IT WAS HER WEDDING DAY. RUBY FELT SLIGHTLY queasy as she pulled on a cocktail dress she’d bought at the flea market and donned a pair of suede lace-up granny shoes with just enough heel to set off her calves. Tying the ribbons tightly, she knew that all she really wanted was to be able to get a proper work permit so she could stop cleaning old ladies’ houses. All Werner really wanted was to be able to live in Canada one day. And this was a step they had to take to reach those goals, it was that simple. They had mocked the idea of a real ceremony and planned to treat this like an ordinary day with a little party at the end of it. They would carry on as before in their two separate apartments. There would be no honeymoon. Ruby’s camera was broken, so there would be no pictures either. Would anything really change?
It was two o’clock in the afternoon. They were getting married at three. Ruby and Werner walked down the street to the subway, with Werner, as usual, walking a few paces ahead of her. The trains whizzed uneventfully through tunnel after tunnel until they reached downtown. Outside city hall her friends were waiting, all sombrely dressed in black. Ruby was not upset by the gloomy tone of their clothes; she glossed it over with a smile that said “Let’s get this job done with.”
The justice of the peace was a serious woman, all business and more than a little perfunctory. Ruby and Werner stood at the front of the room on a platform. They had given no thought to writing out their own vows and so they glibly repeated the phrases to each other as the justice of the peace read them out. Emma and Jack acted as witnesses. The whole thing took less than an hour. Ruby was relieved when it was all finally over; now they could go enjoy themselves.
From city hall they went to Jack and Smithie’s bar. Ruby and her friends loved it, partly because it was so rundown. The bar was in a former storefront, a low building that stretched along a grey, almost treeless street. The building facades were decrepit, weary with the weight of an uncaring history, and the sidewalks were littered with refuse and dog shit. A bright neon-pink sign with black lettering screamed out “Mean’s Motel” to passersby.
Inside, it reeked of stale beer mingled with the smell of curry. Jagged pieces of glass etched out a map-like piece of art on the back wall. The bar itself was shiny steel, and black and white tiles gleamed on the floor. There was one room for a pool table and another decked in red with a tiger-print blanket strewn across a black sofa. In the red room, all the tables were pulled together so the wedding gang could sit together for a meal, and red roses sat upright in a vase in the centre. Lina uncorked a couple of bottles of Veuve Clicquot and they started drinking. With R& B music blasting, they danced, taking turns as couples and then together as a group. They ate curry and continued drinking until the regulars started arriving. At the end of the night, the newly married couple stumbled back to Ruby’s apartment, too drunk to make out, and fell into a noisy sleep. Ruby was right. Being married didn’t change anything.
That night she dreamed of a long-forgotten memory. Ruby sat on the stairs in her teddy-bear pyjamas, chin cupped in her hands. She let the music wash over her. Her eyes were transfixed on her parents, as the big Basie beat swung them around the crowded room. She had watched them dance so often, always lingering to mimic their steps. Her father didn’t let his bad foot stop him and he still stomped out a rhythm in his own way. She skipped down the stairs and waded through bouncing, swaying legs.
“Please, Daddy, Mommy, let me dance with you.”
“Okay, sugar-pie.”
She sashayed between them, swishing her thin little hips from side to side.
“Girl, who taught you how to dance like that?” her father asked in a playful tone, eyes wide open with proud surprise.
“You did! You and Mommy!”
Her father roared with laughter, and then, as if remembering himself, he bent down to whisper with gentle sternness in her ear, “You better not take those moves out of this room, you hear!”
One evening a month later, Ruby went to Mean’s on her own, without Werner. It was later than she usually went to the bar, and the room was edgy. People were dressed from head to toe in black, with mohawks or gelled and spiked hair, piercings erupting all over their faces, the requisite Doc Martens boots on their feet. Ruby’s ears started to throb as the music pulsated in and out, punctuated by yelling voices. She stood in the room and could almost feel the shards of glass on the wall sticking into her skin. She was beginning to shake a little from nervousness, and needed some alcohol to quiet her nerves. This wasn’t really her crowd.
Jack and Smithie were working behind the bar. She ordered a whisky sour.
“Hey there, Miss Canuck! We’re just chatting about events back home,” said Smithie over the music. “You know our Dickie Mountbatten was assassinated last year. Well, now the government is tearing apart the IRA.”
“Who’s Mountbatten?” Ruby sorely regretted her question as soon as it slipped from her lips. There were guffaws all around.
“Lord Mountbatten of Burma, the overseer of the partition of India. What on earth do they teach you over there!”
