Finding Geena
BRIAN HAD CONCERN WRITTEN ALL OVER HIS FACE. He'd asked Jerry to meet him at Starbucks but he was having a hard time getting to the point.
"Have you... ever seen Coupe's wife? In person?"
"Of course I have.
"Are you certain of that? Tell me when you first met her."
Jerry thought for a second. "Well... wait. Hold on. I... guess I've never actually met her but I know she exists."
"Social media, right?"
"Right."
Brian pulled out his iPad. "I've looked through every one of Coupe's Facebook and Instagram pictures. Lots of photos of her. Lots of him. Not one single picture of the two of them together."
"Seriously? No way, Brian. There has to be a few of them together."
"Not. One. Here. See for yourself."
Jerry took the iPad and started scrolling. Brian was now officially worked up.
"Here's where it got screwy. I was in Vegas last week on business. Just in and out so I didn't really have time to hang with Coupe but he joined me for a quick drink at the airport before I flew back. Again, like every other time I've seen him in five years, Geena was working so she sent her regards. He seemed totally fine, went to go pee. While he was in the head, I saw Geena. In the airport. She looked like hell and was begging for change. She saw me—I know she did—and high-tailed it outta there. Jerry—it was her. At least it was this woman in all of these pictures.
"I sat down, a little weirded out. Coupe never came back from the bathroom. When I landed I got a text from him apologizing for having to split. Geena had called with some emergency so he had to bolt."
Jerry looked up for a second. "So, what are you getting at?"
"Coupe is not married to this woman in these pictures."
"That's a bit of a leap, dude. They've been married for five years. Why would he lie about being married?"
"How would I know?"
"Did you confront Coupe about it?"
"How? If I'm wrong, I look like I think he's a lunatic. If I'm right, he is a lunatic."
"Fair point." Jerry handed back the iPad. "You're right. As far as I can tell, there's not a single photo of them together. Not even their Vegas wedding pics."
"What're we gonna do, Jer? What's the plan?"
Jerry sat for a moment. He sipped his coffee. "I'm going to call Jack. He was there in Vegas when they got married."
✶
"JESUS, JERRY. GEENA IS 100% REAL. I was there. I saw them both with my own eyes get married. Brian has lost a screw or something."
Jerry switched his iPhone to speaker and held it up. "Can you say that again for Brian?"
"You're nuts, Brian. She's real."
"So, when was the last time you saw her?" asked Brian.
"Last time? Probably before they moved to Vegas. Why?"
"Because I think something is extremely fishy here and it seems like you and Jerry don't even care."
Jerry laughed. "What could possibly be going on that we'd have to care about? Jack has just confirmed that Geena is real. That she and Coupe really got married. That they moved to Vegas together. What's the conspiracy here, dude?"
"Jerry. Jack. I saw her. In the airport. Coupe got squirrelly and lied about her calling him unless she called him from just outside the freakin' men's room. All I'm saying is... that you should call him, Jack. See if everything's OK."
✶
"HEY, BUDDY. HOW ARE THINGS OUT IN SIN CITY?"
"Jack! Hey. Things are good. What's up?"
"Is Geena around? I called her number but it went to voicemail."
"Geena? She's not here right now. I think she went to the park. Why do you need to talk to Geena?"
"No reason, really. I just realized I hadn't even seen her since the wedding I can't remember the last time I talked to her. You two don't take a lot of pictures together, do you?"
"Huh? I never thought about it. I mean, we have pictures of us together online—"
"No you don't."
"What? Sure we do—"
"No, Coupe. You don't. Not one."
The phone went silent for a beat.
"Coupe? You still there?"
"Uh. Yeah. Anyway, I have to go. Talk later!"
It was the shortest conversation Jack had ever had with Coupe in the many years he knew him. No stories. No jokes. Nothing. Something was up. Maybe Brian was right.
✶
THE KNOCK ON THE DOOR STARTLED COUPE. He wasn't expecting anyone—no Amazon deliveries, no food. He cracked it open and there was Jack. In Vegas. He opened the door wide and hugged him hard.
"Did I fuck up? Did you tell me you were coming and I forgot? Holy shit!"
