Eyes Wide Shut

David and Eliza Kendrick use to be something out of a cliché storybook. They use to drink red wine and dance to no music at all when they thought no one was watching, but those moments never happened anymore, and when they did it was usually acted.

“I hate these things.” Samuel mumbled as he fixed his thin black tie. The screams and photographers had somehow been reduced to a quiet hum.

“Come on, Samuel, It’s been a while hasn’t it?” Eliza turned on her most comforting voice and grabbed for David’s hand as the limo came to a halt.

“You haven’t been sober for one of these in three years, Samuel.” I whispered.

“It’s funny how you think things have changed.” He smirked. “Ready?” He held out his hand for me.
The door opened, and David began the evening with his million dollar smile.

“It’s rumored that the entire Kendrick clan has joined us this evening for the Los Angeles premiere of David Kendrick’s ‘Black Light Room’

“Come on baby-sister,” Samuel smiled. “We’ve got a show to put on.” He stepped out of the limo and put out his hand.

“We’ve got Samuel, now is that a date or- signature red bottom shoes; it seems that the whole family has joined us tonight.” The gossiping newscaster broke into a smile. “And who may I ask, are you wearing this evening Blair? Isn’t that a nice little white number?”

“Oscar de la Renta,” I smiled. I looped my arm into Samuel’s as we posed for a picture.

“Look! It’s Samuel and Blair Kendrick!” Another eager reporter shouted. “Samuel! Blair! A moment?!” Samuel gently pulled us from the photo and moved toward her.

“Elise, it’s nice to see you again.” Samuel smiled.

“Handsome as always, Samuel, but I have to ask the question everyone wants answered.” She smiled her overly bleached smile.

“Well then, we’ve got to give the people what they want, don’t we?” His brown eyes flickered towards me.

“Why haven’t we seen you since Portugal? There was a flicker of you in L.A., but you have gone a little M.I.A.” She pushed the microphone towards him.

“Missing my shenanigans?” He teased. “It seems as though my beautiful baby sister is better than I thought at keeping me out of trouble, but I’m sure I’ll come out to play soon enough.” He winked.

“And what about you, Blair? In a dress like that, you’ve got to be seeing someone.” I had checked out of the conversation. I had so obviously checked out that it was near embarrassing and Samuel felt it.

“No,” Was all I could manage.

“Well, that’s just because I haven’t found anyone good enough for her yet,” He laughed half nervously.
“And what about you, Samuel?” Elise piped as he began to withdraw us from the conversation.

“You know how coy I am!” he joked. “Besides, all these questions will make me miss the movie!” He pulled us away from Elise before she could realize we were leaving.

“Now, what were you saying about my drinking?” He whispered.

Movie premieres always went the same. Samuel and I nearly always carried each other, dependent on his condition. My father’s movies were always fantastic. They always broke the box office, and they were always signature for his craft. His success was never a great surprise to us. He was destined to be remembered as one of the greats, my mother his seemingly supportive Starlet wife, my brother a beautiful outspoken playboy, but I could never figure out how they would remember me. Most times I felt as if I were going to fall right out of my skin, or evaporate into nothing, because it’s in the most crowded rooms where you feel smallest of all.

I had lost Samuel to L.A. and both my parents to Napa Valley. We left in separate vehicles. My parents believed that Samuel and I were to be on a plane to Southern California, but only I would catch that midnight flight. Samuel would stop the car fifteen minutes into our ride to take his chances as a seedy night club where he would so obviously be treated as a king.

“I think you can handle yourself for a night or two, Blair. I’m dying out there.” He was pleading.
“Go.” I nodded.

“Thank you!” He hugged me and I watched as his face lit up, the car coming to a stop.

“Go.” I mumbled to myself, leaning back on the headrest and shutting my eyes.

My sunglasses slipped off of the bridge of my nose, a cup of coffee in one hand and a shameful excuse for a message, from Samuel in my ear. The sand felt good beneath my toes, and the sea had a lot to say, but it was too early for eager children or tired sunbathers to break the peace of the morning. The sweet melody of a guitar calmed me from the thoughts of my sleepless night. It had become impossible to shut my eyes.

“Henry.” I caught myself smiling as I walked toward his sitting figure. Mouse was silent by his side, while beads of water clung to his bare skin and anchored themselves to the tips of his damp hair. He removed the guitar from the lap of his damp red board shorts.

“Blair.” He swallowed, his Adams apple becoming prominent as he searched for some way to explain himself. “I’m not supposed to-” He pointed weakly towards the water, his arms defined and tense. “Did I scare you?” Water held to his collar bone, as his board shorts clung to his hip.

“No.” I shook my head and touched his shoulder gently. “Play.”

He continued his effortless plucking of strings, as if he could see every note. He hummed softly, and I sipped my iced coffee, turning the crinkled pages of ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’. The music stopped and I looked up at him.

