Nomadic Tendencies
Carlson Hermine sat slumped in the oversized leather arm chair positioned by the fireplace in the reception area, looking forlorn and dejected. He sipped gingerly on his Cognac, savoring the flavor. Or rather avoiding the burning sensation that came with drinking such a strong spirit. This party was supposed to be for him, but he didn’t feel like celebrating. He had to go home and tell his wife of twelve years that he was going on a three month long business trip in Brazil. He guzzled the remnants of his drink and and dropped his head into his hands. He rubbed his temples counter-clockwise aimlessly. He didn’t have a headache, but he surely would by the time he went to bed tonight. Just then a voice broke his private train of thought.
“Carl my boy!!” A loud, slurred, booming voice approached him. He never lifted his head, continuing to massage his head. The shoes looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them. A hard slap on the back swiftly reminded him who it was. Dan Green from Production. He was the up and coming Golden boy of the President.
“You did it!! You landed the biggest account in this firm’s history. How do you feel?” He teetered slightly as he poured the contents of his glass down his throat greedily. Carl mumbled something incoherently. Dan eyed him suspiciously.
“What? It sounded like you said like shit.” He laughed nervously. Carl lifted his head slowly.
“I did say ‘like shit’. I have to tell Ellen that I’m leaving. She’ll be devastated after what’s happened.” Carl dropped his head back into his hands. Dan looked around nervously, looking for a way out. He had heard about Carl’s “situation”. Just then his assistant happened to walk by, giving him an instant out.
“Ok well congrats buddy. See ya ‘round.” He made haste to catch up with is assistant, slipping his arm around her shoulder, talking animatedly.
It had been two years since Carl and Ellen had lost Eli. He had been their prize and joy for his whole short little life. Carl and Ellen had been arguing one warm summer night and told Eli to go out in the yard to play. They didn’t like exposing him to their “grown-up” issues. Eli had happily done as he was told and went out in the yard, heading to his playhouse. Eli was like any other precocious seven year old. Full of life and curiosity. As eye-witnesses told it, they saw a petite woman at the far end of the yard approach Eli. They talked for a few minutes, with the woman pushing Eli in his swing. The woman whispered something in his ear, and they strode off into the recesses of the surrounding woods holding hands. No one had ever seen Eli again. Carl and Ellen had searched tirelessly, both blaming the other for their misfortune. Replaying the situation over and over in his mind, Carl tried to see a hole in the situation so he could take full responsibility. But there was none. There was nothing anyone could have done. Their marriage was almost at the point of absolution. But then miraculously Gracie was born and changed the dynamic of their little family. She was the silver lining.
And now here sat Carl. Beaten and defeated. Their lives would never be quite the same. It was as though a huge, gaping hole existed where his heart used to be. Little by little Gracie was filling that hole, but there would always be vacant nooks and crannies that should wouldn’t be able to fill. Those still belonged to Eli.
As luck would have it, a little over a week ago a detective had called their home regarding some new information. They had found Eli’s shirt in the woods about ten miles from their home. It was shredded and full of blood. Ellen had been inconsolable since then, never stirring from her bed except to use the bathroom. Carl’s sister had been staying with them to care for Gracie while Carl went to work. And now Carl was going to make Ellen’s life that much worse with his leaving.
Glancing at his watch, he knew he couldn’t avoid the situation any longer. Slowly gathering himself and his belongings, he walked thru the gauntlet of congratulations, hand shakes and back slaps. Stepping out of the building, he inhaled the crisp ocean air coming from the Pacific. He was going to miss the warmth. Once in his car, he envisioned how he would tell both Ellen and Gracie that he would be gone for a few months. He could already see the pain in Ellen’s eyes and hear the hurt in Gracie’s little voice. His heart was already breaking into a million pieces at the prospect of what would come. Pulling into the driveway, he watched the scene unfold through his front window. He could see Alex, his sister, placing dishes on the dining room table as Gracie ran the length of the house excitedly. Ellen was no where to be found. Scanning the second floor, he saw that the light in the bathroom was on. Sighing heavily, he grabbed his briefcase and walked the cobblestoned path to his front door. Before he could turn the knob, the door flew open and Gracie’s chubby little arms were wrapped around his legs babbling away. His heart lightened momentarily as he savored the happy moments as a parent. Body still firmly clamped to his legs, he walked with her attached to him, dumping his briefcase in the hallway. Plucking her from his legs, he swung her body in the air in a faux catch, she squealed in delight. They proceeded with their ritual for a few moments before kissing her on her forehead and setting her down.
