steel without the
shackling.
Who knew who
knew who
knew
I could feel good
without
feeling
bad.
All those nights
I spent in my bed hands huddled under my belly clutching at my fingers trying to find something
some
way
to feel better caught in that trap in that hell under siege overrun by all that screaming thrashing
bashing
going down
downstairs
all those nights these wraps they would’ve been perfect.
Powerful I feel
power like I’m jam-packed with power
energized
I feel
control
heated sweeping control Jesus Christ for the first time I feel control.
Fuckin’ A.
I don’t never wanna take these mothers off.
Dorothy
He’s so peaceful now, he’s got this calm easy feeling to him. He’s still got the wraps on, he’s naked except for the wraps, he’s holding me with the wraps on and I feel like I’m with a Cinderella man, like these wraps are the equivalent of a dress for the ball, trimmings for a new life.
He leans his head on mine, his pulse beats into my crown.
“What are you guys doing later?” I ask. He’s hanging out with his friends tonight, and unfortunately that pretty much guarantees the consumption of alcohol. I worry about Joey—he hasn’t gotten into any really bad incidents since the one at the bridge, but he’s had some scuffles. I always feel like he’s one drink away from disaster. Still, he’s so tranquil now, so level. It’s hard to imagine him hurting anyone, but it’s like he said — for him, there is no sanity, no normal. He could snap at any moment. He also said when he’s drunk, he starts to think that’s the real him — that’s who he truly is.
And that is one frightening thought.
“We’re gonna play cards.”
Super. “You mean you’re going to play drinking card games,” I say. Those games have such enticing names, like Circle of Death and Brain Damage.
“Yeah, I guess,” he says. “You can come, if you want.”
He knows I won’t. “Thanks, but I really don’t feel like watching you destroy your liver in endless hands of Drink Bitch.”
“Are you a teenager or, like, a parent?” he asks. His tone is kidding, but he’s half-not.
“I’m someone who’s confident enough to know I don’t have to drink to have fun.”
“Well, excuse me …,” he says. He takes in a breath like he’s about to say more, but he doesn’t.
I don’t want to argue with him. It’s the last thing I want, especially today. And I also know that for him, the drinking isn’t just about partying, getting stupid.
If only it were.
His pulse is still thumping into my head. I close my eyes, try to get lost in the rhythm of it. But I have to ask…
“Joey … you’re only drinking beer, right?”
He says nothing. There’s only the thump, thump, thump. Faster now.
I open my eyes, face the concrete wall ahead of us, face the black poster hanging. The Nike symbol’s on it, in red. The words ‘Just Do It’ are printed in stark white underneath. “Joey ….”
“C’mon, Doll. The guys’ll think I’m a wuss if I don’t drink the rum.”
“Oh sure, you can’t have them thinking you’re a big pussy,” I say sharply. I pull away now, turn and face him. “Afraid they’ll think you’re whipped?”
He doesn’t answer. He looks torn, like he doesn’t want to fight either, but also like doesn’t want to give in, change his intentions.
That stops me.
He doesn’t want to change.
If he doesn’t want to change, what am I doing here?
Deep down, I’ve had this plan. That I’d find out what was eating him, help him confront it, and poof he’d be okay. He’d stop drinking and smoking weed. He’d change.
I assumed he’d change.
But what if he doesn’t? Even when I get through to his core, what if he doesn’t want to change?
What if the real Joey is the drunk Joey?
Oh god.
Joey
That Nike poster hangs in front of us it’s like a red cape flagging a bull.
Just do it.
Just
do
it.
Yeah right.
How many times can I just do it before I wind up back behind steel bars or buried
in a wood box?
Asshole
I’m such a thick shithead.
Doll all she wants me to do is
think.
Think.
Think before I
just do
it.
Here I am giving her grief and that’s all she wants.
Dorothy
I’m staring off somewhere. I’m not even looking at him. Then I hear him say, “Okay.”
Cotton rests on each of my cheeks, his fingers touch my temple. He’s staring into me, bringing me back.
Back to him.
His eyes are earnest. “Okay, you’re right. I promise, I’ll just drink beer tonight.”
As ludicrous as that affirmation is—he really needs a ride to AA for his birthday—I feel intense relief. He’s not slipping away. He’s on the level field with me, he’s playing my game.
I can still hope ….
I can still believe that one day he’ll stop drinking altogether.
