Amelia Beamer - The Loving Dead

T he sun had set by the time Kate left the belly dance class. Jamie, the instructor, had stayed late showing Kate a move called the sprinkler, where you swing your hips in a smooth figure eight, then four sharp ticks back to center. It looked like a lawn sprinkler when Jamie did it. Kate, watching herself in the mirror, thought that her attempts looked more like a dog with a hose. But after a few minutes, after all of the other girls had left, she got it.

They walked out together from the converted warehouse. This part of Berkeley was mostly artist studios.

See ya next week, Jamie called. She turned, away from the streetlight.

See ya, Kate called. Thanks again. Despite her best intentions, she didnt attend every week. She walked towards her car, pleasantly tired. The party Michael was throwing would be in full swing soon, but she would have a few minutes of quiet between now and then.

Hey, a womans voice called. It sounded like Jamie. Kate looked back. Some guy had pushed Jamie up against a van. His face was dangerously close to Jamies. She was pushing him away. Fuck you, she shouted. She kicked at him. Hey, anyone, help?

Kate felt a rush of panic. She dropped her finger cymbals, which made a clatter on the sidewalk like a tiny, demented marching band. She ran towards Jamie, her shoulder bag bouncing against her thigh, wishing she had a weapon. There was the little Swiss Army knife on her keychain. As if that would scare anyone.

Kate found her voice. Hey! Jamie?

Jamie turned to look at Kate. So did the guy. It was enough of a distraction for Jamie to wiggle away from him. Kate, at full speed, ran into the guy anyway. He fell. The back of his head made a wet crack on the curb. Kate stumbled, finding her balance against the van.

You OK? She turned to Jamie. They both moved away from the guy.

Shit, honey. Jamie spat to the side, then wiped her mouth on her bare arm. She let out a long breath. Fucking drunk, thinking with his dick and leading with his chin, she said. Yeah, Im all right. She didnt sound all right. She spat again.

What happened? Kate asked, brushing hair behind her ears. I heard you call out. He attack you?

Something like that, Jamie said. You just dont expect that, not in Berkeley. Panhandling, maybe, but not this. He just came up on me before I knew what was happening. I was looking in my purse, for my keys, you know? And before I even hardly see him hes pushing me up against my van and trying to stick his tongue down my throat.

Both women looked down at the sidewalk. The guys eyes were closed. He was in a bad way: obviously homeless, judging by the layers of clothing he wore against the still-warm summer night. Never mind the smell. His hair looked dirty in the yellow light from the street lamp, and his face was smudged. A liquid seeped from near his groin. It bubbled on the sidewalk. Malt liquor.

Man. Kate nudged the guys leg with her foot. He didnt move. Um, she said. He could be bleeding to death from a head injury. Hey, she called softly. You all right, man? Anybody in there? Kate knelt. If he died, itd be her fault.

Dont touch him, honey. Youll wake him up. Fucking drunk, Jamie said. Thinking he could rumble me for a few bucks so he can go get a Chore Boy and a rock.

Kate didnt question Jamies interpretation. It had looked to Kate like the guy had been trying to rape Jamie. Um, Kate said. Dont you think we should call the cops or something? Report that he attacked you? Get him help? She didnt like police any more than the next twentysomething, but it felt wrong to just leave the guy. He didnt seem to be bleeding, though she couldnt tell in the low light, and she didnt want to touch him. She thought of spending all night trying to explain to the so-called peace officers what had happened, again and again, under migraine-inducing fluorescent lights. Who would she call to bail her out if they put her in jail? Michael would be drunk already.

Jamie gave Kate a look. Shed thought the same things, about cops and trouble.

The guy stirred, letting out a low moan. So he wasnt dead. That was a relief. Kate backed away from him. She glanced around. The street was dead. No one had seen what theyd done.

Youre right, Kate said. Lets just go. My housemates throwing this party tonight, she found herself saying. Therell be people, and food, and well be safe. The idea of being indoors, surrounded by doors that locked and people she mostly knew and trusted, sounded very appealing.

Jamie shook her head. I need a cigarette, she said. She pulled a pack from her purse, and lit one. She smoked Kools, which Kate found odd. Belly dancers were supposed to smoke American Spirits, or roll their own. Jamie lit it, then fished a set of keys from her purse. The metal gleamed in the low light.

I dont want you going off alone. Not after this. Just come for a little while, check it out, Kate said. She didnt normally invite people over to Michaels parties, but she didnt normally attack dudes on the street, either. Come on, lets go.

All right, Jamie said. Should I follow you, or? She used two fingers from the hand that was holding the cigarette to smooth a strand of her long hair.

Sure, Kate said. She looked around again. It was unnatural, how quiet the street was. I just want to go before someone else happens along. My house is up in the hills, and its easy to get lost, so yeah, you should follow me. Im just down the block, Ill go get my car.

And leave me alone here? Jamie glanced around the street. The end of her cigarette glowed.

Well, how about you drive me to my car Kate said. She saw movement. The guy was sitting up, bracing himself against the curb. His mouth was bleeding. He blinked, touched the pocket that now held the shards of his beer bottle. He moaned in dismay.

Come on. Im getting spooked, Kate said. Hes going to be able to describe us. Pick us out of a lineup, she whispered. She was ready to run; ready to shove Jamie into a car if that was what it would take. She took Jamies hand, pulling her to the other side of the van, so the guy couldnt see them.

Jamie unlocked her door, moving fast. You get in on my side. Her tone had changed: she sounded scared. She was starting to get it.

Kate obeyed. She barely knew Jamie, had been going to Jamies class off and on for a year or so. They hadnt spoken outside of that context before tonight.

The guy struggled to his feet. Kate saw him through the window. She covered her mouth with her hand. Jamie started the engine. The guy touched his jaw, then put his hand to the side window. The van lurched forward. The guy followed, but they soon lost him. His handprint remained.