“Of course you’re not, because you’re fine, right? Perfectly fine. And as long as you’re okay, the rest of the world, which now includes me, can go to hell. Oh, except for Lacey, because she won’t tell your secret, right? Little kids are pretty handy that way.”
I look at the sweatshirts
Stare at the wall
At the ceiling
Because really
What does Lacey have to do with anything?
“I don’t know what to tell you, Raesha,
but this is fucked
completely fucked
and I
don’t
know
what
to
do.”
Insomnia
It works best when I begin with my toes
Or it used to anyway
Imagining them relaxed
Pinky toe first
Pulling a blanket of sleep
Up and over my foot
Ankle
Calf
Eased into the rest that’s abandoned me tonight
Sitting at the end of the couch
Knees pulled to my chest
Staring into the television
Ignoring the weight of the phone in my hand
Wondering (knowing) what Asia would say
If I called
Said I was sorry
Again
Knowing I could sleep
If I called
Unless…
A Hundred Reasons
I would probably call
If I wasn’t so interested in the television
Completely absorbed in the show chronicling a woman’s travels
Through England-Iceland-China-wherever it was she was
I was suddenly on my feet
Nudging Blue with my toes
Not waiting for him to stretch himself awake
And follow me upstairs
To organize
Something
Anything
Last night it was cleaning the kitchen
The counters
The floors
Tonight my closet
Now the guest room
Not that a guest has ever stayed in it
There’s really no need
What with the spare room downstairs
Much more comfortable than the guest room upstairs
Where no one has slept
Since Dad moved his clothes into the room down from mine
Because after she was gone it became too hard
To sleep there
Alone
This is my favorite place to clean
After the arms of the clock have swung into the single digits
When Dad is away
Working
Leaving me
To organize
This space
To sort
My thoughts
Everything in its Place
Blue walks through the door
His nails clicking against the wood floors
The crankiness that festered all day
Like the cactus spines in the pads of his paw
I had to pull out this afternoon
Leaving him limping and sore
Fills up his chest
Escaping as a groan as he flops onto the floor at my feet
I kneel and kiss him on the muzzle
Smoothing his triangle ears against his head
Pausing to untangle a cocklebur from beneath his collar
The cleaning always goes the same
Beginning with the kerosene lamps
Lined up along the top of the dresser
One in each window
Lifting the glass off each
Rubbing it clear with one of Dad’s old shirts
White cotton worn through
Fibers broken by the work
Of the hauling and feeding and moving that never ends
Next to the bed
Smoothing the sheets
I never asked where the quilt went
The one with the doves and leaves she was given
She lay beneath
For naps
That became longer and longer
I wish I had
Asked
Next to the floor
Running the dust mop around Blue
Beneath the bed
Where the handle
Catches the edge of a box
The size of a deck of cards
Tucked into the frame
Now laying in the fluff of dust
Pushed and piled by the mop
Clove cigarettes
I remember her quitting
Or trying
Forsaking those moments she spent with the stars on the porch
Beneath my window after I was in bed
Exhaling her way out of the day
Taking up walking instead
Around the pond
Through the pastures
Because she had a little girl who needed her healthy she’d said
Not knowing about the tumor in her breast
Already there
Growing
Slowly
Growing
That’s where I go
To the porch and the stars
Blue sits on the steps beside me
Hindquarters perched one step higher than his paws
Nosing the box on my knees
Urging me to open it
And I do
I can see the box isn’t new
A matchbook tucked into the plastic wrap
Top half-torn away
So I don’t know why my hands start shaking
When I see they aren’t all
There
Why the tears start
When I pull one out
Shorter than the rest
Gently snubbed
Blue backs away
Curling up on his saddle blanket
When I pull the flame through the tip with my breath
Feeling
Loving
The fire pouring down my throat
Running my tongue along my lips
Tasting the sweetness
I thought I knew
Falling
He said my head bounced
Against the tile
When the floor pulled me down
We’d been hovering in the hallway
Just outside the classroom door
“Then how come you didn’t drive together?” he’d asked.
We just didn’t.
But he knew Asia and I were fighting
As soon as he saw her truck pull into the parking lot
Without me
Which made me mad
Because if he knew
Why was he asking?
I’d been standing
Back pressed
Flat
Holding up the wall
Holding up me
Talking to Cody
Absorbing the cool of the metal lockers
Had my knee not been locked
If I could have slept
Even with Blue tight against my side
Curled up underneath the blankets
His head smelling like pond water on the pillow next to me
I couldn’t fall
Asleep
(I’d gotten the shakes
Bad
Last night
After)
It’s a bad habit
Like biting my nails
Or moving my lips when I read
Only this one
This habit
Tinges the bristles of my toothbrush with blood
Filling my mouth with the taste of baking soda and iron
That’s what I’d thought of
The pond
The way the water feels filling up my nose and ears
When I’d reached
For
Cody
There
Now
He wipes the blood
Trickling from my nostril
With his bandanna
Always tucked in his back pocket
Tender as a cow licking her calf clean
Me looking up
Surfacing
Through
All the voices
Aftermath
I sit
Stand
Am raised up by Cody
His arm
Around my waist
Holding me strong as I blink the walls slanting sideways right
I can’t tell if it’s the blood
Staining Cody’s bandanna
The taste of baking soda and iron
On my tongue
Or the floor
Pitching and rolling
That makes my mouth fill with saliva
Nausea
Mr. Retsom steps out the door
Into the hall
Wondering at the commotion
That is now me
Leaning against Cody
Encircled by stares
Cody guides me through the audience
To the office
Where I lay
Inhaling the smell of coffee and ink
On the bed with the paper sheet and tablecloth-thin blanket
Listening to Miss Mary Lee typing at the computer
Monitor edged with photos of her children
School nurse
Secretary
My former babysitter
back when I wore turtle-patched overalls
not caring if my socks matched
Ice in the plastic bag
Pressed to my forehead
Melts
Finds a hole
Seeps
Through the washcloth over my eyes
Into my hair
I know I should go back to class
But the fear in Cody’s eyes
Will have flowed through his lips
Into Asia’s ears
Heart
I won’t
Don’t
Know what to do
About the trouble
I created
again
Exit Stage Left
I’d stood at her desk
With the phone
In my hand
Stuck
Because
“Your dad’s not home?”
