Life, Wait for Me
There is a scratch-
red, puckered, bleeding-
on my arm.
Why is it there?
As if my flesh has been somewhere
I have not.
©2010
…………………
Wish
A tiny airplane, like a toy, flies over my head and I wonder if there’s a little girl up there, like me, smiling with her Mom and Daddy. Maybe they’ll go on a roller coaster or eat ice cream or stay up all night watching movies.
The pine trees are one big blot against the night sky. I came to the woods next to where I live so I could watch the sunset. The sky turned from orange to black, and now there are fireflies everywhere to keep me company. The woman on the news said I'd see a star shower. When I see that star, I can go to my real home.
I hope Mom won’t be mad. I left her a note. I said I'm going home, so she can be happy for me. Once I’m home, Mom will come home, too. And we’ll all be happy together.
I begin to count the stars on the big dipper and a big bright line appears next to the moon. I close my eyes tight and make a wish. I touch my forehead, shoulders, and heart- just in case. I can go home. Maybe Mom will be there waiting for me with Daddy and she’ll give me a big hug. And Daddy will hug me, too.
I walk toward the glowing gas station sign that’s out of the woods and across the road. As I get closer, the crickets stop chirping. The man inside the gas station is staring at a clock on the wall. I open the door.
"Where is Cheery Street please?" I say.
He looks at me. He leans back and glances at the gas pumps outside. “Where’re your parents?”
“Mom is- she’s going pee and we’re trying to get home but we got lost. Do you know Cheery Street?” I show my teeth to the man.
He tilts his head to one side and squints an eye at me. “Follow the road west and it’s on the right.”
“West?”
He points. “That way.” He pulls out his cell phone and puts his thumb on the numbers. “Maybe we should call your mother?”
“Oh, she’s done. I have to go tell her. Bye.” I rush out the door. Head west. This way. On the right.
I walk for a long time and my feet hurt. When I see Cheery Street, I run. And I keep running until the houses look familiar and I see my real home waiting for me with the same porch light and same ribbons tied to the mailbox. My bedroom will be the same, too.
I wait until my heart stops pounding before I inch through the flowers underneath my window. I slide the window open and peek into the room. It is the same- stuffed animals on the shelves, a small TV in the corner. Except there's a crib in the room and a baby is sleeping in it.
I climb through the window. The baby cries. The light comes on. Daddy stands in the doorway.
"Amber? How did you-" He blinks a few times. He goes to the baby. He picks it up. "It's alright, sweetie."
I bow my head. “Is Mom here?” She could be waiting to surprise me.
The woman my Daddy lives with walks in. "What happened? Amber?" She touches the baby. “Shh it’s okay.” She looks at me and those large wrinkles on her face press into her skull. “You should call your mother, Amber.”
I watch Daddy- clutching the little baby like she's the only thing under this whole big sky.
©2011
…………………
Whisper
I'm five feet seven inches
inside a house 2,795 square feet
in a country 2,095 miles wide
on a planet 4.5 billion years old
revolving in a galaxy
that sits in a universe
beyond what our
in a country 2,095 miles wide
on a planet 4.5 billion years old
revolving in a galaxy
that sits in a universe
beyond what our
three pound brains
can measure.
In a house
in a country
on the planet
in the galaxy
in the universe,
I am standing-
trying to imagine
anything existing
beyond my own
insignificance.
©2011
…………………
The Limit
Bill loved his role as princess. He never cooked because dinner was brought home. He never cleaned because of the maid. And a generous amount of money deposited into his checking account every Friday at 4pm after his girlfriend Denise went to the bank.Denise sold real estate to wealthy families looking for second homes, and Bill knew she loved to come home and see him sitting on the couch playing video games. And how he always shut the TV off and rushed to greet her. She knew Bill would never leave. They would sit down to a nice dinner, chat, maybe have sex, and then return to the couch for a night of video games and movies.
One evening, after five years, Denise arrived home and walked to the dinner table and sat down in the dark. Bill told his online friends they would defeat the Covenant another day, and he turned off the TV and joined her at the dinner table.
