Dancing Her Dreams Away by Alretha Thomas

Author:Alretha Thomas [Thomas, Alretha]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Contemporary Women, Fiction
ISBN: 0615458173
Google: xQwItwAACAAJ
Amazon: B005I7JFHY
Publisher: Diverse Arts Collective
Published: 2011-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

My eyes have weights on them. I squint and shut them before the daylight can seep through. I open them and search the ceiling for cracks, but instead I find silk canopy drapes. What is that taste? My mouth is dry and sticky and bitter like day-old-dog-doo-doo. What time is it? My head throbs, but I attempt to sit up anyway. Where’s Greg? I look toward the door as it opens.

“Gee?” I pull the covers up to my neck, hiding my nakedness at the sight of a very stocky, hairy man entering. “Who are you?” I plan on jumping out of the window if he makes one false move.

“It’s me. Eduardo.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you without your chef uniform.”

“That’s okay. You’ve been sleeping a lot, and I was worried about you. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Greg asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“Where is Greg?”

“He’s in the screening room.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s three-o-clock.”

“Three-o-clock?”

He nods and stares at me.

I must look like my mouth tastes. “What’s wrong?”

“You just look like her. Even in your sleep, exactly like her.”

“Like who?” I move toward the edge of the bed.

“Sarah,” he says.

“Everybody says that. You guys talk about her like she’s a real person. Greg says she’s a fantasy woman — his fantasy woman.”

Eduardo shifts his weight from foot-to-foot and wrings his hands. I notice beads of sweat on his upper lip. “Greg said you might have a headache this morning. I prepared a nice concoction for you. It’s in the kitchen. I can bring it to you if you like.”

“No, that’s okay. I need to get up. I’ll be down.”

“Okay. Let me know if I can be of any more assistance.” He turns and walks toward the door, shaking his head.

I stand up and sit right back down. My aching head. What the— My wrists are red, black, and blue. I look at my ankles. They’re jacked up too. The scene. That’s right. I shot the monologue scene last night, and it’s coming back to me now. Wow. I press on my head, trying to remember. What happened last night? Damn, the wine. I told Greg. My hands tingle and I feel lightheaded. This not remembering is frightening, and I need to get with Greg to see what happened. I need to slow my row. No more wine, and I mean it this time. Wine and I do not mix. I don’t even remember if I did a good job. I can’t wait to see the dailies. I gotta get cleaned up, and I need to call my grandmother and Edwina. I will myself up from the bed and head to the master bathroom. Whatever Eduardo prepared, I hope it works.

Eduardo sings a song in Italian while he prepares a very late breakfast for me. I peer into the potion he made, hoping I don’t see any hair. Whatever he put in it, it’s working. The hammering has finally stopped, and I can hear myself think. Maybe I’ll remember more of what happened last night.

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