Ruby countered, “Not as much colonial nonsense, that’s what!”
“Oh, low one, low one,” muttered Jack.
Now Ruby knew that was a bit of a lie. Her education had been focused on Europe, particularly England, not on Canada. It was not the first time that the Brits had put her in her place in terms of her knowledge of world history. She had the feeling that her North American education had shortchanged her.
Luckily Smithie said, “Oh, don’t be getting all serious and spoiling our fun. Lighten up, would ya?”
Ruby turned away from the bar to look into the crowd. At the doorway, she could see Emma wrestling off her coat. She looked forward to telling her about the new job she’d found as a translator at a language institute, and remind them both that the marriage had been worth it. She waved her hand in the air, and Emma smiled and nodded. As she turned back to the bar, she accidentally elbowed the young man standing next to her.
“You almost knocked my drink out of my hand!”
Ruby blushed and apologized profusely. He was fairly tall and had sharp features, with flinty grey-green eyes. His brush-cut hair was dyed black; if he hadn’t been in this bar, he could have almost passed for a military man.
Ruby smiled winsomely and said, “Can I buy you another, to replace the one you almost lost?”
He smiled and said, “Yeah, sure. Go right ahead.”
“What’s your name and what are you drinking?”
“It’s Dominick, and I’ll take another Pilsner.”
Ruby turned to Smithie. “Another Pilsner for Dominick here. It’s on me.”
Smithie eyed her. “What are you getting up to? And where’s Werner?”
“He’s out with his friends and I’m just having a little chitchat here.”
By this time Emma had come along and wedged her way between Ruby and Dominick. “Hey you.”
Dominick pulled up against Ruby and whispered, “Your friends are here, now you’re safe.” He grabbed his beer and stepped away. “Thanks. Catch ya another time?”
Emma shook her head and said, “I’m glad I saved you from him.”
“Why?”
“’Cause drug dealers aren’t a good catch.”
Ruby nodded, but she knew she was already taken by him—his undulating voice and knowing eyes, his cockiness. She wanted to see him again, no matter what he did.
“Girl, what’s gotten into you? Gone all goo-goo-eyed. Snap out of it. Where’s Werner? It’s past your curfew.”
Ruby winced.
Emma said, “Come on, let’s go dance.”
Ruby spied Dominick off in a corner chatting with a blonde in a revealing V-neck sweater. He saw her looking and nodded at her. Then he waved her over. Ruby turned to Emma and said, “See you in a bit.”
“Right, right, that’s the way,” Emma said and gave her the finger.
Ruby pushed through the crowd towards Dominick and his woman friend.
“Let me introduce you to Franka,” he said.
Franka’s lips curled into a smile as she leaned in to Ruby, saying, “My art, you know, is stripping. What’s yours?”
Ruby tried to find a witty retort. She pushed up her breasts with her hands and said, “Do you think they’re big enough? Maybe I could join you.”
Franka simply continued to smile while Dominick chuckled under his breath.
Ruby felt lost. She couldn’t keep up this sort of thing for very long. While she felt lucky that she had found something clever to say this time, she knew it would only be a matter of time before she struck out. And she wanted to impress Dominick.
“I hear you don’t learn much British history back in Canada,” he taunted. Apparently he wasn’t going to be easy to impress.
Ruby sighed. “We learn Canadian history, we learn a bit of American history. We learn a bit of British history, too. But by my thinking I’d rather learn the history of the world’s indigenous peoples rather than that of former slave masters.”
Dominick’s smile disintegrated, floating off his face into the air. “Are you calling me a former slave master? I’m Irish. We were the first victims of the British Empire.”
Franka had turned to face the broken mirror on the wall and was playing with her hair. Dominick excused himself and stalked off towards the back room. Ruby followed him; she was worried that she had offended him and wanted to apologize.
The back room contained a pool table where there was usually a game going on. Tonight, however, the lights were dimmed and a young couple lay naked on the table.
“Whoa,” yelped Ruby.
The young man cranked his head back towards her and yelled, “What are you staring at? Get outta here.”
The door to the kitchen swung open and Dominick stepped out. “You guys at it again?” Looking at Ruby, he shook his head and said, “You never know what’s gonna happen in this place. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He slipped his arm under Ruby’s and they glided through the crowd and out the door. “There’s an all-night café just around the corner.”
“Thanks, but I really have to go home soon,” she said, surprised by his sudden change in attitude. Before he had seemed shaky and on edge; now he was good-humoured and seductive.
“Oh, yes. I’ve heard about him. Keeps you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”
“Clearly not. I’m here, aren’t I?” After they sat down at the café table, Dom took her hand and pretended to read her palm. In a low voice he intoned, “You will be successful late in life.”
