The Last Sunflower

11/26/2024

An Ocean Beach cave at low tide in San Francisco.

Writing can sometimes be an exhausting endeavor. You begin to wonder if it wouldn't have been better to shine shoes in a street corner booth for instant gratification, like posting on Facebook—regardless of whether anyone likes what you post, you do it anyway like a terrible addiction. Tonight, I found a sunflower, likely the last one of the season. I had seen it the day before, standing tall and proud, but tonight, it had succumbed, its stem bent, facing the ground. So, I decided it was meant for me. My final memento of Fall 2024, I brought it home where it now stands proud and tall once more.

In Chapter 15, more about Precious May was revealed—her ambitions, her sudden infatuation with Ahab, and a murder.

PRECIOUS MAY

As E’la Solita Storia sung by Luciano Pavarotti played over the stereo at Precious May’s living room apartment on Leavenworth Street in the Civic Center, Precious was seated at her vanity in her bedroom, applying the finishing touches to her makeup, accentuating her lustrous lips and managing her tangled red hair. She felt disheveled today, a sentiment reflected in her blue eyes that were not so electric, due to the relentless mist and rain drenching the city. While rain benefited the planet, an excess always left her feeling irritable and devoid of spirit. Although she anticipated that Ahab might disagree, the thought brought a smile to her face. Ahab was always one to embrace the rain, often dancing in the downpour with unrestrained joy and claiming it invigorated his soul. Precious found it amusing because his enthusiasm was in stark contrast to her own gloominess on such days. Imagining his carefree demeanor in the midst of the storm made her chuckle, even as she tried to tame her unruly hair.

She anticipated that soon they would possess a substantial amount of money, rightfully Ahab's, which his brother, Abel, had effectively stolen by usurping Ahab's birthright to amass a greater fortune. Once they reclaimed his wealth and more, she could abandon her current profession. They could relocate to an exotic locale like Tahiti, escaping the chaos once and for all. Perhaps there, she could become the woman Ahab merited, the one he yearned to hold eternally. In Tahiti, Precious imagined a serene existence, with the island's vivid colors reflecting the joy she craved. She wouldn't mind the rainy season since it was hotter there. The idea of soaking in the sun, far from the city's gloom and incessant rain and fog, gave her a feeling of serenity. She aspired for a new beginning, to cast aside her former hardships and wholeheartedly accept the love and life she and Ahab were meant to share.

The doorbell rang. With a sigh, she reluctantly closed her gown and rose to answer it. Terry stood there, presenting a rose and the cash he had borrowed, now returning it. She expressed her gratitude and invited him inside.

"You look gorgeous," he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"Looks can be deceiving," she replied. "Please, take a seat. I'll fix you a drink. And thank you for the rose and the money. You didn't have to repay me so soon."

"I have just received my payment," he stated calmly. "It was important to settle this. Without prompt payment, my bi-weekly disability check would be depleted quickly."

"Do you have a habit? A sick addiction?"

"I freak out sometimes. I'm not perfect. Don't we all?"

"No, not all of us."

"Of course, I don't mean you. You're exceptional, Precious."

For once, he appeared clean, bordering on attractive, yet still not quite there. Precious found herself gazing at him, a sense of dismay washing over her, questioning the reason. "Let's place your rose in water. I'll go change and return shortly. Please, take a seat, won't you?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Terry said, sitting on the white sofa.

"By the way," Precious added before she left the room, "you look sweet. Very nice."

"Thank you, Precious. That's exactly what I was hoping to hear."

"I know," she said with a smile. "You deserve it. Now relax yourself."

After she left, Terry rose and faced the mirror, slicking his hair back. He retrieved a breath spray and freshened his mouth. Naturally nervous, he found comfort in the fact that Precious was a professional. His worries faded except for one... and for once, he was actually in the mood for that. Who wouldn't want Precious May and a romp in the hay? This thought made him laugh heartily. Hearing his laughter, Precious's voice came through the door, tinged with concern. He assured her he was fine and hurried back to the sofa, sitting upright and composed, as though he had been mischievous and was now caught.