Miss Mary Lee asked.
No
But he will be
Home
Soon
I said
Which wasn’t much
Of a lie
“Well then. What should we do?” she’d asked.
Knowing I couldn’t go back to class
Not with a headache like this
Knowing I definitely didn’t want to wait
On the paper-sheet bed until my dad could come
Which is how I ended up here
Sitting in her car
The gas fume pop of the ignition
The crunch of tires on the gravel of the staff parking lot
Headed home
I wish I would have
Know I couldn’t have
Talked to Cody
Found Asia to let her know
That I didn’t
Wouldn’t need
A ride home
Before I left
“Now, you’ll be all right, won’t you?” Miss Mary Lee asks,
As our driveway comes into sight
“Give me a call if you need anything.”
I will. Thanks for the ride.
Blue comes tearing around from behind the house
In a plume of dust
He must have been dozing
For us to have gotten this close
Without him hearing
Miss Mary Lee reaches over and turns the music down
“I mean it. Any little thing comes up and you give me a call.”
I will.
I repeat
But I won’t
Feeling better
Now that I’m home
I swing the car door open
Careful not to look back
Into eyes that care
Too much
Thanks again.
I end up saying it more to Blue
Dancing around my legs
Happy to have me
Home
Miss Mary Lee leans toward the passenger side window
Still open
“Get some rest, sweetie,” she calls.
As she backs out of our driveway
I pull out my best smile
Dust it off
Put it on
As I wave
Reminding myself
I am fine
I don’t need
Anything
At all
Stripped Bare
Standing in front of the open refrigerator
Absorbing the cold with my body
I stare at the shelves
Lined with food
Dad restocked
Before he left last night
I haven’t touched any of it
The food will all go bad
By the time Dad gets back
So what does it matter?
All of it
Goes
I’m not leaving
Anything
Juice
Cheese
Yogurt
The trash can is under the sink
I stack it full
Strip the shelves
Bare
Protecting myself
So I don’t
Fuck up
Throw up
I’ve been good
My body feels clean
The trash can is heavy
My arms are so tired that I can’t lift it
Into our outside can
It doesn’t matter
It’s better this way
Throwing away one thing at a time
The bag is the last to go in
This is what control looks like
It feels good
Role Play
The trash can is easy to carry
Now that it’s empty
Inside the phone rings
It’s Dad
I knew it would be
School ended
Add drive time
Enter phone number
And here I am
He’s on time
To the minute
Focus
How are you
was school
Is Blue
And the cattle
How are they
Minus five
Focus
On filling my voice
With the energy I don’t have
Because it’s fine
It is
So that’s what I say
His radio plays in the background
I picture him in his truck
On the map in my head
A red dashed line starts
At the X that is our house and crawls across the state
Dad starts talking
About this stockyard
And a registered Black Angus sale
I walk upstairs to my room
Phone cupped to my ear
To the pile of clean laundry
I threw on my bed this morning
Without folding
I’ll do it
In a minute
Just not now
The sun teases me over with a warm square of light
Through my bedroom window
I see a truck
Asia’s truck
Driving away
With Blue chasing behind
Dad’s story is winding down
I pick up
The tail end
I’ve got to go.
Drive safe.
I love you.
I say
Miss you
I think
I click off the phone
Look around the living room
For some sign that Asia was here
That she came in without knocking
Like she always does
But she didn’t come in
Didn’t wait
Not even for a minute
Delivery
My books are
Stacked on the porch
Homework
Asia brought me my homework
Blue’s twisting and wagging around my legs
My hand finds his head
My mind wanders back
To the food in the garbage
It would hurt
Filling my stomach
It would hurt
Jamming my hand down my throat
It would be good
To hurt
Like that right now
The dust from her tires
Still hangs in the air
I pick up a book
The one on the top is the biggest
The heaviest
An anthology
I love the weight of it in my hands
On my knees
As I sit down on the top step
Blue sits next to me
My fingers walk down the spine of the book
Grasping it on either side
It’s a broom
A fan
Sweeping back and forth in the air
Scraps of paper
My notes
Flutter free
Floating for a moment
Before they hit
The ground
Unexpected Gift
It wasn’t what I had wanted
That bike
Slightly more than lightly used
Cracked leather seat veined dark with age
Wheel spokes skinnied away
By the rust that colored the frame