GemCrack Dawn

• 2011-12-20

  Seventy-One

  It‘s late dawn, outside the sky’s getting light when Natasha opens the door to her apartment and enters. First she checks the living room, then the bedroom, then the kitchen. At the door to the bathroom she hesitates: »Dude?«

  She opens the door to the bathroom and looks inside. She closes the door again. Walks about the apartment aimlessly. Takes out her cell phone and puts it away again. Finally she sits down at the kitchen table and watches the sun come up outside …

  The first rays of sun reach through the window and Natasha‘s cheeks are glistening. Nothing moving in her beautiful face as she stares out the window and the tears keep running from her eyes which are about to break …

  Outside the cries of herons drown out the traffic noise which spills in through the open window. Then the flock itself appears in the window‘s frame as the birds cross the sky in formation …

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  Seventy

  Outside the restaurant Alaska drives up in her convertible. She and Dude get out of the car and enter the restaurant …

  Inside Shugga and Elinor lean on the counter, and they’re silent for a minute, each lost in her own wondering …

  The door is being opened by Alaska who walks in ahead of Dude and holds the door open for him. Seeing Alaska Shugga gives a cry of joy and rushes over. The two girls hug each other and then lean back to gaze at each other, all smiles …

  With Shugga rushing over Alaska had let go of the door and Dude caught it and stepped inside. Elinor is watching the two girls. Dude steps around them and scans the place. The last of the guests gone, it seems. Except …

  Dude ambles over to the woman at the bar. Elinor stares at him. Frozen. She doesn‘t respond to his greeting, maybe she’s stopped breathing. Dude looks at her kind of quizzical, holds out his hand: »My name‘s …«

  His arm freezes in mid-movement, his mouth stays open. Very slowly Elinor extends her arm to reach for his hand. On her wrist a pair of bangles of brushed steel clink and catch the light: »Hello, Dude. It’s been some time, hasn’t it?«

  Her hair’s auburn, and her eyes are gray like rain in April. On her wrists the bangles of brushed steel glint, and they clink as she withdraws her hand because Dude seems a bit out of it …

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  Sixty-Nine

  Back at the restaurant the last of the guests have departed. Shugga and Elinor lean on the bar, confiding in each other. Shugga been talking about Alaska. Resting her chin in her hand, her eyes are lost in a dream that’s become reality: »She‘s just …  I don‘t know … so … I‘d never have believed I deserved someone like her …«   

  Elinor‘s watching Shugga, and suddenly she has tears in her eyes. When she doesn‘t say anything Shugga looks at her. Seeing the tears in Elinor‘s eyes she‘s concerned: »Elinor, what‘s the matter? Did I say something …«

  »No, darling, no, not at all. I‘m terribly sorry. It‘s just … I don‘t know. It‘s been so long ago …«

  Hesitatingly Elinor begins talking about a time many years ago when a young man had fallen in love with her, and she‘d rejected him …

  »I wanted so much, and he had nothing, really. Just himself and … well, what he called his love for me. But I felt he didn‘t know me. Then how could he love me? I guess … it just dawns on me I may have felt I didn‘t deserve his love. I didn‘t deserve anybody‘s love. Who was I? Some nobody‘s gal, grown up in the badlands of nowhere. Been waiting all those years to start with life so I might learn and find out what there is about me that might be worth anything …

  I wanted to make it big. Needed it really. Had to prove to myself that I was up to my own expectations of what life ought to be about …«

  Now it’s Shugga who‘s staring, and she’s fairly shaken by awesome Elinor‘s confession …

  »I wanted to make it big. Had to. Had to prove myself …,« Elinor says once again, this time more to herself, it seems …

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  Sixty-Eight

  Upon leaving the restaurant Elinor and her husband take leave from their guests. A taxi arrives, the guests get in and drive off. A second taxi arrives …

