If You Leave, Must I Come, Too?

Katerina opened the faded curtain over the desk to see Sherry getting out of a taxi.

Her heart jumped, and not exactly from the thrill of her finally returning, more out of a sense of dread.

Katerina got out from behind the desk and opened the screen door. The taxi pulled away, leaving Sherry standing in the rain, facing the house. 

The rain had soaked her, and the rivulets streaming around her glasses looked like her face was melting.

Sherry wore a white linen dress with a faded blue flower pattern. Katerina remembered buying for her at the Citywide Garage Sale in Austin. 

Sherry clutched her handbag, another flea market grab, close to her chest. Mud covered her legs from the hem of her dress to her feet. The wind blew in the door and knocked a wine glass off the dresser directly behind Katerina, shattering on the hardwood floor. She started, moving uneasily to the porch.

 “Honey, don’t just stand there.”

Sherry took a hesitant step toward her, feet sinking into the mud of the front yard.

“The path is right beside you. Why don’t you walk on that?”

Like a zombie, Sherry moved onto the walk and stepped to the porch, holding her emotionless gaze on Katerina every step of the way. As she climbed the steps, she lowered her head, but without taking her eyes off Katerina.

She halted on the top step. Katerina sighed, stretching her shoulders.

“Look, I don’t care where you’ve been or why. Just get in out of the goddamn rain.”

Katerina held the door for her.

As Sherry crossed the threshold, she mumbled, as if to herself, “Look at my pretty legs.”

Katerina looked down at her feet.

“Take your shoes off. You are going to get mud on the floor.”

Then, remembering the wine glass, “Naw, leave ‘em on. I just broke something.”

Grabbing the towel hanging from the front door, Katerina knelt in front of Sherry. Slowly, she started to wipe the mud off her legs. Lord knows what puddles she jumped in, she thought. She may have tried to jump into a bayou or rolled around in the park, crazy stuff she was known for, but this was ridiculous and scaring her.

Katerina felt Sherry’s clothes drop onto her back. She looked up to see her handing her the purse, so Katerina placed it on the dresser.

Katerina picked up the wet, muddied rag that had once been a dress and tossed it into a corner of the bedroom.

She stood to brush Sherry’s hair with her fingers. Time for the car crash, Katerina thought as Sherry moved her hands to her neck and pulled herself up to her waist. She buried her face into Katerina’s shoulder, sobbing.

Later, Katerina let Sherry do what she wanted, dutifully submitting to everything she requested. While Sherry remained a girl with the attitude and the awkward procedures of a bad boyfriend, at least the scarves were soft.

The next morning, while Sherry remained asleep, Katerina called Sherry’s father to let him know she was there. He arrived in the mid-afternoon and drove her daughter back to Austin. The next day Sherry was admitted to a mental care facility.

Before Katerina dressed for work, she lit a cigarette and stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom. She held the cigarette out, while raising her arm. Pointing the light at her armpit, she debated stubbing it out on her flesh.

Would she feel, or not?

It fucking hurt.

After getting dressed, she picked up the muddied high heels and placed them in a paper sack. While on the way to work at the university, she dropped them off at a shoe repair shop. 

They’re hers now.

Mike Lee is a reporter and writer for a trade union. His work appears in or is forthcoming in Loser, Literary Garage, Cult Lit, The Opiate, BULL, Mythic Picnic, among others.