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REVOLUTION HOUSE STAFF June 2011 EXECUTIVE EDITOR Alisha Karabinus MANAGING EDITORS Fati Z. Ahmed Elaina Smith CREATIVE NONFICTION EDITORS Jaime Herndon Jami Nakamura Lin FICTION EDITORS Karen Britten Todd Gray Carol H. Hood Sarah Kamlet Koty Neelis Katie Oldaker POETRY EDITORS Jonathan Dubow Henry W. Leung Karissa Morton Susannah Nevison Staci R. Schoenfeld

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Cover photograph “Alcatraz” by Valerie Rubinaccio

Well, here we are. Welcome to the Revolution House. From the vantage of the winding dirt road, the house may not seem like much. It’s a little old, a little rickety, the doorframe a little crooked. But there’s pie cooling in WKH NLWFKHQ DW GXVN \RX FDQ VLW RQ WKH EDFN SRUFK DQG ZDWFK WKH ¿UHÀLHV GDQFH Things happen here. Children grow and learn; they discover fathers, friends, themselves. Foxes chase hens around the yard. In the extra bedroom, an empty bassinet waits. The smell of fresh oak lingers. The walls are alive with words. In March, we decided to start a magazine. I had an idea, a dream, and when I hesitantly shared it with a group of friends, I discovered they had ideas and dreams of WKHLU RZQ /LNH PDJLF HYHU\WKLQJ IHOO LQWR SODFH ZH KDG VSHFLDOLVWV LQ SRHWU\ LQ ¿FWLRQ DQG FUHDWLYH QRQ¿FWLRQ ERWK DUWLVWV H[SHULHQFHG VRFLDO PHGLD SOD\HUV D WHUUL¿F JUDSKLF GHVLJQHU DQG D UHOXFWDQW FRGHU \RXUV WUXO\ :LWK EULFNV DQG ERDUGV we began. We built. And we learned something important, a caution we’ll share: Don’t start a magazine on a whim. It’s hard. There are decisions to be made. Questions that sometimes demand imPHGLDWH DQG GLI¿FXOW DQVZHUV 6NLOOV WKDW PXVW EH GLVFRYHUHG RU UH¿QHG :H KDG WR OHDUQ WR VD\ QR DQG RIWHQ WR ZRQGHUIXO ZRUN :H KDG WR GH¿QH DQ DHVWKHWLF WKDW would accommodate the wildly varying tastes of sixteen people. How did we manage that? The answer: carefully, and with consideration. But we found our way, at last, to the house we dreamed of on those nights before we were editors, when we were just a group a struggling writers commiserating on )DFHERRN $QG DV LW WXUQV RXW" 6WDUWLQJ D PDJD]LQH RQ D ZKLP LVQœW VXFK D EDG LGHD after all. Not if you’re willing to carry that whim as far as you need to go. Now we turn it over to our newest tenants, the writers whose work is featured in WKHVH SDJHV 6SHQG D OLWWOH WLPH ZLWK WKHP ,WœOO EH ZRUWK \RXU ZKLOH Thanks for everything, and enjoy your stay. Alisha Karabinus

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Nesting .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6

Brooke Bailey

L`] Kogj\ KoYddgo]j Ogf\]jk O`Yl k l`] Hgafl .

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Amorak Huey

Conjoined .

Jen Marquardt

Still Life with Moving Parts & Europa . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Michael Simon

Lunatics/Lunar-tics Courtney Thomas Vance

Like Cycles of Water I Return to Sky.

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. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Thomas Michael McDade

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Andrew Payton

Prince and Sway .

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And Still the Evil .

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Karin Rosman

The Barn . &

Lunch and Love in the Cottage . Jessica Poli

Qgm <gf l F]]\ Dgn] .

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Myfanwy Collins

Space Cases Patrick Henry

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Sonnet Addressed To My Mother . Jessica Plante

The Elephant Graveyard . 9k`d]q OYc]Ăš]d\

How to Boil an Egg Deanna Larsen

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NESTING Brooke Bailey In some ways, she was the love of my life—so similar we wanted to fuck the same people, needed the same basic things for survival: jugs of cheap wine, bluegrass low on the stereo, a cause to busy our hands when they were without a man’s back or belly to stroke. We were absent-minded in the same ways, even, always leaving feta crumbs on the face of the goddess painted on our kitchen table or leaving our summer dresses in the dryer to wrinkle. We took one another for granted—we thought we could be independent together, whatever that meant. We forgot to be considerate. 6KH OHIW PH IRU D PDQ , ZRXOGQÂśW KHOS KHU KDXO WKH ER[HV WKDW EUXLVHG her fair arms, causing storm clouds to cover her constellations of Irish IUHFNOHV ,QVWHDG , VDW LQ P\ URRP DQG OLVWHQHG WR 7 6 (OLRW RQ WDSH “April is the cruellest month‌â€? sounded completely wrong when I was brooding LQ ODWH -XO\ EXW , NQHZ KRZ PXFK VKH KDWHG LW ,I VKH FDPH KRPH WR ÂżQG PH OLVWHQLQJ WR (OLRW VKH WHQGHG WR GR D 8 WXUQ EDFN RXW RI WKH PRXWK RI RXU DSDUWPHQW 6KH NQHZ ZKDW LW PHDQW ,W ZRXOG NHHS KHU RXW RI P\ EHGURRP and therefore keep her from asking of me the one thing I couldn’t give her. I would have given her anything else. Hers was the body I found excuses to curl into after watching docuPHQWDULHV ZRUVH WKDQ KRUURU PRYLHV Ă€LFNHU DFURVV WKH EOXUU\ VFUHHQ RI RXU television. When we went to dances at the Apple Barn and I had no partner, VKH ZRXOG EH P\ OHDG DQG ZDOW] PH DFURVV WKH GXVW\ ZRRGHQ Ă€RRU 2QFH summer got here and I could detach myself from my sullenness, my sobriety, and I blossomed like everything else, she would bed my surplus of lovHUV 7KHUH ZDV D IDFH , ZRXOG PDNH RYHU WKH Ă€LFNHU RI RXU FDQGOHV RYHU WKH steam still coming off of our food, and she would know which one I didn’t want. All of the men were desirable—that was never a problem. It was hard to be jealous when there were no wrong men in our house the same way there are nearly no wrong answers in literature. There was always something redeeming, something workable: the way they’d burrow into us, the way they’d sing Don McLean as they drifted off to sleep, sometimes the way they’d be gracious enough to disappear before we woke in the morning. We had a system and we were never alone. 6

I had no whiskers to scratch her neck in sleep and my body couldn’t FDXVH KHUV WR ÀRZHU $W WKH HQG RI WKH GD\ , ZRXOG KDYH GRQH KHU ELGGLQJ LI she had asked. In the morning, I cooked her beignets to round out her body the only way I knew how, catching the oil where it popped off the pan the way I could not catch the sparks that came off her hair when she stood under the porch light with one of those cloves that tasted like Christmas spilling scented smoke from her hands. I painted her Kokopellis and orchids. I hid fertility charms around the apartment. I had seen the way she eyed EDELHV LQ WKHLU VWUROOHUV ZKHQ ZH ZDONHG WR 6XQGD\ EUXQFK WKH ZD\ VKH H\HG maternity magazines at the organic grocery store where we’d load our carts with baguettes so long they could only have been made for ravenous lovers. Those, or girls like us—whatever that meant. My current lover is good with his hands. He makes banjos with wood from the forest that shelters us when we need to hide and explore one another in the fold of the mountain. He grows hops and makes ale for us to drink in his garden. I asked him to make me a bassinet one night after blowing cool air on him, chilling the sweat that covered his body after a particularly acrobatic bout of lovemaking. A gift for a friend, I said, before licking the rivulets off of him. He had perched himself up on his elbows to look at me and make sure my belly wasn’t rounded. Leaning in to stroke it and feeling no psychic kick, he smiled and he nodded. At night when I get home from work each night, I prepare the extra bedroom. The bassinet, still smelling of oak, sits in the corner. Pressed ÀRZHUV KDQJ IURP WKH FHLOLQJ LQ WKH SODFH RI D PRELOH :KHQ KH ¿QGV RXW WKDW VKH LV FDUU\LQJ , NQRZ WKDW KH ZLOO OHDYH KHU When she comes back with child, there won’t be anything she could need that I can’t give to her.

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L@= KOGJ< KO9DDGO=J OGF<=JK O@9L K L@= HGAFL Amorak Huey A memory: July night, pickup parked at lip of abandoned quarry, warm beer in cans & a girl you just might love. You tell her all the same stories about the old country, high fog & coldstone castles, craggy coasts & dangerous shards of history. These are not your stories—you were born in a Kentucky coal camp where your father sucked black dust until it killed him & your mother drank herself into the dirt shortly after— EXW \RXU JUDQGIDWKHU FDPH IURP 6FRWODQG you always did have more questions than ambitions. (YHU\WKLQJ LPSRUWDQW LQ \RXU OLIH happened two decades ago, an ocean away. That girl wasn’t wired for life on the road so it made sense ZKHQ VKH OHIW IRU D EXLOGHU ZKR UHWUR¿W KRPHV WR VXUYLYH HDUWKTXDNHV 6RPH VWUXFWXUHV were never meant to stay put. Another highway groans by beneath your tires, rumble strips barking if you slide outside the lines. Waiting somewhere in the breathless dark: bright lights, crowd, applause, that mercury-silver compensation, night after night tasting the sharpest edge & spitting it out.

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CONJOINED Jen Marquardt

*ZHQ DQG +DUROG KDG EHHQ ERUQ DWWDFKHG DW WKH EDFN RI WKH KHDG (YHU\WKLQJ HOVH ZDV QRUPDO HYHU\RQH KDG DOO WKHLU ÂżQJHUV DQG WRHV $W WKDW WLPH WKH surgery to separate them was not very advanced, too much blood loss, and WKH GRFWRU UHFRPPHQGHG OHDYLQJ WKHP DV WKH\ ZHUH 7KHLU PRWKHU (PLO\ DJUHHG 7KHLU IDWKHU ZDV RQH RI WZR PHQ (PLO\ PHW RQ D VLQJOHV FUXLVH Neither of them knew about the twins or got a vote about the surgery. 6R (PLO\ KDG D FDU VHDW PDGH IRU WKHP ZLWK DQ DGMXVWDEOH EDFN DQG they sat on the bench seat, Gwen facing one window, Harold facing the other. They grew up like that, back-to-back. They sat back-to-back in the middle of the sofa, a set of feet on each armrest, which had to be reupholstered twice. If one of them moved the wrong way, it stretched the skin that connected them and they would both experience some pain. They learned to hold their heads very straight and very still. They wore a lot of button-up shirts. When they ZDONHG +DUROG ZDONHG IRUZDUG DQG *ZHQ ZDONHG EDFNZDUG 6RPHWLPHV VKH FKDWWHG ZLWK ZKRPHYHU ZDV EHKLQG KHU 6KH JRW YHU\ JRRG DW H[SODLQLQJ their condition, learning later that this candidness was disarming to people who might otherwise gawk or be unkind. Gwen became the charming one and Harold was the one who knew where they were going. 6RPH DGYDQFHV ZHUH PDGH LQ WKH VHSDUDWLRQ VXUJHU\ VKRUWO\ EHIRUH WKH WZLQV WXUQHG HLJKW DQG ZKHQ (PLO\ EURXJKW LW XS WKH\ ERWK FULHG “Why?â€? said Gwen. “It would be so weird,â€? said Harold. (PLO\ ZRUULHG WKDW VKH ZDV OHWWLQJ WKHP JURZ XS WRR VWUDQJHO\ WKDW maybe they would be happier if Gwen could have sleepovers with other girls and Harold could play sports or whatever it was that boys did. “What happens when you start dating?â€? she asked. “What even happens when you XVH WKH EDWKURRP"´ 2I FRXUVH (PLO\ KDG NQRZQ KRZ WKH\ QHJRWLDWHG WKH bathroom when they were smaller, but things had to be different now. “We have a system,â€? Gwen said. “We have different boundaries than other people. It’s not a bad thing.â€?

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:KHQ WKH\ WXUQHG WKLUWHHQ (PLO\ SXVKHG WKH LVVXH D OLWWOH KDUGHU “You’re going to have urges,â€? is the way she phrased it. This is when the twins explained that they had had urges for a while now. “We’re just very aware that somebody always knows,â€? Harold said. “It’s a little like being Catholic, I think.â€? “I think it’s made us very aware,â€? Gwen said. They made a show of nodding, Harold’s face tilting up while Gwen’s tilted down, then they switched. Like a seesaw. Âł<RXÂśUH WKLUWHHQ ´ (PLO\ VDLG Âł<RXÂśUH QRW VXSSRVHG WR EH DZDUH ´ %XW they went on nodding, grinning now. The issue of the surgery came up again when they turned eighteen and JRW DFFHSWHG WR GLIIHUHQW FROOHJHV (PLO\ PDGH YHJHWDULDQ ODVDJQD ZLWK JDUOLF bread and, during dinner, pointed out that Harold could not go to the Art 6FKRRO RI &KLFDJR ZKLOH *ZHQ ZHQW WR WKH 8QLYHUVLW\ RI :DVKLQJWRQ XQOHVV some changes were made. “Who needs college?â€? Harold said. “We could become circus freaks. 2U VWDUW D EDQG *ZHQGRO\Q KDV EHHQ ZDQWLQJ WR OHDUQ JXLWDU ´ Âł, WKLQN ZH VKRXOG FRQVLGHU WKH VXUJHU\ ´ *ZHQ VDLG 6KH IHOW +DUROG VWLIIHQ ZKHQ VKH VDLG LW *ZHQ WRRN WKH ORZHU KDOI RI (PLO\ÂśV JDUOLF EUHDG from her plate and ripped off the crust. Harold took a breath. “We could be famous,â€? he said. “We’d be huge in Japan.â€? *ZHQ FRXOG IHHO KLV ULE FDJH PRYH 6RPHWLPHV VKH FRXOG IHHO KLV KHDUW but not now. Gwen cut her lasagna into pieces without eating it. Her fork made polite tinks against her plate. “I have to brush my teeth,â€? Harold said. It was a thing he did when he was nervous. They both had good teeth. Gwen and Harold stood up and walked down the hall toward the EDWKURRP *ZHQ ZDONLQJ EDFNZDUGV VKUXJJHG KHU VKRXOGHUV DW (PLO\ ZKR gave her a little nod. Then she looked back at the table. Gwen thought she saw her mother touch the back of her own head and wince. They closed the bathroom door and Gwen listened to Harold brushing KLV WHHWK 6KH EHQW EDFNZDUG VR KH FRXOG VSLW LQWR WKH VLQN $Q RUQDWH JROG hand mirror was hanging from a nail. Gwen had bought it at a garage sale for WKUHH GROODUV WKRXJK +DUROG KDG SURWHVWHG WKDW LW ZDV WDFN\ 6KH WRRN LW DQG held it up so that she could see Harold’s face in the wall mirror. 10

“Hi,â€? he said, looking at her. “Hi yourself,â€? she said. “How are you?â€? +DUROG VKRRN KLV KHDG VOLJKWO\ DQG *ZHQÂśV KHDG PRYHG WRR 6KH stiffened her neck and they each held still. “But I like you,â€? said Harold. They WXUQHG VLGHZD\V DQG XVHG WKH PLUURU WR ORRN DW WKHLU SURÂżOH 7KHLU KDLU ZDV the same color blonde and Gwen kept hers longer in the front—just below her jaw—but shorter in the back, the same length as Harold’s. It looked like they shared one giant head. Gwen hooked her elbows with his and they pulled their backs together. It was the way that they hugged. “I like you, too,â€? Gwen said. “But aren’t you tired of being a freak?â€? “We’re not,â€? said Harold. “I don’t think we’re freaks.â€? 7KH\ KDG WKH VXUJHU\ DQ\ZD\ 7KHUH ZDV QR JRRG UHDVRQ QRW WR (YHQ +DUROG ÂżQDOO\ DGPLWWHG WKDW When they were laid back-to-back on the operating table, the anesthesiologist put them to sleep one at a time. Gwen listened to Harold’s EUHDWKLQJ FKDQJH 6KH IHOW KLV EDFN VOXPS DJDLQVW KHUV DQG VKH VWDUWHG WR cry. “Nothing to worry about,â€? the doctor said, holding the breathing apparatus over her mouth. “Good. Breathe. Good.â€? They woke up in separate beds, facing each other. “Harold, that’s \RXU IDFH ´ *ZHQ VDLG 6KH ZRQGHUHG KRZ VKH FRXOG EH VHHLQJ KLV IDFH DQG WKHQ VKH UHPHPEHUHG DQG WRXFKHG WKH EDQGDJH DW WKH EDFN RI KHU KHDG 6KH would start most mornings like this, at least for a while, reminding herself of what had happened. “My head hurts,â€? said Harold. He shut his eyes. Gwen’s head hurt too, but she was able to get up and use the bathroom. :DONLQJ IHOW VWUDQJH QRZ 6KH KDG WR OHDQ DJDLQVW ZDOOV DQG GRRU IUDPHV When she came back, she sat on the edge of Harold’s bed. The stand EHWZHHQ WKHLU EHGV KHOG FDUGV DQG EDOORRQV 2QH RI WKH FDUGV ZDV IURP Gwen’s friends. They had written something about being able to have a real girls’ night. The word “realâ€? was underlined. Harold had once asked her ZKDW KDSSHQHG DW JLUOVÂś QLJKWV 3LOORZ ÂżJKWV" /HVELDQ PDNH RXWV" Âł+HOO LI , know,â€? she had said. 11

Gwen picked up a heart-shaped box full of chocolate. A Get Well card was taped over the shiny “I love youâ€? on the lid. “Was this a mistake?â€? she asked. “I feel awful. It must be a mistake.â€? “I think we’re both just going to feel awful for a while,â€? said Harold. 6KH OD\ GRZQ QH[W WR KLP DQG WKH\ ORRNHG DW HDFK RWKHUÂśV IDFH IRU D long time. “You have a mole,â€? said Harold. He touched a spot under her chin. He had never been able to see this part of her face before. They didn’t know what to say then and turned onto their sides, easing their backs together. After the surgery, Gwen and Harold were in physical therapy for a long time. They would do neck exercises and relearn how to walk. Gwen would be in physical therapy longer than Harold, strengthening her quadriceps and learning how to move forward. “Like a normal person,â€? Harold teased. At home, Gwen practiced walking and Harold walked backwards in front of her. “You’re going so slow,â€? he said. “Can’t you speed up?â€? Âł6XUH ´ *ZHQ WROG KLP Âł%XW , GRQÂśW OLNH WKLQJV FRPLQJ DW PH VR quickly.â€? +DUROG VWDUWHG VFKRRO ÂżUVW *ZHQ DQG (PLO\ GURYH KLP WR &KLFDJR DQG PRYHG KLP LQWR KLV GRUP +LV KDLU ZDV ÂżOOLQJ LQ RYHU WKH SODFH ZKHUH WKH\ KDG EHHQ VWXFN WRJHWKHU 7KH VNXOO ZDV D OLWWOH Ă€DWWHU WKDQ LW VKRXOG KDYH been, but the doctor said that Harold had a good chin, that it balanced out KLV SURÂżOH Before they left Harold in his new place, they went out for pizza. This is Harold in Chicago, Gwen thought as they walked around the city, looking LQWR EDUV DQG VKRSV 6KH WULHG WR Âż[ KLP WR WKLV EDFNGURS RI WDOO EXLOGLQJV QH[W WR WKH ULYHU 6KH ZDONHG EDFNZDUGV LQ IURQW RI KLP :DONLQJ EDFNZDUGV ZDV PRUH GLIÂżFXOW QRZ Âł$UH \RX JRLQJ WR ZHDU WLHV"´ VKH DVNHG +DUROG hadn’t worn many ties before; it took too much time to thread between their necks. “Maybe,â€? said Harold. He put his hands on Gwen’s shoulders to steer her around a group of people while he thought about this. He seemed pleased with the idea. “I’m going to grow my hair long,â€? Gwen said. 7KDW HYHQLQJ *ZHQ DQG (PLO\ GURYH KRPH IURP &KLFDJR Âł*RRGE\H ´ 12

