Chapter 13 -- Transitions
Author's Note: Dear Reader, we are firmly back into PG-13 territory. This story still ain't for with the kiddies, but storm of NC-17 hath passed. It will return, however. I'll warn you ahead of time.
The grey of evening fills the room,
There's no need to look outside,
To see or feel the rain.
Then I reach across to touch her,
But I know that she's not there.
Rain keeps running down the window pane.
Time is running out for me.
Phil Collins - Domino, Pt. 1 - In The Glow Of the Night
Chapter 13 -- Transitions
Spring had come early in Chicago, spring showers and skies of leaden gray that would be dumping sleet after the sun set. The west side suburbs looked soaked, but here and there a bit of green could be spotted. Green that would shine brightly like emeralds amidst all the shades and colors of concrete found in the city.
'Welcome back to Chicago,' Mara thought. Her body had settled back into the familiar rhythms of the "L" train. Formerly known as the O'Hare/Congress line, she found that in the years since she had last been in the city, the line was now called the Blue Line.
She pressed her temple against the window of the swaying train watching the stops go by. She wondered how anyone would want to drive in the city when it had such a comprehensive transit system. The train overlooked the Kennedy Expressway, and traffic had ground almost to a standstill, stop and go, stop and go, going in the opposite direction from her. She hadn't minded taking the train to meet Kevin and/or Lara in the city. They would have had to battle that mess to come pick her up.
She had flown into Chicago's O'Hare airport about an hour ago and was rudely reminded by the bustling crowds just why she had moved away. She had kept a firm hold on her fragile emotions as she navigating the throngs of people going about their business.
At least, as always, the signage at O'Hare was superb. She found her way to the Blue Line station without any trouble, dragging her rolling suitcase behind her. She was glad she had taken an afternoon flight in. The train would be fairly empty, or at least more empty than it would have been had it the morning commute into the city. Seeing plenty of room on the train, she had taken one seat and pulled her suitcase up on its twin right next to it.
The rocking motion and clatter of the train lulled Mara into a half-daze. She felt outside of time, the culture shock not even beginning to register yet. Yet everything was so familiar from her time at Northwestern and Medill.
It had all started the day after...the blizzard. She wouldn't, couldn't go back to events during the blizzard, not just yet. Not if she wanted to survive this train trip into the heart of the city. She tightened the quiver that had started in her lower lip into a firm line and swallowed her tears.
Rafe was somewhere in the vast city. Somewhere. Who knew where. He had flown back as if shot from a bow and promptly disappeared.
The day after the blizzard the phone had rung. Mara had picked it up thinking that it was someone from the paper trying to get a hold of her. Instead, it was Kevin, asking to speak with Rafe, his tone clipped and serious.
She had silently handed the phone over to Rafe who had been standing beside her, a question in her bewildered eyes. She had rarely heard that tone in Kevin's voice, and never had he spoken that way to her.
Rafe had listened to the voice on the other end of the line, grunting an occasional negative or affirmative. He had taken Mara by the arm, and ushered her gently out of the den, firmly shutting the door behind her.
Mara had stood outside the door and watched her vision darken from normal to a haze of red. How dare they?? This was her house, she had taken on Rafe as a favor to Kevin, and now something had happened to shut her out.
A mocking voice had echoed in her head, 'And Rafe has returned the favor with interest now hasn't he? Never thought you'd have a lover again, now did you Mara, dear?'
Mara became even angrier at that small piece of mockery. Disgusted, she found that she was now mad at herself as well as the two men.
A few minutes later Rafe had come out of the den, looking grim.
"Well?" Mara had asked, concern and anger fighting for the upper hand in her voice.
He had looked at her. He had looked at her and then straight through her. It was then when she felt the first chip into her heart. That look had hurt, it had cut her where she didn't think she could be cut again, not ever.
She had tried to meet his eyes, hers bewildered and angry. He had gone to his bedroom and shut the door. She had quickly swept after him, intending to batter the door down, but her fist had frozen in the air before even striking the door.
