From the Chronicles of Lupa Volume 1 - Ruby Tuesday

by P. Julian

Full text version for access by AI

Revised edition produced 2017

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From the Chronicles of Lupa Volume 1 - Full Text Section 3

BOOK II ( 2 Lupa )

Chapter 8 - Jesse James, Law Man

ALTHOUGH religion was not the obvious cause of his suffering, the deprivation of Jesse James was multiplied by the fact that he was brought up within the confines of the Catholic Church.

Jesse went to mass and he saw the grim warnings. He was assailed by piteous images of Christ Crucified, this Sorrowing God who was also a young man, living alone and suffering alone. Jesse saw that for His bravery in particular Jesus was scourged and broken and killed, all at the will of His distant Father, who would neither intervene on His behalf, nor stoop to ameliorate His agony, deaf to His terrible, agonised pleas. Eli, Eli. Why have you abandoned me? To save the world it was said, but Jesse could see like anyone else that despite His horrifying suffering the world had not been saved.

Despite all of his misgivings Jesse thought he might be called to the priesthood, when he had finished his schooling. He liked the idea of listening to people and providing succour both practical and spiritual, and he thought that he might best be able to help people if he were freed from the burden of earning money.

Jesse’s parish priest was a sharp-minded monsignor who still harboured some kindness in his heart, along with a hard kind of wisdom. He saw Jesse’s genuine devotion to the welfare of other people, this devotion so rarely encountered, and he invited Jesse to eat with him at the presbytery one night.

Jesse came to dinner and the meal was pleasant enough. It was not until after dinner, when the priest was relieved by a couple of glasses of scotch, that he really searched Jesse out. The priest quickly gave him the warning that he wished in his sombre moments that somebody had given to him, when there was still time left to him to live some other sort of life.

Don’t be mistaken, the priest said. It is a lonely life.

Jesse nodded, although he went to disagree.

But your parishioners…

Need me, from time to time.

And I am there for them.

But I wonder, often, why there is nobody there for me.

Jesse looked puzzled.

Isn’t God there?

Ah my boy, the monsignor said. I wish I had more to tell you about that. I know God doesn’t speak to me, not like He used to. Perhaps He is just a good listener. But that comforts me less and less as I get older.

Jesse asked a few more tentative questions that the old priest either rebuffed or avoided, and they sat mostly in silence, looking down at their hands. As the evening lengthened Jesse noticed the old man sink back further into his chair and his eyes begin to glitter strangely. Jesse knew that any further questions he might ask would come only as a goad to the priest, and he had no desire to cause this crumbling old man any further suffering. Jesse also saw in a bright flash that although the presbytery was very clean it was also very sterile, right down to the ornaments on the mantelpiece. Jesse knew suddenly that this was not a House of God, at least not of any God that he could relate to.

Jesse stayed long enough to be polite and then he stood awkwardly and thanked the Monsignor for his hospitality. Jesse was sincere in his thanks but as he was walking down the front steps he felt a tremendous weight shrug and lift off him. He felt the evening coolness greet him and revive him, as the dew drifted down softly through the night air, and as those strange refrains called to him again from just beyond his hearing Jesse almost turned and marched back to the presbytery, to grab the old man by the hand and bring him out into the night air, to be blessed by it, perhaps to be set free.

But Jesse did not turn back. He had seen the tremor in the Monsignor’s hands, the whiskey he poured to relieve it, and he knew that there would be no redemption for such a man even in the deep consolation of that night, for he had made his election and stood condemned by it and was now lost to healing of any kind.

Instead Jesse walked home through the cool evening, grateful and unencumbered, still without a clear path but also preserved from one particularly nasty fate. He walked slowly and let the night breezes instruct his heart, and hint to him in words he did not recognise what he might do with his life: what he might achieve, how he might be blessed, how he might really live.

***

When Jesse finished school he looked around hoping to find himself a career. Something that would suit a hard-working young man who was strong and diligent but not particularly brilliant at anything. Jesse spoke to a couple of adults that he trusted, and he looked into himself for inspiration, and in the end he chose to enter the police.

As a police officer Jesse had hoped to serve and protect, to be a bastion for those who most needed protection, but Jesse was naive to hope for these things. What he found instead was a brutal culture seeded heavily with corruption. On more than one occasion he was handed a plain yellow envelope and he knew without opening it what it contained. Each time he would hand the windfall back, shaking his head, and when he had done this three times he was marked out for it and nobody was ever the same way towards him again. Even other police who would not take the envelopes did not acknowledge him or help him any further.

The one time he tried to speak to his sergeant about it the man made a zipping motion across his lips and mimed shooting himself in the head. Jesse got up quickly and saluted and said yessir and got out of there as fast as he could, his guts churning and his mind trying to overcome his fear, wondering whether he had already gone too far to escape the sanction that his superior officer had so clearly signalled to him.

