experiment – Page 29 – three good words

October 11, 2014May 17, 2020

love, actually

Not PG rated

The sun is milky while she lies sleeping on the cushions. She was reading, the pages lie open on her chest. He carefully picks up the piece, puts it on the table. He sits back on the glass and watches her, the proof that she is real. Some time between the successions of dawn and dusk, pain faded and allowed something else to live between them, opening up the possibility of peace.

There are no sheets. The plains barely clad, cool in their smoothness where dark pillars rise leading down to the source forgotten yet known where he drowns repeatedly tasting the texture of a touch while the heat spreads and silence is no longer a sound.

Under his hands she comes alive reaching under his skin, pulling out the pieces while he looses the last bit of weakness that fills the deep he’s breathing in, steady, steady, in and out, rise and fall, a force of life till time no longer runs and rushes but melts down into heat and darkness filled with light she holds in her hands, pressing the past into his skin, marking his body burning deep past muscle into bone until it comes like fog falling down the mountain before she cries, softly, and the air is free again.

Her body is his blanket, he does not need more against the cold. She has allowed him, released an amnesty for this witching hour where his body felt stripped, without armor, newborn, real. She has turned a blind eye on the truth that they both know for this long moment between night and morning and in her mercy there is no weakness yet he felt no strength of his own.

At a loss now, he searched for paths and ways, roads otherwise traveled that would show him what to do with his life, void and meaningless as it was without her acceptance of those words that made up his apology. The words would need to be said no matter how often he threw them against the walls barbed with silent terror, no matter how often he sent them flying, crashing against the fortress of consequence. Every living thing insisted that they be said, be it just once, otherwise everything worth living for would be dead and what was more sacred than the rise and fall, that steady beat right under the curve of her breast?

‘You haven’t been here yet, have you?’ she asks. I shake my head. We’re at her new place, an apartment she shares with a friend. It looks good, books on the table, some magazines on the easy chair, a couple o’ plants. There’s music coming out of a closed door, she whispers, ‘Eddy’s here,’ grinning like that. Must be her friend’s guy then. She asks me if I’d like some coffee, we almost got caught in the rain. I keep it to, ‘Yeah, why not.’ We talk some about everything while she walks around, those jeans fit her perfect. Like always, I don’t know what to do, exactly. She looks relaxed, she always does, there’s nothing that can really throw Celine. She pours out the coffee into mugs, stirs in milk and sugar and hands me one. She still knows how I take it. Nice.

She’s sitting on her desk chair now, facing me. I’m on her bed, she’s still got the best I’ve ever seen. Probably coz I know she’s usually in it. I’d like to stop this waiting. She finally looks back at me. She stops talking, I don’t know what she just said. She takes a sip of coffee and puts her cup down on her desk. Then she turns back to me, gets up and straddles me slow, pulling off my scull cap just like she used to. Her hands fit light on my head. She says, ‘I really like these studs on you.’ I kiss her before she starts thinking twice about it, it’s happened before. Or worse, back then, way at the beginning. Half the night talking, arguing, fighting until she was crying, shouting, ‘Why don’t you even try to get me! Why won’t you even try to understand!’ She was so pissed… Her eyes all wet, and that look on her face like I was fucking up her life on purpose. That whole weekend was – bad. Just bad. I didn’t know nothin’ then. I don’t want that now. She looks too good now.

She’s smiling when I pull her closer. Her lips are as soft as ever. Just kissing her again is… why’d nobody say you had to know stuff early? That it could happen before graduation? That your girl could just know, really know what was out there? Why’d no one say?

We used to spend whole nights just doing this, hidin’ out in her room, her folks wouldn’t let her stay out after ten, especially with me. Her old man… that guy was tough. So, she’d sneak me in when her folks were sleeping, and then… Learnt to wait with her, wait until she took out one from that pink case in her drawer next to the bed. She got me used to them, she wouldn’t let me otherwise. ‘I love you Alec, but I don’t want your babies just yet.’ She meant it to. We made plans. After, with her all curled up nice, her skin perfect, her heartbeat this steady real thing right under my hand. We’d talk about it, that house, those cars, that pool. Having everyone over for cookouts, getting Nate for the barbecues. We’d had it all planned out. ‘Xcept I thought she was just dreamin’ it up. She meant it from the start.

I remove everything on her after she pulls off my sweater, taking the shirt with it, she always does it like that. She smiles, ‘Still working the gym I see.’ Her hands are warm, perfect, why’s it with her that she just knows? I lay her out on her bed before I go for her breasts. I’ve missed them like nothing else, she’s got the most perfect pair. We both get her out of her jeans, lingerie – holy shit – wait, wait, I wanna see that – fuck… I have to ask,

‘Where’d you get this from.’
‘London.’
‘London? Like, London, England?’ books 2
‘Yeah. We have this mandatory thing where you have to leave the country for at least two weeks. I can’t do a full term so I took the two weeks Literary London. That’s how Professor Bernard calls it.’

Sometimes I just want her life. It’s always just a second, but it keeps on turning up and then I just want that way of being at the right place at the right time. Just knowing how it’s done.

‘When was this?’
‘Two months ago.’
‘How was it?’
‘Really nice. I got to see a lot.’
‘And buy this.’
‘Yeah.’

She smiles there, pulls me down – her lips are still the softest. And she did come back. She always comes back.

