Tarry Bennett

Tarry knew he didn’t have to, in fact his counsel had advised him against it. His address was enough; it was too risky to be seen supporting a Grandmaster so intimately, particularly after the recent conflicts.

But he felt like he should.

He was sitting in the morgue in Aspir where she had been taken after the attacks, waiting for the mortuary technician to return to let him into the viewing room. He half expected to see Alzira burst out from behind the crash doors. He could see it clearly even. She would laugh and ask what took him so long, telling him that it was all part of her master plan.

But that didn’t happen.

He nervously fumbled with the brim of his bowler cap. The mortuary technician came back and told him in a low voice that she was ready for viewing. He rose to his feet, feeling dread deep in the pit of his stomach.

But he followed the technician into the room nonetheless.

She lay on the gurney with a sheet covering her up to the top of her head. Her blue-grey feet poked out the other side of the sheet; a tag tied to one big toe was the only identifying item on her body. He was struck by how still she was and felt himself take a sharp inhale of breath.

He took a few steps closer and bent over slightly at the waist. The mortuary technician asked if he was ready to see her. He said he was but as the sheet was respectfully pulled back to just below her neck he realized that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Her mouth was parted and her eyelids were open a crack. The grey tinged skin was the worst part of all. It gave the appearance of a poor imitation of what she looked like. In life she was vivacious. She liked to observe the situations and watch them unfold around her but was always ready with a quip or a jab. In death he could scarcely reconcile that this vessel could’ve been such a lively person.

And yet, it was her, there was no doubt about it.

He stood back up rigidly and nodded. The mortuary technician pulled the sheet back up to cover her head. She walked him out and he didn’t spare a second glance back at the corpse on the gurney. It was her, and yet not her. He exited the building in utter silence, not wanting to say a word to anyone.

His car on the Aspir side was waiting for him out back and he wordlessly slid into the back seat. His driver began their journey back to the tunnel and Tarry stared out the window. The image of her face was burned into his mind and he tried to replace it in vain with memories of her while she was alive.

They hadn’t been friends per se, their positions were far too oppositional for something like that to be appropriate, but he did appreciate her. He would miss seeing her at the table. As much as she could drive him crazy with her ability to stir the pot she was clever and by far the most reasonable Grandmaster to deal with. He did have an ally in her despite the more recent drama that had unfolded before her untimely death.

He leaned his head against the backrest. “What had she known?” he thought to himself. It haunted him that her death carried so many secrets. He could not and would not believe that she had died for no reason. She had provided him with warnings, albeit cryptic ones, about his own life. Was his destiny to end up rigid and refrigerated in a locker in the morgue? Killed as a byproduct of a growing political conflict at the hands of enemies he hadn’t seen coming? He went cold at the thought.

Since her death he could feel himself growing paranoid. He saw enemies in every shadow and in the faces of every stranger he passed. He never had issues walking to and from his office and used to love to speak with constituents on the street. However, lately he’d been relying on security to move with him. He tended to leave the office on a variable schedule to limit the ability for someone to track his movements or predict his whereabouts.

His security was waiting for him at the tunnel and they escorted him through to the other side at the Central Tunnel Station in Occaigh. He kept his head down as he walked to the car waiting for him to complete the final leg of his journey. Crowds of protesters had largely dispersed since the attacks on the Guilds but he could never be certain if any large gatherings bore him ill will these days.

Fortunately, he made it to his penthouse without incident and for the first time that day he felt like he could breathe.

“Francine?” he called. The only response he got was silence. His mood further soured. Things had not been easy between them lately. She had been pulling away again. He couldn’t blame her; he had been around less than before. Even when he was home he struggled to connect with her.

He went to his office and poured himself a scotch. It was the one that Eli had pried from his hands a few short months ago when he was in the midst of a spiral. He gave a mirthless smirk and threw back his glass before pouring another. He knew he should thank him for saving it but yet again it was looking like the vintage would be wasted on him.

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He wondered if drinking would help him forget the image of Alzira’s lifeless face that was seared in his brain. Somehow he doubted it.

Tarry sat down at his desk and lit a cigarette. Groaning, he pressed his other palm to his forehead. His little adventure was not just ill-advised for the optics; he had a significant amount of work to catch up on. What was it for? Closure? Confirmation? He wasn’t sure anymore but he might come to regret it.