One day, he’ll stop. He’ll change.
He wants to.
He kisses me, and we fall to the mat together.
Dorothy
It’s 9:11 p.m. and I’m channel surfing on the couch with Mom and Dad. I was supposed to go study with Amy and a few other girls, but I wasn’t in the mood. I’ve decided that Amy’s okay if you accept her as she is—her primary goal in life is to be popular and admired, but hey, you have to appreciate that she’s up front about it. And once I made it clear that I was going to date Joey no matter what anyone thought, she accepted it. I don’t like all the gossiping, though, and so I can only hang out with her and her crowd now and then. And tonight, I didn’t feel up to it. I just want to veg, after all that went on with Joey. It was beautiful, but it was exhausting.
He had to go home for dinner, he said his mom always bakes a cake for him on his birthday. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to meet his family; I wanted to sing to him; I wanted to watch him wish and blow out his candles. But he wouldn’t let me come. He wouldn’t even discuss it. At first it seemed like he was going to say something, tell me something. He had this anxious air around him, like he wanted to spill something out. Like in my room that day, when he told me everything he’d done.
Was there more?
But then he pursed his lips together and swallowed—it was as though he choked down the words, forced them down his throat—and when he did speak, his voice was firm. He said, “Doll, trust me. You don’t even wanna go there.”
It was good that I came home, anyway. My parents both made an attempt to talk to me at dinner—Mom’s voice was actually normal for once—and over spinach fettuccine, salad, and garlic bread we had a lively conversation about school and about their new offices in Garden City. That’s why we moved, because they brought their practices to Long Island. They got a great deal in a luxury building, saved a bundle in rent, and now they have adjacent suites and lunch every day. Cute, isn’t it? Anyway, I was so happy to have parents back that I agreed to hang with them afterward, watch tv.
I’m sandwiched between them, and it’s nice. It’s like old times.
Dad’s flicking through channels—we just caught the tail-end of Good Will Hunting. Huge faces flash by on the giant plasma screen as Dad now hunts for something we’d all enjoy. There’s the Law and Order guys, there’s Jack Nicholson trying to hack up his family in The Shining, ther
e’s Queen Latifah in one of those feel-good-about-yourself-no-matter-what movies, and now there’s the Lollipop Guild, welcoming Dorothy to Munchkinland.
Dad leaves it on.
I say, “You know, those Munchkins really make me laugh. Dorothy kept telling them she wasn’t a witch, but they just wouldn’t listen.”
Mom says, “Small-minded.”
Dad says, “You think that’s the real point of this movie?”
I say, “Let’s not psychoanalyze The Wizard of Oz.”
Joey
This whining little motherfucker Holden Caulfield
problem?
If I got packed off to some
candy-ass
boarding school if they shipped me the fuck outta
this
place I sure as hell wouldn’t do nothing to get booted out to get
sent
back
home.
I’m laying in bed reading this book just ‘cause Doll gave it to me I wanna know what the hell she thinks I have in common with this
tool
who trolls around
sponging
for company and
cocktails.
Cocktails.
Christ.
Drink from the bottle dude.
Meanwhile I bailed on my friends tonight. I was just too tired after all that stuff with Doll god what an awesome day and then I came home I had
cake with Mom Jimmy Warren and
Pop.
Pop
actually gave me a
rap
on the shoulder wished me
happy birthday
but in a way that’s harder when he’s
cool
it knocks me
off my
game
when I get a taste of the
Pop
the rest of the world knows. The
stand
up
guy who’ll always pull over to help someone
stuck on the side of the
road. Mister good time who’s
cracking his buddies up
so amusing
down at the bar
plus
he’s buying the next
round.
No one knows the
Pop
behind our
closed front
door.
So anyway I was just too frigging exhausted and I wanted to lay down and read my book.
I got my wraps on now
I put them on again.
When I got home
before dinner
I came right
upstairs
brought up all my stuff to
my room and I
unraveled
my wraps.
I did it partly cause I didn’t feel like explaining or
sharing yet with no one about the
boxing
and also on account of I wanted to
keep
them
clean.
But I looped them on again as soon as I got in my room
after cake.
Doll did them better so
neat so
sleek so
perfect like a
new
skin
how’d she do that? Now they’re
lumpy they’re
thick they’re
bulky clumps I look like a
mental
patient fresh from a suicide try gone wrong but who gives a shit my hands they feel amazing.
