Chapter 8. Arrested Development
“One of the most important things I’ve learned is that it’s nearly impossible to tell when you’ve lost perspective. Sometimes the brutal honesty of a stranger is what gets you back on the path.”
– Cris’s Journal
Ann Arbor, Michigan
“Have fun. Call me if you need anything.” Emma dropped her sister off at the Diag, the central park of the university campus, in the early evening after Cris’s part in Kara’s birthday party had wrapped up. She nodded, taking her bag with her. It took only a few moments of searching under the glare of the glowing streetlamps before Cris recognized the musically inclined trio wrapping up an acoustic piece on the far side of the park. She made her way over to the Bards and took a seat, opening her bag to let the furry former kitten known as Bixby onto her lap.
“Sorry for being late. Had to help Tabby finish cleaning up,” Cris said.
“It’s all good, amiga, just gettin’ ready to take a break,” Geroge responded.
“Cris.” Daron, the band’s boyishly handsome European bassist, nodded. “A pleasure. We’re gonna make a Steaks & Shakes run. Care to join us?”
Cris looked over the regal feline, who appeared disgruntled at being carried in a bag, and shook her head. She took in the scene, enjoying the bright lights and cool breeze of the late-night downtown air.
“I’ll be all right. Been a while since I’ve been downtown. I’ll hang out here and watch your stuff.”
“Fair enough,” Geroge said. “Jeany?”
“I’d prefer shit to that grease, thanks.”
“There’s that irresistible charm! Love you too, darlin’.”
Geroge chuckled as he and Daron headed down the street to the van. Cris let Bixby out of her lap, catching the scent of James & Jonathan’s sandwiches drifting in the air. Her stomach rumbled, and she ignored it. For whatever appetite she might’ve had, nothing seemed appealing. Her thoughts began to wander as she carelessly gazed upon her cat playing in the grass.
The furrlicious fur ball, Allister Theodore Bixby III, Esq., stalked the verdant green he had fallen upon, keeping a watchful eye on the residents of his newly discovered dandelion kingdom. He had escaped the handbag of his handmaiden to explore the free world once more.
The feline liege maintained tight control of his new realm and quickly established his borders. He would not be surprised or overtaken by any wayward waddle-feathers. He’d been forced to retreat from an expedition once before by the annoying civilization of quack-quacks. It was an incident unforgotten, that could never be allowed to reoccur. With time he had grown larger, stronger, fatter. With time, he had become a full-grown cat.
He stretched, readying his kitty muscles. The night air bringing him to life, the regal feline sprinted circles around his area of operations, intimidating anything foolish enough to challenge him. To prove his might, he assaulted a white, flowery sort of plant swaying nearby. A tuft of pollen wafted into his furry, pink nose. Unable to rebel its unusual tactics, he sneezed. His plans were not going as intended. He could not remain undignified in such a manner. Clearly, it was a sign that the inspection of his dominion should be put on hold, until after he had a chance to recuperate. It was time for a catnap. Yawning, the noble meow-meow crawled back into his over-scented handmaiden’s lap and rested his fuzzy eyelids.
Cris snapped out of her daze, petting Bixby and making him cozy while she scooted around. She tried to find a comfortable spot against a tree, all the while taking care not to disturb the sleepy cat. Neither she nor the feline himself was fond of his rude awakenings. Watching the small Asian woman with a large personality, she realized how little she and Jence had spoken over the past few months.
“So, Jence—”
“Shut it, princess.”
“What?”
Cris recoiled, looking around to see if there were medieval role players dueling behind them, or perhaps some other crazy random happenstance she had missed.
“I’m not one of your fairytale friends,” Jence started. “Seen what you do to them—you’re the last person standing. You’re only here because G decided to babysit you until your runaway boyfriend comes back, and it’s getting a little old. Doesn’t give you an all-access pass to trample on our lives like you’re the Almighty.”
“Jence, I never—”
“Shut your mouth? Learn your place? Eat real food?” Jence asked, poking Cris where her gut should be. “I can see that. I know it never crossed your mind—anything other than your own problems seldom does—but for the record, I like Alma. She’s the one who got the raw deal out of your debacle—not you. Don’t forget that.”
Cris closed her mouth, looking over the acoustic guitar lying between herself and Jence. She tried to think of something to say, or to even figure out where Jence was coming from, but she had nothing. Bixby rolled over in her lap, brushing his tail against her leg. She rubbed his belly, startling the feral prince. He gnashed at her hand in retaliation as he awoke. Cris jumped, flinging the cat out of her lap toward Jence as she tried to get away from Bixby’s traumatic claws. Jence shifted to the side, moving away from the cat and directing a glare at Cris.
“Are you kidding me?” Jence asked.
“It was an accident, okay? And I don’t know what your problem is, but I don’t owe you anything. I don’t care if you like Alma better, or think I’m trashy, or whatever else. Not that it’s any of your business, but yes I slept with my best friend’s boyfriend, and I’m glad I did. I’m in love with him. And you know what? It wasn’t a one-way deal: Kody slept with me too. He’s just as culpable for what happened, and I’m tired of taking all the heat for it, got it?”
Jence scoffed, cocking an eye at Cris while she scooped the cat up by its waist and tossed it back toward Cris. Cris caught the noble feline, who was now calm, though less dignified, being used as an improvised hacky sack, and held him close in her lap as she watched Jence.
“We’re going for a little walk.”
Cris hesitantly stood up and waited while Jence put the guitar into its case and slung it on her back. She started down the sidewalk, barely waiting for Cris to catch up.
