Gabriel stepped out of a wounded Lincoln with three other humans in tow. He hadn't expected for Simon to come through with this whole weekend. The two had spent most of their lifes desperately short of funds and now his friend, following in the footsteps of F. Scott Fitzgerald had found money that he now wanted to squander on friends and other people that he had paid to be there.
Simon never told Gabriel how he had made his money, but when a phone call was made with such enthusiasm how can you question friendship and good fortune, at least one of them had made it out of the slump and there was nothing wrong in enjoying the spoils of new found wealth. Acting foolish was something they had always done and eventually it had helped them to hit payola. The city of built out of Trump and burning money was a little Vegas with more ill repute. Each back alley was filled with more business transactions. A hotel room was the NYSE for a multitude of tastes, pleasure and pain, if there was a difference as Simon said. Not to far away from this gambling delight lived Gabriel, the best friend and the small renter from an apartment just in Croton Falls, close to a nice Indian restaurant that he would eat at on Sunday, the only time he could afford the Sunday lunch.
The Limo had arrived and he had spent thirty minutes passing for it to arrive. It was one of the new models and there was a small scratch on the door, as if someone had dug several keys into it as they were going to pick up some valeted cars and this hulk was blocking the exit. Once inside Gabriel was greeted by three women. One of them handed him a glass of Champagne, on cue. It was all too well rehearsed and Gabriel reached in his pocket for his medication but realized in his fluster he had forgotten it. Draining the Champagne he felt uncomfortable as the script indicated that the two women needed to sit next to him. They chatted him up, a glaze in their eyes, and the third Young woman on the other side, soon slid down the leather as the car was safely on the thruway and opened a silver box with the powder that everyone knew was white. He was offered a bump off of her finger nail and he did not refuse. She smiled at him, and Gabriel could feel a bitter baking chocolate taste on the tip of his tougne when she snaked back to the other side of the ride. He finally had the twenty minute adrenal secretion to ask them their names:
Alena
Alena & Alena.
Alena, in the black cocktail dress, was Simon's girlfriend. She told Gabriel to enjoy the ride and that Simon couldn't make the ride because he was preparing everything at the hotel. "Which hotel?" Gabriel asked. She smiled, "Simon's," and then sealed her lips for the duration of the ride. The girls were pressed upon from Alena to ask Gabriel questions about his life, about his love of Jai Alai, and the trips he had taken around the world before he hit financial rock bottom and had exhausted the insurance money he had collected from various incidents and tragedies.
The white Limo, spat Gabriel and the Alena's at the door. The two embraced him and hurried inside. Simon met Alena with a kiss and then looked at Gabriel, he smiled and then firmly embraced him. The showering of compliments came from every angle of the building. It was a massive black obelisk type building with minimalist furniture. The Trump plaza and Caesars looked rather gaudy in comparison with this hotel and all of the employees in Saris and he noticed that almost every employee aside from the security were women. Each one of their name tags read Alena. Gabriel whispered into the ear of his friend, "What is the Alena thing all about?" Simon shrugged as he ushered him along and then announced before they stepped inside an elevator, "Everything is a Garden maze."
The elevator turned pitch black and it rose to the top floor of the hotel, Simon's new residence. When they all walked in the Champagne was chilling in a bucket and of course on the table were assortments of party enhancers, expensive appetizers, and then a strange suitcase that was stacked as if it could hold one thousand greeting cards.
Simon ushered for him to take a seat, and Gabriel felt a slight envy.
"Have you ever heard of the Indian province of Kerala?" Simon asked.
Gabriel shook his head.
"Well, I spent some time there, they have medicines and massages. I had these treatments everyday and it completely changed my perspective on everything. For so long you and I have been ambling fighting to have control and yet we have no control, have some Champagne," He ushered for Gabriel to pick up his flute and nearly poured to the brim.
" I know this all seems a little out of the ordinary, but to be honest I was heartbroken to see that you are not really doing anything to help yourself my friend, that is why I called you hear tonight, so hard to find you, let us relax before we do anything tonight."
With that Simon stood and extended his hand that was smooth to the touch and matched the tan neckline which Gabriel imagined went all the way down to his paunch. They walked together back to the elevator and went down two levels to what appeared to be a Spa with no names. Inside women all wearing the same name tags as downstairs handed the men two clothes to wrap around their bodies. Gabriel was led into a separate room and led to a table. It was a hard wooden table but felt good on his back. In silence and with pinched smiled a small Golden bowl with a small anteater's spout was placed just above his forehead. Droplets of hot oil began to pour on his head and the heat began to soak away the lines that had grown with each passing year of his life.