  Elinor‘s husband walks up and opens the rear door, stepping aside for Elinor to get in. Elinor walks around the front of the taxi to the other side. Passing the taxi in front she glances over her shoulder at the driver …

  Elinor and her husband get in the taxi and close the doors, her husband gives the driver their address. They each huddle in their corners and stare out the window at nothing in particular …

  Elinor‘s husband is fuming silently until he can‘t hold in his rage any longer: »I just cannot believe it! I told you he‘s my numero uno, he‘s going to make me or break me. And what did you do? Huh?«

  »You tell me.«

  »Yawning right into his face, that‘s what you been doing. And not just once! Jesus f***ing Christ!«

  »Watch your language, please, you‘re not at home. Anyway, I wasn‘t yawning.«

  »I saw it! Think I‘m blind?«

  »Wasn‘t yawning. Not once.«

  »I seen it, for Christ‘s f***ing sake! Your chin was trembling, your nostrils flared. Think he didn‘t notice? Think he‘s dumb and blind like me?«

  »That‘s pretty close to what I‘m thinking, yes.«

  Elinor‘s husband hits her once, hard. The taxi driver’s watching them in the rear-view mirror. Elinor merely rearranges her hair and stares out the window again …

  »Bitch! You even enjoy it, don‘t you? Getting them all hot. Waiting for them to put the make on you …«

  »That‘s what I‘m supposed to do, isn‘t it? Why else would you care to have me along?«

  The taxi slows down at a traffic light and stops. Elinor opens the door and gets out, closing the door behind her. Her husband gets out on his side and screams after her: »Will you get the f*** back in, you f***ing c***!? Come back right now or else …«

  Elinor crosses the street amid traffic from all sides. Some drivers have to slam the breaks, horns are blaring. On the other side of the crossing a vacant taxi‘s stopping at the light. She hails the driver and he opens the rear door for her to get in …

  Elinor gets in the other taxi, closes the door and the taxi drives off as the light changes …

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  Sixty-Seven

  At the restaurant where Shugga works Elinor and her husband have dinner with clients of his. They‘re being led to their table by a colleague of Shugga‘s. Elinor asks to have Shugga wait on them …

  When Shugga greets them Elinor treats her with great fondness and respect: »How you doin‘, Shugga? So nice to see you again …«

  The guests have trouble focussing their attention on the menu. Everybody’s mind on the events of 9/11, on their impact and on what the consequences are going to be …

  »The ultimate rock‘n‘roll event,« Elinor‘s husband muses: »You can‘t top this. It‘s got everything, all the symbolic power we been striving for in our professional careers, in our lives. Sex and death and rock‘n‘roll. Everybody‘s been striving for it, everbody who hasn‘t given up before trying, whether they knew it or not. Now they know it. Now we all know it. We know we‘ve been outdone and upstaged once and for all. You can‘t f***ing top this …«

  Elinor looks at him sharply but he either doesn’t notice or choses to ignore her disapproval of his vocabulary. The guests shake their heads in commiseration with Elinor‘s husband who stares vacantly at his plate in front of him …

  Elinor‘s clearly bored with the pretentiousness of people’s concern and attitude on this event. Her eyes are following Shugga and she smiles at her when Shugga looks over …

  »Well,« one of the guests sighs expansively, leaning back and gazing at the other people at the table: »Life goes on, doesn‘t it?« Everybody joins in the weak laughter that dribbles around the table …

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  Sixty-Six

  In the dense fog Dude is walking along the street embankment. Once or twice a car creeps past. Then another car approaches, going quite a bit faster. Some heavy sound spilling from inside … 

  The car’s headlights pour from the fog and zero in on Dude who‘s walking with his back to the car. At the last moment the car swerves and whizzes by. A couple of yards ahead it stops. The door opens and Alaska gets out …

  She walks back up to where Dude is standing. He seems preoccupied, maybe still processing what’s almost happened. Not frightened or worried at all, just busy …

  »You alright? I‘m awfully sorry …«

  Dude makes faces and looks about, weary of talking at all …

  »You alright,« Alaska asks again …

  Dude nods his head and intends to move past her but Alaska steps in front of him and puts a hand to his arm. »Look, don‘t walk away like that. I‘m really, truly and awefully sorry. I wasn‘t looking. I‘m a bit in a mess. Please …«

  Dude looks at her, for the first time really taking her in, and he looks over to her car. It‘s ovious what‘s going through his mind: Such a sleek chick with such a flashy car? What kind of a mess could she ever get in?

