Read The Fan-Shaped Destiny of William Seabrook for Free Online Page A

our possible
     futures, that I had somehow found my way to that moment. Yes, I was indeed basking in the envious glances of men, as well
     as those of outright hatred from some women—we all have our little agendas. But I did feel that I had to exorcise one last
     demon of sanity before giving myself over, altogether, to midlife crisis.
    I used to joke with my late wife about her “Three Faces of Linda”: the exotic dancer seen on the stage, the flirtatious courtesan
     who was her clubroom persona, and, of course, the “real” Linda, predictably a bit shy and withdrawn. Those personalities had
     generally occupied discrete blocs of time. This creature, on the other hand… I had watched the tough young punker waver into
     something indefinable within spans of seconds, then morph into a being as kittenish as Seabrook had drawn her “composite”
     predecessor. I looked down into those pale green panther’s eyes, which again seemed as primordial as her Arabian jewelry.
    “Who are you, really?” I wondered rhetorically then, in all hopeless honesty, just blurted out, “And what in the world do
     you want with me?”
    The enigmatic eyes moistened, as they seemed to divine all my shades of meaning. “Where is it written that same is good?”
     Thus dismissing ages, acculturations, et cetera, she snuggled tighter under my arm. “Something wonderful is happening,” and
     that was all
    she would say as we drove to my house—in a neighborhood where it’s best not to be after dark unless both the cops
and
the gangs know you.
    In my defense, I will tell you that the childlike joy in that expression resonated with a
hope
long absent from my heart. I do possess some sense of responsibility, beyond simply not wanting to deal with the guilt later,
     but this was of a different order. If I had banished the demon from one shoulder, an angel on the other was still being troublesome.
     The old folks would have said it was warning me,
If you don’t live up to that, if you let her down, it’s the sort of thing for which you will surely be damned.
Please don’t laugh at me; I’m as serious as death.
    Still, I gave myself over—what did you really expect? Uncharted territory it would be, then. In my experience, when you notice
     something magical, something the poets would sing as evidence a union is meant to be, it’s best not to tell Girlfriend about
     it. Women generally don’t appreciate anything that far outside their control, inclusive even of acts of God Almighty. So here
     was one who just seemed to say to go with it? I had no more questions. Right then at least. Questions would soon multiply
     like a mutated virus.
    ————————
    I T WOULD BE ABSURDLY COY to refrain from the most intimate details of what was happening to me. From what I was to learn of the viewpoint of Justine’s
     exhibitionistic little soul, it would be flatly disingenuous.
    Someone wanting you that bad can raise the dead. While I had not yet been disposed to just go on out to the cemetery and lie
     down, I’d been emotionally and sexually shut off for a long time. Even my bedroom had certain tomblike qualities. Due to curiosities
     of old house construction and expansion, it was a fully enclosed inside room, without outside walls. No sound or vibration
     disturbed its silence. Hidden away in decaying south San Antonio, the place must have seemed to her like the dark side of
     the moon.
    Drawing a deep breath, she stepped to the center of the room and stood looking at the bed, as though caressing the image of
     what we were about to do on it. She then loosened her skirt and let it fall to reveal that she had worn nothing beneath it.
    Turning about slowly, displaying herself for me, she shed her jacket and lifted a questioning eyebrow. Wearing only her body
     jewelry and heels, she was easily as sensational as any showgirl I’d ever had a lech on. Still, I responded that I wanted
     her to be as naked as possible. Dropping her eyes, she