Ruby laughed and leaned in to him from across the table for a deep kiss full of longing. Then she said, “I have to go, but I’ll be back for more soon,” and slipped out the door.
When Ruby got home, Werner was waiting up for her. “Where have you been?” he asked.
“I told you I was going to Mean’s.”
“It’s so late. I was out, too, but I’ve been home for a while, waiting for you.”
“Werner, I detect a note of aggravation in your voice. What’s up?”
“I just don’t think you should be going there so late by yourself. It’s not safe.”
“What are you worried about? After all, didn’t you say we should allow ourselves some freedom? You’re treating me like a child again.”
“I have to look out for you.”
“Listen,” said Ruby, “I don’t need another father. One’s plenty enough. I’m going to bed.”
“Wait,” Werner called out. “I’m sorry, but I’m anxious because I feel responsible for you. And . . . I don’t want to lose you already.”
“Aha, so that’s what it’s all about. Lose me? Werner, I’m right here. Why do I have to remind you that you were the one who said we didn’t have to be monogamous?”
“Well, maybe I’ve never felt as strongly about someone as I do you.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” She stepped towards him and gave him a kiss. “But don’t push me into a corner and step on my toes.” They went to bed and Ruby let Werner make love to her, but she wasn’t really present. She fell asleep feeling confused and with her stomach in knots.
A week later Werner and Ruby went to Mean’s at their usual early time. Dominick was playing guitar in the band. Noticing her watch Dominick, Werner asked, “Who’s the junkie?”
“He’s a regular around here. Let’s go see if Emma’s in the kitchen.”
They walked through the bar to the back and pushed through the kitchen door. Two guys were huddled over a table, scoring some kind of deal.
“Hey, we’re not open for business back here,” said one, his sleeves rolled up and scarred arms naked to the eye.
“Sorry, we’re just looking for someone,” said Ruby as they backed out.
“They’re selling drugs in there,” Werner told her. “Now you see why I don’t like you coming here on your own.”
“Oh, come off it, Werner.”
“I don’t think we should stay too long,” he said. “I don’t want to hear any music tonight. Please come home with me.”
“Werner, I’m staying.”
“You’re a real piss-off, you know. I don’t want you to stay. I don’t want you watching that junkie all night.”
“Werner, stop being such a child. Now leave me alone.”
Werner’s eyes flashed in anger. Finally he said, “Okay, to hell with this. I’m leaving.”
Ruby watched him exit through the door, annoyed and confused by his jealousy. On the one hand, she didn’t want to feel like a puppet with Werner holding the strings; on the other, neither of them had been able to talk about their earlier deal since they got married. Her hands twitched at her sides and she kept circling around the bar stool, not knowing whether to sit or stand. She didn’t want to hurt Werner, but still she found herself looking around the bar for Dom.
Emma grabbed her hand and said, “Look. Here he comes. Your would-be lover.”
“Would-be?” said Dominick. “I’m not would-be anything.”
“Can you settle for lover?” asked Ruby. She got up off the stool and placed her arm around his waist. He was tall, so her head only came up to the top of his chest. He was wearing an electric-blue shirt and skinny black jeans and looked mighty fine. “Were those guys in the kitchen with you?” she asked.
“Don’t ask,” he said.
“I want to get to know you, so I ask questions. Isn’t that normal?”
“Yeah, but I’m a private kind of guy. Don’t like it when I think people are snooping around in my business. Anyway, I’m fine. Psyched up for playing tonight.” He went back to the stage.
There were three others in the band. Ruby was particularly interested in Isaac, on the drums. He was a Black guy with a giant afro. She was stunned to see him at Mean’s—everyone else was very white—and he gave her a nod and that smile of recognition that Black folks save for each other, especially in such situations. She remembered that her father would always point out any Black person he saw, and if it was on the street he would always wave or say hello. There seemed to be an implicit understanding that you acknowledged one another.
“Ruby, I think you should know that Dom is a user,” Emma burst in.
“What do you mean? He does drugs, I know.”
“Girl, he uses heroin. That’s a little different from smoking a joint.”
What did a heroin addict—was he an addict?—look like after all? Certainly she had noticed the shakes, as well as his ultra-nonchalance. She didn’t know what to think, so had chosen to be silent. There was something that drew her to Dom that she couldn’t put her finger on. She knew that she would be going home with him this night, but she was worried less about betraying Werner and more about whether Dom was truly a junkie. What was happening to her? Ruby shook off her many questions and grabbed hold of Dom at the end of his set and wouldn’t let go. Eventually, he said, “Let’s get out of here,” and pulled her towards the door.
