Mira used to tell me that she wanted to join the military to kill someone. She said she wanted to feel what it was like: approved by the system, completely legal. When we were dating, she used to tell me it was important for me to feel genuine fear.
It was always unnerving to hear these kinds of morbid thoughts coming from Mira. Appearances can be very deceiving, because she looked like a sweet Midwestern girl with cute freckles on her nose and fiery red curls. The kind of girl you’d expect to see waving pom-poms at a high school football game or scooping ice cream at the local parlor on main street. Not someone who fantasized about taking a life.
We would go see horror films, but that wasn’t enough. She told me I needed to experience fear “without a safety net”.
On my sixteenth birthday, she lured me into the backseat of her stepdad’s 79 Trans Am with the promise of finally losing our virginities together. She started to struggle and so I stopped, and then she pulled out a handgun from beneath the driver’s seat and placed it on my temple and said with tears in her eyes, “How could you?”
I thought she was joking given her twisted sense of humor.
“What are you talking about?” I said, sitting up.
“I trusted you, Ken,” she said. “I thought you were different.”
“This isn’t funny Mira, put the gun down.” I said, wondering if it was actually loaded.
“You raped me.” Mira said, wiping the tears away with her other hand. “You raped me!”
“Raped you?” I responded. “We barely even kissed… you’re still wearing your pants-“
I wondered if Mira was having some kind of flashback. She never talked about her family life much. I knew her dad had died when she was young, but she never told me any of the details. Her mom had remarried a police officer who seemed like a nice guy, but maybe there were secrets she was keeping?
And then she pulled the trigger, I heard the hammer click… and in that moment I thought I was going to die.
And then a stream of water hit my face.
That’s the most fear and rage I’d felt at the same time in my life. Mira was laughing hysterically as I stared down at her with my fists clenched and water dripping down my chin onto her face.
And then she stopped laughing. “Go ahead!” she said, “Do it!”
Mira wanted me to hit her. She wanted me to push her to the edge, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t a sociopath like her. And then my next thought was, “Why am I dating a sociopath?”
I told myself part of the reason was that she showed interest in me, and the other factor was that by the hand of fate she happened to live across the street. We’d grown up in the same neighborhood for most of our lives, but I didn’t start noticing her until she turned thirteen and started dressing differently and walking her dog in front of my house. Until then she was just a weird girl that didn’t have any friends.
It also didn’t hurt that she was very cute. That would be a tool she would use on a lot of men I thought.
I broke up with her the next day. I knew one of was going to get hurt if we stayed together, or maybe both of us.
****
Chapter 2. Seven Years Later.
College was a blur of classes, late nights, and football practices. Mira became a ghost in the back of my mind—until the day of my graduation party. Our parents were still friends and my mom invited Mira to the part because she said Mira was on “shore leave”.
I felt a pit in my stomach when I realized that Mira fulfilled her dream of joining the military. I wondered if she had achieved her goal of killing people just to see what it felt like.
I tried to avoid her most of the night. Later in the evening I came out of the bathroom, and she was standing in the hall. Mira looked as unsettlingly beautiful as I remembered. Her auburn hair was pulled back tightly into a severe bun, accentuating her pale face. But it was her eyes that really got me, still intense and fathomless, like she was looking straight into my soul to whatever dark thoughts lurked within.
“Congratulations,” Mira said, smiling sweetly as she played with the hors d’oeuvres on her plate. “I hear you’ve moving on to bigger things?”
The disconnect between her wholesome looks and what I knew existed beneath still made me nervous.
“Thanks.” I said, my mind replaying the night in the Trans-AM.
I waited for her to move out of the way, but she didn’t move. Instead, she took a couple of steps closer.
“Are you staying in Michigan or are you moving to someplace interesting?” Mira asked, getting uncomfortably close.
I didn’t want her to think I was afraid of her, so I leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Los Angeles.”
Mira looked surprised and then she punched me in the arm and said, “I’m based in Los Angeles!”
I immediately started to consider alternative job offers. If I’d known she was based in Los Angeles that would have been enough to avoid California altogether.
