Still no word from T-Rex. I had my French-Canadian friend search the local papers for a death notice. No dice. He’s gone from the internet. I’ve searched for him in the places he can usually be found, and he was there, doing his thing, right up until the 26th of November.
If he’s not dead, he got busted by his wife and she took away his internet rights. Some men would laugh in your face if you tried to take away his internet rights…but, different relationships have different standards. I have no idea who ran the show at Chez T-Rex. The fact that he was unable to stop his wife from coming home early (assuming he’s telling the truth about that) suggests that maybe she was the dominant person in the relationship. I mean, you can bet that if, say, the Surgeon has been in his place, Mrs. T-Rex would have kept her ass in England until he was ready to have her back again, and it wouldn’t have taken days of cajoling, either.
I just wish that I knew what happened to him.
I tried to talk to Heinrich again and it became a fight. Not a mean fight, but still a bit of a fight.
“Are you drunk?” I asked when he called, because I knew he’d been to a party (yes, I Facebook-stalked him), and the last time he’d called me drunk was from an Aeroflot plane and it didn’t go well.
He said that he was fine, he’d just had a little cognac.
Now, I know that he didn’t want to have this important conversation over the phone, but I still had to ask the question that’s been eating me every since he had his disclosure: “Why didn’t you ever say anything? Why didn’t you tell me that you cared about me before?”
“Margo, no offense, but you have problems in your life, and problem men in your life, and I was waiting for you to resolve them. I was also waiting–in vain–for you to recognize me as a valuable person to you.”
“What do you mean, problems in my life? Sorry we can’t all be perfect and have careers appraising art for rich assholes like you!”
“Oh please! How could I integrate you into my greater life? Introduce you to my family as a dominatrix who works at a notorious bondage salon? That’s not normal, Margo! I could barely read your blog sometimes because I was worried about you going to meet some strange men in fucking hotel rooms! Your life was crazy! You are a talented woman with a good education! You owe more to the world than to be giving hand-jobs to perverts in that filthy dungeon! It’s a disgrace! I want to kill your parents for not giving you more pride!”
“I never gave anyone a hand-job! I never touched a penis unless it was to torture it! I did not have sex with my clients! And if they’re perverts, what are we, Herr Heinrich from Nuremberg with an O-Ring in his ceiling and an umbrella stand full of canes? How can you be such a hypocrite?”
“I enjoy sex, fine, but I do not hire prostitutes, it is true! It’s not normal behavior! Are you not listening? What if you had been arrested, like all those women in 2008? What, I should go down to the police station to get you out on a prostitution offense? It’s in the New York Post? Your teaching job, your reputation at university ruined by your dangerous compulsion!
And these men! How do you think it felt for me to watch you throw your love away on these pieces of shit who do not respect you! That Surgeon was even worse than the pathetic liar who stole his neighbor’s bird! He had no respect for you at all! He comes to your house and rapes you in your own bed, and you do not even go to the police, and you still had feelings for him! I would have had him arrested on the spot! Infatuated with that raping Jew! If you had told me at the time, I would have killed him myself! Now, look at him! No punishment! No consequences! On to the next one, just like that ugly seducer in France! If I was his wife, I would poison his tea!”
“I can love whomever I want! You never said anything to me! I never thought you were interested in me! I thought you thought I was a loser!”
“You live in poverty, then you fix it! You’re more intelligent than most of the people I work for! That’s another thing I hated about that Surgeon! I would die of disgrace before I would let a woman I supposedly ‘loved,’ a woman who had devoted herself to me they way you did to him, live the way you do, and make all of these crazy decisions! When he knew you had a problem with the drink, did he send you to rehab, this millionaire? No! He plied you with drugs and drink, used you for fucking and God-knows-what-else, used you for the satisfaction of his sadistic urges, and then ignores you while your life gets worse! If he loved you, was a real partner to you with an invested interest, you would not have been able to hide that you were working in that dungeon with the perverts!”
I was starting to cry. “I’m sorry! Don’t be mad at me!”
“I am not angry with you! I am frustrated! I am angry at the people who exploit you!”
“Heinrich…is it true that you hate Jews? T-Rex said that you hated him because he is Jewish.”
“Well, of course, he would say that, wouldn’t he? What a victim. Of course he would say that my hatred had to do with prejudice, and not to do with his abhorrent behavior. To answer your question: I like Jews just fine. They pay my salary.”
“But what about the dagger on your desk?” I gotta tell you the truth: that dagger’s been eating at me.
He sighed. “Must we have this discussion over the telephone? It belonged to my great-Uncle. The Reichsarbeitsdienst were a labor army. Arms and weapons are a part of all uniforms around the world. There is no need to make a meal of this.
“Now, when can you come to me? I want to see you, Margo. I think that we owe it to each other to have this out in person.”
“Ha! So after that debacle with T-Rex, you want me to travel across the country and stay in a hotel room by myself if things don’t work out.”
“I will take care of everything. I am not going to push myself on you. There will be no financial risk to you. T-Rex did not even pay you for your lost wages, did he? That figures. That does not surprise me at all.”
His voice brightened: “If you come before Christmas, we can go and see the Tree!”