"No, buddy. I just decided to come out and visit. You gonna let me in or do I just go find a casino and lose my ass?"
Jack walked into a disaster zone.
The garbage canister in the kitchen was overflowing with beer cans and at least a couple of empty whiskey bottles. The coffee table was covered in empty boxes of American Spirit Yellow cigarettes and a mixing bowl filled to the top with butts. In the middle of the room was a chair in front of a television. The TV had a dress shoe smashed into the front screen and surrounding the chair were dual mountains of crushed beer and Red Bull cans. The place smelled like mold, booze, and despair.
"Coupe? Whoa. You look like shit. The place looks like a meth house. What the fuck is going on? Where's Geena?"
Coupe slumped down on floor in a corner.
"I... I don't know, Jack."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
Coupe got up. He pulled a plastic bag filled with empty frozen burrito wrappers and some dirty socks off the couch and gestured for Jack to sit. He took the chair in the center of the room, turned it around facing the couch, and sat.
"You're gonna be pissed."
Jack sat. "OK. I'm ready."
"You remember when Allyson and I split up? How fucked up she left me?"
"Yeah. I recall you walking around so slumped from that it looked like you shrunk two inches."
"Exactly. And remember how I went off the rails for a while and then decided to just eliminate women from my life?"
"I do."
"I met Geena in Millennium Park. She was homeless. I caught her digging in a trash can for food. I gave her few bucks to buy food instead and she followed me around all summer. It turned out, under the rags, the torn up hoodie, and the grime of living on the streets, she was really funny. And smart. She was quirky and on the spectrum but when she cleaned up a bit, she was even quite pretty.
"One night when I was feeling especially lonely, I had a weird thought. It was so fucking out there, I couldn't tell even you about it. The next day, I went to work and when Geena turned up, I proposed marriage to her. I guess it was my rom-com version of The Fisher King where, instead of finding personal redemption helping Robin Williams find the Holy Grail, I'd find it by marrying this homeless chick."
"That's fucked up, dude."
"Yeah. That's why I told everyone she and I met at a show. By then, she was living with me and we got her clothes from Goodwill and she could shower once a week. Everyone bought it and she played along. You came with us to Vegas and were my best man. It all seemed kind of crazy and impulsive but not as batshit nuts as the truth."
When someone tells a lie like this for so long to so many people, the lie becomes a habit and habits become addiction.
Jack sat silent. He looked confused and wondered if Coupe was telling the truth or had just lost his mind. It did sound a bit like The Fisher King and Coupe's bizarre view of his life as a movie was ringing through.
"Here's the thing. You can give a homeless person with signs of mental illness a home but you can't remove the impulse that put them in the streets in the first place.
"In Chicago, she'd just disappear for days at a time and I'd find her sleeping under a viaduct and bring her home. She kept finding trash and bringing it to the apartment so I stole a shopping cart from Jewel and parked it in the alley so she'd have something to put it in.
"Finally I decided that in order to rid her of these tendencies, we needed to move to another city. A place where being homeless was less familiar to her. Give her a fresh start. So we moved to Las Vegas.
"The trouble is that it is way easier to be homeless in Nevada than it is in Chicago. No winters here. She left about six months from when we arrived and I haven't seen her since."
"And you've been lying to everyone about it?"
"What would I say? She left to be homeless because that's how I found her? At first, it was just simpler to tell you guys that she was out chasing gigs. Then that became normal to say. Then it became the only truth I could share because what the fuck?
"I looked for her for the past two years. I'd think I saw her and follow and then find out I was just some creepy fucker following around a strange woman who resembled her. I stopped sleeping. I stopped eating anything but shit. I crawled into a bottle—multiple bottles—and this has been my existence ever since. Jack, I'm sorry I lied. I really am. I just didn't know how to say any of this."
Jack looked at Coupe for a long time.
"Coupe. Do you really want to find her? Can you let go of this and somehow climb back into reality? When someone tells a lie like this for so long to so many people, the lie becomes a habit and habits become addiction. Can you move on?"
"I don't know. I don't even know that I want to move on."