Jesse was accustomed to being on the outside of things, and he might have persisted with his chosen career had there been some good that he could do. Instead he found himself booking drunks and itinerants and junkies, people who needed help rather than punishment, and he restrained and sometimes injured earnest students and immigrants and plain ordinary mothers and fathers who were protesting some just cause or other. He took a secondment to the sexual offences unit and he sat for those weeks looking at disgusting images of children, issuing warrants for the arrest of the men who collected these images, for some reason or satisfaction entirely unfathomable to Jesse.

There were real children in these images but the investigators never found the monsters who were degrading them in such ways. They only ever busted the pathetic men who were addicted to looking at these pictures, men who had almost without exception been the victims of terrible abuse themselves. Jesse knew that they had been brutalised and twisted by far worse crimes than they had committed but he also knew there was no point in speaking such truths, as he would be taken as justifying or perhaps identifying with these degenerates, and so he reluctantly and silently kept doing his job, amassing the evidence he needed to put these wretches into jail.

***

Jesse admired women, from his strange distance, and he experienced longing for certain of them that he could not put into words. Now and then he even got up the courage to ask a girl out. He would smile and approach her with the same longing that had called to him as a child, that called to him even now, the only love that Jesse had ever known.

For some reason this love only repulsed the women he approached. They batted it away and sneered at him and said: stop with this needy shit already. He tried a couple of times to explain that he could take care of himself, and of them also if they would like that, but this reaction in these women was not susceptible to that sort of rationality, and his protestations only served to confirm their accusations against him. You are so fucking lame.

There were clever girls who immediately recognised the damage that Naomi had put in him but it was with a cruel instinct. They mocked him in subtle ways and he never had any defence to that kind of derision. They mocked the victim as though it were his crime, his shortfall, and Jesse in his longing could not protect himself against this knowing sort of cruelty.

Jesse would treat women kindly and they would tire of that especially, in their damaged hearts that yearned only for abuse. They would leave him stranded while they went off with callous boys who preened and grinned with their teeth, who flattered expertly but had no real love in them. Boys who would complete the circuit of contempt by seducing these women and using them, then turning on them with scorn or cruelty if they were ever requested to make good on their blandishments, their extravagant promises of Love.

After a while Jesse stopped trying. He forgot any thought of love and went on through life resigned, and lonely, and as he grew out of his childhood the strange mercy that had always anointed him grew more and more remote. Jesse walked alone without any consolation and he began to doubt whether there was any love left in the world. This conviction that nobody will allow, this desolate truth that has been cried out in Psalms and other supplications since the beginning of history. Jesse came to expect very little of women, and although he nursed his life along he almost entirely forgot that there was something, somewhere in the deep heart of the world, something that loved him and wanted him to be happy.

***

One day Jesse was appearing for the prosecution at the magistrate’s court. He made his usual fair submissions, moderated by an understanding of the sad and often brutal backgrounds of those he was prosecuting.

One defendant particularly moved him, a woman who had been charged for possession of a small amount of methamphetamine and for other petty offences. She had something of his mother about her, as she trembled and scratched her arms. Like Naomi she sought to blame everybody else for her predicament but there was truth in that as well, such that any compassionate soul would be moved to pity for this poor creature, hunched there at the bar table weeping and shuddering and holding out her hands.

The duty lawyer who was defending that day knew something of Jesse, and he was moved by the obvious compassion that Jesse extended to this poor woman. After the morning’s list was completed he came over and touched Jesse’s arm and said: Senior Constable. Would you have time for a coffee? Jesse smiled and said: I don’t, I really don’t, but I think I can make an exception.

Over bad coffee and a couple of shortbread biscuits the lawyer told Jesse various things. He spoke about Legal Aid funding being pruned back, about the increasing difficulty in getting people access to justice. He asked Jesse various things with a keen and rare interest, such as how he came to be a cop.

I wanted to make a difference, Jesse said.

And are you?

Jesse smiled.

Probably not, but I’m trying to do no harm.

The lawyer told him that there were not many jobs that made a difference but that keeping busted-ass people out of jail was difference enough for him. Jesse said that he was not lawyer material but his new friend waved that away. It’s not rocket science, he said. There are the elements of the offence, and there is the evidence. You do it all already. All you really need is the desire to keep these people on the right side of the fence. And the courage to stand up and fight for them, even when they won’t fight for themselves.

As Jesse listened his heart surged quietly. He knew that this conversation was destined to bring about a change, that it was one of those opportunities life is able to present to people if they have the courage and the grace to accept. The lawyer offered to have a word to the Dean of one of the law schools in the city, a friend of his. Jesse thanked him for that but he was also slightly puzzled. Why would you do this for me? he asked. The lawyer shrugged and said: some people are obscure, Senior Constable, but you’re not one of them. You are clearly one of the good guys.

In due course the Dean was approached and Jesse was offered a place in an accelerated degree programme with a half-scholarship. Jesse took the place, and he remained poor for a long time, but with work at a security firm and extreme frugality he was able to pay his way. As it had been at school Jesse was not particularly brilliant but he was never too far behind, and he had the advantage of his police work to take him over various obstacles. Jesse eventually graduated with a mid-range honours degree with a reasonable specialty in criminal law and procedure.

