Down Among the Dead Men

20

She was navigating the narrow hallway to their stateroom when Jen caught up with her.

“Beth, wait!”

Beth waved a hand at her. “Enough. I’ve had enough.”

“Look, I’m sorry for being so cranky. I’m hungover and haven’t had any-”

“There’s always an excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse. It’s a reason.”

Beth said nothing. Just shook her head, then shoved her key card into the slot and opened their stateroom door.

Jen grabbed her arm. “Beth, please. Don’t be mad. We’re family, for godsakes. We’re not supposed to be pissed at each other. At least not to the point that you’re ready to hop on a plane.”

“Oh, I’m not mad. I’m just jealous, remember?”

Jen sighed. “And I’m an idiot, okay?”

Beth didn’t want to cry but felt the tears start to well up.

“You’re just like Peter, you know that? One minute you treat me like shit; the next you’re trying to make nice. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Oh, come on, Sis, don’t cry. I…” She stood back suddenly and patted her chest. “Go ahead, punch me. Right in the boob job. I deserve it.”

“I don’t want to punch you.”

“I’m serious. I’m a complete bitch and you’re right about everything and I deserve to be punched.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.”

Beth pushed through the doorway and stepped inside, flicking on the light.

Jen followed her. “Are you really leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Beth moved to the closet, slid open the door, and started pulling her clothes off the hangers. “Because I shouldn’t’ve come in the first place.”

“How can you say that?”

Beth looked at her. “You were right about me. I am jealous. I’m jealous of your ability to say ‘fuck you’ to everyone around you and never take responsibility for a goddamn thing.”

“That isn’t fair.”

Beth pulled her suitcase out and threw it on her bunk. “No, it isn’t fair. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be the rational one. The stable one. I thought coming on this trip might be my chance to let go for once, but as usual, I wind up playing babysitter.”

“You choose that role. I’ve never asked you to watch over me.”

Beth opened the suitcase and threw her clothes in, not bothering to fold them. “But I’m the first one you come running to whenever you screw up, aren’t I?”

“Who am I supposed to go to? Mom and Dad?”

“Very funny.”

She returned to the closet and bent down, gathering up her shoes. She’d spent fifteen minutes washing Jen’s vomit off her Kenneth Coles last night, but just the sight of them made her stomach turn, so she left them behind.

Jen watched her dump the rest of the shoes into her suitcase. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you.”

“Yes,” Beth said. “I told you, I shouldn’t have come. I’ve got cases piling up-I don’t know why I let you talk me into this trip in the first place.”

Jen said nothing. Just stared at her a moment, then moved to her bunk and sat, looking down at her hands.

Then she said, “You know what next week is, right? Next Wednesday?”

“What?”

“The twenty-seventh. Fourteen years since they died.”

Beth felt her gut tighten.

Jen turned her left hand palm up and began tracing the lines with a finger.

“I remember once, a long time ago, I read a book about palmistry and all I wanted to do when I grew up was be a fortune-teller. How stupid is that?”

“Pretty stupid,” Beth said.

“I learned about the head line, the life line, the heart line…and one day, when we were home for the weekend, I asked Dad if I could read his palm.” She smiled at the memory. “He had really strong hands, you know that?”

Beth sat on her own bunk, nodded. “I know.”

Jen’s smile faded. “When I started to do the reading, the first thing I noticed was his life line. It was really short. And I thought, This is not good. This is not good at all.” She paused, looked up at Beth. “But then I told myself I must’ve misunderstood what I’d read. So I didn’t say anything to him. I just made up some bullshit prediction about his future, then went off to watch Saved by the Bell. ”

“What are you saying?” Beth asked.

“That I knew he was going to die. I knew he was going to die and I didn’t tell him. I didn’t warn him.”

Beth shook her head. “They died in a plane crash, Jen. How could you warn him about that?”

“I don’t know. But maybe if I’d told him to be careful, if I’d shown him his life line and told him what it meant, maybe they wouldn’t have chartered that plane.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know,” Jen said. “I know it is. But I can’t help it. I think about it almost every day. And I know none of it’s my fault, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like it is.”

“Let me say it again,” Beth told her. “They died in a plane crash. So unless you performed a Vulcan mind meld and told that pilot to fly into a mountain, what happened to Mom and Dad was purely accidental.”

Jen nodded, was quiet for a moment.

Then: “I tried to contact them last night.”

Beth frowned. “Contact who?”

“Who do you think, dummy? Mom and Dad.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jen paused before answering. “I know you can’t stand Rafael and Marta, but contrary to what you might think, I didn’t spend all my time fucking last night.”

“Oh, brother.” Beth rose again, moved to the dresser, and started pulling out her underwear.

“I’m trying to tell you something here, Beth. Can you at least give me the courtesy of listening?”

“I have absolutely no interest in anything remotely related to those two.”

“Just listen, okay?”

Beth sighed, threw a fistful of bras and panties into the suitcase, and sat again.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“I promise,” Beth said, and waited for Jen to tell her story.