“Is it about the objectification of women?” A blonde who looked like she knew a thing or two about objectification of women asked. Stephan Cade sighed and rubbed his temples.1
“It’s an abstract.” he told her. “It isn’t about anything.”2
“It has to represent something!” she insisted, gesturing again at the painting. “Look, it’s a collage. You cut out pornography and painted over it with red and black to represent the psychological genocide of women, how our society symbolically kills them by turning them into objects. The voice of this piece-”3
“Look, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Cade said. “This piece doesn’t mean anything. I like red and black. I especially like porno. What I don’t like is having my own work explained to me by a grad student living on Daddy’s credit cards.”4
“Yeah, but-” Her pristine pink mouth took on a look of outrage. Cade sighed. Continuing this conversation would be mental suicide.5
“I don’t care.” He spoke slowly so he could be certain she understood. “I don’t care what your art teacher told you. I don’t care what you’ve read. I don’t care how many hours you’ve logged in studying Van Gogh and Picasso. You don’t listen. You need to go away.”6
The girl turned and stormed away. Stephan leaned up against the wall and reached into his pocket. He was supposed to have quit smoking this week but that ship had sailed. That would teach him to be foolish enough to try and quit during the week of an art opening. 7
“For future reference, Cade,” The voice of his publicist, Christina, spoke behind him. “offending the curator’s daughter is not the way to get a grant.”8
“Who says I want a grant?” Cade asked. He could still hear the girls heels as they clacked across the cement floor to complain to Daddy. 9
“I do.” Christina told him. “You’re an artist. Art isn’t a great way to make a profit in a good economy, much less this one. You should want all the money you can get your hands on.”10
“Look, I already have more cash than I ever had before, more than enough for what I need.” Cade said. “Why should I kiss the ass of every idiot who promises a little more?”11
“Because artists need patrons.” She said. “It’s a fact as old as time. Your work is popular now but things change. You need something stable, my curly haired genius.”12
Cade didn’t say anything but took a long drag from his cigarette.13
“I thought you were quitting this week.” Christina said.14
“Nope.”15
“You should.” She said. “You’re only twenty eight, Cade, but you’ve got the health of a sixty year old. Too much booze, too many drugs, way too many women-”16
“I respectfully disagree.” Cade laughed. “No such thing as too many women.”17
“Have it your way, Cade.” Christina sighed. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”18
Cade shook his head. “No, I can’t.”19
“Are you drunk?” She asked.20
“A little.” He grinned. “It helps me deal with stupid people like little Miss Trust Fund over there.” Actually, Cade was only a little buzzed. He always drank to take the edge off his hangovers.21
“I’m calling you a cab.”22
“Fine. I hate sucking up to rich people.” Behind his dark sunglasses, Cade observed the select group of people who’d deigned to look at his work. This same group of people, though they and their kind were responsible for his current affluence, would have never even acknowledged him three years ago. As it was, his patrons saw nothing but a trained monkey. Look, everyone, the poor kid can paint.23
“Well, unfortunately for you, poor people don’t buy art. Even rich people don’t buy art, unless you kiss their asses for it.” Christina sighed again. “Honestly, Cade, you might be speaking for the common man but he’s not gonna buy any of your paintings, much less give you cash to work on.”24
“I don’t speak for anybody.” Cade muttered. “I paint what I feel like. Besides, I don’t need a grant. I’ll just sell paintings on the street corner like I used too.”25
“No way, José.”26
“Why not?”27
“First off, it doesn’t make me any money.” She grinned. “Second off, the homeless artist is only good as a back story.”28
“Mr. Cade?” Another damn young person approached them. He was male this time and had spent a lot of money to look geek chic and avant garde. “Would you mind looking at my sketches?”29
Cade glanced at Christina. “Call the cab, would you, please?” He turned to the kid. “Look, if you want to do anything, just do it. I don’t even know how the hell I got into this business. I got nothing to teach you.” 30
31
32
Cade woke up the next morning with a hell of a hangover. Christina had made sure he got home. At the crack of noon, he rolled over and tired to go back to sleep. At two o’clock, he managed to get out of bed and stagger around the house hold, bumping against all variety of lamps and hanging plants, cursing profusely. Around four, after he’d smoked two cigarettes and drank half a glass of orange juice, the mail arrived.33
Cade staggered to the door and cringed at the sunlight. He reached into the box and pulled out a package of envelopes. Bills mostly and some junk mail announcing a sale at JC Penny’s. Cade tossed all these aside until finally his eyes rested on a small, self addressed envelope.34
Stephan Cade35
229 C. Twenty Second Avenue36
New York, New York, 10001 37
And in the top left hand corner, written in equally legible handwriting. 38
Longview, Iowa, 55240 39
