One Night in a Room Near the River
Nobody was high or anything. The strongest thing we had to drink was Constant Comment tea. Nasty stuff, but we thought it was what Leonard Cohen mentioned in that song Suzanne. And we were at Suzanne’s place and that was what she served us.
Our Suzanne loved that song, even though she knew there was no way it was about her. Wrong time, wrong place. And she wasn’t like Leonard Cohen’s Suzanne. But she was cool.
She was the last one to answer when Tom asked, “What’s the scariest thing you can imagine? In real life, I mean. Not zombies or werewolves or anything.”
There was a minute of silence before anyone spoke. It was Nick. “You go. Obviously you have something already.”
Tom didn’t seem to mind being challenged. “Okay. What if you came home late from a party and went straight to bed. But when you got there, you saw yourself. Right there. In your own bed. Asleep.”
Nick groaned and a couple of us sighed.
“That’s just Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” Norma said.
“I think they also did that on The Twilight Zone,” I said.
“But what if it was real?” Tom said. “Like it was really happening. To you.”
“You mean like you might have wandered into some alternate reality?” Nick said.
“Or if there really is a twilight zone?” Norma said. “Like maybe the show was really a documentary?”
That got a laugh. I think Tom was just laughing to go along. He was probably getting annoyed. Tom liked to start deep conversations. He probably thought this would be one.
“Not to be a drag,” I said, knowing I was going to be one. “But I think nothing’s scarier than the world right now. War. People dying. Cancer. Poverty. We’re luckier than most people in the world. Imagine being one of the others.”
“We could be,” Norma said soberly. “Anytime. Nuclear weapons.”
Again, we were quiet.
“Nothing,” Suzanne said finally.
Tom’s “Huh?” was the most distinct.
“Nothing is the scariest thing,” Suzanne said. “What if everything is nothing. We die and there’s nothing.”
We all just looked at her.
“I suppose nothing would be better than Hell,” Nick said. Almost cheerfully. Almost.
“And nothing couldn’t be really scary,” Norma said. “Because if nothing was nothing you wouldn’t be able to be scared. Because you’d be nothing.” She was sort of smiling as she gave an exaggerated shrug.
Again silence.
“Who wants more tea?” Suzanne asked. She rose from the spot where she’d been sitting cross legged on the floor and stretched like a dancer. She wasn’t really a dancer but she always tried to move like one.
“I’ll have some,” Norma said.
“Nothing for me,” Tom said. He started to get up from the overstuffed armchair, but sank back down with a deep sigh. He was too large a man to ever make it on the first try. He didn’t make a second attempt.
“I’m good,” Nick said. He shifted from his sitting position on the floor and lay back. His foot brushed mine as he extended his legs. He glanced at me but didn’t say anything before looking toward the ceiling.
I was sitting on the sofa. I didn’t want any tea but I thought I should help Suzanne or at least get up and walk around. Maybe then Nick would pay me some attention. Maybe if I stretched like a dancer. Like Suzanne always did. But I did nothing.
“Nice party you’ve brought me to, Tom,” Nick said quietly as Suzanne left the room.
She could have heard him, though. The kitchen was tiny and just steps away.
“You didn’t have to come,” Tom whispered. More to himself than to Nick.
“Hey Suzanne,” Norma called with more volume than was necessary. “How about some music?”
“Sure,” Suzanne called back. She emerged from the kitchen and stepped over to the corner where she kept her stereo. She was the only one of us who still used a turntable.
“Tea will be ready in a minute,” she said as she perched on the arm of the sofa opposite me.
A scratching noise emanated from the record player. The needle on vinyl. Then those familiar guitar notes and that raggedly gentle voice.
Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river…
“This again,” Tom said.
“Shut up,” Nick said.
Suzanne was smiling. Nick reached out a hand and placed it around her ankle.
Leonard Cohen sang, You can hear the boats go by, you can spend the night beside her…
The tea kettle whistled.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
I had to step over Nick, but he didn’t notice.
Suzanne said, “Thanks.”
I said, “It’s nothing.”
Dianne R. Thomas
Dianne R. Thomas is a Detroit-based writer whose work has appeared in Octavo, Flashquake, The Threepenny Review, and numerous other online and print publications. Her website —www.DianneThomas.net — offers free reading of fiction, poetry, vignettes, and more.