As Shostakovich played, Terry didn't want to waltz but felt compelled to when Precious reappeared in the doorway, the stem of a rose held in her mouth. Her sheer lace see-through black dress was a testament to her self-assuredness and comfort in her own white skin. She moved with confidence, casting an alluring look at Terry that stirred a blend of admiration and nervous anticipation in him. He was enthralled by her poise and the seamless grace of her movements. Standing up, he pondered whether this was the precipice of a life-altering moment.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Stunning, although I expected something more understated."

"The night is young," she said, heading to the bar. "A drink, as promised."

"Did you, now?"

"Absolutely," she replied, setting the rose in a glass of water before beginning to mix a cocktail for Terry, discreetly adding a bit from a small brown bottle she had stashed in a locked drawer. "I hope this does the trick. Have you seen Ahab around lately?"

"Just a couple of times; he's always on the go ever since he mentioned that fortune his brother possesses."

"A fortune for the three of us," Precious said, gazing into empty space as she stirred the drink she brought to Terry. As she handed him the glass, her eyes flickered with a hint of mischief. "You see, I've got plans for that fortune," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "And this drink should ensure that everything goes smoothly, with you by my side."

"A fortune split in two is indeed better," Terry said, taking a big gulp of his drink.

"How did you know?" Precious teased, touching his side.

Terry paused, his eyes widening slightly as the unexpected bitterness hit his palate. "That's quite a kick," he remarked, trying to mask his surprise with a smile. “I just guessed,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling faint. Precious watched him intently, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Finish your drink?" she urged and stroked his chest. "I'll make you another."

Terry felt woozy as he heard Renee Fleming's hauntingly beautiful voice coming from the stereo. "Already?" he mumbled again. His vision started to blur, and the room appeared to sway, making it difficult to keep his balance. A cold sweat formed on his forehead as his heart pounded, each throb resounding in his ears. He attempted to focus on Precious, but her image seemed to duplicate, and he fought to hold onto reality. He collapsed back onto the sofa, imagining Precious's laughter. "Precious," he murmured, "I'm not feeling well. I can't figure out what's wrong."

"It's going to be alright," Precious reassured him, kneeling and gently stroking his side. "Just recline and relax. It will pass before you know it. Here, let me help you with another drink."

Terry was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the evening's excitement and the unsettling feelings within. His heart fluttered with the prospect of romance, yet his mind was clouded with uncertainty and doubt. Accepting the drink, he pondered whether his nerves were undermining what could be a defining moment in his life. For Precious, it was indeed a defining moment—driven by a desire for freedom and control over her own life that didn't include sex work for the rest of her life. She wanted to ensure that her future with Ahab was secure and unencumbered by ties to Terry Bono or others who might interfere. She was determined to create a new beginning, where she and Ahab could live comfortably and pursue their dreams without looking back while Terry, feeling immobilized, sank into the sofa.

"Terry," she said, shaking him first gently, then more vigorously, but Terry remained unresponsive in his unconscious state. She lifted his eyelid; his eyeball didn't roll back, indicating he was alive. She checked his pulse—it was weak, but present; his heart was beating, indicating he was alive. Afterwards, she retrieved small plastic packets of a pink substance from a hidden box in her vanity drawer, and she brought them back to the living room.

Meticulously, she lined Terry's pockets with one packet and hid two packets in his wallet between a couple of bills, the rest of bills, several c-notes, she tucked in her bosom. She smelt his breath as she opened his mouth, rubbed her nose and kissed him anyway, before applying one packet of the substance to his tongue and the inside cheeks of his mouth. She stood up, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination as she carried out her plan. A sense of urgency gripped her, knowing that this was her chance to secure her future away from the life she desperately wanted to escape. Yet, beneath the adrenaline, a pang of guilt lingered, reminding her of the consequences of her actions toward a john on the verge of an overdose.

"That is how the police would perceive it," she remarked, smiling and folding her arms as she stood over Terry, who remained motionless with his startled eyes wide open.