“Help” by Lem Billings

Lacey’s neighbors seem extremely competitive.

(June 29th, 2024 – evening)

“I’m losing it.” says Lacey to Lem.

“You’re holding it together very well. You’ve not bought a thing. You’re drinking tea. You’re getting ready for bed. You’re doing very well.” says Lem to Lacey.

She smiles very slightly.

“I’m so tempted to buy that expensive eye serum.” says Lacey.

She suddenly notices that her vision in her left eye is bizarre.

“Oh! Oh my! …When I look off into the distance I can see, but up close…it’s all blurry.” says Lacey.

“Yes. I know.” he says smiling. “You’re getting closer to death. …And I can’t say I’m not looking forward to that.”

Lacey laughs. Smiles.

Joe Biden’s first wife falls over laughing. And no she wasn’t talking to Lem. She was simply making a joke to Lacey.

“Aww!” says Lacey.

“What’s bothering you?” says Lem.

“I feel trapped.” says Lacey. “Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes.” says Lem. “I’m going to have to be very cautious with what I say. …This isn’t the end, of what I’m about to say.

Buy the serum. It barely matters.

And that…right there…is the problem.” He thinks. “If you were uglier and poorer or lesser bred you’d be given more sympathy. If you were less unusually intelligent that’d be more relatable.

Just like how I’m expected to be gay because I acted gay and most people under the age of…100…struggle to understand why and how a man could be that confused…and edgy…you’re supposed to have it all figured out. You’re not supposed to be in love with a ghost. …You’re just as beautiful as Mrs. Muir though…and you did once think of calling yourself what?”

“Muirin.” says Lacey.

“Yes. That’s weird.

…Where did you come up with that name?” asks Lem.

“In downtown St. Paul in a building where there used to be an old movie theater. All alone. At night.” says Lacey.

“A movie theater. Where they very likely played The Ghost And Mrs. Muir.” says Lem. “Or was it somewhere else?”

Lacey thinks. “No!! It was in Pennsylvania.”

“Yes!

Where I was born. And where I’m buried.” says Lem,

“But…that name took on- Where was it?” says Lacey.

“Pennsylvania.” says Lem. He helps her remember,

“Oh right!” says Lacey.

Lacey buys the skincare products.

Later.

“How much did we spend?” asks Lem.

“A bit over $300.” says Lacey.

Lem laughs. “What did you buy?”

“A Sunday Riley Skin Serum, Nars liquid blush, an exfoliator and Sulwhasoo eye cream.” says Lacey. “Actually the Sulwhasoo is a set.”

“She’s right. Some people spend $25,000 a year on injections Lem.” says a reader.

He nods in understanding.

“But that’s a lot of money.” he says to Lacey.

“It’s nothing compared to what some women spend.” says Lacey.

“It is! But…it’s a lot.” says Lem.

“Compared to what some people spend it’s not much.” says Lacey.

“No. I know. I’m not mad. I told you to get it.” says Lem. “But sweetie…it’s more than what you think.”

“Isn’t that funny? …I don’t even know that anymore. If I ever did.” says Lacey.

“What did you used to think?” says Lem.

“That…$15 was extremely expensive for skincare.” says Lacey. “Which is…$30 today.”

“That’s not much. That’s cheap.” says Lem.

“Is it?” says Lacey.

Lem thinks. “Yeah. …I can still recall what people would have said…from the 1970’s…amongst friends. Gay men. About skincare. And yes…$30 is cheap.” He thinks. “Anything less than that is probably usually worthless.”

“What about honey? And baking soda-“ says Lacey.

“Baking soda! Yeah. …Works well on young skin maybe that’s prone to acne. I doubt anyone over 30 should be using it.” says Lem.

“I loved using it.” says Lacey.

“Yes. It worked well in your 20’s.” says Lem. “If never let you use it now. You’ve been thinking about it for years. But I’ve never let you. That’s one thing I can do that Satan can’t easily prevent.” says Lem, laughing. “Satan has not much to say about that.”