The mocking voice was speaking again, 'Face it Mara, this was a fling for him, and now his boss is tugging on his reins, calling him back to the big city, away from lil' ol' Pittsville.'
At that, Mara had gone upstairs. She had lain down on her bed, her eyes dry and wide open, unable to believe the pain of betrayal that was rippling through her. Rafe betraying her, god, even Kevin betraying her. It was too large an emotion to wrap her mind or heart around.
'Why am I betrayed? How am I betrayed? Am I...betrayed?' she had asked herself, hoping against hope that someone would answer that bottomless question, even if it was that scathing little inner voice that seemed to be breaking the news to her in a not-so-nice manner.
Another question had reared its ugly head at that point. 'Did I betray myself?' She felt her heart crack a little more as she mentally squirmed in embarrassment that she could have been so...gullible.
"Kevin, I thought you were my friend." she said plaintively to the air of her bedroom. "Rafe..." her voice had trailed off then, their relationship had been so...new... that she didn't even know what to call him. A new friend? A new lover? A new comrade in arms in that camaraderie that joined people trying to report the news where ever they might be?
'Don't mistake his helping at the paper for a few days,' the mocking voice finally came back, 'for something more than a bit of amusement to pass the time in BoredomLand. Don't mistake his...sexual...interest for something more.' The inner voice was particularly scathing on that last sentence, and Mara closed her eyes in pain, to try to shut off that voice in the darkness of her head.
After a couple of hours of recrimination and no sound from downstairs had caused a pounding headache to develop, Mara had swallowed a bit of her pride and went downstairs to find her big bottle of ibuprofen in the pantry. She sneered to herself, a wholly unaccustomed facial expression for her, remembering that its smaller partner, which was normally in her bathroom, was now in Rafe's bedroom. The damned guestroom.
She had walked past the den and saw Rafe with his lap top. He had looked up and caught her peering at him and shut the laptop. The click of its locking mechanism had been another blow, chipping away another piece of heart.
But she had been sick of sniveling upstairs, wondering what the fuck had happened. She became determined to find out. She had been so incredibly angry that she couldn't even remember what she had said, what insults had been hurled. This had caused a blazing row, with Rafe once again departing for his room, this time glaring at her coldly, before slamming the door shut.
Evidently irreconcilable insults had been hurled. She had stormed off to the pantry to get the ibuprofen and had stormed upstairs and had cried stormy tears until she fell asleep.
The next morning, she heard a knock downstairs, on the front door. Her head felt peculiarly numb and her mouth was parched. She had haltingly gone and peered between the banisters of the stairs.
Grove had arrived to pick Rafe up for the first leg of his journey back to Chicago. He had glanced up, seeing her peering between the banisters. He looked grim, and looked up at her with a question in his eyes, taking in her blotchy face and red eyes. She had shrugged and looked down at the carpet covering the stairs, then had looked up, looking for Rafe
Rafe had already stepped out on the porch with his luggage in tow. She couldn't see his face from where she was, just the lower two-thirds of his body. Grove stepped back to try to give her a clearer view, but Rafe's hand had reached out and shut the door.
The click of the door closing knocked her off her feet to sit on the landing. She had sat there for the longest time, glaring at nothing.
---------------
Mara on the train shuddered when she had remembered the rage and hurt she had felt at that moment. She had felt so horribly...used. However, she found that her eyes were bone dry and a roiling determination to get to the root of whatever happened was now boiling in her chest.
If nothing else, the curious newspaperwoman was coming to the forefront again. It might not be a story for the Prairiedog she was researching here, but she was bound and determined to find out why the editor of that venerable old paper felt so...fucked over.
She grimaced sourly at herself, recognizing the symptoms. She had felt them when her father had died. Disassociation. The psyche doing what it could to handle an untenable situation. Well, so she'd be a reporter again, this time to investigate just what the hell had happened. And Why, And Where, And How, And Who, the litany of basic interviewing technique resounding in her head.