I go for what’s waiting between her thighs, smooth, her legs are endless with these tiny feet. There’s nothing like what she tastes like. I stay till she’s there, right there, she’s easy on her voice, her hands on my head, her feet rubbing up and down my back and I want her to black out, make her come so hard she just falls apart. I got her crying once, but now’s not the time. I’ll split open if I don’t do something – that’s new. Probably from over there. Did she –? Now’s not the time. Fits too, and I sure hope she still has a few coz I love being inside this woman. I love fucking her so much I always want to marry her right after. I’d ask her too if I didn’t know she’d just look at me and roll her eyes like I was bullshitting. Or smile that smile from that other world she lives in, which’d be worse, but now’s not the time.

. . .

‘Alec?’
‘Hm.’

That was just too good. Maybe I should move back up here again.

‘Do you still write?’

I kiss her instead of answering, I don’t want to have to explain that. I keep it long, but after I let her go she asks, ‘You still write, don’t you?’ I can’t answer that. She sits up a bit and looks at me. It’s her look, the one only she has, that special mix of anger and disappointment that she tops off with that tone as if she doesn’t know who I am anymore.

‘Why don’t you write anymore? Alec? Why don’t you write anymore?’
‘There’s no point.’
‘Why? You love to write, why’d you stop?’

She’s sitting up straight now, staring at me. If I’d said I’d robbed a place she’d look just the same. I still say it,

‘That’s not me anymore.’
‘Of course it’s you –! Alec, that’s like the one thing – ’
‘Carmine.’
‘What?’
‘Carmine. In the city, people call me Carmine.’
‘Why?’
‘Dunno. Just started.’
‘Carmine?’
‘Yeah. Or Car.’
‘Car? You mean, like, the thing you drive in?’
‘Yeah.’

I can’t help smiling. She looks really surprised.

‘But, Alec, you’re not a machine.’

It’s stuff like that, these things she says that make it so crystal how no matter what I do, I’ll never get her and she’ll never get me. Maybe Nisha’s right and street stays street, no matter what you do to get rid of it. Yeah, it says Alec Bellamy on my license, but that ain’t really me. At least not all me, and Celine here… she never got that. And I don’t think she ever will.

October 9, 2014May 17, 2020

history

Dana is crying and Christie is trying to calm her down. They were on their break, smoking a cigarette in front of the diner. The group of girls turned up like a hard cut, suddenly they were there, looking like so much trouble Dana had no time to adjust. Many things were said, but the one sentence Dana remembered was, ‘I see your sleazy ass one more time and I’ll fuckin’ cut you, bitch, I’ll fuckin’ cut you!’ said so close Dana could feel her breath on her skin.

It had taken all of Christie’s hard-nosed cool and the general crowd on the street to keep the woman from making it worse for Dana. She fled into the kitchen after the rest of the group dragged the screaming woman away. Dana refused to come out for five minutes. She had never been called ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘white trash’ in the middle of the street. Now it had happened. Kelsey had warned her the city could get rough, Kelsey, her best friend back home.

‘Be careful, ok? They do things real different over there. Like real different. You’ve gotta toughen up some. You’ve gotta stop bein’ so nice all the time.’

Hearing it was one thing. Actually living through it…. Dana’s hands are shaking, she can barely hold the coffee someone gave her. Christie keeps on looking at her like that. Dean who manages the grill just came out to check on her. Jenny the manager asks her for the third time if she’s all right. Dana nods, holding back the tears. Jenny doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t say anything either. She turns and tells everyone else, ‘All right, all right, show’s over, get back to work.’ Christie won’t let Dana bus tables for another five minutes, Dana doesn’t mind. She spends her five extra minutes breathing consciously like the councilor said. She makes a conscious effort to center herself. It doesn’t change the fact that she recognized the violence in that woman’s eyes. And with recognition memories kicked down doors Dana thought she’d locked firmly shut. At least now she knows how to shut and lock them again.

Jenny lets Dana go home early. ‘You don’t look good, honey. Go home, have some rest. See you tomorrow, ok?’ Dana nods, ‘Ok.’ Christie’s allowed to take her home, Dana saw her talk to Jenny seriously. In Dana’s apartment, Christie makes hot chocolate and cooks up some pancakes, while Dana sits huddled on her couch, staring out of the window. Her hands still tremble a little but she can hold her cup steady again. Now, safe within her own four walls, Dana realizes that she should have expected something like that to happen. She’d never seen such venom spewed so openly though, right out there in the street. The last person who shouted at her like that was Bobby, and that was in her flat.

Bobby.

Dana drinks from her hot chocolate, it’s smooth and sweet, filling her with warmth and comfort. Yes, Bobby. Bobby who she trusted like a kid, a child barely walking. Bobby who got drunk a little too often, but she didn’t notice until much later, about a year after they got together. Bobby who after that one drink too many suddenly turned into someone who threw things and hit her.

The first time was such a shock Dana stayed, she couldn’t believe it happened. It had to be a mistake. And he was very drunk. He’d been out with his boys again and Dana got angry. They started arguing, shouting, and then it happened. She couldn’t believe it, so she stayed. It had to be a mistake.

And then it happened again. Dana was so horrified, she packed her bags, took the car and drove the sixty minutes to her Mom. Bobby came looking for her the very next day. He brought her this huge bouquet of roses, the really good ones from Paradise Road next to the French café. He went down on his knees in the middle of her Mom’s tiny living room and said he was so sorry, so sorry, she didn’t know how much. He swore he would stop with the drink. He swore it would never happen again.