Dom lived near Hermannplatz. From the subway they walked a few blocks to his apartment. As they climbed the flights up to the fifth floor, the rank odour of urine lingered on the landings. Dom led her down the hall to his room. One wall was painted black, with the Irish flag hanging on it. Photographs and maps were pinned up on the other walls.
Dom lay down on the bed and pulled Ruby down beside him. Finally, he slipped off his shirt and mumbled, “This is what you want to see, isn’t it? My tracks? I saw Emma talking to you and somehow I knew . . .”
“Yes, Emma did tell me, but before that I had no idea. Your arms do look pretty rough.” She couldn’t bring herself to touch them.
“So, you like asking questions. Fire away.”
“How long have you been hooked?”
“Two years. Not so long, really.”
“Are you really addicted, or just an occasional user?”
“Does this look occasional to you?” he said wearily.
Ruby didn’t want to ask any more questions. She didn’t know what to do with the information, what it meant to her, how to process it. “You’re going to get sick, Dom.”
“Don’t condescend to me. I know what’s in store.”
Ruby curled her body into his and she lay touching his chest, his face, tracing her fingers over his lips. They lay there, breathing quietly, not talking for some time. Eventually they undressed each other and made love for an hour before falling asleep.
When she woke at ten the next morning she thought that she could go back to her own place without worrying Werner. But he was in her apartment when she arrived.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“What else? I’m waiting for you. I guess you were out all night? Tell me, Ruby, did you go home with someone?”
“Oh, Werner, I don’t get you! My god, you practically announced the rules of the relationship to me back on that first night. We fall in love, but we come and we go as we please, more or less. Wasn’t that about it?”
“That is the way I’ve done things till now,” he said, looking down at the floor. He looked beat. “But, I just can’t let you go. It’s not the same . . . it’s not the same. I’ve told you already, you’re naive and so trusting. I can’t let go of you—it’s as if you might break. Then what would your father say? I’m asking to change this deal.”
“Right, bring my dad into it. You’re both the same. Werner, I want to stay with you, I do, but you have to give me space, let me come and go. You started this, you can’t just stop it. Why change now? Because I’m having fun and you’re not?”
Werner cursed under his breath. “I want to know if you went home with someone last night.”
“If you have to know, yes, yes I did. And that’s all I’m saying.”
Werner shook his head, a grimace contorting his face. Then he stormed out the door.
Ruby and Dom continued meeting up at least once a week, and Ruby thought she was avoiding Werner’s watchful eye. She was becoming extremely fond of Dom. He was funny and raucous, yet gentle when he needed to be. He had a musical soul and Ruby loved this about him. She loved to watch him play, his fingers lost between the frets, his mind at ease. He was a thoughtful lover and paid careful attention to Ruby’s desires and whimsies. But she worried incessantly about his addiction. She had seen him blow up on occasion, when he hadn’t gotten his fix. He was a different person then. She couldn’t talk to him about it; he would just shut her down.
A month after her blow-up with Werner, Ruby was visiting Emma in Moabit. Smithie and Jack crashed the party, bringing beer and vodka in tow. The two men settled in quickly, discussing the Pogues, a band they had all recently seen in concert. Jack watched Ruby and tilted a bottle of beer to his lips. “I hear you’re getting into Dominick’s pants,” he said.
Ruby gulped, came up for air and whooped, “What the hell is going on? Why does everyone know or care about this?”
There was a knock at the door. Emma went to open it and muttered, “Speak of the devil.” Dom stood before her.
“Is Ruby here?”
Emma nodded.
“I thought so.” He stepped into the apartment and waved Ruby over to him. “Been trying to reach you,” he said.
“Why?”
“I’ve come to take you for a ride,” he said, beaming at her. “I’ve got a car for a couple of days. Come on.”
Ruby didn’t hesitate. As they left the building the skies were darkening. Streaks of neon orange and pink crested the horizon. Dom pushed her towards a bright yellow Mustang.
“Wow,” she said. “Those are some wheels. Let’s drive down to Wannsee. I’ve never been there in winter before.”
Dom drove south and in no time they were in the Grunewald. As Dom kept her laughing with an array of new jokes, Ruby was mesmerized by lights that flanked the road, by the stark silhouettes of the trees, which were beacons in the night. They reached the lake and pulled into a parking spot. Stepping out, Ruby could see little waves frozen near the edge of the lake, looking like someone had dipped them in frosting. She sighed and thought of Uncle William’s first letter to Ella. Here was his beloved Wannsee, and she wondered if he had ever come here in winter. She grabbed Dom’s hand and ran down to the water. After walking along the shoreline for a bit they turned back to the car, and Dom crawled into the back seat, motioning for her to follow. They pulled off their coats and began a furtive game of kissing and touching. As things became more furious, they heaved against each other, grasping for bare skin and more kisses.