He forced his body to head in the direction of the stairs. He had to see Ellen. Usually, he would rush home to spend time with his girls, but today was different. He was the bad guy. Walking into their shared bedroom, he noticed that the curtains were still drawn, despite it being six pm. He strode to the window and pulled the fabric back, drenching the darkened rooms in the rays of the day. The mound beneath the heap of blankets stirred slightly. Slipping out of his loafers, he climbed into the bed with his wife to snuggle away some of the hurt. Slipping an arm around her waist, he pulled her tightly to his body, nuzzling her neck. He inhaled her essence of vanilla and honey, wishing he could take her pain away. She rolled over to face him. He could see the moistness around her puffy red eyes. She had been crying again. The sadness in her eyes consumed both of them. Carl often worried that had they not had Gracie, what would have happened to them. Both were spiraling into a deep dark cavernous place that they might not have been able to escape otherwise.
Kissing her gently, he dove in. He told her about the project, what was going on in the office and then the biggest news. She lay there staring at him absently for a minute as her brain computed the information just conveyed. She blinked stupidly for a moment before rolling herself right out of the bed. She stripped her clothes as she walked towards the bathroom, starting the shower. That was the first time in a week she had showered with no probing. Carl lay there dumbfounded by her actions. Carefully he approached the bathroom.
“Ellen? Are you ok?” Carl stood at the doorway, peering in cautiously. After a moment or two she spoke.
“I have no choice but to be ok Carl.” Her voice was quiet and subdued. Sliding back the shower door, he climbed in with her fully clothed. He hugged her tightly, letting the water cascade off of their bodies. They hugged and kissed sensuously, melting into each other. Everything would be ok. She had already forgiven him.
One Week later…..
Carl’s fourteen hour flight left him tired and drained as he pulled his luggage along behind him. He scanned the sea of drivers with signs for his name. Hermine.
He strolled to the dapperly dressed man, ready to begin his work mission. The driver swiftly grabbed his rolling suitcase and glided them to the awaiting Towncar. Carl slid into the backseat, immersing himself in the cool leather seats. He watched the exquisite rolling landscape pass by. Brazil really was an adults paradise. Bronzed bodies, oiled and toned, frolicked in the streets; making every second feel like a photo op or a catalogue shoot. The women here all looked like models fresh off the pages of Gucci or Prada. In every shade and shape, the women oozed sensuality. Carl was a fat kid in a candy store.
They pulled up to Carl’s new home, his hotel in downtown Sao Paulo. The trees lining the curved driveway, smelled of sweetness. He inhaled deeply, savoring the moment. The driver unloaded his suitcase from the trunk, placing it on the curb. The driver cleared his throat, interrupting Carl’s moment.
“I was told by Mrs. Kendricks to escort you wherever you may need to go. Here is my card. If you need anything, just call me.” Handing Carl his card, he climbs back into the Towncar and heads off down the road. Carl watches him pull away, standing there absently for a moment. A car horn blaring behind him made him jump.
A golden goddess sat behind the wheel of an old decrepit looking green car. The paint job was horrid and the dents and scratches to the body looked to be thousands of dollars worth of damage. She continued to blare her horn in the hopes it would motivate him to move. He stood staring at her stupidly while the world around him moved seemingly in slow motion. She said something in Portuguese that he didn’t understand. Climbing half out of the car, she repeated herself again in her thick accent, but this time angrier.
“Mova isolado!! O que havém de errado com você !!” He still stood staring at her. It was as if he had seen the white light and was content to just float in the light for a bit longer. Exasperated, she sighed, walking over to him.
