Gargantuan (33 page)

It’s shocking to taste her. It has been three months, but it feels like as many decades. And if someone had told me this morning when I woke up to the horrible wheezing sound of a dying old man that I’d be making love to my estranged wife a few hours later, I’d have told them they were crazier than Ava’s ever been.

Ava is wiggling her hips and moaning in pleasure and for a moment I think of Ruby and a spear of guilt shoots through me. I was on the verge of loving her, but I probably never could have crossed over that precipice because of this woman, this savage, this moaning she-beast Ava who is in my blood just as I am in hers. My wife shakes in orgasm and I pull my head away and am about to enter her, to descend softly into her world, when the phone rings.

I jump to my feet.

“Attila! Calm down! It’s just the phone, come back here.”

“No. They’re after me,” I say, panicked, already looking for my clothes.

“Baby, if anyone is really after you, they’re probably not going to call first.”

“Answer it, Ava, please.”

“You want to talk to your assassin?”

“Just answer it.”

Ava reaches over and picks up the phone.

She listens then waves her hand at me, signaling that it’s nothing to worry about.

I go into the bathroom and throw water on my face. I stand naked in front of the mirror, looking at my torso. The muscles that will be of no use to me now. The muscles that will never again know what it’s like to hold back a thousand pounds of thoroughbred for the first half mile of a route race, the muscles that will probably turn to Jell-O now that their purpose has been taken from them. I can hear Ava, still talking on the phone. I walk down the hall to look at Grace’s room. It doesn’t look like a little girl’s room. It’s bare and tidy, the only decoration a huge poster I gave her of the racehorse Cigar. On the dresser is a little toy stable with some plastic horses arranged in order of size. Next to these there’s a bobblehead doll of the great race mare Xtra Heat. I’d never before noticed that my daughter’s only toys were representations of horses. There are no dolls or stuffed animals. It occurs to me that I don’t know my daughter at all anymore. I’m not sure when she turned into the creature who would inhabit this formal, minimalist room. I feel my chest tighten but I also feel relief just to know I’ll see her soon.

“Baby,” I hear Ava calling me.

I walk back into the bedroom.

“Who was that?”

“It’s a long story,” she says, looking sheepish, “and not necessarily one you will like. But I’ll tell it to you later. Please get on top of me,” she says, reaching for me.

“What, Ava? What have you done?” Between the false lightness of her tone and her evident urge to get me preoccupied, it’s clear that she’s done something bad.

“Just come here,” she ventures.

“No, Ava. Tell me,” I say, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“I thought I had to do something drastic to get your attention.”

I don’t like the sound of this.

“What? What have you done?”

“That awful girl,” she says, thrusting out her bottom lip.

“What awful girl?”

“That little rat-faced girl you’ve been fucking.”

“What! What have you done to Ruby?”

“Well, nothing. I just got someone to take her somewhere. I wasn’t going to have him hurt her or anything…”

“Ava! What the fuck have you done?”

I’m shaking her by the shoulders now and she starts crying.

“Don’t shake me, Attila,” she protests weakly. I can already tell she wants nothing more than to confess. She mutes her sobs and begins spilling the story. She evidently convinced a dim-witted groom that I was out to hurt horses and that the only way to get me to stop was to kidnap me, and failing that, kidnap my girlfriend. I feel my blood pumping through my head. I am dizzy and furious.

“So you tried to have me drowned, Ava? And you had Layla killed? What are you fucking nuts?” I’m screaming at her and feel very close to killing her. She’s sobbing and protesting that no, she doesn’t know anything about anyone being killed or my nearly being drowned or any of it and I keep shaking her by the shoulders as she sobs. After many long minutes of this, something shifts and I sense that her protestations are genuine, that my wife is indeed insane but she did not try to have me killed nor was she involved in Layla’s murder.

“Who the fuck is after me then?” I ask rhetorically.

She doesn’t answer me, she just stares ahead. She’s not sobbing anymore but tears are still sliding down her cheeks.

I pace.

“And so this guy has Ruby in a cabin up in the boondocks somewhere and won’t let her go?”

Ava nods.

“Is he going to hurt her?”

She shrugs.

“Ava, this is very serious, we have to call the police.”