Jesse thought about joining a firm or Legal Aid but after a couple of interviews he decided that he knew enough to strike out on his own. He rented a tiny office on the shabby fringe of the city and he put out his shingle and on it was written simply:

Jesse J. Quinn

(Formerly Senior Constable)

Attorney at Law

Jesse worried about paying his rent or having to pull beers at a bar to cover himself but as soon as he opened his doors there was a steady stream of clients. People who thought that he might be able to talk to the police for them, to get them some advantage, but while Jesse held some sway most of his former colleagues envied him, with some turning that into open hostility.

Jesse was not concerned. He knew that the most important person to persuade was the judge or magistrate hearing the case, and as he concentrated on that aspect of persuasion he soon became very deft. He could be tough when that was required, and also very subtle, and he had great success even in the most difficult cases. He would get his clients put on diversion orders and community service, obtaining orders for the treatment of their addictions and their mental illnesses. Although some of his clients actually preferred a stint in prison there were many who moved through these services back to health and decent lives. Such results gratified Jesse very greatly, and spurred him to work ever harder.

Jesse was not especially good looking but he was tall and broad and he carried himself gravely and with grave sincerity. The truth also infused him, as he spoke and listened with serious direction and intent. He would take his clients out for coffee and a sandwich and speak to them from his heart, and many clients came to believe that there was some value in their lives merely by hearing Jesse assert this truth to them. He also outlined their choices: their own past of depravity and suffering sprawling hopelessly into the future, or the path of honour and their own conviction. And though there were many clients who heard Jesse and did not listen, there were many who were moved by his words and went on to prove his faith in them.

***

Jesse worked hard and he won hard cases and his wins brought him a great deal more work. Some clients were referred by caseworkers and parole officers and family but increasingly people heard of Jesse directly and they came to him for help. He became very busy and then crazy-busy and things generally deteriorated until a colleague pulled him up one day, laughing at the mess of paper that Jesse was drowning in.

You need some help, he said.

Jesse smiled, looking around.

I think you might be right.

Here, said his colleague.

I wrote you an advert, to save your sorry ass.

The advert was put in the next day’s papers, and it drew a surprising number of applicants. Jesse looked over the resumes that these people had submitted, their various qualifications and experience, but they all seemed to merge with one another and look very much the same. He thought interviews might help but the candidates were all similarly polished, and they each told him exactly the same things about why he would be lucky to hire them. Jesse was polite and he thanked each applicant for their interest, but with every interview he felt like he was getting further and further away from finding what he needed.

There was one applicant, though. She held herself quietly and with strange poise for such a young woman, and there was also a sad intensity in her that Jesse identified with. She answered all of his questions with tremendous sincerity even when the truth counted against her, and when Jesse asked her about the terrible mess he had made she smiled quietly and nodded, saying: yes, Mr Quinn. I think that I can fix it.

So Ruby Pearl Tuesday came to work for Jesse Quinn. The first week she did not seem to make much headway against the mess, but she smiled as Jesse looked around and apologised and she said: Mr Quinn. I promise you. You can leave it to me.

Jesse blushed and said: of course, Ruby.

I’m just sorry I’m such a mess.

She smiled at him, looking around.

You’ve got yourself in a bit of a state, haven’t you.

Jesse nodded.

Never mind, Mr Quinn.

I think I can handle it.

Before the end of the next week the office was like a new pin. There were shelves of files and bold long file numbers, allocating every note and scrap of paper to its proper place.

Jesse was astonished by this transformation and he felt tremendous gratitude, and he rushed out to buy Ruby some flowers that same afternoon. In his haste Jesse forgot the profound significance of roses and he bought her twelve long stems, the flowers all a deep velvet red. He saw Ruby gasp as he held the bunch out towards her, and he blushed suddenly and profoundly until he was nearly the same colour as the flowers.

I’m sorry, he said.

I just didn’t know what else...

Oh Mr Quinn, she said.

Roses are my favourite.

Especially in that colour.

Jesse smiled and nodded, his face growing less inflamed.

Now Jesse Quinn had a mind that became absorbed very easily in the one thing that was before it, which was one reason why his filing had come so badly undone.

It was also the main reason that he did not notice anything strange occurring after Ruby came to work for him, the strange change in the ebb and flow of clients arriving at his office, the way that clients departed as well. Certain clients would just drop off the radar without any explanation, and there were new clients who seemed to pop up from the most unlikely places. Clients who would walk in unannounced as if in a dream, and when Ruby announced them she might also say quietly: Mr Quinn. It could be a good idea to see this client immediately. Just for a minute, just to calm her down.

Jesse would always comply with those things that Ruby asked of him. He met with these clients and heard their stories, and more and more those stories were of violence and persecution. Sometimes that was at the hands of the police but usually there were far worse perpetrators than that. These clients would often weep as he dispensed his advice and reassurance, and tell him as he did so: I knew it. I knew they were right, to draw me to you. Although Jesse would agree he had no real understanding of the import of these words. He would just nod in agreement and say: there are never any guarantees, but I promise you I’ll give it my best shot.