“You know you broke my heart?” she said.
I didn’t say anything.
“You’re the only boy I ever loved.” Mira said smiling, coyly playing with the food on her plate.
“Well, you know, if I was Charles Manson ,we’d have been the perfect couple.” I said, immediately regretting being so honest.
She laughed, “You got that right! I would have stalked you for the rest of your life if you were Charles Manson, God what a dream come true.”
I wasn’t sure if she was serious.
“I’m just joking you dork.” Mira said, and stepped to the side so I could pass and as I tried to walk by she reached out her hand and blocked me.
We were now face-to-face. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.” Mira said. “That was super weird. I had some social quirks back then.”
She turned and looked at the crowd for a moment, as if searching for someone, and then she turned back and pulled me into her arms and kissed me. It was the best kiss I’d ever had. For a brief moment I’d forgotten how disgusted I was with her.
I pulled away and tried to think of something to say.
“It was a nice life lesson.” I mumbled, hoping she would realize I was talking about the night in the car and not the kiss.
She reached around a squeezed my butt, “I have a few more lessons to teach you.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as she looked behind her again and then pointed to a very tall man talking to her mother. “Come on, I want to introduce you to my fiancé.”
Mira took me by the hand and led me toward her mother and fiancé, while I reflected on what just happened. It finally dawned on me why she was searching the crowd before she kissed me.
Mira introduced me to Mark Brunson, a partner at the law firm of Latham & Watkins. It turned out that Mira wasn’t exactly living in Los Angeles, the naval base was in Ventura County, and they lived in Agoura Hills, which was 30 miles outside of LA, but still close enough for her to complicate my life.
“Mira tells me you played for Michigan?” Mark asked politely.
“I was a walk on.” I responded.
“He scored two touchdowns against Ohio State.” Mira said cheerfully.
I was surprised that Mira knew anything about my football career. I thought she’d moved on.
“That’s impressive.” Mark Said. “I always wanted to play football, but my parents wouldn’t let me, but I did win the city chess tournament.”
We continued the small talk for a few minutes. And then I excused myself when my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Norm arrived, late as always. I was thankful to have an excuse to break away from Mira.
* * * *
Chapter 3. Los Angeles
The move to Los Angeles was mostly uneventful. My dad had driven out with me, and it was fun reminiscing about the past.
I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to do with my life, especially during college. I majored in communications and a classmate suggested I come out and work with him at a talent agency. I had flown out to interview a couple months prior and I was surprised to be offered a job. It turned out that the partner who interviewed me was also a Michigan grad and so it was probably more luck than interview skills.
It sounded glamorous, but we were working in a mail room for very long hours, but it was okay since I didn’t have a social life. I just worked and came home and slept. There was a girl named Akemi who also worked in the mail room who I would hang out with sometimes. Akemi was from Japan and moved to the United States when she was thirteen.
I was living in an apartment that was a converted hotel room. It wasn’t too far from the ICM office on Wilshire Blvd, and it was also close to Hollywood. We would occasionally go and hang out at dive bars in the area and pretend to be movers and shakers.
I was there for about three months when late on a Saturday night there was a knock on the door. I didn’t have visitors, so I assumed it was a pizza delivery guy with the wrong room number which had already happened a few times.
Then the knock continued.
“I didn’t order a pizza!” I yelled and went back to watching a Netflix video.
And then they knocked again.
I got up and opened the door and Mira was standing there smiling, holding a bottle of wine. “Hello stranger, thirsty?”
Mira walked past me into the apartment and put the wine bottle on the table. “You know, I thought you would at least have the decency to call my mother and ask for my address.”
“I’ve been super busy with work.” I said, closing the door behind me.
“Do you have a wine opener?” she asked, looking through my drawers.
“No, but I have a key that will work.” I said, and went to the bedroom to retrieve my car keys.
When I turned around Mira was standing beside me.
“Here.” Mira said handing me the wine bottle, and then she collapsed into my bed. Her petite frame was casually posed, with one leg crossed over the other and an arm tucked behind her head, fiery red curls splayed out on the pillow.
