Part Twenty Seven: The Home Front
Every day seemed the same, as if it were the rerun of a tiresome TV program
Rahab was trapped into watching. Mike was not terribly sympathetic with her when
she told him this.
"So change the channel," he snapped. "I dunno about you, but
Gaele's still going to school, and I'm off to register her for next fall,
whether the world's gonna end for you or not. She's already missed half a year
of kindergarten, because of this stupid paranoia on Leo's and your part."
Rahab opened her mouth to protest, but was too surprised to think of anything to
say.
Mike went out and slammed the front door. In a few moments he came back in
again. "Uh, Rahab?"
"Really, Mike, there's no need to apologize."
"I'm not. I mean, I would have, but-- I think Don's car just pulled
up." He went back out again.
Rahab wanted to run to the front window to look, but she made herself walk
slowly. Calm is as calm does, Splinter had once told her. Easy for you to say,
Sensei, you aren't going through a divorce.
The front door opened, and Don strode in. His coat looked like he'd slept in it.
He gave Rahab a bland look, then nodded a silent greeting.
"Don," Rahab said faintly. "What can I do for you?" She felt
silly after she said that.
Don gave her another long look. "Thank you, nothing," He walked past
her into the main area of the house.
Rahab stared at his retreating back, feeling flustered. "Gee. Make yourself
at home, Don." She stood trembling, as emotions warred inside of her. She
felt someone touch her on the back, and she jumped. She saw it was Mike, and
exhaled noisily.
"Take it easy, Rahab," he said, as he passed her. He was carrying a
thick, familiar looking envelope. "Raph's not here."
"He's not here," Rahab muttered. "So what else is new?"
Mike held up the envelope before letting it rest on the table with a resounding
thud. "I believe this is for you."
"What is it?" Rahab approached the kitchen table.
"I dunno, Don just handed it to me, and--"
"It's your divorce papers," Don interrupted, as he slung his coat on a
nearby chair. "Raphael signed all of them, there's no contest, you get full
custody of Devon, etcetera... however, there's nothing by way of property, since
I basically own everything."
"What is that supposed to mean," Rahab demanded, walking toward him,
hands on her hips.
"It means I basically own everything," Don repeated calmly, as he went
to the sink to rinse out a cup, and pour himself a drink from the refrigerator
dispenser.
"You don't own me," Rahab countered, hackles rising.
Don stared at her from over his cup. "No, but please keep in mind, I own
this house."
"You think I don't know that?"
"Uh, Rahab-" Mike started to say.
"Stay out of this, Mike," Rahab snapped. "Fine, Don, so you own
the house. Big whoop de doo. That's just fine with me."
Don ignored her outburst. "Mike, have you seen Leo?" He settled into
the nearest recliner.
"He's probably on a meditation run... something like that." He grinned
at Don's narrow expression.
"Meditation run?" Don repeated slowly. "He's supposed to be
looking after the house."
"Oh, is he a servant of yours, too?" Rahab broke in. "Is
everybody your servant, Don? Just who the hell do you think you are, barging in
like this?"
"I would appreciate you not addressing me in that tone of voice," Don
said smoothly to his cup. "I'm not in the mood to play your games."
Rahab glared at him a moment, but he didn't look up. She turned and grabbed the
envelope on the table, and rifled through its contents. She saw Raphael's
signature slashed across the notarized documents. Her eyes unfocused as she set
them down again.
It's true, she thought. It's official, it's over. She slowly walked to the
bar, and got out a glass and an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels, and set them on
the counter.
"What are you doing?" Mike asked, mouth ajar.
She turned around to face him and raised the amber filled glass. "I'm
celebrating the death of a marriage. Care to join me?" She raised the glass
to her lips, and downed the contents. Rahab blinked back the tears caused by the
strong drink, and gasped for breath, as she reached for the bottle, and poured
another. She drank it quickly and managed to pour yet another glass before Mike
took the bottle out of her hand.
