Karen Fowler - Black Glass

“I can tell you something about it,” the bartender said. “I can’t swear any of it’s true, but I know what people say. It’s a picture of a miracle.” He glanced at Henry. “Happened more than a hundred years ago. It was painted by a man, a local man, I don’t think anyone remembers who. And this woman appeared to him one day, by the rock. She held out her hands, cupped, just the way he drew them, like she was offering him something, but her hands were empty. And then she disappeared again.”

“Well?” said Lily.

“Well, what?” Henry answered her. She turned back to him. Henry was drinking something clear from a shot glass. Egan kept it filled; Henry never asked him, but emptied the glass several times without appearing to be affected. Lily wondered if it might even be water.

“What was the miracle? What happened?”

There was a pause. Henry looked down into his drink. Egan finally spoke. “Nothing happened that I know of.” He looked at Henry. Henry shrugged. “The miracle was that she appeared. The miracle was that he turned out to be the kind of person something like this happened to.”

Lily shook her head in dissatisfaction.

“It’s kind of a miracle the painting has lasted so long, don’t you think?” Egan suggested. “Out there in the wind and the sand for all those years?”

Lily shook her head again.

“You are a hard woman,” Henry told her. He leaned closer. “And a beautiful one.”

It made Lily laugh at him for being so unoriginal. “Right.” She stirred her drink with her finger. “How do Indians feel about their mothers?”

“I loved mine. Is that the right answer?”

“I’ll tell you what I’ve always heard about Indians.” Lily put her elbows on the counter between them, her chin in her hands.

“I bet I know this.” Henry’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I bet I know exactly what you’ve always heard.”

“I’ve heard that sexual technique is passed on from father to son.” Lily took a drink. “And you know what I’ve always thought? I’ve always thought a lot of mistakes must be perpetuated this way. A culture that passed on sexual technique from mother to son would impress me.”

“So there’s a middleman,” said Henry. “Give it a chance. It still could work.” The phone rang at the end of the bar. Egan went to answer it. Henry leaned forward, staring at her intently. “You have incredible eyes,” he said, and she looked away from him immediately. “I can’t decide what color they are.”

Lily laughed again, this time at herself. She didn’t want to respond to such a transparent approach, but she couldn’t help it. The laugh had a hysterical edge. She got to her feet. “Take off your pants and I’ll buy you a drink,” she said and enjoyed the startled look on Henry’s face. She held on to the counter, brushing against him by accident on her way to the back of the bar.

“End of the counter and left,” the bartender told her, hanging up the phone. She gripped each stool and spun it as she went by, hand over hand, for as long as they lasted. She made it the last few steps to the bathroom on her own. The door was marked with the silhouette of a figure wearing a skirt. Lily fell through it and into the stall. On one side of her Brian is a fox was scratched into the wall. On the other were the words Chastity chews. A picture accompanied the text, another picture of a woman, presumably chewing chastity. She had many arms like Kali and a great many teeth. A balloon rose from her mouth. Hi, she said simply.

Lily spent some time at the mirror, fixing her hair. She blew a breath into her hand and tried to smell it, but all she could smell was the lavatory soap. She supposed this was good. “I’m going home,” she announced, back in the bar. “I’ve enjoyed myself.”

She felt around in her purse for her keys. Henry held them up and rang them together. “I can’t let you drive home. You hardly made it to the bathroom.”

“I can’t let you take me. I don’t know you well enough.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that. Looks like you have to walk.”

Lily reached for the keys and Henry closed his fist about them. “It’s only about six blocks,” he said.

“It’s dark. I could be assaulted.”

“Not in Two Trees.”

“Anywhere. Are you kidding?” Lily smiled at him. “Give me the keys. I already have a blister.”

“I could give you the keys and you could hit a tree not two blocks from here. I don’t think I could live with myself. Egan will back me up on this.” Henry gestured with his closed fist toward the bartender.

“Damn straight,” said Egan. “There’s no way you’re driving home. You’ll be fine walking. And, anyway, Jep’s come for you.” Lily could see a vague doggy shape through the screen door.

“Hello, Jep,” Lily said. The doggy shape wagged from side to side. “All right.” Lily turned back to the men at the bar. “All right,” she conceded. “I’m walking. The men in this town are pitiless, but the dogs are fine. You’ve got to love the dogs.”

She swung the screen door open. Jep backed out of the way. “Tomorrow,” Egan called out behind her, “you go see those caves.”

Jep walked beside her on the curbside, between her and the street. Most of the houses were closed and dark. In the front of one a woman sat on a porch swing, holding a baby and humming to it. Some heartbreak song. By the time Lily reached Mattie’s she felt sober again.

Mattie was sitting in the living room. “Egan called,” she said. “I made you some tea. I know it’s not what you think you want, but it has some herbs in it, very effective against hangover. You won’t be sorry you drank it. It’s a long hike to the caves. You want to be rested.”

Lily sat on the couch beside her. “Thank you. You’re being very good to me, Mattie. I don’t deserve it. I’ve been behaving very badly.”

“Maybe it’s just my turn to be good,” said Mattie. “Maybe you just finished your turn. Did you ever get any dinner?”

“I think I may have had some pretzels.” Lily looked across the room to the phone, wondering if she were going to call David. She looked at the picture of the Madonna. It was not a very interesting one. Too sweet. Too much sweetness. “I should call my husband,” she told Mattie and didn’t move.

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“No,” said Lily. “It wouldn’t be that sort of call. David and I, we don’t have personal conversations.” She realized suddenly that she had left her wedding ring back at the bar on the cocktail napkin beside her empty glass.

“Is the marriage a happy one?” Mattie asked. “Forgive me if I’m prying. It’s just — well, here you are.”

“I don’t know,” said Lily.

Mattie put her arm around Lily and Lily leaned against her. “Loving is a lot harder for some people than for others,” she said. “And being loved can be hardest of all. Not for you, though. Not for a loving woman like you.”

Lily sat up and reached for her tea. It smelled of chamomile. “Mattie,” she said. She didn’t know how to explain. Lily felt that she often appeared to be a better person than she was. It was another affliction. In many ways Mattie’s analysis was true. Lily knew that her family and friends wondered how she lived with such a cold, methodical man. But there was another truth, too. Often, Lily set up little tests for David, tests of his sensitivity, tests of his commitment. She was always pleased when he failed them, because it proved the problems between them were still his fault. Not a loving thing to do. “Don’t make me out to be some saint,” she said.

She slept very deeply that night, dreaming on alcohol and tea, and woke up late in the morning. It was almost ten before she and Jep hit the trail. She watched for the painting on her way up this time, stopping to eat an identical lunch in a spot where she could look at it. Jep sat beside her, panting. They passed the rock overhang where she had eaten lunch the day before, finished the climb uphill, and started down. The drop-off was sharp; the terrain was dusty and uninviting, and Lily, who was tired of walking uphill, found it even harder to descend. When the trail stopped at a small hollow in the side of a rock, she decided she would rest and then go back. Everyone else might be excessively concerned that she see the caves, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She dropped the day pack on the ground and sat beside it. Jep raised his collie ear and wagged his tail. Turning, Lily was not at all surprised to see Henry coming down the hill, his hair loose and hanging to his shoulders.