As the train rolled even closer to the heart of Chicago, she started actively watching the stations sweeping past. She didn't want to miss her stop. She thought back to her distant knowledge of the Blue Line and remembered that it would go underground. Her station was in brief downtown subway portion of the elevated.
Her face broke into a grin as she thought about the symbolism of going underground. Euridyce in Hades, only in this case she was coming up out of hell to find her Orpheus. She snorted at that, earning a glare from a fellow passenger. Orpheus indeed. He had certainly played her like the lyre of that that ancient Greek musician.
Her mirth at that threatened to break into hysterical laughter as the train plunged into the darkness of its underground tracks. The interior lights flickered, and then resumed a steady glowing. Washington Street station. The train came to a halt disgorging and taking on passengers. Monroe, her stop was the next station.
Mara stood and trundled closer to the door, keeping her suitcase in tight formation against her body, which swayed with the rocking of the train. Not having a handy handhold, she instinctively braced herself as the train abruptly slowed, so as to remain upright. No sense in really making a spectacle of herself on the train and falling over, possibly knocking over some fellow passengers like dominos.
Domino. Her mind latched onto that thought. She was a domino that had been set into motion by the circumstances surrounding her. As the domino, plunging downward, she hoped there would be other dominos to cradle her fall. That she wasn't the end of the line and would fall flat on her face.
The train came to a halt and she pushed her way off, dragging her wheeling suitcase behind like a miscreant toddler. She took the escalator up to ground level and stood on the sidewalk of Chicago's famous State Street, a bit dazed by the sheer scale of the buildings towering above her. Ah, her old friend culture shock was beginning its wizen head.
She heard a voice behind her calling her name. Turning her head, she saw Lara Kuntzler coming towards her. She was swept into a warm hug by the wife of her supposed friend and felt tears trying to come yet again into her eyes. She bit her lip and sat back numbly in the taxi that Lara had hustled her into, not really hearing the destination that woman gave to the cabbie. She distantly wondered if it would matter as she sat back and rested her head on the back of the seat, closing her eyes.
The grey of evening fills the room,
There's no need to look outside,
To see or feel the rain.
Then I reach across to touch her,
But I know that she's not there.
Rain keeps running down the window pane.
Time is running out for me.
Phil Collins - Domino, Pt. 1 - In The Glow Of the Night
Chapter 13 -- Transitions
Spring had come early in Chicago, spring showers and skies of leaden gray that would be dumping sleet after the sun set. The west side suburbs looked soaked, but here and there a bit of green could be spotted. Green that would shine brightly like emeralds amidst all the shades and colors of concrete found in the city.
'Welcome back to Chicago,' Mara thought. Her body had settled back into the familiar rhythms of the "L" train. Formerly known as the O'Hare/Congress line, she found that in the years since she had last been in the city, the line was now called the Blue Line.
She pressed her temple against the window of the swaying train watching the stops go by. She wondered how anyone would want to drive in the city when it had such a comprehensive transit system. The train overlooked the Kennedy Expressway, and traffic had ground almost to a standstill, stop and go, stop and go, going in the opposite direction from her. She hadn't minded taking the train to meet Kevin and/or Lara in the city. They would have had to battle that mess to come pick her up.
She had flown into Chicago's O'Hare airport about an hour ago and was rudely reminded by the bustling crowds just why she had moved away. She had kept a firm hold on her fragile emotions as she navigating the throngs of people going about their business.
At least, as always, the signage at O'Hare was superb. She found her way to the Blue Line station without any trouble, dragging her rolling suitcase behind her. She was glad she had taken an afternoon flight in. The train would be fairly empty, or at least more empty than it would have been had it the morning commute into the city. Seeing plenty of room on the train, she had taken one seat and pulled her suitcase up on its twin right next to it.
The rocking motion and clatter of the train lulled Mara into a half-daze. She felt outside of time, the culture shock not even beginning to register yet. Yet everything was so familiar from her time at Northwestern and Medill.
