That person for me was Jules.
I’m standing with the door open, ushering in Zombie in her Desert Storm blood bra, Mental Jiant the fucking Sesame Street Flasher, like she’s gonna show me the golden “AN” or something. And Brooklyn—damn. Nothing on. A white pair of panties and electrical tape. I’m just watching her go in, from the back, nothing but skin. And Ashley jumps off the counter for these three, cause these are her improv friends. And she’s tweaking Brooklyn’s nipples and I see Mental Jiant—from the back this time—as she opens her coat to Ashley and the rest of the room, then closes it. Zombie smears some blood on Ashley’s neck. And Ashley bites Zombie’s neck, hard, and Zombie winces. (“Fuck, bitch!”)
Then MJ’s looking around, and Brooklyn looks back, and Ashley and Zombie are talking but I see Ash see her first. Someone behind me. And Brooklyn slaps her naked leg and says, “Come on, Jules!”
Jules: where to begin. I guess I’ll start with what she was wearing, even though that is the least important thing I could tell you about her.
She was dressed as the devil. She was dressed as the fucking devil. And not like a joke devil, not like those red plastic horns and equally cheesy pitchfork. She has dark skin, and she’s wearing red. Her shorts are twisted onto her, twisted up her crotch, twisted on her legs. Her top is done the same way, like it was dyed in lamb’s blood, dripped it, she did some sort of ritual and this is what she looked like when she was done. She has a cape—clear plastic, thick plastic—and high boots (also red) and in that same deep red she’s holding an umbrella. And then around her neck was a string. And on the string were three things: a whistle, a rubber ducky, and a razor blade.
“You know it isn’t raining, right?”
“It keeps the grief away.”
“It’s raining grief?”
“From the sky.”
“I like your—“
“Don’t touch it.”
“Why?”
She has my finger in her hand. She shakes it away, then blows in her hand like it had dust in it—the end of a magic trick. “Don’t touch it..because I said so. And because it’s mine.”
The razorblade is right on her skin. If she hugged you, it’d cut her.
Mental Jiant is talking to her friend. “Don’t touch it..because it has cocaine all over it.”
I look at the razorblade.
“It doesn’t have cocaine,” Jules says.
“But,” MJ screams, “It’s going to!!”
Then Jules is going past me, and she never takes her eyes off me, and she says—to MJ but while looking at me—“It’ll have your blood on it before the night is through. And maybe little bits of your mind. But I never, ever use this razorblade for coke. I have other razorblades for that. Is this the house?” Jules is looking around. She sees the ceiling. She sees the floor. She sees the other people, but she’s at a different speed. It’s like she’s thinking faster, or with alpha waves or something, and she’s in a trance, and in her dimension everything runs at double speed..so everything around her runs twice as slow. So she can get into the spaces between, and she can see Hong Yang Gao for twice as long as he’s seen her, even though in clock time it’s been the same amount for both of them. And she’s going into the room like this, and I’m standing at the door, and it’s like I can already hear our final conversation and see our final scene. I know we will be together. I know that I’m the one who will like her more. And I know that, when we separate, she will be the one to leave me, because I would never leave her.
And yet she seems small, like she would break, like she’s a skeleton and between us only one has flesh. Like she just stepped onto this planet, earlier tonight, and this is her first party, and her first night sleep, and her first time walking in a body. Like she’s never been to school, never worked, never been ruined by any of that. Maybe never loved—maybe never ruined by that either.
She goes into Ashley’s house, and it’s Zombie and MJ and Brooklyn..and then it’s Jules. It’s Jules. And it’s everyone else. She doesn’t stand by them, she goes around the room. She puts her hands on Hong Yang Gao, on his neck, and blesses him. I don’t know how else to say it! She blesses him with her touch! I don’t know if she kisses him or straightens his shirt or brushes his cheek. I don’t think she did any of those things, I think she just touched his neck. And in her eyes..blessing. Then she leaves him, and you can see Hong lighten. He doesn’t even smile. He just lightens. And Jules sits on the couch, on its arm, next to Karen and she starts talking to her. This stupid little girl from work, this shitty tester whose mouth is always open and talks like she’s deaf. Jules talks to her, and she takes Karen’s drink and she drinks from it. And she hands it back. And Karen is happy, because Jules is listening to her. She’s really listening. She’s really being listened to. This black devil with a razorblade necklace and who’s smiling like Karen is the greatest teacher in the world, like Karen is the wise one, like Karen holds the most precious, the most rare, and the wildest secret in the world. And Jules is there to catch it. If it falls out. To scoop it from the floor and put it back into Karen’s heart. To close the door and stand guard, with all her devil power, to keep it safe. To warm it. To see it with her eyes. To blow it like a spark with devil breath. And make it glow.
That’s Jules. That’s the best way I know to describe her. I know it’s a bit operatic but that’s the way she was. I don’t think I ever knew her a day without her singing, and I don’t know how to talk about her without doing the same.
But there’s a hand on my shoulder, and there’s breath in my ear. And Chad’s got his hands on my waist—because Chad likes me, too—and I bring him into Ashley’s house. I present the room. And Chad sees Jules, and he knows without any discussion.
“What the fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“No,” he says, and he grips my face in his hands and looks into my eyes like I’ve only ever been looked in the eye by Chad. And it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. And he says. “No.” And he means Jules. “No.” And he means me. “What the fuck.”