"Not a good idea, Rahab. You're going to make yourself very sick," he
said gently.
"Give me the bottle, Mike." Rahab said, feeling surprisingly calm.
Mike shook his head, and glanced at Don, who looked apathetic.
"Give me the bottle," Rahab repeated. She said it several times, as
Mike continued to shake his head, and hold the bottle to his chest.
"You're no good," she said in disgust, and set the now empty glass
down as hard as she could.
She glared at Don as she passed him, and continued into the atrium. She started
to feel odd, and nearly lost her balance. She knelt on the couch, and laid her
head on the low back, as she felt the effects of the whiskey seeping into her
brain, making her legs turn to rubber, and her head heavy. Her stomach churned
and she groaned, but at least the knot of anxiety was melting away into
numbness. She heard voices talking, back and forth, back and forth, talking
about her, but she didn't care what they were saying. She became terribly tired,
and promptly fell asleep.
When she woke, she was in her bed. She stretched and rolled over, and
instantly regretted it, because her head spun, and she felt a tremendous wave of
nausea. She sat up and vomited all over the comforter. Disgusted, she peeled the
covers away from her and stumbled to the bathroom, and spewed again on the
floor. She blindly climbed into the jacuzzi, and half sat, half lay in the tub,
moaning softly from the pounding in her head.
"Aw, gross," she heard somebody exclaim in the next room. "Geez,
Rahab..." Mike's voice entered the bathroom. "You haven't drowned,
have you?"
"I wish," Rahab muttered, one hand clamped over her eyes.
She heard him curse under his breath about the bathroom floor, as he went out
again.
Rahab drifted in and out of various states of semi-consciousness, and when she
opened her eyes again, Mike's face was hovering over her, with a mixed
expression mixture of disgust and amusement.
"Lady, I'm sure right tired of picking up after you," he drawled, and
then grinned.
"What, you like to watch people take baths?"
Mike laughed. "Well, in your case it's kinda funny to see you wallowing in
there with all your clothes on."
Rahab stared at herself, and realized with dismay she was still dressed in the
clothes from the night before. She groaned. "Why didn't you say
something?"
"I just did. Hey, look on the bright side. At least nobody took liberties
with you."
"Very funny. Very very funny, Mr. Michael Angelo."
"Hmm. You never call me that." He laid something cool on her head.
"Here ya go, a cold pack for your head and some ginger root tea for your
poor, abused body." She heard his voice rise over her as he got up.
"When you get a chance, peel those outer layers off and toss 'em out, and
I'll drop them in the laundry for you. Okay?"
"Yes, massah..." Rahab murmured.
Mike sniggered as he left the bathroom. "Rahab, the-laugh-a-minute
lady."
"No, I'm not," Rahab said half to herself, holding the pack over her
eyes.
Later, after the worst of the hangover had worn off, Rahab came out into the
kitchen to bring her teacup back. She yawned mightily, and trembled at a sudden
chill. She looked out the window and could see Mike out with Gaele and Devon,
and they were giggling and rolling with him in the sand. She watched a while,
feeling terribly sad, and shuffled to the nearest kitchen chair and sat down.
Her head sank into her folded arms that rested on the table.
"Good afternoon, Rahab," she heard Leo's soft voice nearby. She looked
groggily at him. He was holding Seth, who calmly looked at her, thumb in mouth.
"How are you feeling?"
She yawned. "Incredibly tired, as though I could sleep for weeks. Is Seth
all right? He seems awfully quiet."
"We just got back from a long walk, he rode on my neck, and I brought a
bottle with me, which he took without any trouble. He must have been pretty
thirsty."
Seth turned and nuzzled the base of Leo's throat, and closed his eyes.
"He's taking to you pretty well, isn't he?"
"Yes, I believe he is. He's also very sleepy." Leo smiled gently at
her, and took Seth to his room.
