KaliA Story by Saranyamy first short story.To Siran, walking the runway was like jumping
off a cliff. Hovering behind the glass divider, with her toes pinched and
curled, she could see the strobe flash of spotlights and cameras. The first
step was always hard, but she tried not to think about it anymore. And once she
jumped, she was flying. The wind machine twisted her hair behind her head and
ballooned the ends of the chiffon around her bare legs as she glided across the
tiled strip. She was bathed in a white glow, sprinting in slow motion through a
blur of faces. Chin down, shoulders back, she swung her hips low. Prominent
bones rippled under the tight bronzed skin of her shoulders and legs, her
vertebrae cascading smoothly down her back. Fifteen steps pause, turn and
glare. Her bright eyes pierced the air above the sea of heads, and she wished she
could stay like this forever, flying, heart pounding to the beat of the music
and the flash of the lights. But all too fast the ground clouded her vision,
fifteen steps and she crashed back into a chaos of hairspray fumes, half-naked
models, and fire-eyed managers screaming into their earpieces. The life of a model
wasn't as glamorous as she had hoped when she first walked into Andrea's
modeling agency. She was sixteen, with sapling legs and small waist. Andrea had
told her to find a different agency, she was “completely booked”, but Siran
being a stubborn teenager decided that she would wait until a spot opened.
Andrea realized she was there to stay when she almost trampled the blanket clad
Siran, who had brought a sleeping bag and camped out in front of her door.
Andrea agreed to sign Siran, and in a matter of months her life had become a
blur, a constant wave of motion that smeared her periphery with Technicolor.
While the exhilaration and ecstasy carried her through the first shows and
shoots, and fancy dinners, the bliss faded away, flaring up only at the flash
of a camera and the turn of a catwalk. She was tired. She remembered her first
day at the agency. That was the day she’d met Kali. Kali had been with Andrea’s
company for two years when Siran first joined. Andrea had been laying out
multicolor forms for Siran to sign, spreading them like a card deck across her
wooden desk. Siran remembered reaching for one of the monogramed pens in
Andrea’s cup holder when Kali walked in. Tall, with olive skin and inky
black hair, she walked into the office with a grace that left Siran speechless,
arm still extended toward the penholder. “Hey Andy, Mark wanted
me to tell you to fax him my schedule for March, he needs--Oh hi!” Kali said. Siran snapped her mouth
shut and quickly directed her stare to a point on the wall behind Kali’s head.
There were a few seconds of silence as Siran pressed her lips tightly together.
“Quiet one huh? Mark’s
gonna have a field day with her. My name is Kali by the way.” Siran eyes flickered
momentarily to the right and she noticed how perfectly straight Kali’s two
off-white rows of teeth were. Kali gave a small laugh and after grabbing some
papers from Andrea, strode quickly past the frosty glass door. Siran watched as
the flesh toned jumbles of color danced across the glass, slowly fading back to
a grayish blue. Kali never failed to
remind her of that moment. “Jesus I thought you
were going to faint or something. I’m not that intimidating am I?” And Kali
would claw at Siran, brows furrowed and teeth bared in mock anger. That was the
great thing about Kali. She never seemed to take herself too seriously. She was
a natural charmer, even Genevieve, the cold hearted Norwegian girl, managed to
crack a smile whenever Kali burst into the room. “Boo!” “Jesus Christ!” She clutched her chest as she
tried to shake the Kali off her back. “Guess
what today is!” Siran peeled Kali’s arms from around her waist and stared at
her with a raised eyebrow. “Monday?”
“No"well
yes, but more importantly, today is your two month mark! I didn’t think you’d
make it, but here you are. And I got you somethi"S**t. Where did I put it?”