Her Mom was watching, her Mom who thought Bobby was ‘such a fine young man. And from such a good family, too,’ as if that made it really worth it and Dana should stick it through. So Dana said, ‘Ok.’ Deep down she didn’t trust it, she knew that now, but back then she didn’t believe what was happening. This was Bobby. He was always so sweet to her. They’d been to Hawaii together, ten days on Maui in a beautiful bungalow he rented. It was her birthday present, Bobby paid the whole thing. His family had the money, his Dad had a company that sold parts to Ford or Chrysler or maybe GM, one of the really big international ones. And his parents really liked her.

They always had Sunday brunch with them, they had this beautiful house down Lanagan Street where all the houses had pillars and beautiful terraces with couches and plants. No. 251 even had a couch swing. They always had Sunday brunch in Lanagan Street and Dana was always invited to the parties, or ‘do’s as his mother called them. They always teased her that she was going to be the next Mrs. Hillard. And they really loved Bobby, Dana always felt he could tell them everything.

That was the Bobby she knew. Bobby who was Mr. and Mrs. Hillard’s genuinely charming son. He was deferring Harvard (Harvard!) to help his Dad in the company, his Dad was still recovering from a bad heart attack. Bobby had friends and buddies everywhere, he was always getting invited to places. Everybody liked him, there was no one Dana knew who didn’t like him. He made people laugh. That was the Bobby she knew. He really just had to stop with the drink. So she went back and it went well for a long time, at least six months. Dana started thinking maybe she was being too tough on him, he really was trying. Maybe it really was just the drink, he hardly touched it anymore. And it was ok if a guy was a little jealous, wasn’t it? It showed that he really was into you, even her Mom said so, especially with such a guy like Bobby. ‘He could have anybody and he chose you.’ Even Kelsey agreed.

So Dana stayed, longer than she should have. She stayed until the last time, a Saturday night where she came back to her place from going out with Kelsey and her wild friends. Bobby had moved back in with his parents after his Dad’s bad heart attack, he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his old man, so Dana still had her own place. They did keep on talking about moving in together. Bobby really wanted to, Dana just didn’t want to live with his parents. They’d been looking at places close-by that time. Bobby was at her place that night, waiting at the door, smoking his cigarette on the steps. He was very angry. Apparently he’d seen her with someone, it didn’t matter that they were a whole group. That’s how it started, that Saturday night when she went out with Kelsey and her friends who weren’t exactly normal but really nice.

Dana held her cup tighter, pulled her legs closer. She had started to tell herself that it might have gotten much worse if she hadn’t screamed her lungs out, bringing the neighbors down the stairs and into the flat. It might have been much worse. All she had was a cracked rib and a bad concussion. It could’ve been worse. She’d heard about worse in her group. At least she had the sense to scream for help. That’s how she saw it now.

It was a warm summer night so everybody had their windows open. That’s probably why the neighbors heard. They were two, the community college guy Mark and his car mechanic friend he always had over, Stu. Stu had fixed Dana’s car for a decent price when it decided to break down again. It was Mark and Stu that night. They ran down and dragged Bobby off her and that’s when the fight started, but Mark was quick and Stu was strong. Stu kept Bobby pinned down while Mark called 911. Dana was in a corner, clutching her knees, immobile.

The police made her file a restraining order. Officer Sanchez was a woman and she didn’t ‘give a fuck if it’s the Hillards.’ She said that straight at Officer Kirkland who Dana had seen at Mrs. Hillard’s parties a few times. He always seemed to be have a really good time. Officer Sanchez didn’t care, she was furious. She’d reached Dana first, saw her face and shouted, ‘Kirkland! Look at this!’ Dana wanted to hide herself but Officer Kirkland was already there and saw everything. Dana still couldn’t forget the look on his face. Right then, she felt like something so broken, she knew she couldn’t be repaired again.

Dana didn’t want to sign the restraining order though. She didn’t want to make it worse. Officer Sanchez didn’t like that. They argued, Dana tried to explain. There’d just be trouble for her Mom who worked in one of the Hillard’s downtown offices. Her Mom was too old to find a new job if they fired her, people didn’t need secretaries that much anymore. Officer Sanchez said she’d make sure that didn’t happen. If they fired Dana’s mother, what happened to Dana would be in the paper’s next, Officer Sanchez would make sure it was front page news. Officer Sanchez looked like someone who could pull that off.

Dana still didn’t want to make the Hillards angry. Mr. and Mrs. Hillard had always been very nice to her, kind even. If she put out a restraining order on their son, that’d be the end of it, they’d never speak to her again, and if the Hillards stopped speaking to you, basically everyone else did. Just thinking of the whispering that would happen was bad enough. Officer Sanchez slammed her hand on the table, stared straight at Dana and said real calm, ‘You sign that damn paper, girl, otherwise next time he’ll be after you with an axe and there ain’t no stoppin’ that with your hands. You wanna live? In peace? Put your fuckin’ name on it.’ Her exact words. Officer Sanchez looked like she knew what she was talking about. She’d been with Dana through everything from the hospital to the questions at the station. She’d been there, through all of it, and made sure Dana knew exactly what was happening. If Dana had questions, Officer Sanchez answered them. She didn’t care how often Officer Kirkland asked her to ‘tone it down’ or ‘be careful’. Officer Sanchez wasn’t out to mess up her life, rather the opposite. So Dana signed the order.

