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Chapter Four: The Fortune CookieAs the birds began to chirp outside Sylvie's partially opened bedroom window (It had been a hot night and the air-conditioning had a smell that Liz assured was espestis, though Sylvie begged to differ that espestis didn't have a scent. In short, the air-conditioning was never used.), her mind filled with rage and began to scream and kick on account of the crows who were most unpleasant to wake up to.
"CAW! CAW! CAW! AIIIIEEEEEHHHHH!" Sylvie screeched -- the birds continued, louder. The door burst open and Liz stood looking scared, bedraggled and bewildered. Sylvie turned to her and smiled sleepily, "Good morning, Liz. How did you sleep?"
"What the hell's going on in here?!" She yelled. "What the hell was that noise?! Were you killing a cat or something?!"
"No... I was trying to scare those friggin' crows, but it only made them noisier." She pulled the sheets down, off of her body, and swung her legs off the bed; setting her feet on the floor she felt a rush of blood circulate and throb through her arches, toes, ankles, and the balls of her feet. As her body adjusted to the new position, like every morning, her muscles and joints became sore and bloated feeling; Sylvie had become certain she had "morning blood-clots". "Damn doctors ... they need to figure out some remedy for people who are susceptible to these weird blood diseases..." Liz sighed and left the room, before she was forced to hear more estranged complaints that made little sense.
"I'm going to Basil's later... I'm just warning you in case you go somewhere and are wondering where I am when you get home." Liz called from down the hallway.
A minute of drowsiness passed, and then... "I GET THE BATHROOM FIRST, LIZ! I REALLY HAFTA PEE!" Sylvie shot like a bullet from her room, crashing into a wall before colliding into an innocent Liz, who was making her way to their eating area with a bowl of cereal.
"SYLVIE!"
As Sylvie's last class was dismissed, she had well thought over a plan: she would go to Kaylie's work and invite her to have lunch; should she decline, Sylvie would rush across the street to a Chinese restaurant and bring back take-out. While her professors preached on varying topics, Sylvie thought about chop-stick-feeding and spoon-feeding; which was sexier and the like. Though the spoon dipped and left ice cream on a girl's top lip, chopsticks accentuated the tongue and a residue of General Tso's Chicken sauce remained curved onto both lips. Tangy and eccentric. Sweet or spicy? Hot or heavenly? Sylvie decided that this would make an excellent topic for debate class, but made it her goal to decide that afternoon or night ... depending if her plan went well and she was able to make Kaylie succumb to her 'true desires'.
So clad in a V-neck tight black short-sleeved shirt, and a red and gold-trimmed skirt; Sylvie made her way to Rave and began the seduction... Her feet were stuffed into small black high-heels, and she was ready to take an ax to her ankles by the time she arrived.
The green and black cover of 'The Andromeda Strain' covered most of Kaylie's face, Sylvie watched her from the side; she chewed her lip with anticipation, eyes wide and carefully focused on the book. 'Must be gettin' good...' Sylvie thought. The girls became entranced: Sylvie with Kaylie, and Kaylie with the web of words so meticulously formed by Michael Crichton. She noted Kaylie's posture as she leaned forward on her blue-wooden stool, her eyes darting across the paper, and her hand waiting impatiently to turn the page. Fingers pinching and rubbing the corners. Her tongue flicked out over her dried lips, yet chapstick sat on the counter a foot away -- she made a mental note to pick up a copy from the library, if it was so good that Kaylie could have allowed someone to shoplift.
Glancing away from Kaylie, Sylvie saw a mirror on a wall, she walked over to it and examined herself. Immediately, Sylvie realized she'd worn the wrong pair of earrings. A minuscule problem of all things considered that could have gone wrong, but Sylvie was horrified. 'GREEN? Why, oh why?' If she'd taken a second look, she may have realized it brought the color out in her eyes, but her stubborn and insistent ways left Sylvie with the panic of hyper-reality: green clashed with red, black and gold -- not to mention green!
