Ledge Walkers Read online

  Then I looked to our bartender and chef. “You guys are welcome to join in as well."

  Both of them shook their heads theatrically as if I had just invited them to pour gasoline all over themselves while I lit a match. I stuck out my tongue at them and called them chickens.

  "Okay, from here on out, you are your partner."

  Partner looked to partner, and each remained clueless. I admit, I was, too, or maybe just uncomfortable. We needed an icebreaker or maybe an ice pick. My eyes raced to those who usually dealt with the icy situations.

  Nothing.Shit! I would have to take the berg by the horns.

  I very dramatically ran up to Laura. “Oh my God, Holly, where did you get those pants? I love them. Were they on sale? Do they come in green?"

  Laura immediately starting laughing and wailed, “Oh, that is so sweet that you noticed! Oh my God, there is such a beautiful sale going on. We should go! Oh, let's go! That would be sweet! But do you think they make my butt look big?” She slapped her hands to her face, turned her body, and stuck her ass out as far as she could without falling over.

  Our indignant but laughing partners moved into the fray, walloping us on arrival. Then Holly stopped, grabbed her crotch, shook one leg a bit, and shouted, “Hey, Kate, mine's bigger than yours is!"

  A giggling Claudia replied, “Oh no, it's not! Why mine hangs all the way down to here!” She proceeded to grab her ankle, and I realized that Earl had not done a very good job stabilizing her. She landed on the floor, laughing hysterically.

  Susan suddenly approached. She put her hands on her sides and thrust her hips to and fro like exclamation points. “You know,” she said. “It is very sexist and demeaning to all women to assign them male body parts.

  Women do not have testicles or penises. Think about the cosmic ramifications of what you're doing!"

  Maggie was not laughing. She said, “Oh, Maggie, they mean no harm. It's all in fun.” I swear she bit her tongue.

  Susan stared her down. “Itis harmful!” she emoted. “It fills the world with negative energy, and that affects every living thing. We all should be allowed to be who we are, unencumbered and free!” To dropping jaws, she performed that magic trick that all women know. She unclasped her bra, pulled a strap out each shirtsleeve, andpresto chango: with one long, quick pull, she was braless. She whipped it, and it sailed in the direction of Sam and Charlize, who ducked behind the bar as if that lit match had been thrown. She kicked off her shoes and began twirling in lopsided circles. Then she, too, landed laughing on the floor.

  With hands outstretched, Ginny walked into the center of our gathering. “I think I can explain this all, girls,”

  she said, looking oh so serious and sounding like a lecturer. “After all, I am the expert. I can diagnose and cure you before you even know what hit you.” She paused to look at Kris, whose arms were still crossed and lips were held tight so she couldn't smile and give herself away.

  "Yes, I can do that,” Ginny continued. “But my own behavior? Well, I have a double standard you wouldn't believe. But let me try to explain since I am so in love with the sound of my own voice.” She stopped to clear her throat. “See Ginny over there? Well, I've been a very consistent and loving partner to her for almost twenty-five years, but then I decided to hell with tradition and trust.”Uh oh! “To hell with our yearly trip after semester's end! To hell with celebrating us. To hell with anniversaries and looking ahead to the next year. I have more important things to do!"

  I held my breath here.

  Kris rose from the couch and walked up to Ginny. She smiled at her, and I did not think that anyone, especially Ginny, expected it. Then she said, “On a good day, I would probably cuff Kris upside the head and ask her just what the heck she was thinking. On a good day, I would trust that there was indeed something so important that she had to change the rules like that. On a good day, I would wag the trust finger at myself and not at her. See, trust goes both ways. How many times have I told you all that?"

  She looked at us each individually. How we ended up on the hot seat of shame was beyond me. Each of us met her eyes, and then we penitently lowered our heads.

  Her eyes stopped on Ginny, and relieved, we all breathed again. She continued, “On a bad day, though, my feelings get hurt. Twenty-five years, after all, is a gosh darn big deal. It's the silver one, you know. So instead of trusting this creature who has been trustworthy for decades, why, I just give up and pout like a little girl who doesn't think she's going to get what she wants for Christmas. Santa could be busy in his workshop. Elves could be all around me. Why, there could even be presents hiding—like maybe even in Kris’ pocket right now. But I cannot see. My mouth is in such a big pout that it's covering my eyes."

  Ginny was indeed blinded by what hurt her; the big ass neon sign Kris just flashed at her went completely unnoticed. Instead, she railed, “Yes, and I would be doing my utmost to reassure!"

  "I have been, you stubborn old bag!” Kris yelled, reclaiming and defending herself. “Short of telling you that I'm busy in the damn workshop, I've given you hints all along. You are so pig-headed!"

  "Is that a clinical term?” she asked, unamused.

