The Secret Diary Of Laura Palmer Part 5

I couldn't move.

"Your end isn't much of a party, is it?"

"No. No, it's more like a wake... no party I'd like to go to. Sir."

"You can go on back to your seat and relax."

"What's going on in the house, right now?"

He shrugged. "I guess the boys are sitting around debating whether or not to blow their faces off or send 'em back to high town just the way they came in."

"Oh. I feel much more relaxed now. Thank you."

I had to sit in that f.u.c.kin' truck for almost forty minutes waiting to find out if Bobby and Leo were allowed to drive home in solid, rather than liquid, form. At last, they came out of the front door patting these bullies on the backs and laughing like they went way back. I thought, gee, this is great. I'm out here about to be shot point-blank for lifting a kilo of cocaine (I carefully inserted it under my dress, which still appeared skintight, and proved me innocent of the theft), and the thanks I get is a snail's pace on the way to the truck. And a cheesy example of male bonding if I ever saw one.

And then a look of total fear came from Bobby's eyes to mine and registered, "Look out!" Guns started going off like the NRA had accepted applicants who were legally blind. People were just f.u.c.king shooting at each other... paranoid, and so high that if they were hit, they'd notice sometime tomorrow.

I slid over into the driver's seat and swung around to where Leo was hiding, unarmed, praying like a madman, and we were gone speeding down the road back towards the city.

Then, it was my turn to send the "Oh, s.h.i.t" look. When we were halfway down the road, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw someone else in the truck bed with Leo, and Leo was losing something awful. Bobby pulled out his gun and with his free hand, lifted himself out of the side window and told the guy he had two seconds to disappear or die. He had to choose fast...

The guy sat up, and Bobby shot him in the chest at a range of about three, maybe four feet. The speed of the bullet sent the guy flying out of the back of the truck and onto the ground behind us. Bobby screamed at me, "Get the h.e.l.l outa' here. Drive!"

As soon as we were back on paved roads, Bobby lowered himself into the cab, still holding the gun in his hand as if he were ready to fire.

Bobby was silent the whole way home. Leo sat in back and thanked G.o.d for the miracle of prayer. I wondered if there was a lot of blood in the back of the truck, and if the man was dead...

At Leo's house I walked in and asked him if we were alone. He said we were, and so I removed the entire kilo of cocaine from my skirt, plastic in mint condition. A good job, I thought, for an amateur like myself. I apologized to Bobby for probably causing the extra man to hide in back.

I was searched, though, and the guy said I was clean. I thought they'd given up, seeing as how everyone was hugging each other on the way out of the house.

"They were telling us nice and slow," Leo said, "how they'd find us and remove our genitalia a half inch at a time... with a b.u.t.ter knife if the bimbo with us was sitting on a kilo of their c.o.ke, it wouldn't be long before we'd bypa.s.s all hospitals and go directly to h.e.l.l."

I sat down and thought for a moment about the word "bimbo."

"Hey, you guys" I said. "I'm real sorry. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think you guys would be jumping up and down about it." No response.

"I'm the one who suggested we not go at all, remember?"

A smile from both of them.

Leo nodded toward the kilo and said, "You got yourself quite a party in that bag."

Bobby turned and looked at me with sudden pride. "A coupla regular Bonnie and Clyde's."

That drama ended and yet there was another to come. We, of course, decided to begin blowing the stuff up our noses in quant.i.ties never before accepted by the human body. If the bullets didn't kill us, the mountain of cocaine would come in a close second.

We were high. I needed to get out. I wanted some stuff from the Cash and Carry. Neither of them would even think of leaving the couch.

They were into the television, and even more so the macho thrill of sitting in front of a mountain of cocaine, with three straws protruding from a hole at the top of the bag.

Both of them looked at me with puppy-dog eyes and dilated pupils and said, do you mind if we just hang? I was a little p.i.s.sed at Bobby for not offering to escort his own girlfriend, the very one who had risked her life, however worthless at the moment, to ensure that he be as high as he was.

I figured screw 'em and decided I could handle a two-block drive down the road to the store, without breaking into the sweats or experiencing an emotional breakdown.

I drove off, and as I pa.s.sed the only two other homes on the road, I noticed a magazine lying on the floor of the truck that I hadn't noticed earlier. Fleshworld Magazine.

My mind went reeling, a magazine that could perhaps teach me something I hadn't thought of myself... and BAM!

I pulled over to the side of the road, and before I got out of the truck to see what I had hit, I saw myself four years ago. A young girl, awakened by the noise, came flying from the front door and began to slow as she saw the animal in the road.

She looked at it and took one step closer, still not going within fifteen feet of it, as if to spare herself the reality.

