A Faraway Fantasy

part 3

She obeyed without a word. The ceiling burst to life, but reaching for the lights control panel above the bed, Juliet dialed the blinding white to a soft cream. She threw her coat and hat near the foot of the bed and slid next to Mark. Surrounded by her orange hair, her face swam in a fiery lake.

Her brow creased with sadness. “Is this the final favor you wanted?”

Mark smiled. “Remember that daughter I told you about. Must be about your age. That’s why I can never...”

He reached for her face with his hand, and she let him caress her freckles. He’d imagined them bumpy, but they were a part of her skin—soft.

“Is it why you want me to have emotions?”

“What are you talking about?”

Her frown deepened. “It’s emotions I lack, not intelligence. This last thing of yours—it’s linked to your daughter, isn’t it?”

Mark grinned and nodded. “After you’re…done with me, please tell her that I killed myself.”

“Why?”

“Will you do it?”

“No.”

He frowned. “Please.”

“No.”

“You said you liked me. Do you want me to beg? I can beg.”

She closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were moist and glistening. “I won’t lie.”

“Not even this once?”

“I’m sorry.” Mark could see that she was. It was unfair of him to ask her to clean up his mess, but then she was about to assassinate him.

Her hand seized Mark’s and she pressed it against her cheek. Her flesh there was warm and downy. Mark closed his eyes and was transported to his latest trip to Earth. He’d visited a farm and found the farmer’s boy playing with a yellow, soft animal. The boy had told Mark the creature was a baby chicken. He opened his eyes and saw Juliet’s staring at him. She let go of his hand and put hers on his face, outlining his flat nose, the creases of his wrinkled skin, plunging her fingers in his bristly, graying beard.

“Why do you want to lie to her?”

“I fucked up her life.”

“Why didn’t you go see her six hours ago?”

Even if he’d wanted to, a trip to Earth took four days. Mark didn’t tell Juliet that. He thought back to all his visits to Earth, all the one-way stares, all the almosts. Only bitter memories. He clenched his teeth. “She hates my guts.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I fucked up her life.”

She smiled and Mark was compelled to return the gesture.

“How did you do that?”

“I drank and wrote and drank and wrote. I wish I could say I neglected her. It was worse.”

“Why do you want her to believe that you killed yourself?”

“So she hates me more for taking the coward’s way out. She’s used to despising me. Figure it’s easier if she doesn’t have to feel sorry about my death.”

Mark squinted to clear his misty sight. Juliet had raised her head away from the pillow. Her neck muscles were tensed. It was evident she didn’t want to Ms. a single detail.

“Once I die, she’ll start regretting never confronting me, never giving me a chance to prove to her how wrong she was about me. She wasn’t. I’ve always been a selfish piece of shit.”