+DUROG VDLG WR (PLO\ KXJJLQJ KHU Âł*RRGE\H ´ KH VDLG WR *ZHQ +H KHOG onto her a little longer. It was strange to feel his arms around her like that with their chests together. They had always hooked elbows before. Hugging felt insincere. 2Q WKH ZD\ KRPH (PLO\ WULHG WR WDON WR KHU 7KH\ KDG QHYHU EHHQ WRJHWKHU ZLWKRXW +DUROG Âł6R ZKDW LV LW OLNH ORVLQJ D KXQGUHG DQG VL[W\ SRXQGV"´ (PLO\ VDLG “It’s weird,â€? Gwen said. “My head hurts all the time.â€? Âł/LNH D KHDGDFKH"´ (PLO\ DVNHG Âł1R ´ *ZHQ VDLG 6KH WRXFKHG WKH EDFN RI KHU KHDG Âł/LNH +DUROG LV moving the wrong way.â€? Âł%XW KH LVQÂśW WKHUH ´ (PLO\ VDLG 6KH JODQFHG DW *ZHQ VLWWLQJ XS VWUDLJKW LQ WKH SDVVHQJHU VHDW ZLQFLQJ DW WKH UHĂ€HFWLYH SRVWV DV WKH\ SDVVHG them. “This is what being lonely is, isn’t it?â€? Gwen said. Âł7KDWÂśV UXGH ´ VDLG (PLO\ Âł,ÂśP ULJKW KHUH ´ Âł<RX NQRZ ZKDW , PHDQ ´ *ZHQ VDLG DQG (PLO\ VDLG VKH ZDVQÂśW VXUH that she did. $ ZHHN ODWHU *ZHQ PRYHG LQWR KHU RZQ GRUP LQ 6HDWWOH +HU URRPPDWH Ani talked about her boyfriend and while Gwen didn’t really care about the boyfriend, she had never been talked to about things like that before. When Ani learned Gwen’s story, she dragged her out to a club and Gwen danced ZLWK HYHU\ERG\ $QRWKHU QLJKW $QL KDG D VPDOO YLHZLQJ SDUW\ RI D ÂżOP DERXW FRQMRLQHG WZLQV 7KH ÂżOP KDG &KHU LQ LW DQG D EXQFK RI SHRSOH FURZGHG LQWR their dorm room and sat on their beds. Afterwards, Gwen answered their questions and showed them her scar. “What was it like to be separated?â€? one girl asked. “It’s awful,â€? Gwen said. “Why did you do it then?â€? someone else asked. Gwen shook her head. “I guess I thought it would be easier this way.â€? “Is it?â€? “No.â€? After that, the girls told her what it was like not to be attached to anyone, what it was like to kiss boys at thirteen, to do other things. They 13

took her to a party where she kissed a boy with a metal stud in his tongue. 6KH EHFDPH PLOGO\ IDPRXV RQ FDPSXV “You wouldn’t believe what these people do,â€? she told Harold when he phoned. Âł<HV ´ +DUROG VDLG Âł+HUH WRR ´ 6R KH ZDV H[SHULHQFLQJ WKH ZRUOG DV well. Gwen wondered if he’d experienced more than she had. “My head hurts like crazy,â€? she said. “It was a terrible idea. I’m so sorry, Harold.â€? “It’s okay,â€? said Harold. “You’re okay.â€? “Doesn’t your head hurt?â€? Gwen asked. “Not really,â€? he said. “Not anymore.â€? 6KH WRRN XS UXQQLQJ 6KH DQG +DUROG KDG QHYHU EHHQ DEOH WR UXQ They had been chased by a dog once and the two of them scrambled sideways before Harold hooked their elbows together and lifted her up, her feet kicking in the air. Now Gwen made long loops up and down the hills RI 6HDWWOH 6KH JRW ORVW DQG UDQ KHU ZD\ RXW EHJDQ WR NQRZ WKH SODFH 6KH learned where the locals drank their coffee and that the rain came down not LQ WKH KHDY\ GURSV VKH ZDV XVHG WR EXW LQVWHDG LQ D ÂżQH SHUYDVLYH PLVW 6KH memorized bus routes and the schedule of the Monorail, learned the history RI WKH Âś :RUOGÂśV )DLU 6KH IDLOHG WR DSSUHFLDWH WKH DUFKLWHFWXUH RI WKH 6SDFH 1HHGOH RU WKH 6FLHQFH &HQWHU ZKLFK KHU IULHQGV IRXQG D VLJQ RI JRRG WDVWH $ ER\ QDPHG 6HEDVWLDQ WRRN KHU WKHUH RQ D GDWH RQFH 7KH\ URGH WKH elevator quietly and he took pictures of her peering out over the city, her KDLU²MXVW SDVW KHU HDUV QRZ²Ă€\LQJ DOO RYHU WKH SODFH “My dad proposed to my mom in the rotating restaurant here,â€? he said. “It’s really expensive.â€? Gwen pictured a couple moving around in a slow circle, taking in the whole city from a single point. Âł,WÂśV NLQG RI D VWUDQJH VWUXFWXUH ´ *ZHQ VDLG 6KH WKRXJKW DERXW WKLV on the elevator ride down, willfully attaching to someone, and was sick into a plastic bag containing a mug she had bought in the gift shop. Âł,ÂśP QRW JRLQJ WR SURSRVH WR \RX ´ 6HEDVWLDQ VDLG ,W ZDV MXVW RFFXUULQJ to him to pull back her hair. He pushed some of it out of her face. “I know,â€? she said. Âł&DQ , VHH LW"´ 6HEDVWLDQ DVNHG Âł7KH VFDU"´ “Why didn’t you?â€? Harold asked over the phone that night. “It seemed obscene,â€? Gwen said. 14

“Why did you throw up?â€? “I got vertigo.â€? Harold said that she had never had vertigo before and Gwen told him to be quiet. “You don’t have anything like it there. You can’t understand.â€? “We had a World’s Fair,â€? he said, and talked about the Ferris Wheel. He had ridden the one on Navy Pier with friends who had grown up in &KLFDJR 7KH\ KDG HDWHQ IXQQHO FDNHV DQG VOLSSHG D Ă€DVN RQWR WKH ULGH Âł,ÂśOO take you when you come,â€? he said. When she did visit, Harold took her on the architecture boat tour up and down the Chicago River. It was fall and the leaves were almost done FKDQJLQJ :KHQ WKH GRFHQW PHQWLRQHG WKH 0RQWDXN %XLOGLQJ ZDV WKH ÂżUVW skyscraper, Harold leaned in and whispered, “I kissed a girl there.â€? Gwen punched him in the arm and tried to grin. Afterwards, they met some of his friends for sushi. The friends were loud and Gwen was surprised that some of them were girls. None of her friends were boys. Harold’s friends were pretty girls who laughed a lot. 2QH RI WKHP²ZDV KHU QDPH 6DUD"²DVNHG *ZHQ D ORW RI TXHVWLRQV 6DUD was probably the one who had kissed Harold by the Montauk Building. But maybe not. Maybe it was all of them. They didn’t ride the Ferris Wheel. “Next time,â€? said Harold when he dropped her off at the airport. He pulled her bags out of the trunk while they PDGH DUUDQJHPHQWV IRU +DUROG WR YLVLW KHU LQ 6HDWWOH WR VHH MXVW KRZ DZIXO WKH 6SDFH 1HHGOH UHDOO\ ZDV Âł2ND\ ´ *ZHQ VDLG Âł*LYH PH D KXJ ´ 6KH WXUQHG DURXQG DQG ZDLWHG to feel Harold’s back against hers, to hook their elbows together, but he spun her around again. They faced each other. “We can hug like this now,â€? he said, arms around each other. “Like normal people,â€? Gwen said, her face in his neck. “Yeah,â€? Harold said. “Don’t cry. Being normal isn’t so bad.â€? “It hurts,â€? Gwen said. “It really hurts. Let’s just stand like we used to for a minute, okay? Just for a minute.â€? 6KH IHOW +DUROGÂśV DUPV WLJKWHQ DURXQG KHU Âł, GRQÂśW WKLQN WKDWÂśV D JRRG idea,â€? he said. 6WDQGLQJ LQ OLQH IRU WKH VHFXULW\ FKHFNSRLQW *ZHQ WRRN WKUHH H[WUD aspirin. 15

2Q WKH SODQH WKHUH ZHUH ORWV RI EDELHV Âł,WÂśV JRLQJ WR EH D VKULHN IHVW ´ said the man in the seat next to hers. He had an eye patch and wore the FDPRXĂ€DJH FORWKLQJ WKDW VROGLHUV ZHDU *ZHQ JXHVVHG KH ZDV FRPLQJ KRPH from the Army. “Great,â€? Gwen said. “A shriek-fest.â€? The aspirin was kicking in, HYHU\WKLQJ KDSSHQLQJ WKURXJK D QLFH IRJ 6KH EXFNOHG KHU VHDW EHOW DQG UXEEHG DQWLELRWLF ORWLRQ LQWR KHU SDOPV 3ODQHV DOZD\V IHOW GLUW\ WR KHU 6KH folded her hands in her lap and looked at all the well-behaved heads nestled into their seat backs. No one wore hats anymore. Neither Gwen nor the man next to her spoke again until they had WDNHQ RII FORXGV Ă€LFNLQJ E\ WKH ZLQGRZV DQG D Ă€LJKW DWWHQGDQW FDPH E\ with juice and soda. The man asked for cranberry juice and when he reached IRU WKH FXS *ZHQ VDZ WKDW KH KDG RQO\ RQH DUP 6KH QRWLFHG SDUW RI KLV OHJ was missing too, cut off just below the knee. “Fucking land mine,â€? he said to her. Was he smiling? He must have EHHQ LQ KLV WKLUWLHV DQG *ZHQ OLNHG WKDW KH GLGQÂśW ÂżOWHU KLPVHOI IRU KHU “I’m sorry,â€? she said. Âł(K ´ WKH PDQ VKUXJJHG Âł7KH\ JDYH PH D PHGDO DQG PRQH\ IRU LW ,ÂśOO be alright.â€? The man explained that the wounds used to hurt. The hand that wasn’t there would itch or the missing calf muscle would cramp up. “They call it phantom limb pain,â€? he said. He told her about all the medication WKH\ KDG SXW KLP RQ WR Âż[ WKH SKDQWRP OLPE SDLQ DQG KRZ QRQH RI WKLV KDG worked until he met Dr. Ramachandran, who had set up a mirror. “He held it right down my center,â€? the soldier said. He held his hand up to his nose, OLNH RQH RI WKH 6WRRJHV ZDUGLQJ RII D SRNH LQ WKH H\HV Âł6R LQ WKH UHĂ€HFWLRQ P\ good hand looks like my missing hand, my good leg looks like my missing leg. And I can move them around. I can stretch or scratch or whatever I need.â€? “And that works?â€? Gwen asked. The soldier shrugged. “It helps.â€? Gwen waited until the seatbelt sign was off, then went to the bathroom. 6KH EHQW EDFNZDUGV RYHU WKH VLQN VR WKDW WKH EDFN RI KHU KHDG WRXFKHG WKH mirror. Then she opened her make-up compact up to see what this looked OLNH WZR *ZHQV EDFN WR EDFN 6KH ZDWFKHG KHUVHOI WXUQ KHU KHDG WKLV ZD\ and that way, up and down. Then she straightened out, her jaw level, the 16

*ZHQ LQ WKH PLUURU ZDV OHYHO 6KH VWD\HG OLNH WKDW IRU D ZKLOH KROGLQJ YHU\ still, feeling the coolness of the mirror against the back of her head. Finally, when another passenger tapped on the door, Gwen went back to her seat. “Hello, Baby,â€? the soldier said when she sat down, a thing WKDW VKRFNHG KHU XQWLO VKH VDZ WKDW KH ZDV GLUHFWLQJ KLV ZRUGV WR WKH Ă€RRU in front of him. Pretty soon, she saw a baby appear from beneath the seat, SXOOLQJ LWVHOI IRUZDUG ZLWK LWV WLQ\ ÂżQJHUV ,W KDG VRPHKRZ PDGH LWV ZD\ around the metal apparatus of the chair and Gwen worried he—it looked OLNH D KH²PLJKW KLW KLV KHDG 6KH ZDQWHG WR FKHHU ZKHQ KH FUDZOHG RXW IURP under the seat and began to stand up, holding onto the soldier’s good leg for support. Âł2K ´ VDLG WKH ZRPDQ LQ IURQW RI WKHP Âł$LGDQ ´ 6KH GLGQÂśW VHHP ZRUULHG $LGDQ SUREDEO\ ZHQW PLVVLQJ DOO WKH WLPH Âł6RUU\ ´ VKH VDLG WR WKH VROGLHU ZKR VDLG HYHU\WKLQJ ZDV ÂżQH ÂżQH +H OHDQHG GRZQ DQG VFRRSHG up Aidan, standing up and handing him back to his mother like it was no trouble at all.

17

STILL LIFE WITH MOVING PARTS Michael Simon

What are they eating in the afterlife? Pine shadows and the spider gaze of daylilies, ZKLWH ÂżUH %RQQDUGÂśV Ă€HHFH RI JUDSHV LQ D ERZO his yellow auras for peaches—they tell me , ZRQÂśW KDYH FKLOGUHQ 0\ IDWKHU ÂżOOHG KLV YLROLQ with water from the sink and played into morning. Fear keeps me moving like a tree in the mirror. Autumn strips me, down WR WKH KHDUWEHDW WKH EDUN 2QH QLJKW KH ORFNHG PH in the bathroom; one night, crying and knocking, KH VHW PH IUHH 2U LV LW %DFRQÂśV 3RSH VKRXWLQJ in my ear? Mouth as landscape. Tongue an underground VWUHDP 6W\[ RU /HWKH²WR FU\ LV WR OHW ODQJXDJH go for a while. Pain, you belong WR P\ PRWKHU WR WKLV ODYHQGHU VWLFN Ă€RDWLQJ in the bath, where the prune oval of a newborn’s head goes under, comes up. How long ZLOO WKH GHDG ZHDU RXU VNLQV" 6WDUYHG RI FRORU and salt, a beard’s scruff, a broom’s. They peer through your eyes, their grievances rise in your throat, choppy and off-key, sewer noise, song scattered in the shower. Who was it whistled in his sleep—Rimbaud? The underworld’s high caverns are stacked with Rembrandts, VelĂĄsquez, whatever they could smuggle through the needle’s eye. And what my father’s mind KHOG RQWR OLNH D ÂżVW ZKHQ ZH ULQVHG KLV IDFH and straightened his arms through the arms of his suit.

18

EUROPA You must have been a bull in that other life, butting the ground with a wet brow tumbling from your mother. You toss your head when I look over my shoulder, you nibble my skin like a sculptor nicking ice from his swan. The moon breaks into shards, into sparrow hawks ÀLWWLQJ RYHU WUHHV DQG P\ KHDUWEHDW VOLSV and steadies. I miss my father’s hall, but I know these things take time, take sweat and labor. Knossos begins in the womb; its walls are soft. No arrows scar them, no chargers kick up dust. Alleys curl inward to a central fountain not yet tiled or pulsing with jets. Those who live there wear blue, tie vines around their eyes, and grope among doorways. Wisteria blooms over back garden porticos. They follow its scent; they develop toes. These are my children and I am their queen and my long hair drags in the surf. I cling to your neck as you plow the waves, and drop an ivory comb for ballast. What’s divine? Pasting mortar to brick, lathing a juniper throne. (YHU\ FUDFN LQ WKH EXOOœV VNXOO is a prayer I dust ZLWK P\ ¿QH KDLUHG EUXVK

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LUNATIC/LUNAR-TICS Courtney Thomas Vance 1. The protagonist of this narrative is psychotic. Check it: This woman—we’ll call her ‘Me’ and we’ll call her ‘Psycho’—sits on KHU WZLQ VL]HG EHG QH[W WR D PDQ :HÂśOO FDOO WKLV PDQ ÂľWKH 2QH :KR 5HGHHPV WKH 8QLYHUVH RI $OO LWV 8JOLQHVV DQG ,QMXVWLFH Âś :HÂśOO FDOO KLP Âľ-RKQ Doe.’ ‘Me’ is tapping away frantically at the keys of her laptop, pressing buttons in order to make letters transform into words, and then words transform into sentences, then sentences into paragraphs, into pages, chapters—et cetera, et cetera—until she has written the Great American Novel. The curtains on the window hang half-open, a vestige from when it was light outside and the protagonist wanted to invite sunshine into her life. Now that it’s night, perhaps there is a full moon, as fat and rotund DV D SUHJQDQW EHOO\ DQG LWV IURVW ZKLWH JORZ LOOXPLQDWHV WKH ÂżJXUH RI WKH protagonist through the glass pane. The perfect circle, achingly bright like an angry blister, is an allusion to that fabled monster—half wolf and half PDQ $ IRUHVKDGRZLQJ RI YLROHQFH 2U PD\EH WKH PRRQ LV MXVW D FUHVFHQW Âľ3V\FKRÂś GRHV QRW PDNH D SRLQW RI NHHSLQJ WUDFN RI OXQDU DFWLYLW\ 6KH LV QRW a stargazer. While she writes her masterpiece, John Doe stands up. He stretches. 6PLOLQJ KH ORRNV RQ ORYLQJO\ DW WKH JLUO KH KDV FRPH WR UHJDUG DV KLV VLJQLÂżFDQW RWKHU 7KH\ VKDUH D URRP IXOO\ DZDUH RI WKH FRQV RI FRKDELWDWLRQ at their age; but even having been together three years now, they’re always making bad decisions on the other’s account. They’re wildly devoted to their togetherness, and that wildness infects their surroundings. 6HH WKHLU OLYLQJ VSDFH LV FKDRV %R[HUV PLQJOH ZLWK EUDV PLQJOH ZLWK books on Marxism mingle with combat boots mingle with half-consumed ERWWOHV RI ERXUERQ WRS VKHOI GLVWLOOHG LQ VPDOO EDWFKHV 5RZDQÂśV &UHHN :KLVWOHSLJ 'HDWKÂśV 'RRU ,WÂśV HQWURS\ DW LWV ÂżQHVW DQG WKH ZRPDQ 0H RIWHQ UHĂ€HFWV WKDW WKH WHQGHQF\ IRU URRPV WR JHW PHVV\ DQG GLVVROYH LQWR 20

disorder is not unlike the tendency for her brain to slip quietly and unasVXPLQJO\ LQWR PDGQHVV 6KHÂśV FUD]\ OLNH WKDW DQG KHU PLQG LVQÂśW ULJKW “I’m heading to the kitchen for a snack. May I get something for you?â€? WKH 2QH :KR 5HGHHPV WKH 8QLYHUVH VD\V 2U VRPHWKLQJ OLNH WKDW 7KRVH DUH likely not his exact words, because memory is slippery, tricky—a cunning fox. And Psycho’s memory, perhaps, is even more in question than normal because of her diseased mind. %XW NQRZ WKLV 6KH KROGV RQWR WKLQJV KROGV RQWR WKHP WLJKWO\ :KDW she lacks in sanity she makes up for in her voracious collection of life’s details, in her keen eye, in a way of observing things from the position of an outsider. 6R ZKHQ VKH UHPHPEHUV WKDW WKH PDQ VD\V Âł,ÂśP KHDGLQJ WR WKH NLWFKen for a snack. May I get something for you?â€?—rest assured that those words are very close to what he actually says. Âł1R WKDQNV ´ 0H VD\V 6KHÂśV ULGLQJ RXW KHU FUHDWLYH LQVSLUDWLRQ OLNH D dope high, barely paying attention to her boyfriend. And if the scene were to end here, it would be a dull thing, indeed. :KHUH LV WKH FRQĂ€LFW" 7KHUH LV QRQH 3V\FKR LV KDSS\ WR ZULWH DQG KHU ER\friend John Doe is happy to go to the kitchen to get a snack. But something happens. Chemicals in the woman’s brain that doctors GRQÂśW XQGHUVWDQG PRXQW D FUXHO DQG XQH[SHFWHG DWWDFN 6DYDJHV +HDUWOHVV substances. They move wickedly and wildly through nerve tunnels, crossing barriers that they shouldn’t. While her boyfriend is about to leave for the kitchen, she throws something at him—maybe a pillow. John Doe assumes that this is in jest. He tosses it back gently, a hesitant smile on his face. But the woman is having QRQH RI LW 6KH VWDQGV XS IURP WKH EHG WRVVHV KHU FRPSXWHU WR WKH VLGH RQ the mattress, and takes a pillow and whacks it across the man’s head over DQG RYHU DQG RYHU Âł, KDWH \RX , KDWH \RX , KDWH \RX ´ 6KH UHSHDWV WKLV D cruel loop, a scratched, screeching record that people would sooner see broken completely than continue listening to. “Baby, baby, what’s going on?â€? the Redeeming Boy asks. “What’s wrong?â€? But this is the girl’s universe now: she is the most disgusting, frightHQLQJ WKLQJ DOLYH 6KH NQRZV WKLV IRU D IDFW 6KH LV D VXFFXEXV $Q LPSRV21