It had all started the day after...the blizzard. She wouldn't, couldn't go back to events during the blizzard, not just yet. Not if she wanted to survive this train trip into the heart of the city. She tightened the quiver that had started in her lower lip into a firm line and swallowed her tears.
Rafe was somewhere in the vast city. Somewhere. Who knew where. He had flown back as if shot from a bow and promptly disappeared.
The day after the blizzard the phone had rung. Mara had picked it up thinking that it was someone from the paper trying to get a hold of her. Instead, it was Kevin, asking to speak with Rafe, his tone clipped and serious.
She had silently handed the phone over to Rafe who had been standing beside her, a question in her bewildered eyes. She had rarely heard that tone in Kevin's voice, and never had he spoken that way to her.
Rafe had listened to the voice on the other end of the line, grunting an occasional negative or affirmative. He had taken Mara by the arm, and ushered her gently out of the den, firmly shutting the door behind her.
Mara had stood outside the door and watched her vision darken from normal to a haze of red. How dare they?? This was her house, she had taken on Rafe as a favor to Kevin, and now something had happened to shut her out.
A mocking voice had echoed in her head, 'And Rafe has returned the favor with interest now hasn't he? Never thought you'd have a lover again, now did you Mara, dear?'
Mara became even angrier at that small piece of mockery. Disgusted, she found that she was now mad at herself as well as the two men.
A few minutes later Rafe had come out of the den, looking grim.
"Well?" Mara had asked, concern and anger fighting for the upper hand in her voice.
He had looked at her. He had looked at her and then straight through her. It was then when she felt the first chip into her heart. That look had hurt, it had cut her where she didn't think she could be cut again, not ever.
She had tried to meet his eyes, hers bewildered and angry. He had gone to his bedroom and shut the door. She had quickly swept after him, intending to batter the door down, but her fist had frozen in the air before even striking the door.
The mocking voice was speaking again, 'Face it Mara, this was a fling for him, and now his boss is tugging on his reins, calling him back to the big city, away from lil' ol' Pittsville.'
At that, Mara had gone upstairs. She had lain down on her bed, her eyes dry and wide open, unable to believe the pain of betrayal that was rippling through her. Rafe betraying her, god, even Kevin betraying her. It was too large an emotion to wrap her mind or heart around.
'Why am I betrayed? How am I betrayed? Am I...betrayed?' she had asked herself, hoping against hope that someone would answer that bottomless question, even if it was that scathing little inner voice that seemed to be breaking the news to her in a not-so-nice manner.
Another question had reared its ugly head at that point. 'Did I betray myself?' She felt her heart crack a little more as she mentally squirmed in embarrassment that she could have been so...gullible.
"Kevin, I thought you were my friend." she said plaintively to the air of her bedroom. "Rafe..." her voice had trailed off then, their relationship had been so...new... that she didn't even know what to call him. A new friend? A new lover? A new comrade in arms in that camaraderie that joined people trying to report the news where ever they might be?
'Don't mistake his helping at the paper for a few days,' the mocking voice finally came back, 'for something more than a bit of amusement to pass the time in BoredomLand. Don't mistake his...sexual...interest for something more.' The inner voice was particularly scathing on that last sentence, and Mara closed her eyes in pain, to try to shut off that voice in the darkness of her head.
After a couple of hours of recrimination and no sound from downstairs had caused a pounding headache to develop, Mara had swallowed a bit of her pride and went downstairs to find her big bottle of ibuprofen in the pantry. She sneered to herself, a wholly unaccustomed facial expression for her, remembering that its smaller partner, which was normally in her bathroom, was now in Rafe's bedroom. The damned guestroom.
She had walked past the den and saw Rafe with his lap top. He had looked up and caught her peering at him and shut the laptop. The click of its locking mechanism had been another blow, chipping away another piece of heart.