Rahab stared moodily into space, her chin propped on her hands. She felt the air
stir, and she snapped her head around, startled. Don was standing in the
kitchen, in a gray bathrobe, carefully pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Ah! Don," Rahab exclaimed, pressing her hands against her now
pounding chest.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as he fixed himself some
breakfast. When he sat at the table opposite her, he took a sip from his cup and
looked at her.
"Don't ask me how I'm feeling," she said.
"I won't, then."
She watched him eat, and butter his bread with the precision of a surgeon. Not a
crumb dropped to the table. When he finished, he set his flatware in the exact
center of his plate and folded his napkin, and placed it over the top of the
plate.
"So, Don... bury any bodies, lately?"
Don frowned at her, but she wasn't smiling. He studied her for a moment, one
eyebrow lowered, and took another careful sip from his cup. "Why did you
ask me that, Rahab?"
"Because... you have that odd kind of detachment about you, that I saw
after that incident in New York."
"What incident?"
"You know, Croton?"
"Oh, that," he said tonelessly. He was silent a moment. Rahab could
see the sadness in his eyes.
"You were pretty cold to me yesterday. I thought it might have been to do
with the divorce, and that you were overtired."
"Yes, I was overtired. But the divorce has nothing to do with me."
"Except that you were quick to notify me that I get zip in any sort of
assets, and probably a big goose egg for child support."
Don shook his head. "There will be no child support beyond what Devon is
receiving now. He will always be provided for... and so will you. You have
nothing to be concerned about, financially."
"What do I have to give in return?"
"Nothing. Take care of your children, Rahab, and take care of
yourself."
"When Raph was notified of the divorce, was he... very upset?"
Don sat back in his chair. "If he was, he didn't show it. He was somewhat
distracted by the job at hand. Maybe it hasn't hit him yet... maybe he's beyond
caring at the moment."
"Is he-- where is he?" Rahab asked hesitantly.
"I left him in New York." Don shifted forward in his seat. "The
best thing for you to do is not worry about him, all right? I think you should
pick yourself up and go on with your life, and enjoy your children while they
are small. They are your assets, and in my opinion, worth far more than all that
I own."
Rahab looked at him, and then nodded absently. "Okay, but I want you to
know something. I am not happy about getting divorced. It's just that I think it
might be better for everyone in the long run."
"I agree. It might be best for Raphael, since I've had the opportunity to
observe him in a close setting."
"What... was he like?"
Don leaned his elbows on the table and looked carefully at her. "He's just,
ah, emotionally bankrupt," he said after a silent moment.
"Oh," Rahab said faintly. "I see." Rahab saw the envelope
was still on the table, and pulled the sheaf of papers out again. She studied
Raphael's obviously hasty signature on the top sheet. He usually wrote in a
spiky, haphazard fashion, using mostly uppercase letters. His signatures started
out with the vague resemblance of an 'R', followed by a nearly flat coastline
that tapered off, then suddenly turned in at a sharp angle and came back nearly
to the starting point, somewhere under the 'R'. Like a skinny, legless iguana
looking over its back, Rahab mused.
She looked to see Don pressing his brows with his fingers, his palms covering
his eyes. He breathed in sharply through his teeth, and let his breath slowly
out again in a soft hiss.
"Are you okay," Rahab asked him.
He eventually lowered his hands, and opened his eyes. "I'm fine," he
said softly. He seemed to look through her, with half closed lids, and then
rolled his head back to flex his neck. "Just a minor anxiety attack."
"Oh. You get those too, huh?" Rahab nodded. "I thought I was the
only one."
He leveled out to look at her. "No, you are not the only one." He
reached under his robe to knead the scarred deltoid muscle of his right arm, an
odd light in his eyes. "Sometimes things remind me of... certain bad
days."
"I'm sorry if I offended you, last night," Rahab said, watching him.
Don smiled. "No offense taken, Rahab. I found it somewhat amusing. You must
have proposed to Mike a dozen times before he picked you up and carried you to
your room."
