EPISODE EIGHT
...IN THE ROOM
...IN THE ROOM
Alone in the shower, just me and the sad piano music playing through the speakers, I struggle to make sense of recent events. Images of Ray and Big and Peter play in my mind and I feel dizzy, unable to process everything. The music makes me want to cry, but I fight the urge and turn the knob to increase the temperature.
The blood mixes with the water, running from my hair and down my legs to the drain, a swirling remnant of Big's life. Now it's over for him. I know nothing of the man and couldn't write a eulogy. The heat burns my eyes as I think what it all means. And all I know is there is no meaning. This empty life goes on and on until it doesn't. Until you and I and everyone that walks joins the void.
I hear a voice in the room, a familiar one.
"Are you okay, Ella?" George asks, standing in the doorway. I would bet he's been there the entire time.
I don't know and I keep silent, letting the water run until it's clear. Turning the faucet off, I step from the shower and into a silk robe he holds for me.
"Am I still Master with Ray around?" I ask.
"You will be master. No need to worry yourself with such questions."
A curious answer, but I do not respond to it. I sit in front of the mirror and scan the dressing table. There are combs and brushes and hair care products, everything a girl could need. Seems George bought one of everything. I smile at his thoughtfulness and stifle a laugh thinking how lucky I am Peter didn't do the shopping.
"Do I really have to share space with Peter?"
"He can't guard you part-time. That defeats the purpose. And you'll see he is far more than a bodyguard."
"Can you explain that?" I ask, but he shrugs and instead puts a few pills on the dressing table.
He hands me a glass of water. "Take these. You'll sleep."
I take the pills and allow him to brush my hair. Within minutes my eyes begin to feel heavy and I rise from the chair.
"I need to lay down," I say.
"As it should be. When you wake, the entire mess will be history." He pulls the covers down and helps me to bed, tucking me in as if I am a small child. But I don't mind. No, his kindness brings a tear to my eye.
He turns on the stereo and begins the music. I hear classical music and allow myself to fall into the violins. The exhaustion and the pills and the music take me down and down and down...
The blood mixes with the water, running from my hair and down my legs to the drain, a swirling remnant of Big's life. Now it's over for him. I know nothing of the man and couldn't write a eulogy. The heat burns my eyes as I think what it all means. And all I know is there is no meaning. This empty life goes on and on until it doesn't. Until you and I and everyone that walks joins the void.
I hear a voice in the room, a familiar one.
"Are you okay, Ella?" George asks, standing in the doorway. I would bet he's been there the entire time.
I don't know and I keep silent, letting the water run until it's clear. Turning the faucet off, I step from the shower and into a silk robe he holds for me.
"Am I still Master with Ray around?" I ask.
"You will be master. No need to worry yourself with such questions."
A curious answer, but I do not respond to it. I sit in front of the mirror and scan the dressing table. There are combs and brushes and hair care products, everything a girl could need. Seems George bought one of everything. I smile at his thoughtfulness and stifle a laugh thinking how lucky I am Peter didn't do the shopping.
"Do I really have to share space with Peter?"
"He can't guard you part-time. That defeats the purpose. And you'll see he is far more than a bodyguard."
"Can you explain that?" I ask, but he shrugs and instead puts a few pills on the dressing table.
He hands me a glass of water. "Take these. You'll sleep."
I take the pills and allow him to brush my hair. Within minutes my eyes begin to feel heavy and I rise from the chair.
"I need to lay down," I say.
"As it should be. When you wake, the entire mess will be history." He pulls the covers down and helps me to bed, tucking me in as if I am a small child. But I don't mind. No, his kindness brings a tear to my eye.
He turns on the stereo and begins the music. I hear classical music and allow myself to fall into the violins. The exhaustion and the pills and the music take me down and down and down...