Cade stared at it. A letter from home. His tiny, hick home town that he honestly believed he hadn’t thought of in almost ten years. He recognized the handwriting of course. It belonged to Mrs. Lucy Erickson, the closest thing he’d ever had to a real mother. Mrs. Erickson sent a card every Christmas, usually with a smiling frosty the snow man or glowing pine tree decorated with glitter on the front and a family news letter inside. Cade never sent anything back but he felt certain Mrs. Erickson understood. It was late August. Mrs. Erickson wouldn’t write this early unless something was wrong.40
Cade shoved his fingers in between the flap and the envelope and tore it open.41
Dear Stephan, it read. 42
How are you, dear? I know I haven’t written since Christmas but you know how things get around here. Busy, busy, busy!43
Brian says hello. He and Vanessa are doing just fine and so are the children. You really should come and visit more, they’re growing so fast. Natalie is just starting the third grade and little Becca is- 44
There were two more paragraphs filled with familial updates before Mrs. Erickson got to the point. 45
I suppose you’re wondering why I’m writing, Stephan. It’s your father. He was diagnosed with lung cancer two weeks ago. The doctors say it’s stage four and he doesn’t have very long to live. I tried calling you but I’m not sure if the number you gave me still works. You never seem to pick up the phone. I’m sure you’re very busy with your home life. Anyway, I know you didn’t get a long very well with your father but he’s been asking for you and I was hoping maybe you’d come home for a visit. We’d all love to see you and it would mean the world to your father. We aren’t sure how much longer he has but now would be a good time to try and mend your relationship. Please come home, Stephan. 46
Love,47
Mrs. Lucy Erickson 48
PS: Hope to see you soon. XOXOXO! 49
Cade crumpled the letter and let it drop to the ground. Mrs. Erickson always had the most tactful way of expressing herself. So his dad was dying. He couldn’t honestly bring himself to care much. Oliver Cade had never been around much when his son was growing up. Stephan was the product of a drunken marriage and an even hastier divorce when his father’s parents found out about it. The Elder Cade family was old money, something about oil money in Texas. How they winded up in a dump like Longview, Iowa, was anyone’s guess. Cade sure as hell did know. His father’s side of the family never spoke to him.50
The Cades didn’t approve of their son marrying and knocking up the village slut and, after he sobered up, Oliver agreed. He sent Cade’s mother $1000 a month in child support. Cade never saw a nickel of it. Danielle Cade (she kept the name out of spite) had a fondness for race tracks and other amusements.51
Irritated, Cade stalked back into the kitchen and poured himself a drink. He barely tasted the liquor as he gulped in down. After he’d turned 18, he’d left Iowa as fast as his legs could carry him. The place held nothing but shame for him. His father still lived uptown, occasionally mixing with the common folk and the entire population stared with pity and mistrust at his unacknowledged, illegitimate son. There was nothing Cade hated more than their pity so he tried to build their mistrust. He’d been in and out of juvenile hall since he was twelve years old, though there was a brief period of peace when he was seventeen (just old enough to be tried as an adult) and living with the Ericksons.52
Brian Erickson was one of the few friends Cade had in Longview and Mrs. Erickson offered him a place to stay after Danielle left to pursue a modeling carrier. The two years he lived there had been the most normal of his life. He had a family, a job, and even a girl friend. The Ericksons were the only real family Cade had ever known. Lucy fussed over him and her husband, Bill, treated him like a son. For Bill Erickson, this meant lots of shouting and work, both for Cade and his own son, Brian, in order to “prepare them for the real world”. Brian, who was already Cade’s best friend, became like a brother.53
He felt a twinge of guilt for not talking to them enough and reached again for the bottle. Of course, they all had their own lives. Mrs. Erickson was the only one who tried to make contact on a regular basis. Brian had married his high school sweet heart and lived two blocks from his parents’ house. His life was a good damn sitcom! Cade despised Longview, Iowa and despised his father even more. The man was asking for him? After twenty eight years of ignoring him, the bastard wanted him at his bedside!54
“What the hell does he want now?” Cade muttered to himself, taking another shot. He leaned forward and picked the letter up off the carpet. Mrs. Erickson was always trying to get him and his father together. It was one of her strange compulsions to make every family as creepily happy as her own. She meant well. She always did.55
Cade sighed and took another drink. He would have to go back, of course. He never could say no to Mrs. Erickson. She was his mother, in every way but biological. She sent him cookies, told him he had beautiful hazel eyes and that he should hide them behind dark glasses and to stand up straight. She’d never asked him to come home before. He’d have to do it. The only question that remained was how many drinks he needed to have before he convinced himself.
