Equation by Michael Brown

ÂŠ Michael D. Brown 2010

Contents Six Characters in Search of Answers Once, with Another Woman Six Clues to a Breakup Nice People The Hidden Curriculum Dissemblance + Postcards

Six Characters in Search of Answers Legacy Margaret couldn‟t sleep that first night in the motel bed. Elsewhere sleep came easier. Those she‟d left behind would remember her. She‟d made certain. She‟d left a wedding-cakesized treat on her ex-kitchen table, and wondered if anyone had noticed the empty Comet cans by the sink. “Everything spotless,” was her last thought before drifting off.

50-50 Split One precious drop of fluid left; the interview a week away. How would life be without having everything his way? Avery felt like the worm in horseradish. He‟d probably learn to cope. Could he get by on charm alone? Nervously, he rubbed the little bottle, and wished he‟d become a chemist instead of divorcing one.

55 Words Sharon‟s note contained only 55 vituperative words. Matt had counted them over and over. Sharon, usually so talkative, wouldn‟t take his calls. Her note said nothing really; not why she was going, nor where, nor whether she intended to return. It didn‟t tell him what he‟d done. And yet he was stung by its venom.

Six Characters in Search of Answers Sep 14

Recollection Alma can picture each item that was taken. She clearly remembers everything that was said. She remembers the robber‟s tone of voice. She recalls cool, sharp steel against her throat, and how it seemed to warm to her body heat. She remembers wetting herself. For all of that, she can‟t recall why she was there.

Everyman People see a ragged man crying on a corner, and wonder why. Does he cry over what he‟s lost? Did he ever have more than he possesses now? Did he lose a high-paying job? Was he abandoned by his family? Is he truly insane, or has he only lost his way on a longer journey?

Six Characters Looking for a Story Margaret poisoned the family she deserted, and now cannot eat. Avery believes life without magic isn‟t worth living, and dreams of suicide. Sharon‟s heart is filled with hatred, and Matt feels confused and inadequate. Alma has been robbed. The man on the corner cries. The only thing each wants to know is what happens next?

Once, with Another Woman my grandmother Once, with another woman, who was not my grandmother, my grandfather sat on a park bench and fed peanuts to squirrels. My grandmother was in the hospital at the time, having fallen and broken her hip. She was never as lively after that and died within the year. My grandfather saw the other woman only once, three months after they fed the squirrels. She was walking with a younger man and nodded to Grandpa. He said he felt embarrassed at the recognition.

my mother Once, with another woman, who was not my mother, my father won quite a bit of money on a lottery ticket. Dad worked with Patsy, and they often split the cost of a ticket. Patsy took a trip to Atlantic City and was lucky at the slots. She doubled her money, then left the company and married her longtime boyfriend. Dad put up aluminum siding on the house and took Mom out to dinner and the theater. He bought another lottery ticket that night, but didn't win anything.

my aunt Once, with another woman, who was not my aunt, my uncle Ray bought womenâ&#x20AC;&#x;s underwear. He had asked a shopper to help him get the size right. He wanted to surprise Aunt Marie. He wanted to enliven their intimacy. She wanted to know why he had bought her items made for a much larger woman. She said she was insulted and refused to wear any of the sexy but large undergarments.

my sister Once, with another woman, who was not my sister, I was standing on a crowded subway train. I said to her, "I don't mean to be fresh, but you look just like my sister Arlene, right down to the way your nose turns up at the end." She didn't respond, but went back to looking at her newspaper. She got off at the next stop and before the train pulled away, she glared at me through the window. She seemed to be waiting on the platform. She seemed to have expected me to get off with her, or at least in deference to her.

my wife Once, with another woman, who was not my wife, I slept in a hotel room in another town. I was on a business trip and I had had too much to drink at the hotel bar. She told me her name was Rita and that she was recently divorced. She wore a diaphragm. It only happened once and I've never told my wife, but I feel so guilty. Sometimes, in the shower, I look down at myself and wonder how such a small item could cause such a big headache.

my daughter Once, with another woman, who was not my daughter, I sat at my daughter's wedding reception. My wife, at another table, was sitting and speaking with my sister Arlene. They were well within earshot, but I guess they didn't know I could hear my wife say to Arlene, "Yes, well he talks in his sleep, you know." The woman next to me, who could also hear them, said to me in a low voice, "Jeez, I wouldn't want to be that woman's husband. How about getting us a drink, sweetie?" I couldn't remember having met her before or even what her name was.

Six Clues to a Breakup I She liked to talk; that much was evident. She had been described variously as loquacious, garrulous, sometimes downright chatty, and she liked to write. Her excessive verbiage was filled with tautologies, periphrasis and prolixity. Editors asked her to stop beating around the bush. She said they were all philistines. It was poetry she was after.

II He had his outlet; she had hers. Hers, she thought, did not endanger their relationship. In some ways, she was just as guilty. She'd let herself go, while propounding on the right way to be. He'd let himself be dissuaded from his dreams, seeking recompense elsewhere. Things remained static until discontent bubbled to the surface.