She left after that, moved far away, deep into this city where she was just another face and another name, Dana, calling her Mom regularly to check if she still had her job. She still did, but life had really changed. She had to go shopping in Newton West now because shopping at home was no longer possible, people stared and whispered too much. A lot of people stopped talking to her, but Rachel and Melanie were still her friends, so it was ok, her Mom wasn’t all alone. And Kelsey did drop by every now and then to say hi, sending Dana texts right after like She’s doing good with a thumbs-up. And now, three years later, someone else screamed at her like that again, with eyes promising far worse to come.

Dana feels nauseous for a moment, but forces herself to stay calm. She tells herself she should have known, she did see them together. She should never have agreed to join him anywhere. She promises herself to never see or speak to him again, and takes another sip from the hot chocolate. Christie really knows how to make it. And the air smells wonderfully of fresh pancakes. She’s all alone here, yes, everything is still very strange and different, but there’s Christie who’s a real friend. The door bell rings, sharp, making both Dana and Christie jump. Christie presses the buzzer and opens the door without checking. Next, Samantha comes bolting up the stairs, shouting ‘Sorry I’m late!’ Dana sits up, surprised, Christie must have called her. Sam runs in right then, all anxious, ‘Dana! Sweetie! Are you ok?!’ Dana feels relief and joy bloom bright in her body. Yes, she has friends here, real friends, and for that she is very grateful.

October 8, 2014May 17, 2020

going out

Not PG rated

It’s five past six and the doorbell rings. Dana looks up, surprised. She was positive he would forget. Nervous, she presses the buzzer and opens her front door. He comes up the stairs, looking cool and relaxed in his scullcap and wide black jacket. He walks in and looks her up and down, surprised. Dana tries to explain.

‘I thought you wouldn’t come.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen you for so long and…’

Dana stops talking when he smiles. ‘It’s ok,’ he says. ‘Just get ready.’ Dana smiles, relieved, ‘I’ll be right out.’ She runs to her bathroom and takes a very quick shower, hoping her small apartment is ok and not too ‘lived-in’ like her Mom always said. Once done she runs to her wardrobe. She doesn’t know what to wear and asks,

‘Where are we going actually?’
‘It’s nothing big, there’s this thing at a friend o’ mine.’
‘Thing?’
‘Open mic night. They’re tryin’ out their tapes. Unless you’re not into that.’
‘Oh no, I love rap!’

Dana blushes. That came out wrong. She doesn’t turn around, but she can feel his eyes on her while she dresses. She smells coffee. It’s nice that he can keep himself busy. Some guys just became helpless. Dana doesn’t put on a lot of make up, fills up a small handbag with the essentials, and finally steps out into the middle of the room with a smile. ‘Done.’

He’s leaning against her table, a cup of coffee in his hand and smiles when he sees her. He removed his jacket, he’s wearing a light sweater and dark jeans with those white Nikes they all seem to have. He still has his skull cap on and she notices the studs in his ears, they flash in the light. They look really good on him. ‘Is it ok?’ Dana asks, turning, and he smiles like that again, nodding. He puts the cup down, picks up his jacket and they leave her apartment. Dana closes the door while he waits behind her. When she turns he kisses her. It’s a long kiss and Dana is full of smiles inside.

There is a lot of glass and light. She never leaves long enough to be completely out of sight. She makes him eat and talk, they go out for walks with Hunter. She keeps the questions away from him, but sometimes he hears the calls. As long as she is there he is able to ignore them. He always wears a hat and a scarf when he leaves the house, it’s still very cold outside.

Evenings are spent with a fire burning and shadows dancing on her face. She reads and he listens, all he wants is her voice. In the morning she lets him lie in bed until she wakes him with coffee, eggs, bacon, jam, butter and toast. She sits next to him on the sheets and watches him eat, she doesn’t leave until he’s finished. She leaves the door open when she showers and when she cooks she always talks to him. Every now and then however, the void fills every sound inside and he has to hold her, touch, feel and smell her skin. Eyes closed her scent is filled with sound, the darkness fades into something close to light and he can open his eyes again. At night it is worst. Then the silence is thick and heavy and sweet to a point that it sickens him and he has to breathe deeply to hold down his dinner. He doesn’t wake her then, his body is almost dead in these awful moments, motionless without any air.

One morning he found her crying over the kitchen sink. He felt his body go numb. She looked at him, tears streaming down her face, colourless and bright. Her shoulders were shaking, bare under the thin straps, her whole body faint with a lack of tension, all loose ends in sight. Memories sprouted, taking root and spreading like ivy on forgotten walls. In another life he would have walked to her, taken her up and carried her safely away, but then a world stood between them that had no doors for either to enter.

I think she’s enjoying it. It’s probably not the place she’d go to, but she seems to like it. She’s moving to the beat, eyes on the stage, yeah, the boys are good tonight. Vaughn’s people have this huge basement and every other week they stage some acts. It’s cool, people like it. Vaughn gets some good money out of it. Sometimes Delroy shows up, collects some tapes for that studio downtown. I haven’t seen Nisha, so that’s cool and there are enough drinks, so it’s all good. Amanda looks good. Came from a small town somewhere and got lost here, happens all the time. She ain’t got that edge yet, but that’s good somehow. And that skirt fits her damn fine.

