Ic E

Ice By Roya Sorooshian 1/24/01 fin. 1/31/00

    It was cold. Very cold. Perle could only feel her nose if she scrunched
it up. She couldn't even feel Ben's hand holding hers until he squeezed it.
She swallowed. Every flower she saw was curling up into itself. She was cold
enough to do that too. But Ben wouldn't let her stop. He pulled her forward,
although the cold was getting to him too. Wrapping like a blanket around his
heart. But he'd heart stories of what happens if you fell asleep when you're
too cold. He couldn't let anything else happen to Perle. It was his fault
they were here, lost in the hills instead of somewhere warm. Earlier today
he’d packed his old blue Toyota (bought used before he’d even gotten his
permit) with his best tape mixes, a picnic lunch and his sunglasses. He had
picked Perle up and smiled when she got in the front seat. She held her
arms, so white in the dark blue tank top, and looked up shyly at Ben. He
turned on a tape and grinned at the whole world as he drove down the highway
running next to the ocean. Perle hadn’t talked much, but she smiled at the
sun in her face, and hummed a little. She even kept smiling when clouds
formed and the air grew cooler. They had their slightly chilly picnic on the
beach, and then Ben had turned around and seen the hills behind them. The
houses were like jewels, glowing on that gray day. He had pulled Perle to
her feet, and laughing, they ran to the car. Ben, drunk on Perle’s laughter
hadn’t seen the black, shiny car that was headed straight for them, just as
he rounded a corner. He sat, holding his head in his hands as the sound of a
siren got closer and closer. His car was a wreck, he was sure, and couldn’t
bring himself to open his eyes and face the destruction. Perle was silent,
and only when the police had left and the tow truck was gone, could he bring
himself to look at her. Her arms were bruised, and her collarbone ached. Ben
sat, dazed. Staring at the hills that had just minutes before been so
tantalizing and welcoming. Perle put her cold hand in his and her eyes asked
questions he couldn’t answer.
    Now it was different. Before, Perle had been smiling. Her milky skin had
pink tints instead of this blue pallor that was shining through now. His
need to protect her grew. She was more precious than her namesake. He always
had the urge to stand in front of her, to shield her. From treasure hunters.
 From the dark ocean. Or even from her own cold shell. She always seemed to
be on the other side of a wall. A wall made of something shiny, and cold.
Something that he could see her through, but could never quite get past.
Like a wall of ice. Earlier that day was the closest to melting the barrier
he had ever come. Before things had been sunny, everything he said had been
greeted with a smile. Before it had been an adventure. Now it was
frightening. It was almost bewitched. There was no one out. No cars driving
by, no dogs barking from the other side of chain link fences, no dark eyed
children running or playing. And now a cold film had fallen over both of
them. Perle didn't put up this shield. This cold was something neither of
them could control. Ben could feel his desperation mounting. Along with that
he felt a twinge of frustration. She would never trust him now. So he pushed
on, the cold making it difficult to speak.
    They were lower in the hills now, passing gravel lots and thrift stores,
which would have looked intriguing during the day, but were now the lair of
who-knows-what’s. The thought of all those discarded items that were once
loved, made Perle think of dark windows and loneliness. Although Ben had her
hand tight in his she felt cut off from him. She had been so happy earlier,
melting in the sun. When they had crashed, she had a brief glimpse of his
head hitting the steering wheel and his whole body jerking, before her head
had been yanked away. She thought he was dead. And it would have been her
fault. She wasn’t sure why she was here right now, like this. She wished she
had worn something warmer. Ben’s back frightened her. There were things
about him, things she didn’t know, about his life before she had met him.
But when she was with him she forgot about that, in his presence; his heat
and warmth and comfort. Like he had been down to the shores of the same
black, silent ocean she lived in but had battled his way out. But there was
still something about him, a look in his eyes that flickered in and out,
that frightened her. The way he held his forearm and his brown eyes turned
black. The way he glared – or grimaced, or winced – at things she couldn’t
even see. The way he was walking now, so fast by the dark corners, nearly
dragging her, running by the smashed bottles and cigarettes in the gutter.