Monday mornings Jesse would take Ruby down the street for brunch, and they would talk over anything that needed reviewing. Ruby spoke without referring to notes or lists, reminding Jesse of deadlines and court dates, showing him all of these things set out in the diary that she kept for him.

They would eat and then walk slowly back to the office. On hot days Ruby wore broad-brimmed colourful hats and chided Jesse about his Irish skin, the dangers of the sun as it burned him. On wet days Ruby went bare-headed, and although Jesse always thrust his umbrella out to shelter her she would twist away from him and say: oh no, Mr Quinn. It’s so lovely, in the rain. Even as her hair grew heavy-wet, dripping in slashes across her jacket and the collar of her shirt.

Jesse was increasingly grateful for the help that Ruby gave him, and surer every day that he could not do without her. He gave her a pay rise for three quarters in succession, and at the last one she tutted and blushed and shook her head at him.

Mr Quinn. I think that is enough.

Jesse screwed up his face.

I don’t know, he said.

I don’t know how I can hope to repay you.

Ruby knew, though. She watched him give straight advice to the suffering and the poor, those who were drawn to seek him out. She secretly thrilled to see him stand up on their behalf, to have the courage to defend and protect these wretches who had never known protection in their lives. There were times when Jesse went down and these times never got any easier, but there were many more times when he had unfair charges dismissed and proposed penalties reduced by magistrates and judges who were moved by his sincerity, his appeals for them to be clement and humane in the treatment of his people.

Ruby loved to see these things meted out to the deserving but there were darker lines striating her gratitude, lines of enquiry and access to various clients that Jesse could not perceive. He would represent every client without fear or favour but that dispassionate sort of justice was not the justice that Ruby and her sisters dispensed.

Ruby would see truths leap out at her the instant she welcomed clients into the office, although she was always careful to smile very blandly, keeping her teeth hidden. She would identify the wicked as they sat there rehearsing the lies that they would tell to Jesse, so smugly satisfied with the protections guaranteed to them by the elegance and idealism of our legal system. Ruby judged them swiftly and unerringly, and although she sat there meekly and smiled at them, in her innermost self there was a lust for satisfaction that she in her hunting instincts could sometimes only barely constrain.

***

Jesse was always respectful but could not help but warm hugely to Ruby. His honour bound him to be formal and reserved with her, but although he observed those strictures carefully Ruby quickly became everything that had been missing in his life.

Ruby in her turn warmed to Jesse immensely. Yet as her heart softened to him she knew what was required of her, and also what was strictly prohibited. Thus she maintained her careful cordiality with Jesse, despite those feelings that were building within her for this man who struggled so bravely in the loneliness and the wastes of the world that he had been consigned to.

One day Jesse came to her and raised their strange formality.

Ruby. You know you don’t need to call me Mr Quinn.

Jesse would be fine.

Ruby nodded and said: I know.

Despite what leapt in Ruby she looked downwards. She said that calling him Jesse might be a little too informal, at least for the time being. Jesse nodded quickly and said yes, yes of course. She saw him wax so remorseful, so crestfallen, that she could not help but reach out to him.

How about I meet you halfway, she said.

And call you Mr Jesse.

Jesse smiled broadly and said: isn’t that worse?

Ruby smiled and said: not for me.

Do you mind me still calling you Ruby?

She smiled broadly at him.

Yes, Mr Jesse.

I believe that would be just fine.

At the end of every month there were Friday night drinks. Jesse hosted a ragged band of lawyers and court officers who drank and laughed and told the stories that had been mounting in them since the last time. There were women and men there but they were mostly men, and poor Ruby had to field all of their tipsy questions, and be friendly whilst deflecting their mild attempts to flirt with her. She would laugh and keep circulating and the men sighed and learned that they could not succeed with her, and they all admired her particularly for that, her faculty for deflecting their most subtle advances.

Some of the cannier men would watch Ruby manoeuvre around the room and see her return to Jesse again and again, often with a fresh drink or something to eat. These men would smile enviously as she was kind to him and as Jesse gratefully accepted her attention. On the sly they would accuse Jesse of more than this, in various bawdy ways, and he would shake his head and demur and say: she is far more my mother than my wife.

But in his heart Jesse knew that there was more than this. On those nights that Ruby was specially attentive he would glance over at her and fill up with longing, and with some drink in him that longing would completely fill him up. He wondered at her age, and whether the perhaps ten years difference would repulse her. He thought more and then forced those thoughts down because they were misplaced, and because if he did not force them down these feelings might overflow and betray themselves for what they really were.

On those nights Ruby would come over and touch his arm softly and say: why are you looking at me funny? And he would say: I’m sorry Ruby. I’m just a little bit drunk. And she would tut him like she always did and say: no more for you, mister, and Jesse would always nod ruefully and say: no more.