III During drinks with his director, he put her down. She exercised, dieted and toned; had dental work done. By summer's end she was buff, moving through life at sixty miles per hour. She'd made herself over. She ran a foot race; he slowed to a crawl. He'd created a monster that grew out of hand.

IV It was his boss's sympathy toward her circumstances that made her feel inadequate. It made her feel confined, running in place. She was averse to any kind of sympathy. Mostly she despised him for winking as if he understood. He was patronizing her. He stroked her pudgy fingers when they both reached for the salt.

V He found poems, but couldn't deduce what she was trying to say. In college, he played football, and when she wrote of her hero, he recognized her emotions. He thought that was the voice he married. These words he now held were the voice of another. They were not beautiful. He saw her in them.

VI She said if he saw her in that light, she would be that person. He said he loved her for what she was. She said he didn't have a clue. He said give me one then; just help me out here. She said she wasn't her brother's keeper, and then she left. He remained clueless.

Nice People A Way of Life Word spread among the villagers, and nothing is more savory than gossip relayed in confidential tones. Someone would be stoned, someone responsible, or otherwise. Village life could not proceed in its comfortable fashion lest an example be set. Fair trials had dispelled the witches and their sorcery long ago. Justice had routed disrespectful intruders. A way of life was at stake.

Contingency Winter in Denver brought change. It calloused his vision. No longer could he write warmheartedly and with expansiveness. On his return to Chiapas, he saw every brown smiling face as hiding some shifty plan never to be carried out. His brief sojourn had given him cold insight. In a magnifying makeup mirror, in the hotel, while rubbing his face, and deciding not to shave, he had looked into his own eyes for a long, long time.

Down and Out Upstart, Through and Through S/he was a little vixen, attractive, but nothing special. Thought s/he had many talents, or at least more than one, but sadly, it was only the one, and it wasn't much of a talent. It was derivative; it had been done before, and better. Quick-witted; I'll give her/him that much, in her/his "business" one needs to be. Beauty doesn't last forever, and if there is little beauty to begin with, well, be wary when hers/his fades. What a friendless hag s/he promises to become.

Six Seconds Near the end of their outblown discussion about art, perhaps out of sheer frustration, Jack turned round to face Amanda and said, “Your mind is like a thesaurus. You know about twenty-seven ways to express everything. Enough with the esoteric poetry, already! Write something we can sink our teeth into—the way you used to.” He couldn‟t have pierced her heart more cleanly if he‟d sharpened the words before spitting them out, and suddenly she could think of only one way of saying what came to her mind. In its place, she said nothing.

Gray Noir “I swear, sometimes I can‟t tell night from day anymore,” Jake said, furrowing his brow as he exhaled. “Go by what you see me wearing,” Mona suggested barely above a whisper, which seemed about as much as she could manage from within the confines of her black satin sheath. “Do I look as if I‟m dressed for a walk in the park?” He glanced at the revolver in her well-manicured hand, and said, “Baby, you look like you‟re dressed for business, and by the way, where‟d you leave the body?” “What body?” she asked. “Jake, why do you always have to confound the situation by worrying over pointless details?”

Diminishing Returns “I thought I had a good thing going here,” he said. “You did once,” she said, and quoted Coleridge. Something about experience only illuminating the path walked on, or words to that effect. “Should I try and make a fresh start?” he said while flicking the remote control. “It behooves you.” “But I was just getting used to the system,” he said, and turned off the music.

The Hidden Curriculum I Theresa would not do anything with those who considered themselves her best friends. Her best friends, she thought, would understand why she couldn‟t attend with her former enthusiasm. Inside of three months, about when she began to show, she had cut off all contact with her group. Not engaging her Economics professor, the cause of her distress, prompted a drop in her grades. Gary, her fiancé, had plans which required marriage remain on hold throughout their college years. Soon, however, Theresa began to see Gary as a sustainable advantage. II Carl‟s wife, a former Philosophy teacher, was dying. Although they had shared passion in the 1960s, they now had only a tacit understanding. Nora wore a skull cap or a wig most days. Neither pronounced the word cancer in front of each other. Of all their acquaintances, there was none with whom Carl could compare notes. Theresa had been a brief diversion. III Before their son came home from Spain, Nora had an upswing. Even Carl felt an uncustomary breeziness in that month. Unless it was the weather, he would have sworn his wife was in remission. Nothing he said or did dismayed her. Likening the situation to a spring thaw, he considered the law of unintended consequences. Evan might need be told only good news.