Ruby’s face was turned to the window, and she noticed someone skulking across the parking lot, headed their way. He had a dark mask pulled over his face and was waving something in his hand. “Oh my god, Dom. Dom! Someone’s coming.”
Bam, bam, bam! A fist rammed against the back window. “Get out of the fucking car” came a voice, muffled somewhat by the mask. He pointed a gun up to the window. “Get out or I’ll shoot.”
Ruby pleaded with Dom to not open the door, but he rolled the window down a notch and looked at the dark silhouette facing him. “Whaddaya want, buddy?”
“Ha! Good question. Let’s see—what do I want? I want the woman, that’s what. Both of you get out of the car,” the stranger yelled as he cocked the gun.
Ruby’s heart was leaping against her ribs. “What does he want with me, for god’s sake?”
Dom said, “Put the gun down and we’ll get out.”
“You’ve got some nerve, mister. Okay, down goes the gun.” He lowered it onto the icy ground.
Ruby and Dom crawled out of the back seat.
“That’s more like it,” said the man. His voice struck Ruby as being eerily familiar.
“Werner! Is that you? Are you fucking crazy?” She tried to grab at the balaclava covering his face. “Oh my god, it is you. Just what the hell are you doing, trying to pull off a stunt like this? Jesus!”
“Damn right it’s me. I followed you. I don’t want you making a fool out of me with this junkie. You’re coming home with me.”
Dom dove for the gun. Werner kicked at him as he went down. Ruby yelled, “No, Dom!”
Then a raucous laugh slipped from Dom’s mouth. “It’s fake, it’s a toy,” he said with a look of disdain and relief.
“Werner, how is this supposed to make me want to go home with you? Did you think stalking me would bring us closer? And how did you find us, anyway?”
“I followed you from Emma’s in my friend’s car. Now come with me,” he said, reaching to grab her hand.
Dom shoved Werner away and planted himself in front of Ruby. “You’re one sick puppy, man. She’s not going home with you.”
Werner was floundering. Dom was bigger than him and wouldn’t be easy to intimidate without a gun. Meanwhile, Ruby had slipped around to the other side of the car and slid into the passenger seat.
Werner kicked the side of the car several times. Dom just got back in, started up the car and drove off. Ruby looked back at Werner, who was shaking his fist at them, raw fury sweeping across his face.
As soon as she was home, Ruby went into the kitchen and poured herself a shot of brandy. She downed it in one go and walked down the hall to the bedroom. She threw herself onto the bed and without taking off her clothes, pulled up the duvet and closed her eyes. Her sleep was fitful. She woke in the night to the sound of dishes clattering on the kitchen floor. She got up and went down the hall. She could hear Werner cursing her as she neared the kitchen. Ruby stood gawking as she watched Werner smash plate after plate, glass after glass on her kitchen floor and against the walls.
When he saw her he yelled, “You bitch! I do everything for you—I even married you so you could stay here and find work. I don’t care what we said about having an open relationship. I want this to stop. I can’t handle it.”
“Why? This is exactly what you asked for. An open relationship with no chance to get bored . . .”
“It’s one thing for you to go off and screw your way around France. But not in my backyard. That’s different. I’m not seeing anyone else, Ruby, and I don’t want you to either. This whole thing was a mistake.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “You can’t expect me to believe that! What about your friend Ana? You have something going with her.”
“No, we’re just good friends.”
Ruby was floored. Werner had lots of female friends so she had just assumed that he was getting it on with one or the other of them, as he had warned her he would. Then she got angry.
“This is not okay, Werner. You started this. You said that you need to be free to see other women. Now I’m finally having some fun, you can’t just stop me. My god, you think you’re allowed to follow me and hold me up at gunpoint? And then you have the nerve to trash my kitchen? Get the hell out of here. I have nothing to say to you.”
Werner slammed the door behind him and she could hear his footsteps heavy on the stairs.
In the morning when he came by to apologize and offered to help clean up, Ruby told him, “I don’t want to see you for a while. I need a break.”
“Why are you walking away from me? What is wrong with you?”
“Are you crazy? Look what’s happened over the last few days. This is not working for me. I need some time to think.”
