Capricious (7 page)
On the Space Station.
Then they both laugh
Until they fall over.
NAP TIME
After Nina and Marika go
While Jibreel naps in his car seat
On the kitchen table
Samir slides his hand
Under my summer dress
And his fingers linger
On the surprising smoothness.
Can I look?
He asks
We slip behind the pantry door
Wow
, he says
Admiring my new landscape
A neat and trim and tiny strip
You should take another picture
Like a before and after
Did you do this for me?
I could lie
And say yes
But do I really want him to think
I'm that kind of girl?
Then again
Is it better to be
The kind of girl
Who would
frolic practically naked
In front of strangers
For money?
PREDICTABLE
So I tell the truth
Experimentally
Like free-diving into open space.
Samir stares at me
His face unreadable
I watch him take two careful breaths.
Tell me you're kidding
He says, smoothing my dress down
And stepping into the kitchen.
And when I don't
He says something
I didn't realize I expected him to say.
What if I don't want you to?
He bites it back
But some things can never be unsaid.
He waits
As though he knows
The next words out of my mouth.
You don't own me
You don't control me
You can't tell me what to do with my body.
Jibreel coos
On the table
And saves us from ourselves, for now.
THERE IS NO ESCAPE
Yes, Ella
It has to be
A bikini
Otherwise it would be
A “Skanky Droopy
One-Piece Car Wash.”
SECOND OPINION
David's only comment
About the car wash
Is that I should have fun
And remember
To wear sunscreen.
OASIS
Are you excited about summer?
Marika talks of nothing else
She has big plans for the two of you.
She knows I can't drive the van, right?
Marika loves taking the bus
And they all have ramps now
You'll be fine.
I'd like to do some art with her.
That would be great
You'd think she'd be sick of art
But she adores it.
I think she'll probably teach me things.
I wouldn't be surprised
She's studied all the techniques
Right now she's into Fauvism.
That suits me.
I'm quite wild myself.
CAFETERIALISM
I'm late for lunch
Because I fall into one of those
Moments where you just stare
Into your locker wondering
What is the meaning of it all?
And where is my Chapstick?
I sit with David
Although he's with his football friends
Who look at me like I have snakes for hair.
So, Ella, still doing photography?
One of them says
Dude, shut up
, David says.
But I sweetly ask the friend
If he'd like to pose for a new piece
Called “Virgin Penises.”
Don't qualify. But you could include David.
Oh my god. You're such a dick
, David says
As his friends snicker into their smoothies.
Then I long to take David's hand
In front of everyone, even Samir
But instead I put both hands on my lap.
I hear you're doing the car wash
, says the friend
Isn't a bikini a little overdressed for you?
David tenses but I shake my head.
It's not my style to have a boy fight for my honor
That's from songs and movies and trashy books
And I could probably eviscerate this douche nozzle
But I actually feel sorry for him
Because I'm pretty sure he's jealous
Of all that David has.
BROWN-PAPER PACKAGE
It arrives wrapped in plain brown paper
As though a vintage bikini is something
Kinky
Unseemly
Forbidden
I suppose for some people, maybe it is.
It's a little too big for me
In the boobs especially, but I fix it with
Pins
Darts
Tucks
And little hand stitches, like an Amish girl.
The blue polka-dotted high-waist bottoms
Cover everything
Belly
Navel
Ass
And every inch of waxed bit.
The intricately seamed and structured top piece
Turns my breasts into engineering wonders
Rockets
Missiles
Pleasure domes
I can't help but laugh at my pin-up self.
As usual, I look faintly ridiculous
Like a girl who has fallen out of time
And space
Into
Chaos
But at least, at last, I feel like me.
JUDGMENT
It's an odd vindication
To get the official report
On my grade-eleven year.
It's an odd evaluation:
Raphaelle overcame a lot
Of obstacles to get here.
It's an odd situation
Because the “obstacles” were set
By those who say,
We're proud of her.
It's odd, their admiration
Those flaccid words they wrote
Instead of the truth that I'd prefer.
“Raphaelle is an abomination
A self-obsessed, destructive brat
A nihilist, a saboteur.”
It's odd, the source of my salvation:
I passed all their tests, like that
Is any kind of accurate measure.
ESCAPE
We pour out doors
That open as though
For the first time
Freedom erupts
Shouts of triumph
Of primal joy
Rise into the blue sky.
I wonder, if we love summer so much
Why most of us will return.
The back-to-school magazines will arrive
And we will file obediently
Through those unlocked doors
Sucking down from the blue sky
Our triumph
Our joy
Our freedom
Letting the clouds of autumn fall
And close their dome around us.
For now I exhale and let
Stale repressive gym shoes
Linoleum wax
Trophy polish
Neglected books
Blue ink
Formaldehyde frogs
And whiteboard marker
Dissipate in the warm breeze.
I inhale one last breath
Of steel and concrete
Resolve and think
Just the car wash to survive
Now.