56
57
“Marina Vasquez, you know that I can love no other but you!”58
“Get on your white stallion, my lord.” She murmured, fighting back the tears, “and never again return!”59
“I cannot!” he grasped her in his arms and-" 60
“Miss McManus?”61
“I’m busy!” Jackie McManus shouted as her fingers flew over her keyboard. She was almost to the part where Lord Nathaniel Cravenwood left his true love to fight the oncoming barbarian hordes. She’d been going over this passage in her mind since the moment she’d conceived Love Aflame in her mind. No interruptions were to be permitted.62
“How dare you deny it?” Martina demanded. “I can never forget the sight of her in your arms! You claim to love me and yet-" 63
“Miss McManus?”64
“WHAT?!” Jackie yelled in frustration. She had hired an assistant so she wouldn’t be distracted by every little damn thing.65
“Th-there’s a letter for you, Miss McManus.”66
Jackie groaned. Trevor was usually so good about not bothering her. It must be important. Lord Cravenwood’s response would have to wait.67
“Fine!” she snapped. “Bring it in.” Jackie leaned back against her elegant red leather desk chair, and waited. Her assistant tiptoed in like a scarred rabbit. His hands were shaking as he passed her the note.68
Jackie glanced over the contents and stared at him.69
“Trevor, who gave this to you?” She demanded, rising.70
“A street courier.” Trevor said. “I told him to wait in the lobby. Should I send him in?”71
“Yes. Send him in now!” Trevor turned and hurried from the room. Jackie sighed and bit her lower lip. She shouldn’t have yelled at him. Trevor was the best assistant she’d ever had and he took his job very seriously.72
“He’s gone!” Trevor was white as snow. Jackie felt dizzy.73
“Call security.” she ordered, sinking into her chair. “He can’t have gone far.”74
Trevor nodded and left. Jackie shuddered and looked down at the letter crumpled in her hand. This was the third one this year. Every second Thursday of every month, another letter like this arrived. There were followed, every month, by phone calls without a voice on the other end, anonymous gifts and shadows that jumped out at her from nowhere. Outside her office, she heard Trevor describing the courier to security.75
“Early thirties, blond hair and wearing a grey hoodie. Yes. Bring him to Miss McManus’s office. Thank you.”76
He opened the door so only his face could be seen. “Miss McManus? Can I bring you anything?”77
Jackie shook her head. “No. Thank you, Trevor.”78
Trevor ventured slowly into the room and went to her desk. “What does it say this time?”79
She shrugged. “Same old. Same old.” She handed the letter to Trevor and sighed. He read in silently, Jackie already knew what it said.80
My Dearest,81
Can you believe it’s been almost two years since first we met? I admit, I can hardly imagine life without you, yet I have sensed your presence from the moment of my being though I could not name it for many years. I know you feel the same. Those passionate missives you write to me, disguised as romance novels to hide our secret love, prove it to me. I know that every word from your blessed pen is meant for me, just as every action and every breath I take are meant for you. 82
It took me so long to work up the courage to share my feelings with you, My Dearest Jacqueline. You are a goddess, my love and your words commands from on high. I thought the fates never would allow someone as low as I to ever come in contact with you but finally, I simply had to reach out to you.83
I know why you don’t answer my letters anymore, Jacqueline. I treasure the first and only one written for my eyes alone. I know the people controlling you wish to squash our love, to drive me from your mind. I know they force you to ignore my letters and my gifts. I know they forced you to leave your apartment and posted sentries to keep me away. I dare not sign my name, even to you, Love, lest they find me and silence my pen.84
But fear not, my love, I am watching you, protecting you all the time. I am with you every waking moment and I dream of you when I sleep. I will allow no one to come between us. I know you are afraid. I know you are confused. I see you with the others, the ones they approve of and I feel the white hot rage inside of me. I know they can mean nothing to you but then, why do you see them? Perhaps you fear I have forgotten you? No, Darling Love, I could never forget you. I have carved your name into my flesh and driven away those who would harm you.85
