M Sellars - Miranda

I knew this was only a precursor. Her intent was to bait me into a repeat of my outburst. If I lost control, salt water or not, she would be able to take the reins, and just like before, there would be no turning back. However, I wasn’t going to allow that to happen this time. I steeled myself and simply replied, “So I’ve heard.”

“I am sure that you have.” She smiled. “In great detail I suspect.”

“No, not as much as you would imagine.”

“So I am her secret then. That is even better.”

“Not a secret, really,” I replied. “She just has a lot more class than you.”

She ignored the insult and continued her attempt at provocation. “Tell me, little man, does it not make you jealous that I can pleasure her in ways that you cannot?”

“Can you? It seems to me that you actually just use her as a vehicle to pleasure yourself.”

“A pleasure from which she benefits.”

“I think that might be a matter of perspective.”

“Really? Are you familiar with the remora?” she asked.

I nodded. “It’s a fish as I recall.”

“Very good. Yes, it is,” she replied. “You see, the remora attaches itself to sharks, whales, and other large sea creatures. In exchange for the ride, it grooms its host, keeping it free of bacteria and harmful parasites. The arrangement is called mutualism. Both of them reap benefits from the symbiotic relationship.”

“And so you’re telling me that you and my wife have that same type of relationship I take it?”

“Of course.”

“And you fancy yourself the remora, and not the shark.”

“See?” she replied, saccharine sweet sarcasm glazing her words. “You do understand.”

“Actually, I don’t, because what I see is something completely the opposite. Like the lamprey eel, you attach yourself to a host then proceed to suck the life out of her before moving to the next and so on. Therefore, you benefit at the host’s expense. That arrangement is called parasitism.”

“Interesting. I did not know you had a background in marine biology,” she quipped.

“I had to dissect a lamprey when I was in high school,” I replied. “It left a distasteful impression on me then, just like you have now.”

“Yet here you are.”

“Yes. Here I am,” I agreed. “So… How about you? That analogy with the remora seems like a fairly obscure piece of knowledge for a self-involved head case whose waterlogged corpse was found floating face down in the Mississippi back in eighteen fifty-one.”

I unscrewed the cap on the bottle and took another drink of the salt-laced water while she glared at me in silence. Apparently it was my turn to strike a nerve.

“I’ve wondered about that for a while now,” I continued as I set the bottle aside. “The newspaper article I found mentioned that you were seen jumping into the river. Why would you do something like that? Or, were you maybe pushed?”

She continued to stare.

“I have a theory. Want to hear it? It has to do with your sister, Delphine…”

She cut me off, announcing in a cold tone, “You never answered my question.”

“Answer mine and I’ll see what I can do.”

“No.”

“That doesn’t seem terribly symbiotic of you.”

She allowed the gibe to go unanswered and instead, verbally forced the subject back onto the original track. “Felicity and I are meant for one another. You need to come to terms with that, little man.”

I nodded. “That’s what you keep saying.”

She gave me a sidelong glance then raised an eyebrow. “You are handling this much better than you did yesterday.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “However, you seem to be a little more on edge today. Ironic, don’t you think?”

She ignored the observation and pressed forward. “I am afraid that your visit is in vain. I have decided not to let you speak to Annalise.”

I harrumphed. “I hate to break it to you, but I knew that yesterday.”

“But you came anyway.”

“Well, to be honest I wasn’t going to, but then I got your message.”

She feigned an innocent smile. “What message?”

“I think you know the message I mean,” I said, keeping my tone even and calm. “After all, you found it necessary to interrupt my lunch in order to deliver it.”

“Maybe you should eat faster.”

“I tried that once. It’s bad for my digestion.”

“Really. Perhaps you have an ulcer. You should probably have that checked.”

“Good advice. I’ll do that.”

She stared at me across the table, her expression blank. Rather than return the favor, I focused my gaze over her shoulder at a random point on the wall. After a long wait, I forced myself to yawn then stared back at her without saying a word.

“I still have no idea what message you are talking about,” she finally said.

“Really?”

“Why would I?”

“Because it came from you.”

“You really do need some rest, little man.”

“You’ll get no argument from me there. How about you? You’re looking a bit rough around the edges yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t they let you look in the mirror around here? That body you’re wearing is in sad shape, lady. Annalise isn’t looking too well at all, and you know it.”

“That is because she is weak.”

“I guess that nap yesterday afternoon just wasn’t enough for her, was it?”

She simply stared back at me again, expressionless.

“I know what you’re doing, Miranda,” I told her. “They’ve found the body. But then, you already know that, don’t you?”

There was a flicker in her eye as she smiled, but other than that she remained silent.

I nodded. “Still no comment, I see. So, tell me…” I gestured at her. “Is this your grand plan for my wife? Ride her until nothing is left like you’ve done to Annalise. Then move on to the next horse? And then the next?”

She finally ended her purposeful reticence. “Felicity is different.”

“I can’t argue with you there. But even she wouldn’t be able to take the abuse you dish out forever. You would eventually burn her out too.”

“We will see.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No, we won’t.”

“I can make them stop, you know,” she said, stressing the sentence heavily.

The abruptness of the comment, as much as the words and tone, told me she was switching topics in an attempt to regain control.

“Make who stop?” I asked.

“Them,” she repeated. “The dead. I can make them leave you alone.”

“I doubt it.”

“Why, I made you understand them, did I not?”

In the wake of her question, a flash of memory played through my grey matter. To say it was familiar would have been the ultimate in understatements.

“Maybe…” I said. “But that’s not how it feels. It’s almost as if someone was translating for me.”

“Who?”

I sighed again. “That’s the problem. I have no idea. I feel like I should, but I just don’t…”

A line formed between a pair of the unrelated dots then continued on to another. Unfortunately, the picture that was starting to be revealed was far from pretty.

I nodded. “I guess I should have known it was you.”

“If I had wanted you to know it was me, you would have.”

I paused then picked up the bottle of water and drained it. Miranda watched me in silence.

Several heartbeats thudded inside my chest before I finally asked, “So, now you’re offering me a bribe?”

The corner of her mouth curled upward in a vile sneer. “I said that I could, little man. I never said that I would.”

“That’s right. You didn’t, did you…”

I looked over to the corrections officer in the corner and calmly said, “Okay. I’m done.”