Stacey Levine - Dra-

The man turned beet-red, screaming uncontrollably as a nimble pilot leapt from the plane, laughing good-naturedly and waving to the woman. He hauled the crying man into the plane’s compartment and slammed the door. Appearing in the window, the man motioned to the woman in panicked gestures that she should come toward the plane, but instead she stood rocking on her heels as the plane shot down the runway, bumping and bucking until it lifted from the roof and into the haze.

By now, most of the employees had gone to their next work shifts. Standing near the runways, breathing in deeply the black waste of the planes, Dra—, hair blowing stiffly back, watched the woman stroll away, hands in pockets, head down, smiling to herself. In the distance, planes landed, then rolled toward openmouthed tunnels near the edge of the roof where they paused, then plunged, heading for small, lighted stations so far below they were nearly invisible.

From a stairwell door, two well-dressed women emerged. They walked across the roof holding hands, speaking intensely and zealously to one another as if they had recently spent a close period of time together and guarded the experience viciously. Sitting on two summer chairs alongside a cement pillar, the women squinted in the dust as they discussed some third party, and Dra— modestly moved out of their view.

“I know who you mean, and she’s a terrible liar,” the thinner woman said, sitting on the edge of her chair.

“Yes, yes, I know! I don’t really like her, either, but that’s just me, I suppose,” said the other.

“Well, you’re nothing like her, Marla, not at all. You’re as far from her as you can get from the moon, except you are fiercely loyal as a friend. I’ve heard that she is loyal, too.”

“Oh, she’s not loyal, I bet, not at all — she’s just a big tub of nothing!” the first woman said, grinning hugely. “You’re so different from her, Slim! You’re clever, you have such spark!”

Her friend smiled. “Clever — yes, you have described me. I also happen to know that she, for all her loyalty, has not a fraction of your native talent, Marla.”

“Oh, you’re flattering me!” the stockier woman said, blushing. “I’ve loved this entire day! I love being with you, Slim. When we talk, I get the feeling that nothing will ever go wrong!”

“So feeling secure is very important to you,” the other woman said, eyes wandering. “I wonder why?”

“I don’t know,” Marla said. “I just know that I feel linked to you somehow. I can’t explain it but I know it’s true. How can I bother with my old friends anymore? They don’t understand me the way you do, they’re not in the same mental league. They’re such silly, stupid girls.”

“Life is easy for people who have the luxury of being silly and stupid, isn’t it?” Slim said, lying back, smiling assuredly, arms extended on the chair’s armrests.

“That’s just what I think!”

“And being less aware, those people are unable to recognize their own disadvantages to begin with.”

“Oh — it’s fascinating, listening to you, Slim,” said Marla, with an appearance of trying to suppress elation. “Do you know how everyone is a little in awe of you? The other girls talk about you at night, you know — and here I am, speaking with you for the second time in my life! And, I want to ask you—”

“Yes?”

“It’s just something I’ve been wondering,” Marla said, and paused. “I want to be your client!” she burst forth, flushing terribly.

“Ah, the whole world wants to be my client,” Slim laughed, flexing her fingers, “and so do you, naturally. But you are not my client, Marla, you are my student. That fact is unalterable. I can teach you, I can speak, I can listen, but you will never be my client. That would be inappropriate.”

“But this is different!” cried Marla. “You would make an exception for me, because we are already so close!”

“That’s exactly why it’s a bad idea. You’re asking for the impossible, do you see? Really, Marla, I think this wish of yours bears some deeper examination.”

Marla began to cry. “Don’t humiliate me for another second!” she said stickily. “I should never have bothered being honest with you!”

“Dear, I think it’s interesting that you think I am humiliating you when I am simply telling you what I will and will not do.”

Marla put her hands over her ears and in large, clumsy movements ran across the roof, shouting crossly at Slim, who, still sitting in her chair, cast a careful, absorbed gaze upon Marla.

“I expressed my feelings!” Marla turned and shouted from across the roof. “You told me to do that, so I did! And now, you’re punishing me for doing it! You’re ruining me!”

“Oh — Marla!” Slim said, holding out her arms. “Just a few minutes ago we were so close! Stop it and come back here, dear. You’re only embarrassing yourself by conjuring up dramas long dead.”

“You witch!” Marla yelled, scarlet with rage. She ran far across the roof toward the noisy airstrips and the planes, which dwarfed her.

Slim called across the roof, “Marla, what are your thoughts about your mother?”

“What?” Marla called, tiny.

“I am not your mother!” Slim yelled. “I am your teacher and friend, but right now, I’d like you to tell me something about your mother. Tell me her most distinct characteristic.”

“I don’t feel like it! Why should I, when the truth is you don’t care?”

“That’s silly, Marla. Why did you ask to be my client? Only because you know I care.”

Marla paused. “Is that a riddle?” she asked, squinting, fussing with her hair, separating it into tufts.

“Well, yes, in a way! It’s your riddle, Marla.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, come back, you silly, lazy girl,” Slim called with pleasure.

Scuffling back across the roof, Marla whined, “But I want to be your client!” as she grasped Slim’s dry fingers and slid into her arms.

Slim took Marla’s embrace, pulling her onto her lap, looking at her closely. “I assure you that you are not my client. Do you realize we were involved in a struggle just now? And struggle is part of life, do you know that? Why, sometimes, it’s just what the doctor ordered!” She coughed raspingly. “Now, say this: You are my teacher—”

“You are my teacher,” Marla said.

“Good.” She paused. “And as your teacher, I can’t help but notice that you often behave in a contrary, even seductive manner, Marla, and — do you know what — I am also beginning to think that struggle titillates you,” she said, smiling a little, eyes moving to the distance. “All this is worth examining, isn’t it?” She waited. “Struggle titillates her,” she murmured.

“Oh, I don’t know,” sighed Marla, rubbing her head with her hands. “I hate fighting, but all the same I love it. I know I don’t know how to explain it, but—” she sighed. “Fighting is heaven, when it’s over, I mean.” She pushed her face into Slim’s shoulder.

“Marla—”

“I want to be your client, so you can — don’t you see? I’m thirty-two years old, and I deserve some pleasure, dammit!”

Presently she slumped over, asleep, releasing her weight upon Slim, who sighed, draping her arm over the silver-haired Marla.

Slim leaned down to rummage through her purse and pulled out a box of sucking candy. Placing a piece in her mouth, she lisped to the sleeping woman, “There are theories galore about attachment and most of them are silly. Instead of all that, I like to say, ‘You may have strong feelings, but they have little to do with reality!’ Or, ‘When you are angry at another person, it’s all about you, no one else, so think, think hard about your conflicts, and only if you’re lucky will the wind blow you away!’ ”