Siran stared curiously as Kali patted her pockets, and rummaged through her
bag. Finally Kali pulled out a velvet blue box and got down on one knee “You
haven’t taken a drag in over two months. The ashtray on the table has remained
unused. And I no longer have to Febreze the room every three days. I’m so proud
of you” Kali looked up at Siran with big eyes and a bright smile. A few seconds
passed. “Am
I supposed to say ‘I do’” Siran asked amusedly. The
smile dropped and Kali huffed, pushing herself into a standing position. “Way
to ruin the moment a*****e. Anyways, here,” She held out the blue box. Siran
gently lifted a thin gold chain out if the box’s creamy interior. “I
didn’t have enough money for a charm. Maybe I’ll get you something if you make
it to ten months.” Siran
nodded quietly. About a year after Siran
had met Kali. Kali had officially left home and they had both thrown themselves
into an intense training regimen. Since Kali didn’t have a place of her own,
she stayed at Andrea’s, and wherever Kali was, Siran wasn’t far behind. They
took over Andrea’s small loft, settling into a somewhat normal, hectic,
routine. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The strawberries
smoothed out into a creamy pink as the blades of the blender rotated. Siran
didn’t believe in drinking coffee. She’d read somewhere that it caused water
retention and bloating. Needless to say Andrea was pissed to find her expensive
java blend replaced with cans of wheatgrass shots. “Remind me again why my
coffee is missing?” She asked as Siran moved around the kitchen, pouring the
creamy mixture into three glasses. The tall girl strode over and placed a glass
in front of Andrea, using her free hand to poke ate her manager’s belly .Kali
snickered as she shuffled into the kitchen, pulling up her pajama pants as the
fabric slid down her hips. “That’s why.” Andrea glared at her and
Siran, then slowly took a sip of her shake. “See, isn’t it good?” Andrea merely
grunted. “Well excuse me miss ‘don’t eat stuff that’s bad for you’”, Siran bent
her fingers at Andrea. Kali grabbed the other glass and sat next to Andrea who
looked thoroughly disgruntled. “Like you two ever
listen to me.” It was true. Andrea had
always been incredibly strict with their diets, especially once the duo started
catching the eyes of higher level designers. Siran would be good. She’d limit
her diet, record her calories, and cut the sugar and fat…when she was with
Andrea. Kali on the other hand ate whatever she wanted. As a “senior” model,
she knew when and where to get the best chips or the biggest Snickers bars, and
was Siran’s main source of junk food. They almost never got caught, though the
last time they cut it pretty close. It had been earlier that week, after a long
cardio session with Mark. They were exhausted and panting, hands placed on bony
knees as they struggled to get air. Mark’s sessions were brutal. Kali had said
the only way to actually recover from them was to replenish all the salt and
calories they had burned. When they left the studio, they took a shortcut past
Clarkson Avenue, which ran directly across from a McDonalds. They hid the loot
in their totes and snuck through the back of the agency’s building. There was a
closet on the fourth floor where they usually stashed their stuff. They had
just finished the burgers when they heard some voices and footsteps. They
quieted immediately, staring at each other. A few minutes passed. “I think they’re gone.” Kali
nodded and they stared at each other for a moment before dissolving into quiet
giggles, bodies relaxing into each other as the greasy yellow plastic between
them crinkled. Kali “Oh my God that was
close!” Kali mumbled around a mouthful of fries. Siran had chuckled as she
tilted her head back and tapped the bottom of the bag to get the rest of the
potato bits. They ate until the flat
expanse of their abdomen formed a slight curve. Then they waddled into the
bathroom. Not bothering to lock the door behind them. The first time had been
hard for Siran. She’d almost given up, but Kali had cheered her on, back
pressed against the plastic door of the stall. “Try it again” Kali looked at the girl
bent over the toilet, toothbrush in hand. “C’mon Siran, just stick
it down farther and wiggle it a bit, it’ll work this time.” Siran twisted her
hair back and braced her elbows on the commode. She stared at the end of the
cheap plastic toothbrush. There was a bump in the plastic that kept scratching
against the roof of her mouth. Kali poked her and gave her a pointed look.
Siran took a deep breath and pushed the thin plastic down the back of her throat.
