8 Mangled and Strange (2/2)

”I said no, okay? But I wish you well, dude.” The other guy left without using the facilities.

Did Larry want the phone because he had no car keys and needed a ride? Or because he wanted to call Sam?He breathed heavily, as if in pain. He didn't run the water again.

Finally, he left.

Gemma set the suitcase down. She shook her hands to get the blood circulating again and stretched her arms behind her back. Still in the stall, she counted her money, both pesos and dollars. She checked her wig in her compact mirror.

When she felt certain Larry was gone, Gemma walkedout of the men's room confident, no big thing, and headed for the street. Outside, she pushed through the crowds ofpartiers to a corner and found herself in luck. A taxi pulledup. She jumped in and asked for the Bastion Luxury, the resort that is just 2 minutes from the Sofitel Legend.

At the Bastion Luxury she got a second taxi easily. She asked the new driver to take her to a cheap, locally owned place in town. He brought her to the Cabero Inn.

It was a dive. Cheap walls, dirty paint, plastic furniture, plastic flowers on the counter. Gemma checked in under a falsename and paid the clerk in pesos. He didn't ask for ID.

Up in the room, she used the small coffeemaker to brewa cup of decaf. She put three sugars in. She sat on the edge of the bed.

Did she need to run?

No.

Yes.

No.

Nobody knew where she was. No one on earth. The fact should have made her happy. She had wanted to disappear, after all.

But she felt afraid.

She wished for Paolo. Wished for Willow.

Wished she could undo everything that had happened.

If only she could go back in time, Gemma felt, she would be a better person. Or a different person. She would be more herself. Or maybe less herself. She didn't know which, because she didn't any longer know what shape her own self was, or whether there was really no Gemma at all, but only a series of selves she presented for different contexts.

Were all people like that, with no true self?

Or was it only Gemma?

She didn't know if she could love her own mangled, strange heart. She wanted someone else to do it for her, to see it beating behind her ribs and to say, I can see your true self. It is there, and it is rare and worthy. I love you.

How dark and stupid it was to be mangled and strange, to be no particular shape, to have no self when life was stretching out before her. Gemma had many rare talents. She worked hard and really had so damn much to offer. She knew all that.

So why did she feel worthless at the same time?

She wanted to call Willow. She wished she could hear Will's low laugh and her run-on sentences spilling out secrets. She wished she could say to Willow, I'm scared. And Will would say, But you're brave, Gemma. You're the bravest person I know.

She wished Paolo would come and put his arms around her, telling her as he had once that she was a top-notch, excellent person.

She wanted there to be someone who loved her unconditionally, someone who would forgive her anything. Or better, someone who knew everything already and loved her for it.

Neither Paolo nor Will was capable of that.

Still, Gemma remembered the feel of Paolo's lips on hers, and the smell of Will's jasmine perfume.