"Oh I'm sorry! I didn't see you come in," Kaylie's sweet sincere voice melted away Sylvie's concerns and she turned to her. "May I... Sylvie, hello." Standing a mere two feet away from each other, Sylvie was forced to contain the urge to grab Kaylie and kiss her passionately.
"Hi, I was wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite to eat... I was thinking Chinese?" Her voice was neat and even, sugary and it sounded well-meant.
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea... and I have to work late anyway." Large brown eyes and a slight frown scanned Sylvie's face for disappointment, but she found none.
"That's alright, I'll run across the street and get take-out. What do you want? I've been having a hankering for General Tso's chicken, does that sound good? Or do you want me to get you something else?" Kaylie realized she was not about to win this, and sighed, smiling, for in truth she went giddy at the thought of being with her -- but no! She had to think about Elijah... how would he feel? Oh to hell with him!
"I think they have coconut ice cream over there..." They grinned at each other, and Sylvie almost shrieked at the thought of accomplishing her goal.
"Ok, I'll be back!"
The Chinese restaurant was called, 'Ming Dynasty' it was well known for its marvelous egg flour soup, and had been rewarded with much praise from various chef schools, who often took their students there for field trips. The owner was a petite Chinese man, whom was nicknamed 'Confucius' as a child; though his real name was Paul Wong; named for Sir Paul McCartney, formally of The Beatles.
Confucius was in his late-thirties, his parents had immigrated to America in hopes of becoming the first Chinese-American jazz band. This dream was left behind, as their sax player abruptly quit in 1964, and Confucius' mother, Mei-Zhen, got pregnant by the bass player. Whilst the pianist contemplated suicide and their manager began lusting after Betty Grable, Mr. Wong proposed to Mei, for he was strictly pro-life, and in those days, abortions were inhumane and unthought of. She declined and set out after the sax player, they fell in love and were married a month after Mei's baby was born: Paul Wong. Though Mr. Wong refused to pay child support and the state of California quickly jailed him for moon-shining.
Thus, Confucius' mother and "father" became hippies, and raised the boy Bhuddist; feeding his soul: knowledge, love, peace, and rock 'n' roll. However, Confucius grew up idolizing Barbara Walters, Martha Stewart, and Oprah Winfrey; never taking any interest in Led Zeppelin or John Lennon. His dreams were narrowed down to becoming a reporter, becoming a chef, or a psychiatrist. In short, he chose cooking.
Sylvie walked into a large, dimly lit restaurant that was fluttering with voices and mystical smells from a faraway land. She inhaled the scent of mushu pork and plum sauce being carried past her by Confucius' son Shoki, named for the Japanese demon quellor, on account of Shoki's mother being from Japan. Candles flickered here and there, and incense smoldered from behind a mahogany desk. Confucius sat behind it, reading a copy of 'Martha Stewart Living'; peering over the Bhudda statues, Sylvie could see in bold lettering that spring-green was popular now.
"May I help you?" he asked, interrupting her digestion of color-coordination and K-Mart brand names. His eyes were black in the lighting, glimmering with wisdom and knowledge.
Startled, Sylvie jumped back from the desk to collect herself, then stepped forward and cleared her throat. "Ahem, can I order some General Tso's Chicken, fried rice ... and ... coconut ice cream, to go, please?"
Confucius traced his hand over Martha's face, to the side and shut the magazine. He sat back and eyed Sylvie some more, "Would you like anything else? Anything to drink?"
Sylvie shook her head, and smiled curtly. Leaning over the desk, he opened a jar that sat next to the toothpick dispenser; "Have a fortune cookie," he said, beckoning to her with his free hand.
She looked into the jar and saw the many golden folds, like most people, she picked the middle one; cracking it open to read the fortune before eating the semisweet cracker. "You will come to a crossroads where you must decide between your heart, and mind." She read to herself, then thought, 'Well I hope the crossroad is nothing like that Britney Spears movie!' Sylvie looked up and saw Confucius smiling at her, take-out boxes in a plastic bag, receipt in hand.