tor on earth, an interloper among humans. A profound sense of terror overwhelms her as she comes to understand that she has a secret power, but that secret power is evil. Her secret power is to destroy and eviscerate. All that she comprehends is this profound agitation, a pressure in the chest, a mis-wiring LQ WKH EUDLQ WKDW WHOOV KHU WUXO\ RXW RI QRZKHUH WKDW VKH LV D IUHDN 8QGHU KHU skin lurks a demon. This, for her, is real. Not a metaphor. “You’re what’s wrong,â€? the woman says. And she can’t be still. It’s like D WLF OLNH VRPH 2&' NLG ZKR FDQÂśW VWRS ZDVKLQJ KLV KDQGV HYHQ WKRXJK WKH\ÂśUH EXUQLQJ DQG UHG DQG UDZ 6KH KDV WR PRYH +DV WR UXQ 6KH FDQÂśW VOHHS 6KHÂśV got to lash out because it’s like her body is a whip and it’s aching to crack the Ă€HVK RI WKH HDUWK Âł6WRS LW ´ -RKQ 'RH VKRXWV DQG KHÂśV WU\LQJ WR SXVK KHU RII RI KLP WU\ing to prevent her assault. But she cannot hear him. 2. A pamphlet for your consideration: What is Bipolar? Disorder of the brain. 8QWLG\ FHOOV DQG FKHPLFDOV DQG ZLUHV Furniture arranged all wrong. A poorly-directed Christmas Pageant. Mashed up, mixed up—like when the DJ is trying something new, spitting bomb and funky beats, but it just doesn’t work, and the crowd isn’t feeling it at all, and you just want to hear the song unedited, unadulterated, pure like how it sounds on XM Radio. Bipolar is highs and lows, but not like good days and bad days—more like psychotic days and suicidal days, like King of the World days and I’m-apiece-of-shit-who-doesn’t-deserve-to-live days. Highs like engaging in illegal behavior and getting arrested, spending a night in jail, and doing it all over again the next day. Highs like several shots of your favorite whiskey just so you can calm down enough to sleep. Highs like fucking bareback, letting him pull out just barely in time. Highs like being a giddy school girl, kissing an ROGHU ZRPDQ IRU WKH ÂżUVW WLPH NQRZLQJ \RXÂśUH XQVWRSSDEOH WKDW VKHÂśOO ORYH you forever, that nothing can go wrong.

22

Lows like trolling suicide boards looking for the perfect method. Lows like not eating, only drinking, sleeping, not going to class, not doing work—for days at a time because there’s just not enough spirit in you to manage getting out of bed. Bipolar is yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, all you can do is scream as loud as you can, scratch at the fabric of the world, sink into your hole, re-emerge powerful and larger than life until everyone is afraid, until everyone is sorry, until the ones you love are gone. Symptoms of Bipolar “Intense emotional states.â€? Too much feeling. Too many cold, heartless bitches and asshole men who want nothing to do with you. Too many tragedies. Too many bruises. Too many days when you’re so alone, a frontiersman breaking new ground, but all you want is to go back to the Known World, but they’ll never let you back because you’ve pissed them off too much. 2YHUH[FLWHG 2YHUMR\HG 0D\DÂśV D OLDU DQG D FKHDW DQG D ELWFK DQG \RX know she doesn’t love you, but it feels so good in her arms, and you guys are like two wild things, and no-fucking-body can stop you. Happiness is telling your mother to fuck off at the eighteenth birthday party she just threw you. <RXÂśUH %RVV <RXÂśUH *RG <RXÂśUH (SLF And mad, mad, mad as a fucking hatter. Mad, mad, mad as your grandmother who used to lash out with the belt for seemingly no reason at DOO *RG \RX PLVV KHU VR PXFK 6DGQHVV OLNH QR RWKHU <RX GRQÂśW GHVHUYH WR EH KHUH \RX NQRZ <RXÂśUH ruining it for all the Good People, of which you are not. Talking too fast. 2QH LGHD DQG WKHQ DQRWKHU 7KHQ DQRWKHU 7KHQ DQRWKHU Coked up on who knows what? Life? That doesn’t quite sound right. &DQÂśW VOHHS 1HYHU VOHHS 2QO\ DIWHU WKUHH VKRWV RI $PHULFDQ 5\H 3. Âł<RX VKRXOG OHDYH PH ´ WKH ZRPDQ VD\V DIWHU WKH UDJLQJ LV ÂżQDOO\ RYHU 6KHÂśV EDOOHG XS LQ WKH EHG VKDNLQJ FU\LQJ VZHDWLQJ²GRLQJ DOO WKRVH things that symbolize a lack of togetherness. Her body has only just barely calmed down. “Just leave me. Please, please, please. I’m a mess, a bitch. I don’t deserve you.â€? 23

$QG DOO KH VD\V LV Âł<RXÂśUH EHDXWLIXO , ORYH \RX ´ $QG KH KROGV 3V\FKR 6KH tries to shake him off, but his hands around her are too tight. 4. The origin of the woman’s disease is not known, but the folks in charge believe that bipolar affective disorder runs in families. It has a genetic basis. 3V\FKR DJUHHV 6KH NQRZV WKDW WKH LOOQHVV OLYHV LQ KHU ERQHV ,WÂśV SDUW RI KHU PDNHXS MXVW OLNH KHU VNLQ DQG KHU KDLU DQG KHU VSLQGO\ ÂżQJHUV 0HPRULHV FRQÂżUP WKLV Me’s mother tells her about Granny—a goddess of a woman prone WR ÂżWV RI UDJH DQG GHSUHVVLRQ DOLNH 6RPHWLPHV *UDQQ\ÂśV NLGV DOO VHYHQ RI them, were afraid to move or say a word in fear that the woman was in one of her moods. By the time that Me was born, she imagines that Granny settled VRPHZKDW LQ KHU ROG DJH +HU JUDQGPRWKHU ZDV D GLIÂżFXOW ZLOG FROG ZDUP affectionate, mean woman—that’s for sure, and Me received a belt across her bare back and bare ass enough not to question my mother’s stories of her childhood. The insanity was there, unquestionable. It was a part of everyone’s lives. And besides, does the starting point of the illness matter at all? This is not like that lecture all high school history teachers give at the beginning of their course. No—understanding the past does not help us to understand the present. Psycho grapples with the disease everyday, and even when it feels RND\ HYHQ ZKHQ LW IHHOV ÂżQH²VKH NQRZV WKDW WKDW LV MXVW WKH QDWXUH RI WKH bipolar. The next truly heinous day is only a full moon away. The chemicals are just regrouping. 5. If I told you that Psycho was a werewolf you’d think I was just being one of those trendy authors—you know, all hip with the young folks. If I said WKDW WHHWK WKDW ZHUH QHYHU WKHUH EHIRUH HUXSW IURP KHU JXPV EUHDN KHU Ă€HVK make her mouth bleed and contort and chomp, but only when the moon is as full as her girlfriend’s breasts in her teenage hands, you’d think I was just trying to sell you on the next young adult novel sensation. But she is like that 24

broken clock in Granny’s attic. Tick then tick then tock then tick again. Anorexic moons are good for her, but when they get wanton and trolORS\ VKRZLQJ RII WKHLU VNLQ WR 0H WKH PRRQÂśV SDOH Ă€HVK URXQG DQG SHUIHFW DQG IXOO DIWHU LWÂśV JDLQHG VRPH ZHLJKW DQG VRPH FRQÂżGHQFH EDFN DOO RI KHOOÂśV demons break free from the gates. The end is here. Because what solution is there for disaster? What remedy is there for disease without cure? This is a narrative without a denouement, and therefore maybe not a narrative at all. The only realization that Psycho had was that there was a name for her pathology. 6KH VLWV RQ WKH EHG ZULWLQJ WKH *UHDW $PHULFDQ 1RYHO -RKQ 'RH VLWV next to her. He stands up and tells her that he is going to the kitchen for a snack. And for a moment, a moment, she gets worried. He does, too. They know how this scene plays out. 6KH VPLOHV DW KLP DQG VD\V Âł*HW PH D GLHW SRS"´ He smiles back and says, “Cool.â€? “Hey,â€? the woman calls after him as he starts to leave the room. “Mhm?â€? “I love you very much. And I appreciate that you are there for me, that you stand by me even though I hurt you.â€? $QG WKH %R\ :KR 5HGHHPV WKH 8QLYHUVH VD\V Âł2I FRXUVH ´ And his love—and the love of her mother and family and friends—it’s the one constant. As she swings up and down, going bat shit crazy, they alZD\V FDWFK KHU ZKHQ VKH IDOOV RII WKH ULGH 6KH ZRQGHUV WKRXJK ZKHQ KHU weight will become too much.

25

LIKE CYCLES OF WATER I RETURN TO SKY Andrew Payton

Driving through West Virginia land with my father, we stop at a graveyard full of two centuries of our blood and bone. He takes pictures, and I take a piss on a rosebush. We visit cousins in toothless shacks; I see my name and nose in the pallor of their faces; I hear my voice in the whir of machined organs. And it appears to me now, I may never face the cry that comes when I am half-awake. 2QFH , DP WROG WKH EORRG RI D ZLOG ,QGLDQ broke into our line, and ever since they have bleached and bleached to remove the stain. ,Q WKH VZHDW RI DQ (DVW &RDVW VXPPHU in the house where I was born, I think again of packing my bags. I walk out into the moon, and ask: carve me out of this piece of myself, so that I may see into the midnight of America. Naked and unknowing, the land weeps under the harsh reproach of the coal-powered streetlamps. What must I do to reclaim my place amongst the things that howl, and the sun that is new and new and new?

26

PRINCE AND SWAY Thomas Michael McDade

A gambling fever came over me after I spotted an ad for a round trip bus to Lincoln Downs in the Providence Journal. I asked myVHOI Âł6DQIRUG \RX IHHOLQJ OXFN\"´ +H DQVZHUHG D WKXQGHULQJ Âł<(6 6,5(( 720 ´ 0\ HDUO\ OLEHUW\ FKLW VDLOHG WKURXJK WKH FKDLQ RI FRPPDQG , KDGQÂśW EHHQ LQ DQ\ WURXEOH VLQFH P\ VKLS WKH 866 0XOOLQQL[ returned from the latest Med cruise. Arriving about an hour before post, I dodged tipsters to pick up a Morning Telegraph. I dropped a buck in a green bucket a nun with a gold tooth and mirrored sunglasses held in one hand, tambourine in the other. Yeah, Jesus loves horseplayers too, for a price. Christ, KHU VKDGHV ZHUH VXUH ODUJH ZRXOG UHĂ€HFW HQRXJK RI D PDQÂśV IDFH IRU VKDYLQJ , Ă€LSSHG D FRLQ KHDGV VHQW PH WR WKH 9LFWRU\ %DU ,ÂśG VSRWWHG from the bus, a reasonable walk from the track. I didn’t have a lot of trust in my tattered and blurred fake ID but what the heck. It worked. Being in uniform must have gotten me by. A beer and shot rocked me since I’d been dry for a couple of weeks. A dimpled, blonde-headed number named Faith asked what the thirteen buttons on my bells VLJQLÂżHG , WROG KHU WKH RULJLQDO VWDWHV DQG FKDQFHV WR VD\ QR $IWHU D URXQG RI OXVWLHU Ă€LUWLQJ VKH VXGGHQO\ NLVVHG PH IXOO RQ WKH OLSV EHIRUH handing me a twenty-dollar bill and a slip of paper the size of two fortunes from cookies that read like this: Dresses dancing Clothespin castanets Winter snapping still 6KH VDLG WKDW D ZRUG RU WZR ZRXOG SRLQW WR D ORQJVKRW EHW WKH twenty to win, no lame place or show, just win. I offered my Telegraph hoping she’d make the selection but winking one of her green eyes at me, she was gone as quickly as if her angry husband or lover KDG ZDONHG LQ WKH VLGH GRRU 6KH GLGQÂśW ZHDU D ZHGGLQJ EDQG WKRXJK 27

The bartender named Cicero stood there, arms crossed, about ready to burst a gut laughing. I left before his intestines hit the wall. There was a long line at the Lincoln Downs grandstand entrance. I zipped through horse names while waiting. Faith’s request was easy, Winter Prince, 30-1 in the eighth. The chain link fence topped with barbed wire reminded me of the Thistledown barrier I’d jumped so many times back home. There was no need to leave the ground here since my uniform clicked again. The clerk in the booth saluted and directed me around the turnstile. An old man whose left eye looked like a glass replacement, touched my pea FRDW VOHHYH Âł)RU OXFN ´ KH VDLG Âł:LVK , FRXOG ÂżW LQWR P\ ::,, PRGHO ´ , heard someone call him Wilfred. He wore a red and black checked jacket WKDW UHPLQGHG PH RI P\ ÂżUVW WULS WR D UDFHWUDFN :KHQ , ZDV WHQ D PDQ ZKR ZRUH WKH VDPH W\SH GURYH WKH 6W 0DWWKHZÂśV (OHPHQWDU\ VFKRRO EXV +LV KDW was a toque to us but a watch cap to him. Pushed forward, it rested against his wild, bushy eyebrows. He’d babble about a ship that took a kamikaze hit after his transfer following a head injury. A swinging gun mount barrel clocked him. He believed he could have saved the ship had he been aboard. +H DOVR UDPEOHG DERXW D MD]] VLQJHU LQ &ROXPEXV 2KLR KH VWLOO ORYHG QHYHU got details on that one except her name was Camille. He didn’t complain about us calling him Barnacle Bill and singing the ditty. It dawned on me WKDW Âł:LOIUHG´ ZDVQÂśW VR IDU RII IURP Âł:LOOLDP %LOO ´ 2QH PRUQLQJ %DUQDFOH smelled more of alcohol than usual. He was chanting what sounded like a SUD\HU $OO , FRXOG PDNH RXW ZDV Âł6HUHQLW\ ´ 0\ PRWKHU ZKLVSHUHG WR PH ODWHU WKDW LW ZDV D SUD\HU DOFRKROLFV VD\ +H VQDSSHG KLV ÂżQJHUV DV LI KHDULQJ music far off our wavelength. As it turned out, he was snapping along racehorses. He drove us to Thistledown, marched us off the bus to the fence where we could see the end of morning workouts. A couple of kids were scared purple and green EXW VRRQ WUHDWHG RXU DGYHQWXUH DV D ÂżHOG WULS :KHQ D MRFNH\ RU H[HUFLVH boy rode over to us on a tall grey horse with a maroon saddlecloth. Veronica Leary asked the horse’s name. “He’s so slow I call him forty-weight oil,â€? said the little man. I was a Tarzan fan so I christened him Tarzan’s original name, Greystoke. Riding off, the rider waved to us, Lone Ranger style I thought, just as the state troopers arrived. The Barnacle got off a roundhouse that glanced off one cop’s face. We heard later that our whacky wandering driver 28

ODQGHG LQ D VWDWH PHQWDO KRVSLWDO 2XU QH[W SLORW ZDV ERULQJ +H ZRUH D MDFNHW ERZ WLH DQG FXW XV QR JRRÂżQJ RII VODFN ZRXOG SXOO RYHU DQG VWRS WKH bus if anyone stood up. Maybe Barnacle Bill pointed me toward the Navy. No, he can’t take all the racetrack credit though; my father gets some. , JODQFHG XS DW WKH 6WDUV 6WULSHV DV P\ IDWKHU DOZD\V GLG DW 7KLVWOH WR FKHFN ZLQG VSHHG DQG GLUHFWLRQ , ÂżJXUHG IURQW UXQQLQJ :LQWHU 3ULQFH would be up against it in the stretch. My father wouldn’t have given the nag a thought, but he never was a hunch player. A friend of his told him he should have been an actuary, his Morning Telegraph so gummed up with ÂżJXUHV :RXOG D ZRPDQ OLNH )DLWK KDYH FRQYHUWHG KLP WR EOLQG OXFN LQ his youth? Two old men sitting near me were discussing a horse they’d once ZRQ D EXQGOH EHWWLQJ $SULO 6NLHV 7KH JLUO EDFN KRPH ZKRÂśG VHQW D Âł'HDU Johnâ€? I’d received in Barcelona had a birthday in that month. I wondered if Barnacle’s Columbus sendoff had arrived by mail. Listening to the old men got me recalling my father rattling on about KLV IDYRULWH KRUVHV (YHU\ WLPH ZHÂśG JRQH WR 7KLVWOHGRZQ WRJHWKHU KHÂśG JLYHQ PH D UXQQLQJ GHVFULSWLRQ RI )LQG ZLQQLQJ WKH ÂżIW\ WKUHH 2KLR 'HUE\ , hadn’t hit a horse as memorable as Find yet. Maybe Winter Prince would be the one. When I pictured my father at the track, I saw him in an old slouch hat he claimed was his lucky charm. According to my mother, it was a halfassed disguise to go unrecognized by whichever brother he happened to be feuding with at the time. He was always at odds with one of them. He’d VNLSSHG P\ 8QFOH 'XQFDQÂśV IXQHUDO I had the winner of the second race courtesy of Faith’s poem. I guess that’s what you’d call it, even though it didn’t rhyme. The horse’s name was 'DQFH 7HDP , GRQÂśW XVXDOO\ EHW HYHQ PRQH\ IDYRULWHV EXW ÂżJXUHG ,ÂśG WHVW out her system. I visited the bar to drink to Faith. The bartender asked for an ID, examined it, smiled and said, “Close enough for government work, 6DLORU ´ ZKLOH SRXULQJ D VKRW RI &URZQ 5R\DO 7KH 'RQDOG 'XFN VXLW KDG been handy again. Imagine, celebrating a $4.00 mutual, must be out of my head! I nursed the whisky, reran my Faith button experience recalling her pushing her hair over a pearl studded ear. I thought more about my father. , PLVVHG KLP DQG 2KLR +H ZDV VL[W\ WKUHH DQG VXIIHUHG IURP EOHHGLQJ ulcers. I’d had nightmares about him dying before I saw him again. I prom29

ised myself to request leave as soon as I returned to the ship instead of waiting for Christmas. :LQWHU 3ULQFH ZDV LQ WKH HLJKWK UDFH +LV MRFNH\ ZDV 5DXO 6DQWR %\ that time, I was ahead sixty-eight dollars thanks to a ten to one shot named Gunwale. Hell, boot camp naval nomenclature classes were worth something DIWHU DOO 6RUU\ )DLWK QR PDWFKHV IRXQG LQ \RXU SUHVFULSWLRQ 7KH ZLQG KDG IDGHG FRQVLGHUDEO\ 7KH Ă€DJ Ă€XWWHUHG ZHDNO\ , EHW WKLUW\ WR ZLQ DQG WZHQW\ to place for myself. I added another ten to Faith’s twenty and plunked it conÂżGHQWO\ RQ WKDW :LQWHU 3ULQFHÂśV ZLUH VK\ QRVH 'XULQJ WKH SRVW SDUDGH KH let loose a royal plop. A Thistle tout I knew who called himself Wynn Ticket, RQFH FRQÂżGHG VXFK D VL]DEOH GURS ZDV JRRG OXFN $W OHDVW OHVV ZHLJKW WR FDUU\ , DOZD\V ÂżJXUHG +H FODLPHG WKDW KHÂśG JURZQ DQ DZDUG ZLQQLQJ NXPTXDW plant using the stool of a 21 length winner as fertilizer. He’d have been okay with “orangeâ€? or “lemonâ€? but “kumquatâ€? provided too many possibilities for off-color jokes. Wynn recovered quickly when he found that more people bought his tip-sheet for a chance to goof on him up close. I had no qualms about the bet until I saw the post parade. Don’t you NQRZ WKHUH ZDV D VWDWHO\ JUH\ QDPHG 6SLF\ 6ZD\ WKDW VQDSSHG *UH\VWRNH into mind? The jock was a Bill, Bill Cardin! Nothing is easy at the track. 6SLF\ÂśV VDGGOHFORWK ZDV \HOORZ DV D VFKRRO EXV $OWKRXJK KH ZDV D PHUH , DOPRVW UDQ WR WKH ZLQGRZ WR SODFH D EDFNXS ZDJHU 1R JR ZLWK \RXU ÂżUVW impression Tom, like multiple-choice tests. Winter Prince had a plus sign on KLV IRUHKHDG WKDW , WRRN DV D VLJQ ,ÂśG SURÂżW 7KH UDFH GLVWDQFH ZDV D PLOH DQG D VL[WHHQWK 7KH ÂżHOG FRQVLVWHG RI non-winners of their last three. The break formed a check mark as if they’d DOO GUHDPHG WKH Ă€\LQJ VW\OH RI WKH JHHVH WKDW FODLPHG WKH LQÂżHOG ODJRRQ 6SLF\ 6ZD\ ZDV WKH OHDGLQJ WLS 3DVVLQJ WKH FOXEKRXVH IROORZ WKH OHDGHU IRUPDtion developed along the rail except for Winter Prince. The disobedient child RQ D VFKRRO ÂżHOG WULS PDWFKHG VWULGHV IURP WKH PLGGOH RI WKH WUDFN ZLWK 5R\DO Friend, the last horse in line. Prince hadn’t broken so far back in his last ten starts. Giving up hope, I moved the tickets into ripping position but reached for the chance that his trainer had converted him from a front-running fool to a Whirlaway closer type. I paid my money. I deserved optimism at least and a good look at the race. I’d rented binoculars. 7KH DQQRXQFHUÂśV GURQLQJ YRLFH ZDV VWXFN 6SLF\ 6ZD\ 7RRWKSLFN 30