“I’ll get us some glasses.” I said and went back into the kitchen.
My mind was racing. The last thing I wanted was Mira back in my life, but she was lying on my bed. Only a fool would pass up an opportunity like this, but my thoughts turned back to the Trans Am and I knew there was no way it would work out, not even for a night.
When I returned Mira was sitting up on the edge of the bed reading through some of the Variety and Hollywood Reporter magazines I had on the nightstand. “You’re really into this Hollywood thing aren’t you?”
I handed her a glass and sat on the opposite side of the bed, “It’s part of the job. It’s not that interesting actually… kinda boring.”
“Ken Blackmer, living a boring life?” She said raising an eyebrow. “I think that just came to an abrupt end.”
I had that sinking feeling in my stomach again.
“I kind of like the boring life.” I said, as she filled me a cup of wine and handed it to me.
“Well, looks like you’re living the dream then, all by yourself in this quaint little apartment reading magazines on a Saturday night.” She said.
“How did you find me?” I asked, but I had a pretty good idea.
“Well, when I never heard from you I figured you were trying to avoid me. And so, I did what any rejected woman would do, I called your mother.”
I couldn’t blame my mother since I never told anyone what happened that night. If I had told my mom she would have called Mira’s mother and it would have been a big mess.
I tried to be polite, and I asked her how things were going in the Navy. And then I remembered her fiancé.
“So have you set a date?” I asked.
She smiled and showed me a wedding ring, “We’re married. I would have invited you, but I knew you wouldn’t come.”
I was surprised that she would come visit my house as a newlywed, unless this was just another game she had running in her mind. Did she want her husband to find out and try to kill me so I could experience genuine fear? I couldn’t put it past her.
“Don’t worry, he’s in DC on a big case. He won’t be back in town for a week.” She slipped off the ring and put it on her necklace.
“Tonight, I’m single and ready to mingle,” she said standing up. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.”
I thought about telling her I had to get up early in the morning, but tomorrow was Sunday and she might not believe I had suddenly become religious.
“I drove past a Denny’s on the way here, I promise your night of torture will end with a Grand Slam Breakfast.” Mira said smiling, grabbing me by the arm.
Against my better judgment, I agreed to do it. If I had just told her I had to get up early, my life, her life, and countless other lives would be different.
The Denny’s on the Sunset Strip was open 24 hours. The place was like visiting a museum of the weird and strange. It was 2 am and the place was packed. We had to wait 30 minutes for a table and by this time I was started to feel the effects of the wine and the stress of being in Mira’s presence.
She held my hand as the hostess took us to a table.
“You know, we could have had the perfect life.” Mira said, perusing the menu even though she already knew what she wanted.
I just shook my head and smiled, “Nothing in life is perfect.”
She looked up from the menu, “Except you and me.”
I could never tell when Mira was being serious or joking.
We talk for another hour until I finally got the nerve to ask the first question I really cared about, “So, did you fulfill your fantasy of killing someone.”
Mira didn’t answer and instead looked across at a couple kissing at the table next to us.
“I was just a teenager with hormonal fantasies,” she said. “Haven’t you watched Dexter?”
I had watched Dexter and it reminded me of her.
“Lots of people fantasize about those things.” She added.
I should have moved onto another topic or asked for the check, but I couldn’t leave well enough alone.
“You still haven’t answered the question.”
Mira leaned in and her face became very serious, “I work for the military, everything I do is classified.”
Mira then smiled and said, “Let’s just say I’m no longer curious and leave it at that.”
A moment later the waitress came with the check. Mira grabbed it, “It’s on my for old time’s sake.”
We walked toward Mira’s car in silence. From behind us a voice said, “Hey mister, can you spare a few bucks?”
I turned around to see a man with a scraggily beard and green jacket. “I don’t have any cash on me.” I said.
And second later he pulled out a knife, “I’ll take that watch he said.”
I fumbled with the latch attempting to remove my watch.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Mira yelled at the men, who then pointed the blade at her.
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, bitch!” the man said, and a second later Mira used a sweep kick to send him on his back. The knife skittered across the parking lot.