“Welcome home,” he said, both of them in the dark with light from another room providing a diffuse glow.
“Sorry, I’m just tired,” she said. She went to Bill, kissed his forehead, and then walked upstairs.
He thought about proposing marriage, to solidify the relationship. He rehearsed different scenarios in his head while making dinner for himself, hotdogs, since Denise didn’t bring anything home for them to eat.
***
The next two mornings, Denise woke up early and left for work without saying goodbye. On Saturday, she took a shower, so Bill removed his clothes and snuck in behind her. Maybe it was longer than he thought since they made love and she needed some of Bill’s sensual physical comfort.
“Mind if I join? Water’s nice,” he said and grabbed her hips.
She rinsed shampoo out of her hair. “I’m about finished. Have to meet a friend today. Here’s the soap.” She handed him a sudsy washcloth before leaving the shower. He heard the bathroom door shut and he stood there hoping the cold water hitting his skull would help him remember whatever he forgot. Or maybe she was stressed from work. A big client. An important deal.
He turned off the water and dressed in clothes the maid forgot to wash. He opened a drawer in the kitchen and removed a small wad of cash Denise left for emergency food or emergency anything. He would make dinner, the best dinner Denise tasted in a long time. A lovely dinner and flowers and a finely dressed man could solve anything.
At three in the afternoon, something on the stove began to burn and a large puff of smoke released itself from the frying pan. Bill grabbed the pan, but it was too hot and it fell to the floor spilling burnt meat all over the tile. He forgot to unfreeze the pork chops before frying them, so the edges burned before the middle was ever heated.
At three-thirty, the floor was clean and the evidence hidden and he decided to buy a pre-cooked meal and make it his own. So when Denise came through the front door Bill, clean-shaven and dressed in clothes he ironed himself, escorted her to a fine chicken meal with mashed potatoes, biscuits, and steamed vegetables. A vase with twelve pink roses rested in the middle of the table. Before they sat, she touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know. My friend and I had Mexican.”
“How was your day?” he said. She sat down and nibbled on a biscuit while he filled his plate with food. “Which friend was it?”
Biscuit crumbled from the edges of Denise’s lips. “How is your online campaign going?”
“Good. We’re on the last level. Once we finish legendary, it’s supposed to unlock a secret area or a helmet or something. Then me and StokedCorn69 have a tournament with another clan on Wednesday.” Bill sipped the expensive wine he bought that Denise wasn’t interested in. It tasted like bitter lemons. “Which friend was it? Anne?”
“No. Not Anne. These biscuits are nice.” She stared at the pink roses in the vase. She plucked off a dead leaf.
Bill ate his chicken and Denise nibbled her biscuit, crunching the dead leaf between her thumb and forefinger. An old grandfather clock in the hallway chimed six times. They used to visit antique stores together up until a year ago when Denise said it was getting old and decided they had enough antiques anyway. They both fell in love with the clock when they spotted it one brisk winter morning. It reminded Bill of Holland, pictures of Holland since he never went there, and she agreed. She traveled extensively before they moved in together and she promised to take him somewhere exotic on his next birthday.
They never did go. They never went on any vacations together, except the beach an hour away.
When the clock stopped chiming and the house once again filled with silence, except for the scrape of Bill’s fork against his plate, Denise dropped her biscuit.
“Will you ever have sex with a man?” she said.
He almost swallowed a large piece of chicken but stopped, and it sat heavy on his tongue. He spit the wet wad of meat into a napkin. “Haven’t we talked about this?”
“You said you were opened-minded to try new things.”
He should have asked Denise to marry him, months before. “You know I’m not interested,” he said. “I’m fine with us watching those kind of movies, but I- don’t like other guys.”
“But you would if it was another girl?” She plucked a single rose from the vase and began rubbing the petals until they started to separate from each other and scatter across the table.
“Of course.”
Denise shrugged and shook her head. The rose, dissected, was of no more interest to her and she grabbed another one from the red vase.
