes the thought from her mind, before calling out and raising her hand in a greeting that feels more energetic than need be.
There's a jazz quartet performing in the corner of the Melody Room, and now that everyone's finished their meals the place is starting to jump. Dinner was actually quite nice, with Mary seeming to make an extra effort to get along with Desmond – and also getting on with Jimmy quite well. For his part, Jimmy seemed to have started the night in a rather sombre frame of mind, something that had possibly drawn Mary towards him in the first place. If he'd been his usual overly gregarious self, he most likely would have turned Mary completely off. Coming across as distant is definitely out of character for Jimmy, but since then he's loosened up considerably. Of course, that may have more to do with how much he's been drinking.
And now as both couples are swaying to a mid tempo number on the dance floor, Wendy finds herself looking over at Jimmy and wondering if there had been a similar schism between the two men as she and Mary had experienced earlier. She notices Desmond also keeps looking over Jimmy's way, a slight grimace plastered across his face. Jimmy and Mary loop around each other, laughing together as Jimmy takes swigs from the beer bottle that he's holding by its' neck. The music swells and bounces across the floorboards and up the walls and the heat of the Melody room begins to rise steadily. A breeze flows in through the open windows from Queen st, barely cutting through the humid cloud from the gathered bodies on the floor. But her Desmond feels cold in her arms tonight.
“What's the matter, honey?” She leans in and gives his neck a squeeze with her arms, peering up into his face. He glances at her distractedly, then breaks into an apologetic smile.
“It's nothing, just... Stuff from work.” Even as he finishes saying this Desmond peers over her shoulder in Jimmy's direction.
The band breaks into a new song – some sort of hybrid jazz and oriental variation.The crowd seems to enjoy it, but Wendy can feel Desmond become even more tight and so she suggests that they go back to the table. He seems slightly relieved at the suggestion, and as they are about to make their way off the dance floor, Jimmy and Mary wheel across their path. Jimmy blurts out something amidst the clamour of the music and the crowd and then the couple bound their way back into the throng of people. Desmond's hand turns to stone in her own. She looks up at him and sees that he is staring intently at Jimmy, out on the dance floor. And the look on Desmond's face is one of barely concealed rage. An icy current passes through her, as though activated by contact with his hand.
Wendy shivers briefly beneath the pressure of Desmond's petrified grip. What was it that Jimmy had said? She'd barely heard...
She pulls on Desmond's hand. “C'mon Desi, lets sit down for a drink.”
He continues to lock his gaze upon his oblivious friend for a few seconds more, even drawing a few inquisitive glances from some of the other couples on the floor, before allowing himself to be led back to the table. As they settle in their chairs Wendy finds herself replaying Jimmy's declaration in her mind. Reminds me of... Something...
She glances up at Desmond. He's smiling at her in that embarrassed yet mischievous way of his, but right now Wendy's mind is fixated on recalling just what Jimmy had said less than a minute ago. And so when she spots a waiter over Desmond's shoulder she motions to him and asks Desmond to order some coffee for them both.
And while Desmond is occupied with the waiter, Wendy runs through her memory for the words that had burst rapidly forth from Jimmy's mouth. She pictures in her mind the moment when he and Mary had tumbled out of the crowd and spilled across their path. Jimmy face had been stretched out in a burst of laughter, but beneath that smile there was flash of something... Some thing like anger, or fear... Or both.
Reminds me of the-
She replays the sound of Jimmy's voice in her thoughts, listens intently to the sounds he makes, all over again. She sees his face as the words take form. Vowels and syllables develop in conjunction with the shape of his lips...
the Death's Head Woman
The music is turning over and matching itself to her memory. Desmond finishes the order and looks back to Wendy, smiles at her and then directs his attention to the dancers on the floor. Jimmy whispers in her mind while slowly spinning past in Mary's arms.
Reminds me of the Death's Head Woman in Seoul
Just then the band winds down, concluding their well received crossover piece. The MC announces a break, and so the crowd begins to loosely disperse from the heavily tread dance floor. Jimmy and Mary are sauntering casually towards their table, smiling broadly at herself and Desmond, and now all of the room's kinetic energy seems to have dissipated into the warm night air. For his part Desmond is smiling back at them, fully relaxed as he leans back in his chair. Everyone has slowed down a considerable notch, as though released by the terminus of Wendy's thoughts, the revelation of Jimmy's words through her memory.
Jimmy sidles up next to Desmond and bats him playfully on the shoulder. Both men exchange wide grins, all previous tension seeming to have just vanished. Jimmy pulls out Mary's chair for her and she settles in, smiling widely at Wendy. Then Jimmy flops into his own chair and regards Wendy from across the table. He lifts his hand in a salute.
“To the lady of our festivities!” Jimmy exhalts, reaching for an empty glass and lifting it in a toast. Both Desmond and Mary raise their glasses as well.