The beats are coming through the walls. She’s all smooth and soft under her – if this goes on – hard not doin’ it with her hands all over – she’s all ready to – where’d she get that from? She smiles, all sweet, ‘I thought I should take one, just in case.’ Good thinking – Fuck – damn woman, where’d they make you? I want her to say something, like last time – all naked on pink sheets – fuck that’s good –

Back at Jermaine’s. It was closest and he’s outta town anyway. She’s sleeping now and all I can think of is Nisha and all that shouting. You really think you’ll make it? What the fuck? Why doesn’t she see it? Aly made it. And yeah, J.’s not exactly normal, but who’s normal anyway? Wonder how they are up there. Aly sounded ok on the phone. Nisha hasn’t tried anything, she can be tough like that. I won’t call. I always call.

What the – oh, yeah, she’s still here. Amanda. What kind o’ guy calls his kid Amanda? Some Rob or Hank, maybe even a Ted. Probably got married straight outta college, steady job, wife ‘n’ kids, two cars, barbecues, football, the whole thing. It’s not bad though, Amanda. Manda. Mandy. Nah. Amanda. Aman. Ama. Am. Manda. Yeah. She’s got really long hair. And she sleeps like a kid. She’s a fine girl. Not the kind to be all her on her own though. She’d be good with some banker, lawyer, someone up in those offices. She’d look seriously good in – Aly called it somethin’ – Where’s my effin’ LBD? Yeah, one o’ those. Can’t have her all up in my street though. Manda. Amanda. Sounds better the more you say it. Maybe that’s it. Better keep it down though. Nisha all pissed… Nah, better go. No need to make it worse.

October 4, 2014May 17, 2020

boy meets girl

Not PG rated

It’s one of Nisha’s girls’ birthday today. She’ll probably come home sometime round six, but that’s okay. I can go out with my boys for a change, haven’t seen them since… dunno. The usual night out, a bar and then a club, nothing big. Jermaine and Vaughn know what a guy needs when his girl’s out, and so far they’re head on. The place is packed, the girls are hot and the drinks aren’t just water, so it’s all good. Wait, I know her. She looks like that waitress from the diner.

‘Yo, Car, one more?’

That’s Vaughn. I keep it short, ‘Gotta check on something.’ Jermaine’s one big grin. Yeah, it’s her all right.

‘Hi.’
‘Hi!’

That smile. It’s got something. She looks good done up like that. ‘You look nice.’ She smiles. Really nice. The music’s right, yeah, why not. Nice skin, not too much make up. Yeah, that looks good. She can move, too. Nice. The boys won’t stop hollerin’, but it’s all good. Yeah, that’s good. Sweet.

So this is her place. No man round with all that pink. Not bad. Let’s see what she does. A bit nervous, but that’s normal, they always get like that once it’s quiet, unless you prefer the ones who’ve been around, but you never know with them. Shit gets crazy sometimes, and I don’t need that right now. She’s cute though. Nice hair, real dark and all curly. Okay, lemme get comfortable. Good mattress. I pull her close, slow, she’s still staring. She’s got huge eyes. Really nice legs. She hasn’t done this often, even better. She smells good – yeah, that’s good. No bra. Perfect. Her tits are warm and heavy, the kind Nisha would love to have. She’s what d’they call it – yeah, responsive, that’s good. Seriously good bed. Nice panties. Look at her blush. She tries to explain, but hey, nobody’s perfect, and it’s not like I want them on her anyway. Trimmed, even better. I like a woman who takes care of herself without going all Hub on you. Let’s get this off her, good. Now the shirt – yeah, I worked hard for these. Her fingers are cool, she’s really loving it. Where’s that – there. Yeah, she’s ready, still tastes like that last cocktail. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do it.’ A bit excited. She really hasn’t done this often. Let’s hope she’s okay with it. Okay, she’s getting nervous. ‘Hey. Hey. Amanda. Look at me.’ She doesn’t immediately, but she looks up again. I smile to keep her eyes on me and she doesn’t look away. She opens her mouth a little. I kiss her and go all the way. She’s holding her breath. ‘Ok?’ I ask. Say yes, coz damn girl you’re perfect. She nods, her eyes still closed. I pull back and she breathes out again. Yeah…

That was sweet. Lucky she didn’t ask for my digits. She’s got a deep sleep though, shouldn’t let too many strangers come to her house. But that was good, she probably hasn’t had too many. Nice. Now, let’s see, five o’clock. Nisha’s probably still out. No need to rush. Man, I’m hungry. Next time I’m in that diner, I’ll ask her out for a coffee or something. She’d be one for coffee. Dinner and a movie. Some serious winin’ and dinin’. It’d be good with her. Probably was her first time though, takin’ a complete stranger home. Well, sort o’ complete stranger. Real nice body. All tight and hot inside, sucks you right in. Nice tits, ass ain’t too flat, comes nicely, not too loud either, just the right thing for a Saturday night. I really gotta get something to eat, man, I’m dyin’.

* * *

It’s hard to say if he’s awake or not but she’s sitting there watching him. He can feel her hand around his, her fingers cool and long, warming up in the small cavity. There are no shadows in the room and by the light it must be morning, close to noon. A door opens and the nurse walks in, they talk a little, she checks the machines and leaves again. He can see it all and hear it all but it is very far away. All he knows is her hand holding his, her fingers warming on his skin.