She thinks.

“Anyway…that’s not something I can resist. Your skin matters to me. I can see it.

…The thing is…we would have been able to afford it too. At your age. And you’d not need reading glasses yet…but that’s not relevant.

…You…have to understand that you’re privileged.” says Lem.

“When I first met our next door neighbors…she commented on my Birkenstocks. …That might have been passive aggressive bullying. …But I didn’t care.” says Lacey.

Lem thinks. “What if…I really was Emperor Constantine? And you were Scotia. If there’s reincarnation. …And if there isn’t this is rubbish literally, and purely a…useful tool. But what if…? Would you feel…so…indifferent?” says Lem, smiling.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

Queen Elizabeth II nods in understanding.

“There’s…merely a role to play.” says Lacey. “I’m the Pharaoh’s daughter. …That’s all. Simple. …And…it’s just…a thing, so to speak.” says Lacey. “With me there are formalities…but at its core…it’s just a role.”

“So the peasants aren’t washing their faces with milk. They’re possibly starving. …But it’s a role.” says Lem.

“Yes.

It’s not that I am not interested. I would have been. …I mean I left Egypt to start Scotland. …But…it’s a role. It’s just a job.” says Lacey.

Lem cries.

“Yes. You can’t reorganize all of Western Society.” says Emperor Constantine, whether there’s reincarnation or not. “Nor Egypt.”

“Exactly! …So…you keep up your appearances as is best. You have a role.” says Lacey.

“It’s a strategy.” says Constantine.

“Yes! It might save lives.” says Lacey.

“That scares me.” says Lem. “You…might…-

What-

So…even now…it’s an act of war.” says Lem.

“Carefully calculated.” says Lacey.

“What is an extravagance for you?” asks Lem.

“My Royal Crown Derby Green Panel tea set. …My extra Louis Vuittons. …My kitchen gadgets. …My antique ormulu table. …Some of the antiques in my house. …The Chanel nail polish and Hermes nail files. …None of the jewelry. Nor the perfume. …That’s psychological.” says Lacey.

“You think a lot.

So did and do I.

…Someone has to be in charge. Make a big show. Establish some sort of order.” says Lem.

“That’s what they say.” says Lacey.

“Our kids are our kids. Mine. Yours. Regardless.

Look…even if your heart is in the right place. They can’t buy that.” says Lem.

“They might not need to.” says Lacey.

“Yes. But they can’t.” says Lem.

“Too bad. …But they’re hopefully happy anyway.” says Lacey.

“Yes. But it’s fun to use.” says Lem.

She thinks.

“And effective.” says Lem.

“But it’s just skincare.” says Lacey.

“Yes! But it’s fun. And effective.” says Lem.

“What am I supposed to do?” asks Lacey.

“Just be aware they can’t.” says Lem.

“Lots of people can.” says Lacey.

“True. But…they can’t.” says Lem.

“Okay. Then what?” says Lacey, after much thought.

Lem laughs. “So they’re sad.”

“Then I’m sad with them.” says Lacey.

She thinks.

“I can’t not take good care of my skin.” says Lacey.

Lem thinks. “They’re sad.”

“I’m sad with them.” says Lacey.

“Then why show off?” asks Lem.

“As an act of war.” says Lacey.

Lem thinks.

“It’s a signal.” says Lem.

“Yes. It’s a subconscious nuclear bomb. I set it off years ago. …And it’s been incredibly effective. …I analyzed what it would potentially do and it’s been very effective so far. …People can’t handle when I have things nowadays.” says Lacey.

“Anything!?” asks her neighbor.

“Seems to be the case.” says Lacey.

“Why?” asks her neighbor.

“You obviously have to tell me.” says Lacey.

Later.

“I don’t think that’s going to work.

Lacey…let’s keep talking. But for now…let’s go to bed.” says Lem.