Rahab's eyes grew round. "What?"
"You don't recall?"
"No, I-I dont." Rahab's mouth refused to shut, she was so flustered.
Don chuckled a little. "The last thing you said was something along the
lines of; 'Mikey, darling, carry me to our wedding bed!' I have to tell you, I
lost my composure, then, I went to bed, still laughing."
"I said that?"
"Rahab, do you drink often?" Don asked, thoughtfully tapping his chin
with a forefinger.
"No," she sighed. "Pretty obvious, isn't it?"
Don shrugged a little. His amusement faded. "It hurts to end a marriage, I
know. Whether by divorce or death... it hurts." He laid his hands over his
eyes again, and left them there, as he propped his elbows on the table.
"Were you married?" Rahab wondered belatedly whether she should pursue
the subject, when Don was in such a sensitive mood.
"Yes," he said through his hands. He slowly pulled them down his face,
and lowered them to the table top. He looked at his hands resting there, as
though waiting for them to do something else. "I mentioned her once, if you
recall."
"Would that be Bara?"
Don was inspecting his fingernails for imperfections that didn't exist. "Do
you know what Bara means in Japanese?" he asked at length.
"I don't know."
"Rose. A rose by any other name, is still a rose," he said, exhaling
in a sigh. "I was so enthralled by the beauty of this rose, and her
intoxicating scent, I forgot about... the thorns." His voice faded on the
last two words.
"Nobody's perfect," Rahab said lamely.
Don nodded slightly in agreement. Rahab could see his composure was
deteriorating, and she felt a wave of discomfort and pity for him. He cradled
his head in his forearms. "She's still here," he whispered.
Rahab looked up to see Leo standing beside the table. He gestured silently for
her to get up, and she did so, following him outside. Mike was sitting on the
lawn next to the swings, with Devon in his lap, and Gaele draped over his
shoulder. They were engrossed in a book.
"Is Don okay," Rahab asked Leo. Out of the corner of her eye she saw
Mike look over at her.
"He has his spells," Leo said. "It has been a very stressful time
for him these past few months, but he rides through them all right."
"I didn't know he was married."
Leo nodded.
Rahab stole another glance at Mike, who had gone back to his reading of the
book. She felt a wave of guilt and self consciousness at what Don had told her.
She must have sounded pretty stupid...
Leo had said something to her.
"I'm sorry, what?" she said. looking at him.
"You look a lot better," Leo repeated.
"Thanks, I feel better." Not knowing why, she giggled and punched
Leo's shoulder playfully. "I appreciate your concern."
Leo smiled in uncertainty at her sudden burst of friendliness. She smiled back.
She stole another glance at Mike, but he wasn't looking
That evening, Mike approached her, and took her by the arm out to the patio.
Unsure of what he wanted, she reluctantly went along.
"Interesting turn of events," Mike said, when they were alone.
"What do you mean?"
Mike squinted at her. "Don't play innocent with me, sweetheart. What were
you doing this afternoon, making a lame attempt at flirting with Leo? I didn't
want to say anything, but it's becoming apparent that you are playing a game
that I don't approve of."
"Why not?" Rahab folded her arms. "I mean, do I have to do things
you approve of?"
"No. But if you're doing it to get my attention--"
"How do you know I was doing it to get your attention," Rahab
interrupted.
"If you are doing it to get my attention, it won't work," Mike
repeated. "You don't have to play any kind of head game to get my
attention, you already have it. I'm raising your kids, for gods' sake. Doesn't
that tell you something?"
"All right, then why are you upset?"
"I'm not upset, I'm concerned. I don't think it's a good idea play around
with Leo like that. You're going to make him feel uncomfortable."
Rahab was silent.
"Why are you doing it?" Mike asked in an gentler voice.
"Because I'm embarrassed around you, Mike. Don told me what I said to you
the other night, and I don't remember saying it, that's all. I feel really
stupid."