She moved it around once the back of her thumb hit her lip. Kali smiled proudly
as Siran’s lunch mixed with the chemicals in the toilet. “See, I said you could
do it didn't I?" You’ll definitely make the cut for John’s show this
time.” She opened her arms and Siran melted in to them, legs bent across the
cheap linoleum floor. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was Paris fashion
week and she had been asked to open for The John Calliano Summer collection.
She stuck her head around the side paneling of the runway and watched the men
drag chairs into parallel lines next to the runway. A sick fluttering in her
stomach greeted her, and she let her tongue trace the smooth surface of her
teeth. It was a bad habit. Kali said her teeth would stick out if she kept on
doing it. But it was the only thing that could calm Siran, besides the soft
touch of Kali’s hand on the small of her back. Kali wasn’t here though. Since she
was closing the show, she had been summoned by the Andrea to go over last
minute details. Kali had given a Siran a quick a hug and a small fist pump as
the crew put finishing touches on the backdrops and okayed the audience seating
arrangements. Suddenly Siran’s body was suddenly screaming for air. Walking briskly through
the halls, she pushed past coordinators and dodged crew members as they steered
tall racks of rainbow tulle and sheer nylon.
She pushed open the side entrance to the building, propping a brick between
the door and the wall. Plucking a cig from her pocket she watched as the end
glowed orange. She licked the back of her teeth and took a drag. It was quiet
outside and her eyes followed the shadows as they dripped down the side of the
building. It was funny really how quickly she took to the little white
cylinder. It hung perfectly from the side of her chapped lips. She’d always
hated the smell of smoke, hated how it seemed to cling everywhere, like an
invisible gray fog. When she was little, her father used to drive her to school
in his beat up Honda, and she’d keep her face close to the cracked window,
breathing in the cold air. He’d cough a quick goodbye and give her a kiss,
watching as she’d jump out of the car, palm rubbing the smoke stains off her
cheek. There was a slight commotion behind the door and Siran pushed herself
off the wall, grinding her second stub in to the gray pavement before slipping
back into the hazy hairspray commotion. Siran listened to the music. It was a colorful
techno track and she tapped her heel, waiting for her cue to walk. Between her,
Siran, and Genevieve was a young model named Johanna. With fair skin and bright
pink hair, she stood around the same height as Kali; if she straightened up
maybe she would be an inch taller. Kali turned watched as Kali motioned to the
black clad crew member who held up two fingers. Kali gave him a thumbs up and
turned to Johanna. "Straighten up, and don't swing your hips. I saw you
walk for John. You looked confident. Do the same here. Pace yourself and when
you get to the end, turn slowly." Johanna looked startled to be the
subject of Kali’s interest and Siran was equally mesmerized as Kali put her
hands on Johanna’s shoulders. "Our concept is summer. Summer equals fun
and that's what you have to sell. Look lively and don't glower, remember this
is not couture. And remember to smile. Can you do that?" Johanna nodded
slowly, and after a pointed look, let her red lips stretch across her teeth. Siran
was momentarily stunned by the whiteness of her teeth. God she was young. The
music changed pace and the girls shuffled back into order, Kali stepping behind
Siran. The guy across the wall started a silent countdown. 5. 4. 3. 2. And
Siran took her first step, gliding down the aisle, stopping momentarily to give
the audience a playful smirk, lips closed tight over yellow, acid-worn teeth. The final walk had gone fairly smoothly. Johanna
had tripped over Genevieve's train, earning her an icy glare, but it was
towards the end of the runway, so she was able to stumble away quickly behind
the curtains. Siran saw Kali grin, and laughed to herself as Johanna lightly patted
her flushed face, peeking around for any witnesses to her blunder. She gave
Johanna a quick smile and rounded the corner to her vanity. After shimmying out
of her gown, with a little help from a passing stage manager, she wrapped one
of the embroidered event robes around her thin frame, and sat on the cushioned
stool in front of the vanity. The lights were bright around the mirror,
momentarily blinding her before she could focus on the reflection. The concept
for the show had been summer neon, and Siran commended the makeup artists. An
orange rose blush bloomed across the tops of her cheek bones, almost melting
into the bright purple geometrics that stemmed from her eyelids. Lifting her
chin and twisted her neck, she decided that she looked like an alien bird of
paradise. They had bleached her eyebrows for this show, and she was still
caught off guard as the strange creature in the mirror stole a glance at her.