He stomped his foot on the floor, and she could almost see the flecks of fire exploding in his pupils. “You’re the problem, Ruby—not us, not me. You have no sense of direction, no sense of purpose, no sense of loyalty.”
Ruby looked at him and said quietly, “I am very sorry if this is hurting you. I’m feeling squeezed on all sides now and I need to take a breath. You won’t let me breathe. I’m not saying it’s over, I just need a break.”
Werner stormed off without another word. Ruby lay low for the next three weeks. He came knocking at the door a few times and left her a few pleading notes, but she managed to avoid him by keeping the chain on the door and by ducking in and out of the building only when she thought he would be busy with work or school.
One morning she woke up sick as a dog. She continued to feel shaky and queasy for several days. Finally she went to the doctor. He confirmed her suspicions. Ruby was pregnant.
Ruby told Emma the news.
“Oh my god, no. What are you going to do? I wouldn’t tell Werner if I were you. You have a big decision ahead of you. Like, are you going to keep it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t know whose it is. Werner and I use condoms and so did Dom and I. It’s a crapshoot. Impossible to tell.”
The doctor had told her that she was only seven weeks along. She could still have an abortion if she wanted one.
The next morning she stopped by Emma’s, hoping she was home. When she got upstairs, Dom opened the door, and Lina stood behind him in his shadow. Ruby almost fainted. She hadn’t expected him to be there.
“Where have you been lately?” he asked.
“I’ve just had some things to take care of, things to mull over.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.
Emma put on a pot of tea. Ruby was really stuck now, weighing what to say to Dominick. She wished he weren’t there, so that she could talk to Lina and Emma in private first. Finally, unable to contain herself any longer, and wanting to know how he would react, she asked Dom to come into the kitchen. There she blurted out, “I’m pregnant. I don’t know if it’s yours. I mean, I’ve been having sex with you and with Werner, too, occasionally. But I’m pretty sure I’m going to have an abortion.”
“Oh my god, Ruby, no. Jesus! Don’t make any decisions too quickly. What about keeping it?”
“I’m not exactly mother material right now.”
“Look, Ruby, take some time to think.”
“Christ, Dom, that’s what I’ve been doing all week. Feeling sick and thinking.”
“If you’ve made up your mind already, go ahead. You know what’s best.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“I don’t know what you want from me, but I’ll do my best.”
Ruby and Dom settled back down in the living room, but sat apart.
Emma studied them, and then stood up. “I’m gonna rustle up some potatoes and quark, if anyone’s interested.”
Ruby wasn’t feeling very hungry, but as usual, she found consolation in food. This was one of her favourite German meals. Werner made it for her all the time: waxy potatoes covered with a thick and creamy fresh cheese with linseed oil drizzled over top and some fried onions on the side. Simple and absolutely delectable. Thinking about it made her feel a little better right away, though the reminder of Werner stabbed.
She made an appointment for the following Thursday at the Turmstrasse Hospital. She had ten days to steel herself for the abortion. Emma came by for tea the day before her appointment, and in the evening they decided to go to Mean’s. Ruby ordered a beer for a change, wanting something cold and frothy to soothe her throat and quench her thirst. Then Dom stumbled through the door, and Ruby suddenly noticed just how thin he had become, and how dark the circles were under his eyes. He had put gel in his hair, and it was standing on end, all askew. He was drunk and frayed around the edges—shaking, his face drawn tight. He sidled up to Ruby, slurring his words as he locked his hand around her arm. “I have no time for you and your baby, you hear. I’ve got my own life to live.”
Ruby sighed and started to leave. Emma grabbed her hand and said, “You go on home, but you can count on me to come with you tomorrow if you need it. Just come by ahead of time.”
At home, Ruby lay down on her bed. She placed her hand listlessly on her belly and mused to herself whether it was a boy or a girl. Then she said a little prayer to her child, asking for forgiveness, and fell into a fitful sleep.
Muffled grey light slipped, barely noticed, through the curtains. It felt like the sun would never round the corner of the sky to come awaken her. In German, Thursday was Donnerstag: the day of thunder. She felt she had no other choice than to let herself be pummelled today. She rose quickly and showered in the stall that was built into the pantry in her kitchen. She was sure she was supposed to fast, but she drank a glass of juice anyway. As she dressed, she heard the key turning in the lock and then Werner stood before her. He tried to lead her playfully to the bed, but Ruby pushed him firmly away.
“Werner, I’m not interested. I have a lot on my mind.”
“What are you so busy with that you can’t spend some time with me?” he asked, looking doleful.
“I’m trying to find a purpose in life, remember? You need to give me space.”
“Why can’t I be involved? You need help finding yourself here in Berlin.”