“Maybe I was a little irrational; let me start again. I dislike you, but don’t mistake that for thinking I dislike you enough to care about you.” Jence led her across the street and past the Diag Deli, the scent of freshly baked pizza wafting in the air. “I don’t even think about you most of the time, except for when you’re being whiney at G. It’s irritating.”
“Sorry I’m irritating,” Cris replied sarcastically.
“It’s that pretentious stuck-up attitude I’m talking about. This isn’t about you.”
Cris looked over to Jence, the latter throwing her arm in front of Cris to stop her from walking into oncoming traffic in front of the State Theater. Cris shrugged apologetically and kept her eyes on the path in front of her.
“I quit the band for a while. When we first got back from the campsite in Tennessee.”
“What?” Cris asked.
“Nothing to do with you, princess. It was right after my mom’s wedding. She’s been married at least…five times now, and yet she keeps going. You could say I’m skeptical, but she swears she’s happy every time, so who am I to judge?” They crossed in front of the former headquarters of an old bookstore. “Made me think—can a person be themselves if they restrict their lifestyle to accommodate just one other person?”
“I don’t really—”
“Quiet, princess. That’s not your line,” Jence interrupted. “I’m not one for lifestyle changes. I get comfy, I stay comfy. But graduation screwed everything up. Thteve left for college—didn’t so much as tell me he was going until he was gone. Just left me and G. And Daron.”
The two continued down the road, passing a large parking structure and small nightclub at an intersection. They made their way through the crowded late-night streets, Cris holding Bixby close for comfo
rt.
“Anyway, it’s like I said before—can a woman be herself if she’s bound to another person? Especially someone like G…heh, well you should know. More or less the same as dating Kody, I guess, except hairier. So anyway, I left. Left the band, left G.”
Jence led Cris across the street to the entrance of the parking structure. They made their way inside the lobby. She hit the elevator button and waited as they watched people far too underdressed for a brisk fall evening pass by outside.
“Why would you—?” Cris started.
“You have a listening problem. You might wanna look to that. I left because the life I made didn’t fit me anymore.” The elevator opened, beckoning the two ladies and their feline companion inside. They watched the people of the evening get smaller as the elevator ascended.
“Problem was, leaving didn’t fix that. I avoided the Bards for over a month, but I still felt out of place—I just had nowhere to do it at. Could’ve gone back to G at any time, but being with that man… it’s like approaching the event horizon. You know you’re headed toward something dangerously amazing—something you’ll never fully comprehend—but the moment you cross that threshold you can’t turn back. Also, there’s a whole analogy about getting crushed. He’s not a light guy.” A small smirk crossed Jence’s face.
“Anyway, I did what any smart person would do.”
Cris looked over to Jence, eyebrow raised.
”Made a booty call.” Jence laughed depreciatingly at herself as they exited the elevator on the top floor. “Might’ve been a mistake, but I still don’t like the idea of restricting myself, even if it is G. And I’ve known him since I dumped sand down the back of his diaper, if that says anything.”
They exited onto the roof, Jence leading Cris over to the ledge of the parking structure. Jence leaned out over the ledge, dragging Cris with her. They stood leaning just over the boundary, overlooking the Michigan Theater and the city itself underneath the bright city lights.
“I’ve told you before, princess—I dislike you. But that has nothing to do with trying to be a decent person every now and again. I told you that story because even I can be a scrot sometimes and wuss out. But at the end of the day you’re still alive, so quit being a whiney priss and get over your damage.”
“Jence…”
“Shut up. You might sing well, but you’re still irritating. Besides, I get the feeling you’re about five seconds away from saying YOLO, and I don’t want to get arrested for tossing your skinny ass off this roof.”
Jence unslung the guitar, leaving it by Cris as she made her way across the roof of the parking structure to the other exit.
“Where’re you going?” Cris called out.
Jence flicked up her middle finger and held it high as she disappeared down the staircase. Cris remained on the cold rooftop, taking in the sight of the city as she mulled over what Jence had said. Looking down at herself, she could see Jence wasn’t entirely wrong—she had lost too much weight.
Cris kissed the back off the royal fur ball’s head, the august cat returning the affection in kind on her lightly scarred, freckle-stained cheek. Cris jumped at the sound of the rooftop doors opening, Geroge and Daron joining her.
“What’re you two doing here? I thought you went to get burgers.”
“It was G’s turn to buy,” Daron said.
“Yeah, well…Jeany kinda swiped my wallet. Again,” G responded.
Is that why she ran off so quickly, crossed Cris’s mind.
“You two followed us?”
“What? Of course we weren’t eavesdropping. That’s crazy! We were conducting espionage. It’s much cooler,” Geroge replied.
“Spying on your girlfriend, huh?” Cris asked.
“Which I’m sure would be all kinds of unethical if you ignore the kleptomania. We happened to spot you two while we tryin’ to find my wallet. Anyway, Jeany’ll be fine—just gotta give her space.”
Cris sighed, unwilling to debate ethics, particularly after Jence’s exposition on the philosophy of self-development, or her particular lack thereof.
“So what’s the game plan for tonight?” she asked.
“Well, still haven’t eaten, so I guess we find something cheap down here,” G started.
“Something I’m sure G will be happy to reimburse,” Daron added.
“Ri—ght. And then we can go from there,” G finished.
Cris nodded, handing G his guitar as the three of them headed for the elevator. They piled in, watching the people grow larger as the lift began to lower. The regal fur ball yawned a whiskery kitty yawn from atop his mobile human throne as the three continued their descent into the night below.