I turned and saw Jupiter. A cat identical to the one I considered a best friend before some drughead like myself came along and without any thought, cared more for the stories in a p.o.r.n magazine than for what might be crossing the road.

I couldn't help but begin to cry. Then I couldn't stop. I was the person years later I had hated for taking my cat away from me when I needed his company the most. I told the little girl I would do whatever she thought was best. If she wanted a new cat, I would be happy to buy it... She looked at me - and tried to cheer me up! Her cat is stuck to the road, because of my s.e.x hang-ups, and she's trying to make me feel better.

She came around to the side of the truck, where I was leaning. I was unable to face her.

I felt such tremendous shame, I could barely move.

"Please, stop crying."

Jesus, she even sounded like me.

"Why are you so sad? I didn't mean to make you feel so bad."

I looked down at her and saw something I missed so much. Such a willingness to forgive. Such a big heart; this one girl could love all of these United States and leave no one feeling lonely.

"When I was just about your age, I had a cat who looked just like yours. I called him Jupiter, and he was probably the best friend around. Someone hit him out in the street, and I heard the noise and came running to help him. I remember I was so amazed by how quickly... death decides it is hungry."

There was a moment where there was only wind. We said nothing.

Then she looked up at me and asked, "Did you forgive the person who hit your cat?"

I crouched down beside her and told her that Jupiter was killed by someone who hit and ran. "I figured she was in heaven, but I missed her a lot... and I forgave her death, but I don't think I ever forgot that someone hit my cat, but didn't stop to say they were sorry.

She held up her hand, and her nightgown flannel, made me smile. "My name is Danielle." She shook my hand tight.

"My name is Laura Palmer." I gave her a hug and she wrapped her arms around me, warm. "It's very nice to meet you, Danielle." I stood. "It takes an awfully special person to forgive so easily."

She held my hand for a minute, and after thinking about something very carefully she looked up at me and said, "When I heard the noise, I was worried that the cat had been hurt... But I came out, and I saw you, and you were crying more than me, because you remembered your cat, and it made you sorry you hurt this one. Why would I want to make you feel bad for anything you do? I think you're nice, Laura Palmer."

"Danielle, I think you are extra special nice, with sugar on top." I looked away toward the cat, then back to her.

"My mom is gonna get it."

Little Danielle made me feel, more than anyone I had been around in ages, that there was still a chance for everything to work out. I even began to think a new cat would be nice...

I just remembered that I set my horse free. I hope I didn't send it off somewhere where it might be hit, or not taken care of the way he should. I guess I should have thought of that before I allowed myself to be swept away by the drama of setting my horse free, to go and do whatever he wished... Alone.

Boy, I'm not racking up the brownie points this week, am I? What very dark but almost omenlike events I've gone through. Why?

Am I supposed to get back up onto life and get a job? Or am I still revved up to die? All I know is I'm taking the truck back right away, and I'm leaving the drugs behind for a sobering walk home.

Maybe' Mom will make hot chocolate, and I can edit the evening's events and just be with my mom. I'll just take the truck back and go right home. I'll just walk. Just get home.

Write you when we get there.

L.

November 13, 1987 Dear Diary, I am home. It's early. Leo and Bobby weren't very happy about the fact that I wanted to go home. Leo had decided that it was going to be a night of new and "unusual things." Bobby was really, really high, and I think Leo had told him that he was supposed to talk me into going along with whatever Leo wanted, because I had never seen him so concerned about keeping me somewhere. His constant looks toward Leo made me think Bobby felt guilty, or maybe uncertain about whether or not he should be leading me into this. Waving the cheese in front of the mouse... a little blond-haired, very frightened, little mouse. See the trap? See it? Go. You wanted this anyway, remember?

Leo shook his head when I told them I had decided I wanted to leave, that something had happened that made me feel... I stopped. I didn't finish my sentence because I suddenly saw that the two of them were in no position even to pretend they cared about some cat out on the road. An animal in white, perhaps still there... or like I imagined it while driving slow, lights off, back to the end of the road. I saw its dead eyes locking on the vision of a mother, probably tired and wondering if her daughter would be all right. Wondered, as she carefully lifted the animal's body, if death stopped, right here. Maybe she thought about work to be done the next day, thought about hovering there in the road... so tired, always tired.

I guess I'm thinking of myself here. I am tired. I'm the one who asks, is death only the frozen image we have of the animal's body? Grandfather's ashes, just an easier way to fit him inside an urn? He's just a body anyway, why not decorate the remains?

When I die, I guess they'll bury me. I hope the cat was buried. I thought of staying there to help, but everything was too close. The body there like a message.

