Saturday, March 21, 2009

Waiting For My Rapture

Raised eyebrows and whispers rode on her long train as she walked out the church door. Only their eyes followed her. She continued down the street. If anyone were watching they would have seen her remove her shoes, place them neatly on the curb and continue up the hill where she stopped to stand.

She did not see me---startled, unmoving, holding my breath. I crouched down low, leveled my back with the tall grass, let the rock in front of me bear some of my weight. Dry weeds entered my nose and open mouth, but I remained still. As I waited, candle wax dripped, second hands jumped, mothers sang lullabies. The moon watched her and smiled, the stars fought to get a better look.


She freed herself from the shackle of satin ivory, the heavy mass puddled at her feet. The air rose around me fragrant and heavy. Lavender, magnolia, mountain laurel? I couldn’t place it, it wasn’t mine to place. She moved to stand on a jagged boulder, a fang on the side of the cliff. She stood close to the edge, wrapped her toes around its strength, and held her face to the endless night sky. Dark hair fell across her back; skin silvered by the moon's light.
“Are you ready for me?” she asked. Her voice was song.

The moon winked. She closed her eyes, and she was gone.

I’ve grown old now. Over the years I think I’ve seen her face in the yellow-pink shadows of dusk. Sometimes I hear her song in the moments between sleep and waking. I have lived my life mostly forgetting, but sometimes remembering what I saw.

Late last June I climbed that fanged hill. Stood naked upon her rock and squeezed my crooked toes around it. I looked to the sky, held my gaze on the moon.
“Are you ready for me?”
The moon did not wink. I stood, arms reaching, stretching for her light. I was much too far away.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

First Sight

Yesterday I think I fell in love with a man that works behind the food counter at K-mart and smells like hamsters. To be honest he looks a bit like a hamster too. His cheeks are fat and round and his upper lip arches so that his front teeth show all the time, not just when he’s smiling or talking.

I’d never eaten at K-mart before. I was there to get a garden hose and gumballs for my penny machine and I got lost. I wandered around and found myself standing in front of a short wall that separated me from department store concessions. At first I just wanted iced tea, but then I saw the hot dogs straining in their pink skins, rolling over the hot metal treadmill. Anyway, I don’t know what happened, but I saw those hot dogs and I saw him standing there looking like Bandit, the hamster I had when I was nine. My heart pounded as I stepped forward. He wore a plastic hairnet with a red baseball cap over it and khakis that were cinched too tightly at the waist.
“Hi. What can I get for ya?”
“Can I have a large iced tea and a hot dog with onions, please?” My voice squeaked and my throat itched. I leaned my hips into the counter to steady myself.
He just nodded and pushed the buttons on the register. His name tag read “Buddy”.
“$5.23…Hey, I could put some of the nacho cheese on there for ya. That’s what I do. It’s real good. I won’t charge extra.”
“That’d be great.” I wondered if he offered it to everyone, or just me.
I wanted to offer him a gumball of his choice. I wanted to jump the counter and bury my nose in his neck to inhale enough of him to last my lonely drive home. I wanted to wear that hairnet.
“Here ya go.” He handed me my tea and hot dog. “Tell me what you think.”
I didn’t want to take a bite in front of him, but I smiled and did anyway. The cheese was so hot it scorched the roof of my mouth and I had to spit the whole bite out into the paper boat it came in. The ball of food landed and sat at the corner steaming.
His eyes opened wide. “Oh.” he said quietly.
We both stared at the half-chewed bite for a second. My eyes filled with tears. I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to say or do, so I leaned across the counter, inhaled him deeply and turned to walk away. I set the gumballs down on the first table I passed and ran out the automatic doors without looking back.