Still, I cannot help but feel that you have forgotten me. Jacqueline, my love, why must you torment me? You know we are meant for always, why do you persist in seeing other men nowhere near your level? You know you belong to me and I will defend with my life. You would be united with me, darling, in sweet death.86
I bleed for you, Jacqueline, why don’t you notice me?! I am ALWAYS with you. Look for me, Love. I watch you through your window, your sweet silhouette behind the shades. Those shades and those windows are all that separate us, Love. I pray each moment for the courage to break through them and finally unite our love.87
Please, Love, find your way to me. Each day my resolve grows stronger. I shall have you, Love. I shall win you. 88
Look for me,89
Lorenzo90
PS. I will love you, forever. Into Night and Death. 91
“He always ends with that.” Jackie muttered. “I hate those damn words.”92
“But you wrote them.” Trevor said. “In your first novel, Emerald Heart.”93
“I know.” Jackie sighed. “A tale of love and redemption between the princess, Regina, and her Spanish love Lorenzo. I hate that damn book.”94
“It is kind of sweet.” Trevor murmured. “A secret admirer.”95
She stared at him. “Trevor, you’re working in the smut business. Romanticism is a great quality for the job but keep it in check. A secret admirer is a euphemism for stalker.”96
“Sorry.”97
“It’s fine.” Jackie sighed. “Look, I can’t think any more about this. I’m going to sleep. Hold all of my calls and I want you to call Detective Ellewise and Doctor Nakashima. Try and have them here as soon as possible, preferably together.”98
“Yes, Miss McManus.” Trevor said, nodding.99
Jackie smiled. She felt worn out, though only a few minutes ago, she had been bursting with energy. “Would you bring me a glass of water too, please?”100
“Yes, Miss McManus.”101
“Thank you, Trevor.” She said. “I don’t know how I would get along without you.”102
“It’s nothing, Miss McManus.” Trevor smiled and left silently. Jackie rubbed her eyes. The detective working her case and her own personal psychiatrist had extremely busy schedules, which meant they might not be able to see her for hours, or even days. Until then, she would simply have to wait. Standing, Jackie shut down her computer. After her cat went missing two months ago, she’d had the back room adjacent to her office converted into a bedroom. The door was painted exactly like the back wall and had a voice activated lock. Only Trevor and Jackie herself knew of the room’s existence. That was the room where Jackie spent her nights.103
Jackie’s new living quarters were certainly much smaller than the pent house apartment she’d left behind but just as beautifully designed. Jackie felt slightly mortified that she, one of the most successful romance novelists in America, one of the few businesses that still made a profit after the recession hit, was reduced to living out of her office but that didn’t mean she had to live in an ugly office. She’d kept her bed, a large brass king size with a canopy of red silk, her oak bookcase filled with her own work, not to mentions Steinbeck, Salinger and a few other interesting volumes, and all of her clothes. Jackie had lived with hardship before. She didn’t like it.104
Not bothering to change clothes, Jackie climbed into bed. She’d left the door open since it locked immediately from the inside. Trevor knocked like a gentleman before coming in with her water.105
“I brought you some head ache pills with the water.” He told her, setting the glass and the pills on her small bedside table.106
“Thank you, Trevor.” Jackie said. “Did you get a hold of Detective Ellewise and Doctor Nakashima?”107
“Yes, they can both come in at ten AM tomorrow.” Trevor said. “Now, try to get some sleep, Miss McManus.”108
“I’ll try.” Jackie smiled. “Be sure to close the door behind you, Trevor. Thank you.”109
“Of course, Miss McManus.” He nodded and closed the door without a sound. Jackie reached for the tall glass of water and gulped it down, taking the two aspirin with it. She settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Sleep came like a rocket and, for once, Jackie remained undisturbed by nightmares.
