Henry

I’m alive like a pirate, and god is a bird on my shoulder! Finally, I’ve accepted that this road must be traveled alone, like a doctor’s visit, like a dream you enter in your own mind. 

[2 HOURS PRIOR]

In the sunlight the door looked almost white, not the lavender it was described as in the email. It reminded me of the first place I had in Eastie with Marina. The two toned purple duplex, with the purple trim and steps that led to – 

“Welcome! come in, in!” A woman, probably mid fifties, swung the door, and held it open with her forearm. She was dressed in long red fabrics with gold trimming on the sleeves.

“Did you have trouble finding it?”

“No, no trouble.” 

She led me through a dimly lit hallway with tapestries hanging floor to ceiling. The smoke detectors were covered with the plastic bags you usually get from bodega that say THANK YOU a dozen or so times. The smell of incense was almost overbearing. 

I followed behind her, watching the silk wrapped around her hips sway with each step. She had coarse dark hair and what I would describe as an overall Ursula disposition to her that I actually found quite comforting. 

“Have a seat dear, wherever you’d like.”

We arrived at a candle lit room behind a row of beaded curtains. Miniature idol statues that I couldn’t identify, crystals, and frames of Rumi passages, filled every inch of surface possible.

“Thank you,” I said. 

I picked a round, green, paisley floor pillow, and she slumped onto one across the table from me.

“I’m usually not late like this but my parrot had a rather large kernel of corn wedged in his throat and so I had to get my neighbor..." she moved her hands up and down a lot, and I nodded as politely as I could. 

“Anyway,” she exhaled and paused for a moment. “I am Misty Lana, and I’m so glad you’re here today. Dayna is it?” 

“Donna.”

“Donna, let's get started, not many Donna’s under 50 these days! Ha! You are a treasure. How are you feeling today? It’s beautiful outside today, yeah?”

“Mhm,” I nodded. She pulled out a deck of cards from an unknown place, and began shuffling. She kept her eyes closed tightly and chin tilted upwards. 

I couldn’t help but fidget with my cuticles. This type of thing felt desperate and futile, and entirely out of character for me. I wonder what Marina would say if she could see me now. My stomach lurched just thinking about the monumental amount of pity she’d have. 

“Deep breath.” Misty Lana said. 

I mirrored her, inhaling until my chest puffed out, and exhaling until it flattened. She spread the cards out in a long line in front of me.

“Now, I want you to choose an area of your life that you’d like this reading to focus on, okay? What I mean by that is career, romance, health, family, travel, you know?

“Yeah,” I said, and she nodded. I looked at her for a while, and she stared back at me with an encouraging expression. I could feel my palms getting hot and start to sweat. 

“Career.” I blurted out. All of a sudden it was out there and I couldn’t take it back. What was I doing? I tried to say something but I couldn’t form the words. Career? I wasn’t struggling in my career per say, I mean, I wouldn’t consider liquor sales my dream job. I’m 27 now, I’m well aware that the phrase dream job is something of an oxymoron. No. I’m supposed to find out if Marina and I will– Shit! I need to take it back, I’m paying 56 dollars for this!

“Career it is. Now, choose three cards, and leave them face down until I tell you to flip them over.”

 I did as she said. Once I got the green light, the cards were flipped, and I didn’t know what to make of the images I saw.

Misty Lana inhaled, and put her index finger down on the first card.

*

I get home and I try not to waste much time. “Ginny…Ginny!” I call, making pst,pst,pst, noises into the hallway. “Friskeys!” 

Into the kitchen she prances, rubbing up against my leg as I shake the food bag into her silver dish. Once she starts eating, I make a bee-line to the bathroom, and start emptying the contents of the medicine cabinet by the armful into a trash bag. 

Perfume, contact solution, her nasty fish oil pills, and of course the jar of coconut oil that took up so much space, but that Marina insisted deserved a permanent residence in our shared, tiny medicine cabinet—trash. Then came her towel, her curling iron under the sink, her half empty boxes of red hair dye, into the bag without a second thought. 

Part of me waited so long to clean her things out because I thought it would be too difficult but after seeing Misty Lana, I felt almost divinely protected from my own emotions. 

I make my way into the living room, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the microwave door. My blue eyes look clear and sharp, and my buzzed head makes me feel aerodynamic. 

Her books about feng shui, her knitting needles, the paperweight in the shape of a robin's egg, trash. Trash, trash, trash. But then I do a double take and stop. My mind finally registers Henry, sitting still in the corner just as he’s always been, but I guess I kept forgetting to notice. He was Marina’s favorite. Why didn’t she take him? 

