Coral and Pearl

They forced him to attend this gala every year. It was always a fundraiser that wanted to help orphaned pigeons or something equally as ridiculous. Benefactors arrived, took pictures, schmoozed up to some richer than life old lady with five or more hefty cats. The equally as bad, rich, geriatric fart that popped more Viagra than a pharmacy could prescribe in a week. Both had a high chance of flirting with something young enough to be their grand-daughter (or Great- grand in Ms. Juylawitz’s case).

He was a simple thirty-year-old man who was unattached, made decent money of his own and forced by a living will to attend this dog show of an event. There were more bitches than an AKC event on Thanksgiving Day trotting along, most, homelier than the dogs or their owners.

The ballroom was elegantly designed where it didn’t scream pretentious wealth or ‘I’m trying to get your money.’ It was cool marble in beige and gray tones with deep ebony-stained wood accents. There were tables with pressed tablecloths all around for the hundreds of guests milling about. The center floor had been raised to invite happily sloshed guests to make a mockery of the art of dance as the band sat tucked away on a corner raised stage.

He snagged a glass of champagne from the poor woman made to work the event. This year, they even included a theme to bring it from the muck and slander that threatened to shut the charity down from four years prior. Something in the press about a board member misappropriating donated funds and payments for a venue coming back as insufficient when deposited. The grand, reclaiming from negative media theme was “Hydro-straveganza”. The marble room fore mentioned was not the focus of the evening, more of a costly foyer and lounge area. The courtyard had been fashioned to have fairy lights in blues, greens and purples around floating planters, clear with shimmering water. There were several open, gauze tents with soft candles and benches fashioned from what looked like polished coral and pearl. Some water feature and stand-alone ponds had beautiful koi fish and unusual marine blooms. The space also had water features tinted to show the beautiful lights with deep reflections but from the main venue, the featured decorations created the constellation ‘Cancer’.

This was the first time the venue had been used since its rehab three years prior. It was a plot of neglected land that his parents had driven past many times in the past. It once had a plantation styled home with large, columns framing the front door show casing the wrap around porch. He didn’t remember the rest since he’d never gotten close enough to the property. From his eyes, the only thing remained were the columns. The design looked to destroy the worn interior and leave nothing but a skeleton. The staircase was kept and only a section of the second floor that had five or six rooms along with modern bathrooms to handle multiple guests. What was once the back wall was moved back about fifty feet to expand the substantial space. The turn of the century kitchen updated and moved to improve guests’ time spent in the refloored grand ballroom with elegant crystal chandeliers diffusing light gingerly.

He mulled around the party for what seemed like hours. His tender but well exercised behind had been pinched by both sexes and arms held by the oldest of women that lacked subtlety. He cringed as the memory of a woman his grandmother’s age (looked five times her age…) clung to him like a maggot on a festering wound. Checking his watch, he’d realized that it had only been an hour. Not nearly enough time had passed that he could leave without offending the gracious hosts nor pissing off his parents.

The man felt a deep, bone-weary sigh escape his mouth as he looked at his phone. Seeing as he had no missed messages or calls, he couldn’t even use the line that he had an emergency to attend to. As soon as one of these living fossils ran into his family, he would be made to face the wrath of his mother. Feeling a shudder roll down his spine, he pushed that idea into his mental folder called “Never try or contemplate again.”

Peering into the dark corner of the courtyard, there was a sound that drifted up from the foliage that was not of the band playing a jazz rendition of “Party in the USA”. Figuring that the grounds couldn’t be so massive that he would be away long enough to be missed, he moved off the path to find the source of merriment. He saw faint lights glowing ahead of him but the never seemed to move nearer.

Walking the dense foliage was a surprise because he had not expected it to be that hearty given how meticulous everything had been made for that night and due to the all-encompassing renovation. Yet, here moved for what felt like an hour that brought him no closer to the music. The sound of voices clear as chimes and bells rang out gayly, much more fascinating than the save the red hooved dragon lily or something.

Shaking his head, he turned back to find the path he started on covered in brambles and low brush. As he opened his phone to turn on the flashlight, he sharply noticed what appeared to be a skirt moving in his peripheral vision.

