The Pisces
Page 32

“But you’re just a boy,” I said.
“I’m not Sappho-old but I’m older than you think. The salt has preserved me. Also, maybe I’m immature.”
He kissed me on the forehead and on the hand. Then he dove back into the water, parting the seaweedy murk.
“Wait!” I called. “What time in two nights from now?”
But he was already swimming out into the sunlit waves. I saw a few flicks of his tail on the surface, like a dolphin fin in the distance. Then he disappeared completely, fully submerged under the water. He was showing me what he was, no longer afraid for me to see that he could go under and not come up for breath. I waited a long time in silence. But he never resurfaced.
31.
I decided to skip group. I was too deeply involved with Theo now. What would I even tell them? I’d met a merman who might disprove all of their theories about love? And why would I choose to recover unless everything was total and complete shit? If there was one sparkle, one possibility of getting as high as I could get off a person, why would I throw that potentiality away? You had to hold out for these moments until you knew for sure they were gone and never coming back. I didn’t want group to ruin the way I felt.
I saw this in Diana, with whom I still spoke. She had been in pain but couldn’t surrender—not until she knew it was truly over between her and the objects of her affection. It wasn’t enough for the tennis boys to ignore her texts. They would have to go further. They would have to tell her she disgusted them and it was never happening again. Even that might not be enough. In truth what she needed was to have no remaining options at all, no one left to fuck. She would have to burn through all of the tennis boys in Los Angeles, maybe in the state of California.
Perhaps again in the future, the pain of not hearing from her conquests—the pain of waiting—would outweigh the potential for sparkle itself. Diana would come back to group and get strong for just a day or for a few weeks. But the moment she got a text, the moment that glitter reached out to her, she would forget what that pain had felt like. She would want only the glitter. Euphoric recall of past glitter would blind her to the suffering it had caused. Then, the group would become just an afterthought: a place for sick people to go, but not for her. She was not so bad off as the sick people.
When she called me I could hear it in her voice. Who could blame her? Somehow she had gotten another taste of sparkle. Now that she had a taste or saw its potential she was going for it again. When she looked back at the group she saw sick, miserable humans, something she would want to block out having ever been a part of. But the women in the group would see her as the sick, miserable one. They thought she would either come back or face devastation. But they’d forgotten the sensation of what it was like out there, to be in the throes of madness. I didn’t tell Diana about Theo, either.
I took Dominic for a quick walk. He began pulling me in the direction of Oakwood Park, but I didn’t have the energy for it. I held the leash tightly as he yanked and skipped in place, whimpering with his head pointing in that direction. I knew that I should give him what he wanted, a little piece of that effortless happiness, but I couldn’t play wolf woman today. My mind was too much elsewhere, already on the rocks, waiting, waiting for Theo to surface and transform my perception. My mind was already in the ocean.
I decided I would call Claire.
“How are you doing, dearest?” I asked.
“I’m better,” she said. “David called. I’m seeing him tomorrow. I told him he isn’t giving me enough of what I need. I haven’t hung myself from any silk scarves. So I guess that’s progress?”
“Good,” I said.
“And you?”
“I’ve done it again,” I said. “I’ve fallen hard. Only this time I think it’s real.”
“The surfer?” asked Claire.
She sounded skeptical, and I wondered what right she had to be skeptical when she had just been in a bottomless pit.
“Swimmer,” I said. “All we do is talk. Or all we did was talk until last night when he went down on me for forty-five minutes.”
“Nooooo,” she said.
“Yes. At least forty-five. What does it mean when a boy goes down on you for forty-five minutes? I feel like it has to be love. Like, I feel like he loves me.”
“Either he loves you or he loves pussy. One of the two.”
I laughed.
“No, he doesn’t seem like that. He isn’t a pussy hound. Well, I can’t tell. I mean, I think he is gorgeous, but he isn’t typically gorgeous. But if I think he is gorgeous then probably a million others do too.”
“Usually that’s the way it works,” she said. “Still, I’m glad you’re getting shagged properly. It’s important. I think it’s very important that you be well fucked.”
“We haven’t fucked yet,” I said. “I haven’t even seen his dick.”
“Oh really?” she said. “Then it could be love on his part.”
“That’s what I think,” I said.
“But what about you?”
“I’m smitten,” I said.
“Of course you are. It’s especially intoxicating when there is an expiration date. Aren’t you going back to Phoenix in a month?”
“Six weeks,” I said.
“Well, there you go. That makes it perfect! A summer romance.”
“But what if it’s more? He doesn’t know I’m leaving,” I said.
“But you do,” she said.
I thought about this. All I imagined I wanted was the love of someone beautiful like Theo—the kind of love where it stayed young and glittery and never got old. One way to keep it shiny was to have an end date on it. I’d thought it was Jamie who didn’t want to commit. But the group was right—it was me who was really the unavailable one. I was picking people with whom I couldn’t have that ultimate intimacy: Jamie, who couldn’t make enough room for me in his life, and now these younger men. Their age made it safe to pine for them, to torture myself, because it ensured I would always be pushing against some sort of friction, an inability to really be together. And no matter what any of them felt for me, I would never have to see it grow old, because I would be returning to Phoenix. Even in the case of Theo, where he seemed to actually like me, I would be leaving. I was in control of the way things would end.
32.
Dominic was not doing well. He had started peeing indoors no matter how often I took him outside. I didn’t know if it was because he was sick or because he was angry at me for being away so much. I was afraid to tell Annika what was going on, but just to be safe I took him to the vet. The vet ran some blood tests and said that it was further issues related to his pancreas and kidneys, and that his blood sugar was very high. His insulin dose would have to be increased.
I emailed Annika, in part to relay the news, but also because I couldn’t afford to pay the $1,300 vet bill. I was scared. Immediately my phone lit up.
“Where is he? Put him on,” she said.
“He’s right here,” I said, aiming the phone at his face.
“Oh no, I can see it in his eyes. Something is not right.”
“They gave me a higher dose of insulin to give him.”
“I mean besides that. He looks depressed. Hold on, I’m looking up depression symptoms in dogs. Okay. Is he lethargic? Has he been sleeping excessively or showing signs of clinginess?”