“This was a great idea of yours to get us all together like this,” Mary says, smiling sweetly at her. Wendy hesitates a moment. Everyone at the table is smiling at her, patiently awaiting her reaction. She fumbles for a glass and raises it to her friends.
“To beautiful changes.” Wendy says.
It's raining during the walk home, a light spray that cools the night air around the two couples as they walk, Desmond and Wendy under the umbrella he'd brought, Jimmy and Mary slow motion cavorting amidst the falling drops. No one says much as they walk; Jimmy and Mary turn and spin along the sidewalk, brushing droplets from each other's arms, while Wendy rests her head against Desmond's shoulder, her hand on his arm that holds the umbrella, both of them treading steadily onward through the rain. The sidewalk is mostly deserted at this hour, and the occasional passing car spreads soft light across the group with a steady rhythm that blends with the falling rain and the gentle sounds of their footsteps, forming a hypnotic pattern of light and sound that resonates around them; their group a moving tableau down this late night city street.
And although Wendy is taking comfort in leaning on Desmond's arm, she can sense that much of his usual physical vitality has drained from him this evening. At she doesn't believe it's the lateness of the hour that is causing this, although the hour does seem to be balancing on some sort of an unseen edge, like the calm in the centre of a hurricane. Jimmy and Mary have fallen into step alongside them, and Wendy can hear Jimmy humming a soft tune under his breath. Desmond seems to turn a little more light at the sound of this, and after a moment Jimmy begins to sing.
The words are Korean. Jimmy's voice has transformed into someone from another place and time, as he sings some ancient Korean folk song into the deep charge of the late night air. Desmond continues to walk on, as though ignoring Jimmy's impromptu musical interlude. The words tumble over the sidewalk and drift between the drops of falling rain. And for Wendy this is just more of what she'd heard earlier – a reference to what Jimmy had said to Desmond out on the steaming packed dance floor. The Death's Head Woman.
She looks up at Desmond. He keeps looking straight ahead, ignoring Jimmy's oddly sibulant voice. Desmond's face is set in an expression both frozen and collapsed. Wendy finds herself trying to glean something from Desmond's face, some clue that can help her formulate a theory in her mind. She imagines Desmond and Jimmy, together in Korea, on leave in Seoul...
Wendy stops herself. This train of thought can only lead to bad places. Korea is on the other side of the world, and for Desmond this is simply the sum of his own memories. She rests her head against his shoulder and they continue walking, and in his stillness she can read some kind of gratitude.
Later, at the entrance to Wendy's building, both couples say their goodbyes together in different postures of mutual intimacy. Jimmy and Mary are leaning against a wall and making out like teenagers; it's become obvious to Wendy that Mary has had about as much to drink as Jimmy, if not more. She'll almost certainly be regretting this in the morning.
As for Wendy and Desmond, they are standing close together, grasping each others arms lightly, their faces lightly grazing... They don't speak, just stand together in the same space, the same energy. The umbrella is now tucked under Desmond's elbow, since the rain has all but abated for the night. The air is still and clean, silent in the presage of dawn.
It's obvious that the evening's events have had a profound effect on Desmond. Wendy can feel his mind far off from her, but reaching out from that distance, trying to make contact, to be understood... And it's also pretty obvious that Mary is right about Desmond; there is something following him, a shadow over his life. But it doesn't matter. Or, more importantly, it makes him matter to her all the more. She remembers somebody once told her that she was destined for a long journey, and standing here together in the cool morning calm, it becomes all quite apparent. He is her journey.
Desmond sets his chin on Wendy's forehead. His arms fall loosely at his side, and so she wraps her arms around his waist, pulling him close. The physical lightness that he's been expressing the whole night has condensed into a deepening thickness, as he seems to collapse above her. And now she is supporting him completely by her forehead beneath his chin. But it doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt. Because knows that she can stand this way with him for as long as it takes.
The following day Wendy accompanies Mary to Union Station, to see her off, back to Montreal. Surprisingly, Mary doesn't regret the previous night at all, in fact seems quite happy about it, As the two women hug each other Mary says that she'll be sure to return again for another visit, and who knows, maybe she and Jimmy will start seeing each other on the regular. Wendy is glad to hear this, and watching Mary step onto the train, then waving to her as the locomotive pulls out from the platform, she can almost believe that to be the case: that she and Mary will remain friends, with Mary maybe tying the knot with Jimmy, of all people.
But of course at this time Wendy doesn't know that Jimmy won't be getting together with Mary at all, but will instead meet and marry Laura... And Wendy doesn't know that she won't be seeing Mary again for another five years, after Desmond's accident, and his return. And a variety of other changes, both beautiful and terrifying.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN COMING SOON
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three
Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen