Red Leaves

The dog got down sheepishly. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be on the bed.

Sitting next to Albert, Kristina rubbed his leg. ‘What are you going to tell Conni?’

He looked sullen. His black eyes were sunken in his face, as they always were after a night of little sleep. His pale face with huge black eyes made him look slightly cadaverous.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’ll think of something.’

Kristina, unsmiling inside or out, said, ‘I’m sure you will. Tell her you fell asleep in your room.’

‘Rocky, you’ll never make a convincing liar. What, and didn’t hear her make a public nuisance of herself? Yeah, good.’

Kristina looked outside into the blue post-dawn darkness. It looked very cold. She felt bad for Conni, standing outside their door, banging, fearing the worst, being lied to.

Albert said, ‘I’m going to tell her you hadn’t walked Aristotle and I went to walk him. I’ll tell her I went through the woods to Frankie’s and was so tired I fell asleep there.’

‘What if she called Frankie?’

‘Frankie doesn’t pick up his phone after midnight.’

‘What if she went to see Frankie?’

‘She didn’t. She wouldn’t.’

‘Well, aren’t you going to have to inform Frankie of your little plan?’

‘Yeah, it’s not a problem.’

‘Oh, I see. Frankie is a stooge for you, isn’t he?’

‘Not a stooge, just my friend,’ Albert said, getting up off the bed and eyeing her grimly. ‘What’s gotten into you?’

Kristina shook her head, feeling worse and worse. ‘Nothing, I just…’ What had happened to starting over? Starting a new life? Hadn’t she been beginning to do that yesterday? Wasn’t that what she had told herself?

‘Conni will believe it, you’ll see.’ Albert took Aristotle’s leash and fitted it over the dog’s head. ‘Remember, she wants to believe it. Why would she want to hear the truth? What’s she going to do with the truth? That’s the most important thing to remember. All I have to do is let her believe what she wants to believe in the first place. It’s that simple.’

Getting off the bed, Kristina said bleakly, ‘Is it that simple? It’s really the dumbest excuse.’

He shrugged. ‘So think of a better one.’

Picking up her books off the table, Kristina said, ‘We can’t do this, Albert. I can’t do this.’

He came to her. ‘You say that now…’ he drawled suggestively, running his free hand over her back.

‘I mean it.’ She pushed him off her. ‘I just - I can’t do this anymore. I’m starting to hate myself, and -’ She broke off.

‘And what?’

‘Nothing.’

‘And? You’re starting to hate me?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to.’ His black eyes blazed. She backed off, not used to seeing his rare temper.

“I gotta go,’ Kristina said.

He shrugged. ‘Where’s your coat?’

‘Fahrenbrae.’

‘Ahhh,’ said Albert. ‘So take my jacket.’

‘What about you?’

‘I’ve got two.’ He unlocked her door and peeked outside. ‘All clear,’ he whispered and walked quickly down the hall to his room. She followed him.

‘I can’t take your jacket,’ Kristina said. ‘Jim or Conni is going to see me wearing it, and what am I supposed to say then?’

‘Make up something clever.’

‘Yeah? Oh, I left my coat up at this place Albert and I shack up at, and then he let me borrow his.’

‘No, something cleverer than that.’

She sighed deeply. ‘I’ll see you, Albert.’

He studied her for a moment. ‘I’ll see you tonight,’ he said, handing her his brown leather jacket. She shook her head and backed away toward the glass doors that led to the side stairs.

‘Rock,’ Albert called after her, almost as an afterthought. ‘Happy birthday.’

She nodded, unsmiling.

‘Will you at least think about Canada?’ he asked her.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Kristina smiled ruefully at him.

The glass door slammed shut behind her.

After her last class, Kristina had basketball practice, then showered and went to her car. Her long hair was still wet when she got in and started up the car. The Mustang coughed and spluttered for a few moments.

Nice car, she thought, trying to goad it on. Come on, come on, nice, dear, sweet car. I’m gonna take care of you when you get sick. You’re my friend. You’re nice, come on. And then the engine finally began to run smoothly. Kristina closed her eyes, thank God. You piece-of-shit car.

Someone knocked loudly on her window. Kristina opened her eyes. Conni stepped back, her arms folded.

Oh, no, Kristina thought, rolling the window partway down.

‘Hi, Conn, what’s up?’ she said. ‘I’m late.’