[Del]'s Diary

ENTRY FIFTY-SIX

I’m riding Sugar’s body as I always do. Her steps now are so much more measured, so much more refined and full of grace. We are weaving in and out of stalls at a market. Then on a bus. Then through the back streets of Chinatown where she buys flowers. Then a taxi. Then another bus. I can’t understand what she is thinking. It seems we are crisscrossing all over the city. But she is often checking over her shoulder with sly little movements.

Finally, there is a door at the side of a brick building. Sugar walks in and up several flights of stairs. I can feel her quicken her step. A flash of her reflection in the window pane in the stairwell: she is radiant, beaming, and translucent. Like a ghost.

At the top of the final flights of stairs — was it four? Or five? Sugar finally opens the door to the hallway floor. At a door that simply says 7, Sugar takes out the keys with trembling hands. She is humming.

We walk in. The small cream painted apartment is full of nothing but white light and a kitchen table with two chairs. Sugar goes to the kitchen and pulls out an empty clean Heinz Beans tin can from underneath the sink. Fills it with water. Plops the flowers in. Arranges them and sets them on the table.

She stares out the window for a moment. Watches the busy street below. Her body feels content. This is not an emotion I’m used to wearing on Sugar.

I don’t know how long we wait until finally Sugar decides to use the washroom. She opens the door.

In the white porcelain tub there is a dark form bobbing in the water. It is a man. His face has been pushed to all sides from the waterlog but still I can’t tell it was Sugar’s golden boy. Sugar screams. Then quickly covers her mouth over and slumps to the floor, tears streaming down her face.

I think perhaps she should call the police but Sugar has different ideas. She washes and dries her face while the body continues to float in the water beside her. She gathers her things. Opens a window and then starts climbing down the fire escape. She doesn’t hurry. She is cool and calm.

Then another crisscross through the maze of the city only now her step is more hurried, clumsy, less graceful. The divergent smells assault me from all sides reminding me how isolated my room really is.

Then we are on a train. Sugar sits down opposite a tall handsome man with a shock of black hair, greased to one side. His face is affable, a kind face, and he has soft yet eager eyes that light up when he sees her, although she doesn’t seem to notice even though I do. Finally, he builds up the nerve to speak. “Pardon my intrusion, but aren’t you Maddy Walker?” he asks as smooth as cream cheese.

Sugar looks up at him and blinks, “Yes.” Inside she still trembles, but outwardly she plays it as cool as a cucumber.

“I thought so. I’m Charlie Burke. Governor Nicholl’s campaign manager. We met at his fundraiser.”

“Is that so?” she seems much less excited than he is at their reconnection. “And where are you off to, today?”

“San Francisco of all places. For a convention.”

“What a strange world,” Sugar declares, “That’s where I am going too. ‘Charlie’ you say your name is?”

He smiles broadly at her and nods, “I never cared much for my name until you said it just now.”

Sugar forces a small laugh. But inside, I can still hear her whimpers.

Sugar is too shaken to feel glad to be free of Hunter. But I’m not. I’m elated she's finally left him. For now, at least.

[Deleted]