Pliage Pt. I
It started in the early spring one Friday night. I had just finished writing a piece about a new film series that had played at a downtown art gallery and emailed it to my editor. Leaving the cafe I noticed thunderheads in the distance but decided to walk home anyway. I put my computer down on my desk and plugged it in and headed to the shower. After showering I checked my phone and saw a text message from a friend of mine named JB Murdoch. He said there was a wrap party happening downtown later on for a fashion shoot he had just finished working on. He wanted me to be his plus one. I sent a reply saying I would be there. Looking out of my window I heard the first distant rumbles of thunder but kept my window open. Next I was in the kitchen and making a dinner of penne and red sauce with an arugula salad. Steam coming from the boiler just breathed in the room. I thought about the film series I had seen and about how sad the whole thing had been. It was the right kind of sadness--the kind that lingers and when it's gone you sort of wish it had stayed because it makes your thinking clearer. It pleased me to have that thought and though I didn't explicitly word it that way in the article I had sent to my editor I think it was in the piece somehow. I ran a few of the more lucid phrases of the piece through my head and was pleased by them. After drinks with an old friend named Connie Day I took the subway downtown to the wrap party and called Murdoch from outside. The rain had subsided for the moment so we shared a cigarette outside. It was warm despite the rain from before. "How's the party Murdoch?" "You know--it's pretty fine. There's a lot of talent in there going to waste." And then he blew a kiss to the street. It really all started inside the party. A big downtown club scene with purple and blue lights and red ones by a long white bar. Red cushioned white chairs and mirrors everywhere. An authoritative DJ stage at the opposite wall of the entrance. It was teeming with people wearing their Friday night best. Everyone looked clean and self aware and camera flashes peppered the cryptic darkness. I walked to the bar and motioned with a 20 dollar bill. The bartender came over a few minutes later and I got three gin and tonics. Murdoch took his with a smirk and we clinked glasses then surveyed everything further. It was then that I noticed Strong and Horst. They were sitting curiously alone in two of the red cushioned chairs with what appeared to be some type of matching whisky cocktails in front of them resting on red napkins on a small circular white table. They made eye contact with me and Strong nodded slowly while Horst picked up and tipped his drink to me also very slowly. It seemed a pretty dramatic way to acknowledge a stranger at a party. I nodded back and made my way to the dance floor remembering the poised vacancy in the glances of the man and woman at the table. Both very attractive but ten or fifteen years older than most of the other attendees of the party. Out on the dance floor there were many woman. Almost entirely woman. A few people seemed to be on the dance floor to only take photos of themselves there. I finished the first gin and tonic and placed it on a cocktail table before heading into the thick of the dance floor. I danced with a very beautiful woman for the duration of my drink. She kept making eye contact with me before turning around and rubbing her back against my chest. I could feel the sweat of her back through her black dress and my shirt and I leaned in and kissed her neck. She turned around and put a hand on my face and then turned again. Her lips dark from red lipstick stuck in my mind. I went to kiss her neck again and she asked if I would "get us" a few drinks. Back at the bar I got three more gin and tonics before heading for the dance floor. I finished the first one and went to put it back on the same cocktail table before the dance floor when I noticed that Horst and Strong were now sitting at that table with fresh drinks. Horst was cross legged in dark trousers with black leather boots and Strong was resting her arm on his shoulder. She gestured for me to put the empty glass on the table. I complied and Horst suddenly got up from his seat without a word. Strong said: "Please. Sit down." "That's all right. I've got a drink for a woman right here. Thank you though." She looked at me with those poised eyes in her black dress with her black hair and black high heels and I noticed she wasn't wearing any make up. "Horst got this drink for you. It'd be rude to turn it down." And she took a sip from hers batting her eyelashes. I couldn't tell how or why but it felt like she was making fun of something. I guess I liked that. "Is Horst that fancy friend of yours?" "I think you already know the answer to that question." I took a sip from my gin and tonic and realized both were sweating profusely and I didn't like that. I set them down on the table and sat next to Strong. I sat with my hands on my hips facing and looking at the dance floor. "It's truly a commodious gesture to buy another man a drink but I don't like to sip a thing