Ruby threw her hands up in the air. “Stop trying to protect me from life! I’ve had it.”
Wheeling around, she grabbed her bag and ran out the door. She still had plenty of time, so she decided to walk down to Moabit from Wedding. She passed the square at Leopoldplatz just as the church clock was chiming. Ruby loved that she never had to wear a watch. The city was full of old squares with churches and their clocks. Time was everywhere and belonged to everyone—not just those with watches.
It took Ruby forty minutes to reach Emma’s street. She climbed to the second floor and knocked on the door. Emma opened and said, “Gimme a second, just got to pull my sweater and boots on. You know, I’ve been there before, too. I’ll bring you home after and feed you. You can stay as long as you like.”
Ruby just wanted it to be over, to stop thinking about babies and what this one would have been like.
She felt groggy and nauseated when she woke up, but Emma took hold of her hand as she sat up in the narrow bed.
“You should stay here for at least half an hour before we go home, just to get your bearings.”
“Good idea.”
“Do you want me to call a taxi?”
“Do you mind if we walk a block first? The fresh air will do me good, I’m sure.” Ruby was hoping to slow the rush of thoughts pouring into her head.
“Of course, but rest first. You shouldn’t get up yet.”
Eventually they got up to leave. Ruby felt tired and sore but was determined to walk the distance. When they arrived at Emma’s, Smithie was already there. As soon as Ruby sat down on the couch, he grabbed Emma and pulled her into the bedroom. Ruby barely noticed the hushed whispers taking place in the next room. She lay down and covered herself with a blanket. A moment later, Emma came back into the living room, looking as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“Ruby, I don’t know how to say this, and I’m so sorry.”
“What? How to say what?”
“I have some bad news for you—Smithie just told me. Dom overdosed at Mean’s last night. He didn’t make it. He’s gone.”
Ruby gasped and struggled to get up. She knocked over her tea. “What do you mean? Emma, please say it’s not true.”
Emma looked at her with pity and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ruby. It’s not nice to tell you when you’re like this, but I didn’t want you to find out on the news.”
Ruby collapsed back on the couch and buried her face in her hands. She was unable to catch her breath. Emma sat down beside her, put her arms around her and just held her, rocking her back and forth as they both cried. Ruby finally lay still in Emma’s arms. She put her head in Emma’s lap, and Emma stroked her hair gently.
When Ruby woke up several hours later, she felt numb, and a flat greyness had settled down on her. Despite Emma’s invitation to stay, she felt an urge to go home, where she could sequester herself, so she took the bus to Wedding.
Alone on the bus, she began sniffling into her sleeve. When she came to Leopoldplatz she got off the bus and went into the church to rest. She sat on a pew at the back and soaked in the beauty of the stained-glass windows and the high, arched ceilings, thinking about how God could be so heartless as to take away so much in this world. It was all too much. She ran out of the church and continued running till she was out of breath. That night she sat up in the kitchen with a pot of tea, writing in her journal. Dead. Gone. Two down, one to go. I am so exposed. My head feels like it’s opening wide. So many thoughts coming in. Dead souls. Where’s Jessie? Please come save me.
Finally, as light strayed in through the window, she lay down on her bed to rest. Her head was filled with a jagged stream of words that gnawed away at her soul. But she couldn’t stop the click click click of her mind. Dom’s face flashed in front of her over and over again. I’m so sorry, Ruby, I just had to go. Nowhere else to land safely in this world. And then there was Werner’s stern countenance. His words seemed to merge with an image of her father shaking his head. I told you so. You have to be protected. You are not safe or capable. This is my world. You follow my rules. Both of them were talking rapid-fire.
Emma came by to visit a day later and walked into the bedroom with a tray laden with teapot and mugs.
Ruby said to her, “I’ve been talking to Dom. He’s apologized for rejecting me and the baby. He’s sorry.”
Emma looked at Ruby quizzically, and poured their tea before she spoke. “Ruby, I’m sorry, but Dom is dead. Nothing you do is going to bring him back. Of course you can talk to him in your dreams, hold him in your thoughts, but beyond that . . .” Her voice quavered. “I think we should get you back to my place where we can all watch over you.”
Ruby was beginning to slowly lock herself up inside her mind. More and more people were prying their way into her head, talking to her. Ruby, come home, Ruby, come home. Don’t go. Eat chocolate after your meals. Always walk with your right foot first when going south. Turn your head to the right to delete a thought. Lie on your left if you want to be close to him. Get up move around clean the house. She became entranced listening to all their voices, searching for some truth in their words. Emma’s voice broke through occasionally from the outside, but her presence was beginning to make Ruby feel paranoid.