“American?” She eyed him suspiciously. Men in Sao Paulo didn’t often wear six hundred dollar Zenga suits in the middle of summer. Recomposing himself, he realized he was face to face with her.
“Yes. I’m Carlson.” He extended his hand to her. She swatted at his hand, placing both hands squarely on his chest, pushing him backwards and onto the curb.
“You stay here. You are in way of de cars.” Her clipped English made her all the more endearing. This woman could have been a dead ringer for Debra Nascimento. He stood on the curb as he was told as the woman attempted to cajole her aging automobile into a parking space at the far end of the parking lot. She walked back in his direction, causing his heart to race. Her ample hips swung seductively in her filmy dress, supple breasts jiggling with every step. She breezed right past him and into the lobby. He caught a whiff of her essence as she walked past. Cinnamon.
He watched her walk up to the front desk, talk to the man behind the counter and head off to the right and out of his sight. The exchange could have taken no more than two minutes, but in Carl’s mind it had been an eternity of ecstasy. He quickly shuffled himself and his suitcase into the hotel, intent on catching up to this gem of a woman. Once at the counter, he waited patiently for the front desk attendant to get off the his call. Carl couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t sound like a business call based on the man’s tone and his laughter. Carl scanned the lobby and tried to see where the woman had gone. He was becoming increasingly impatient.
“Sir?” He implored as politely as possible. The man held up his index finger to signal that he should wait. Carl drummed his fingers on the tiled countertop absently, still scanning the area. The man placed the phone back in the cradle carefully, folding his hands on the countertop in front of him. He cocked his head to the side expectantly.
Clearing his throat, Carl tried again.
“Hi. I’m Carlson Hermine. I’m checking in.” He gave a half hearted smile and reached inside his suit jacket to retrieve his wallet. The man clicked away at the keyboard hidden underneath the counter, never speaking or glancing in Carl’s direction. He wordlessly slid the hotel key to him, a fake smile plastered on his tanned face. Carl eyed him warily, taking the key. 243. This was his new home for the next three months. He took a step towards the elevator, heading to the second floor and stopped.
“A dark haired woman came in right before me. What room is she in?” He leaned in closer, hoping to convey the urgency of the information needed. The man looked at him quizzically. Carl tried again in his broken Portuguse.
“Mulher escura.” He motioned with his hands to extenuate her height.
“Ahhh, não é nenhuma convidada” The man bobbed his head definitively, hands folded once more in front of him. Carl looked at him exasperatedly. This was going to be a long three months unless he learned some Portuguese. This time it was the man’s turn to try again.
“She no stay here.” This time Carl got it. She must be visiting someone, explaining the lack of luggage. Defeated, he went to his room.
Swinging open the door, he was impressed with the accommodations his assistant and procured for him. By far much nicer than what he would have booked for himself. Everything was buttercream and white. Cozy. He kicked off his dress shoes and stripped down to his boxers and he rummaged thru the mini-bar. Plucking a tiny bottle of water from the fridge door, he downed the contents and walked to the balcony. He leaned in the door frame, watching the world around him. The fresh air and sun lured him further out onto the balcony. Pushing a chair right to the edge, he peered down at the people below. He sat like this for a while, suddenly missing his wife and little girl. He reveled in these thoughts for a while before his train of thought was interrupted by a loud argument that had spilled outside a few doors down. He could make out a few words here and there, and none of them sounded good. He heard the shattering of some glass and two women tussled out onto the balcony. He watched wide eyed. It was her. Mulher escura.
The other woman, blonde and perky was yelling at the dark woman, poking her in her ample bosom. The dark haired woman, easily three inches taller than her counterpart, looked terrified of the blond woman. Blondie grabbed the other woman by the hair, pushing her to the railing of the balcony. The screaming continued. Carl watching apprehensively knew he had to act before something horrid happened. Scaling the three balcony railings between them like a regular Spiderman, he was there within seconds, hands firmly clamped around each woman’s wrist. Blondie looked confused, but the other woman’s relief was quite apparent. Something falling to the floor with a clink, made all three pairs of eyes fall to the ground. A knife. Blondie was going to severely hurt this woman if she had the chance. Blondie glared at the other woman defiantly, but the other woman was not going to budge, body clamped firmly against the railing of the balcony.
