bang

it just couldnt be true-- there was no way that he couldnt remember. candace had allowed herself two possibilities: that she had entered her phone number into his phone wrong, though she couldnt imagine doing that, or he was essentially a bad person and she should be glad that she figured it out early. but he was so precise on saturday, saying he would call on sunday between ten and eleven when he got his schedule, saying he wanted to take her to a movie early in the week. they talked for hours outside of the bar he worked for, their conversation interrupted by him having to check everyones IDs as they filed in. she walked home that night even though it was too late for her to do that, even though it was a very very long walk. she walked home and smiled the whole way, smiling because finally she was getting what she believed she deserved- a guy who made her forget what time it was, a guy who she actually liked who actually liked her back. there was no denying it, she knew he would call and she knew it would be spectacular and she knew already that she liked him so much it could potentially hurt. it was the most raw thing she had felt in months- instead of ignoring the parts that she didnt like about guys who liked her and then feeling relieved when they walked out of bars and never called again, or when they got the picture that she really had no feelings for them besides wanting a warm body and never called again, instead of going through those tired motions she wanted something, she really wanted it and she was near enough to see exactly how it would play out and exactly how satisfied she would be.

her mother was in town with her best friend from college, kitty, a woman candace had grown up with, a woman who defined being alive for her when she was a child, when she watched her dance in her strapless purple dress on her fortieth birthday party. candace's mom threw it for kitty at their home in georgia and candace carried it with her throughout her life- the image of kittys lithe body being dipped by candaces father to "diamonds on the soles of her shoes," her head thrown back and her mascara-ed eyes closed; and later, on the deck in the thick summer air, kitty kissing her boyfriend in the corner, his hands exploring her body like he was blind and she was braile. candace had always, even in her six old mind that night, considered it a preview of what she would experience- purple dresses and mascara and blushing cheeks and songs that make you laugh and being dipped in a crowded living room and men's hands finally being sated. kitty was married now and living in south florida with a husband who it was clear did not deserve her, who though he loved her desparately and couldnt imagine a life without her, was not who we had all envisioned her ending up with. she made him meat loaf every night, because thats what he wanted, and he usually fell asleep at the table before the plates had even been cleared. this trip was a moment of truth for her, she needed to be with her best friend and see candace and remember what it was like when the biggest worry was some bartender calling you back. she needed to put on makeup and call the waiters "sugar."

the three of them went to dinner on sunday night and candace told them that she was expecting a call, that it was a call she had been expecting for a long time now really and that though she didnt want to jump the gun this felt more right than anything had for a long time. and she said she knew that he was a bartender and all of the negative things that come with that but he was different, she absolutely knew it and she had never before been wrong about something she absolutely knew. and they were giddy with excitement for her and everytime she checked her phone they couldnt help but asking "well!?" not yet, she said each time, but it was just now ten and you know guys, they're always late.

he hadnt called by the next night and she was beginning to be worried that he had the wrong number. she imagined him dialing it and getting a wrong number and thinking 'why would she do that?' and then here she was and once they saw each other again they would work it out and it would be a mini pyramus and thisbe and it would just make for a great story. she was thinking that way on monday, and her mom and kitty both said the same thing- he'll call. he will call, he just has to do this for awhile. this man nonsense. and she believed them because every time theyve said it would work out, it has, in an eerily similar manner as how they predicted it would.