“Why did you stop?” I peeked through my sunglasses.

“What are you reading?” He grinned.

“How did you know?” The strangest thing about him was that he never spoke as if he were blind.

“You said once that you liked it, and the last time we spoke and you got quiet, we were reading. Lucky guess,” He shrugged.

“A Streetcar Named Desire.” I nodded.

“What’s it about?” He tuned two large strings, but kept looking in my direction.

“Well, it’s sort of about this lady named Blanch, her sister Stella, and Stella’s husband Stanley, and then- I mean really it’s about a women and the consequences she has to face in a male dominated society set in the early 1950’s and-” I stopped my anxious sputtering of words. “I’m sorry. You don’t really care, you were just being polite.” My cheeks tinted themselves red.

“No, I like the sound of your voice.” He strummed the guitar and I could feel him through his glasses. “Especially, when you light up like that.”

“What would you know about that?” I teased, a grin coming across his lips.

“I can hear it in your voice.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“What else can you hear?” I moved a little closer.

“I could tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

“What makes you so sure about that?” I smiled.

“Being blind heightens the senses, it freaks people out.” He was only slightly hesitant with his words.

“It doesn’t bother me.” I could hardly understand why people avoided Henry the way they did.

“It’s like the more I listen, the better I can see,” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah? And what do you see when you listen to me? I rested my sunglasses on top of my head.

“I just don’t think you’re ready for my expert analysis yet. Maybe some other time.” He was teasing me; I could hear it in his voice. I could see it in the half boyish grin that fell onto his lips.

“Try me.” I challenged.

“You’ll hate me if I’m right.” His face grew serious. “And you’ll hate me if I’m wrong. In what way would I win here? Besides, I’ve got a confession.” I was waiting for him to disappoint me. Here it was. I was waiting for it like child on Christmas Eve.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously.

“I’ve already read A Streetcar Named Desire. I didn’t want you to think I was just trying to get inside your head, but I wasn’t sure what else we could talk about. Besides, I have a nagging suspicion no one’s ever asked.”

“So what if they haven’t?” I shrugged. “I never really say anything that you couldn’t find on spark notes anyways. It’s not like I can really blame anyone for never asking what I’ve thought about it.”

“Parents ask their children to sing the alphabet, just to enjoy their passion in the accomplishment.” He smiled, almost laughing because he knew how silly he sounded.

“Well, I don’t have those kinds of parents. Besides, that was a dumb comparison.” I was suddenly too defensive, and I could sense him shutting down.

He shrugged.

“I just think you’re better than Spark Notes.”

“Do you want to get a coffee?” I suggested it as an act of peace, disregarding the half full cup next to me. He wouldn’t know the difference.

“You’re already drinking something.” My jaw dropped at his conclusion. “I’m blind, Blair; just blind.” He smirked. “If you wanted to spend more time with me, you could’ve just asked.”

“Um… Well, I…” I suddenly became coyer than I had anticipated.

“Come on, I’ll buy you anther coffee.” He smiled in triumph.

“Well I-” My phone began to vibrate violently. ‘Hold on, it’s my phone.”

“I tried to contemplate all the reasons why Samuel would even be calling me at such an hour. My mind only went to disaster.

“Hello?”

“Shit, Blair. We’re screwed.” His voice was panic-stricken.

“Why? What? What’s going on?”

“Napa was a disaster. They didn’t even touch ground before turning back.”

“So what does that mean?” I traced the rim of my coffee cup once more.

“It means- Shit, I am so fucking screwed!” I head shuffling.

“Is mom on her way here?”

“Yes!” He nearly shouted.

“And Dad?” I could almost feel myself not breathing.

“San Francisco.” He grunted. “Why does it have to be so fucking sunny?” I could only picture Samuel shouting at the sky. “Isn’t is suppose to rain here, all the fucking time?”

“Samuel?” I could feel my muscles tightening. “Where are you?”

“Bumble fuck outside Seattle.” He spoke carefully, as if anticipating my reaction.

“As in Washington? Samuel!” I watched as the amused expression on Henry’s face became an ever-changing kaleidoscope. And I was positive he believed I was insane.

“Stall! I’m walking into the airport as we speak, and judging by her voicemail, Eliza should be arriving within the next fifteen minutes.”

“So where, my dear brother, are you suppose to be this early in the morning?”

“I don’t know, on a hike? Make shit up.”

“She’ll never believe that, and the cameras will kill you first.” I warned.

“The cameras are slow as shit, she’ll kill me before they hit the Internet.”

“Seattle, Samuel?!” My voice jumped an octave.

“Gotta go, my flight is boarding in ten.” The line went dead.

“Rain check?” He already knew.

“Maybe.” I bit at my bottom lip nervously. “I’ve got to go.”

Samuel nearly got stripped of his trust fund that evening.