"Twelve dollars even."
When Sylvie returned with the fortune in her pocket and plastic-bag-handles in her hand, Kaylie jumped up hurriedly from her seat.
"I've gotta go to the bathroom really fast, I'll be right back." In an instant Kaylie had left Sylvie standing there, still absorbing her words. That's when she saw it:
Lying on the counter, so innocently, next to the phone was Kaylie's address book. Shakily, she set down the bag and went around the desk towards the blue and white Hello Kitty booklet. She searched the 'E' section first, thinking maybe she listed them by first name as she did -- but that was a no-go. Flipping frantically through relatives, friends, ex-boyfriends with skulls drawn around them and X-ed out hearts -- W: Wood, Elijah.
She quickly wrote down his address and number on the back of her receipt before tucking it away and...
"Whatcha doin'?"
Sylvie jumped and closed the address book, "Oh! Sorry, I was just... I grew up with Hello Kitty so..."
Kaylie grinned, "Really? Me too!"
Over all, Sylvie was more turned on by the chopsticks; spoons were so adorable and childish, they possessed a whimsical feel -- and yet they made Sylvie so hot! It almost made her feel like she was committing molestation -- minus the sex -- by the time their mouth-driven bodies crashed into Sylvie's phsycidelic apartment. They giggled and tore at each others' shirts; but Kaylie's was a rather complicated strappy thing, so they just made-out in Liz's room (which Liz did not appreciate AT ALL).
If things were meant to work out, they sure didn't appear that way to Sylvie. At 11 o'clock she awoke to Kaylie's form slinking across the room, jamming her feet into her shoes tiredly. Immediately, Sylvie sat up, eyes wide.
"You're leaving?" Sylvie asked confused.
Kaylie jumped, turned around and whispered, "I didn't know you were awake."
"I wasn't, but I am now. Where are you going?" Fighting back the sleep and darkness, she stretched her arms and legs.
She sighed and walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Sylvie ... this isn't working out, for me."
"It's that damn Batman isn't it?" Sylvie scowled in the pitch-black.
Kaylie furrowed her brows, "Who?"
"Erm, Elijah. You must really like him, huh?" Exasperation filled her, along with sorrow and doubt, not to mention revenge...
"Well, ... he is my boyfriend. I like him a lot, but then I also like you a lot. It's just that this is so ... fun, and unreal; and then Elijah is more ... full of prickles. Do you get what I'm saying?"
Sylvie nodded, "That you're a masochist?"
"NO!" She sighed, "I'm saying ... relationships aren't all fun and games-"
"They're lustful!" Sylvie exclaimed, "Sex, lust, romance, horniness!"
"No..." Kaylie giggled, "No, that's not it either. Unpredictable, new, and spontaneous."
"We could eat Chinese food in the bathtub. That's unpredictable... THINK ABOUT IT!" Kaylie giggled and Sylvie continued. "We could have lavender and chamomile bath gel and feed each other mushu pork with chopsticks!"
"Well, ... that's definitely intriguing ... but not really what I was getting at."
"We could have a threesome. You, me, and Thora Birch in a tub eating war wanton soup! Ooh! Foursome! Let's include Britney Spears! Bring out the strawberry ice cream!"
"That's not Chinese." She pointed out, laughing.
"I know ... but Britney seems really fruity."
"Fruity... sheesh, what were we talking about again? I lost track when we sailed to China."
"I love those Chinese Junks, they're so cool! I'm gonna buy one someday and sail into Hong Kong... They have a harbor don't they?"
"Yes, but Sylv-"
"Then I want to climb Mount Fuji! But I'll bring a Kodak disposable camera!"
"Mount Fuji is in Japan." Kaylie corrected irritated.
"I know," she smiled. "I'm going to paraglide over there from the top of a famous landmark ... or the roof of a hotel. I want to run away from home and send in some extravagant article to National Geographic with all these amazing pictures, and then Liz will-"
"Liz? Who's Liz?"