but he didnt, and it was thursday and she was getting ready to just go to the bar and see for herself. she and her best friend, the one who warned her from the beginning to not believe a word he says for two reasons- hes too good looking and hes a bartender, and when those things are combined there is very little regard for other people. though she was getting indignant and trying to muster up some anger rather than devastatingly pure disappointment, she knew something had to have happened. they had been flirting for weeks, and that last saturday night had been as close to perfect as she had felt in recent memory, the connection between the two of them, and besides it wasnt like they had hooked up and then he never called again. she could tell he didnt want it to be like that, which is why he wanted to take her on a date, a proper date. he said so himself and she believed him and still did. but when the two of them walked through the front doors and she caught his eye and he didnt change his facial expression or even linger on her face she began to get worried. this was the worst case scenario she had conjured up- this denial that it had ever happened. the two of them walked up to the bar and candace had to hold the ten dollar bill under the counter because her hands were visibly shaking. he looked at her and she smiled but he didnt ask her what she wanted, which he already knew by heart. instead a pallid, gaunt girl with long brown hair that candace had never seen working there before took her order. they sat on bar stools and just said things to each other to make them look busy. candace looked over now and then and he smiled at her once, with the same sort of smile he used to use every time she walked in. she was utterly confused.

halfway through their drinks he left to smoke a cigarette and candace insisted they go outside. her friend thought it was a bad idea but they couldnt sit there all night, just waiting for him. they downed the rest of their cocktails and walked outside, where he was talking to the doorman. she nudged him on the shoulder and said, in the most nonchalant voice she could muster, "hey, what happened?" and he looked at her like he had never seen her before and shrugged his shoulders. she walked over to her friend, lit a cigarette and touched his arm as he was opening the door to go back inside. she didnt say anything this time, she just lifted her hands up a little like i give up, i dont get the rules, just tell me what im supposed to do now and ill do it. he walked through the door and turned around before letting it close and smiled a little bit and said

i dont remember.

she was stunned. what if the whole thing had been a dream? what if she was going crazy and none of it had ever happened? was she dreaming now? he doesnt remember...he doesnt remember.

she walked to the end of the block, her friend saying just keep it in til we turn the corner and then all of the tears in the world will be yours, but when they turned the corner there were no tears there, just terrified confusion and a sufffocating fear that she was going insane. she said she just wanted to go home and began walking the same long walk she had walked the saturday before, after he called her by her last name and said he couldnt wait to be with her somewhere other than this dirty bar.

from her disbelief grew an amorphous mass of paranoia. she was paranoid that she was crazy, that she wasnt really alive, that even being there in new york was a lie that she had told herself. she began to be worried that she was about to be killed by everyone who passed, that cars were going to swerve off houston and flatten her, that every person who passed had a gun in their pocket that they were going to use to kill her dead. she was paranoid that she was destined to live in the cycle of these meaningless interactions with people that never amounted to anything more than a vague memory, a memory that gets quickly pushed aside. that was the worst one, worse than being killed or being delusional- the fear that this is what life is, hollow encounters, and maybe even lies, purposeful lies created by people who tricked you into trusting them.

she was walking through the worst part of her journey home. the darkest stretch, the one that normally made her clutch her purse and quicken her step. but for some reason now the fear had turned into indifference, over the course of just a few blocks, and she felt morbidly excited to be validated by one of those paranoias. and then two men turned the corner and began walking towards her. they were black and big and she had a tendency to fall into these reprodcued notions of what was scary and those two things were to her very scary- big and black. she kept walking towards them and she walked harder becauase normally she hated the sound her heels made, like an unitentional mating call, but tonight she wanted to test it and just see how many holes she could burn into her own self, her own fears, the things that kept her where she was.

the men were looking her up and down and talking to each other and she would have been getting very scared now, scared to the point of coming up with a plan, but tonight she wasnt. she had gone to one limit, and now she was going to the other. obviously she had always been scared of the wrong things- black men and guns and cars hitting her and really, what she needed to be scared of was a beauiful man who said, while she was in the middle of a sentence, 'i think youre pretty,' and then had the potential to tell her he didnt remember. so fuck that, she said to herself, and maybe even out loud. fuck it i had my priorities all wrong and now i know who to fear.

and as they were about to cross each other one of the men grabbed her arm. her heart was racing, hadnt stopped racing since she walked into the bar. she was breathing heavily and looking into his eyes and they were like two cracked eggs, frying in a pan.

"bang bang," he said, and let go of her arm with a violent thrust.