He Started It(35)

So no, I never saw any aliens and I didn’t believe in them. Bet Nikki didn’t, either.

Just below us on the platform, Krista is walking around the rock garden. Discarded items are strewn about, notes, tchotchkes, articles of clothes have been left as energy gifts to the vortexes. There are two here, near the watchtower, along with a circular view of the sky.

Next to me, a group of older women take this all very seriously. The watchtower is a pilgrimage for them twice a year and they have pictures from all the trips. One of them shows me a picture of glowing dots in a dark sky. UFOs, they say. The women have seen many of them.

Maybe that’s what Felix is. An alien. You think you’re married to a human only to find out he’s from another planet. That would change things up.

“You okay?”

Not Felix. It’s Krista. She’s back from the rock garden, looking tired and hung over but she’s in a good mood. It’s a nice surprise, and when I nod to her, she smiles wide. Happy up to her eyes.

“I love this place,” she says.

“You believe in aliens?”

“Why not?”

Why not.

Eddie is standing behind her. He’s wearing sunglasses, making it impossible to gauge his reaction. I can guess, though.

I introduce Krista to the women on the pilgrimage to get her out of the way. When Felix leaves to find the bathroom, I finally have a minute with Eddie.

“Tell me the truth,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow. “It’s a good thing Krista doesn’t say things like that, otherwise I’d start running.”

“Have you ever seen Felix smoke?” I ask.

“Smoke? You mean weed?”

“Cigarettes.”

He shakes his head. “Never. Why?”

“It’s probably nothing.”

A lie, mostly. If it were nothing, I wouldn’t have searched through his bag when he went out for a walk.

I’m not the kind who snoops. I’ve never felt a need to search through Felix’s phone, computer, or e-mail. My thing has always been if he’s going to do something bad, he’ll do it no matter what. No way to stop it, but plenty of ways to drive yourself crazy. Like I did this morning.

I didn’t find anything. No cigarettes, no lighter, nothing. He probably took them with him on the walk, or maybe they’re hidden outside. For half a second I considered rushing out to follow him.

I decided against it because I don’t want to be that woman. That wife. You know who I’m talking about because we’ve all seen her before.

One day, a woman appears to be in a healthy, happy relationship; the next day she’s in a movie of the week. It’s that dramatic. It’s that quick.

I think it happened to Eddie’s old girlfriend. He met Krista when he was still with Tracy. I hadn’t seen them for a while, but out of the blue Tracy starting e-mailing and calling, asking how I was, how Felix was, and had I heard from Eddie lately? It was so odd that I called Eddie to ask what was going on.

“Going on? What do you mean, going on?” he said.

“I mean, is Tracy okay?”

“What do you mean, is she okay?”

“You screwed up again, didn’t you?” I said. He started to answer with another question so I cut him off. “Just tell me.”

“I didn’t screw up on purpose,” Eddie said.

I hung up, not bothering to hear the details, already knowing Tracy had become That Woman. The one who searches through her partner’s things because she thinks he’s up to something. Because she knows he’s up to something. And Tracy was right.



* * *



–––––

At the moment, Eddie is listening to two alien watchers talk about all the ships they’ve seen. Felix, back from bathroom, is with them. I glance at the pockets of his khakis, looking for the outline of a cigarette box. Don’t see one.

I barge in, too tired to be polite. “Can I get the car keys?” I say. “I have to get something.”

He hands them over and says, “Be careful.”

It sounds patronizing. Has he always been patronizing and I just never realized it?

Maybe.

Yes, I search through Felix’s things. Again. This time I find what I’m looking for. Half a pack of cigarettes and a plastic lighter, old enough to have scratches. Not a one-time thing—he has a habit. Don’t know how I’ve missed it.

When I get over the shock, I feel horrible. Not because of him, because of me. I’m out here searching through his things because I couldn’t control myself. Because I couldn’t get this cigarette out of my mind, so I searched until I found proof and it doesn’t matter that I had to invade his privacy. I did it anyway.

Why didn’t I go outside and confront him while he was smoking? Why wait until I had to sneak around, rooting through his bags?

I know why. It’s because I’ve become the kind of wife I hate.





DAY, DATE, BLAH BLAH.



What would happen if it suddenly started raining puppies and kittens?

What the hell kind of question is this? They would all die and that’s horrible.

Really, I’ve got no time for this. I’m a little busy running this road trip, and these questions are pretty stupid. But when I get home I’m going to let the publisher of this journal know it’s a piece of crap.