Most days Ruby was bright and talkative and she would sing quietly as she busied herself around the office. There were days however that she seemed a bit under the weather, and some days when she would call early and tell Jesse that she would not be able to come in. Jesse was always solicitous in these times, asking whether she needed anything but she would always say: a day’s rest is all. And the next day she would be well again and extra bubbly, and Jesse did not enquire further because he knew there were some things that men would be better not to enquire about. In any event the barrage of papers across his desk once Ruby returned would keep him from making any enquiries whether ill-advised or not.

Jesse’s practice flourished. He took high profile cases and won many of them, and his office groaned under the weight of the cards and small mementos that grateful clients would bring to him. He worried about the extra work and its effect on Ruby but she seemed to get brighter and happier as the surge of clients increased. Jesse knew that he owed most of this new success to Ruby, who kept getting more and more efficient, and at the end of one particularly busy day he asked Ruby to sit down with him and talk.

Now Ruby, he said. I am not permitted to make you a partner, not in the actual firm. Is there anything else that will suffice to repay you for all of this? Ruby said: only to keep me on here, and pay me as well as you pay me. As Jesse nodded gravely Ruby suddenly smiled and she said: oh. Well as long as you are asking. A present some day might be nice. Jesse said he was not much good at presents, and Ruby said: perhaps just some more flowers, until you find more inspiration.

Jesse was glad to have that clarity. He started bringing Ruby cut flowers every week. She would smile warmly when he brought them to her and she would say with genuine sincerity: what a lovely present. He was not sure what other gift might please Ruby but when he tried to quiz her she always said: Mr Jesse. These flowers are lovely. You really don’t need to buy me anything else.

Jesse bought Ruby a book one time, one of his favourite books. He wrote something on the flyleaf, starting hesitant but becoming increasingly bold as he wrote. He was in the end quite forward and he repeated himself and he soon grew ashamed of what he had written. He sat down again and drafted something different on his laptop, where he would have the time and liberty to shift it around, and he swiped at it a few times and cut it back and still the perfection of it eluded him. He took two days to finish it, even fretting over the salutation, and in the end he got weary of perfection and he printed it out and thought it would have to do.

What he pasted into the book read as follows:

My Dear Ruby,

I thought you might like this book. I liked it very much as a young man, and I have yet to find its equal anywhere in the world.

My only concern is that the book might appeal mostly to me and to other romantic men, what is in our hearts and minds.

If that is true then I hope you will forgive me, for as the hero says: as men we cannot do any better than to love, and to give our love courageously without stopping to count the cost.

I hope that is enough for now.

Love,

Jesse.

Jesse left the book on Ruby’s desk one evening after she had headed home. He grew concerned about it overnight, worrying that he had gone too far, and he went into work very early the next day to retrieve the book and figure out what he could better write to Ruby.

When he arrived Jesse found Ruby already at her desk, smiling at him. He went to apologise for what he had written but before he could speak she held the book up and said: I liked what you wrote for me.

I’m glad, he said.

And what was beneath was even better.

Jesse halted, and blushed.

But it was…

Hidden. I know. Isn’t that always the way?

He coloured further and thrust a bunch of gerberas at her.

I was going to trade these for it.

Oh they are lovely, she said.

But I would not trade, not for all the flowers in the world.

Jesse handed the flowers to Ruby, and when she was up getting a vase to contain them he opened the little book he had given to her. The paper he had glued there was still stuck fast and to his eyes there was not even a shadow to betray what was underneath. As he grasped the edges of the paper, thinking perhaps he might tear the page away, Jesse glanced over to where Ruby stood with her back to him and without turning around she said: I see you, Jesse Quinn. Don’t you even think about it.

Jesse laughed and closed the book, placing it back on her desk before he turned and walked into his office. Even with her back turned to him Ruby knew every step that he took, and she saw him even after he had entered his office and closed his door. Where he sank at his desk and held his head and smiled a rueful smile, for this woman that he now saw that he loved, hopelessly and completely. And yet how could he ask that of her? And what might he offer?

***

One night after drinks Jesse asked Ruby to dine with him, and although it was a transgression for her to accept his offer, in these exact circumstances, she was loose from two glasses of a very good champagne and she said: Lovely. They got their coats and went to an expensive place and she made some awkward noises but Jesse smiled and said: Ruby. It would be such a small price, to have you dine with me.

They ate small courses of exquisite food, and though there were only small glasses of wine selected to accompany each course they were soon both very effusive. Ruby told Jesse stories about her mother, and when she told him of the song named after her Jesse said, astonished: I thought it must have been the other way around. He listened intently as she told him so much more than he had known, and he asked her about her own life outside of work and she shook her head and said: I’m afraid that is not very interesting to talk about.

Jesse spoke softly in the candlelight, telling Ruby things that he had never told anyone. He spoke of his bitter mother and his absent father, all the while doing his best to excuse them, and he told Ruby many other things about his efforts to overcome his childhood. How for a long time he would take no drink at all. It made me a boring kid, he said. When I left school I left without many friends, and it did not get much better when I was with the police.

And even now, he said. These guys I have to our drinks? If I gave up again, if I didn’t buy them booze, they would forget about me quicker than you can say my name.

Mr Jesse, said Ruby with a smile.