Maybe roadkills are more than they seem. Messages, like tonight's was... or examples we never pay attention to. This is what it is. Stillness. Eternal privacy. I didn't want to stay tonight with the guys. I wanted to go home, sleep in my bed, be a little girl again. Fake an illness or cramps and ask Mom to take care of me. Read Sleeping Beauty or Stuart Little, sip coffee while she turns pages, watches me.

I wanted that, but I knew I would end up staying at the house. Sneak in early, before dawn... beat the alarm by seconds. Strip down to nothing and slip into bed. I knew I'd tell you what happened. Simply. With a pen, and no sound. Words have been strange to me these past few days. Mine have been lies, again and again. Another comes along to help the other lie live... stay real. Bobby's words have been like little knives. I know he doesn't mean to hurt me, but his surprise in my behavior, the other night, last night, the difference he sees when I get high... and there's been a lot of that. He says he never knew I was so wild inside. I think he means that he never knew I was so bad. He never knew Laura Palmer the way the woods, the trees, the earth, knew her. Often shaken and angry, threatened, paralyzed, unable to run. Or never chose to. Laura Palmer was told that she deserves pain, and a kind of closeness most people never talk or think about because they think it's wrong. Laura Palmer? She was born without a choice. Was told very quietly, one night long ago, that she would like it, or she would have to be killed.

I stayed at the house. Leo wanted me to drink something. Relax. He said he wanted me the way I had been. He said I had promised him. He'd make sure I was home in time... no one would know. He kneeled down in front of me and took me by the wrists, tight. I thought of BOB and closed my eyes. I must have winced, made a sound, something, because he said, "I knew it. I knew this meant something to you." He moved his hold on me down to my hands. Held them more softly. "Good. I knew you'd understand. I saw it." I heard Bobby' get up from his chair and I heard Leo stop him. "Sit down, Bobby. Now. Laura will get you a drink. She'll open her eyes, and we'll all have a drink."

I opened my eyes slowly. Leo let my hands rest in my lap. I stood up and went to the kitchen for Bobby's drink. I could hear the two of them talking in the other room. They started to argue about something. I think it was about me, the plans for the evening. It actually hurt my head, my ears, when they argued. I didn't want any more talking like that. I went out to where they were sitting and told them to shut up. I wanted them to shut up. I would do or say whatever tonight's "games" required. There didn't need to be fighting. I wanted to have fun. I wanted to be high. High like they were. I wanted to forget what had happened outside on the road.

Bobby came into the kitchen and told me I was lucky Leo hadn't given me a good smack for telling him to shut up in his own house. I told him it wasn't luck. I knew Leo liked me. If he hit me, ever, it would be part of the agreement.

Bobby said that he'd like to go out, just the two of us, next week maybe, on a date. He missed being with Laura. I hated him for saying that. I wanted to slap him. Instead, I told him I didn't miss Laura at all. I told him he may never see her again.

We drank for a long time just sitting there doing lines and watching Leo: I didn't know what for, but I knew I had to be ready. He might be nice, he might not. I wasn't looking at Bobby the whole time. I made sure he saw me with Leo. I didn't like Bobby's missing the sweet Laura. I can't wake her now. She doesn't like nights like this. She wouldn't want to play. I did. I needed to be someone different from her... I had to shake off whatever calls BOB to my window. Shake the scent of innocence. I decided something. I told them I wanted to go out, into the woods. Leo looked pleased and smiled at Bobby. He looked back at me, nodded toward my empty drink. "You feelin' f.u.c.ked up?" I told him I was, but I didn't want to be inside anymore. I didn't like the light. I told him it made things too easy.

I started to pack up some c.o.ke for the woods, and Leo looked at me like I was stealing or something. I told him, "Listen, I stole the s.h.i.t, right? I'm the one that's going to make your night... and I am not going to start to come down while I'm out in the woods." He said he was just watching me. Said I should relax. Then he came over to me, close. He said he liked it when I stood up for myself, but there would be no room for that out in the woods.

I suddenly pictured myself out in the darkness with my arms spinning me around, spinning, Leo and Bobby in my sight each time I spun... Then a slow dream of Leo, his eyes big, pleased, lips parting, his hands coming together again and again as he slowly applauded my performance.

Before we left, Bobby came out of the bathroom and said he'd decided he was tired, didn't want to be around. He said he knew that tonight was about Leo and me anyway. He said maybe he'd call me in a few days. Leo smiled as Bobby slammed the front door shut.

"Bobby's a smart boy."

I nodded, but inside I wanted to kill Bobby for making me feel bad. He wanted Laura, sweet and pure, to run after him, walk home beside him, her hand in his. He made me want her for a moment. It wasn't safe. He didn't understand how unsafe that was for all of us, especially out here. The woods needed to see me tonight. They needed to see how I've grown, what I've become. Then they can tell BOB to stay away from me. He'll think his job with me is done.