As much as Siran loved the concept, she thought it best to remove the art that
had been so carefully painted across her face. It was muggy outside, and she
hated the feeling of foundation dripping down her neck. "Hey." She jumped at the sudden voice in her right ear.
Turning she was met with Andrea’s face. Siran quickly started to wipe away at
her makeup; the twitch in Andrea's left eye and the steady drumming of fingers
on her shoulder gave her a five minute warning. There was a dinner event at
ten; a fancy event where she'd adorn the arm of some high strung, black
jacketed something-or-other who had just made a name for himself in the
business world. "It's good for your image," Andrea had reassured her
last week, as Siran had picked at her salad. She scrunched up her nose and
scoffed as she rubbed the mascara from her lower lashes. Nagging about photo
shoot schedules she could deal with. Arguing about cosmetic contracts? No
problem. But when the conversation turned to her personal life? No way in hell. Siran dragged her tongue
across the back of her teeth as the car pulled up to Andrea’s place. As much as
she was not looking forward to the dinner, she was glad for an excuse to get
out of the apartment. Andrea was all about appearance, and her apartment looked
like it came out of an Ikea magazine. Unfortunately, her furniture was not
designed for comfort, especially the couch. Siran liked to come back as late as
possible, so her exhaustion could drown out the twinge in her back and the
strain in her neck. Hell, the couch in her own apartment, well the one she
shared with Kali, wasn’t even as bad as Andrea’s. Even though it was a floral
piece of s**t, she remembered sprawling across it, legs tangled with Kali’s as
they caught up on the latest episode of Top Model. Siran dragged her fingers
through her hair. She’d take twenty minutes of Tyra’s bitching over a date with
this pinstriped douchebag any day. The cab dropped her off
at Andrea’s after the party, around three in the morning, and she pulled
herself up the steps, heels slipping in her stilettos. It took her a good ten
minutes to fish the key out of her purse, and another five to get in into the
lock. When she finally managed to push open the door, her long legs raced for
the bathroom. Her knees made a sickening
thud as they hit the tile, and she put her hands on the side of the commode to
steady herself. Her stomach rolled and she watched the toilet fill with her
half eaten appetizer and a couple shots of vodka. Wincing she lifted her head,
only to put it back down when another wave of nausea hit. She heard the
bathroom door open, and turned her head away. Steady hands pulled her up, and
grabbed the bottle of painkillers, which had been kept in the forefront of the
cabinet. She could feel Kali’s thin frame strain to pull her up, and they both
stumbled as the she maneuvered them to the couch. She made out a soft rattle
and clink as the pills were set on the coffee table with a glass of water.
Shifting, she turned to face the back of the couch, and faded into the black
leather, numb to the sharp corners and uncomfortable edges. They day they got the news, both of the girls
had been extremely tired. After the success of their last show, the agency had
been pushing them harder. They had barely endured another one of Mark’s cardio
sessions, and all hopes of a snack break had flown past them as they were
hurried to walking practice. Siran abs were killing her as she twisted her
torso, crossing her feet as she moved forward. Kali had just finished her walk,
and was slumped against the wall, a bottle of Dasani dangling from her hand.