  »You can‘t go walking around here in this kind of soup. Somebody‘s going to run you down. Get in, please, I‘ll take you wherever you need to go. Come on …«

  Alaska, not waiting for his answer, grabs his arm and pulls him along. She fairly shoves him on the passenger seat, walks around the car and gets in behind the wheel: »I‘m gonna be careful now, promise, so don‘t you worry …«

  Driving along she glances over at him. Seeing he‘s not in a talking mood she concentrates on the glimpses of road ahead. After a while, without taking her eyes off the road, she ventures hesitatingly: »Something wrong? You can tell me. Sometimes it helps …«

  Dude doesn‘t answer. After a while Alaska asks: »By the way, where you want me to drop you off?« Still Dude doesn‘t respond …

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  Sixty-Five

  Out of the fog Dude walks up to the brothel where Natasha works. He pushes the buzzer and the bouncer opens the hatch in the door. Seeing Dude he looks kind of surprised and does a quick scan of the place in front of the club, looking for Dude‘s taxi. He opens the door and Dude steps inside …

  »Hey, Dude. Where‘s your car?«

  »Accident. Natasha here?«

  »I‘ll get her. Sorry about the accident, man …«

  After a short while Sergej returns and motions Dude toward a hallway in the back of the lobby: »You know the way …«

  Dude walks down the hallway. Stopping in front of a door he knocks and Natasha‘s voice asks him in …

  Dude closes the door behind him. »Hello, Natasha. Hya doin‘?«

  She looks at him a moment before she answers with a measured smile: »Always glad to see you, Dude, but I suspect that‘s not why you‘ve come, is it? Please, have a seat …«

  Dude sits down on the couch and looks on as Natasha makes up her face. She catches his eyes in the mirror and holds them for a while …

  »What you lookin‘ like that, Dude?«

  »I love watching you doing yourself up.«

  »Would you please cut the crap?«

  »I‘m sorry …«

  Dude stares at his hands, Natasha watching him in the mirror. Her voice has softened when she talks again: »What is it, Dude? What can I do for you?«

  Dude shakes his head, looks about, and gets up from the couch. »I‘m sorry I came here, Natasha. I know I shouldn‘t …«

  »Dude!«

  Dude has turned toward the door. Natasha rises fast and blocks the door. They stare at each other. »What is it, Dude?«

  Leaning with his back against the wall, Dude stares at the ceiling. »You still have that piece of metal?«

  Natasha watches him for a while, then she walks over to her dresser. Opening her shoulder bag she takes out a rather heavy semi-automatic and hands it to him …

  »What you need it for,« she asks in a quiet tone …

  »Business.«

  She stares at him and does some figuring out. »Need a second magazine,« she asks … 

  »Not a bad idea.«

  Reaching into her bag again she hands him a second magazine …

  »Thanks, Natasha. Appreciate it …«

  »Need a place to stay?«

  »Hadn‘t thought of that. You‘re smart.«

  »Who‘d have thought that?« Natasha pulls a set of keys from her bag and hands it to him …

  Dude bends forward as if to kiss her but Natasha turns her head to the side so his lips barely brush her cheek …

  »I don‘t deserve you,« Dude mumbles as he walks toward the door …

  Natasha abruptly turns her back on him, gritting her teeth, tears spilling from her eyes. Dude only sees her rigid shoulders as he turns toward her before closing the door …