Leo came over to me and slipped his hand up my blouse, held my eyes with his, found the nipple with his finger. Held my eyes, wouldn't let me look away, said, "You won't miss him, you won't miss anyone."

He released my eyes; my legs almost gave out on me. "Take me somewhere, make me forget." I reached for his arm so that I could regain my balance. He said he had something in mind. He said it could get scary, but it would be okay. He said if he liked me after tonight, we could really start to get close. He wanted to see me tonight first, alone.

He asked me if I liked to be scared.

I said that sometimes scary things happen, but they're gone in the morning. I told him I wanted to get really hot, I needed to feel that. I hadn't felt that for a long time. I had been busy giving it.

When we left the house, he put a blindfold around my head. He whispered, "Can you feel the darkness?"

I told him I could.

He said, "Good. I'm going to take you into it. Just like you wanted. I'll guide you, so you just walk with me until I tell you to stop."

We began walking, and as we did, I felt the trees close in above me, noticed the wind, slowing, spinning until it settled, unable to return to the sky... I heard Leo breathe. Felt his hand on my back, strong. I wanted to tell him I was getting that feeling in my stomach. The one that makes you loose, makes you want things... ? But he wouldn't let me talk. He said that he would do all of the talking until he needed to know something from me. He was pretty sure, he said, that he would know how I felt without even hearing me say it.

It seemed like a long time before he stopped. And I didn't know what to do, so I waited. For his lead. When we finally came to a stop, I heard him begin to circle me, his footsteps faint on the needles covering the ground. I could feel his eyes as if they were hands, up and down, following this curve and that. He stopped behind me.

"Can you keep a secret, little girl?"

I wasn't sure if I should answer.

"It's okay. Go ahead and tell me."

"Yes. I can keep a secret."

I suddenly began to feel and smell the same deep musk of the woods. I know it well. I began to feel my fear setting in, and I had to roll my head, loosen up... fight it. Remember what this is about.

"The secret is that sometimes, right in this spot, I hear voices. Sometimes I realize that I'm not alone."

"Whose voices do you hear?"

"The voices I don't know... But sometimes, if I am very quiet, I find that I can feel these people around me. I can hear them talking about me, but if you were to try and see them, they would most definitely disappear."

"Do you hear any voices now?"

"I think I hear them faintly. Coming in this direction. Does that scare you?"

"I don't think so, no." I was ready for a busload of truckers to arrive and begin some kind of strange ceremony... I suddenly felt very exposed. I wondered how many people were on their way.

"I'm going to help you sit down. Over here."

Leo sat me down and I realized I was in a quite comfortable chair, dead in the middle of the woods. What was this place? Had I ever seen it during the day? Music began to play. Strange sounds of water, and something I couldn't place... and a drum... low.

I felt it in my chest. It was loud enough that I was suddenly unable to sense by sound if someone was near me or not.

I heard in my ear, "Wait here... relax. Enjoy." I'm not sure I can even describe to you the next five hours of time. The music was constant, a rhythm that made me sway and ache for more of everything. More of the hands that were suddenly upon me, lips soft along my neck, hands on my chest, thighs, face. Voices in my ears, whispering close... backing away.

I think that there were three different women, and at least four men, Leo included. I was tied, eventually to the chair with a rope that bound my hands almost to the point of discomfort, which I knew was part of the game, and well planned. Each and every fantasy one might conjure late at night, with the exception of farm animals, was performed on, with, or for me. It was like I had been swallowed by a dream, perfect in every way. My only responsibility was to maintain my blindness and allow each person his chance to come and be with me.

I could hear them, the others who would wait in line to see me. Just voices in the woods, whose bodies became images I could hear, see them through the sounds they made... everything had become so sensitive. I could hear them all night as they would excite each other to the point of small internal convulsions, billions of tiny waves of light, water, electricity, running through them. All of them would react with a strange joy and amazement... a thirst when one would reach a climax. Even I, who sat away from them as if on display (more a trophy than a freak), felt pleasure in the sounds around my feet.

These people, all of various ages, spent evenings in the woods, forgetting names and histories, using only their most basic feelings and wishes to be held and touched, wanted, and completely accepted, no matter what they looked like, or who they were at work or school the following mornings. It was dark and strange and almost intoxicating at times. I would sway, my head heavy in this darkness. The energy was so thick, I almost felt the air separate, part slowly to let me move. Each and every nerve in my body had something to say... a scream beneath the skin, constant and much greater than usual because I could not sense it coming. I could swear there were times I was sensitive enough to feel the fingerprints of those who touched me. See them by how they felt across my skin... each pattern like light trails behind my eyes.

When I saw again, with my eyes, the image was of my house. The light across it, just before sunrise... a yellow mist of light still fighting the shade that has not finished its stay.