Up ahead they could see the sidewalk turn to red, and to purple, from a neon sign shining above. They could hear the sound of voices, and laughter, that buzzed in and out like the sign that read Cobra's Nest. Perle swallowed again, and in they walked. Ben winced at the strong smells that hit him in the face. This was too familiar. Too close. He glanced at Perle, wondering what she knew about him. What she was thinking of him taking her into a lair like this. Perle opened her eyes wide at the color. She felt better in here, the smoke was like a curtain and she didn't feel so naked. Or so cold. There were bodies everywhere. Some standing by the bar on the opposite wall, glowing like strange aliens under the lamps with red and green shades. There were people perched all over a few couches in one corner. Clothing seemed to be optional. For the first time in her life Perle could imagine being warm enough to shed her protective layers. In the middle of the room there were people undulating wildly to what seemed to Perle to be the sweetest music she'd ever heard. Her heart grew and swelled with each pulsing second. She let go of Ben's hand, and watched open mouthed. Her head was swirling with the throbbing colors, and she wanted nothing more than to be in the middle of that floor, dancing away her skin. She looked down at her arms. They looked weak and pale compared to everyone else. She felt small again. Alone inside of her body. She turned to Ben. He took her hand, glad to have something to anchor himself, and led her through the room where they found two stools by the bar. From there they could see a doorway with a beaded curtain. They could hear more laughter and fierce sounds, like animals with bared claws, emitting from the hidden room. Perle was afraid again. A snaky woman, a tall and sinewy woman, with gold bands around her arms slithered up beside Ben. She noticed his interest in the doorway and smiled at him, showing all of her teeth. They were sharp and pointed. Perle could almost see a forked tongue. "Come with me" she hissed, taking both of them by their arms. Perle's eyes watered as SnakeWoman's nails dug into her flesh. She led them through a doorway, the beads letting them inside with the slightest of tinkling, like ice cubes in a glass. She led them into a room with mirrors covered the walls, the ceiling and the floor. Perle felt like she had, long ago, at a County Fair's funhouse. Her pale reflection jumped out at her from everywhere. She felt like she had when she heard their car hit the black one. The sound of broken glass, the sudden silence, the numbness, and then the stinging that enveloped her entire body. Perle thought her bones were icicles and might splinter and stab her any second. She clung to Ben, but he didn't squeeze her hand reassuringly like he had before. The muscles stood out on his forearm, and his reflection was a stranger. It was the same hard look she’d surprised in his eyes when she knew he was thinking of things, dangerous things, which she would never understand. She didn’t understand how hard it was to stay warm and strong all the time. All she knew was this ice feeling. She didn’t know what it was like to be the sun, yet crave the cold moon constantly. To be fire and crave ice water, snow, powder…

    SnakeWoman's grip on Ben's arm was firm, and warm. The tension in the
back of his neck slowly dissolved. The light from the mirrors bounced off of
SnakeWoman's gold bracelets and armbands, and made him think of molten lava
and fire, and warm bodies. He was tired of fighting this cold. Tired of
working so hard to stay warm. Tired of the pit of ice that had formed in his
stomach. He recognized this cold rock feeling. Remembered it, saw it
reflected in all of the mirrors. It took him back, to before the accident,
before Perle even. Suddenly he was back in that ocean, waves over his head,
losing feeling from the neck down like he was frozen alive inside of a block
of ice. It was the look he recognized in Perle’s eyes that had drawn him to
her in the first place. But she had been born like that. She had never
struggled with warring heat and cold the way he had. He was tired of it.
Tired of Perle's freezing hands, and frightened eyes. Tired of her blue
bruises, the way she watched him from all of these mirrors, the way she made
him remember and regret and numb and sting all over again. The heat from
SnakeWoman's body surrounded him and penetrated his body to the core. 