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  Sixty-Four

  Dude‘s walking through the fog. Out of the fog ahead voices in high spirits approach. The first person to take shape in the whiteness is Elinor, walking ahead of the group. Wrapping her fur stole closer to her neck she‘s hugging herself as she walks by, the bangles giving a slight clinking as she disappears in the fog again, her high heels ringing …

  Dude, walking with his eyes to the ground, hasn‘t looked up. Then out of the fog Elinor‘s voice cries out in surprise. The sound of her high heels has stoppped dead. And then the bitching and whining voice of the punk can be heard again. He‘s crashed into Elinor and been thrown off his bike again …

  He‘s bitching at Elinor when the other voices of her party join in and they shut him up fast …

  »Elinor, darling, you alright?«

  Dude, walking throught the fog with his eyes to the ground, stops dead as he hears her name. And then the clinking of her bangles is to be heard again, maybe for real, maybe only in his mind, maybe both …

  One of the voices in the fog calls out: »Elinor, darling, where you going? Wait, please …«

  The voices fade away laughing, and Dude walks on …

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  Sixty-Three

  Stepping outside the theater Dude squints at the dense fog rolling in the street. »Some refinery blown up or what,« Dude mumbles to himself …

  A couple appears out of the fog. »Everything‘s a hazard nowadays,« the guy says as they disappear into the fog again. The girl giggling as if drunk … 

  Dude turns the other way. The fog‘s swallowed up the whole city. Plaza‘s and avenues have the appearance of places in the beyond. Few people are out, their steps resound from the invisible buildings surrounding deserted spaces. Cars crawling past like dazed beetles, the streetcar the only vehicle not bothering with anything that might be in its way as it screeches around the bend …

  Dude‘s walking with eyes to the ground, not paying attention to his surroundings. Stealthy like a whisper from death himself a young guy on a bike appears out of the fog. Neither wheels nor chain make a sound. The guy has earphones wrapped around his head but either they sit so tight that no sound spills from them or he has no sound running at all …

  His head low, his eyes fixed on the ground a yard ahead, the guy comes out of the fog and runs smack into Dude who merely lifts his head and looks on as the guy is thrown off the bike, falling head over heels to the ground, the bike going the other way before tumbling to the ground as well …

  The guy on the ground is done up as a punk. Up on his feet again so fast as if he‘s been waiting for something like that to happen. Flashing a blade he walks up to Dude: »Where the fuck you think you doing? Blind or what? What you got them eyes for? Don‘t need ‘em, huh?«

  The punk‘s dancing in front of Dude, sure of himself and eager for what he seems to know is going to happen next. Dude merely glances at the punk and keeps walking toward him …

  Moving backwards the punk keeps up his dancing routine: »Man, I‘m talking to you! You not just blind but deaf, too? Want me to cut you up to let in some fresh air, you fuck?«

  Dude keeps walking on toward the punk who finally moves out of his way, still trying to keep up his dancing and bitching: »Man, you too old, you‘re not worth it. A coupla years younger and I‘da cut you up into pieces. Been waiting all day for somebody like you. You‘d have made my day, you fuck …«

  The punk‘s voice sounds more and more like a whine as it fades away into the fog. Dude disappears into the fog as well …

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  Sixty-Two

  Dude at the movies. A small art house theater, the movie is Billy The Kid by Arthur Penn, starring young Paul Newman. It‘s a small theater, the audience is even smaller. Dude has the row to himself. His face a mask, himself apparently not present as the lights from the screen flicker across his face …

  When the credits are rolling at the end of the movie and the lights go on, the few people who‘ve come get up and leave. Dude stays on, staring at the white screen. The clinking of those bangles of brushed steel ringing inside his head …

  The usher comes looking between the rows of seats to see if anything has been left behind. Looking over at Dude the usher gives a discrete cough: »Scuse me, next show‘s going to start soon. People waiting outside …«

  Dude gets up and leaves …