Just as Siran was about to make her final turn, Andrea stormed in, waving a
piece of paper in the air. “We did it!” She did a little victory dance as Kali
turned to look up at her, cheek balanced in her palm. “What exactly did we do?” “John has personally requested you,” she turned
to Siran, “Both of you to open for him at the Venice Fashion show. This is
huge!” there was a moment of silence, as both girls attempted to comprehend the
situation. Kali was the first to react, though her words were vaguely
incomprehensible. She pushed herself up from the floor and skipped to the
stage, almost tripping on the edge of her sweatpants. She wrapped her arms
around Siran’s legs and lifted her off the runway; the both clung to each other
Kali rubbing the other Siran’s back as she started to tear up. “We did it” she whispered burying her face in
Siran’s sweaty neck. They had flown into the
San Marco airport around three in the morning a month later. Ray Bans covering
puffy eyes, she, Kali, and Andrea collected their bags and slept most of the
drive to the hotel. It was almost four in the afternoon when Siran had finally
woken up. Andrea was still sleeping, earplugs blocking the soft buzz of the
Italian soap opera that had Kali entranced. When she saw that Siran was awake
she mouthed “Let’s go” and pointed out the window. The streets were overflowing
with laughter, lights, and the smell of dirty water. Above her, stretched rows upon
rows of balconies, adorned with flowers and drying laundry. It was almost six
and the two girls were slowly making their way back to the hotel. There was a
yell and a few men, followed closely by two police officers, ran past Siran
with tarps full of cheap purses slung over their shoulders. Their plastic
sandals slapped across the cobblestones and she watched as their figures melted
into the crowd ahead. She wanted to chase after them, but settled for
disappearing into the crowd, letting it embrace her as she held tightly to Kali’s
hand. They walked past a gelato shop three floors below their balcony. Next to
the gelato shop there was a mask store, and Kali was transfixed, dragging Siran
behind her through the glass doors.. The store smelled like
plaster, old paper, and paint. The man behind the counter yelled something at
them in Italian and Siran nodded politely, holding back a laugh as Kali
imitated the man. She walked to the other end of the shop, turning to peruse
the rack of masks. There were some with hooked noses, and grotesque grins; she
edged away from them just in case they tried to snap at her. The masks farthest
from the counter caught her eye. She picked up a black one, made of wire that
had been coated in a generous amount glitter. “That would look amazing
on you. Actually no, wait,” Kali rifled through the display “Try the red one.”
Carefully Siran wrapped the fiery wire around her face and stared at her
reflection in the screen of her Blackberry. “That looks hot. I’m
getting it for you.” Siran sputtered in protest, but Kali held up her hand,
“Nope nope nope. I’m getting it end of story. The next one’s on you though.” She brought out her wad
of money from her passport pocket, stowing the small bag safely back in her
blouse. Siran started to untie the back
but a slight resistance stopped her. The curved swirl at the edge had caught in
her curls. She quickly glanced at the storekeeper and then at Kali and
panicked. She tried to work the mask out of her hair. Finally with a tug it
came loose, but the force threw her elbow back and knocked over a row of purple
feathered eye masks. “S**t” She felt a slight
tremor in the wood beneath her and looked up to see the red-faced storekeeper
storming in her direction. “Look at sign. No
touch.” The bulky man paused to take a breath and stare at them. His drooping
cheeks lifted though when he noticed the tight chunk of euro notes that Kali held
tightly in her fist. “Ah, ah, you want mask?
Here I wrap it for you free of charge. I give best price. You no find anywhere
with better price.” The two girls looked at each other and went towards the
counter. As they left, they heard the man say “Scicco straniero”. “Remind me to look that
up when we get back.” They laughed about it
later when they found out it meant “stupid foreigner”. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was ten in the
morning. The venue was packed with energetic staff members, and tired models,
running through their last fittings with the designers. Siran excused herself
to the bathroom, eager to find reprieve from Andrea’s incessant chatter. They
had been running through the order of events for the third time that morning,
though she knew the routine well. Siran walked down the marble hallway, past a
few men dressed in dashing maroon and gold uniforms. She had to admit the venue
was nicer than her previous show here. Kali loved the ambiance of the hall,
with it’s the golden accents on the crown molding, the thick red carpet, and
the blinding crystal chandeliers. Andrea had to almost physically drag her to
the dressing rooms. Siran let her fingers catch on the corner of the wall as
she turned towards the restrooms. The light dimmed to a soft orange glow as she
entered, and She turned as the door opened again, and saw Kali walk in. “You okay” “Yeah, just a bit
nervous.” Siran started her pacing but Kali hand pulled her to a stop. “That’s not going to
help, trust me. I know a better way to relax. First take off your shoes” “Why do I need to take
off my shoes?” “Because it’s fun.” Kali
said, picking up one of the hand towels, “And those heels look killer.” She
waved the towel under the faucet. The water was cold, and after wringing out
the towel, she brought it to Siran’s face. She could feel the lines on her
forehead relax under the cool terrycloth. After a few moments. Kali pulled the
cloth off of Siran’s face. “Better?” Siran nodded “Good, now it’s time for
me to offer my prayers to the porcelain gods.” “Idiot, you should’ve
done before going to Hair and Makeup.” “Yeah yeah whatever just
hold it back for me. I really don’t want to hear the hairstylist’s life story
again. I literally thought I was going to die of boredom. Like you don’t
understand, I could feel my heart shriveling in my chest.” Kali continued her
complaints as she bent down in front of the toilet. Siran rolled her eyes and
gently pulled back the girl’s teased black locks while she emptied her stomach.