“And say what? I had someone kidnapped but now I want to call it off and the guy’s wacko and won’t back off?”

“You should have thought of that sooner, Ava.”

“I couldn’t think. I needed you,” she says, and in that moment I feel a great confusion. I feel the entire history of me and Ava passing through me, the repulsion and attraction linked so closely they nearly choke each other, just as we have nearly choked each other with passion and sickness.

“We have to go get her then,” I say. I start putting my clothes on. My wife continues to sit on the bed. She is naked. Her small breasts look sad against her unearthly pale skin. Her face is still wet with tears, her blond hair is tangled.

“Get dressed, Ava. Now.”

She gets up and walks slowly to the closet. I watch her methodically put on simple cotton underwear, jeans, and a white sweater.

A few minutes later, as I frantically pace the length of the living room, Ava gets on the phone and makes arrangements for Janet, the beady-eyed woman who takes care of Grace, to pick our daughter up at school. Ava is being quite rude to Janet, but I’ve noticed that Janet seems to take some sort of pleasure in being barked at by my wife.

I say nothing to Ava as we go out to the Gremlin. Ava makes little cooing sounds over the funny-looking little car and I ignore her. She has the damnedest way of acting completely normal and nonchalant under the direst of circumstances.

We get in the car and pull out into traffic. It becomes evident that Ava doesn’t really know how to get up to this cabin in Ulster County.

“Haven’t you been there before?” I ask her, frustrated.

“Of course I have. It’s my friend’s cabin,” she says, a bit mysteriously, probably trying to provoke me into asking
what
friend.

“But you don’t remember how to get there?”

“I took the bus.”

“Ah,” I say.

We stop at a gas station where I buy a road atlas and where Ava takes an extraordinarily long time in the bathroom, emerging very
sullen looking. I know she wants me to ask what’s wrong, to have me coax an improved mood from her, but this isn’t a time for games. I feel my insides churning over the harm I’ve brought to Ruby.

The Gremlin sputters forward on the thruway and I pray that it will make it up there. I don’t really care what happens once we’ve gotten there and rescued Ruby from Ava’s lunatic kidnapper. But we must make it there.

We are both silent for a long spell. I am turning things over in my mind. Ruby. My wife. What could have driven her to do something like this? Eventually, I start talking to her.

“Have you been having a bad time, Ava?” I ask her, trying to inject my tone with an empathy I don’t quite feel.

“What do you mean?” she asks, pivoting her head toward me.

“Have you been feeling unwell?” I ask softly, as I stare at the road ahead, peripherally taking in the bleak late winter landscape of brown grass and naked trees.

“Are you being ridiculous, Attila?” Ava asks sharply.

“What do you mean ridiculous?”

“Don’t tippy-toe around me. You’re asking if I’ve been particularly nutso lately and the answer is yes, I have. I have missed my husband and it has done bad things to my containment device.”

“Your containment device?”

“My body. My brain chemistry. You know me, Attila. You know that change affects me unfavorably.”

“That’s not true, Ava. And half the time you were the one instigating major changes. Like sleeping with other people.”

“Let’s not discuss that.”

“Why not? You’ve
kidnapped my girlfriend
, Ava, and let’s not forget that the only reason I ended up in someone else’s arms was you, your behavior. And I don’t just mean your sleeping around. You are mysterious, Ava. For years you have kept yourself hidden.” I glance over at her. Her lips are parted. She looks very young and terribly sad.

“She’s really your girlfriend? You tell people that?” she asks with a pout.

“She’s a very kind and good person. We never discussed exactly what we were to one another. But I don’t want her hurt. I have already hurt her.”

“You have?” she asks, hopeful.

“I have. Because I could never be hers. Not completely.”

“Because of me?” she asks, a note of triumph coming into her voice.

“Something like that,” I say. I feel myself gripping the steering wheel tighter.

She knows that all will be restored between us. The love and hate, the passion and sickness. For better or for worse, we are bonded.