  Kris slapped her thighs, bent over, and let out a scream of exasperation. “I think I like being you better. More gets accomplished,” she said. “Ah, maybe I should be the both of us!” She turned and stood next to Ginny. To the vacant space where she had just stood, she yelled, “Oh, Kris dear, did I just hear you say that there was something in your pocket?” She hopped back to her original position. “You mean when I told you that presents were hiding, like maybe even in my pocket?” She moved back next to Ginny, cocked her head, and shouted,

  “Kris dear, are you telling me there's a present in your pants’ pocket?” Then she waited; we all waited.

  After what seemed like the passage of another twenty-five years, Ginny turned to her and asked, “Are you?"

  That time we all let out a scream of exasperation.

  She smiled and scooted behind Kris. She reached her arms around her and then stopped just as quickly. “If this is somebody's sick way of getting me to frisk her in public, Iwill be mad."

  Kris crisscrossed her hands, grabbed Ginny's, and with a dosey-do maneuver, twisted around to face her.

  Ginny's arms were now crisscrossed. “Listen!” she said. “I watched you sit and write every clue for that scavenger hunt, all the way down to counting the darn syllables. You connived, you plotted, and you took utter delight in messing with everyone in this room! If anyone's messing with you—which I joyfully admit that I am—you've got it coming to you."

  "She's lying, girls. I did not.” She smiled, and it was the first soulful one I had seen all day. She spun Kris around and stuck her hands in both of her front pants’ pockets. Seconds later, she stared at a few of those cheesy paper luggage tags airlines distribute at check-in counters. In her other hand, she held a set of miniature keys on an Eiffel Tower keychain.

  Like a skilled orchestra conductor, I raised my hand high and pointed down to Alison. With perfect syncopation, she shouted, “Hey, I thought we were supposed to hand over our keys!"

  As they say, I amazed even myself. “Unless we're playing Honey-I-Shrunk-the-Little-Woman, I think it's okay,”

  I retorted as I watched Ginny try to make sense of her clues.

  "This tells me very little,” she pronounced.

  "It tells you enough. Now go back to being me because we've already ruined Claudia and Kate's little game.”

  She grabbed Ginny by the cheeks, gave her a kiss, and said, “Trust me."

  "I am the most frustrating person I know,” Ginny said. She smiled sheepishly and clarified, “That would be Kris speaking, not me."

  We all laughed, and then the free-for-all began again.

  "That is so sweet, Kris!” Holly gushed.

  Laura grabbed her around the waist and corrected, “That is not what I would say!"

  "Oh yeah!” Holly reminded herself, laugh
ing. She lowered her voice and shouted, “That is f-ing something, Kris!"

  This time I jumped in to help get the ball rolling again. “Holly, isn't it just so funny that we can do what we want, and they end up taking the rap for it?"

  Laura replied, “Oh, it is so sweet. We are bad, bad girls, but all they do is smile at us, and they look at those two bozos as the troublemakers they are! Sweet! So sweet!"

  "Holly, I think you should lock Laura in the shower again! Show her who's boss."

  Laura's mouth opened wide. “Oh my God, Claudia, like that is such a good idea! Absolutely beautiful.” She charged Holly and lifted her over her shoulder, failing to remember that basement ceilings were far lower than upstairs ceilings. She twirled her around several times, until her crouching legs could give no more. Thankfully, a good portion of the couch broke their fall.

  Holly jumped on top of her. “I wouldn't argue if you did lock me in the shower, as long as you came with me.”

  She leaned down and kissed her, those hips of hers genuflecting in true Laura style.

  I figured that was the end of them. They were literally down for the count this time. Instead, Laura abruptly pushed Holly back. “Oh see, I like this way too much. I like being Holly on the outside with Laura on inside.

  Then when I want you all I have to do is this.” She sat straight up, knocking Holly off of her. She grabbed her own breasts, squeezed several good ones, and then faked an echoing moan.

  Holly dove. “Those are mine!"

  Alison suddenly yelled, “Non-sexual, ladies!"

  Like a trooper, Janice piped in, “I don't think it's sexual, Janice. I think she's just going for Supta Virasana."

  "Oh my God!” Alison said. “The heroine position? Oh my God, you know yoga, too!"

  The two of them started conversing wildly.Yes!

  Suddenly there were arms around me from behind. “Is that you or me?” I asked.

  "It's me,” she said. “And I want you back."

  We decided to sit off by ourselves for a while. She rested her head on my arm, and I could tell that Earl was slowly winning the battle with Margarita. She seemed thoughtful again. We simply enjoyed each other and watched the chaos from the periphery.

  Soon, she did one of her “Honey?’ whimpers, and I got worried.

  "You've got me scared to go to the bathroom,” she said, “but I'vereally got to go! Can I break the seal or whatever?"

  "Oh my God, hon! Of course, you can! You didn't have to wait that long. I was just kidding.” I stood up, laughing. I clutched her hand and pulled her up. “Come on. I'll take you."

  When we got to the other side of the basement, we found Maggie sitting by herself near the stairs.

  "Is Susan in the bathroom?” I asked, thinking I'd have to rush the rupturing seal upstairs.

  Maggie simply shook her head. She seemed vacant and restless at the same time.

  "Is something wrong, Maggie?” Claudia asked as she sat down beside her.