Mike laughed suddenly, causing her to jump. "D'you think I took you
seriously? You were wasted! Geez, I couldn't begin to tell you the stupid stuff
I've said at parties."
"You? I've never seen you get drunk," Rahab said in surprise.
Mike snorted. "It's just as well, because whenever I have, I'm a total
doofus. They've written whole dialogues on the crap I've come up with when I was
half in the bag, can you imagine? And then there was those tribal dudes from
Nogales who brought some of their homegrown rattlesnake spit- Yayzum, what a
trip THAT was. I thought I was never going to be the same again."
"Rattlesnake spit?" Rahab asked, puzzled.
Mike sniggered. "It's uhm, a kind of Tequila. Made with a certain kind of
cactus. You don't wanna know. I sure wish I hadn't, anyway. The point is,
Rahab," he went on, "We all say and do things we wish we hadn't. Only
some people won't let you forget it. I've been branded as a party animal ever
since then. But you know better, dont'cha?"
"I'm not so sure," Rahab said doubtfully.
"Oh, come on," Mike protested. "Since Gaele's come around, the
parties have basically ended. It's all behind me. Hey, it was just a big act. It
really was. An act."
"When are you not putting on an act, Mike?"
Mike didn't answer.
"You still throw parties, and have those-those girlie magazine models
hanging around your house-"
"What's wrong with that?"
"Tell me something, Mike," Rahab said, pointing a forefinger at Mike's
chest. "If Gaele were dating, would you want her to go out with somebody
like you? On a motorcycle, wearing all that leather... and that awful jacket?
Mike didn't answer.
"Gaele said she wants to be just like you. Not like me, like you,"
Rahab said quietly.
"Maybe because she sees more of me than you."
"Maybe because you're more fun to be around."
"Maybe... because you have two other kids to raise that aren't mine."
"Let's not start that again."
Mike sighed, and looked up at her. "It's the truth, isn't it? Listen, I'm
not trying to be a smartass, I'm trying to be honest, here. I came outside here
to talk to you."
"Isn't that what we're doing?"
Mike stood closer to her. "Naw. I want to talk to you. You know... talk."
Rahab looked up into his face. He smiled his own version of a transparent smile.
"So, talk," Rahab said, trying to sound nonchalant, in spite of the
weirdness she felt at his close proximity. She looked at his shoulders. He
seemed bigger, lately...
"Aren't you gonna listen to me?"
"Uh... yeah," Rahab said absently.
"We can't continue on like what you've been doing lately, Rahab. It's not
good for the kids. It's not good for them to see their mother trying to act like
a bimbo cheesecake, even though I know for a fact that you're not."
"Huh! Maybe one of your old girlfriends could give me a few pointers,
then."
"Look, no offense intended, but I just want to remind you that it's
important for the kids-- especially Gaele-- that her parents behave in a
respectable way."
"What are you saying, Mike?"
"I'm saying that maybe you and I should get hitched before anything more
starts happening between us."
"What?" Rahab's jaw dropped. Then she closed it again. "You
making fun of me, aren't you? After what I said last night?"
"No," Mike said emphatically. "What you said kind of brought
things to the surface, that's all. Got me to thinking."
"Thinking? That's pretty dangerous for you, isn't it?"
"Rahab, I'm serious about this. Maybe you've forgotten what you and I
talked about that night you couldn't sleep, remember? You were practically
begging for some action. You're standing here now, all dewy eyed, hoping maybe
I'll scoop you up and carry you off somewhere nice and quiet. Aren't you?"
Rahab squinted at him. "Yeah, right! Give me a break," she retorted,
expecting him to laugh it off. When he didn't, she got quiet. "Sorry. I
didn't mean it that way. I meant... that maybe I do have feelings for you, but
maybe it's because I'm lonely and scared."
"I know you're lonely and scared. You don't have to be, you know."