"My friend, roommate, mi amiga, the girl who's bed we just madeout in." Sylvie grinned, "You thought Liz was my girlfriend didn't you?"
"No... I-"
"You were jealous weren't you?!" Sylvie felt like a lawyer -- a bad lawyer, but all the same ... on her way to prosecuting the so-called "innocent". Fighting evil or fighting reality, fighting for truth and knowledge and-
"MAYBE! A little...I don't know!" Kaylie shouted unhappily, she gripped her hair in frustration. "It's too fricken confusing... I don't know what I'm doing here." She whispered half to herself, "I should be listening to my conscience..."
"Kaylie, sometimes you need to let loose and listen to the other voice... Just because you have a cute friend and an ugly friend, doesn't mean you should neglect the ugly one."
"I never said you were ugly, Sylvie!" Kaylie exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her in emphasis.
"I know, I was using it as an example. Don't ignore the devil just because you're infatuated with the angel; the devil may not be the best choice, but it DOES hold some wisdom, all the same."
Kaylie pulled back and quirked her mouth into a smile, "That was very poetic, Slyv'." They giggled for a moment but sighed; lines smoothed out from the smiles, Sylvie chewed the inside of her mouth and Kaylie's contemplative face stared at the comforter. The air was still, but jagged and uneven; their skin glowed with moonlight and darkness, shining through the window pane, opposite the door. Kaylie let out a hesitant breath, "I should go..."
Sylvie said nothing. She looked up at her, eyes seemingly black, glittering jade and white: she nodded. It was for the best, retain distance, isn't that what everyone does? Isn't that why no one seems happy or sad? Afraid of what lies ahead, take the nearest exit but don't keep going down the freeway ... what's so bad about the theme park? Just an escape. Just an illusion to take you away from the real world, but isn't it better? Better than the nothingness that resides in that side-town? Unless you like Denny's and Taco Bell ... deep-fried and regretful at the end of the road. Plus, Sylvie liked churros and cotton candy, stomach escalating to her throat at the end of the roller-coaster.
Suddenly, the climax of a Tori Amos song Liz had played innumerous times came screaming back at her:
"Years go by will I still be waiting, for somebody else to understand?
Years go by, if I'm stripped of my beauty, and the orange clouds raining in my head.
Years go by, will I choke on my tears, until finally there is nothing left?
One more casualty, you know we're too easy, easy, easy..."Kaylie was out in the hallway by then, making her way towards the door.
"I'll call you," Sylvie said, leaning on the wall. "Think about it, alright?"
"Sure," she said, looking over her shoulder, she waved her fingers and Sylvie smiled.
"Bye." The door closed, and another flew open, Liz folded her arms and lifted her eyebrows.
"You stole her address book didn't you?" Sylvie opened her mouth to defend herself and her actions but Liz cut her off. "SYLVIE! You THIEF! I should call the cops on you ... but I won't because you're going to give it back, right? RIGHT?"
"I didn't take it, I just wrote down his information." Liz's face fell and frustration poured out of her skin. "I'm not going to STALK him... I need to call him. He deserves to know -- don't you think he deserves to know, Liz? Weren't you on his side? Batgirl?"
"You're twisting my words..."
"Oh so you're Harley, then?"
"NO! ARRRGGH! GOODNIGHT! Wash my sheets tomorrow, will ya?! Otherwise I'll be forced to sleep in your room..." Liz shivered with disgust, "You're so rude Sylv'. You DO have your OWN room, ya know! Basil and I don't-"
"EEWW! STOP RIGHT THERE! I do NOT want to hear about you're sexual activities!" Sylvie screamed before rushing back to Liz's room. She plopped on the bed and turned onto her stomach, trying to sort between Liz's scent, Kaylie's, and her own. Sighing, Sylvie reached into her pocket and pulled out the fortune. 'My heart and mind?' she questioned its meaning before falling into a fitful sleep that was filled with dreams soon to be forgotten, and meanings forever lost.