After Kali brushed her teeth, both girls headed back to the dressing area,
bracing themselves for the commotion and drama that was sure to come. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A loud crash came from Kali’s
dressing room. Siran jumped and looked over to see her storm out of the room,
robe flaming behind her, with a long piece of ivory fabric trailing from her
fist. “What the hell is this?”
A few startled staff members fumbled towards the tall girl. One of them, an
intern probably because Siran didn’t recognize her, asked in a small voice, “I l-left it in your
room miss, on the rack. It’s y-your dress for"“ “I know what my f*****g
dress looks like, but please explain to why this doesn’t fit!” “I-I’m sorry, I don’t,
I"I “ At this point the intern was wringing her trembling hands. Siran didn’t
blame her. Kali looked like a banshee, eyes glittering, hair teased into an
inky black halo. Siran opted to stay in her chair. She knew how bad it was to
be on the receiving end of one of Kali’s tantrums. “Just get me another
dress. And so help me if it doesn’t fit like a glove…” Siran waited a few
moments as Kali cooled down, watching the intern’s small form scramble between
the maze of dress racks. “That was a bit harsh.
Didn’t you give your measurements to John a couple weeks ago?” Kali sighed, her face
relaxing into weary lines. “Yeah. It was probably
just a mix-up” She stared at Siran for a moment before excusing herself to the
bathroom. Siran waited for Kali to
return. Andrea had just about gone into hysterics, nearly crying when the Kali
finally stumbled out of her dressing room. The relief was short lived when
Siran noticed something off. Kali’s eyes were slightly bloodshot, and as she
got into place in front of Siran, she swayed unevenly, her designer heels barely
finding purchase in the floor. Starting off on her left foot, Kali stumbled
onto the runway half a beat behind the music. Siran felt Andrea and the other
models tense behind her, eyes trained on the flickering figure striding
unevenly across the TV screen. No one breathed as Kali approached the end of
the runway. She was supposed to pose, tilt her chin and put her hand on her
hip, just like in rehearsal. They all watched as Kali’s hand slowly crept up her
chest, clenching the gauzy beige fabric. And then she fell. The light murmuring of
the crowd escalated into cries of surprise as Kali dropped, limbs cascading sharply
onto the cold tile of the catwalk. Three people in orange vests ran past Siran
onto the stage, yelling loudly over the music. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Sbrigati! Dammi l’ago. “Passare il atropina” Siran couldn’t even hold
Kali’s hand as EMTs tripped over themselves in the back of the ambulance,
throwing around clipped sentences, vials, and needles. With each bump of the
tires over a jutted piece of cobblestone the EMTs grew more frenzied. Siran
could only watch. Like the first day they met, she was silent, frozen as Kali’s
chest rose and fell with each pump of oxygen. There weren’t many
people in the waiting room. An elderly woman sat in the corner, her heavy chin
rested on her chest. Near the counter a young man sat watching a child, maybe his
brother, pushing colored blocks along curved wire. The older boy paused
occasionally to peek at the nurse behind the counter. Andrea met Siran in the
ICU, face gaunt and blue under the flashing “Pronto Soccorso” sign. What’s going on? She
asked Siran. “She’s under intensive
care. They won’t let me in” “S**t.” Andrea ran a
hand through her flattened hair. There was a moment of silence and Siran closed
her eyes, resting her head on the faded blue wall. The wallpaper crinkled a
little under her hair. She fiddled with her gold chain. The coarse metal chafed
against her skin as the clasp travelled towards the nape of her neck, and she
shivered. She felt the plastic bench move as Andrea took a seat next to her.