"I'm not in any shape to get married right now, Mike. Not to anybody."
"But it's okay if you want to mess around with peoples’ heads, right?
Until you come to your senses? Then it's off to la-la land? Have you had any of
those funny little dreams lately to let you know who's next in line to be a
dad?"
She wanted to slap him, but decided against it. Her thoughts bounced from one
emotion to another, as she covered her face in her hands. "Stop it, Mike,
just stop," she whispered.
Mike sighed. "Sorry. It’s the biggest mouth that catches the most
flies," he muttered. "Which is great if you're a frog."
His comment made Rahab catch her breath, then laugh aloud. "It's so hard to
stay mad at you," she gasped when she recovered. "A frog... what are
you trying to do, turn me into a lunatic?"
"No," Mike said with a mild chuckle. "You already have done that
to me."
"I have, uh?" Rahab looked skeptically at him.
"Yeah..." he said softly.
He started to say something else, but a foreign expression clouded his face, and
his eyes grew round as he snapped his head up to look at the sky. He turned and
threw Rahab to the ground, and leaped over her in the direction of the back
lawn.
Too surprised to react, Rahab lay prone behind a wall of potted lemon trees, and
spat dirt out of her mouth. Suddenly she was flattened by a tremendous shock
wave, and she felt the trees land hard across her back. Then hands were on her,
frantically feeling her head and neck, pulling away the debris.
She looked up, and saw Leo and Don bent over her, their mouths moving, but she
could not hear them. Leo's eyes blazed as he leaped up and ran in the same
direction Mike had gone, and Don looked anxiously around, as he helped Rahab to
her feet and half dragged her into the house. She stumbled over her own feet,
confused, and shook her head to try to stop the roaring in her ears. Don led her
by the arm to Gaele's room, and she could see Gaele sitting up in her bed, in
the dark. Don picked her up, and then they went to Devon's room. Devon was
crouched in the closet, his mouth open in a wail that Rahab could not hear. Don
swept Devon up onto his other arm, and by then, Rahab got the idea, and she
headed for Seth's room. Seth was standing up in his crib, wide-eyed, and he
promptly reached for her as she picked him up. She followed Don into the
windowless utility room, and he moved boxes and bags to create a space for all
of them to sit, behind the shelves. He handed her a flashlight, then he started
to head out the door.
"No," she tried to yell, but she wasn't sure, because she couldn't
hear herself. Don turned and lightly put his hand on her mouth to quiet her. She
watched his face, as he gestured for her to sit still.
She shook her head vigorously. He quickly pantomimed that he was going to be
right outside the door, and she reluctantly nodded in agreement. He gave her
cheek a reassuring pat, and went out.
She settled back, and looked at the frightened faces of her children staring up
at her. It won't do to act scared in front of them, Rahab thought. She smiled at
them and gathered them to her. She found comfort in their clinging limbs and
warm little bodies, and she relaxed a little, as she petted their heads. Her
frantic thoughts slowed, and sorted themselves into some rational order, though
the noise in her ears did not stop.
Somebody tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up to see Gaele talking,
probably asking questions, but Rahab put a finger to her lips. Devon opened his
mouth, until Don stuck his head through the door and said something that made
the kids shrink into stillness. Even Devon lowered his head without protest. Don
must have told them something pretty serious. But what was happening, another
attack? Leo had said it wouldn't happen here. Rahab took a deep breath and let
it out slowly, to control the trembling. Seth's eyes were squeezed shut, and his
mouth was round, and Rahab quickly brought him closer, and arranged her shirt to
let him nurse. His four new teeth made her wince, reminding her that the time to
wean him was drawing near. He was getting used to the bottle, and Leo... she
suddenly felt sad, and hoped fervently nothing would bad would happen. She tried
not to think of Mike, but she couldn't block out the nagging fear that the
explosion might have killed him. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the
wall.
Next section... Rahab
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