The man attempted to get up but was met with a kick to his temple and he was out cold. Mira walked over and casually picked up the knife.
“Well, do you want to do the honors or should I?” Mira asked smiling.
“What the fuck was that?” I said, still in shock.
She flipped the knife in her hand and then sank it into his thigh. The man woke up in pain as Mira threw an elbow into his forehead and he was out cold again.
“He’ll think twice before doing that again.”
I tried to process what I just experienced. Mira didn’t know how to fight. I would make her cry Uncle when we were dating. She certainly never wielded a knife.
“Where did you learn how do that?” I asked, as the man on the ground groaned and slowly began to regain consciousness.
“You don’t know everything about me.” Mira said, wiping some of the man’s blood off her hand and onto her pants. “Even in high school you barely knew me.”
Two hours later we left the parking lot. The ambulance had taken the man to the emergency room and we’d given our account to the police, although Mira had told the police we wrestled the knife away. The camera system at Denny’s wasn’t working so in the parking lot and two of the lights were out, so it probably wouldn’t have been clear what exactly happened even if they had security camera footage.
When we got back to my apartment it was 5 am.
“It’s super late, is it okay if I crash on your couch?” Mira asked as she pulled into the parking lot.
I reluctantly agreed and pulled out an extra blanket my mom had sent me and gave her my only good pillow.
“You promise not to kill me in my sleep?” I half joked, hanging her the blanket and pillow.
“Very funny, “ she said, and turned around. “If I wanted you dead you would never have made it out of high school.”
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling wondering what I had gotten myself into, or rather, what I had allowed Mira to pull me into. A part of me wanted to help her, but I didn’t know if it was possible. My dad used to say if a sapling is bent it will grow in that direction its entire life, and so maybe no amount of intervention could help Mira.
I decided that just like when we were 16, I would end it before it went any further off the rails.
When I woke up there was an arm around me. It took me a second to re-orient myself and realize I was in my bed. Mira was fast asleep beside me.
“Mira, wake up.”
Mira’s eyes opened slowly, “Sorry, I was cold last night, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“This isn’t going to work.” I said getting up and putting on a clean shirt. “You’re married for Christsake.”
Mira sat up, “We didn’t do anything last night. At least I don’t remember us doing anything.”
I pulled on my jeans since I had plans with Akemi for lunch, but I didn’t want to give Mira any more information about my personal life than she needed.
“Are you going to meet Akemi?” Mira asked.
The words hung in the air for a while.
“I’m in the military, it’s my job to know these things.”
I thought about lying and saying she was just a friend, but for all I knew Mira had been following us.
“She’s cute,” Mira said. “I can see why you like her.”
* * * *
Chapter 4. Akemi
The next day I was at a coffee shop with Akemi. I wanted to tell her about Mira, but I knew trying to explain why I hung out with a sociopath might make her question our relationship. Everything about Akemi was the polar opposite of Mira. There were no weird conversation detours into the morbid, we mostly talked about work and our dreams for the future.
“Do you ever wonder whether you made the right choices?” Akemi asked.
I was starting to wonder if I was giving off some kind of vibe or perhaps Akemi was just one of those people with great intuition?
“Well, until recently I would have said no, but lately… yeah. I have been questioning a lot of things in my life.” I answered.
Akemi smiled, “Me too. I’ve been wondering whether I should have gone to medical school rather than chasing this crazy dream.”
I felt a sense of relief. She hadn’t picked up on my existential crises. If Akemi knew my regrets had nothing to do with a career and were about life and death she would be shocked.
“What would you have done differently?” Akemi asked.
“Well, I would have never dated any girls so that you would have been my first kiss.” I answered, which was the God’s honest truth.
Akemi laughed and threw her napkin at me. I hoped she never found out about Mira because then she would know what I said that.
That hope lasted for about five seconds.
“Ken Blackmer?” A voice said from behind me. I didn’t need to turn around because I recognized it immediately.
I slowly turned around and Mira was standing a few feet behind me holding an expresso. “I thought that might be you! Oh my God.” Mira said, looking genuinely surprised.
(TO BE CONTINUED…)
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