Carl looked from woman to woman, waiting for someone to speak, some sort of resolution. Blondie, having had enough of the Mexican standoff, retreated into the room. The dark haired woman threw her arms around Carlson’s neck and hugged him with all of her might. He felt a dewy wetness forming on the collar of his shirt. Tears. She clung to his body desperately, trying to compose herself. Reluctantly he hugged her back. He knew the boundries of a married man, and they didn’t include holding onto a beautiful woman for an extended period of time.
But despite Carlson’s resolve and love for his devoted wife, he was still a man with serious needs. And Mulher escura, real name Hanesa, was just what he needed. Attentive, vibrant, loving, and fun, she was everything that Ellen was not right now. The more time he spent with Hanesa, the less he thought of Ellen and Gracie. They were becoming more and more like figments of a former life. He languished in the hot tropical heat with his Brazilian beauty, proud. There was finally a sparkle of life in his eyes. But that light was soon going to be nothing more than a flicker.
Carlson rose on that Tuesday with no greater intention than to go to his ten am meeting and head to the beach with Hanesa. But that was not what the day had planned for him. As he strolled into the banquet hall where all of his co-workers were meeting beforehand, he heard a gruff voice beckoning him from across the room. He scanned the faces to locate the owner. Spotting his director, he glided with confidence and ease to his table. Unbottoning his suit jacket, he sat in the high back chair next to his boss. His boss, Mr. Crumlick did not look pleased.
“Hermine have you seen the latest report that came in from Dallas?” His normally pasty skin, was splotched with red patches, most likely anger. Carlson shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“Umm, no I haven’t had the chance to review it yet. What was wrong with it?” Carlson reached for the sugar in front of Crumlick, only to be blocked by the man. His hand rested atop the sugar container defiantly.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Hermine?” His voice was low and sharp. Anger seethed out in every syllable.
“We didn’t bring you here to fuck every thing that walks. We all know Mr. Hermine. Get your head out of your ass and fucking focus!!!” He pushed the container in Carlson’s direction forcefully, causing it to spill into a nice neat pile in front of Carlson.
Despite the deep, dark tan Carlson had attained, he went a ghostly white at his boss’ revelation. Defeated, he hung his head to his chest, holding his head painfully. Crumlick looked down at Carlson from the bridge of his nose. He had a look of disdain and disgust on his face that Carlson was not accustomed to seeing. As the golden boy, Carlson was not allowed mistakes. Especially not when his boss was watching.
“I’m so sorry sir. My head is in the game, I just got a little distracted. It wont happen again.” His eyes pleaded for Crumlick to understand, but he didn’t seem to be getting through to the older gent.
“I don’t give two shits who you fuck. Just don’t embarrass me or the firm. We’re heading back to the states the day after tomorrow. Get your shit in order. ” He pulled the napkin from his lap and placed it on his empty breakfast plate.
“Just one question. How would Ellen feel?” His words hung in the air like a misguided missle. He had opened a big gaping wound. Crumlick glanced pitfully at Carlson and strode to the table a few feet away where the partners were eating.
Carlson looked around apprehensively. The other people at the table were all lowly assistants, interns and lackeys that doted on Crumlick. All four sets of eyes looked at him with sympathy. Sighing, he heaved himself up and headed back to his room to retrieve his laptop. Once safely in his room, he felt the weight of emotions over the last 2 years. Falling face down onto his plush bed, he sobbed like a baby. This was not the way he had intended for things to be. He wanted to be the superhero for Ellen, any way he could. He wanted to be that male figure for Gracie that she would always idolize. And most of all, he wanted to turn back time and keep Eli. But none of those things were possible. Those were not the cards that he had been dealt. He would just have to play his hand.
Composing himself, he picked up the phone on his nighttable and asked to be connected to a US operator. He was going to have to tell Ellen what he had done.
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