I’ll get rid of him when I pack up the larger pieces, I tell myself.

 Ginny watches me from the top of the backrest of my red corduroy chair, squinting her eyes sleepily. 

Marina never liked Ginny. She would never admit it though. When we graduated from college, we stayed at my parent’s house on the north shore for about a week or so. Emotions were high as they typically are with my family, but with living out of suitcases, and trying to search for decent paying jobs, the liminal space between college, and our first apartment, was spent in a perpetual state of agitation. 

Ginny kept finding her way into Marina’s suitcase and shedding all over her clean underwear. She’d also do this thing that she used to do whenever I had a friend sleepover, which was she’d lay directly on their chest facing them while they slept. In the middle of the night, Marina would wake up trying to catch her breath, and be met by a pair of huge green eyes an inch away from her face. 

One morning it was just me and my dad. My mom had to accompany my nana to her physical, and Marina was in the city for an interview. We were sitting on the porch; he was reading the Boston Globe and I was reading apple news from my iphone. We were exchanging words here and there, when he oh so casually said:

“You know you’re taking the cat right?” 

“What?” I said. He flipped a page of the paper without even looking in my direction.

“Uh-huh.” He muttered.

“Dad, what–why?”

“Because she’s your cat! She’s going to live with you now.”

That was pretty much the extent of the conversation. When I told Marina, she tried to think of every reason it wouldn’t work out.

“What if she gets sick and needs to go to the vet? We don’t have a car. What if it’s too far a train ride and she dies en route?” “You know, now that I think of it I could’ve sworn they said no pets in the lease.” “Wasn’t there a recent study on how litter boxes are actually linked to ovarian cancer?”

Three days later, me, Marina, and Ginny packed into my mom’s Honda, and drove everything we had to our new apartment. I held Ginny on my lap in the back seat, and Marina focused on the road ahead in the front seat. 

And now it’s just me and Ginny. I want to rub the fact that Ginny was able to stick around longer than her in Marina’s face. I want her to know that Ginny and I will always be fine. I look out the window and realize the sun’s gone down. I wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead and neck, and get back to work.

*

I didn’t sleep much last night. When I woke up this morning all the lights were on, and I was still wearing my jeans. About a dozen or so trashbags line the wall in the living room, half labeled trash, half labeled donate. I pour myself a mug of cereal, pour Ginny her food, and think back to the tarot card reading so I can plan my next move. 

 *

“Baggage. You have to leave behind what is no longer serving you to begin a new chapter.” Misty Lana said emphatically. She lifted her finger from the card, and rested her chin on her knuckles. “The 6 of Swords in Reverse. It indicates that you know and have known for some time that this change is necessary. This is a personal journey, and you must embark on it. Privately.” 

*

I went to CVS and picked up some more trash bags, a bag of ChexMix, and refilled my prescriptions for the next month. Now that I’ve left my apartment, I’m noticing how much more I need to get through now that I'm back. 

I’ve been getting caught up on a couple of Marina’s things. Earlier this morning I was cleaning under the bed and I found a big piece of cardboard that she used as a paint pallet. I remembered when we had gotten home from my nana’s funeral a couple years ago. I had probably finished about a bottle of cabernet at the reception, and I still don’t know if it was the wine, the release of emotions, or if I was touched by Marina’s support, but I felt strangely content when we got back home that afternoon. 

“Hold still,” Marina laughed. “Your lips move too much when you sing like that, it’s fucking with the shadow too.” 

I was posed like a Victorian child, gazing soberly by the window, singing “Memory” from Cats in a drunken warble. Marina painted me like one of her French girls, on a big, blank canvas. I watched her wispy, red bangs flutter as she blew air from her bottom lip. Her hand curled around the brush, and I could see her pressing her lips in concentration, smiling slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” Marina said. 

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and laughed. My face felt warm, and my whole body felt light.  

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m just feeling so lucky, it’s just hitting me now.”

She kissed me, and we spent the rest of the night just laying on the floor talking about what could happen for us in life. The next morning, she hung the painting at the top of the purple stairs.

*

“Fuck you Marina. Fuck you.” I say to myself, crumpling the cardboard into the bag. I can feel myself losing steam, so I lay on the floor and close my eyes and start to breathe slowly. “Focus,” I whisper.

*

“Focus!” Misty Lana said. She widened her eyes, and looked deep into mine. I felt like this tiny, concentrated version of myself was waking up inside me after laying dormant my whole life. “It’s time you break from everyday life, and draw your attention inward. There are answers that exist deep in you that you will not find unless you are able to see yourself in plain.”