Lightning Lil and Hay Hauler. He didn’t bother with any others until the far turn when Texas Bullet and Naturalist kicked up clods of dirt high swinging out of the procession to create a horserace, so to speak. Winter Prince maintained his shadow-like plod until Royal Friend abruptly pulled up lame. Turning into the stretch, the two challengers got within a length of Cardin DQG KLV 6SLF\ 6ZD\ 6XQGD\ VWUROO 7KH MRFNH\ ULGLQJ 1DWXUDOLVW ORVW KLV ZKLS He faded under token hand urging. Winter Prince initiated a steady gain DIWHU 6DQWR ZDYHG KLV ZKLS LQ KLV IDFH 6SULQWLQJ WR WKH IHQFH , ZDWFKHG him collar Texas Bullet. His unusually tall sliver of a jockey stood up in the VDGGOH HDVLQJ KLV PRXQW $IWHU DOO 6SLF\ 6ZD\¶V RGGV KDG SOXPPHWHG WR VXUH WKLQJ 6RPH VLWXDWLRQV UHTXLUH GLWFKLQJ DOO VXEWOHW\ The rest of the horses dotted the track like dream geese disoriented E\ D EDFN¿ULQJ SLFNXS LQ WKH VWDEOH DUHD 7KH 3ULQFH IRXQG D EXUVW RI VSHHG DSSURDFKLQJ WKH HLJKWK SROH 'DPQHG LI , ZDVQ¶W VQDSSLQJ P\ ¿QJHUV OLNH %DUQDFOH %LOO KLPVHOI 6ZHUYLQJ DEUHDVW RI UDLO KXJJLQJ 6SLF\ 6ZD\ :LQWHU Prince’s head bobbed in unison with the darling of the crowd and smart PRQH\ 6DQWR ZKLSSHG WKH 3ULQFH DV LI D WKLHYLQJ SHDVDQW ,W DSSHDUHG WKH 3ULQFH WRRN D QRVH RI FRQWURO GHVSLWH &DUGLQ¶V ZKLS ¿QGLQJ 6DQWR¶V OHIW DUP EXW 6SLF\ ZRXOGQ¶W TXLW FDPH RQ DJDLQ 7KH\ KLW WKH ZLUH DV RQH D GHWHUPLQHG FRQVSLUDF\ WR EUHDN P\ QHUYHV GRZQ , VDZ &DUGLQ JODUH RYHU DW 6DQWR VZLSLQJ DQ LQGH[ ¿QJHU DFURVV KLV WKURDW 7KH SKRWR VLJQ OLW XS 0\ DGUHQDO JODQGV ZHUH K\GUDQWV DW D ¿YH DODUP ¿UH , FRXOG KDYH MXPSHG RQWR WKH WUDFN GDVKHG VL[ IXUORQJV LQ D minute eight. The usual cries mingled: inside horse got it, no, outside every WLPH )RXO , WHOO \RX 6SLF\ DOPRVW NQRFNHG LQWR WKH LQ¿HOG 2QH YRLFH \HOOHG GHDG KHDW UHSHDWHGO\ 7KH ¿QLVK PXVW KDYH EHHQ HYHQ FORVHU WKDQ LW ORRNHG with the payoff posting delay. I didn’t care how simple I looked. I stuck my ¿QJHUV LQ P\ HDUV DQG FORVHG P\ H\HV 'HDWK FRXOGQ¶W KDYH PXWHG WKH URDUV of joy and disgust. I opened my senses with pessimistic jerks. The tote board KDG JRQH GDUN +HDULQJ FDOOV IRU WKH 'XW\ (OHFWULFLDQ EODVWLQJ IURP WKH 3 $ system made me think I was back aboard ship. $ PDQ LQ EDFN RI PH ZHDULQJ D %RVWRQ 5HG 6R[ FDS ORXGO\ SUHGLFWHG they’d refund all money like when the gate only opens for half the horses or when the gate for a race slated for a mile-seventy is placed at the mile and DQ HLJKWK VWDUW )LYH PRUH PLQXWHV ZDV DOO LW WRRN 6RPH RI WKH OLJKWV RQ WKH WRWH OLW XS EXW WKH UHVXOW VORWV ZHUH HPSW\ ³6RPHWKLQJ LQ /LQFROQ LV URWWHQ ´ 31

said a preppy-looking kid with a babe who looked like a model hanging on his trench-coated arm. Fans were screaming and yelling like teens forced RXW RI D %HDWOHV FRQFHUW 6XGGHQO\ , KHDUG VRPHRQH \HOO Âł0HGLF 0HGLF ´ , turned to see rent-a-cops kneeling by a fallen race fan. I felt something hit my shoe. It looked like a kid’s marble, not quite “boulderâ€? size. I dropped my Morning Telegraph over it. As the stretcher passed, I saw the black checked jacket draped on the sheet that covered the face. Poor Wilfred, believer in pea coat luck, screwed. I picked up the round object under my Telegraph using a Juicy Fruit wrapper lying next to it. Christ, it was his glass eye and it gave me the willies. I placed the orb in my pocket to toss overboard next WLPH WKH 0XOOLQQL[ JRW XQGHUZD\ , ÂżJXUHG D IRUPHU VDLORU ZRXOG DSSUHFLDWH something of him buried at sea. There will be no more trespassing on my pea coat sleeve, folks, don’t need more guilt like that. I bet with myself that any tickets in Wilfred’s pocket wouldn’t make it to his next of kin. I said a prayer for him, quickly crossed myself. The P.A. system blared again but it wasn’t calling for the duty electrician and I wondered why I hadn’t heard it ask if there was a doctor present. 5HG 6R[ ZDV ULJKW $OO HLJKWK UDFH ZDJHUV QXOO DQG YRLG GXH WR SKRWR ÂżQLVK camera malfunction, all cashiers open for refunds: more roars jeered the announcement. A better next to me breathed a loud sigh of relief, must have been among the bunch that saw nothing worthy in the past performances RI :LQWHU 3ULQFH RU 6SLF\ 6ZD\ $ NLG ZKR GLGQÂśW ORRN ROG HQRXJK WR OHJDOO\ EHW VSLW D FXVVLQJ VWULQJ SXQFWXDWHG ZLWK ),;(6 , ZRQGHUHG LI WKH RXWFRPH KDG VDYHG 5DXO 6DQWR ZKR , LPDJLQHG ZRXOG HQG XS FHPHQW VKRHG LQ 1DUragansett Bay. I read somewhere that you can’t die at the racetrack because there’s always another race, another day. Wilfred put the lie to that but there was another race, something like that. The crowd must have read the same quote. The racetrack got quiet and past performance study resumed. The robbery was more than money. I lost a great racetrack story to brag about to my father. Who’d want to broadcast bad luck? I wondered if ,ÂśG FRQWUDGLFW WKDW VRPHGD\ 1R UHUXQQLQJ WKH :LQWHU 3ULQFH 6SLF\ 6ZD\ GXHO LQ WKH IXWXUH DW UDFHWUDFNV DQG EDUV OLYHOLHU WKDQ WKH $SULO 6NLHV IDQÂśV GHOLYHU\ , ÂżJXUHG , ZRXOGQÂśW WHOO )DLWK +HOO VKHÂśG SUREDEO\ UHDG DERXW WKH UDFH LQ WKH SDSHUV DQ\ZD\ VLQFH LW ZDV VXFK D ZHLUG ÂżQLVK 32

7KHUH ZDV D IXOO ÂżHOG RI WZHOYH LQ WKH ODVW UDFH $ KRUVH QDPH RI More Music, was not a longshot, just a measly 4-1, but “castanetsâ€? had to do with music, right? There was no drama in this race. More Music won wire to wire by six lengths. I guess there was some luck in my pea coat, for me anyway. I bet what had gone on Winter Prince. I walked slowly to the Victory even though it meant missing the bus. I wondered if she’d click glasses with me, arms entwined, to a 4-1 shot. I didn’t feel like the king of horseplayers, as I would have with Winter PrinceO\ FDVK LQ P\ ZDOOHW 6KH ZDV DPRQJ WKH PLVVLQJ VR , ZHQW WR WKH PHQÂśV room to wash off Wilfred’s glass eye. A man wearing an American Legion pisscutter cap sat at her table doing a post mortem on his Telegraph. Three men drank silently at the bar where Cicero was still working. Drawing me a mug of Narragansett Beer, he explained that Cicero was just a nickname after where he grew up but he could orate some. “Amen,â€? bellowed the patriot. 'XULQJ WKH ZDU &LFHUR KDG EHHQ D VLJQDOPDQ RQ WKH 866 0DVVDFKXsetts. He’d fallen in love with a WAC from Providence where they’d settled after they married. He suggested I visit the battleship, now a museum in Fall River. “Matter of fact, we could go right now. I’d give you the grand WRXU 0H DQG WKH ZDWFKPDQ DUH WLJKW ´ KH VDLG WZLQLQJ WZR ÂżQJHUV LQ P\ face. I know every inch of that ship, every barnacle on the hull! “Barnacle,â€? I said, “I once knew a Barnacle Bill, drove a school bus!â€? Âł6FKRRO EXV KHOPV DWWUDFW VRPH ZHLUG SLHFHV RI ZRUN ´ VDLG &LFHUR Âł,V WKH EDU JRLQJ WR WHQG LWVHOI ZKLOH \RX FKDUDFWHUV WRXU WKH 866 Rust Bucket?â€? shouted the Legionnaire. “Just kidding, Boss, but have a little respect,â€? Cicero cautioned. “When I was in,â€? he continued, wiping the bar as if he had polish on the rag, “it was wooden ships and iron men.â€? He reached over and punched me lightly on the arm. “Holy shit,â€? he exclaimed, “I got a splinter in my ÂżVW ´ +H ODXJKHG OLNH D PDQLDF 2QH RI WKH WKUHH PHQ VKDULQJ WKH EDU ZLWK PH VODPPHG GRZQ KLV HPSW\ PXJ &LFHUR OHDQHG FORVH WR PH Âł6D\ NLG , hear Faith took a shine to you, better watch out she’ll tie up in more ways than a chief boatswain’s mate giving a knot class to a gaggle of recruits.â€? “A good knot is one that’s easy to untie,â€? I said. 33

“Bad ones can deep-six you,â€? he countered, pointing to a small quilt hanging on the far wall next to the clock. I walked over and read the writing on it: $VKWUD\V RYHUĂ€RZ Marlboro perfume 1LSSOH ÂżOWHU WLSV ,Q WKH ORZHU FRUQHU ZDV VWLWFKHG Âł)DLWK 6 ´ , GLGQÂśW NQRZ ZKDW WR VD\ XQWLO “Hot ticketâ€? popped out. Cicero wagged his head back and forth as if I’d missed his point by a nautical mile. I wondered how many winners were in those words. A man could go through a week of racing without a clear match. Maybe she’d immortalized me in three lines of words on cloth. Ha! I asked Cicero for an envelope for Faith’s money. Could I trust him? He swore, hand on heart that he’d deliver it to her. He called Royal Cab, told them to send a whaleboat. “Be very careful, kid,â€? said Cicero before calling me a good sport and pouring an on-the-house shot after tending to the mug slammer. Getting up to leave, I drank it quickly. “Wait a minute,â€? he said, rolling up his sleeve to show me a tattoo of a bare-chested hula girl. He twitched his muscle; the WLUHG ÂżJXUH GLGQÂśW GDQFH HQRXJK WR UDWH DSSODXVH EXW , FODSSHG DQ\ZD\ , tried to imagine Cicero young, his tattoo bright, glistening. How many times had that inky dancer performed? I thought about the crossed anchors on my DUP DQG LPDJLQHG WKHP D FRXSOH RI ÂżVKKRRNV ZKHQ , ZDV ROG “Let’s see your tattoos, wooden sailor,â€? said Cicero, with unexpected contempt. “Hey Cicero,â€? I said, “Your bicep babe’s ass is busted.â€? He grabbed his OHIW ELFHS VKRW KLV ÂżVWHG IRUHDUP LQWR WKH DLU D JHVWXUH , VDZ VWDUW D EORRG\ brawl at Rosa’s Bar in Naples. As I stood in front of the Victory Bar waiting for the taxi, I mourned the :LQWHU 3ULQFH Ă€RS , VDOXWHG WKH UDFHWUDFN Ă€DJ LQ WKH GLVWDQFH OLPS DJDLQVW its pole, as a school bus approached. Maybe the booze gave it the slow motion effect you see in movies. Was Cicero’s mentioning battleship barnacles D SDVVZRUG WR D WLPH PDFKLQH RU FRXOG P\ ÂżQJHUV RQ :LOIUHGÂśV H\HEDOO LQ P\ SRFNHW EH WKH WLFNHW" 7KH SDVVHQJHUV ZHUHQÂśW ÂżIWK JUDGHUV WKRXJK ORRNHG 34

OLNH KLJK VFKRRO IRRWEDOO SOD\HUV ³6HUHQLW\´ ZDVQ¶W RQ WKH GHVWLQDWLRQ VLJQ , thought of Greystoke but no Tarzan call jiggled my vocal chords. Faith was GULYLQJ 6KH JDYH PH D WKXPE XS , FRXOG IHHO P\VHOI WLJKWHQLQJ ,¶P SRVLWLYH it was her thumb.

35

AND STILL THE EVIL Karin Rosman Auntie and I don’t go to church but in the summer, when it’s warm and the sound of cicadas are the only thing that is crisp. Auntie wants me to have PRUH PXVLF LQ P\ OLIH 6KH VD\V VKH FDQ GR PRVW WKLQJV IRU PH EXW VKH FDQœW do that, and there’s no church she is going to take me to but a snake church. 6KH OD\V P\ FORWKHV RXW IRU PH D VKLUW WKDW FRYHUV P\ DUPV DQG EXWWRQV DOO the way to my throat, a skirt that covers my knees and makes it most ways down my legs, even when I sit. 2QFH ,œP GUHVVHG ,œP QRW VXSSRVHG WR GR DQ\WKLQJ EXW JHW LQ WKH car. But I can’t resist poking Mickey with a stick. Mickey’s a brindle dog that lives under the front steps. We got a lot of dogs but Mickey is by far the meanest. We got dogs because we won’t shoot them. Anyone who has a dog WKDW WKH\ GRQœW ZDQW WR NHHS DQ\PRUH EXW WKH\ ZRQœW JHW ULG RI LW E\ ¿UHDUP RU JXQQ\ VDFN WKH\ GURS LW RII DW RXU KRXVH 8VXDOO\ WKH\ GR LW ZKHQ ZHœUH at church, but sometimes they do it when we’re at home. They just drive up and push the dog out, then drive away fast enough that the dog can’t keep up with them. Then the eight or nine that stick around our place come runQLQJ LQ D SDFN WR JUHHW WKH QHZ GRJ 7KH\ ¿JKW ZLWK WKH QHZ GRJ DQG UHHVWDEOLVK RUGHU DQG WKHQ WKH GRJ VWLFNV DURXQG 2U GRHVQœW $XQWLH EHOLHYHV LQ free will for all living things. 0LFNH\œV WKH PHDQHVW ELWFK ZH HYHU KDG 6KH FDPH WR XV ZLWK VZD\ing tits but no puppies and she isn’t ever going to recover from that. I like to poke Mickey with a stick because she bit me. I got three white marks on my butt to prove it. Auntie didn’t shoot Mickey for that but she did beat her with a stick. It proved useful because Mickey still doesn’t like me, but all I have to do is pick up a stick and she runs under the steps. That’s why I like to poke her with the stick when I come outside to show her that I can walk down those steps with a dog snarling and snapping under them. Auntie really is my auntie and we live in the same house that my PRP DQG PH OLYHG LQ 2QH GD\ P\ PRP ZDV JRQH DQG $XQWLH ZDV WKHUH 7KH PDQ FDPH E\ WR VD\ WKDW ZH ZHUH VTXDWWHUV DQG $XQWLH VDLG ³6RPHRQHœV JRW 36

to take care of the girl.� I would miss my mom but I mostly only remember KHU OHDYLQJ ,W ZDVQœW WKH ¿UVW WLPH $XQWLH FRPHV RXW DQG WXUQV WKH VSULQNOHU RQ 6KH ORRNV QRUPDO IRU D VXPPHU 6XQGD\ 6KH KDV RQH VNLUW WKDW JRHV SDVW KHU NQHHV HYHQ ZKHQ VKH VLWV DQG VKH LV ZHDULQJ LW QRZ ,WœV PDGH RI EOXH IDGHG FDOLFR MXVW OLNH PLQH and just like me, she has a shirt that buttons past her throat and covers her whole arms. Her face is washed and shines in the sunlight; her hair is pulled LQWR D EXQ 6KH ORRNV ROG :H JHW LQ WKH FDU DQG %OXH IROORZV XV %OXH LV WKH QLFH GRJ 6KH VOHHSV with me at night and can’t stand to be separated from me. But she can’t go to church either, and not just because of the snakes. Her tongue is lolling out and she follows us to where the road is washboarded. We lift our feet when we go over the washboards. The wheels go brrrr and the car slides a little. Auntie laughs! I lift my feet and listen to her laugh but I don’t stop watching for Blue. I never like it when she follows us to the road as dogs get hit when they come to the road. Church is way up in the mountains. It’s just an old meeting place and it doesn’t have a steeple. The oaks have grown tall around it, whispering their green. When we go in, I look at Auntie and how she slips in among the women. I know she doesn’t take me here to learn music. Just as it never reDOO\ HQGV XQWLO SHRSOH WLUH DQG OLH ¿QLVKHG DQG WZLWFKLQJ RQ WKH ÀRRU LW QHYHU really begins, either. At some point, people begin to sing, and at some point they stop. When they stop is when preacher is at the pulpit and they are still humming and swaying. He sees us, but then his eyes go somewhere inside, and he sees only the spirit. People keep coming. His sermon-song is pulling WKHP IURP ZKDWHYHU WKH\ ZHUH GRLQJ (YHQ $XQWLH ZKR FDQ EH KDWHIXO RI church, comes into his words. There are words that are meant for us, and ZRUGV PHDQW IRU WKH LQWHUSUHWHUV DQG ZRUGV PHDQW IRU WKH 6SLULW 7KHUH DUH DOVR WKH VQDNHV :KHQ WKH VQDNHV FRPH RXW , NQRZ WKDW WKH 6SLULW GRHV QRW want me. The snakes are passed above me and around me. There is dancLQJ DQG FDOOLQJ WKH VFULSWXUH (YHQ $XQWLH WDNHV D VQDNH DQG KROGV LW WR KHU IDFH 6KH OHWV WKH VQDNH GUDSH RYHU KHU KHDG DQG DURXQG KHU QHFN 6KH OLIWV KHU DUPV DQG KHU ERG\ PRYHV +HU PRXWK LV RSHQ WR WKH 6SLULW EXW VKH LV QRW bitten.