  "To tell you the truth, I'm not really sure. I think maybe I made of a mess of things."

  She told us how she and Susan had played along with the role reversal thing and how Susan seemed to be so into it. She said, however, that no matter what she did or said, it seemed to make Susan frustrated and angry. “I told her we should just stop then, that it wasn't fun anymore. She said she needed some air and told me not to come with,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I'll fix it when she comes back. If I hurt her or made her mad, I sure didn't mean to."

  "Maggie, we know that,” Claudia said and then inquired, “How long ago did she leave?"

  "About fifteen, twenty minutes."

  "Claudia, you hit the bathroom. I'll go have a smoke and see if I can accidently run into her,” I said. I looked at Maggie. “Whatever happens, we'll deal with. You're not alone. It's probably nothing anyway. Maybe she did just need some air."

  I started up the stairs and then stopped to shoot Charlize a look. Within seconds, he was seated alongside Maggie as Claudia made a desperate dash to the downstairs bathroom.

  I hit the porch and cleared my throat and coughed a few times, trying to make my presence obvious. Nothing. I went into the backyard and displayed a sudden interest in the newly arriving stars. Nothing. I made the trek around the entire house. Not a thing. After coming back in through the front door, I checked every room. Not a frickin’ thing. I rifled through the keys in the brandy snifter. The “I think therefore I am vegan” keychain gave me a pretty good indication that wherever Susan was, she was not behind a wheel.

  Then I headed back downstairs. A hopeful Maggie looked to me for reassurance. Charlize and Claudia were seated on either side of her.

  "She's gone,” I said.

  Chapter 9

  "I'm going to look for her!” Maggie shouted as she rose.

  "No, you're not,” Claudia said, grabbing her arm. “If she's mad, it's safer for you two to deal with it here—not out there. We'll find her."

  "I'll go,” I volunteered and spun on my feet to head back up the steps. “I'll bring her back."

  Claudia grabbed my arm as well. “Are you nuts? You're not going alone. I'll go with you."

  I assured her that I would be fine and that she needed to remain to make sure our next segment went off without a hitch—in case I wasn't back in time.

  "Fine, but you're taking someone with you."

  Laura and Holly stood near us now. I figured the entire room had caught onto what had happened. Laura stepped up and said she would go with me at the very same time Claudia asked Maggie, “Who does she trust the most?"

  Maggie looked at Laura as she put her foot on the first step. “I think she's afraid of you."

  "Aren't we all!” Claudia pulled Laura back. “Who does she trust?"

  Laura looked hurt. Despite her bravado, I don't think she appreciated the fact that she intimidated someone she cared about. Wonders really didn't cease.

  Maggie looked around the room. “Both Kris and Ginny."

  "They can't go. They have to be here,” I said adamantly.

  "Holly, then,” she affirmed, and Holly was most agreeable.

  "I'll grab my cell and let you know when we find her,” I shouted as Holly and I made a beeline upstairs.

  I grabbed my cell from the counter and my cigarettes from the porch, and we were off.

  When we hit the front curb, we had a choice. Our house was just barely within the city limits. To the left, we would head back into the city. To the right, we would encounter a rural area only a short distance down the road.

  Holly deduced that if she were upset, she would not head in the direction of people and lights. That made sense to me.Should it have made sense? We headed to the right, toward pitch-blackness in the distance.

  For quite awhile, we walked, watching for signs of movement and listening. Periodically, we'd yell out Susan's name. I vacillated between concern and anger. As one who did not like to cause scenes, I did not appreciate those caused by others. As shitty as things could get, you grabbed yourself by the balls that women didn't have and you dealt with it—however you had to—without taking anyone down with you. But that was me. And where the hell was Susan?

  We continued to walk, and slowly, sounds in the distance began to give me hope. “Ducks!” I said. “Listen."

  When we first moved into our house, we made the mistake of feeding the many—and I do mean many—ducks in the area. At first, a few began to depend on our daily offering of bread. It was comical, flattering, homey.

  Until ... Early one Saturday morning, we awakened to a ruckus beyond imagination. We quickly followed the sound, only to discover a Hitchcockian assemblage of hundreds of ducks in the backyard, each demanding morning bread. They covered the lawn, the eaves, the roof, the clothesline. They flattened Claudia's flowerbeds.

  By the time we shooed them all away, duck poop covered everything. As I tried to deal with my guilt about feeding them and then refusing to feed them, I learned about the county park about a m
ile and a half down the road. In the park, there was a huge lagoon that sucked off the river. The county fed the duck population there, in an effort to keep the defecating demanders out of the city.Oops.

  "Listen!” I instructed again, more for myself than for Holly.

  "What exactly am I listening for?” she asked. “Do you hear her?"

  "The ducks,” I replied. “They shouldn't be making such a fuss at this time of night. Something's got them upset."

  "Or someone,” she whispered. “Please don't let it be Vernon!"

  We both laughed, remembering Kris’ brother-in-law coming at us all with a roaring chainsaw for no other reason than to scare the shit out of us.