that I haven't seen made." And I pointed to the drink. Strong set hers down on the table and picked the other up. I ran my fingers through my hair and picked up the drink she had set down. Took a sip. It was an old fashioned and a good one at that. Probably Bulleit or Makers Mark. "All right. So what's the deal? I'm not tall enough to be a model. Are you guys swingers or something? I don't think I'm into that personally." "Stop being coy Kincaid. What Horst does in his own time is none of my concern. Anyway. We're happy with the work you've been doing." That truly amazed me. First that they had read anything I had written was wild enough but then to be so familiar with it as to know what I looked like and beyond that wanting to talk to me about it as well. I straightened my back and adjusted my glasses slightly. I figured they wanted to recruit me for a new job. Maybe with a pay increase which was something I could really get behind. I sipped the drink again and kept it in my hand as I eyed the dancer from earlier leave the dance floor. She glanced at me with a face that said nothing and kept walking with determination toward the door. I turned toward Strong and noticed she was closer to me than before. A very beautiful woman much older than me. "You've read my writing?" "Well--yes. You're reports. We've read the whole thing. Seen the reports. The photos and everything. The information has been very helpful and we're making serious headway." What a strange thing to call my articles. What a weird way talk about them. "OK. I see. Well--what. What headway are you making? Advancements on what exactly?" "Stop being coy Kincaid. The war. We're making serious advancements on the war with the information you're providing us. It's very well done and they have no idea that you're getting it." I took a sip of the drink and crossed my legs and leaned back and said: "I literally have no idea what you're talking about." "All right. Well. I know you've never met Horst or myself in person and so I hope you don't find our appearing like this too provocative but we had reliable intel indicating there would be no belligerents here and we wanted to thank you in person. Present ourselves to make it clear that we're…available. That we're here--albeit conducting our own exercises in extreme secrecy but we are here nonetheless. There's still a lot of work to be done to change the tides of the war front but the information you're gathering is exquisite." I leaned forward and placed the empty glass on the cocktail table and stood up and turned and retrieved my gin and tonics and spoke to Strong: "Well--this is all very fascinating and totally strange but tell Horst that I thank him for the drink. What's your name again ma'am?" I took a sip of the gin and tonic. "Kincaid I'm fully aware that you know its Strong from intelligence. I know you know that. I truly apologize if this gesture was too over the top and makes you uncomfortable. That couldn't be further from our intentions." "Well ma'am--excuse me--well Strong. Thanks for reading my articles. Feel free to keep doing so. If there's some way that a person as literally insane as you has access to a publisher willing to give me 5 or 600 dollars for an article contact me. Take care." And I turned to leave when Strong said: "This is ludicrous. Have you checked your account balance recently? We're giving you a thousand dollars for every one of your reports." Granted I figured this person to be totally out of their mind or potentially just mean but I couldn't help that the idea of getting such a considerable sum of money for writing one of my articles--basically ten times what I usually received--just ran through my spine. And it was true that I hadn't checked my account balance in a very long time. I turned around and Strong had those vacant eyes again and pointed to an ATM by the bathrooms. I gulped down the remainder of the gin and tonic and placed the glass on the table before walking over to the ATM. The statement read $8,483.32. That truly and deeply shocked me to such a degree that I almost dropped my drink. I turned around to look at Strong but she was gone. I forced my way into the crowd surrounding the bar. It was a deep throng of partygoers and I could see what I figured to be Strong's head bobbing by the doorway. I pushed and pulled through the throng getting negative faces and aggressive sighs but by the time I got outside Strong was nowhere to be found. It had clearly been raining the streets were breathing. Murdoch was outside speaking Chinese with his arms around the woman I had been dancing with. "Murdoch--did you see a woman with dark hair in a black dress and black high heels leave just now?" "Was she very attractive and rich seeming?" "Yes man! Dammit--where'd she go?" "I've seen about 15 of those in the past minute and a half." "Goddammit man." The woman giggled and started speaking Chinese with Murdoch and they both giggled. Then he kissed her. A black Audi A6 wagon sped down the street and I couldn't help but think Strong was in the back. I looked at my watch just to do something--I didn't even pay attention to the time it read.