On my drive home I smelled my hands and tried to pick up his scent. With my tongue I gently prodded the growing blister on the roof of my mouth. Then I pushed into its softness until it gave. I thought about his big, yellow front teeth. His fat, round cheeks. They were plump like the hot dogs and I wondered what he had stored in there.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

solace

below we could go
below the surface
tender and raw
rocks and roots
they beckon us
where cover awaits
and surrender is expected

down we could go
worms and mud alike
the world continues on
the drudgery and beauty--
hand and hand like we two

beneath the sand
a weighted blanket
hidden deep and dark
below we could go
away and away
emerging is a mystery
silence and weight
silence and wait

Gone

Loretta pushed the balls of her socked feet into the dashboard in front of the passenger seat, squeezing her quadriceps until they shook. She closed her gritty eyes and willed another car to emerge from the darkness. Something other than soft rock to float out of the radio. A new piece of gum to materialize in her dry mouth.

The cold air coming off the window hung by her shoulder and upper arm. She moved her hair to block the chill, an impromptu shawl. Loretta watched the moon follow them for awhile, bright and low in the sky, then turned to glance at Mick. He was leaning into the steering wheel in an awkward, uncomfortable way. On another night it might have been endearing. Might have caused her to reach out to him, put her smallish hand on the thickness of his neck and massage the tightness that permanently resided there. But tonight it was only annoying. Mick mouthed the words to a power ballad she'd never heard before, his lips moving slightly behind the music.

She felt the hollowness of pure exhaustion in the depths her belly. A crawling restlessness started in her calves and worked its way up into her solar plexus. Loretta pushed against the dash again, feeling the dense foam give under the pressure. As soon as she closed her eyes, she heard it. A deep, sickening thud began somewhere near the front of the car, moved closer to her side, then was gone. The car shook a bit, and swerved slightly as Mick instinctively pushed on the brakes.


He whipped his gaze to meet hers, eyes confused and startled, "What was that?"
"How could I possibly know what that was? I'm not the one driving! You didn't see anything?" Loretta felt her hands shaking and she was embarassingly aware of the strange yelp she'd made at the moment of impact.
Mick turned to look out the back window into the darkness, "No...whatever it was came out of nowhere."
Loretta shifted slowly in her seat, "Or...maybe your reflexes are a little slow tonight."
"What?" His chin jutted forward and his mouth tightened.
"I'm just saying maybe you had one too many drinks tonight." Her heart pounded, but her voice remained steady and calm, she was ready for this fight.
"I'm fine." he said sharply.

Loretta could feel his rage in the cold darkness of the stopped car. The air between them was tight and thick. He pushed the door open and swung his legs out in one swift movement, slamming the door hard enough to make the car rock. Loretta shoved her feet into her clogs, wrapped her too-big jacket around her chest, hands shoved deep in the pockets and got out of the car. She walked around to the front of the car to inspect the grill and hood and saw nothing. No dent and thankfully, no blood. She was still shaking, nervy from the collision and her accusation. The 20 degree temperature wasn't helping. She intended to appear cool and distant, righteous even, and something about her chattering teeth and shaking knees belied her.

Mick's heavy boots pounded the asphalt as he made his way down the center of the lane. Loretta knew he must be cold without a jacket. She watched as he walked into the sickly, yellow glow of the street light. His shoulders were high, close to his ears, and he was pumping his fists as he looked into the darkness for what he may have hit. Loretta watched the broadness of his back, the concerned tilt of his head and swallowed hard. She felt instantly guilty. It had been an unnecessary dig, accusing him of being drunk. If she'd been really worried, she could have driven herself.

She moved quickly to match her smaller strides with his large ones until she'd caught up and they were facing each other, "See anything?"
He shook his head slowly, "Nothing..." His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes darted across the invisible horizon.

Each turned where they stood, an odd, slow dance of disconcertion and anxiety. Loretta and Mick strained their eyes into the darkness and their ears into the distance. They kept turning until they faced one another again. She reached a bare, shaky hand from her warm pocket and placed her fingertips lightly on his chest. She felt the cushion of his chest hair underneath his thin shirt, the quickness of his breath. He turned his face to hers and exhaled long and deep. A thin, colorless fog moved from his mouth and rose up to fill the space between them.