Bruce Wagner - Dead Stars

. .

She sat in the lunchroom with Albie, the fag boss she had seriously contemplated proposing to, she loved the fags, they were so hurt, so like her, so simpatico, she couldn’t live in the world without the caustic kindness of the fags. In the short time she’d known Albie, they’d become galfriends, they shared passports to the same country, she trusted him to listen to her tales of woe & conquest, to be on her side, just as he trusted the same, they were instant co-conspirators, pain buddies & art hounds. She was sitting in the lunchroom grimming out, and when Albie came in, the tender, comical sight of him instantly lightened her load. He sat down beside her, they were the only ones, more or less, Albie arranged it like that, he didn’t relish the company of fellow workmen, knew she wouldn’t, and scheduled them for late lunches.

They’d gossip about celebs or he’d tell her he wanted to die because he found out his husband took 2 boys to bed, their bed, while Albie was away (he called him husband , tho they hadn’t yet married), & after the catharsis & general bloodletting he’d take Jacquie drinking at the Sports Club Bar & Grille, too many hanging flatscreens but decent 330-8PM calamari, decent sarcastic peoplewatching—

She was going to pour a little bit of her misery heart into his hands, but he spoke first, & with urgency. He looked drawn.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m closing early today.”

“Albie, what happened?”

“My cousin Ginger — I’m really close to her and her husband Daniel — closer to her —she just had a baby & it was a stillborn.”

“O!”

Now she could see he had been crying.

“Jacquie, it is so horrible . And Daniel said there’s something wrong — with Ginger — that she’s really, really calm , you know, too calm, & normally? I wouldn’t trust Daniel’s version of events? But this time I do? Because… Jacquie, can you come? Would you go with me?”

“Of course I will.”

“Because she asked me to do something — Ginger got on the phone & asked me to do something — and it’s kind of crazy? Right? & if it was someone else I could kind of see the value of it? But because it’s her I can’t even go there . But I’m the one she asked, so I need to kind of sort of like honor that ? And I don’t think I–I don’t think that I can actually do it. I think you —I just really need you to be there.”

“Albie, let’s just go. Let’s go and see her.”

“Really? Jacquie, thank you , because I just really don’t think I can do this—”

“What is it that she wants?”

“I’ll tell you on the way over, we can go in one car? Can we just take one car? My car?”

“Sure.”

“I won’t be able to, I know myself, I would fall apart . And I thought you could maybe help, specifically . Because I know myself, I’ll faint or just lose it in front of them, which would be so tragically fucked up! ”

“Albie, what? What is—”

“She asked me to take pictures — of her & the baby. Like a portrait, a formal family portrait. So she can remember. Jacquie, it’s so sad! ( Crying now ) Would you take them for me, Jacquie? The pictures? Because I know myself, I will completely lose it . I wouldn’t want to do that to Daniel & Ginger! I wouldn’t want to do that. Do you think you can help? Jacquie, can you take the pictures — the portrait? Can you take the family portrait?”

This Strange & Mournful Day

The

new mother, Ginger, was in bed sitting up, & the man, father, new dad, what have you — Daniel — he was sitting at bedside actually smoking a cigarette which Jacquie thought was impressive. Albie was already kissing Ginger, & Daniel was side-eyed checking out Jacquie, as if waiting — daring — for someone — anyone — to tell him to put out the cigarette. When Albie got out of the line of vision, Jacquie took one look & saw the mom holding the baby in her arms and said to herself But he said it was a stillborn, which only seconds later was confirmed by closer sight, energy & mood all at once, the woman was holding the baby, the baby didn’t look malformed at all, the baby looked beautiful, but there it was, terminally malformed of life.

What Ginger had asked was if Albie would take their portrait: her, Daniel, & the baby, or just her and the baby should Daniel not consent, which was his prerogative, tho she hoped he would. But Albie knew that his nerves couldn’t withstand it, he immediately thought of Jacquie, she was famous (in his mind, and it was the truth too, because he’d never met anyone who actually had a page in Wikipedia), if he could get her to do this, which in his heart he fairly knew he could, if Jacquie would do this for him & his cousin, that would be a blessing, good and right. When he told Ginger about his idea, & who he was working with, this famous photog and all — and of course this was before he’d even asked Jacquie if she’d come — when he told Ginger, she smiled so quietly, so beautifully, O! heartbreaking! saying “This is why God brought her into your life.”

On the way to his car, Jacquie said they should go to her house first, she had a Hasselblad & a Leica there, & film too, but Albie always traveled with his Rolleiflex in the trunk, he was a hobbyist, the impulse purchase of the Rolleiflex being one he regretted because it was so much money. He kept it wrapped in a towel wedged next to the spare, all they needed was to buy film. He asked if she was familiar with it & when she said yes, “very,” he said, Of course you are, sorry, don’t mind me, I’m an idiot, & she said no no, there were lots of cameras she didn’t know but a Rollei was her 1st, a gift from the father of her 1stborn (Jerry Jr.), the (squirrely, tho) not so nutty Professor.

The nurses were leaving the new mom and dad alone, so the door remained shut & they didn’t need to hassle intrusions and interruptions. Natural light. Albie was going to leave but Ginger told him to stay, & he hung back. O — natural light — the staggering sad beauty of it, the gruesome wondrous marvel & miracle, the outlandishness, the Babyland ishness, this mother had no tears in her at this beatitudinous moment, just stared not even with longing at that tiny expired thing, no longing at this moment because she had her, the little girl was in her arms, so what was there to long for? — she was like a superhero whose special power was a serene unhurried unrushed unbroken smile that could bring the bedrapéd dead back to life. Jacquie stared a while, not morbidly but taking in the scene before she began, the artist’s prerogative. She wanted to take a respectful moment, plus she was curious, she’d never seen a dead baby, well who had, & the mom had yes a beatific smile as if in a tender sacramental state of show&tell, & knowing that a fellow mother might be curious, well who wouldn’t be, & generously wishing to help sate it, such communal impulse in such a case was unnaturally natural. Jacquie smiled as she looked at the thing, its eyes were kind of open, she became aware of tears rising from a deep deep well but forced them down, an actual labor, reverse of child labor, she remembered once the Professor telling her (while he was schooling her in all things) that the sound of Bach’s partitas were the sound of human tears. . afterall the moment wasn’t about her, it was about the pietà of mother & child, the mother and child reunion & the mother wasn’t crying, so how dare Jacquie?