But she had been sick of sniveling upstairs, wondering what the fuck had happened. She became determined to find out. She had been so incredibly angry that she couldn't even remember what she had said, what insults had been hurled. This had caused a blazing row, with Rafe once again departing for his room, this time glaring at her coldly, before slamming the door shut.
Evidently irreconcilable insults had been hurled. She had stormed off to the pantry to get the ibuprofen and had stormed upstairs and had cried stormy tears until she fell asleep.
The next morning, she heard a knock downstairs, on the front door. Her head felt peculiarly numb and her mouth was parched. She had haltingly gone and peered between the banisters of the stairs.
Grove had arrived to pick Rafe up for the first leg of his journey back to Chicago. He had glanced up, seeing her peering between the banisters. He looked grim, and looked up at her with a question in his eyes, taking in her blotchy face and red eyes. She had shrugged and looked down at the carpet covering the stairs, then had looked up, looking for Rafe
Rafe had already stepped out on the porch with his luggage in tow. She couldn't see his face from where she was, just the lower two-thirds of his body. Grove stepped back to try to give her a clearer view, but Rafe's hand had reached out and shut the door.
The click of the door closing knocked her off her feet to sit on the landing. She had sat there for the longest time, glaring at nothing.
---------------
Mara on the train shuddered when she had remembered the rage and hurt she had felt at that moment. She had felt so horribly...used. However, she found that her eyes were bone dry and a roiling determination to get to the root of whatever happened was now boiling in her chest.
If nothing else, the curious newspaperwoman was coming to the forefront again. It might not be a story for the Prairiedog she was researching here, but she was bound and determined to find out why the editor of that venerable old paper felt so...fucked over.
She grimaced sourly at herself, recognizing the symptoms. She had felt them when her father had died. Disassociation. The psyche doing what it could to handle an untenable situation. Well, so she'd be a reporter again, this time to investigate just what the hell had happened. And Why, And Where, And How, And Who, the litany of basic interviewing technique resounding in her head.
As the train rolled even closer to the heart of Chicago, she started actively watching the stations sweeping past. She didn't want to miss her stop. She thought back to her distant knowledge of the Blue Line and remembered that it would go underground. Her station was in brief downtown subway portion of the elevated.
Her face broke into a grin as she thought about the symbolism of going underground. Euridyce in Hades, only in this case she was coming up out of hell to find her Orpheus. She snorted at that, earning a glare from a fellow passenger. Orpheus indeed. He had certainly played her like the lyre of that that ancient Greek musician.
Her mirth at that threatened to break into hysterical laughter as the train plunged into the darkness of its underground tracks. The interior lights flickered, and then resumed a steady glowing. Washington Street station. The train came to a halt disgorging and taking on passengers. Monroe, her stop was the next station.
Mara stood and trundled closer to the door, keeping her suitcase in tight formation against her body, which swayed with the rocking of the train. Not having a handy handhold, she instinctively braced herself as the train abruptly slowed, so as to remain upright. No sense in really making a spectacle of herself on the train and falling over, possibly knocking over some fellow passengers like dominos.
Domino. Her mind latched onto that thought. She was a domino that had been set into motion by the circumstances surrounding her. As the domino, plunging downward, she hoped there would be other dominos to cradle her fall. That she wasn't the end of the line and would fall flat on her face.
The train came to a halt and she pushed her way off, dragging her wheeling suitcase behind like a miscreant toddler. She took the escalator up to ground level and stood on the sidewalk of Chicago's famous State Street, a bit dazed by the sheer scale of the buildings towering above her. Ah, her old friend culture shock was beginning its wizen head.
She heard a voice behind her calling her name. Turning her head, she saw Lara Kuntzler coming towards her. She was swept into a warm hug by the wife of her supposed friend and felt tears trying to come yet again into her eyes. She bit her lip and sat back numbly in the taxi that Lara had hustled her into, not really hearing the destination that woman gave to the cabbie. She distantly wondered if it would matter as she sat back and rested her head on the back of the seat, closing her eyes.
posted by Dace @ 11:49 PM
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