They are talking softly, he hears her whisper into his ear, telling him a story he can’t remember but makes a smile grow in his head. She is close now, closer than when she first came, lying next to him, one hand under her head, her other still holding his. The nurse comes in but doesn’t say anything. She does her routine and tells her if she wants to eat, she will have to go to the cafeteria. She nods and says thank you but he holds her hand tighter. She can’t leave. The shadows are too long in the corners, and even Hunter can’t scare them away in his noiseless sleep.

Midnight, and darkness is a bright light on the street outside. The bed is empty, he has lost his body and is searching for his limbs. They are hidden in the streetlight and he sits up to find them again. She’s in the room, sleeping soundly on a makeshift bed next to the window. Carefully he unpins himself from the machines. The tiles are like ice under his feet but he crosses the river easily. Under her covers the sun is warm and bright. He can taste her scent, he can feel the heat her body is hiding under her skin. She stirs slowly and finally turns around to him, her face all shadows, her shape clear to his inner sight. He feels her hand on his skin, the fist under his chest is pounding again, hitting hard against the walls of his body. He hesitates to touch her lips but he finds them soft and waiting and pulls her close, into him, but she knows better and slips a hand past his waist where it lies waiting, waiting. Her fingers are gentle, stroking muscle and skin, applying pressure in places he had forgotten existed. Under her breath she starts to speak, softly, the fall of her voice familiar like breathing seeping into his head like warmth filling it with something lost and forgotten her hand moving warm soft fitting the rush of blood to his head drains and congeals to something hard and hot that disintegrates like a sharp sound of glass breaking in the sun.

Morning finds him alone with Hunter, the other bed empty except for the sunlight spilling over it as if wasted. He has no memory of what happened after the breaking. All he knows is that his body is hungry and he has to leave this place, return to the city and find that space where they can talk again.

* * *

The door opens. Dana looks up and is disappointed again. Christie has told her to stop hoping, ‘He won’t come darlin’, they never do when you want them to.’ But Dana can’t help it. It’s been three months since they met so randomly in that club, where he saw her and walked up to her, where they danced and he paid a few drinks, where they kissed and she let him take her home. She hadn’t thought about it, it just happened, just like leaves fall off a tree.

Dana tries to concentrate on the new order, but memory is a tricky thing. Sometimes it’s very accurate, and while she leans over the counter to place the next order, she remembers how he held her hips and kissed the corner between her neck and ear, right there, that small hollow.

The door opens again and Dana looks at the newcomer, but it’s never him. He left early in the morning while she was still asleep, and Christie said she should be grateful she got him at all, he wasn’t the kind you could just get that easily. Samantha said, ‘Enjoy it, sweetie. They’re not always as good as this.’

The woman on the other side of the counter asks for the steak menu and Dana smiles and writes down the order. She asks if the woman wants an aside, but she shakes her head and Dana passes her order after pouring out some coffee. At this time of the day, the first cup’s for free.

‘Amanda,’ someone says. Dana turns around. Her whole body smiles. He’s leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, wearing one of those big black jackets, it fits him very well. It’s still very cold outside and his scull cap looks spotless white on his skin. ‘Hi,’ he says and Dana says ‘Hi,’ back. ‘How’d you know I’d come out now?’ ‘It’s nine o’clock,’ is all he says, and she remembers that she told him about her work and her real name and where she was born. That was why he called her Amanda. That was her real name, except she never used it, not here, not anymore. ‘You hungry?’ he asks and Dana nods though she’s not. He suggests going somewhere, and they end up in another diner, far nicer, in another part of town. He asks her about her day, they talk about movies and music. It’s as if he’d never seen her naked. Dana doesn’t know what she is, happy to see him or disappointed at his obvious cool. Yet she doesn’t mention it and smiles when the waitress walks up to their table. She orders a pizza and so does he, she drinks a soda and he takes a coke as well. She wants to ask him why he’s here but instead she asks if he finished reading his books. He smiles and says he’s been a bit busy lately. His eyes are serious when he says that, but Dana doesn’t ask on.

At her door, Dana feels fidgety and can barely get the key into the lock. She opens it, and steps in, but he doesn’t follow. He stays in the doorway and says, ‘I’ve gotta go.’ Dana doesn’t know what to say. She watches him walk down the stairs, but just before he’s gone he turns around and asks, ‘Are you busy tomorrow?’ Dana shakes her head, on Saturdays she only works till four. ‘There’s this thing at a friend’s place. Wanna come?’ Dana’s surprise makes her smile, ‘Yeah, why not.’ ‘Pick you up at six?’ Dana nods, he smiles and next moment he’s out of sight.

Nisha and I had a fight. It started with Aly finding out what J. did up in that cabin, so of course I went with her. He looks awful, man. It must be those pills they’re giving him. Aly wouldn’t leave his room, always held his hand, wouldn’t budge unless I forced her to get some dinner. She even took off work and stayed the week till he was stable again, they say he lost a lot of blood. It got me thinking. Nisha’s fine and all, but if a brother threw a loop, I don’t know if she’d stick around for long. Anyway, it got me thinking and I started asking some questions. Nisha said they were stupid questions, but it’s not like I don’t have to think about what’s coming next. I didn’t start college for nothin’. And after seeing J. and Aly I started wonderin’ if Nisha would come along with me. All she said was ‘Hon, you really think you’ll make it? Talk all superior and kiss their asses – you think that’ll make ‘em forget who you are?’ I got angry. I mean, Aly made it, she was clever and stuck to school and got through. She met J. for God’s sake but Nisha says that don’t count. ‘J.’s nuts, everyone knows that, Aly’s just lucky he’s so into her.’ We started shouting and then I left the house. Sometimes I can’t live with that woman.