“Hello...? Miss? Ma’am?” his rich baritone did nothing but get swallowed by the sounds he couldn’t pinpoint. Shaking off the unsettled feeling keeping his feet unmoving for the moment, he continued looking for his way back to the gala. Ethereally, pale skin fluttered past him like a wisp of smoke from an extinguished candle. The woman was waif and dressed in pearlescent skirts. Delicate shoulders bare from the shimmering bodice fit snuggly to her bust. With raven wing- colored hair pulled into a messy bun and tendrils that danced in the miniscule breeze; she caught his attention. A faint smile played at the edge of her lips as she tipped behind a few trees and turned her wrist palm up to beckon with a finger.

He followed until the deep woods and overgrowth spit him out like chewing tobacco at the edge of an inland lake. He’d never been to the venue this far to know what it backed up to. Seeing the trees at the shore’s edge along with carved wooden benches, he marveled at its serenity. No one bench was spaced with the same amount between them; just scattered like an afterthought from individuals that didn’t expect the visitors they would receive. Looking around, there was no trace of the… Thoughts trailed off as he couldn’t remember why he’d come out to the lake. Perhaps, he was getting away from the stifling scent of three hundred different, high-end colognes and perfumes competing for dominance. He saw how beautiful the moon looked glimmering off the water. It rippled under the force of the breeze, but it wasn’t strong enough to make waves, only tiny ripples along the surface.

A woman sat on the bench beside him wearing an opal toned sheath dress that flared out at the bottom. She had high cheekbone and elegantly sloping shoulders that were free of blemishes. Her eyes were vivid green like malachite, cool and unaffected. She never gave a name, but she sat there in silence enjoying his company. He found that she never got chilled from the evening air though he felt his bones creak from the autumn bluster settling in. Because she was tolerating the weather well, he was determined he could too.

He sat there wondering how he had stumbled upon this beautiful lake. It had benches all around and it had an air of peace. He couldn’t remember why he traced this path but was happy he did. Looking around, there was a pretty woman sitting on the bench beside him. She was humming a soft tune that was eerie but calming. It reminded him of… he couldn’t recall what it sounded like, but he knew it was familiar. Her eyes held a luminosity like the moon’s reflection off the surface of the lake. Her long fingers were tipped in navy lacquer coated nails as she traced tiny circles and spiraling shapes onto the back of his hand. Each touch sent a shiver down his spine and prickling goosebumps down his hidden arms. He saw her mouth move but never heard a word. The man shook his head to snap back to attention.

Hearing a soft hum, he looked at the woman. He didn’t know when she got there but he found himself liking the tone of her voice. She had brilliant gray eyes and a mischievous smile that danced on her lips. He noticed a slight stinging on the back of his hand but couldn’t remember cutting or scraping it on anything. She lifted his hand to her mouth and pressed her lips to the back of it. He didn’t notice that the tongue that graced his skin had six parts. He didn’t notice that the eyes that were green, switched to emerald that changed to brilliant gray now had a red sclera with slit pupils. The once glowing, pale skin was a midnight blue, the color of the water in the lake at the darkest of night. The elegantly twisted blue- black locks were stringy and spread out like the vines of morning glories coiling and writhing with command of themselves. The beautifully crafted opalescent dress shifted into multifaceted scales that gave navy its otherworldly glow.

The man never noticed the blood she lapped from his skin filled her lips with the color of garnets and rubies. Never did he see how his skin became drier like coral left to harden in a healthy maritime relationship. He never noticed that the humming was a chant luring the souls from the depths of the lake. Countless other gaunt and waif figures trilled and danced up to the water’s edge. The moon’s sheer, prismatic rings pulsed an ominous red as clouds seemed to avoid the phenomena.

His own eyes saw himself dancing with Ms. Julyawitz at the gala grinning charmingly as he twirled her like a young woman she once was. He never noticed how his body solidified like the benches and chairs in the gala tents all while the navy woman and her devotees removed his remaining skin to powder. Never felt how his existence ceased to be remembered by his friends, family, enemies and countless acquaintances. The disillusioned vapor from hot breath to cold air.

No one to search his disappearance.

No one to investigate the blank name on the list.

No one to visit the lake in daytime to see the face of the man that never existed carved into the back of the gnarled trees at the shore’s edge.

No one to notice the venue that was an untouched plot of land with barbed wire and chained fence holding its secrets.

None to notice the lake that was once there, a dried clay pit with dust and debris scattered around and a fallen sign said, “Do Not Enter”.