    SnakeWoman led them over to where there were 6 or 7 people with wide,
glassy eyes bent over a mirror. Ben dropped Perle's hand, and sank to his
knees beside SnakeWoman. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her powdered
venom. Perle swallowed a scream as he turned past her, and to the
SnakeWoman. A thousand invisible threads strangled her as she turned and ran
from the room. Ben, hypnotized by green and gold glinting eyes, didn't even
see Perle leave. Perle ran, gasping, and didn't even realize when someone
pressed a glass in her hand. Her throat still felt like she was being
strangled, so she drank it, and immediately some of the invisible cords that
had been holding her were severed. As she walked to the bar, the colors
seemed to brighten. That music was back, instead of the screeching, whining
noise that had filled her ears since SnakeWoman had appeared. She drank
another and laughed as SnakeWoman chased her rattle around in circles, only
to wither up and leave nothing but a skin, which also shriveled and faded
away. She drank another when she thought of Ben, thought of his eyes, dead
when he saw her. This was her fault too, this crash of his, and hers. She
saw herself reflected in the policeman’s helmet, small. Frightened. Saw
Ben’s body crumpled. Her bruises throbbed. She remembered the broken bottles
in the streets, the dark windows, and the huge black clouds accumulating
above the even darker ocean. She drank another when she thought of Ben, in
the other room, of his fierce reflection. She drank more when she thought
about his back, and more when she thought of her dropping his hand when she
saw the dancers. She was courageous now, by herself.  She dropped the cup
and pushed her way to the dancing. She stood, swaying in the middle of the
pulsating crowd. She was pushed, and pulled, one way then another. She
closed her eyes when the colors were too bright, but she could still see
them, as if they were painted on the inside of her eyelids. There was
nothing to do but dance, and so she danced. The bruises faded, or multiplied
– her whole body was throbbing so that one bruise didn’t mater. This wasn’t
the body that Ben had dragged behind him, the body that had caused the
accident, the body that he’d turned away from, the body that was always so
cold, so frozen. Her body wasn't her own anymore, which was just the way she
wanted it. She had always hated being Perle. Pearl, pale, small and cold.
And so she danced.
    Ben woke, crying. He had dreamt of Perle, that she was a mirror, and
when he reached out to touch her, she shattered, turning to white, white
dust. He staggered past the still forms on the cold floor and out where the
music pounded in his ears and every face leered at him. He stumbled over a
discarded glass, and when he looked up again he could see her. She was
spinning and spinning like a madwoman. As he watched she went faster, and
faster, the music changed to something desperate. Like fear and rage. She
twirled and twirled, around and around...
    She could see the tops of everyone's heads now. Her feet had left the
ground, and still she twirled. Higher and higher. The air was turning the
brightest white she had ever seen. Brighter than snow, than ice, than
anything. She got cold all of a sudden, and could feel her eyelashes as they
beat wildly against her cheeks. She could see a glass ceiling just above
her, and at the last crystal moment, she crashed through, still spinning.
She took a breath of fresh air and felt her lungs shatter like the ceiling.
The sky was white but she could close her eyes now. She wasn’t going to have
to watch again as Ben held war within himself, whether or not to open his
eyes. She could be the one to lay her head down, be the one with her back to
Ben. She could rest, if she wanted, not at the mercy of the falling night,
or someone’s longer stride. She could close her eyes. And so, still
spinning, she did.
    Ben watched as Perle spun around and around, faster and faster and
faster. The crowds were pressed against him and wouldn't let him move, even
as the music reached feverpitch. Faster and faster... then for one split
second, time stopped. Perle's eyes opened and met his, and he felt her cool
breath on his cheek like he'd felt so many times before. He felt an
invisible hand squeeze his. The hand that had waken him from his stupor,
which had anchored him to earth, which had been so willingly pulled, which
he had uprooted. The hand that never seemed to get warm. Then time
continued, louder and more glaring than the sound of two cars colliding. He
watched as Perle crumpled to the floor. He watched as the screeching white
ambulance took away her body. And he watched as the last few people
disappeared off into the night, which was now colder than it had ever been
before.