Wild Woman and the Piano Player
In a dream, she demanded he go fetch those little affections hidden after her mother’s death: five yards of black lace, three wigs, and the six-foot lipstick palm tree left to die in their old apartment.
He was a good for nothing, nobody piano playing fascist pursuing cheap adventures in cabarets. With nothing to fear, she dragged him into her song, an accomplice to burning vultures, “ The Most Beautiful Drowned Man In the World.” It was difficult to find gigs playing ghost music so he became psychic assistant to a private investigator.
They moved to Bangkok, where no one hated them, and continued entertaining the dead. She took up farming in her strapless black gowns and occasionally landed work at the Floating Cabaret in the Patong Paradise district. Juan the one-eyed gaucho brought her Cinnamon Myrtle every Wednesday.
Esteban showed up dead on Carthage beach, bones weighty from the water, taller, much taller than lipstick palm trees. Nikkita moved to Barcelona and dated a bi-sexual rock star. Cast in an Alejandro Amenábar film, she won an Oscar and retired to work at a Peruvian nunnery.
A Tunisian Prince purchased the wigs, part of her memorabilia, on Ebay. He was having a torrid love affair with an Egyptian transvestite who broke his thrown, tied him to a her kitchen chair, and cut his whiskers a few months after he paid for her sex reassignment in Iran.