37

The blue sky has darkened when we leave and I lift my face to the sky. I leave my eyes open and turn and turn. I love the movement of the clouds when , DP WXUQLQJ $XQWLH VHHV WKLV DQG WHOOV PH WR FORVH P\ H\HV 6KH VD\V WKDW WKHUH is an evil in all of us, even in me, in ways that I’m not even aware of. There are seven houses between us and the church. Auntie calls the men who live in those houses brothers, even though they aren’t. They all have ULĂ€HV 6RRQ WKHUH ZLOO EH D EXFN KDQJLQJ E\ LWV EDFN OHJV RQH IRU HDFK RI WKH seven houses. We pass the seventh house and lift our feet as brrr! we go over the washboards. Auntie is humming the punctuation of the preacher’s sermon. “Back, safe, home again,â€? she says. The sky is dark blue but it’s not night yet. The dogs come running to us when we get out of the car. I count eleven of them, which is two more than ZKHQ ZH OHIW ([FHSW %OXH LVQÂśW ZLWK WKHP VR WKHUH DUH WKUHH PRUH 7KH VSULQkler is saying “chit, chit, chit,â€? and Blue is lying on her side, just beyond its watery reach. Mickey is there, too, sitting and growling, but I ignore her and go to Blue. I can see that she is breathing because her ribs are going up and down and up and down. I go over her to see what is wrong and there is a round hole where a bullet has gone in. If I were a dog, my bite scar would be in the same place that the bullet hole is. But it is not a big hole, so I keep looking with P\ H\HV DQG ZLWK P\ KDQGV , FDQÂśW ÂżQG DQ\WKLQJ VR , SXW P\ KDQG GRZQ WR get up. That’s where the blood and some of her guts are, in the grass. Now she is taking short breaths and whining them out. I sit back down and try to put the guts back in. I can tell that I am hurting her, so I stop. I lie next to her and FRYHU KHU ZLWK P\ VNLUW 6KH OLFNV P\ IDFH DQG OHWV KHU EUHDWK RXW ZLWK D ZKLQH Her tongue is dry and sticks to my face. That’s how I start crying and I can’t keep it to myself. Auntie stands over us and gives us shade until she kneels down. Âł6RPHWLPHV GRJV KDYH HYLO PRPHQWV WRR ´ Blue stops panting and dies. I’m all done with Blue because I can’t do for her what she did for me, which was to protect me from the evil moments that come in the night. When I stand up, there is a stick at my feet and I believe it is a sign. I pick it up and go to the front steps. The air is still except for the twirl of insects and Auntie’s EUHDWK 0LFNH\ LV VQDUOLQJ DW PH 6KH LV DOO WHHWK DQG XJOLQHVV , ZDWFK KHU while she snaps at me and then I drive that stick right into her eye. 38

THE BARN Jessica Poli I go there now, walk on molding feathers, dead hen in the corner. Where we held sweaty hands and pushed together foreheads. The room where I undressed, ZKHUH EHVLGH VDFNV RI ÀRXU and creased Bible pages I curled my new and unused body around yours. Where I shed a teaspoon of blood QRZ GULHG RQ ÀRRUERDUGV Where without reservation you peeled me like the rind of an unripe fruit, gnats and EDUQÀLHV ZRUNLQJ WKHLU ZD\ between our torsos. I know now that things die. A rotting hen told me. 6DLG IURP WKH FRUQHU RI WKH URRP you know you’ll have to start over. The deadbolt isn’t thrown P\ ¿QJHUV WRR VRUH WRR VWLII

but it won’t matter, you’ll never try to get in again, the barn will stay quiet and rot, and I will listen to the mold of that hen and stand in a hot steaming room, in light that comes through dirty dishes and perfume, and remove myself to boil in clouded water and add spines, vertebrae, scraps for a new body drawn up over breakfast including a detailed map of every artery and vein and every inch of my skin that wouldn’t have been touched by you. 39

LUNCH AND LOVE IN THE COTTAGE I hang cotton dresses on a line of hot nitrogen. 2XU GD\ LV DLUHG DQG QHZ the seams invisible. I wash the butter knife for the mangoes you devour in the garden, eat thorns with raspberry jam, scooping them onto silver spoons. (DUO\ LQ RXU PRUQLQJ D SDLU RI LRGLQH OLSV whispered against shaking knees. You hung across the bed like cloth along the clothesline. After we make love, I run to turn the faucet off. 7KH NLWFKHQ VLQN RYHUÀRZLQJ ZDWHU DQG WKRUQV spilling onto bleached tile. <RX ZDON LQWR WKH ÀRRG DQG ¿OO D FXS

40

QGM <GF L F==< DGN= Myfanwy Collins

The kitchen did nothing but look out onto the parking lot behind the Asian PDUNHW 6RPHWLPHV WKHUH ZHUH FUDWHV RI FKLFNV QH[W WR WKH GXPSVWHU ,I \RX RSHQHG WKH ZLQGRZ \RX FRXOG KHDU WKH EDE\ ELUGV SHHSLQJ WKHLU ÀLPV\ FODZV scrabbling against the wood. But there wasn’t anything to see, really, and now a man was dead and Junie was the only one living in the building. The lesbian couple in the apartment below Junie moved out in late $XJXVW OHDYLQJ KHU DORQH RQ WKH VHFRQG ÀRRU ZLWK RQO\ WKH ROG ODG\ LQ WKH adjoining big house. It was April and the earth was thawing. The man had died in January and stayed cold enough through the winter that she could not VPHOO KLP ,W ZDV QRW XQWLO WKH ¿UVW H[WHQGHG VWUHWFK RI ZDUP GD\V GDIIRGLOV blooming softly beneath the willow tree in the old lady’s yard, that Junie smelled his unfortunate decomposition. Festering, oozing, layering himself into dust beneath her. All those nights she had lain in her bed listening to the wind push against the storm windows, wondering about what was next and feeling an unfurling excitement in ribs. All those nights that she had reveled at being so far from home and all that was familiar to her. He had been there all those nights dead. Though there would have been some point when he wasn’t actually dead. Presumably, he had died there below her. His last breath exhaling XSZDUG DQG WKURXJK WKH ÀRRUERDUGV DQG LQWR KHU URRP +LV ODVW EUHDWK forming the shape of a cat and curling into the notch her knees made in sleep. His last breath a woman dressed in stars above her. The police had questioned her about the man even though the coroner said he had died from too much drink. A body can’t take all of that night DIWHU QLJKW $W VRPH SRLQW WKH ERG\ EUHDNV GRZQ RQH RI WKH RI¿FHUV VDLG 6KH IHOW WKH SROLFH ZHUH VNHSWLFDO DERXW KHU UHVSRQVHV WR WKHLU TXHVWLRQV DQG WKDW WKH\ KHOG KHU UHVSRQVLEOH IRU WKH PDQœV GHDWK 6KH ZDQWHG WR DVVXUH them that she would not have simply left a body to rot below her. There were places back home, out in the skunk cabbage, deep in the forest, where you FRXOG SXW D ERG\ DQG QR RQH ZRXOG HYHU ¿QG LW 1RW KHUH LQ WKLV FLW\ LQ WKHVH 41

rented rooms below her. 6KH GUDQN YRGND DV VKH VSRNH WR WKH SROLFH 6KRWV DQG VKRWV 7KH handsome one suggested she slow down. But the old lady’s son was visiting and while Junie had never liked him, she agreed that he could stay with her for an hour or so while she sobered up. The police said they wouldn’t leave until she said yes and so she said yes. The old lady’s son was 42 and malevolent. He was named Karl and had never been married and liked to lean up against his car and smoke FLJDUHWWHV DQG ELWFK WR -XQLH DERXW KLV PRWKHU 6KHœV D FXQW KH OLNHG WR VD\ and she always has been. Junie had never heard anyone say the word out loud before. It sounded even uglier coming from his pale, crusty lips. After the police left, she and Karl sat side by side on the couch drinking shots. The window was open and the sun broke through the clouds just as rain began to pour down. , OLNH WKH VRXQG RI UDLQ .DUO VDLG DQG WRRN KHU KDQG LQ KLV 6KH ZDQWHG to let go of his hand and she did not want to let go. It might have been the only thing keeping her tethered to the room as her head felt balloon-like and VZLPP\ 6KH ZDV D YDSRU Karl pulled her onto his lap, her bottom resting between his thighs. He put his arm around her back and pushed her head down to his shoulder and said, there, there, now, a darling gesture he must have learned from his old cunty mother. Junie hadn’t realized she was crying until he did that. .DUO VWURNHG KHU EDFN DQG KHOG KHU RWKHU KDQG 6KH VDZ WKDW KLV ¿QJHUV ZHUH ORYHO\ WKH QDLOV FOHDQ DQG WDSHUHG 6KH GLGQœW NQRZ ZKDW KH GLG IRU ZRUN 6KH GLGQœW QHHG WR NQRZ 6KH ZRXOG QRW ORYH KLP Junie believed that she could live in the box of her life by herself and so long as she had air and water and food, she would survive. You don’t need love, she told herself in her bed at night lying above a man who was GHDG RU G\LQJ EHQHDWK KHU ÀRRU EHQHDWK KHU EHDWLQJ KHDUW <RX GR QRW QHHG love, she said, and time will not stop. Time will not stop without it. Time is merciless.

42

SPACE CASES Patrick Henry

When I was a child, my friends always told me that Tony Putnam was a real loon, a really out-there space case. The twins and I watched Tony Putnam GXULQJ RXU VHFRQG JUDGH GD\V DW (DVWEURRNÂśV %HUJHU (OHPHQWDU\ 6FKRRO The other children giggled in the shade of the sugar maples or played Âł5DLOURDG 5REEHU´ DW WKH ZRRGHQ WUDLQ SOD\VHW 6WLOO RWKHUV JUDSSOHG DFURVV the monkey bars and the jungle gym, only to fall to the mulch chips below and then run and cry to Mr. Pasternak, our teacher and recess monitor, about bruises and brushburns. He instructed the children to go inside and WR WKH QXUVHÂśV RIÂżFH 0HDQZKLOH 7RQ\ 3XWQDP WRRN XS UHVLGHQFH DW WKH Dome, a rounded jungle gym in the playground’s corner. He clacked his ÂżQJHUQDLOV DJDLQVW WKH VWHHO WXEHV DV KH RUELWHG WKH 'RPH DQG PXWWHUHG WR himself as if in unceasing conversation with some ghost. That morning had been Tony’s turn for show-and-tell. He brought in a silver colander with small holes punched in the pattern of starbursts. He called it his “space helmet,â€? said it protected him from cosmic rays, and he donned the gleaming strainer in front of the entire class, his husky IUDPH VKDGRZHG E\ WKH ZRUG Âł63871,.´ RQ WKH EODFNERDUG EHKLQG KLP Mr. Pasternak said nothing and crossed his arms over his chest. When Tony took his seat, Mr. Pasternak remarked that it was nice to see colanders used from something other than rinsing vegetables. Now, on the playground, the sunlight refracted in a brilliant arc off his space helmet. The twins and I observed his ritual at the Dome. The twins, Claire and Laura—whom I collectively called “Cluraâ€?—were pretty, girl-next-door types with bright auburn hair and clusters of freckles on their faces. They were the sort that every little boy wants to kiss, even as he asserts that all girls are gross. The twins spoke with the same chirping voice, like a single person split in two identical bodies. “I think he’s an alien,â€? one said. “He’s too weird to be a boy,â€? the other added. “I think he’s a person,â€? I said. “No way. He’s an alien.â€? “He wears that space helmet so the sun doesn’t bake his big alien brain.â€? 43

“It’s just a colander.â€? “That’s what you think.â€? “He’s an alien. Aliens have space helmets.â€? “Clura, he’s not an alien. He’s just a boy.â€? The twins crossed their arms. “Aliens don’t have parents.â€? The other explained: “I’ve heard that Tony Putnam doesn’t have a daddy.â€? Âł7KDWÂśV VLOO\ (YHU\ERG\ KDV D GDGG\ ´ “Not Tony Putnam.â€? “He’s an alien.â€? I leaned my back against a maple tree. “There’s no such thing as aliens,â€? I said. “My dad has binders full of articles about the space race, and those don’t say a thing about aliens.â€? “That’s because your daddy doesn’t want you to worry.â€? “Aliens would probably just scare you.â€? “They wouldn’t scare me.â€? The twins gasped and hid their mouths behind their hands. “Alien lover!â€? they shouted in unison. “You’re an alien lover!â€? “Am not,â€? I grumbled. I slouched against the trunk of the tree as the twins began clapping their hands together in a game of “knick-knack SDWW\ ZKDFN ´ 2QO\ WKH\ FKDQJHG ÂłJLYH D GRJ D ERQH´ WR ÂłSOHDVH VHQG 7RQ\ home.â€? I hadn’t told the girls about my own father, about how he, too, had left several weeks before. I hadn’t told them about the months of preparation, about the boxes mailed to my uncle’s house in south Florida, about the bookshelves emptied of my father’s blue space books. Clura did not know about the sight of my parents’ bedroom from the hallway. Their open closet door invited me to stare in as my mother’s things—dresses, blouses, shoes— hung as a veil, disguising the dangling hangers where my father had kept his shirts and ties. 7KH QLJKW EHIRUH KH OHIW (DVWEURRN P\ IDWKHU DQG , OLVWHQHG WR 3UHVLGHQW .HQQHG\ÂśV DGGUHVV IURP 5LFH 8QLYHUVLW\ RQ WKH UDGLR +H VDW EHVLGH me on our plaid couch, his hand on my shoulder and a grin spreading wide across his face. His resignation at Neubauer and Meinhold, the accounting ÂżUP ZKHUH KHÂśG ZRUNHG ZDV HIIHFWLYH WKH SUHYLRXV GD\ VR KH ZDV DYDLODEOH to hear Kennedy’s address. My father wore black jeans and a white t-shirt RQ GD\V RII OLNH WKLV RQH +LV KDLU ZDV EX]]HG LQWR D Ă€DWWRS DV LI KH ZRUNHG 44

mission control at Cape Canaveral. The lenses of his thick-rimmed glasses UHĂ€HFWHG WKH FHLOLQJ OLJKW :H ERWK VWDUHG DW WKH UDGLR WKDW VDW RQ WRS RI our seldom-used television set. Kennedy’s voice crackled over the airways: We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too‌. “I’ve always had one dream,â€? my father said, pointing up to the ceiling. “And that’s to get up there.â€? My father fanned the air with his arms and then tousled my hair. But he stared beyond the radio, beyond the living room wall, all the way to Cape Canaveral. His voice—just as far away—whispered, “Kid, your generation will see all of the big things happen.â€? He sighed and sank back into the couch cushions. “I’m going to be a part of that. Can you believe it? Your old man, a part of it. Now, just remember to put this in my space books when we get the Eastbrook Gazette tomorrow.â€? Âł6XUH WKLQJ 'DG ´ , NQHZ ZKDW KH PHDQW²WKH EOXH VFUDSERRNV RQ the shelves beside the television. He collected every article that appeared in the Eastbrook Gazette that revealed any information about the space race. +H KDG DUWLFOHV DERXW 6RYLHW DQG $PHULFDQ VDWHOOLWHV WHFKQRORJLFDO PLVKDSV on both sides, monkeys in space, administrative bungling, and botched experiments and off-kilter hypotheses. My mother peered in from the kitchen. The aroma of a honey-glazed ham and the buttery smell of mashed potatoes and fresh bread followed. “Brian, can’t we have one night without space?â€? .HQQHG\ KDG ÂżQLVKHG KLV VSHHFK P\ IDWKHU ZDYHG KLV KDQG DW WKH UDGLR LQGLFDWLQJ WKDW , VKRXOG JR WXUQ LW RII , REH\HG Âł2I FRXUVH ´ KH WROG my mother. 6KH VKRRN KHU KHDG DQG ZLSHG KHU KDQGV RQ KHU DSURQ Âł:HOO GLQQHUÂśV in about ten minutes. You may want to get washed up.â€? My father patted my back. “You heard your mother, kid. Go upstairs and get washed up.â€? I slid from the couch and went upstairs to wash my hands and face in the small, white bathroom. I glanced through the porthole window. 6TXLUUHOV VFXUULHG DORQJ WKH VLGLQJ 7KH URDU RI DQ HQJLQH ÂżOOHG WKH URRP D 45

FDU ZDV GULYLQJ GRZQ 3HPEHUWRQ 6WUHHW , GULHG P\ KDQGV UDQ GRZQVWDLUV and perched on the ledge of the bay window like a hawk scouting prey. It was a white station wagon with green, rust-patched doors, and it slowed to a stop in front of the grayish house across the street—the Putnams’ house. 7RQ\ÂśV PRWKHU RSHQHG KHU GRRU DQG JRW RXW RI WKH FDU 6KH VODPPHG LW VKXW and I could see Tony standing at the front door, his space helmet tilted back on his head. His mother fumbled with her keys as Tony watched her and rocked on his heels. I gawked until my mother called me for dinner. “Tony Putnam’s mom just got home,â€? I informed my parents. “Tony?â€? my father asked. My mother answered for me, cocking her head in the direction of the house across the street as she placed the ham—still steaming in its roaster SDQ²RQ WKH WDEOH DQG VOLG RII KHU RYHQ PLWWV 6KH JDYH KHU KXVEDQG D NQLIH sharp look, one that stabbed her intended message deep into his thoughts— you know about the Putnams, so drop it quickly. “Margaret’s son. You know that, Brian.â€? My father nodded and leaned back in his chair, and I tapped his knee ZLWK P\ IRUHÂżQJHU Âł7KH WZLQV VD\ WKDW KHÂśV DQ DOLHQ ´ Âł$Q DOLHQ ,V WKDW VR" :HÂśG EHWWHU FDOO 1$6$ WKHQ ´ 0\ IDWKHU SXVKHG his chair out and reached toward the phone, mounted on the kitchen wall. “Brian!â€? my mother chided. Her eyes were bloodshot; her cheeks, red. “None of that silliness at the dinner table.â€? +H VQDSSHG KLV ÂżQJHUV DQG SXVKHG KLV FKDLU LQ +LV ÂżQJHUV VWHHSOHG together over his plate, and he frowned, drawing down his long, horse-like face as his eyes met mine. “Now listen here. Your mother is absolutely right. There’s no such thing as aliens, so Tony Putnam can’t possibly be one. If you need to prove this to your friends, you can take my space books into school. 6KRZ WKHP WKH DUWLFOHV 6KRZ WKHP WKDW WKH\ GRQÂśW VD\ D WKLQJ DERXW DOLHQV okay?â€? I nodded. “They also talk about how Tony doesn’t have a daddy.â€? 0\ PRWKHU UHWXUQHG WR WKH WDEOH DQG SXOOHG RXW KHU VHDW 6KH exchanged a glance with my father. They both turned ghost pale as if a spectre, a poltergeist they had managed to dodge for the last few months, sat between them and was to materialize, there in the dining room. My parents gazed at each other and my father’s eyes seemed very blue, that same sort 46

of faraway blue that the sky seems to be. My mother’s were a terrestrial brown, and ultimately her voice grounded us back into the dining room. Reality penetrated the unearthly atmosphere. My mother simply said, “I mailed the rest of your boxes, Brian.â€? Âł7KDQNV (OOHQ ,WÂśV JRLQJ WR EH JUHDW )ORULGD 1$6$ :HÂśOO DOO EH down there. And Jim got me that job.â€? Âł2K \HV LQ D EXGJHW RIÂżFH PLOHV IURP WKH ODXQFK VLWH 7HOO PH KRZ that’s different from what you’re already doing.â€? Âł,W MXVW LV ´ KH VDLG KLV YRLFH Ă€DW Âł,WÂśV VWLOO D JRYHUQPHQW MRE -LP VWLOO got me in.â€? I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Why have we been mailing all of \RXU WKLQJV WR 8QFOH -LP"´ My mother hushed my father with a gesture like a conductor cutting off a choir. “Your father can’t make me understand it. I don’t think he’d be able to explain it to you.â€? The phone rang, and my father answered. “Jim?â€? My mother stabbed her ham; my father discussed details—yes, the SODQH ZDV ODQGLQJ LQ 2UODQGR LQ WKH PRUQLQJ \HV LW ZDV D UHG H\H Ă€LJKW \HV \HV (OOHQ ZDV DOO ULJKW GULYLQJ KLP <HV -LP RI FRXUVH²WKH *DOD[LH ZDV D JRRG FDU LW FRXOG KDQGOH WKH WULS WR WKH DLUSRUW DQG (OOHQ FRXOG GULYH LW DV ZHOO DV KH FRXOG 1R QR (OOHQ ZLOO EH EDFN E\ PRUQLQJ 1RWKLQJ WR ZRUU\ DERXW 0\ IDWKHU JXIIDZHG LQWR WKH SKRQH DW D MHVW IURP P\ 8QFOH Jim that only the two of them would ever know. “Right, Jim, I’ll give your apartment a ring as soon as I’m off the plane.â€? My mother and I ate the glazed ham; my father never touched his SODWH DQG DIWHU , KDG ÂżQLVKHG HDWLQJ P\ PRWKHU VFUDSHG KLV IRRG LQWR WKH garbage. The sun set, and twilight fell. I watched Tony Putnam and his mother play catch in the brightness of their porch light. I sat in the ledge of the bay window, pretending to read The Viking Symbol Mystery, a Hardy Boys novel that I’d pilfered from my father’s collection; he kept them on the same shelves as his space books. My parents whispered to each other in the kitchen as my mother washed the dinner dishes and my father dried them— WKHLU QLJKWO\ ULWXDO 2QO\ RQFH GLG P\ PRWKHU UDLVH KHU YRLFH Âł,ÂśYH EHHQ working at that damn bakery for three weeks now. I used to enjoy baking. 47