“Tarry,” a soft voice called from the doorway.

He lowered his hand to see his wife forlornly staring at him. His heart gave a clench; he knew that look.

“Hey,” he responded softly, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was home the whole time,” she said simply.

“Oh… Well, I called for you.”

“I’m sure you did,” she said, bitterness creeping into her voice.

For a moment, neither one of them spoke.

He took a swig of his drink, swilling it in front of him. “You’re disappointed with me.” It was a statement, not a question. He knew he hadn’t been a good partner but he didn’t have time or capacity to hash it out now.

She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. “I didn’t come here to fight,” a sharp edge rose to her voice.

“Then is there something you need?” he offered. He tried to sound amenable but knew he was failing.

“I suppose not,” she shrugged and turned to leave.

He watched her walk away and heaved a frustrated sigh and threw back the rest of his drink. Few of their interactions these days brought him any satisfaction. What were they even doing anymore? If every interaction just served to make each other miserable what was the point?

He picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number.

“Could you meet me at the office?” he asked, after a brief exchange of pleasantries, “I’ll be upstairs on the patio.”

----------------------------------------

“I know that look,” Eli suggested as he made his way onto the rooftop where Tarry was waiting.

Tarry shook his head, feeling aggrieved. He had his arms folded casually on the railing, a lit cigarette dangling from one hand. “I couldn’t stay there anymore. She doesn’t want anything to do with me but she doesn’t seem to want to leave,” he complained bitterly.

Eli stood beside him, surveying the skyline before them. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” he asked, looking bemused.

“You’re supposed to be on my side at the very least,” Tarry grumbled.

“Well I’m not,” Eli said matter-of-factly, plucking the cigarette from Tarry’s fingers and taking a drag, “You’re acting like a child.”

“Is there one person in my life who isn’t going to get on my back about something today?”

“Let me guess, she came at you with demands for your attention or something equally egregious?” Eli rolled his eyes and passed the cigarette back.

“No, she came to my office to start a fight,” Tarry said glumly.

“Oh do tell,” Eli waved him on.

Tarry thought back to the interaction and felt foolish. “It’s just… Never mind, you’d have to be there. I knew it was coming.”

Eli shook his head with a smirk.

“What?” Tarry asked warningly.

“You’re a shitty husband Tarry, but you hate being alone more than anything. Have you considered letting her off the hook?”

“I don’t want to end things!” Tarry snapped, feeling deeply scandalized.

“Right, right. So she’s the problem because she can’t accept you as you are, faults and all,” Eli shrugged.

“I called you here because I was hoping you’d make me feel better, not tell me how terrible of a person I am,” Tarry muttered, finishing the last of his cigarette.

“You didn’t come here to feel better, you came here to run away from your problems, like you always do,” Eli clarified, “And I didn’t say you were a terrible person.”

Tarry fell silent, biting the inside of his cheek. “I just… If she wanted to stay and work on it I’d be happy. But I know I have too much on the go right now that I can’t be the person she needs. I have a thousand and one tasks to take care of. There are problems of a global scale I can scarcely comprehend. I don’t have time to fix problems in my personal life right now. If she can’t accept that then there’s no future for us.”

“But you are putting the burden of ending the relationship squarely on her?” Eli clarified.

Tarry rubbed his face with his hands. “She’s the one who wanted to get back together in the first place. Nothing changed from my end.”

“No I daresay it never has,” Eli said simply, “You’re nothing if not consistent. It makes you a good politician. But I can’t imagine much has changed in the time Francine has been married to you. Or from the time you were married to Patrick. Or before him when you were married to Laura.”

Tarry said nothing.

“Look, I’ve known you for a long time,” Eli looked down the railing at him, “You didn’t bring me here to side with you blindly. If you want my advice the best thing you could do for your relationship right now is to take control and end it. She’d probably respect you more for it and you can end on good terms for once.”

Tarry sighed and looked down to the street below. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve always been a serial monogamist but I’m a mess. All I want is comfort without the work.”

Eli clapped him on the back. “And admitting it is half the struggle. Just promise me before you jump into bed with spouse number four, maybe get yourself into a better place first.”

Tarry felt a small smile forming on his face, the first true smile he had felt all day. “Yeah, I promise.”