Gabriel drifted away and felt conundrums building up in his thoughts as simultaneously as he was relaxing he kept picturing a man inside his mind. They were in a room and there were candles. It seemed peaceful, a place where he once felt happy and refreshed but above that healthy. However a heavy hand came with the long haired man. He would scream at Gabriel, he would tell him to come into his final resting pose. The room would fill with headless people and no matter what Gabriel could never keep up with the rest of the group. "Move at your own pace except for you Gabriel."
A soft voice from one of the Alenas told him that a soft cloth would be placed over his eyes to remove the oil and then he would receive a massage from two masseurs, each specializing on a different part of his body. They ran taut fingers, borrowing into the muscle, a slight sting then intoxicating relaxation. He wondered where Simon had gone? Then forgot when he felt a cramp in his thigh. Cramp to pain. Pain to push. Push to poke. Poke to tear.
His skin tore, bits of sick collected at the back of his teeth, vomiting from the pain as the pale epidermis covering his thighs tore and he saw thick malbec blood stream into a viscous coat and fingers began to press their way into his view. In shock the pain seemed as distant as reaching Nirvana and he watched as the hands split and tore at the fascia as heads began to appear. The hair on his right legs was a dark brown and that of a mans. On his left leg the hair was cut short and felt softer as it revealed the head of a young woman. The two began to free themselves from the viscera and look at him with indifference. They were speaking to each other in a language that only seemed barely audible. Fingers pointing at Gabriel as they didn't bother to towel off his blood. None of the masseurs came back in and he lost his ability to speak. Sporadically they would turn their heads towards him and then away. He tried to cry when the walked close to him. They produced bags. One had a blue powder in it and the other held a ball of clay. The man molded the clay into a cube like mass and the woman poured the powder over it, a thick indigo color. The put it in front of Gabriel's face as he coughed when the powder hit the side of his cheek. The man looked into his eyes and mumbled through the thick clouds of acrid smoke. "Your name is Berkeley Brick Lane Bypass Boğaz, do you understand?" Out of fear the nameless legless person on the table nodded as the two began to dance around him and he watched as his belly expanded and the two walked out of the room and shut the door.
The nameless legless person pulled himself off the table and dragged his tattered appendages down the hall were he hoped Simon would come to his rescue. Simon was standing outside the door laughing with the Woman and the Man, "No I assure you, I have it all from here, he just needs a good shower and he won't pose a problem," He said this whilst making direct eye contact with the nameless legless man that had a name that was fading from all of our memories. Simon picked up Berkeley and dragged him into an onyx room and he looked above to find a shower head the size of the entire room. "Have you ever had a steam bath with lemongrass and Artesian water?" Berkeley shook his head. The water and the steam began to pour in. "Your friends certainly are displeased with you, I do not like the name they gave you, and although I am just as begrudged by you I am not a fan of the name they gave you," He turned in deep consternation as the water poured all around him and the new nameless legless man began to see his legs take shape again. He watched as pinks, greys, and reds began to spindle together and his skin began to form at the points of exit. Simon was moving all around the shower clasping two Champagne bottles as he continued on his thought process,
"My name is Simon, you should have a name that starts with an S," He continued, "Yes, I know, perhaps Sour, that would be fitting don't you think?"
He leaned into the newly named Sour and brought his face up against the befuddled and confused. Sour began to cry and nodded his head, beyond acceptance of the paranormal, the pain was fading away and he knew how much this was supposed to hurt but he felt nothing at all. Simon continued to dance as two Alenas walked into the room and helped Sour to his feet. They led him down a long hall to a room with no windows. It was obviously late and he saw a pair of jeans neatly folded and a sweater. He put them on and the door opened to reveal another Alena. She ushered him out and onto an elevator.
At the bottom they were in the lobby again and she handed him a small bag with a tiny plant inside it. She showed him outside to the long limo. "Have a nice evening sir, and remember I made those scratches on the door,"
The car peeled away and Sour passed out.
When he arrived home he could see the dawn breaking. Sour got out of the car and it peeled out back onto the road and he was left to his own devices. He walked up to his door. A beautiful envelope was pasted to the door. He opened it to the smell of Lavender oil that had been sprinkled on the unread note. As he unfolded it, it read :
BOOM.
Sour did not know which Idea was better, to run or to remain where he was.