The waiting room remained silent, punctuated only by the sound of blocks
knocking together. Slowly the day began to gnaw at her consciousness, and she slipped
quietly into darkness. Siran was jolted awake
as a sharp pain bloomed across the side of her face. She blinked her eyes
couple time, pulling her head back sharply when she realized how close her face
was to the metal arm of the bench. She rubbed her cheek and turned to look for
Andrea, frowning when she found the space next to her empty. She got up,
pressing her hands to the small of her back; a few cracks resounded through the
room. There a was soft whirr as the automatic doors opened, and an empty gurney
was pushed towards the ICU by two nurses in pale blue scrubs. After they
passed, Siran peeked through the doors. She saw the orange sleeves of Andrea’s
coat move animatedly towards a man in a white robe. Their soft whispers were
quickly cut off though, as the door clicked shut. Siran turned back to the rows
of plastic benches. Another half hour had passed before Andrea came back
through the double doors. Her pupils were dark, blood vessels branching out
towards the corners of her eyes. She walked stiffly towards Siran, hands laced
tightly in front of her chest. “The doctor said Kali
was suffering from an electrolyte imbalance. She was severely dehydrated. They
put her on an IV drip but apparently her body was too malnourished. Not enough
iron. She was having pul-pal-palpitations” The slight stumble of
words was all it took for Andrea’s mask to break. Her hands started to shake as
she continued. “They, they did
everything they could. They used the defibrillator. They shocked her. They--- Siran slid to the
ground. Her knees smacked the cheap linoleum as she buried her head in her
forearms, hands clenched tightly in her hair. Her body shook and she could
barely make out the sound of Andrea’s words. The older woman’s voice was thick
with tears, but she continued to speak. “Her heart wasn’t strong
enough. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Kali gasped and lurched
towards Andrea, reaching her arms out to cover Andrea’s mouth. “Stop. Please just stop.
I can’t "“ Siran’s voice caught and she sank into Andrea’s arms. They held each
other tightly, kneeling on the cold floor. The nurse secretary gave them a
pitying look before resuming her typing. The drive back to the
hotel was short. They had managed to sneak past the reporters, quickly
shuffling into a black cab. Faces crusty
with salt tracks, they sat, suspended in silence. The room was in the same
disarray they had left it in. Siena’s suitcase lay open on Siran’s bed; she had
been throwing clothes around trying to find her cardigan. Siran picked up a
blouse that had been tossed onto the pillow. Kali had worn it in the flight; it
smelled faintly of perfume and sweat. When they returned home
the reality hit. Siran remembered watching Andrea fill out a stack of
paperwork, brought by a stern man in a black suit. She wanted to go in when the
older woman burst into tears, but held herself back. She didn’t open her
computer, or turn on the TV. She knew that her smiling face would beam
back up at her, with straight yellow teeth. And it terrified her. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Siran walked out to the
balcony. The sun heated iron dug into her forearms as the leaned across the
twisted bars, and she could feel her nose twitch. It had been autumn the last
time she had been in Venice. She remembered walking past the canals with Kali,
hands woven together, hair frizzy in the cool evening dampness. Now the flowers
were in full bloom, threatening to pour onto the bronzed passersby below. She
pinched the stem of a red flower, watching as the green darkened and moistened
her fingertips. Its petals were soft and thin and open, offering little
resistance as the plucked them from the center of the bloom. She let them drift
down as she took in the city, eyes stopping momentarily as she spotted a new
shopping mall, a familiar statue, and the pizza parlour Andrea had almost taken
her and Kali to. “They have the best pizza in town. Bellisimo”, Andrea had said
in a crappy Italian accent which had sent the two girls over the edge, small
frames shaking with laughter. Andrea was
usually pretty strict with their diets, but she had promised to take them after
