Tristessa & Lucido

Prospect

While she powders her nose in the restroom at Jo Jo's Grill, you survey the bar. The two of you have been here since half-past ten this evening and it's definitely time to go. The crowd here is getting rowdy with alcohol. The music is crap and your head is beginning to thump in time to the beat. The Princess isn't going to find a new boyfriend here, and the last thing you need is for her to get bored and restless. You have watched her like a mother hen all evening, thinking you are more aware than she is of the sparrow hawks that circle her, the foxes and the wild dogs that slaver at the thought of her juicy bones. On nights like this, you count her drinks, and gauge her drunkenness and remind her to slow down or to have a glass of water when you see she might be nearing some sort of danger zone.

She returns and as she sits down, a young man approaches.

'What are you drinking?' he asks her.

Before she can answer, you say 'We're just leaving, actually'.

He looks at you, then at her. She shrugs. You rise out of your chair. She picks up her purse and starts to rummage around in it for a cigarette. You sit down again.

'You could stay for one more drink,' he says. 'Come sit with me and my friends.' He points over to where they are sitting.

You both look over to the group he indicates and after a moment's assessment the Princess looks at you, one eyebrow raised. There is a moment's pause and then, simultaneously, the two of you give each other a tiny shake of the head, and burst out giggling. Not surprisingly, he goes back to his friends.

You help the Princess on with her coat and guide her out the door and to the car. She sways provocatively in that way she has that draws the eyes of every man in every bar.

The swaying has an effect on you too. It makes you feel faint embarrassment, and disgust at the openly lustful stares that she attracts. None of the leering is for you. Sometimes you are hypersensitive to all the differences between you–the things that make her desirable to all who see her and the things you have that can be discovered only with a little time and effort.

Outside, a cold Nebraska wind is blowing. The wind that gives new meaning to the term wind chill factor. And yet tonight is not so bad. There's snow coming so the air is relatively warm. On the coldest windy days here in the wintry Mid-West of America, the weather channel reminds viewers to ensure that exposed flesh is covered in winds like this.

With arms linked, the two of you walk quickly over to your car, taking care not to slip on the ice as you go. As you drive out of the parking lot, she lights the cigarette she finally found in the packet at the bottom of her purse. When she speaks, she sounds surprisingly sober.

'Thanks for looking after me,' she says. And then 'Are you okay with this?' looking at you clearly.

You turn to her and smile. 'Sure I am. That's what friends are for, isn't it?'

This simple lie is a snapshot of your entire friendship. Later tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning, depending how long this night goes on, you will be crying on your sofa or in your bed, crying from loneliness or something for which loneliness is as good a name as any. Nights like this with her always seem to make it worse. You have tried to work out why this should be so, but no satisfactory answer has ever presented itself. It is just the way it is.

Reviews >

Buy a copy >

Back to prologue >