King of Joy by Richard Chiem

Author:Richard Chiem
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781593763107
Publisher: Soft Skull Press
Published: 2018-12-13T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

CORVUS WAKES UP SORE IN A SILK ROBE IN A LARGE BED with fresh sheets and a fluffy comforter. She doesn’t remember what she dreams of anymore. It has been that way for years now, but it no longer bothers her. There is something peaceful in not knowing. Waking up without dreaming is like taking off a black mask. No longer feeling grimy or stressed out, Corvus keeps her body still and takes a moment to realize where she is. The ceilings are high and the walls are painted a faded gold. Her elbow is bandaged in white gauze. She is not dead, she is alive. Corvus takes solace in the fact that there is nowhere she needs to be, nowhere she needs to go. She lies in bed and listens for any signs of life within or beyond the walls.

She misses Perry. Like a panic, she misses Perry with her whole being, and it’s suddenly as though her body is a kind of costume, and there’s something missing between who she is and whatever is walking around empty in the world. She wishes for his smell, for his strong legs to wrap around hers. It’s as though she’s been freezing for much too long a time, always cold in her hands and feet, unable to get warm and somehow, now she’s colder. Grief is this strange chill, a dead space where there was once fire and comfort, and she fears there is no relief coming.

Someone knocks on the door. Corvus feels a little dizzy and her vision doubles before there is a second knock, this time with the door opening. She loosens her grip on the comforter, taking long blinks. The wound itches under the gauze.

Camila enters the room and says, I’m sorry I don’t have someone here for you. She sits down in a wicker chair and scoots closer to the headboard. It’s the off-season, so all my help is gone. She waits and asks, How is the elbow? How dreadful.

Corvus doesn’t say anything.

Camila asks, Should I leave and let you rest a little while longer?

Where’s Amber? Corvus asks. She gets up on her elbows, trying not to grimace from the sting, and sits up.

She’s coming, my dear.

Corvus asks, Where the fuck is Amber?

Camila says, She’s coming. The pain on her face is visible. It’s as though Corvus has committed an intimate and great offense, asking for someone else. Camila straightens her back and smiles at Corvus. She rises from the wicker chair and yells down the hallway, Amber! Amber!

Amber’s voice calls back from downstairs. She screams, Yes?

Camila doesn’t say anything else, and after a few moments, footsteps rush up the stairs from down the hallway. Amber appears on the threshold, already smiling with her bright eyes. Nothing is strange or out of sorts on Amber’s face. She looks relaxed and at ease, as though she’s at home here, and the comfort almost brings Corvus to tears.

Amber says, You look good, Corvus. She runs to the bed on excited feet, wearing the same kind of silk robe as Corvus, and leans to her ear still smiling.

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