Anyway, I’m at Jermaine’s now, got my stuff from Nisha before she starts burning it all, she’s done it before. I’ll be in my own place next week, Aly’s moved in with J. who’s back in town. He can’t be on his own, and he’s got enough to keep her going fine, so it’s all good. I haven’t seen Nisha for a while though. Vaughn says she’s fucking that guy from the studio, at least they’ve been out together a couple o’ times. It’s okay. We need some space. I need to think a bit and it’s nice having a place on your own, Jermaine’s basically never home.

September 12, 2014May 16, 2020

hugh’s corner

It was a warm Saturday morning when Carol Jones knocked on the door of Hugh’s Corner 75. She just flew in from Hawaii and took a cab. Now she was standing in a narrow street, trying to follow the directions her sister Liz had given her over the phone. ‘It’s between Ocean Park and Sea Drive. Just take a cab, the driver should know,’ but the driver did not know.

Liz had never been on the accurate side of things. When she broke off college in her junior year to marry Seth Hayne, all she told Carol and their parents was that Seth came from Chicago and was the sweetest man on earth. She never mentioned he was already an attorney in one of the leading law-firms, and came from what was called old money. Now, ten years later, Liz was Miss Jones again, and all Liz had told Carol so far was that their lifestyles had diverged. Liz liked to use words like that when she didn’t want to tell you anything.

Carol finally found the 75, walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. No answer. She looked at her watch, it said nine thirty five. She tried again.

‘That’s not Red’s boy.’

Saturday afternoon, late, the sky was overcast. There was a haze on the sand in front of Hugh’s Corner 75. Liz Jones was standing with her back against the balcony, smoking, a cup of coffee on the railing next to her.

In the morning, she had opened her front door groggily to incessant knocking. Carol, her sister, stood before her with an overnight bag and a sleeping baby in her arms. She looked exhausted. There had been a brief exchange, nothing important. Liz had pulled out the couch in the spare bedroom and watched her sister and the baby sleep for a while before going back to bed. Now, she was wide awake, wearing her usual frayed shorts and white shirt, waiting for her painted toe nails to dry. Carol was in the kitchen, mashing some bananas for the baby. The baby was only in diapers, sitting on a blanket a step away from Liz’ feet, playing with a toy. Liz had never been the motherly type. She liked watching mothers, and sometimes envied the satisfied laughter of their children, but the moment one started screaming she knew why she’d been careful all these years.

‘What?’ Carol asked, still stirring the mashed bananas in the bowl. She looked haunted in a way, as if she’d seen several ghosts at once. Her dark hair hung in loose curls all the way to her shoulders, making her face look thinner than it actually was. Her eyes were wide, a lighter blue than Liz’, and a little too bright. Liz remembered how readily Carol used to smile, how her face had beamed when she got accepted, and so could head to Berkeley. And how dreamy her voice became when she talked about Red, the often-proclaimed Love Of Her Life. Red, that was Stuart Montgomery, nicknamed Red due to his flaming red hair. He was a History professor who decide midway through his tenure-track that life was too short to waste in between books and classrooms, quit his job and moved to Hawaii. Carol, not exactly his best student, but his most enthusiastic, followed him in a moment of rashness, found him in a cottage on Maui and decided she’d found Heaven.

Liz had smiled when Carol sent her a picture of Red and herself a few weeks later. They were on the beach near their little house, sitting on the sand, Red holding a bottle of beer and smiling at Carol who was adjusting the spangle in his hair. They looked happy, and Liz had felt envious. She never regretted leaving college, but marrying Seth Hayne had proven to be less of the Heaven she had thought it would be. The first two years had been wonderful, but then they bought the House near the Lake, and Seth lost all interest. He held her hand, and kissed her good-morning and good-night, but that was all she ever got. He worked all day and half the night, and was always busy on weekends – if not with work, then with making the House a perfect Nest, as he always called it. And so she didn’t complain. How could she, if he was working his hind legs off to make her life comfortable. He felt guilty enough for having plucked her out of her college life and fairly plunged her into the real world of marriage and responsibilities.

In any case, by the time Carol’s photograph of bliss fluttered into her mailbox, Liz and Seth had already been married seven years. Five of which were long and lonely, though she had a nice life, a perfect life, full of dinners, parties, friends and holiday trips to Europe and Maine. That was her life two years ago. Now she was divorced, living in a small apartment between Ocean Park and Sea Drive, trying to come to terms with the fact that all the while, Seth had not been straight. He had never been, he simply saw her as a fantastic alibi, one his whole family would accept without question. She was ‘steady’ he said, and ‘sensible.’ After the shock and the tears, after the humiliation, Liz had hated him most for that.

‘K.J. no, don’t do that,’ Liz heard Carol say.
‘Why K. J. actually?’ she asked, watching Carol sit down cross-legged on the blanket before lifting the baby onto her lap.
‘Kahoku Jones,’ Carol replied, feeding the baby.
‘Kahoku? You’re kidding.’
‘No. It’s actually Kahoku Manaki Jones, but that’s too long. K.J. suits just fine, don’t you think?’