IV Autumn arrived in complex golden hues, and so did Evan. Right away, despite his sunny demeanor, he suspected something was amiss. Not only were his parents warmly quiet, but his mother had lost a lot of weight. Either she was sick, or she was on another of her drastic diets. Dieting had been one of her youthful tactics. Feeling the chill between his parents, was mostly what had sent him to Europe. V One afternoon, after playing tennis with Gary, and listening dutifully, Evan saw his father in town. Righteous indignation flushed his cheeks when Carl kissed Theresa in the way a lover might. Not having all the facts, Evan was aware of a relevance paradox should he assume too much. Unless he was mistaken, however, he had witnessed the reasons for his mother‟s latest actions. Learned parents breed sophistication, and Evan surmised his mother was aware of his father‟s dalliance. Likely as not though, his friend Gary had no inkling as to the source of his woes. VI Evan hinted at the subject, and learned his mother indeed knew the facts, and she spoke of her cancer. Facing her fate as bravely as she knew how, she asked him not to hate his father. Forgiving does not comprise forgetting nor remembering, she told him, “only stopping—in both senses.” Evening in the autumn-colored town brought Evan to the café where he ran into Gary and Theresa. Coffee steaming in front of them, the men had little to say as Theresa read a story by Nabakov. This one is a puzzle, she told them.

Dissemblance I Twenty men arrived for the part-time positions. The foreman needed two. Had he known his wife would wake him rudely that morning, he would have slept at Ann-Marie's place. He was cranky and out of sorts. The men were all cheerfully wide awake and fit. The foreman decided none of the prospects suited the job. II Ann-Marie smoked incessantly in every room but her bedroom. All her furniture was stained yellow. There was a pall that hung in the unairconditioned area of her apartment. This presented no problem when Jack came to visit. They had once spent seventeen hours in her bed. She often thought she should have quit that day.

III Jack grew to despise factory work because it was repetitive. Lately, each evening, he found his wife ready to continue her haranguing from the night before. It was not as though they had fallen out of love. The signs had always been there. He considered Ann-Marie a respite. Visiting her, however, was more than problematic.

IV Sandy met Ann-Marie at a Smokersâ&#x20AC;&#x; Anonymous session. Sandy was trying to quit her half pack a day habit. She felt it was damaging her complexion. Ann-Marie said she was quitting to please her boyfriend, an unhappily married man. Sandy was not judgmental initially. That began when she learned the man was her own husband.

V If two negatives make a positive, a third brings the equation back into the red. Jack was unhappy at work. Sandy hated her philandering husband, and sought vengeance. Ann-Marie grew irritable due to nicotine withdrawal. If he changed his job, or Sandy found happiness elsewhere, or â&#x20AC;Ś Of course, solutions are rarely arrived at easily. VI Jack was fired for incompetence, but soon found something he enjoyed doing, working with stray animals. Sandy met an exsmoker into older women, and moved to Seattle. Ann-Marie also quit her habit, complained Jack smelled doggy, and stopped seeing him. All things pass. Nothing is set in stone. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x;s all done with smoke and mirrors.

Postcards 1. I walked with my head down this evening from the Central Avenue, and reached Fifteenth Avenue North before I realized I was heading in the wrong direction. I live now in a town populated by folks whose greetings are dictated by the color of the sky, which should be of little concern to me, as people rarely greet me these days. It‟s getting so bad that if I wake up feeling poorly, I‟m liable to take the whole day off from work, sometimes without calling to notify anyone, as if somebody might notice no lights had been turned on in my little cubicle down in Siberia. You don‟t call; you don‟t write. Anyway, the weather is fine. Wish you were here? 2. The man who lives next door keeps a jitney parked in his driveway, and I wonder what he uses it for as I never see him leaving the house. He‟s put up a placard in his front window announcing that he is a Certified Public Accountant. Who‟s going to see it besides me? We live in a cul-de-sac, and his is the last house in. Things around here are changing, and not for the better, faster than you can shake a stick. Someone‟s feeling sorry for himself. 3. I‟ve done nothing but pout since I got on that train. You seemed happy enough for my going. Is he as good to you as I should have been? Do you miss our quiet evenings, or have you replaced them with something you can live in? Take a look at your watch as you read this. What time is it back home?

4. They always say there‟s no time like the present, and never put off „til tomorrow, yadda, yadda. I remember my mother‟s anger, and my father‟s complacency. They lived together, barely living, for over thirty years. When he died, she followed shortly after. She had no one left with whom to be angry, or she wanted to continue the bout in some other realm. You remind me of her in the way you smile. 5. The man next door replaced his placard with a Going Out of Business sign, and so I decided to have dinner somewhere nice by myself. I never got to know him well enough to invite him, but I figured I could celebrate for the both of us, in my fashion. I assumed he achieved success in some other endeavor. Perhaps he‟s getting married to the woman of his dreams. As I toasted his possible triumph, I wondered if it would be too forward of me to ask him to sell me his jitney. It would be a damn site easier getting home in that if I ever find myself walking a mile in the wrong direction. 6. I wonder. Do you feel like trying again? Ditch that guy, and let‟s give it another shot. I swear. It wasn‟t me the first time. It was my evil twin.

MAN

WOMAN

Michael D. Brown is originally from New York, and currently teaches ESL in southern Mexico. He is the administrator of MuDJoB.

http://mudjob.blogspot.com