Tableaux (a revision)

"So," said the little girl, "so this is how it ends up."
"You're disappointed?" asked the young woman, "you expected more?"
"I expected more than you just exploiting my fears and weaknesses."
"You have a better idea? It's easy to criticize, but you offer me no alternatives."
"I have an idea," said the child, "I have hundreds of ideas."
"Name one."
"Well . . . I've forgotten them just now." The little girl wrinkled her brow. "You never nurtured them so I lost them, somewhere."
"Oh, don't blame me for your irresponsibility." The woman's face was tight. "Where did you put them? How could you lose something so important?"
"Don't be cross; I know where they are. I remember now."
"Well?"
"I put them somewhere in the void that divides us. I gave them to someone there. She said she'd pass them on to you."
"She didn't give me anything but poor choices and insecurity. Why would you do such a foolish thing?"
The little girl stared sullen at her shoes while the woman looked on. "I didn't have any choice," she said, "She took them and made fun; she said she had no need for silly childish things, and she hid them away."
"Where did she go?"
"She's where she's always been – pining after some boy."
"You used to do that too, you know."
"Yeah, but it wasn't the same," said the little girl. "I was just curious. She obsesses. She thinks the unattainable will save her from herself . . . or from you, maybe."
"She's foolish and insolent," said the woman. "She longs for something she doesn't understand. She looks outside herself for something that can only be found inside."
"I feel sorry for her," said the child.
"You have too much empathy. She's ruining my life and your dreams. I'm going to find her."
"Wait. Please don't leave me here alone. I'm scared."
"You're so good at imagining nightmares. Why don't you imagine yourself someplace safe and warm? I have to go."
"Please?"
"Oh, grow up."

The young woman found the teenager bony and agitated on a beach, hugging her knees against the sea breeze and staring blankly at the expansive horizon. She sat down beside her. "I've been looking for you."
The teenager looked up suddenly. "It's you!"
"You have something that belongs to me. I need it back now."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The woman glared. "You do know. You stole it from a child and then god knows what you did with it, but you'd better remember because I need it."
The teenager looked away, expressionless. Slowly, she glanced back and crinkled her eyes. She studied the woman's face. "Are you in love?"
"What the fuck? Are you even listening to me?"
"Are you?"
"I don't need anyone but myself."
"Yeah, but are you in love?"
"No," snapped the woman, glancing down at the girls knees, "have you been cutting yourself?"
"Leave me alone! I can't believe you're not in love."
"You're disappointed too? Look, there's more to life than love." She quickly clamped her mouth shut, but it was too late. The words had escaped.
"Like WHAT?" There was venom in the adolescent's voice.
"I mean I was in love, but now I’m happy to be alone."
"You were in love?" The girl's eyes perked up.
"Yeah, for a while. It didn't work out. We weren't good for each other."
"Did you . . . you know?"
"Of course."
"What was it like?"
"Good. It was good." The woman sighed. "Listen, I need you to remember."
"When?" asked the teenager.
"When what?"
"When did you first . . . you know?"
"In college. Listen, I shouldn't even be telling you this."
"College?! That's like, ugh. Was it worth the, you know, the wait?"
"What wait?"
"Do I know him?"
"No."
"Oh . . . " The teenager frowned.
"Can you just focus? What did you do with my . . ."
"Leave me alone. I don't know what you're doing here anyway. You certainly aren't helping."
"I'm not here to help you," said the woman, "I'm here to get something from you. Then you can go back to brooding or pining or slicing up your legs or whatever."
"I hate you," mumbled the teenager, rubbing her nose.
"What?"
"I said I HATE YOU!" She jumped up and ran toward the sea, screaming.
"Jesus Christ," said the woman, rising to follow her.
By the time she reached the water the girl was up to her knees, fully clothed, with tears streaming down her face. "How old are you?" she yelled through her tears.
"Twenty-five," said the woman, wading into the water. "I'm in grad school. I'm going to be an artist."
"Like I care." The teenager rolled her eyes and sniffed.
"You have something that I need."
"You're single?" demanded the girl.
"Yes. You know, there are worse fates for a woman my age."
"Like what?"
"Being depressed, or ill, or out of ideas. Losing inspiration . . ." She stared at the girl.
"Maybe you lost your inspiration because you don't have LOVE." She shouted the word 'Love,' spitting it like a poison into the woman's face.
"Why are you so fucking angry?"
"I DON'T KNOW!" she screamed, wading further into the water.
"You'll drown out there, or catch pneumonia. Come on, let's go someplace warm." She reached out a hand.
"Ha! You'd be happy if I died! I can tell!"
"That's absurd," the young woman insisted, though she knew it was probably true. She grabbed for the girl's hand.
"Only once?" she shouted, pulling her hand away and stepping backwards over the crashing waves.
"Only once what?"
"You were only in love once?"
"Uh, yeah, maybe twice. I'm not really sure."
"You don't KNOW?" The water was icy, and the girl was starting to shiver.
"Fuck," the young woman thought to herself, "so this is how it ends." Her teeth chattered. "No," she shouted, "I don't know. Once for sure. But it wasn't good for either of us, so it ended."
"God!" screamed the teenager, "you are SO LAME! You don't know anything! Why are you even here? Why don't you just leave me alone? You're a STUPID BITCH and I HATE YOU and YOU'RE UGLY and I Don't FUCKING have what you're looking for!"
"Fine." The young woman turned and headed back to the beach cold and annoyed. When she reached the shore she looked back toward the water.
The girl stood holding her fists clenched over her head, screaming the Gloria Patria through choking sobs: "GLORY BE TO THE FATHER, AND TO THE SON, AND TO THE HOLY SPIRIT, AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING, IS NOW, AND EVER SHALL BE, WORLD WITHOUT END, AMEN"
At the sight of this, the young woman sat down on the ground and wept. Then she closed her eyes and sat silent. After a time, she sensed a presence. She looked up to see the little girl standing beside her, watching the water.
"Hey," said the woman, wiping her face with a sandy sleeve.
"Is she ok?" asked the child, pointing toward the sea. The teenager sat in the water up to her neck, floating her arms in front of her.
"I don't know. I guess so."
"She didn't have them, did she?"
"I guess not. She wasn't very eager to help."
"Will you play with me now?"
"I can't just leave her out here."
"Her will to live is stronger than her will to die," said the little girl, holding out her hand.
The young woman sighed and took the child's hand, standing up. "She wants to know someone cares."
"No," said the child, "she just wants space to be alone and work things out. You should understand that."
"How did you get so smart?" asked the woman as they walked toward the cabin holding hands.
"How did you get so dumb?" asked the little girl, laughing.
"Ha! Not funny!" and she reached to tickle the girl who screamed and ran ahead. The woman ran to catch up, yelling, "I'm gonna get you! I'm gonna get you!"

In the cabin, the woman changed into dry clothes and lit a fire. She prepared some sandwiches and then the two sat down and began telling stories. They played intricate games of make-believe long into the evening, acting out adventures and inventing strange creatures. Much later, after both had fallen asleep on blankets before the fireplace, a lone figure watched through foggy windows and tried to understand.