My anger was growing in a cold wave. I picked up the plate and threw it on the floor. "I need to get going, Thomas." I walked away.
Thomas threw a few bills on the table for his final good-byes. "I'll see you soon, Doc."
I punched my car door, ready to jump in and scream out all the spite and anger that I felt at him.
But I didn't do it. I just sat there, at a red light, the rain drenching me under a heavy blanket.
I've done enough, I think.
I'm going to let it be.
The car slowly moves forward. I'm lost in the rain. It's a quiet night.
My thoughts are the only things that make me feel safe.
Content with that, I sink into my thoughts and let my soul go, let myself feel again.
---
This is a work of fiction.
George Tarloff is the author of eight novels and two collections of short fiction. His short stories and essays have appeared in the Winter Solstice and Two States poetry journals, The Glass City Review, the Rhinestone Review, and The North Plains Review.
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The knife penetrated her, its sharp edge digging its way deep inside her as she gasped aloud.
The knife penetrated her, its sharp edge digging its way deep inside her as she gasped aloud.
Dinah screamed.
“It hurts!” She hadn’t even realized that it would, the shock almost unbearable. She felt her hand moving, trying to pull it away but couldn’t move it at all. She pushed herself up as hard as she could, her body trembling all over, and finally managed to force her hand from where it had been clasping a wet cloth soaked in blood to her stomach. She stared at the knife lying beside her in the dark. “It hurts,” she said again, as if in a trance. She dropped it to the floor, unable to lift her hand to pick it up. “My hand.”
“Are you hurt?” Her uncle was trying to get closer to her but couldn’t quite reach. She shook her head, although it was so hard she felt dizzy. She could smell her own blood now, but somehow she didn’t feel afraid of it anymore. Somehow the sight of it, the taste of it, didn’t frighten her, although she couldn’t feel it touching her. She lay there, staring at the ground. “Dinah?” Her uncle said again.
“I don’t know,” she answered softly, biting her lip, her eyelids heavy, letting them close.
Her uncle started to say something but didn’t get a chance to finish. Something smashed into the side of her head. She felt herself falling. Her thoughts lingered on the knife lying beside her. What would happen when she picked it up? She wanted to sit up and take it in her hands but couldn’t do it. Then the darkness engulfed her, she couldn’t even move her arms.
When she opened her eyes, she was staring at her uncle and his son.
“You’re awake.” Roland was looking down at her with eyes that she thought were dark, but now she realized were green. And then she realized that his son was as well, but he had no eyes at all. They were all black, shining, staring. Even his hands, which she was looking at now, without realizing it. They looked exactly like his father’s.
“You were in a bad way,” Roland said, his voice soothing.
“Who’s your brother?” she asked. She felt like the cool night air and the sound of the lapping waves would calm her. The blackness had been lifted. Her hands were no longer shaking, no longer dragging the sheets with them.
Her uncle nodded slowly. “His name is Alexander, and he’s from Russia. You must have been talking with him earlier.”
He said something else, but Dinah couldn’t hear it. Her thoughts seemed to have taken a step away from the present. She heard a heavy scraping sound nearby.
Her uncle said her name again. “I tried to talk to you earlier,” she said. “Your name.”
Roland looked toward the sound. “I tried to warn you but you didn’t seem to hear me.”
Her father’s voice sounded in her mind. “Mais, listen to me. It’s me, I’m the one in charge here. Please, do what I ask you to do.”
Her father. She tried to smile, and it felt so good. So good to hear her father’s voice. So good to know he was on her side. “Is that you, Papa?”
“Yes. It’s me. I just wanted to tell you what to do.”
“Yes, I do want to do what you say, Papa. But who’s this man? Is he an angel?”
“Only one angel.” His voice sounded strange now, full of pain, so full of pain that she could feel the pressure building inside of her as he spoke. “I don’t know if you heard me, but I was the one who killed Alexander. I’m the one who hurt you so much. But I love you, and I do what I can to protect you.”
He was close now, leaning over her. Her eyes fluttered closed. He whispered something and she heard a sigh, so soft she could hardly hear it.
His words and the sound of his breathing were her only contact with the world. She couldn’t speak her thoughts any longer. The blackness was back. She didn’t know how long she lay there, unmoving, staring at the ceiling.
She didn’t know when the blackness left her mind.
She didn’t know where she was.
She didn’t know when her father’s voice and the sounds of the ocean were the last things that touched her mind.
But the sun was shining and the wind was blowing. She was lying on her stomach on a white beach. Gleaming sand spread out in all directions.
Her skin was warm, so warm. And her hands had fallen down onto something soft. She pulled them away and saw the blue scarf lying in front of her.
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Ingredients:
125g lard
12g chopped glacé cherries
9 egg yolks
4 skinless chicken breasts
1 peeled yam
2 teaspoons maple syrup
Ingredients:
125g lard
12g chopped glacé cherries
9 egg yolks
4 skinless chicken breasts
1 peeled yam
2 teaspoons maple syrup
2 cups arborio rice
75g peas (frozen)
1 cup chopped cilantro
3 tablespoons chili sauce (extra heat)
To serve:
3 slices of croissant
3 ounces creme fraiche
3 ounces goat cheese
1/2 cup raw walnuts
Cooking Instructions:
Combine the butter, white sugar, oil, corn flour, black pepper and all the other ingredients for the dough into a large mixing bowl. Mix the dough until it comes together. Make small walnut sized balls of dough and place on a sheet of plastic wrap and flatten with a fork. Wrap the dough into a jar or large food container and put in the fridge overnight. When you want to make your panzanella you need to do the following.
In a small pot over high heat, melt the lard and let it simmer for a minute to begin making the crisp coat. Once the butter has melted and started to cook slowly begin stirring the skillet and crack the eggs into the pan. It's important that the whites are bright and never reach the bottom. Don't leave the eggs too long before lifting them from the pan so the whites don't cook to the bottom. Drain the rice of any excess liquid and add it to the pan. Meanwhile melt the egg yolks in the blender with 1/4 cup of the arborio rice and cream them together with maple syrup. Once all the ingredients have been combined into a thick mixture slowly pour the egg mixture into the pan of cooked rice. The rice should cover and not be underneath. Then in batches pour it into the fridge to cool before storing in an airtight container.
To prepare the grill for the chicken, preheat the grill to high for a few minutes. Then place the chicken breasts directly on the grill in the panzanella. Reduce the heat to medium and cook for 30 minutes before lowering the heat. The chicken will be cooked on the bottom. Take out of the grill and cover for about 5 minutes to let the chicken rest. Once the chicken has rested you are ready to finish the panzanella.
To cook the rice on the grill, preheat the grill to high for about a minute on the one side. Then place the rice on the grill with the lid down for 1-2 minutes. Carefully take the lid off and turn the grill on the other side to cook the rice for another 5-10 minutes. Check the rice and remove it from the grill when the rice is cooked through but the grains are still a little crisp.
To finish the panzanella make the creme fraiche and pour over the warm panzanella. Sprinkle on the cilantro and walnuts and serve.