“I know you don’t like women, though,” Bill said.
“But if I asked, you would do it because you love me.”
He finished eating. He couldn’t eat. He shouldn’t have bought fast food with its grease and its meat that’s supposedly never frozen. “Are you asking?”
“I could give you more money every week. Or we could go somewhere. How about Paris? Or I’d love to see Holland again.” She arranged the small pile of rose petals around the bottom of the vase, in a circle. “My friend is coming over tomorrow night for dinner,” she said. “Thanks for making me chicken. Can you put it in the fridge for later? I’m off to bed, sweets.”
After she left the dining room, Bill realized, in his rush to welcome Denise home and escort her to the dinner table, he forgot to turn on the lights, and they sat in the dark the entire time.
***
The friend that came to dinner the following night wasn’t really a “friend” but Tony, a man Denise dated seriously in college. She told Bill, a year after they moved in together, that Tony was a passionate fling. Just one of those experiences every college person has, especially when lots of alcohol is involved. It lasted for two years, she thought Tony loved her, but she found he cheated and dated other women the entire relationship.
“That’s why I love you,” she told Bill. “I know you’ll never do something like that. You stay. And I’ll take care of you. You can have whatever you want.”
She complained about sex sometimes, yet Bill figured that happened to any couple who lived together more than a year.
Tony walked in wearing a leather jacket and his hair slicked back so the hardened gel reflected every drop of light in the house. “Hey, I’m Tony,” he said and shook Bill’s hand.
Bill adjusted his sloppy, long-sleeved, buttoned shirt and stared at the dirt crumbling off Tony’s brown leather boots.
“So I guess Denise talked to you about this?” Tony said.
Denise took Tony’s coat and hung it on the rack. “Kind of," she said. "Sit down and I’ll get us some drinks. You still like vodka?”
Tony sat on the couch and stared at the replica of Raphael’s Philosophy, School of Athens painting on the wall. The one above the large cabinet of video games Bill insisted they keep.
“Yes, sir,” Tony said.
Bill joined Denise in the kitchen. “So he’s here for dinner?”
“Mmm,” she said as she searched a cabinet for vodka. “You want some Kahlua and milk? Or orange juice?”
“No, I’ll have vodka.”
“You hate vodka.”
“No, no. It should be fine.”
They returned to Tony and the two of them, Denise and Tony, sat around the coffee table drinking shots while Bill licked vodka out of a tiny glass, drop by drop.
“Seriously, you did not do that,” Denise said.
Tony adjusted himself. “Yeah, babe. I swear I snuck into her house to take back that watch she stole from me. Next thing, I’m fucking her sister in the laundry room.”
“Damn. I remember that bitch was crazy.”
They both laughed. Bill chugged a shot and it burned down his throat. He went to college, community college. There were no parties or wild drunken sex orgies, like at Denise’s university. Only middle-aged people and high school drop outs attempting to make a better life for themselves. Bill dropped out after his second semester, when he met Denise who was a little older than him and who had gone to college right out of high school and finished with honors. And who wanted Bill to stay home and “watch after things” so he’d always be available when she needed someone.
Denise moved closer to Tony and touched his arm as she laughed at another one of his absurd stories. Bill downed two more shots and stood up.
“So, we ready to do this?” Tony said. He winked at Denise and then raised an eyebrow at Bill.
“Do what?” Bill said.
Denise walked to Bill and grabbed his arm. “We need to talk.” She led him into the kitchen.
“I gave the maid the day off tomorrow,” she said.
“Okay.”
“You want some more shots?”
“How could you invite him over when we haven’t talked about this?”
She leaned against the counter and blew air out of her lips so tiny wisps of hair floated above her cheekbones. “Do you remember our one year anniversary? When I took you out to Le Vine downtown?”
“I guess.”
“Well, after dinner we went for a walk in the park and you asked about my fantasies and I told you.”
He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand.
“And then you said, ‘Well I’ll just have to make that fantasy come true for you.’ I’ve been waiting, Bill.”
