Dyan Sheldon - Away for the Weekend

As eye-catching as the car are its occupants. A young man dressed rather like a CIA agent in pre-revolution Havana in a white linen suit, Panama hat and dark glasses despite the hour, sits rigidly in the passenger seat, his legs stretched out in the “braking” position; his hands gripping the dashboard like bryozoans glued to the side of a rock. Driving (for lack of a better word) is a young woman wearing farmer’s overalls and a feather boa that keeps slapping her companion in the face. He is handsome in what an artist might describe as a classical way; her ethereal beauty is oddly heightened by her bright blue hair and the silver stud shaped like a star in her nose. Both of them are talking at once, but they aren’t having a conversation. The young man is praying rather fervently and the young woman is singing a song of welcome to California – loudly but off-key. The car makes a sudden, heart-halting turn onto Sunset Boulevard.

“Hallelujah!” cries Remedios. “We’re almost there! Was that an awesome ride, or what?”

“Awesome isn’t really the way I’d describe it,” says Otto. Frightening. Terrifying. Perilous. Undoubtedly largely illegal. “It was even worse than the plane.”

And considerably longer.

Remedios isn’t listening to Otto. She has already learned how to turn his voice into background noise – like the sounds of traffic and aircraft overhead and the constant twenty-first-century electronic hum. Not listening to Otto makes everything so much easier. She looks around with a happy smile. “I know it’s been a few years and everything, but I can’t believe how much this place has changed since the last time I was here.” The last time Remedios was here was over two hundred years ago. There were no lights or cars or sprawling communities or freeways then, of course. The floodplain was still covered with woods; the woods were filled with bears and deer; and the chapel was about to be built on the plaza. The fact that so much has changed in the intervening years is one of the reasons it’s taken them so long to get from the airport to the hotel. That and nearly being hit by a bus, the incident at the gas station, and then that woman getting so hysterical over a few uprooted weeds. “I can’t wait to see the sights,” she says.

Otto can. Even this brief an acquaintance with the city has made him think that several other places where he was very unhappy may not have been so bad after all. Otto, who has yet to let go of the dashboard, says, “I want to go home.”

“And where would that be?” Remedios squints through the windscreen, looking for the hotel. It should be coming up on the right. Or possibly the left.

“Jeremiah, Remedios. Where do you think?”

“But we just got here. We haven’t even checked in yet.”

“And we’re not going to,” says Otto. “I don’t know how I let you convince me that this was a reasonable idea. I should have stopped you right from the start. I insist that we leave. Immediately.”

“But why?”

“Why?” His voice is almost the same pitch as the screech of brakes behind them as Remedios makes a last-second turn into the driveway of The Hotel Xanadu on what seems to be only part of one wheel. “You’re asking me why ?”

“Yes, I am. We are allowed to go away for the weekend. Especially on business.” They slip into the line of cars waiting to be parked. “This is one of the most exciting places in the world, Otto.” Unlike Jeremiah where the most exciting thing to happen in the last year was when the mailbox outside the post office was struck by lightning. She gives him a playful nudge. It’s like poking a brick wall. “We’re going to have fun!”

“No, we’re not. We’re going to get into trouble, that’s what we’re going to do. Gargantuan trouble.” Trouble, undoubtedly, of Biblical proportions. “This is going to be a disaster, Remedios, and you know it. We’re not supposed to meddle like this. The rules are very clear about that.”

Remedios makes her mouth very small. Rules are for fools . “There are precedents.”

“Yes, but most of those precedents were set by you.” Otto makes his mouth very hard. “And in any case, my understanding is that those were matters of global importance. These girls’ problems aren’t in the same league at all.” Though it’s likely that they will be after Remedios is through with them.

“There are no small problems, only small angels,” parrots Remedios.

“Remedios, that’s not the point. The point is that it’s not up to us to decide who wins or loses these contests. That’s not part of our brief.”

Remedios groans. She doesn’t have time for this. By now, both girls have long finished eating, and soon they’ll be going back to their rooms. This is her chance – possibly the only one she’ll get – to do what she’s really come to do. “It’ll be fine. I told you. The chances are they’ll both win without my help.”

“Then there’s no reason for us to be here, is there?”

She groans again. “Yes, Otto, there is. In ca—”

“No, Remedios, not in case they don’t win.” He shakes his head. “That’s interfering. That’s precisely what I’m supposed to be here to prevent.”

“If you spent any time in the girls’ toilets, Otto, and heard poor Beth sobbing and vomiting you’d be more sympathetic.”

“Remedios, please.” What a thought! “And in any case, I’m certain you’ve never heard Gabriela crying or being sick.”

“Of course not. It’s different for Gabriela. Gabriela’s problem is that everything’s too easy for her. She needs to really have to push—” Remedios breaks off as she accidentally honks the horn and squirts water on the windscreen.

Several people look over. Otto flinches. It’s a miracle he has any nerves left.

“Then what you should be doing is guiding them to a better mental state, not fixing the competitions,” he says.

Suffering seraphim, how is she supposed to accomplish anything with Mr No-you-can’t around? No wonder she’s had to resort to deceit. Her voice takes on a tone of regret. “I knew I should never have told you.”

“Oh, no, telling me your plan is the only thing you’ve done right so far.” He lifts his sunglasses so she can see the look of stern disapproval he’s giving her. “You had to tell me. And I have to stop you. This isn’t as bad as what you pulled in Haiti, Constantinople, Tenochtitlan, medieval Cologne and all those other places, Remedios, but I still can’t allow it.” Before she knows what’s happening, he reaches over and snatches the keys from the ignition and holds them outside his door. “I’m not discussing this any more. I’ve made up my mind. We’re going back to Jeremiah.”

Not if she can help it. The time has come for even more deceit. She has no choice. “I am just trying to help the girls, Otto. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

“Not like this.”

She gives a sigh of defeat. “Isn’t there anything I can say to persuade you?”

“No. No, there is not.” Unused to victory, he feels almost sorry for her. “I blame myself. I shouldn’t have let it get this far.”

She shakes her head. Sadly. “No, you were right. It’s all my fault. It’s just that I really feel for them. Especially poor Beth.”

“I know. Beth does have a hard time.” He has to resist the urge to pat her knee. “But we have to go by the book.”

“Okay. From now on, we go by the book.” She sighs again. “So what do you want to do?”

“I want to go back to Jeremiah and forget the whole thing. Put it behind us.”

“You know, you look really tired.” Remedios’ voice is gentle, her smile full of concern. “It was probably that flight. And that was my fault, too.”