COLD AND DARK: PART ONE
We washed a hundred cars
And Genie glared
At my eye-popping attire.
And when the newspaper
Only wanted a picture of me
Looking like a manic vintage starlet
Genie glared some more.
We made good money
Secured away in Genie's car
With my backpack, clothes and phone.
The sun sank; it cooled off
And when the last water bucket was thrown
At me, it was all in fun.
Genie laughed first.
Then we all laughed as I dripped.
That makes me need to pee, I spluttered
And ran off past the Dumpsters
To the gas station bathroom
A seedy, creepy, damp and skeevy
Dingy cracked-white-tiled affair.
It smelled of mold and dead things.
I peed fast and wiped and washed
And rushed back to the parking lot to find
The girls, their cars, my clothes and phone
Their laughter
Those few hours of camaraderie
I worked so hard for
Gone.
COLD AND DARK: PART TWO
I could do it
Walk alone across town at night
In nothing but a vintage bikini
Floppy sun hat
And flowered flip-flops.
Or I could flounce into the Stop'n Go
Ignore the cashier's shocked stare
And demand to use the phone.
Or I could plead my case with a bus driver
And ask to borrow a sweater.
Or I could beg for quarters
And find a phone booth
And phone Samir or David
Or Ms. Sagal or Mom and Dad
And admit that here I am again.
Where girls I thought were becoming friends
Made off with my possessions
And left me to the concrete and steel.
I could just
Swallow
My
Shame.
But I can't move.
FROZEN
Like that girl
Locked under the stairs
In a condemned auditorium
In winter.
Frozen
Like an image
On a glitchy video
Me on the concrete, crying.
Frozen
Like that night
In the dark
I can't seem to leave behind.
Frozen
At fourteen nearly
Fifteen too scared to yell for help
Too drunk to think.
Frozen when they found me
Half dead, numb
With no words to explain
What happened.
Frozen
As their faces
When I finally
Went back to school.
Frozen as their lies
Tinkling down like icicles
We didn't realize
We thought you were right behind us.
Frozen
As a corpse on a mountainside
Maybe if they all want me dead
I should just die.
SPIRIT GUIDE
The gas station is out by the bypass on-ramp
So we would get the commuters heading home
Backing onto a fertilizer depot
That's out of business
With a narrow lane between them
Lined with rusty Dumpsters
I crouch between two of them watching
Truckers and strange shadowy men
Trudge past unbuckling
On the way to the bathroom.
I try to be quiet
Try to disappear into the dark
Bite down on my knuckles
To silence my chattering teeth
And time passes
The slice of dark sky above me changes
I watch Jupiter's transit
A satellite and a distant plane.
The cars on the highway hum
Until my ears ring so loudly
I can't hear my heart pound anymore
Maybe I fall asleep and dream
A tapping, scuffling noise
I turn my eyes up and see
I'm nose to nose with a coyote
Sniffing, she nods
Her primal understanding.
I would trade places with you
I tell her, I would trade bodies
She's wiry, lean and bright like
She drinks only moonlight, howling
Letting the white glow infuse her.
I would give my opposable thumb
And my dysfunctional frontal lobes
For her blurry fur,
Her bone-hungry freedom.
A car door slams
And she wisps away
Like smoke
Taking my dream with her.
NOT ALONE
Someone yells down the alley
And the hard steel rings
Like bells in my ears.
Footsteps crunch on gravel
Broken glass and oily trash
A low voice murmurs
A Dumpster lid creaks open
For a few seconds
And clangs shut
So loud it rattles something loose.
My mind clears
He sounds like he's praying.
Another Dumpster opens and
Closes like a gunshot.
He's praying.
I strain to hear over the trucks
And the blood rushing
I can't understand the words but
He's praying
Praying
In Arabic.
Samir.
My voice dies in my throat
I slam my fist on the metal.
He steps in front of the moon
And falls down, hand on his chest
Habibti, thank God.
You were looking for me in Dumpsters?
Why? I ask, and his eyes fill with tears.
Don't make me say it out loud.
MISSING GIRL
I've been looking for you for hours
Genie said you left her party.
You didn't answer your phone
No one is home at your place
I tried everywhere.
Twenty minutes ago Genie texted me
Admitting they left you here
That you were never at her house
That the last they saw of you
You were heading to the bathroom.
Put my hoodie on, you're shivering.
Alhamdulillah you're all right.
My heart is pounding
My heart, my love
I'll murder that sharmouta.
DAMAGE CONTROL
Please don't tell my parents
Don't tell anyone.
Not David
Not Kayli
No one.
I'd explain what this did to me
Last time
The long hours on a shrink's couch
The insomnia
But suddenly somehow our love seems
Fragile
Like we've crossed a bridge into a castle
Of cobwebs
And the slightest wind could blow us both
Away.
WHY?
Because I couldn't move
Because I was too embarrassed
Because I didn't know who to call.
You should have called ME, habibti
You can always call me, no matter what.