1RZ , KDYH WR GR WKLV VR LQ FDVH \RXU HVFDSDGH PLVÂżUHV , KDWH LW %ULDQ ´ 6KH VSODVKHG KHU KDQGV LQ WKH GLVKZDWHU Âł1RZ ZKHQ D ZRPDQ FRPHV LQ WR order a cake for her husband’s birthday—â€? Âł(OOHQ ´ P\ IDWKHU VDLG “I want to tell her that he probably doesn’t deserve it.â€? Âł(OOHQ ´ KH UHSHDWHG “Right, you’re right, of course,â€? my mother groaned. “Maybe that husband lives on this damn planet. Maybe that husband actually tells his child where he’s going to be the next morning.â€? They mumbled to each other again; my mother frequently sighed in exasperation. I traced the words on the page of The Viking Symbol Mystery with my thumbnail, but I never did learn how Frank and Joe Hardy solved the mystery. I didn’t know what the mystery even was because, across the street, Tony Putnam beamed, his space helmet a shining silver beacon, as he tossed the baseball back and forth with his mother on their front yard. 6XUHO\ WKLV ZRXOG TXLHW &OXUD 7RQ\ 3XWQDP ZDV MXVW D ER\²KH SOD\HG catch like any other boy, lived in a house with a bright white porch light like any other boy, had a mother like any other boy, and he smiled like any other boy. Nothing alien about Tony Putnam, nosiree. I imagined telling Clura DERXW WKLV DOWKRXJK WKDW ZRXOG UHTXLUH WHOOLQJ &OXUD WKDW 7RQ\ 3XWQDP OLYHG DFURVV WKH VWUHHW IURP P\ IDPLO\ 7KH WZLQV ZRXOG MXPS WR WKHLU IHHW and walk in circles, their auburn-topped heads pondering Tony Putnam, and they would conclude that “He’s an alien.â€? “He’s too weird to be a boy,â€? but then I would say, “Watch this.â€? I would go over to where Tony Putnam stood at the Dome. I would have a baseball and two mitts, and I would give him one so that we could play catch. Then we would throw the ball back and forth, the sun glinting off his helmet like a beacon, and the twins would DUJXH VD\LQJ Âł, DOZD\V NQHZ KH ZDV QRUPDO ´ Âł:HOO , NQHZ LW ÂżUVW ´ I laid the book, still opened, on the window ledge and jogged to the kitchen to share my insight with my parents. I felt as if I were watching the scene in Pinocchio where the fairy turns the wooden puppet into a real boy, only it was Tony Putnam, the alien, who had become an actual child. I stopped in the door to the kitchen and saw my father holding my mother close against him, his hands on the small of her back. He spoke in a voice above a whisper, one that revealed a latent secrecy, my father’s plans, which I was not meant to hear. 48

I realized then that the world contained more than children discussing aliens and the kid across the street. The world was full of children, yes, but there were adults, too! “Did you ever think of our child?â€? my mother questioned. “Did you ever think of us, here, without you?â€? And I heard my father half-mumble into my mother’s ear: that he must go to Florida and be a part of this. After all, hadn’t she heard what .HQQHG\ KDG VDLG RQ WKH UDGLR" ,W ZDV WRR ODWH 6KHÂśG VWDUWHG WKH MRE DW the bakery to tide us over, his plane ticket was booked, he’d already made DUUDQJHPHQWV WR OLYH ZLWK -LP KH KDG WR JLYH XS 3HPEHUWRQ 6WUHHW DQG (DVWEURRN +H WROG KHU WKDW KH ZRXOG VHQG IRU XV DV VRRQ DV KH FRXOG +H DOUHDG\ KDG D JRRG MRE OLQHG XS DQG KH ZRXOG ÂżQG D QLFH SODFH :HÂśG DOO OLYH in Florida where the sun shines and the rockets blast into space. “They’ll think you’re another Jay Putnam, Brian,â€? my mother cautioned. “Just like Tony’s father, a Beatnik, a hippie, a bum.â€? My father said that he had nothing but respect for Jay, nothing but UHVSHFW +HÂśG FOHDUHG LW ZLWK KLV ROG ODG\ EHIRUH KH OHIW IRU 'HQYHU DQG 6DQ Francisco, and that was all that my father was trying to do. My mother dried her hands on her apron and moved away from him. “You made your decision, Brian,â€? she said. “All you ever asked me to do was drive you to the damn airport.â€? I went upstairs and got ready for bed without being told to. For a ZKLOH , ZDWFKHG 3HPEHUWRQ 6WUHHW IURP P\ ZLQGRZ 2XU )RUG *DOD[LH VDW PRQVWURXV DQG DTXDPDULQH LQ WKH GULYHZD\ 6HYHUDO FDUV FUXLVHG RYHU WKH cracked macadam, hugging the gray curb except when they veered over to avoid the Putnams’ station wagon, the only vehicle parked out on the street. I closed the drapes, turned off the light, and went to bed. I was not awake when my father opened my bedroom door and whispered a “Goodbye, Kidâ€? and promised to call each night, or when my PRWKHU HDVHG WKH *DOD[LH RXW RI WKH GULYHZD\ 6KH UHWXUQHG KRXUV ODWHU DV , VOHSW 6KH ZKLOHG WKH QLJKW DZD\ ZLWK PXQGDQH WDVNV²VZHHSLQJ KDXOLQJ WKH trash bins to the curb. When I went downstairs the next morning, she sat at the table with a mug of coffee and the last of my father’s space books in front of her. The steam wafting from the cup miraged over her face, dissipated WKH SXUSOH FLUFOHV RI ZHDULQHVV EHQHDWK KHU H\HV 2Q WKH ODVW VSDFH ERRN D VPDOO SLHFH RI SDSHU UHDG Âł6KRZ WKHVH WR \RXU IULHQGV DW VFKRRO 1R DOLHQV², 49

promise. You’ll hear from me soon. Love, Dad.â€? I held the album to my chest ZKLOH P\ PRWKHU JD]HG EODQNO\ DW PH 6KH DVNHG LI , VOHSW ZHOO , QRGGHG 6KH SXVKHG WKH QHZVSDSHU WR PH IURP DFURVV WKH WDEOH 7KH KHDGOLQH RQ WKH Eastbrook Gazette UHDG Âł.HQQHG\ $GGUHVVHV 5LFH 8QLYHUVLW\ 0DQ RQ WKH 0RRQ EHIRUH WKH 'HFDGH (QGV ´ , ZHQW WR WKH NLWFKHQ WR JHW WKH VFLVVRUV DQG the tape out of the family supply drawer. ,W UDLQHG IUHTXHQWO\ LQ WKH VHYHUDO ZHHNV DIWHU P\ IDWKHU OHIW DQG WKH 6HSWHPEHU RI .HQQHG\ÂśV PHPRUDEOH VSHHFK ZDQHG LQWR D ORQJ GDPS 2FWREHU , FRXQWHG the passing of the days with my father’s phone calls; he kept his promise, though some nights he spoke for a few minutes and others for hours. Mother SDLG WKH ELOOV IRU WKH ÂżUVW PRQWK DQG FULHG 0\ IDWKHU VHQW FKHFNV IROGHG LQ D sheet of teletype paper stuffed in an envelope, never letters. Just checks. The UDLQ FDPH DV LW KDG LQ 6HSWHPEHU DQG WKH OHDYHV IHOO OLNH DFFRPSDQLPHQW to the storms. Tears streaked my mother’s face after the evening calls, like the rivulets winding down the glass panes of the living room bay window. I watched the street, watched the Ford Galaxie, which never brought my father back. 7KH JURXQGVNHHSHUV DW %HUJHU (OHPHQWDU\ 6FKRRO NHSW RXW RI WKH weather and, when it was dry enough, took their time raking the slicked, GDQJHURXV OHDYHV 2XU KRPHURRP WHDFKHUV ZHUH VWLOO IRUFHG WR ZDWFK XV during indoor recess. Mr. Pasternak unloaded checker and chess boards from the bookshelves kept beside the coat closets in the back of the classroom. We GLYHG LQWR WKH JDPHV ÂżJKWLQJ RYHU ZKR ZRXOG JHW WKH QLFHVW ERDUGV DQG WKH unbroken pieces, over who would have to play chess instead of checkers. Clura demanded chess pieces, wanted me to play against them. I obliged and noted that Tony Putnam had not joined the struggle for a board; he sat in WKH EDFN RI WKH URRP E\ KLPVHOI DQG KH SOD\HG 0HPRU\ ZLWK D GHFN RI 2OG Maid cards. He grumbled to himself and shrugged his shoulders; every few minutes his head jerked toward the coat closet in the back of the classroom, where his space helmet hung from a hook. As Clura set up the board, I saw 7RQ\ Ă€LS RYHU RQH FDUG WKHQ DQRWKHU DQG KLV KDQGV GDUWHG WR WKH GHVNWRS WR TXLFNO\ UHPRYH WKHP $SSDUHQWO\ D PDWFK RQ WKH ÂżUVW DWWHPSW 7KH WZLQV PDGH VKRUW ZRUN RI PH LQ RXU ÂżUVW JDPH Âł<RX FDQÂśW KRSH WR lose your queen and still win.â€? “If you lose your queen, you’re done for.â€? 50

“You just got by on luck,â€? I said. “Let’s play another game.â€? We began the second round of chess. Clura talked about that afternoon’s round of show-and-tell. They had wanted to bring in their father, DQ (QJOLVK WHDFKHU DW (DVWEURRN +LJK EXW KH ZDV UHYLHZLQJ PDWHULDO ZLWK his students for a test the next day. Instead, their mother would be coming in for show-and-tell. The twins chattered about “Mumsy,â€? as they called her; Mumsy was going to bring cinnamon buns for the entire class. The twins wondered what the other two show-and-tell students—Tony Putnam and I—planned to show the class. I mentioned that I’d brought my father’s space book to show everybody what he did in his free time. If anybody, Clura included, scrutinized the taping of the articles against the cardstock pages, I would have been ratted out: my tape job on the article about Kennedy’s DGGUHVV DW 5LFH 8QLYHUVLW\ ZDV VPHDUHG ZLWK ÂżQJHUSULQWV DQG VPXGJHV RI newspaper ink, whereas my father’s were archived and expertly handled, with only the yellowing of the paper to dictate the articles’ ages. I didn’t tell the twins that I couldn’t have asked my father to tape the article about Kennedy’s address, let alone to come in for show-and-tell, seeing as he was VRPHZKHUH LQ )ORULGD ZRUNLQJ ZLWK P\ 8QFOH -LP DQG PDQDJLQJ DFFRXQWV IRU VRPH VSDFH UHODWHG JRYHUQPHQW RIÂżFH , KDG QRW HYHQ WKRXJKW WR DVN P\ mother to come in for show-and-tell, and as I wondered about my father down there in the sunshine, probably smelling the exhaust of all those rockets as they blasted into the sky, the twins took my queen a second time. Checkmate quickly followed. The bell rang and Mr. Pasternak collected the games and returned them to the shelves. He shepherded us back into our seats, then sat on WKH HGJH RI KLV GHVN DQG ODFHG KLV ÂżQJHUV WRJHWKHU RYHU WKH SDXQFK RI KLV stomach. “As you all know, today we’re beginning our second round of show-and-tell.â€? He reminded the class of today’s four presenters: Claire and /DXUD ZKRÂśG UHFHLYHG VSHFLDO SHUPLVVLRQ WR ZRUN WRJHWKHU 7RQ\ 3XWQDP and me. We were assigned to either bring in a parent to speak about a job or interest, or we were supposed to bring in a visual aid and talk about our parent’s career or hobbies on their behalf. A woman knocked on the glass window in the door, and Mr. Pasternak slipped from the lip of his desk. He let the woman in. “It looks like we’ll begin with Claire and Laura.â€? The twins hopped from their seats and joined Mumsy at the front RI WKH URRP 6WDQGLQJ EHVLGH KHU &OXUD ORRNHG OLNH GROO VL]HG FORQHV DOO 51

three shared identical auburn hair and the same pale freckles and delicate skin, and when Mumsy—who introduced herself to the class as “Amyâ€?— passed a Tupperware container of cinnamon buns around the room, she GHPRQVWUDWHG WKH VDPH Ă€RZLQJ ZLOORZ\ JUDFH WKDW KHU GDXJKWHUV SRVVHVVHG Amy discussed baking—that was her hobby—and about how cinnamon buns were the family favorite. We applauded, and Clura’s mother offered us each DQRWKHU FLQQDPRQ EXQ 2QO\ 7RQ\ 3XWQDP UHIXVHG RQH The twins’ mother left, and Mr. Pasternak called Tony to the front of the room. “I brought my dad,â€? Tony said, running his thumbs along the edges of a black picture frame. Clura glanced wide-eyed at me, and I sunk into my seat. “Well, I sorta brought my father,â€? Tony corrected. “You see—â€? Mr. Pasternak sat in his desk chair and then drummed the top of his desk. “How did you ‘sorta bring’ your father, Tony?â€? “All I have of him is this picture. My mom took it a long time ago. It was right before he left.â€? Mr. Pasternak propped his elbows on his desk and held his chin in his hands. “What can you tell us about him, Tony?â€? I sighed and wondered if I could tell anybody about my father. He was an accountant, yes. But what else? A note appeared on my desk, and one of the twins batted her eyelashes at me. I read the note: “He’s an alein alien!â€? The piece of paper was signed “Claire.â€? I balled it up and threw it inside my desk. Tony passed the photograph around the room and told us about his father. From overhearing my parents, I knew that he was called Jay Putnam, DQG 7RQ\ ÂżOOHG LQ WKH JDSV -D\ 3XWQDP ZDV D SRHW ZKRÂśG OHIW (DVWEURRN WR PLQJOH ZLWK WKH JUHDW $PHULFDQ ZULWHUV ZKR WKULYHG LQ 'HQYHU DQG 6DQ Francisco, and he didn’t expect to make a mint off of his writing. He expected WR PDNH SRHWU\ DQG ÂżQG XVHG ERRNVWRUHV DQG FUXPP\ GLYH EDUV²ZKDW , would later learn to describe as the brilliant, grimy, bohemian underbelly of our country. Tony phrased it with innocence: “My mommy reads his letters to me. He writes about places with bright lights—neon lights. People give him rides from one place to the next. He writes about beautiful women. And he has a dog named Anselmo. I think he drinks a lot of tea; he sure seems WR ZULWH DERXW WHD D ORW ´ -D\ 3XWQDP ZDQWHG WR ÂżQG WKHVH SODFHV DQG ZULWH about their people, Tony said. “And I found one of his old poems. Part of it, anyway.â€? 52

“Do you have it with you?â€? 7RQ\ VWXFN KLV KDQG LQ KLV SRFNHW DQG ÂżVKHG DURXQG EHIRUH SXOOLQJ out a crumpled, yellow square of paper, maybe the size of his palm. “Yup!â€? Tony replied. “My dad wrote this: 6RPHZKHUH , VHDUFK IRU +LP I do not know what He is, but He is colorful, silent. His quiet emanates, glows; it radiates, but from where? Mr. Pasternak clapped, and the rest of us followed suit. Tony bowed DQG SHUIRUPHG D WZR ÂżQJHU VDOXWH WDSSLQJ KLV ÂżQJHUV DJDLQVW WKH EULP RI KLV space helmet. When Tony returned to his seat, I was left holding the portrait RI -D\ 3XWQDP *UHDV\ ÂżQJHUSULQWV VPHDUHG RYHU WKH JODVV SURWHFWLQJ KLV sepia-toned face. I made my way to the front of the room with my father’s space book and handed off the picture to Tony. I stood in front of the class as Mr. Pasternak introduced me. I closed my eyes, hoping to see a glimpse of my father. Instead, Jay Putnam was there, stubble-faced and wearing a dirty button-down shirt, a leather bomber’s jacket, and a herringbone cap. I introduced my father’s space book to the class and said that my IDWKHU FRXOGQÂśW FRPH EHFDXVH RI ZRUN QRW HQWLUHO\ D OLH MXVW D SURWHFWLYH ÂżE VLQFH KH ZDV LQ )ORULGD DQG QRW 1HXEDXHU DQG 0HLQKROGÂśV DFFRXQWLQJ ÂżUP , Ă€LSSHG WKURXJK VRPH RI WKH DUWLFOHV UHDG DORXG VHYHUDO KHDGOLQHV , WULHG WR UHPHPEHU P\ IDWKHU DQG KLV Ă€DWWRS KDLUFXW WULHG WR VHH KLP DQG EORFN the image of Jay Putnam. I don’t recall exactly what I said, except that Mr. Pasternak said I provided a great segue to our next unit—the space unit—in which all of our spelling words, math problems, and other lessons would be outer-space-themed. Then Mr. Pasternak told us about the planets. We spent the rest of the afternoon making a model solar system, decorating VW\URIRDP EDOOV DV WKH 6XQ WKH SODQHWV WKH DVWHURLG EHOW DQG WKHQ KDQJLQJ those from the ceiling with chains made out of paperclips. 0RWKHU GLGQÂśW DOZD\V OHW PH VSHDN WR P\ IDWKHU ZKHQ KH FDOOHG 6RPHWLPHV she would, and his voice was frenetic, stumbling over his words, attempting 53

to convey too much too quickly. He spoke only about the space race, about DFFRXQWV DQG QXPEHUV VFLHQFH DQG SURJUHVV 2WKHU SHRSOH ODXJKHG LQ WKH EDFNJURXQG SHUKDSV RQH RI WKHP ZDV 8QFOH -LP +H SURPLVHG WR PDLO articles from the newspapers down in Florida, but the articles never arrived. (YHQWXDOO\ , ZRXOG KDQG WKH SKRQH EDFN WR P\ PRWKHU Âł%ULDQ ´ VKH FKDVWLVHG him when she took the phone back, “ask about school. Ask about classes. $VN DERXW WKH WHDFKHUV DQG WKH RWKHU VWXGHQWV ´ 6KH VODPPHG WKH UHFHLYHU on its hook. “I can smell the highballs through the phone,â€? she muttered. The money continued arriving in the nondescript envelopes. Mother SLFNHG XS DGGLWLRQDO KRXUV DW WKH EDNHU\ DQG ZKHQ VKH ÂżQDOO\ JRW KRPH ODWH DW QLJKW VKH VPHOOHG RI EUHDG \HDVW DQG VXJDU DQG IUXLW 6KH KHOSHG PH study for my classes. When my father called, she told him to stay on the line RQO\ LI KH JDYH D GDPQ DERXW WKH UHVW RI XV EDFN KHUH LQ (DVWEURRN My father’s phone calls became more infrequent until we received more checks than news from my father. My mother, exhaustedly helping me through math problems one evening, cradled her face in her hands. The textbook and loose papers sprawled over the tabletop. We used napkins for scratch paper. “And here, my mother told me your father seemed like VXFK D JURXQGHG JX\ ´ 6KH VREEHG , GLG DULWKPHWLF RQ WKH EDFN RI D QDSNLQ until she took it from me and wiped away her tears, smudging her face with graphite solutions. I spent afternoons home alone, sitting on the ledge of the bay window, doing my homework and spying on Tony Putnam across the street. I studied our spelling words and repeated them to myself—star, moon, sun, planet, galaxy, alien, earth, orbit 2XU )RUG *DOD[LH ZDV GRFNHG LQ D EDNHU\ SDUNLQJ ORW IDU away. Tony Putnam dragged cardboard boxes from the inside of his house to his front yard. He had a Kenmore refrigerator box and two RCA black-andwhite television boxes. I focused on my homework, word problems for math DERXW D EXJ H\HG DOLHQ QDPHG Âł7KRPDV ´ ,Q WKH ÂżUVW RQH KH ZDV JDWKHULQJ moon rocks to help American scientists. I counted the rocks and wrote the answer. In the next, he was collecting fuel tanks so that he could return home WR KLV IDPLO\ , H[DPLQHG KLV OLWWOH 8)2 WKH $PHULFDQ Ă€DJ ZDV HPEOD]RQHG RQ WKH VLGH EHQHDWK WKH OHWWHUV 86$ , GURSSHG WKH KRPHZRUN VKHHW RQ WKH ledge and went out the front door. 54