I think of her again I think of Doll I look over at the card she gave me it’s
propped
up on my night stand next to a
half-empty bottle of Bud.
I promised I wouldn’t drink no rum so here I am
downing
piss-warm
beer
aww it don’t matter anyhow
it does the same job in the long run.
I think of
her
the way she wanted to
come over tonight she wanted to
meet
my
folks yeah that’d be something.
I wanted to tell her I almost did I almost let it all loose about
Pop.
The words were there at the
edge
of my tongue they were ready to
leap
but I
stopped
them I stopped them I
stopped
them I gulped a wad of spit and shoved them words
down
down
way the hell
down ‘cause I’m
scared.
I’m
scared
she’ll leave me that
that’ll
be
it
my freak show family is too much for her
I’m too much of a
freak
for her.
I’m
scared
to tell what my
pop
is how he hurts my mom how I
watch.
I’m
scared
she’ll think I’ll
be
that monster one day and I’m
scared
she’ll be right.
I’m scared of changing the way she sees things
forever
changing the
shading
of her world
she’s got no
clue
how
dark
things can get.
I been
covering
so long I’m
scared
of the light. Even after today after all we been
through
even though I felt so
light
with her still I can’t do it I can’t show myself
in
this
light it’s too much.
Me and my family
we been passing so long.
People
pass
us by
they
pass
our house our neat flower beds our
shiny
aluminum siding
all those
stupid
smiling
people
all those
deaf dumb blind
dense like a brick passers-by
they got no idea
what’s
up
inside.
What would they do if they knew?
She wants to come in.
I’m scared.
For me.
For her.
I can’t tell her.
Ole Frank Sinatra he starts wailing away downstairs on
Pop’s
stereo.
Come fly with me.
It’s a signal to me
it’s like the Bat Signal reversed
‘stead of telling me to
spring
into
action it’s telling me to stay put in my cave.
It’s a signal that
getting hammered he’s slamming them down getting ready for another night of hammering.
Something crashes sounds like glass.
Sinatra wants to
pack
up and fly
away.
Not an option,
Frankie
baby.
Not yet.
I fold my arms
together.
Tight.
Soft black cloth
coats
my goose bumps it
settles
those little raised hairs.
Happy frigging birthday to me.
Cheers.
Dorothy
We watch the Wicked Witch of the West s
ink to the floor, shrieking all the way.
I ask, “Why on earth would anyone keep a bucket of water around when they know it could destroy them?”
Mom says, “It’s just a story, honey. You can’t think about it too much.”
Dad says, “The bucket has to be there. How else would they melt the witch?”
My point exactly.
Seven
Joey
I must be
nuts
bringing her here when I swore to myself
I
wouldn’t.
But she kept at me
she wouldn’t let up she wanted to meet my folks she wanted to see my
house she wanted to see my
room.
Yesterday my mom got a call she found out my grandma in Florida came down with double pneumonia. So Mom she took Warren they flew down to go see her and they won’t be back for three days.
Doll
when she heard that
she got this idea to cut
out of school come over my house while
Pop’s
working his shift.
We didn’t get to borrow Jason’s garage
at all this week on account of him and some of the
other guys
training
heavy
for a lifting contest
so that left us
outside and horny.
Even if I
broke my
word
to
myself
and agreed to go to her house when her
parents
are working, we couldn’t. Her mom
finally found a housekeeper she liked
enough
to hire for
keeps
she was testing them out since they moved here.
Guess she’s as picky for her
home as she is for her daughter.
Hey you can’t blame her.
So I thought,
Why not bring her
home?
We get some inside
alone
time and it’ll make her
happy she gets
part
of what she wants.
Maybe that’ll be enough.
Christ I hope so.
I gotta admit it’s unbelievable having her here in my room in my bed she smells so good she’s like a Glade Air Freshener in my stale world maybe her scent’ll linger when she’s gone.
We’re laying here holding each other
just finished making love
we did it the minute we got through my
bedroom door
we just about fell onto the bed in a
tangle.
She wanted to do it downstairs when we walked in she was all over
me I was about to lay her down on the couch but then I caught that old
love seat
in the corner of my
eye
and then I just
couldn’t.
I didn’t tell her that of course add that to my list of things I don’t
tell her
makes me feel so bad but I