“I was drunk,” Bill said. Maybe he did need another shot. Or maybe Tony needed to wear a wig so they could all pretend he was a girl. A very beefy girl. “And I thought you were kidding. It’s a fetish. We all have those. They’re not meant to be real.”
“You’re an asshole.” She pushed past him. He washed his hands in the sink- they smelled like liquor. He walked to the living room.
Tony and Denise had their shoes on and stood next to the door.
“Where are you going?” Bill said.
Denise giggled. “To have a little fun.”
Tony zipped his jacket closed. “You need to relax, man. Live a little.”
Denise slammed the door behind them. Bill thought about following her, but decided he didn’t want to witness whatever it was she needed to do. He fell into the couch and chugged more vodka. It made his tongue numb and acid from his stomach singed the bottom of his larynx. Being a princess was bullshit.
He fell asleep on the couch and woke up when Denise came stumbling through the front door. They were both drunk, yet somehow found each other in the pitch blackness and made love. She smelled like cigarettes and Tony.
***
He fell asleep on the couch and woke up when Denise came stumbling through the front door. They were both drunk, yet somehow found each other in the pitch blackness and made love. She smelled like cigarettes and Tony.
***
Tony and all mention of Tony disappeared for a few glorious months and resurfaced on Denise’s thirtieth birthday. He gave her some questionable DVDs, which she opened in private after the other guests said their goodbyes. Tony made a few passes at Bill, so Bill went outside and dropped his wine glass in the pool to see how fast it’d sink. It didn’t sink as fast as he thought and the wine color dissolved into the chlorine blue of the water.
Denise walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “We were thinking of watching some of those movies. Come join us.” She kissed the back of his neck.
“Let’s get married,” Bill said. “I was thinking of going back to school. Learning a trade. Maybe carpentry. We can go to Italy for our honeymoon. I’ll pay.”
She let go of his waist and laughed. “I can’t imagine you doing physical labor.”
“Maybe computer repair. I’m good with that.”
She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his hand. “Come on.” She pulled him toward the house and the sexy videos and Tony who might be grinning about the hope of seeing Denise’s naked body again. Or maybe they already had sex and Tony was grinning about naked Bill.
He refused to budge. “Is it yes or no?”
“Yes, let’s go watch some videos and have a little fun.”
“No. Yes or no will you marry me?”
Denise let go of Bill’s hand. The pool's cleaning cycle kicked on and the vents gurgled. A little vacuum inched its way across the pool bottom. With its long sucking hoses it resembled a Cthulu monster drowned at the bottom of the sea.
“You’re serious?” she said. “Don’t we have a good thing here?”
The pool vacuum ran into Bill’s wine glass, but instead of breaking it or sucking it up, it was bumped out of the way and went spinning, slow, through the water.
“Did you have sex with Tony?”
Her head and eyes followed the ripples in the water. “I hope that glass doesn’t break the vacuum,” she said. “Those are expensive.” She turned to Bill and kissed him on the lips. “I love you, and we have a good thing here. Ask me again in a few days after we have fun with Tony.” She waited and Bill could hear the woosh, woosh, woosh of water filling his ears.
“Come join us when you’re ready,” she said and returned to her house.
Bill could learn to fix computers. He could learn to pay rent on his own and cook meals and work nine to five; get drunk on the weekends like everyone else. He could learn to be patient and not get everything he wanted when he wanted it.
Something shattered in the house and Denise and Tony started laughing. Bill could learn to laugh with them, too. Maybe. He could laugh with the woman he loved who happened to love everyone else. And maybe the pool vacuum would crack the wine glass scattering shards across the bottom. Glass would pierce the bottom of Denise's feet the next time she and Tony went for a swim- one painful shard of glass in the side of her Achilles tendon.
Her voice would tense and her temples bulge and she'd look at Bill with rage that can't be reasoned or contained or paid off. Bill, calm, would stand there laughing at her. Laughing and laughing.
©2012