2XWVLGH , VKLHOGHG P\ H\HV IURP WKH VXQ ZLWK P\ KDQG DQG ZDWFKHG 7RQ\ 3XWQDP DW ZRUN (YHU\ IHZ PLQXWHV KH VWRSSHG SXW KLV ÂżVWV RQ KLV hips, and chortled to himself. He talked to nobody while he built something out of the boxes. He labeled the side of the refrigerator box The Proud Anselmo and then, using a roll of duct tape, adhered the two RCA boxes to the longer one, a television box on each side. The open ends of the boxes were facing away from the cardboard automaton to emulate thrusters. I crossed the street and stepped onto the Putnams’ front yard. Tony mumbled and shrugged while adjusting the various boxes. “Hey,â€? I said. 7RQ\ LJQRUHG PH +H VSRNH WR KLPVHOI LQ PXIĂ€HG WRQHV DQG ULSSHG strips of tape from the roll and applied them liberally to the form of The Proud Anselmo. I stood idly with my hands in my pockets as he covered the body of The Proud Anselmo with strips of tape. “Who are you talking to?â€? I asked. Tony laughed, grumbled to himself. “They always think I’m talking to somebody. Can’t they see there’s nobody here?â€? Âł6R \RXÂśUH WDONLQJ WR QRERG\"´ , EHJDQ WR ZDON DZD\ EXW WXUQHG around and scrutinized the taped-together boxes. “What are you making?â€? I asked, uncertain if Tony would actually answer me. “The Proud Anselmo,â€? he answered. “It’s a spaceship.â€? “Cool,â€? I said. I kicked the grass with the toe of my shoe. “Why’d you give it that name?â€? “My dad adopted a dog in Denver for a few weeks. He told me about it in a letter. He called his dog ‘Anselmo,’ and he said it was a very proud GRJ ´ 7RQ\ VKUXJJHG Âł6RXQGHG OLNH D JRRG QDPH The Proud Anselmo. It’s JRLQJ WR EH P\ Ă€DJVKLS %HVW LQ P\ Ă€HHW ´ Âł<RX ZDQW WR PDNH D Ă€HHW" 7KDWÂśV SUHWW\ FRRO ´ “You think that’s cool? Look inside The Proud Anselmo 6KHÂśV JRW it all. And she’s a ‘she,’ too‌ships are always a ‘she.’ At least that’s how it seems when people talk about these things.â€? I stepped closer to the cardboard spaceship and shoved my hands into my pockets. Âł2K ZDLW ´ 7RQ\ VDLG DQG KH OHDQHG LQWR WKH .HQPRUH UHIULJHUDWRU box. His feet stuck out in the air. When he dropped back onto the ground, 55

he produced a plastic Rubbermaid stepstool. “You can use this to get in. Just step up‌and hop on in.â€? Tony watched me ascend the plastic stairs and lower myself into the refrigerator box. A red steering wheel was taped into the cardboard the nose of The Proud Anselmo. Dials and gauges were drawn by hand in permanent ink. I UDQ P\ ÂżQJHUV RYHU WKH FRQWUROV²D IXHO JDXJH DQ RGRPHWHU D VSHHGRPHWHU PXFK OLNH D FDUÂśV GDVKERDUG , QRWLFHG DQG RWKHU GLDOV ODEHOHG $/7,78'( DQG $,5 35(6685( $ EUDNH DQG D JDV SHGDO ZHUH DOVR GUDZQ RQWR WKH cardboard interior. A moment later, Tony joined me inside. The light UHĂ€HFWHG IURP WKH FRODQGHU RQ KLV KHDG EOLQGHG PH “Isn’t she great?â€? he asked. “A real piece of work,â€? I said. “What do you want to do with her?â€? Âł)O\ KHU DURXQG ´ 7RQ\ VDLG Âł'R \RX ZDQW WR EH P\ ÂżUVW PDWH"´ “Is that hard?â€? “No. Being the captain is the hard part. The Proud Anselmo is a solid, EXW IXVV\ VKLS $QG , KDYH WR Ă€\ KHU ´ “Where will we go?â€? Âł:HOO ÂżUVW \RX QHHG WR JHW D VSDFH KHOPHW ´ , FURVVHG P\ DUPV DQG VLJKHG ZDLWLQJ IRU 7RQ\ WR FRQWLQXH Âł%XW ZHÂśOO Ă€\ WR 'HQYHU WKHQ WR 6DQ )UDQFLVFR 6LQFH ,ÂśOO EH WKH FDSWDLQ SHRSOH ZLOO FDOO PH Âľ&DSWDLQ Âś DQG \RX can be called ‘Lieutenant.’â€? I paced the length of The Proud Anselmo’s cabin. “Can we go to Florida after that?â€? “Why would we do that?â€? “Well‌,â€? I stammered. “I was, uh, thinking that we could show all of the space people how great The Proud Anselmo is.â€? Tony grinned. “Your dad’s down there, isn’t he.â€? It was not a question. Tony tapped his foot and I said nothing, and then he added Florida to the Ă€LJKW LWLQHUDU\ Tony Putnam was at home the school day that we planned the launch of The Proud Anselmo; he asked me to carry a note to school and give it to Mr. 3DVWHUQDN ZKHQ KH WRRN DWWHQGDQFH ÂżUVW WKLQJ LQ WKH PRUQLQJ , GURSSHG the note on Mr. Pasternak’s desk and walked through the rows of student seats before Clura noticed my secret delivery to Mr. Pasternak’s desk. 56

During recess Clura asked me about my dad’s space books. “You should bring more of them in.â€? “Those were really neat.â€? The twins led me in a hike around the playground. We tugged at each other’s thin, autumn scarves and adjusted the zippers on our jackets. They stepped gracefully, like leaves bending on the wind, and clasped their hands behind their backs. 7KHLU GUHVVHV Ă€XWWHUHG LQ WKH EUHH]H Âł%XW \RX VKRXOG EULQJ RQH WKDW WDONV about aliens.â€? “I bet there’s even one about Tony Putnam.â€? “I can’t bring any more in.â€? “Why not?â€? asked one. “That’s really mean of your dad if he doesn’t let you,â€? the other added. “It’s just, it’s the only one he left—â€? I stopped and exhaled, a rush of breath escaping me. The twins pirouetted and examined me. They quirked their eyebrows, and their pale foreheads wrinkled as if they were examining an unknown specimen. “He left the others at work,â€? I tried. The twins smirked. “You have a secret!â€? “Tell us! Tell us!â€? “It’s just that he left—â€? I said. My face felt warm, and I turned and walked the other way. “It’s not important.â€? They caught up with me. “You’re blushing!â€? they yelled together. “Where did your dad take the space books?â€? “I bet he has ones with pictures of aliens!â€? , ORRNHG DW HDFK RI WKH WZLQV Âł7KH VSDFH ERRNV DUHQÂśW LQ (DVWEURRN ´ I whispered. “They’re in Florida.â€? “That’s silly. They don’t belong in Florida.â€? “Why are they in Florida?â€? “My father.â€? The twins gasped and stepped back. “You don’t have a father,â€? one of the twins said. “You’re like Tony Putnam.â€? I insisted that it was different, pled with them to understand. I stepped closer; they shied back. The bell rang, and the sisters ran toward the school. I stood there until Mr. Pasternak called my name. Clura watched me in class and cried. They slipped a note on my desk when Mr. Pasternak began the math lesson. “Don’t become an alein alien!â€? Both the twins’ names appeared at the bottom. I slouched in my chair. The 57

twins watched me and dabbed at their eyes, but it was too late. Their crying KDG DOUHDG\ SXVKHG PH IDU RII FRXUVH DQG ÂżQLVKHG WKH WUDQVIRUPDWLRQ Tony Putnam wasn’t there. His space helmet wasn’t hanging in the coat closet. Now, I was alien to them all. When I got home from school, Tony Putnam, his space helmet slipped to the VLGH VR LW HFOLSVHG KLV OHIW HDU VDW RQ WKH IURQW VWRRS 2XU EUHDWK SXIIHG ZKLWH LQWR WKH FRROLQJ DXWXPQ DLU Âł6R ´ KH VDLG “Hi, Tony.â€? He handed me a stack of envelopes. “I got the mail out of your box for you and your mom. Looks like there’s something from your dad.â€? He had placed the envelope from Florida on the top, our address scrawled in blocky letters. “Maybe he sent you something?â€? “It’s nothing,â€? I told Tony. “It’s never anything. Just money.â€? Tony chewed on his lip. He glanced up at me. “I was going to write you a letter,â€? he announced while rubbing his hands together. “To tell you this. But he’s coming back, you know. He always does.â€? I leaned in toward Tony. “My father?â€? Tony rolled his eyes. “No, my IDWKHU +HÂśV ÂżQDOO\ FRPLQJ EDFN IURP 6DQ )UDQFLVFR , ZDV ÂľKRPH VLFNÂś IURP VFKRRO WR FOHDQ WKH KRXVH ZKLOH P\ mom worked today.â€? He pushed himself from the stoop. “We don’t need to go out in The Proud Anselmo. I wanted to tell you.â€? He hugged me, and I dropped the letters to the concrete stoop. Tony Putnam smiled and patted my shoulder; he skipped across the street. I imagined his mouth moving as he talked to himself, and I imagined myself turning around and running after him. I wanted to remind him that we had a deal—we were both going to use The Proud Anselmo WR ÂżQG RXU IDWKHUV 7RQ\ÂśV VSDFH KHOPHW UHĂ€HFWHG WKH VXQOLJKW DQG ERXQFHG DWRS KLV KHDG DV he jounced back to his yard. My scalp felt warm, like the sun was baking it through my hair. I suspected that Tony never had that problem. That night my mother and I ate roast beef sandwiches on slices of rye that she’d brought from the bakery. We waited for the phone to ring, EXW LW ZDV VLOHQW , WROG P\ PRWKHU DERXW KRZ 7RQ\ DQG , SODQQHG WR Ă€\ The Proud Anselmo, but we probably wouldn’t need to do that now. Tony’s IDWKHU ZDV FRPLQJ EDFN , WROG KHU 6KH VDLG Âł%H KDSS\ IRU 7RQ\ ´ :H DWH RXU 58

VDQGZLFKHV DQG DV VKH VWDUHG DW WKH SKRQH , ZDWFKHG KHU ÂżQJHUQDLOV FODFN against the tablecloth. I noticed that it was red, and I excused myself from the table. I was scarcely aware of leaving the house with a baseball mitt tucked under my arm and closing the front door behind me. The candescence of the yellow-orange streetlights illumined the cracks in the asphalt as the soles of my shoes scuffed against the pavement. I knocked on the door of the Putnams’ house and thrust my hands into my pockets. Tony answered the door and pulled off his space helmet. “Hey,â€? he said. “I’m sorry about your dad.â€? My mother wanted me to tell Tony that I was happy for him. Instead, I asked, “Do you want to play catch?â€? It seemed like the only normal thing to do. +H JULQQHG Âł6XUH WKLQJ ´ +H GRQQHG WKH KHOPHW DQG D ZKLWH EHDP refracted from its metal surface. :H WRVVHG D EDVHEDOO EDFN DQG IRUWK 2XU PRWKHUV ZDWFKHG HDFK IURP her own porch. Tony lobbed the ball in my direction, and I returned it with a snap of my wrist. The small ball glided back and forth between our mitts, as LI LQ VORZ PRWLRQ DFURVV WKH JHQWOH JORZ RI WKH VWUHHWOLJKWV 7KH EDOO Ă€HZ OLNH a thought, like a slow star, streaking over all of us until the mothers called us LQVLGH 7KH\ H[WLQJXLVKHG WKHLU SRUFK OLJKWV ZLWK WKH Ă€LFN RI D VZLWFK I couldn’t sleep that night after playing catch, imagining Jay Putnam returning to his wife and son. I saw Tony’s father, with his herringbone cap and several days of unshaved stubble, standing in the illumination of the porch light, his wife in his arms and his lips pressed against hers. Young Tony, the space helmet crowning his head, stood watching his mythical father with starstruck reverence. My thoughts orbited around this reunion, and I threw off my blankets. I spied on the Putnams’ house from my window, but I saw the house was dark, slumbering as deeply as I should have been. Certain that my mother was asleep, I crept downstairs to the kitchen, SODQWLQJ HDFK VWHS ÂżUPO\ DQG VORZO\ OLNH WKH VQHDNLQJ FKDUDFWHUV LQ WKH 6XQGD\ IXQQLHV SDJHV ,I P\ PRWKHU ZRNH VKH ZRXOG VHQG PH VWUDLJKW EDFN WR bed with a speech about how she had to work in the morning, and I shouldn’t EH VQHDNLQJ DURXQG ODWH DW QLJKW DQ\ZD\ , ZRXOG QRW KDYH D ÂżJKWLQJ FKDQFH of explaining my actions. I remained silent so as to not wake her. 59

A stack of Eastbrook Gazettes had accumulated on the counter beside the sink. The scissors my father used to snip out the articles rested beside the stack. I grabbed their plastic handles and studied their shape in the dark, then dropped them onto the stack of papers. I looked away and opened the FDELQHW XQGHU WKH FRXQWHU ULÀLQJ WKURXJK P\ PRWKHUœV SRWV DQG SDQV , pushed aside a double boiler, a Bundt-cake pan, and a wooden rolling pin before laying my hand inside the colander. It was plastic, slotted, instead of pierced with small holes like Tony’s, but it would do. I slid it from the cabinet and clutched the handles on the side. I placed the colander on my head and VDW LQ IURQW RI WKH VWRYH WR JD]H LQWR P\ RZQ GLVWRUWHG UHÀHFWLRQ

60

SONNET ADDRESSED TO MYJessica MOTHER Plante Mother, as small child, I tugged violets from dirt; they like tiny purple bruises full of anticipation. I stood at the door you couldn’t open wide enough for me. 6PDOO EXW HDUQHVW ,œG ZDWFK \RX EOHQG LQWR \RXU KRXVHZRUN moving from room to room, now and again, the barn door of your chest falling open. Inside there was no heart, just a sculpture of a horse: cold and unsinging. Mother, in the dark, I was there. You thought I was the wind and its idiosyncratic tender caress. I polished and cradled you. My persistence brought that smooth shine to your face. I blew dust from alabaster, carried a piece of you inside my sweater to keep it warm, the dust I disturbed still settling between us.

61

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, KDYH DOZD\V EHHQ D PDNHU RI OLVWV , ÂżQG WKHP FDOPLQJ 5HDVVXULQJ 7KHUH is something very zen about pulling my mind away from the chaos for a moment and taming it with a list. “I know it’s hard,â€? I am saying to myself, “I know it’s a lot, but if I do just these eight numerically organized tasks today, it will all somehow look better tomorrow.â€? I have even been known, when no one is looking, to add some unexpectedly accomplished task to my list, VROHO\ IRU WKH JUDWLÂżFDWLRQ RI FURVVLQJ LW LPPHGLDWHO\ RII 7KHUH LV OLWWOH WKH world can throw at me that I cannot put on a list; there is little the world can throw at me that I cannot contain, control, or otherwise overcome. I like to believe this. 1. Short-term memory impairment is usually the most prominent early symptom of Alzheimer-type dementia. Perhaps ironically, I cannot recall many early instances of my grandfather’s forgetfulness. I know they must surely have been there, because I do UHPHPEHU WHDVLQJ KLP JHQWO\ DERXW LW :H DOO GLG 2QFH IRU his birthday, I bought my grandfather a blanket. It was a large, woven thing, big enough for him take his afternoon naps under and light enough to use \HDU URXQG 2Q WKH IURQW ZDV ZRYHQ LQ WKH FDSWLRQ Âł*HQXLQH 2OG 3HUVRQ Been There, Done That, Can’t Remember.â€? He laughed when he opened it and playfully swatted my arm with one of the blanket’s tassels in retaliation. 6WLOO KH XVHG WKDW EODQNHW QHDUO\ HYHU\ GD\ 7KH ÂżUVW WLPH , HYHU VXVSHFWHG WKDW SHUKDSV VRPHWKLQJ PRUH VLJQLÂżFDQW than aging was happening to my grandfather was sometime in junior high when my grandmother began picking me up from school. For years, the short time just before and just after school had belonged to my grandfather and me. We would meet at the breakfast table—bowl of Cheerios for me, bowl of Frosted Flakes with extra sugar for him. I was never allowed extra sugar on my cereal; I assumed this was a privilege one was granted with DJH DQG DV VXFK GLGQÂśW EHJUXGJH KLP IRU LW ,W ZDV P\ PRWKHU ZKR GLGQÂśW allow the sugar; my grandfather, I suspect, would have. And that, I think, is 62