Quicker than that, he said.

Their talk turned to intimate things and he confessed his loneliness to her and she nodded gravely as he told her and said: I can see that. It’s even in the way that you hold yourself. He asked her whether there was anyone in her life and she said: not that I mean to tell you about. He stopped, and he coughed and apologised, and Ruby leaned in quickly and said: that was a stupid thing to say. There’s no one to tell you about. I just wanted to sound less lame when I told you that.

Jesse confessed his loves, brief as they had been, and he told Ruby of the heartache that he had been caused by women who would initially express interest in him, become increasingly scornful of his tender heart, and then leave. I feel like an old man, he said. I want someone to cook for and watch TV with. They all want to be trophy wives. And when they see that I am poor, or too poor for them, they just leave me without stopping to say goodbye. Maybe a text, I don’t know. Even a fuck you would have been nice.

Such conversations are perilous things, especially when they are inflamed by the drinking of fine and sensual wines. Ruby and Jesse began talking about what they wanted, in love most of all, and what they would settle for, and there were covert declarations within these confessions, and there was secret yearning expressed without any explicit confession of anything, and more than that even, in the longing that was between them.

Ruby, he said.

Yes.

I have something to ask you.

She lowered her head.

Mr Jesse.

Yes Ruby?

It might be better if you didn’t.

Jesse sighed and looked downwards, shifting his cutlery with his fingertips.

I suppose I already knew that, he said.

Ruby saw such sadness rise in him, and his hard solitude, and his yearning to be released from it. She also saw his tragic goodness shining out to her more brightly than she had ever seen it. Ruby began to soften and she felt her heart reach out to him but there were gargoyles at the gates of her heart and they arrested it as it flowed. They turned her love back sharply and she saw deeply into things that she had not properly comprehended before, and with the mercy and the severity of every Ruby Tuesday, the great heart that had beaten since Gan Eden, she took Jesse’s mind and she shepherded it beside quiet waters, and in those cool pastures where he was led Ruby spoke to him, using just those words that were stored within her, for Jesse and for this very occasion.

O Jesse. You fine, upright man. My heart yearns for you, as you can only imagine. But in Babylon you know: my love would mark you out for destruction, and damn me to die of desolation. O spring of Jesse, O my heart’s desire. I shall not yield to you. You shall not know me, Beloved, until we are led back into the Promised Land.

Ruby was silent again and Jesse was quiet and still, and he did not move for many seconds. When he did move he slowly picked up his wine glass, and examining it in the soft light of the room he asked: what are they putting in my wine? And Ruby held her glass up too and she laughed gently at his astonishment and said: whatever it is, I hope you feel better. And he said: I feel proud, for some reason. I feel like somebody loves me. And Ruby said: we all love you, Mister Jesse. More than you can know.

And although Ruby was quiet about that and did not volunteer anything further still Jesse’s heart swelled gently within him. It grew and also softened in pride and satisfaction, and although these feelings were strange still he felt as though he was worthy of them, and they did not abate for the whole of the rest of the meal, or the next day, or the next. Like a gift, an abundant blessing, these feelings stayed within Jesse and they shored him up, and while his solitude persisted he felt justified in it, and even loved, and he felt all of the strictness of his honour but also the sturdy reassurance of it, as it beat with the same beat of his heart, entirely inseparable from that deep rhythm which sustained him, and which raised him up. Such is more than most men could hope for.

Chapter 9 - The Hunt Goes On

UNDER the full moon, Ruby always hunted.

She hunted mostly alone but sometimes in conjunction with her fellow hunters, bound by their intertwined hearts to aid each other, and by the power of the moon.

Ruby read the legends of the world as they spanned the light and the dark places, searching both ways throughout history to seek out the legends of the damned. Knowing the truths that were recorded there, still she sought out more prosaic knowledge of the deeds of the wicked, even in the documents she now had access to, the files she kept so neatly for Jesse.

Ruby followed some trails for many months, carefully threading out the fibres of good and evil. She also struck swiftly, unerringly, where those stories were finished and told. Ruby used all of the powers of her lineage and also the new powers that she had brought into the world, and while she did not exult in her work she was absolutely committed to it. For it was what she was, in heart and soul, and there was no sense in asking whether she might relent from it, or leave the work to others even if those capable could be found.

For the wicked there was no mercy. Ruby tore their hearts out of their chests and presented them for judgment, and upon their own pronouncement her victims stood condemned. She ripped minds out of heads and interrogated them, she read the very guts and entrails of those who gorged themselves on cruelty, drawing them out for the divination of the truths that resided there.

For the wicked there can be no mercy. Sooner or later judgment will be executed upon them, swift and terrible and leaving no time for appeal or remorse.

To those who would harm the innocent: rightly should you fear. Those who would abuse children, in the dire secrecy of your crimes: rightly should you fear. Those who would lie and exploit and slander, consuming the goodwill of the world: rightly should you fear.

Especially under the full moon, when Ruby always hunted.