“Ruby, help me out here. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing, Emma, just let me be.”
When Emma left, the voices became more insistent, and Ruby found it harder to ignore them. Why were people talking about her? Why were they saying these things to her? When she lay down they all came out of their hiding places, all trying to talk to her at once. She could hear her own voice responding, but she couldn’t understand her own words and therefore didn’t know what she was saying. Her father, Werner, Jessie: everyone was talking at her and it was all negative. She didn’t know how to defend herself or if she even had to.
All her life she had felt like she had done something horribly wrong, though she truly didn’t know what. She thought of the recurring dream of the man lying on her and smothering her. It had plagued her since she entered puberty. What did this mean? Now she cried and cried, for all those years of failure. Her father was telling her that she was mean to leave Werner behind. Her mother was telling her to come home. Jessie told her she was too free. Dom was still whispering in the background: Come get me, Ruby. Some voices were clearer on her left, others on her right. If she wanted to stop hearing certain voices, she just turned the other way. But inevitably there was negativity on the other side, too.
Another day Emma returned to take her to the greengrocer’s. Emma hung on to her arm all the way there. Ruby picked out some apples, oranges and vegetables, and the cashier cast his head to the right as he was ringing up the produce. Ruby looked right, too. She started sorting people depending on whether they were on her left or her right. Her mother was left-handed and left politically, so she was on Ruby’s left. Her father was more conservative and represented the past and family history, so he was on her right. On down the line she went, dividing up family, friends and acquaintances. That way she could tell who was working with whom. There was some kind of conspiracy against her and it was her job to figure it out. But it was too labyrinthine a task.
Ruby almost ran home, leaving Emma trailing behind. She didn’t want to see any more people, didn’t want to keep classifying them. She shook her head ferociously over and over, starting to feel crazy and out of control, then clambered up the stairs, flung the door open and ran to the kitchen. Emma followed her in.
Ruby got out her journal and started scribbling furiously. Her thoughts were broken. Who is on the left? Who is on the right? Left is future. Right is past. Where’s the present? No, I can’t keep my head in the middle, there’s someone there, too. Everyone is against me and I don’t know why. How is it that they can read my mind, but I can’t read theirs? Page after page, she wrote down the thoughts that jackknifed into her head.
“Emma, people are out to get me. Everybody was looking at me outside, like they knew me, like they knew my thoughts.”
“Ruby, you’re just imagining things.”
“That’s the point. Maybe I am imagining things, but I can’t not think about them. I can’t control it much anymore. It helps when I see people one-on-one, though. It forces me out of myself a little when I can talk to someone like you.”
“Ruby, I’ll do whatever I can to help. But maybe you should go to a doctor.”
“Oh Christ, what can they do? Lock me up?”
“Let’s hope not,” said Emma.
There was a knock at the door. Ruby hissed, “It’s Werner!” Emma told Ruby that she better finally talk to him and went to open the door. Werner rushed into the kitchen. He stood eyeing Ruby for a few moments.
Emma picked up her bag and hugged Ruby goodbye. “You’ll be okay,” she said.
Ruby didn’t lift her head and continued to write.
Finally, Werner grabbed her arm and said, “Don’t write that garbage, Ruby. What’s wrong with you? Are you on something?”
Ruby shook him free and got up to wander around the apartment. She couldn’t stop moving. Ruby didn’t sleep that night and by the next day, she was only worse. Gibbering away, always writing, moving around or crying, unable to sleep. Werner called the doctor and then he called Ruby’s parents. He told them that depending on what the doctor said, he planned to take Ruby away for a week, for rest and a change of scenery. Ruby sat listening to the conversation, as Werner did not want her to talk to her parents. She started humming a little song as she squirmed in the chair, unable to be at ease. Werner shushed her. She moved to the bed to lie down but felt as though a snake was slithering around her, tightening its grip with every turn. Over and over the scenario repeated itself until Ruby jumped up and ran down the hall and started beating Werner with her fists. “It’s time to let go. You have to let go!”
“Ruby, I’ll do no such thing. I’m taking you away for a while.”
The next thing she knew they were racing through the night in a taxi. Ruby thought they had crossed over to the East and that Werner was going to trade her for some spy on the Glienicke Bridge. Then came the glare of an office and a man in a white coat pulling down her pants to put a syringe in her ass. Within an hour her brain was on lockdown. They took a taxi home and she stared morosely out the window, her hand in Werner’s. At home she could still feel the lockdown closing in on her like a vise as she sat trembling quietly at the kitchen table.