I nodded. Everything became much more obvious to me. Marina and I were over, it was time to let it go and focus on my true destiny. These feeling of doubt, weren’t to be listened to. 

*

Within the next day or two, nearly every room had been emptied completely. I felt clean and light. Later today, a group of college kids were coming back to collect the rest of my furniture.

*

“How much for all of it?” The spunky blonde asked. She and two of her tall brunette friends were standing in my living room, taking photos of everything. I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. The fact that they wreaked of weed was even kind of endearing.

“Free.” I said.

“Free?! Are you serious?”

“Yeah. It’s all yours, I really need everything gone so.”

“Woah, cool dragon, what about this guy, are you getting rid of him? One of the tall brunettes slurred, holding up Henry.

It was embarrassing how quickly I walked over to take him out of her hands but I couldn’t help it.

“Oh umm he’s actually not mine, I have to return him,” I said. She gave me a confused look. “Sorry,” I mumbled, placing him back on the floor.

“So,” The blonde said, popping her gum, “Where are you headed?”

Marina would have loved to be a part of this. She had a thing for full circle experiences, they made her sentimental. 

“Coney Island.” I said.

“What for?”

“I don’t really know yet.”

*

“You already have everything you need. It’s time to reflect on the bounty you have within you.” Misty Lana said. She pulled out something wrapped in tinfoil and began peeling it back.

The Empress card laid before me. Misty Lana went in depth, on how if I’m able to acknowledge the abundance in my life, I will acquire a new abundance in my journey. 

“Let me ask you something?” She said, revealing the mystery beneath the tinfoil to be a hot dog, and took a big bite.

I nodded. 

With a mouth full she said, “What do you have to lose?”

*

When I envisioned telling her that day, I failed to prepare myself for a few specifics that would unfold shortly after. Like the way all I could do was sit still on the edge of the bed while she cried and cursed me out. Like how the sound of my own voice apologizing would still nauseate me six months later. Like how I hated her for wanting to leave, because it made me realize how stupid I was for truly not believing she would.

“I knew it! I knew it since you came home that night and faced away from me in bed!” Marina was grabbing clothes seemingly at random from the dresser drawers and stuffing them in her big canvas tote that read Life’s A Beach! On the side. She was still in a towel.

When I told her I slept with Anthony, my voice shook so much that I had to repeat it twice for her to understand.I decided earlier that day that I was going to confess when I got home, and I told her right when I got home. I couldn’t even wait until she was done brushing her teeth. She had just gotten out of the shower. We were supposed to see a friend’s band play that night. 

Marina had been meeting all sorts of people working at the new art gallery downtown. She was getting recognized for her own pieces, and I felt like I was constantly falling short in some way. Both having graduated from art school, both sharing our dreams with each other, it was becoming difficult always being the cheerleader. 

Anthony was new at the office and he gave me attention. One night before a networking event, Marina and I got into a huge fight. Anthony and I both ended up taking full advantage of the open bar, and that was pretty much that.

“Go fuck yourself Donna, fuck you!” Marina shouted and slammed the door behind her. It felt like weeks before I got up from the edge of the bed.

*

The sound of my paper cup hitting the counter echoes. I bought my train ticket last night. I called my bank and let them know I’d be traveling. 

“It’s okay Gin.” From her traveling case she lets out a high pitched meow. Seeing my apartment completely bare feels surreal. I almost can’t remember what it looked like before. My suitcase is by the door, my uber is on the way. 

“Where are you??” Anthony texted. I should be leading a meeting right now. “Everyone’s pissed we’re waiting for you to start.”

The nerves begin to set in. Is this really what I want? Am I really basing everything off of a woman named Misty Lana now? I feel the tears coming up. Reality is hitting.

“Marina,” I whisper with a lump in my throat. “Marina, I’m going now. We’re done, we are done. I don’t love you anymore Marina! I’m leaving! And–.”

I look at my phone and see my uber arrived about 3 minutes ago. “Okay,” I say to myself. I pull myself together and head for the door, grabbing my bag and Ginny. I take one more look around the room and that’s when I see it. 

“Henry.” I stop. 

“I am in the bus lane, please hurry.” My Uber driver texted. 

I could just let him drive off. I could make something up to my boss, I could buy new furniture. But I could also not.

I stare at Henry with one foot out the door, and then I text the uber driver.

“Coming!” I type. 

I leap across the room, snatching Henry and holding him in the crux of my elbow. Ginny meows, as I swing her over my shoulder. I slip the keys under the mat, and the door closes behind me.

As we head for the train, I think about what could happen once I get to Coney Island. 

Something. I think to myself. Something will happen. Things happen. They happen all the time.