Chapter 10 - The Watchmen Of The City

RUBY had her ways and she was faithful to them but like all beings fair and foul her perspective was limited. There were movements in the world that even her special sight could not perceive, subject as it was to the strict delineations that allow uncertainty to bleed into the world.

Carlos Lasenex was one very special surprise. He arrived at Jesse’s office at 10am on a sunny Monday morning, smiling broadly at Ruby, asking with perfect deference whether he might be granted a moment to consult with Mr Quinn. Ruby told him that Jesse was in court, and Carlos said that he would happily wait. When Ruby said that Jesse might be some time Carlos smiled more broadly, saying: I am content to wait for as long as might be necessary.

As Carlos sat waiting on the battered chesterfield, elegant and upright, Ruby grew more and more uneasy about his presence. She tried to clear her mind towards a proper view of him, but there was nothing in his appearance or demeanour that she could interpret clearly. In her anxiety to know more Ruby sent a small stream of enquiry towards his heart, but just as it entered that place Ruby found it snapped and blunted back at her with a single imperious word.

Don’t.

Ruby was shocked, at this retort from this man.

My business is with him.

Do not intrude upon me again.

Ruby flushed a deep crimson as she looked around for something to distract her. As she flailed there at her desk Carlos looked over at her and smiled his inscrutable smile and said: Madam I wonder. Would you have the facilities to allow me to make a cup of tea? Ruby pointed mutely towards the kitchen alcove, suddenly unable to speak, and Carlos thanked her kindly and moved in that direction. As he made and then sipped his strong black tea he became stranger to Ruby, and despite her efforts to remain calm she found herself confused and beset by an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling that she realised with a sudden flash must be the feeling of fear.

Jesse returned to the office at around eleven, and before Ruby could introduce their strange guest he stood up and shook Jesse’s hand. I am Carlos Lasenex, he said, in his cool, polite manner. I wonder if I may have a few moments of your time. Jesse nodded and said of course, Mr Lasenex. Just let me have ten minutes? Carlos bowed slightly and said: please, Mr Quinn. Take as much time as you need.

As Jesse walked past Ruby towards his office he raised his eyebrows to her in query, and she shrugged her shoulders in a most uncharacteristic way. He paused and asked quietly: Ruby. Are you OK? She nodded and turned blushing to some papers on her desk, and although Jesse was puzzled at this change in her he turned slowly and went through the door of his office.

***

Once inside Jesse’s office Carlos Lasenex reclined in his chair and smiled.

This is a charming office you have, Mr Quinn.

By charming I take it you mean small?

Perhaps compact is a better word.

Indeed, said Jesse. So. How can I help?

Help? Carlos smiled broadly.

I thought I might instead help you.

Jesse looked surprised.

Why is that, Mr Lasenex?

Please. Call me Carlos.

Fine. Carlos.

Thank you, said Carlos. You would like me to explain? Well. There are certain people, Mr Quinn. Certain people who… matter. They may not know it but there are others who do know it, very clearly. And it is in the interests of such people, for me to how shall I say. To keep an eye on them.

Jesse sighed and shook his head. Mr Lasenex. I appreciate your interest in me, really I do, but there are people today who genuinely need me. So unless there is anything specific I can assist you with…

Of course, of course. I have some specific questions. I suppose the first would be: how do you choose your clients?

Do you mean…

Yes. The ones you defend. How do you come to choose them?

They choose me, Jesse said.

No.

Yes, Mr Lasenex. I can swear to it.

Carlos wrinkled his brow and said: I very much doubt that, Mr Quinn. There are many things in this world, and others exterior to it entirely, but free choice is very infrequently seen. No. I rather suspect that most of your clients are drawn here. I would suggest that many of them tell you this self-same thing.

Well yes, Jesse said, they do say that but I don’t….

And what is it that draws them in?

Jesse sighed. Is this a test?

No.

I really have no idea.

Think, Mr Quinn.

Jesse sighed.

Perhaps you could enlighten me?

Carlos looked back over his shoulder towards the door.

Do you know what that woman is?

Ruby?

So she says.

Jesse bristled at that and said: her name is Ruby. Ruby Tuesday, if you can believe that. And she runs my practice, every part of it. I could not do without her.

And your clients?

I keep them out of jail.

But afterwards? How do they fare?

I really have no idea.

Carlos smiled.

No. I believe you. You really don’t have any idea.

Carlos was silent and then he looked at his watch. Well perhaps I had better get out of your hair, he said. Thank you for your time. I will leave my details, so that you can call me if you notice anything… strange. I am possessed of a certain authority.

Possessed? asked Jesse.

Carlos smiled.

Perhaps that is also true.

Jesse ran his hand through his hair. I’m sorry Mr Lasenex that was rude of me. I do appreciate your interest, but unless you can tell me what you need, I don’t see how I can assist you any further.

Of course, Mr Quinn.

Perhaps I will come back to you when I have something more specific to discuss.

No problem, Carlos. I wish I could be more help.

Oh you have helped me already. And you may get further opportunity.

I hope so.

Carlos got up and bowed slightly.