110
111
A sharp raping on her door finally shocked Jackie out of her slumber. She groaned and sat up. Jackie didn’t feel like she’d slept at all but the digital clock on her cell phone read 9:25 AM and Jackie did not care to contradict it.112
“I’m awake, Trevor.” She called to the knocking. “Give me ten minutes.”113
Yawning, Jackie climbed out of bed and stumbled into her bathroom. Her deshevaled black hair hung down to her breasts and Jackie scratched her head. She really hated herself early in the morning, appearance wise, and since Lorenzo had started writing things had only gotten worse. Saddle bags hung beneath her green eyes and her skin seemed to be paling every morning.114
Jackie had never considered herself a vain woman, what ever any previous boyfriend might have said, but she was always very aware of how she looked. She’d been raised in a world where a woman’s greatest attribute was her attractiveness to men and, correspondingly, how well she could manipulate them. Jackie considered herself an expert at the manipulation of men. She’d started when she was only a child, pleading with her father until he gave into her every whim. Later she would domineer her boyfriends and eventual husbands with a sweet voice and a gentle smile. Jackie was short, barely more than five feet which meant she could look up adoringly at just about anyone. There was no man in the world she couldn’t control, except for her stalker and…115
Jackie stopped brushing her hair in confusion. Why was she remembering this now? He’d simply been a high school boyfriend, or so she’d told herself, when she was slumming it after her father lost their money. At the time, Jackie recalled, she’d felt pretty serious about him. Stephan Cade… she hadn’t thought of him in almost ten years. Jackie wondered where exactly he’d disappeared to after he’d walked out of her life.116
Picking up her brush again, she continued to fix her hair, brushing harder now because she was in a hurry. Of course if Jack had been writing the scene in a novel, she would have said it was to drive Stephan from her mind. Satisfied with her appearance, Jackie stood and went to her closet. She choose a dark navy suit, casual but professional with a dark pencil skirt. She returned to the mirror again to apply the final cosmetic touches, black eyeliner, soft strawberry lip gloss and just a bit of mascara. Jackie smiled. She knew it was superficial but she always felt better when she had her make up on. 117
Still smiling, she went to face her visitors. Trevor had wisely kept the two waiting in the lobby. The detective entered first, a large, square shouldered man with a cynical expression. Jackie sat with her hand folded on her desk as he scrunched down into her office chair. Dr. Jane Nakashima followed. Dr. Jane was about the same size as Jackie and, like Jackie, she did not allow her diminutive stature to decrease her presence. She sat down in the chair next to Ellewise and linked her fingers together just as she did during Jackie’s therapy sessions.118
“Thank you both for coming.” Jackie said.119
“You seem awful calm, Miss. McManus.” Ellewise said. “Your assistant said you’d gotten another letter.”120
“Yes.” She nodded. “It was the second Thursday of the month.”121
“But you didn’t beef up security like I told you to.” Detective Ellewise was at least fifty years old. He reminded Jackie of her father, especially when he cast a critical eye on her. She supposed the major difference between Ellewise and her father was that Ellewise cared what she did.122
“No, I’m sorry.” She explained. “I’m working on the new novel and I lost track of the days…”123
“Security was increased, Miss. McManus.” Trevor interjected from the back of the room. “I saw to it myself.”124
Ellewise shifted in his chair and squinted at Trevor. “Have you reviewed the tapes?”125
“Yes, sir. There’s nothing out of the ordinary.”126
“Of course not.” The detective grumbled. “I’ll need to see those tapes anyway.” He turned back to Jackie. “I assume you saved the letter.”127
Jackie nodded. “I saved them all. Except the first few.”128
“Hand it over.” 129
Jackie did so. Ellewise looked it over carefully. “This on seems different from the others.”130
Jackie nodded. “He’s never threatened me outright before, just said some really creepy things.” 131
“Officer, may I see the letter?” Dr. Jane asked. He handed it to her. Pushing her glasses higher on her nose, Dr. Jane’s eye’s moved rapidly and she sighed. 132
“He’s very agitated. I think he’s having doubts about you, Jackie.”133
“Good.” She said. “Maybe now he’s getting the hint.”134
“No.” Ellewise shook his head. “With this type of stalker, he thinks you’re in some kind of secret relationship with him. If he thinks you’re cheating on him or uninterested, it could turn violent.”135
Dr. Jane nodded. “He’d feel betrayed and he’ll lash out against you.”136
“Of course.” Jackie sighed. “It didn’t seem too out of the ordinary but… I got a little freaked out.”137
“Good. Trust your instincts.” The detective said approvingly.138
“What should I do?”139
“It might be a good idea to get out of Chicago for a while.”140
“Are you sure that’s wise, Detective?” Dr. Jane asked. “Jackie shouldn’t be letting this man control her actions. She’s been able to keep herself separated from him emotionally and remaining independent.”141
“Safety first, doctor.” Ellewise growled. “Sanity and independence won’t do a lick of good if this guy decides to do something crazy.”142
“He did take my cat.” Jackie sighed. “I’m not sleeping at home anymore but he claims he can still see me.”143
Dr. Jane reached across the desk and touched Jackie’s hand. “Maybe it would be good for you to get out of the city, then. You put on an excellent shield, Jackie, but I know you must be very nervous.”144
“I hate that this crazy bastard even affects my life!” Jackie muttered in frustration. “I don’t even know who he is.”145
“Is there any family you could stay with?” Dr. Jane asked.146
Jackie laughed. “I haven’t seen my family in years. I guess they’re all back in Iowa.”147
“Have you told them about…?”148
“No.”149
“Why not?”150
Jackie shook her head. “We don’t talk about serious things in my family. We like o pretend everything is perfect.” She sighed. “Maybe I should go back, though. See everybody.”151
“It’d be better to go someplace you’ve never been before.” Ellewise said. “People must know where you come from.”152
“It’s the smallest least interesting part of Iowa.” She said. “I think I’ll be fine.”
Honorable mention
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