blood of a marionette

Sorry that the format is weird.  I don’t know how to fix that.  And sorry that Saturday morning isn’t Friday.

            Lazarus jumped out of bed, “Hold on one second, babe.  I know we have an important conversation coming.  Just give me two minutes.”

            “Uhh, okay,” Jessica said and pulled the covers up around her waist. 

            He dashed out of the room half dressed and into the cold rain of the last days of November.  It was a dreary morning, with any hope of nice weather crushed by the presence of overbearing grey stratus clouds.  The rain raised gooseflesh all over his exposed torso. 

            Using Scarlett’s keys that he had grabbed on the way out, he fumbled with door locks, muttering, “Come on.  Come on.”

            Lazarus opened the door and when a quick visual scan did not reveal the journal, he started a more rigorous search.  There was nothing in the glove box, except an owner’s manual and some old looking pens.  Under the passenger seat were a crushed of box of tissues and a pink umbrella.  The space under the driver’s seat was empty. 

            “Damn, I know I left it in the car.”

            He slumped back to the apartment, where Scarlett was waiting with a towel.

            “What were you looking for?” she asked, as she guided him back inside to the living room sofa. 

            “It was Harry’s journal.  Remember when you found it in your car.  It was a beat up looking thing, Harry left after I dropped him off at the airport.”

            “Oh yeah, that thing.  I put it in the glove compartment.”

            Lazarus pulled down the comforter resting on the top of the sofa and wrapped it around Scarlett and himself.

            “Well,” he said, “it’s gone now.”

            She stroked his head, “Was it important?”

            “Yeah, Harry called asking about it.  He sounded scared, and I’ve never heard him be scared before.  Harry asked about the journal and mentioned a guy named Benjamin.”

            Scarlett paled, but Lazarus was too busy looking at his hands.

            “After that,” he continued, “there was a crash and the line went dead.  I tried to call it back, but it didn’t work.”

            “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she said, “From what you have told me about him, he always is okay and manages to pop in and out of your life at unexpected times.”

            “Yea, I guess so.”

            Underneath the covers, Scarlett stretched her legs out crossing them at the ankles and laid them across Lazarus’s lap.

            “Remember how we were going to have that important conversation this morning before you ran out into the rain?  I think we should still have it.”

            Lazarus stared at her.  He started to wring his hands.

            “I’ll save you the trouble of going first,” she said, “I forgive you for going into my apartment without asking me.  I really shouldn’t need to, since I gave you a key.  It was also kind of absurd that we had never gone there before.  I mean, let’s see.  How do I put this?”

            He watched and waited.  Scarlett uncrossed and crossed her legs again, making the covers squirm like snakes.

            “Okay.  We never went to my place because it reminded me too much of Samantha.  Every time I went in there, I would see her on the sofa or the bed or in the kitchen.  It was a relationship which I had never experienced before.  When she left, she didn’t even say good-bye, and then I met you.  It was only a year later, when Pyrle suggested that I start early and find a “mentee,” so when I found you, I was not in a good place emotionally.”

            “You never showed it,” Lazarus said.

            “I know.  You have no idea how hard that was.  Plus, you weren’t the easiest person to get along with.”

            Lazarus blushed.

            “But I started sleeping better at night,” Scarlett continued, “And started even to like you.  Now that we’ve been together for a while, those feelings I have for you are as strong, if not stronger, than what I had with Samantha.  It’s like a patch was put over my heart.  It is healed, but I will always feel the outline of the patch.  Does that make sense?”

            Lazarus nodded, “I’m sorry about going to your place uninvited.”

            “It’s okay,” she said, “It was good to finally get everything off my chest for once.”

            “Yeah.  Do you want breakfast?  I’ll make you some eggs, after I get out of the shower.  I need to warm up.”

            “Sure,” she said.

            Lazarus got up and disappeared into the bedroom.  She then heard the water running.  Lazarus’s phone beeped on the kitchen table, and Scarlett got up to get a glass of orange juice.  She looked down at the phone as she passed and stopped.  It said there was a new text message from Amelia.  Looking over to the bedroom, she picked up the phone and read the message.  It said, “Let’s do it tonight.  11 a.m.  My place.”

            “I’m glad I got everything off my chest,” she said to herself, “Well almost, and I guess you didn’t either.  I wish I had told you about the offer Pyrle made to start at the firm a semester early.  Perhaps it’s best I didn’t.”

            She closed the phone and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

                      Chapter 16                                                            Chapter 18