their show because to hell with it, they were in freakin’ Italy. Siran sighed as she
tossed the stem over the ledge, and made a note to try out the pizza later. The
sounds of the busy streets rose up, swirling around her as she looked at the
people below. She could make out an angry street vendor shaking his fist at an
equally riled up local, a lady in a Venetian costume stopping to take pictures
with tourists, and a young woman staring through the window of the mask shop. Siran’s
breath caught as she stared at the woman. She had olive skin and her inky black
hair fell in thick waves down her back. The woman paced in front of the store a
few time before disappearing back into the crowd. It was getting late; the sky
had begun to fade from orange to a dusty blue. Siran closed the balcony doors
behind her, letting the cool air conditioning wash over her skin. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was ten minutes
before the first walk. Siran stood behind the curtain, hands over her stomach
as she took a deep breath. The lineup was the same as Paris fashion week. She
and Genevieve were lined up, wary of the empty space between them. There was a
slight shuffling, and Siran turned to see a young blonde woman hovering around
a tall girl with bright pink hair. Siran looked at the clock. Eight minutes.
She quickly glided over, putting her hand on the blond lady’s shoulder. “I’ll take it from
here.” Johanna looked up at
Siran, eyes slightly red. She opened her mouth to speak, painted lips revealing
acid worn teeth. “I can’t do it.” Siran’s chest burned a
little as she stared into her bloodshot eyes, watching them slowly shine with
salty tears. Johanna took a few steps forward, stumbling as she shuffled closer
to Siran. “What do I do?” Johanna
gestured wildly, dingers trying to form the sounds she couldn’t make on her
own. Siran, alarmed, gently wrapped her arms around the frail woman. “I can walk for you,
don’t worry. I’ll call one of the nurses. No one will hate you trust me. I’ll
talk to John.” She spoke soothingly into her ear while gesturing to one of the
on hand nurses. The short lady pried Johanna from Siran, and shifted the
model’s weight across her tiny shoulder. Siran watched as the two walked
towards the back room, where the nurse would give Johanna an IV. She sighed and
returned to her place in the line. “Where’s Johanna?”
Genevieve asked. “Getting an IV drip, she
wasn’t feeling well.” Siran couldn’t place the look in Genevieve’s eyes, but
let it go when the rhythm of the music changed. After one last glance towards
the backroom, Siran stepped onto the runway. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Andrea had scheduled
their flight in the evening, giving Siran a few last hours to roam the city.
She walked past the canal, nose stinging from the stale breeze as gondolas and
speedboats passed. She walked in to the plaza she had from her balcony. It was
big, cobblestones extending in a circle until they hit stone archways. Siran
walked around the fountain in the middle, turning to the corner of the plaza
where young men and women sat on wire chairs, relaxing in the shade of red
umbrellas. She set her plastic bag on a table, careful not the break the contents,
and lifted her hand to catch a passing waiter. She gave him her order, pointing
to the menu as the young man scribbled in his little black book. They nodded at
each other and he returned a moment later with a champagne glass and a bottle
of Pellegrino. She twirled her straw in the glass, watching as little bubbles
raced to the surface, popping and fizzing. A breeze lifted her hair, and she
turned as her nose was met with a rich, tantalizing smell. The waiter set a
large round plate in front of her, and she carefully lifted on of the
triangles. A burst of tomato, basil, and fresh mozzarella danced across her
tongue. “Andrea wasn’t lying” she said to the empty seat across from her,
catching a string of cheese as it swung form her lips. © 2013 SaranyaAuthor's Note
Featured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
417 Views
1 Review Added on September 22, 2013 Last Updated on September 22, 2013 AuthorSaranyaTXAboutHello. I'm a college student trying to figure my way around this strange thing called writing. I've dabbled in poetry and short stories, and I'd like to develop my writing. I hope I can get some const.. more..Writing
|