It was how she said it, defeated. Liz just looked at her sister and wondered what had happened. Carol looked crushed, as if a part of her, a large part, had broken to pieces. And yet, she was very gentle with the baby, absolutely loving, cooing and cajoling, praising the little thing’s success in eating well. Kahoku Manaki Jones. Liz exhaled. She was right. K.J. suited just fine.

‘Is there a meaning to those names?’ Liz asked.
‘Would you mind not smoking while he’s here?’ Carol asked instead.

Liz just shrugged, pinched out the cigarette and flicked it off onto the pavement below. The small street circled Hugh’s Corner, separating the wood from the sand without blocking the ocean view. There was a tall palm tree to the right of the house, but next to a few haphazard azaleas that was the only greenery in sight. Liz didn’t have any patience for plants.

‘So, is there a meaning?’
‘Kahoku means star. Manaki means wind.’
‘Star Wind Jones,’ Liz said laughed. Carol said nothing.
‘Ok. Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry, we won’t be staying long,’ Carol said, speaking to the baby.

Liz felt a sudden pang of guilt. It was probably why she said, ‘We should go to Disneyland then.’‘He’s too young for that,’ Carol said, finally looking up at Liz. She looked close to tears. The guilt grew thicker, stronger. She’d known something wasn’t right for a while now, but she could never put a finger on it, Carol was always so vague. Then again, she didn’t like phones. She preferred letters, but Liz was a bad letter-writer, she always forgot to answer.

‘We can just walk around and enjoy the view,’ Liz said, picked up her cold coffee and walked back in. She had to get away from that cloud of guilt that was growing thicker, darker, on the balcony. Carol looked like she genuinely needed help, only Liz didn’t know what kind. What was she to give a mother and a child? The baby was a sweet thing with black curls and large dark eyes, but that wasn’t what made Liz watch the little thing for so long. It was his face. It had Maui stamped all over it. He definitely wasn’t Red’s child.

* * *

Someone once asked me where I come from and at first I wanted to say L.A. but then I thought that wasn’t enough. Venice Beach was the next option, but that really wasn’t all that right either. I grew up between Ocean Park and Sea Drive, in a small stretch of apartment buildings that’s Hugh’s Corner. Don’t ask me why it’s Hugh’s Corner, and not Paul’s or Andy’s. It’s Hugh’s Corner, a world of its own.

Ok. So, there’s Ma and Q, Ben, of course, Master An, the wise man, Ray the Monk, the Bernardis, Jamie, Little Miss Tinkerbell, Nova, Mac, Molly and Skip, Cappy, oh my Cappy, Tins in No Ming and Miss Liz. That should be it.

Now, if you knew about me, you’d ask: What about K.J.? And a couple of weeks ago, I’d have said: He left some time back. He’s history. But now with Miss Liz in a coma, I can’t say that anymore.

K.J. and Miss Liz are our neighbors. We, that’s Ma, Q and I, live in Hugh’s Corner 73 and 74. We used to live in the Palisades with my Dad, but after the second time Ma found him in bed with another woman, she filed a divorce and started a new life. No Prince of Bel Air for us. Ma gets alimony, but it’s all put into a trust-fund for Q and myself what with college and all.

There was a time when I believed God existed and miracles could happen. I used to sing in our church just a block away from Marina del Ray. I was a ‘mezzosoprano’ and could hold a note long enough to get a satisfied smile from Pastor Williams. Then Patricia, his wonderful daughter, found me kissing Louis DeJean (tenor) in the backroom, and through her lies and Louis and my own shame, Pat convinced Pastor Williams that we were fornicating under the eyes of God. May I add that Pat had been doing exactly that since Louis moved with his Pa from Dallas. All through our trial in Pastor Williams’ office, I prayed to God that He may exercise his omnipotence and make Pastor Williams understand that Louis and I had only succumbed to the heat of the moment, and only kissed, really, truly, honest to God kissed. He did not. I was expelled from the Choir and Louis cancelled from the next Thanksgiving concert. He stayed on though, as Pat somehow managed to weave the Adam and Eve story into her whole web of lies, which made me the sinner and Louis the victim. What hurt most was that Louis never said anything, he just stopped talking to me as if I had a huge A on my chest.

In any case, by my sixteenth birthday, I’d stopped going to church all together and Ma never said a thing. But this is really about K.J., not me, K.J. who’s got the summer triangle inked under his right ear, what’re they called – oh yeah, Vega, Deneb and Altair. He told me that night, Skip’s birthday barbeque, Miss Liz didn’t mind that he got them. Apparently she said his body was his body, as long as he could deal with the consequences. I wish Ma would say stuff like that.

Anyway, K.J.’s on Maui now. People think he’s surfing, I know he’s looking for his Dad. I don’t know if he’s found him yet, nobody here’s seen or talked to him a really long time, but I have to talk to him now. I just can’t find him. I’ve tried everything save flying over, and I can’t fly over, I don’t have the cash ready and Ma won’t budge. Apparently, I’ve gotta finish school first. Ma always calls college school. I still need to do something though. Miss Liz is in a coma and K.J.’s basically fallen off the face of the earth.

Which is why I’m talking to You, yes, You, up there. Bring him back. Whatever it is, do it. If you’re there, this is your chance. Do something. Now. I’m not gonna pray about it, I’m just sayin’ what needs to be done, so do it. Please. K.J. really needs to come back home now. Like, right now. Not in seven days or forty days or forty years or some weird stuff like that. I mean now, ok? Have him come back home now, really, now, coz Asha Carol’s not about to fly out of India soon and do something about it.