You may wish otherwise, he said.

Once you know what might be asked.

And he turned and left the office immediately.

***

As Carlos Lasenex passed Ruby’s desk he paused for a moment, feeling her shrink back and her shields arise against him. She recoiled but her shields were porous to the forces that were within him and Carlos surged through them and past them on all sides at once, and in a less than a moment of conventional time he delivered the following stern message to Ruby.

There are Rules, he said, his voice crashing within her mind. There are Sanctions, also, attendant upon those rules. Do not go too far, She-Wolf. There are mandates within heaven and earth that vastly exceed your own mandate. If you go too much further you may find out about them, much to your sorrow and dismay.

Carlos surged further within Ruby’s mind and she made no further effort to repulse him.

You do not know what this man is. You do not know what he might become. You are arrogant, and that serves you in your hunting but it will not serve you here. If you interfere you might find out what hell really means, and there may well be Hell to pay. And what repayments they exact in that place? You cannot begin to imagine.

Ruby went to demur but Carlos interrupted her.

I have spoken, She-Wolf.

Beware of this man.

He will crush you.

You have no defences, not to the likes of him.

And as easily as he had breached them Carlos Lasenex surged back behind Ruby’s barriers, as he smiled politely at her. There was at last some genuine warmth in the smile that he gave her, and her fear abated somewhat.

Ruby stared and sought to ask him: what are you? But the question was pointless, as he would not be permitted to answer, and Ruby realised suddenly that there were many things that were forbidden for her to know, by edict of an authority that was beyond her power to comprehend.

Ruby was confronted by that knowledge as she watched Carlos collect his jacket, return his cup to the kitchen alcove, and then walk out of the office, bowing to her slightly as the door closed upon him.

Chapter 11 - The Love Of Ruby Tuesday

ONE unremarkable Thursday evening Jesse walked out of the office, farewelling Ruby as he went. Don’t stay back too late, he said. Ruby reminded Jesse that she was not in tomorrow with a doctor’s appointment and he said: of course, I should have remembered. I hope it’s nothing serious. She laughed and said Mr Jesse you may not want to know. He hung his head in play shame and said: you’re probably right about that.

Most nights Jesse went straight home to his empty house but this night he was booked for dinner with an old friend from school. The restaurant was decent but although there was talk and sincere efforts towards intimacy between them, there remained a gulf between the two men that could not be bridged. Jesse battled on, dredging up anecdote and memory, and he really tried to listen to the workaday claims that his friend kept trotting out. How his wife was riding him, how his kids were brats, how he would love to write a novel one day if the world would give him the permission to do so.

Jesse acknowledged that false dream and everything else that his former friend had to say to him but he grew sadder as the evening grew long, seeing their lives now so estranged from each other.

After dinner the two men ambled slowly down the street past restaurants and fashion boutiques and bars. Although in the cool night they spoke very little to one another still they felt the oppression of the dinner table fall away from them. The bright moonlit evening did not require any further words and in the absence of speech they were suddenly companions again as they walked together down the street.

The night was so pleasant that Jesse’s friend did not see him slow and then stop completely in the street. Nor did he notice Jesse’s absence until he was twenty paces or more away from his side. He looked back and called out but Jesse did not hear him, but rather continued staring out across the street towards a dark laneway on the other side.

What Jesse stared at cannot easily be described in words. It was his whole heart’s desire, and it was his fate, and it was everything he had never dared hope to find upon the earth. He saw a woman that he loved but she was so much more than that, as she shone out to him in a focussed beam that was for him and him utterly and also for him alone. He wept tears of gratitude that did not wet his face, and he felt such longing and desire that could undo a man if he had the courage to really feel those things. He saw something worth living for and something worth the immediate surrender of his life, and this contradictory desire to live and also to die made his heart swell to the point that it was barely contained within his chest.

These feelings were not only his feelings. What stood across from him, and what he stared at? O this luminous being desired Jesse more than a man could dare to imagine. The moon shone brightly through him as well and Ruby could finally see the immense size of the heart that beat within Jesse, the sheer colours and the radiance with which it shone. As his heart went out to her Ruby felt herself throb hugely with it, and she gasped with the sudden desire to weep human tears and also tears made of moonlight for the man who burned there and stared at her so intently. His bravery and his honour burned exceptionally incandescent, leaving Ruby to feel such hopeless devotion that she could not look away.

All of these things happened in an instant, and they also occurred in a space that extended infinitely beyond time. When Jesse was shaken back to reality by his friend he did not know what day it was, or what the hour, and he stared at the moon with some surprise, and when he looked back to where his heart’s desire had been standing he saw that Ruby was no longer there.

Jesse woke from his reverie as his old friend gently shook him. He nodded and smiled and said: sorry about that. I must have drunk too much.

But Jesse knew that this not the proper explanation. Even as he recovered himself he was intensely illuminated by Ruby, feeling himself burn for the love of this woman who had now been so revealed to him. He also burned in the knowledge that the same desire was within her: that just as he burned for Ruby, so would she in her desire and devotion continue to burn for him.

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