BY THE TIME
we reach the outskirts of Saugerties, night is falling. For the last half hour I’ve been unable to speak. I’ve kept my eyes on the road but this hasn’t prevented the images from coming. Images of Ruby. All the good that she represents. It was meeting her and feeling her faith in me that caused me to clean up my act and stop holding horses back. Sure, I’d been feeling like shit about it for a long time, but it was Ruby who made me want to come clean. It was Ruby who guided me to winning that last race. And I’ve done nothing but bring her harm. A sick feeling spreads through my stomach like ink in water.

“There,” Ava says, indicating a steep driveway, “it’s there.”

I pull in and negotiate the winding, ill-paved way. Tall trees stand vigil all around.

We pull up to a small white frame house. A light is on inside and, no sooner have we gotten out of the car, than a man emerges from the house. I’ve seen him before. At the track. I never forget a face. Particularly not this one. It’s not the most distinguished face but it’s troubled. He has worried eyes, a full but tense mouth and a long fringe of dark hair. He is holding a small gun which he has aimed at us.

“Ben,” Ava says to him.

“What do you want, Ava? What’s he doing here?” He motions at me with the gun.

“I tried to explain, Ben. I’m sorry, I misled you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Rightly so, Ben,” I try intervening. “Ava doesn’t always know what she’s doing,” I say, at which my wife gives me an icy look.

Ben does not look appeased.

“Where is Ruby?” I ask him.

“She’s fine,” he says.

“She’s in the house?”

“She’s there. Out back, in the cabin.” He motions behind the little house. “But you’re not going to see her until I have some assurances about my horse.”

“Who is your horse, Ben?” I ask him softly.

“You know who my horse is. You were gonna ride him. And hurt him.”

“I don’t know who your horse is, Ben. Can we please come in and talk?”

The man hesitates. His mouth is half open. His worried eyes are searching us.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, “all right. You go first,” he adds, indicating that we should walk in front of him. He follows, herding us with his gun.

We enter through an empty kitchen. A white dog appears and looks at Ava.

I walk ahead into a small living room and as I turn back around, I see Ava making a very stupid move. She is reaching for the gun in Ben’s hand. As she does this, the dog shows teeth, growls, and lunges for Ava’s leg.

“Fuck! Get him off me!” Ava screams but the dog’s teeth are sinking into my wife who starts hitting the dog on the head.

“Don’t touch my dog!” the lunatic screams, bringing the gun right to my wife’s temple.

“Get him off her!” I implore the lunatic.

Ava is grabbing at the dog and then, time stops. The lunatic issues one more warning and then
shoots my wife in the head
.

I watch in horror as life drains from Ava’s body and she falls to the ground.

The dog still has his
teeth in her leg
.

“
Stop it!”
I hear her voice before I see her. Ruby. She has suddenly materialized from behind the lunatic. He flips around, startled. The dog is also startled and at last lets go of my wife’s leg. I crumble down to Ava’s side as both the dog and the lunatic rush over to Ruby. I grab Ava’s wrist but there is no pulse. My next thought is for Ruby. The guy now has his little gun jammed up against Ruby’s temple. I spring to my feet.

“Stay there,” the lunatic orders me in a deadly serious voice.

I freeze in my tracks as my mind races, frantic. Then the dog goes over to Ruby and begins licking her hand. This distracts the lunatic who looks down at the dog. As he does so, I lunge for him and Ruby skirts away. It all happens so quickly. I am barely aware of any movement from the guy and then I feel an explosion in my chest. I see a great splash of impossible brightness. I feel myself falling.

I try to sit up but I can’t. I am choking. I watch my fingers scrabbling at the floor. I don’t know what they’re reaching for. The lunatic is bending over me. He looks worried. He is saying something. I look past him. At Ruby. Her eyes meet mine. My body is on fire as it never has been and I realize that in a few seconds I will die.

Ruby bends over me. I want her to run. I want her to be safe. I try to tell her this. To run. To hide. And then I find myself telling her to ride. In my twilight it’s what matters. This girl who has horses in her just as I do. This girl should ride. I try to convey this. I’m not sure that any words are coming out. I suddenly see a great wash of faces. My daughter. Violet Kravitz who I hope will look after my child. Ava. Ruby. And the horse, my last ride, Jack Valentine. I rekindle the feeling of giving the big gelding my all. Of winning at long odds.

All my life, I have been a small man but now, at last, I am gargantuan.