the ultimate function of parents and grandparents: one to control and one WR LQGXOJH $ SUHVVXUH UHOHDVH YDOYH IRU DOO WKH UXOHV ZH PXVW REH\ $IWHU breakfast, my grandfather and I would head out for school in his ancient brown Mercury. It was a short drive—too short, I often thought, except when , ZDV FRPLQJ KRPH DJDLQ 6R WKH FDVVHWWH UHFRUGLQJ RI $EERW DQG &RVWHOOR comedy routines that my grandfather produced one morning took us several car trips to work our way through. It became a morning time favorite, and we slowly memorized that tape together. Aside from the classic “Who’s on ÂżUVW"´ WKHUH ZDV RQH RWKHU URXWLQH RQ WKH WDSH WKDW , UHZRXQG DQG OLVWHQHG WR many times on those early morning car trips. It involved a story about how older elephants, when they begin to decline with age, instinctively return to a certain spot to die. Costello’s punch line at the end was, “It’s the trip that kills ‘em!â€? When I joined the volleyball team in junior high, and practices lasted from 4:00 to 6:30 on every night but Wednesday, my after-school routine KDG WR FKDQJH $W ÂżUVW P\ JUDQGIDWKHU ZRXOG VKRZ XS DW P\ QRUPDO school dismissal time, a few times a week and I would have to send him home. Later, he started forgetting to come back at 6:30. Not always, mind you—just sometimes. From then on, it was my grandmother, more often than not, who I saw waiting for me after practice. I worried. But, because I could not break my pattern of believing my grandfather to be invincible, I assumed he simply could not break his pattern, held for so many elementary school years, after all, of being outside waiting for me at 3:30. And so I worried—but not much. 2. Most family members will realize that something is seriously wrong long before the person with dementia realizes it. 2QH FROG ZHW GD\ DIWHU YROOH\EDOO VHDVRQ KDG IDGHG LQWR EDVNHWEDOO DQG I was free to leave school with all the other non-athletes again, it was my grandfather once more who was waiting for me. But it was not a return to our normal routine. Ten minutes from home, we slammed into the back of a car that had stopped somewhere in front of us. I never looked up until I heard the squealing brakes and that was far too late to see much of anything H[FHSW WKH ZLQGVKLHOG DQG LWV UDSLG DSSURDFK ZKHQ P\ VHDW EHOW IDLOHG LW ZDV DIWHU DOO D UDWKHU ROG FDU DQG , ZHQW WXPEOLQJ IRUZDUG 0\ IRUHKHDG 63

left an impressive spiderweb of cracks along the windshield; my chin and the dashboard left matching jagged holes in each other. Here the age of the car worked to my advantage; had the dash been less old, less sun-worn, it PLJKW KDYH VWRRG ¿UP DQG EURNHQ P\ MDZ There was a lost look on my grandfather’s face as he fumbled through his wallet for all the necessary insurance information. When he got out to speak to the other driver, a faded yellow post-it note fell out of his shirt pocket and onto the soft brown fuzz of the seat next to me. There, written in his own handwriting, was his name, birth date, address, and home telephone number. Typical emergency information, nothing that wouldn’t be contained on a driver’s license. I wasn’t sure why he needed this extra copy, kept so much closer to hand. And then, with a sickening inner jolt not unlike the crash, I was sure; these were things he could no longer be certain of remembering. I stared at the yellow post-it note, sliced chin seeping red into the sleeve of my thick winter coat, and wondered which of them, the paper or the blood, was making me feel ill. 2Q WKH ZD\ KRPH , PDGH D SODQ , ZRXOGQœW WHOO DQ\RQH DERXW WKH yellow paper. I wouldn’t let them think the wreck was my grandfather’s fault, wouldn’t let on how much my chin hurt. Grandmother met us at the door when we got home and listened to my story with few questions. My mother was still at work, so I called to give her the news, striving for nonchalance, FHUWDLQ LQ D FRQ¿GHQW WKLUWHHQ \HDU ROG ZD\ WKDW , KDG KDQGOHG LW SHUIHFWO\ DQG QR RQH ZRXOG ZRUU\ 7KDW QLJKW DIWHU D WULS WR WKH KRVSLWDO DQG D EXWWHUÀ\ bandage for my torn chin, my mother told me that I’d sounded strange on the phone, almost happy. Manic. Later I learned that this is a thing called shock. 3. Observing the gradual decline of a loved one from a competent individual to an incompetent dependent can be a harrowing experience. 7KH QH[W IRXU \HDUV ZHUH D PLQH¿HOG WR ZKLFK QRQH RI XV KDG EHHQ JLYHQ a map. We all learned, individually, how to speak to my grandfather, how to read his moods and his confusion. After being removed from his home of so many years, my grandfather mistook our new house for a hospital, a retirement home. He would pack his suitcase; ask us when he could leave. 64

:KHQ KH FRXOG JR KRPH 6RPH GD\V ZH FRXOG H[SODLQ WR KLP WKDW KH was KRPH 6RPH GD\V ZH FRXOG QRW 2QFH KH EXWWRQHG KLV VKLUW ZURQJ DQG FRXOGQÂśW EH WROG WKDW WKLV ZDV DQ HUURU D WKLQJ WR EH Âż[HG +H PDGH XS WKLV HODERUDWH DQG EHPXVLQJ VWRU\ about a shopping trip with my grandmother to an outlet mall, one of those “imperfectâ€? clothing stores where everything is discounted because of some VOLJKW Ă€DZ 7KH\ ERXJKW VKLUWV WKDW GD\ ZLWK XQHYHQ QXPEHUV RI EXWWRQV and buttonholes. We let him wear his “imperfectâ€? shirt; you learn to pick your battles. There were days when he would ask questions and listen intently, nodding at all our answers. There were days when nothing made sense, and he knew WKDW QRWKLQJ PDGH VHQVH²DQG NQHZ DOVR WKDW QR RQH FRXOG Âż[ LW He didn’t ask questions on those days and we didn’t correct him when he made mistakes; those particular battles weren’t worth it for anyone. When he asked to see his mother—dead for more than twenty years—we told him she would visit soon. My mother and grandmother and myself, when I came KRPH IURP FROOHJH ZHUH DFWRUV LQ RXU RZQ SROLWH ÂżFWLRQ 0\ JUDQGIDWKHU was Costello’s elephant, lumbering ever further away on a trip we couldn’t take with him. 6RPHWLPHV RQ JRRG GD\V KH ZRXOG ÂżQG PH XSVWDLUV LQ P\ URRP and we would talk. He was sweet but insistent, a kind-hearted detective determined to ferret out the secret of the girl upstairs with a face so like his own. He knew he ought to know, and knew that he didn’t; he looked to me WR ÂżOO LQ WKH PLVVLQJ SLHFHV :K\ ZDV , KHUH" +RZ GLG ZH NQRZ HDFK RWKHU" 2K FROOHJH" :KDW ZDV , VWXG\LQJ" I loved those times, and felt guilty for it. When I was small, and came home with a good report card, my grandfather would pull out his own faded elementary school report cards, dotted mostly with C’s, and tell me that I was such a smart girl, that he was so proud. There in the white lamplight of my bedroom we engaged in historical re-enactment: I would tell him what I was doing in college, and he would be proud. “And...you’re my granddaughter?â€? he would say, in a tone of utter wonderment, a pleased smile on his face. In those moments, I was. Could be again. 2QH PRUQLQJ P\ JUDQGIDWKHU VWRSSHG PH LQ WKH VSDFH EHWZHHQ WKH living room and kitchen and, pointing to my grandmother seated in her 65

DUPFKDLU D IHZ IHHW DZD\ DVNHG Âł7KDWÂśV P\ ZLIH ULJKW"´ 6KH VWLOO EURXJKW him coffee every morning, much the way he had once brought me breakfast. 6KH QHYHU OHW JR RI WKLV URXWLQH /DWHU VKH WROG PH WKDW KH KDG QHYHU RQFH LQ RYHU ÂżIW\ \HDUV RI PDUULDJH HYHU IDLOHG WR VD\ WKDQN \RX²HYHQ ZKHQ KH QR longer understood whom he was thanking. I like to think that this is simply ZKR KH ZDV VRPHWKLQJ KLV LOOQHVV FRXOG QRW WDNH IURP KLP 2U IURP P\ grandmother. 4. Many dementing people die before they reach the stage of advanced dementia. 6KH ZDV PDNLQJ KLP FRIIHH WKH GD\ KH GLHG +H QHYHU FDPH WR breakfast and my grandmother, thinking to take him his morning coffee in bed, couldn’t wake him. I went in alone to see the body, and felt something shift inside, low in my belly, like gravity, like the drop from the top of a roller coaster. And then I felt nothing. I left the room, left my grandmother in the arms of my mother, and took from a drawer in the kitchen the square black notebook that contained the addresses and phone numbers of family and close friends. “I’ll make the calls,â€? I said, and retreated to my room. 2QFH WKHUH , VDW FURVV OHJJHG RQ WKH EHG SKRQH EHVLGH PH SHQ LQ KDQG DQG PDGH D OLVW 3ULRULWL]H ZKR VKRXOG , FDOO ÂżUVW" :KR FDQ ZDLW" :KR ZLOO hear by word of mouth? I went through the book, writing down names, dialing numbers. I spoke to family. I told the story. I let them say comforting things—“It’s a blessing that he went at home.â€? “This way, it’s like he just went to sleep.â€? I said appreciative things back to them and did not cry. The list fell apart before I did. The last name I’d written, Madeleine, was out of order. Madeleine was an old childhood and lifelong friend of both P\ JUDQGSDUHQWV OLNH D VHFRQG JUDQGPRWKHU WR PH JUDQGSDUHQW WKLQN UHOHDVH YDOYH WKLQN SHUPLVVLRQ JLYHU WKLQN Âł,WÂśV DOO ULJKW WR´ , GLDOHG KHU number and, when she answered, simply said, “Grandaddy’s dead.â€? I told KHU WKDW ,ÂśG VHHQ WKH ERG\ DQG VKH DVNHG LQ D KRUULÂżHG WRQH , ZLOO QHYHU QRW EH DEOH WR UHFDOO Âł2K $VKOH\ :DV KH FROG"´ “Yes,â€? I said, and choked on the word. He was cold now. Faint bruiselike patterns had formed where the blood had stagnated and pooled in his veins—on his right side, because he slept that way, was still sleeping that way, and didn’t he look peaceful? Wasn’t I comforted? I put down my lists and stayed on the phone with Madeleine till I had no tears left to cry. 66

5. The major issue confronting caregivers by this stage of dementia is the grieving process. I am still a list-maker. They have not entirely lost their power, and are still my daily security blankets, but there are moments when I look at my blankets and see his EODQNHW WKDW *HQXLQH 2OG 3HUVRQ WKURZ QRZ WXFNHG away in a closet somewhere. I have faced, watched others face, things I cannot easily quantify, things that terrify me still. I will rail against it, force it into itemized, bullet-pointed perfection, but there’s an elephant graveyard waiting somewhere for everyone, and it’s the trip—over which we sometimes ÂżQG ZH KDYH PXFK OHVV FRQWURO WKDW ZHÂśG OLNH WR EHOLHYH²WKDW NLOOV XV DOO

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HOW TO BOIL AN EGG Deanna Larsen Find a chicken. 6HGXFH KHU ZLWK \RXU UHDVRQLQJ dizzy her with statistics on export and nutrition. ([SODLQ \RX DUH QRW D IR[ 6OLS \RXU QLPEOH 多QJHUV EHQHDWK KHU IHDWKHUV admire the Caspian shell in your palm. Take your wedding gift from the cupboard; 多OO WKH FDVW LURQ SRW WR WKH EULP Reach an insufferable heat. Crack the barriers; then feast.

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CONTRIBUTOR BIOS Brooke Bailey HDUQHG KHU %$ LQ (QJOLVK IURP $SSDODFKLDQ 6WDWH 8QLYHUVLW\ LQ 6LQFH WKHQ VKH KDV WDXJKW KLJK VFKRRO (QJOLVK FODVVHV in rural North Carolina and worked as a corporate trainer. In the fall, she ZLOO EH DWWHQGLQJ 1RUWK &DUROLQD 6WDWH 8QLYHUVLW\ IRU +LJKHU (GXFDWLRQ Administration. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in various publications, including The Quotable, Certain Circuits, and Lavender Review. Myfanwy Collins has work published or forthcoming in The Kenyon Review, Cream City Review, AGNI, PANK, Mixer, Quick Fiction, Potomac Review, Mississippi Review, and other venues. Patrick Thomas Henry is a graduate of the Writers Institute at 6XVTXHKDQQD 8QLYHUVLW\ DQG KDV DOVR HDUQHG D 0$ LQ (QJOLVK OLWHUDWXUH DW %XFNQHOO 8QLYHUVLW\ &XUUHQWO\ KH DWWHQGV WKH 0)$ SURJUDP LQ &UHDWLYH :ULWLQJ DW 5XWJHUV 8QLYHUVLW\ +LV ¿FWLRQ LV IRUWKFRPLQJ LQ 7KH :ULWLQJ Disorder; he has published review essays in the journal Modern Language 6WXGLHV DQG KH LV WKH DXWKRU RI WKH FULWLFDO KHDG QRWHV LQ 2Q :ULWLQJ 6KRUW 6WRULHV HGLWHG E\ 7RP %DLOH\ +H EORJV DERXW OLWHUDWXUH DQG UHODWHG WRSLFV at http://penguininthemachine.blogspot.com. Amorak Huey recently left the newspaper business after 15 years as a reporter and editor. He teaches creative and professional writing at Grand 9DOOH\ 6WDWH 8QLYHUVLW\ LQ 0LFKLJDQ ZKHUH KH OLYHV ZLWK KLV ZLIH DQG WZR FKLOGUHQ +LV SRHPV KDYH DSSHDUHG UHFHQWO\ LQ 7KH 6RXWKHUQ 5HYLHZ Rattle, Contrary, and other journals. Deanna Larsen is a teacher/tutor/translator in Minneapolis, MN. When VKH LV QRW GRLQJ WKH DIRUHPHQWLRQHG VKH LV SUREDEO\ DW KRPH ZDWFKLQJ 6WDU Trek with her cats. Her life dream is to be a contestant on Wheel of )RUWXQH +HU ZRUN KDV DSSHDUHG LQ 3$1. 7KH $QWH 5HYLHZ (XSKRQ\ The Dirty Napkin and elsewhere. Beginning in the fall of 2011, she will be DQ 0)$ FDQGLGDWH DW 0LQQHVRWD 6WDWH 8QLYHUVLW\ 0DQNDWR

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CONTRIBUTOR BIOS Jen Marquardt has a shiny new Ph.D. in Creative Writing from the &HQWHU IRU :ULWHUV DW WKH 8QLYHUVLW\ RI 6RXWKHUQ 0LVVLVVLSSL 6KH OLNHV UHG shoes. Thomas Michael McDade lives in Monroe, CT, is married, no kids or pets. He’s a computer programmer in Meriden, CT, writing and maintainLQJ VRIWZDUH XVHG LQ WKH ZKROHVDOH UHWDLO SOXPELQJ VXSSO\ ¿HOG +H VHUYHG WZR KLWFKHV LQ WKH 8 6 1DY\ DQG JUDGXDWHG IURP )DLU¿HOG 8QLYHUVLW\ 0F'DGH KDV GRQDWHG SLQWV RI EORRG UHFRUGHG DQG FRXQWLQJ +H LV WKH DXWKRU RI WKUHH FKDSERRNV ( 3OXULEXV $OXPLQXP /LTXLG 3DSHU 3UHVV $XVWLQ 7; 2XU :RXQGV 3LWFKIRUN 3UHVV DOVR $XVWLQ DQG 7KULOO DQG 6ZLOO .HQGUD 6WHLQHU (GLWLRQV 6DQ $QWRQLR 7; 7516)5 +XOOWRZQ DQG 2¿ 3UHVV KDYH PRVW UHFHQWO\ SXEOLVKHG KLV ¿FWLRQ Andrew Payton LV D IRUPHU ¿OPPDNHU DQG IXWXUH IDUPHU +LV SRHWU\ KDV EHHQ SXEOLVKHG LQ 7KH *: 5HYLHZ 7KH (XGDLPRQLD 5HYLHZ *UXE 6WUHHW DQG LV IRUWKFRPLQJ LQ GLVORFDWH DQG &DYHDW /HFWRU 2ULJLQDOO\ IURP Maryland, he has been vagabonding about for a few years, but is excited to EH VHWWOLQJ GRZQ WR DWWHQG WKH 0)$ SURJUDP DW ,RZD 6WDWH 8QLYHUVLW\ Jessica Plante received an MA in Creative Writing, Poetry from the 8QLYHUVLW\ RI 1RUWK 7H[DV LQ ZKHUH VKH VWXGLHG ZLWK %UXFH %RQG DQG &RUH\ 0DUNV 6KH ZDV D VFKRODUVKLS UHFLSLHQW DW WKH 1HZ <RUN 6WDWH Writer’s Institute where she studied with Henri Cole, and also has taught poetry workshops to incarcerated youth in Massachusetts. When not writing, reading, or consorting with poets and writers whenever possible, you PLJKW ¿QG KHU SODQWLQJ JDUGHQV RU FUDVKLQJ ELUWKGD\ SDUWLHV +HU SRHWU\ has been published in the North Texas Review, Danse Macabre, and Zaum. 6KH FXUUHQWO\ LV DQ 0)$ FDQGLGDWH DW WKH 8QLYHUVLW\ RI 1RUWK &DUROLQD Greensboro. Jessica Poli UHFHQWO\ JUDGXDWHG IURP WKH 8QLYHUVLW\ RI 3LWWVEXUJK DQG ZLOO EH ZDQGHULQJ WKH FRXQWU\ LQGH¿QLWHO\ +HU ZRUN FDQ DOVR EH IRXQG LQ XSFRPLQJ LVVXHV RI WKH 0RQRQJDKHOD 5HYLHZ WKH 6DQWD &ODUD 5HYLHZ DQG Collision.

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Valerie Rubinaccio is a photographer, jewelry designer and artist livLQJ LQ %URRNO\Q 1< 6KH UHFHQWO\ JUDGXDWHG IURP WKH )DVKLRQ ,QVWLWXWH RI 7HFKQRORJ\ ZLWK D %6 LQ $GYHUWLVLQJ DQG 0DUNHWLQJ &RPPXQLFDWLRQV DQG D PLQRU LQ (QJOLVK +HU SKRWRJUDSK\ ZRUN KDV DSSHDUHG DW 7KH *UHHQSRLQW *DOOHU\ DQG LQ D VROR VKRZ DW 6TXDUHURRW &DIp LQ %URRNO\Q 1< :KLOH KHU subject matter ranges, her images are tied together with a photojournalistic approach. Aside from photography, she also draws and paints primarily focusing on watercolors and ink while drawing inspiration from crystallization, supernatural imagery and anatomy. Valerie also designs a jewelry line, which is sold in multiple New York boutiques. Karin Rosman OLYHV LQ 6HDWWOH EXW JUHZ XS LQ WKH UXUDO FRPPXQLWLHV RI Montana and Idaho. When she was a child, she saw a news show about a church that incorporated dangerous snakes into the service. It was both beautiful and horrifying. At the same time, the regions where she lived were KHDYLO\ LQĂ€XHQFHG E\ IXQGDPHQWDOLVP ZKLFK FRQWLQXHV WR IDVFLQDWH KHU Michael Simon’s work has appeared in Cider Press Review and Cimarron Review, and he is a recipient of the David Craig Austen Memorial Award for SRHWU\ IURP &ROXPELD 8QLYHUVLW\ +H OLYHV LQ 1HZ <RUN Courtney Thomas Vance’s ZRUN IRFXVHV RQ OLIH LQ WKH PDUJLQV 6KHÂśV D Hoosier, a New Yorker, and a Texan – in that order. Her interests include perfecting her buttermilk biscuit recipe, reading good literature, and farmLQJ 6KH KDV DOVR EHHQ SXEOLVKHG LQ ,QGHSHQGHQW ,QN 0DJD]LQH DQG LV D IXWXUH IHOORZ DW WKH 0LFKHQHU &HQWHU IRU :ULWHUV DW WKH 8QLYHUVLW\ RI 7H[DV at Austin. $VKOH\ :DNHÂżHOG LV DQ DGMXQFW (QJOLVK LQVWUXFWRU ZKR OLYHV ZRUNV DQG ZULWHV LQ &ODUNVYLOOH 71²WKRXJK QRW IRU PXFK ORQJHU 6KH ZLOO VRRQ IXOÂżOO D lifelong dream of studying in Wales, and is counting the days until she can OLYH ZRUN DQG ZULWH LQ D SODFH VDQGZLFKHG EHWZHHQ WKH ,ULVK 6HD DQG WKH home of her grandmother’s ancestors.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This issue would not be possible without the generous support of our benefactors: MAIYA HAYES DEANNA LARSEN and CHELSEA BIONDOLILLO

and the advice and aid of: TERRY BABB JUSTIN CARROLL and DR. DAVID JAUSS.

We would also like to thank everyone who took a chance on us. Thank you for sending us your work. Thank you for your faith and kindness; thank you for your patience as we worked out kinks, dealt with the blind submissions system, and reworked our submission guidelines. We’re nothing without you, the readers and writers who support the Rev House.

6HH \RX LQ 6HSWHPEHU

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