Capricious (8 page)
Because I thought you were mad at me
Because you didn't want me to do it
Because I don't like feeling that way.
What way? Like I care what happens to you?
Why would you want to show off like that?
Because I needed to join a group for the trip
Because once I'd joined I'd look chicken if I quit
Because I told myself I can do anything.
But how is that challenging for you?
Exposing your body like a stripper?
Because of what happened last year
Because I don't care if people see me
Because it's MY body.
But that was different; that was art
This was just trashy; you're better than that.
Because of this I didn't call you!
Because you think I'm trashy
Because maybe I belong in a Dumpster.
Raphaelle, my love, don't say that
You belong with me.
THE OFFICIAL STORY
How was the car wash?
Kayli asks
Though it's late
And hot in my room
She fell asleep in there
Waiting for me.
It was great, I lie
I went to Genie's after
And Samir picked me up
We went for falafel.
I hope that is the end of it
I can't do this again
Though Kayli is kind of innocent
Floating in her cloud
Of social success
It occurs to me
She might not know
The whole story
But I guess
That's how I like it.
Did Samir drop you off?
She asks
Dreamily
You're sleeping with him
Aren't you?
Is it good?
I don't answer
Thinking maybe
Nothing will ever
Be good again.
BEHIND MY EYELIDS
My eyes move
In dreams and I
Imagine my broken
Body, bikini askew
In the bottom of
A rusty Dumpster.
Time can't be undone
Mistakes can't be unmade
And the things Samir saw
Even if they weren't real
Can never be unseen.
FALLING WORDS
Like water rushing
Gushing
Over rocks
To froth and churn
Below.
Trashy.
Show-off.
Like a stripper.
And the word
He called Genie
Sharmouta
It means slut.
You can't trust
Girls like that
He said
Don't even speak to them
I'll get your clothes
And phone
Tomorrow.
Maybe everything
Will be better
Tomorrow
Maybe
Tomorrow
I won't be
A girl like that.
RED INK
I sketch
My hand
in red ink
Squeezing a sopping sponge
So the dripping water
Looks like blood.
HEAT
My clock says 12:03
When I wake
Baking
In the hot sun
Pouring in the skylight
Kayli is gone
The house is quiet
And my mind has flipped
Back to David.
EMPTY HOUSE
Kayli's room is cool
In both senses of the word
Cool as the permafrost
Two feet down
Cool as having the right handbag
The right haircut
The right shoes.
I lie on her wide pink bed
And imagine being the kind of girl
Who might sleep down here.
Sheathed in H&M pajamas
Powdered in pink
Circled in friends
Sweet but secretive.
Sweetness is something
I've never quite mastered
Never really wanted to.
But secrecy
Clings to me
As naturally as disaster
And humiliation.
Kayli found one of those
Ornate old phones
And hooked it up down here.
I wrap my fingers around
The curved handset
And think of phoning David
Wondering what I might say.
If I told him everything
About the girls in junior high
Who locked me in the dark
How I nearly died
About Genie's jealousy
And continued vengeance
Would he understand?
Or would he blame me too?
KNEELING BUS
Buses kneel now, did you know?
Like supplicants
To Marika's regal glory
Bus drivers greet her like a queen
And flirt with us both.
She seems to know
Every person we meet
Young or old
From bald babies
To gray old ladies.
I
Will
Be
M-A-Y-O-R
One
Day
Marika says.
And no one disagrees.
TALKING
How was your first day with Marika?
Dad asks
Again with the uber-parenting
He smiles as I answer
Fine
Good
Fun.
I think this will be
A great summer for you, Rah Rah
He says
Oblivious.
A job, new friends
I hear the car wash was fun.
Mmm, I say
As he wanders off
Distracted by a ringing phone.
I could follow him
And tell him
How wrong he is.
But I can't
I've told Samir to forget it
He got my phone
And clothes back
And threatened Genie
To shut her up
And she has those other girls
Under her command.
No one else needs to know
No one needs my problems
Any more than I do.
I would talk
I could talk
I should talk
But I can talk
Myself
Out of talking
With anyone.
FULL DISCLOSURE
On the way back from 7-Eleven
With an after-dinner Slurpee
I run into Dad's student
The bearded stoner
Kieran is his name.
Silly, possibly imprudent
That I toke with him
In the park.
His smile slides smartly away
When I say “seventeen.”
But he recovers.
How has your summer been so far?
Do you have a job?
Blearily
I tell him about Marika
And he says all kinds
Of patronizing things
About generosity
And what a good person
I must be to work with her.
This is news to me.
I thought I was doing it for money.
WHISPERS
Words waft up with heat waves
Trying to sleep with spinning things
Swimming in the water
In the ceiling.
Now I float feeling stupid
And clueless
But still the whispers drift, dancing
Up the stucco walls
To my window
Parker, no.
I sit up
Stand up
Kayli's voice on the front step
In the steamy air
The whole street watching her
Repeat
no
I open my mouth to speak
But Kayli says
Just go
Parker retreats
Conceding this battle
But maybe not
Admitting defeat.
Sweetie?
I call down
Are you okay?
But she disappears
Or doesn't hear
Or care
My thoughts tilt and melt
And sleep slips its
Slender arms
Around me.
DROPPED CALL
The home phone rings
And rings
And Mom picks it up
Hello?
No one there
She says with a shrug
But when it happens
Again
Does some boy
Have a secret crush
On you
Or your sister?
Crush? I say
Not that I know.
I don't tell her
I'm in on all the secrets.
FIRST BASE
Crack of ball on bat
David in his baseball hat
Me in cut-offs on a picnic mat.
He said he'd hit a homer for me
Like a teen
TV
movie parody
Those ones that end in tragedy.
But a sticky orange Popsicle
The heat rising like it's tropical
Makes the summer afternoon magical
For today no one gets caught by lies
No one gets hit by a ball and dies
And no one tells secrets or cries.
EVASION
I like pizza
And boys
Together especially.
Though sometimes I prefer boys
With their mouths full of pizza
Than asking awkward questions.
Like
are we a couple?
And
why are you so afraid
Of being normal?
And if I could list
All the reasons I'm afraid
It might take my whole life.
Instead
I almost tell David
That I love him.
I love him for
What he doesn't know
About me.
FILE MANAGEMENT
things
the         I
though           almost
as                                     say
feel                                              are
to                                                     piling
starting                                                            too
I'm                                                                              high
THE BOOK OF MORMON CAMPING
It sounds like a nightmare to me
But “all denominations are welcome”
And Kayli doesn't want to face
Two weeks without Parker
Her deceptively proper and polite
Mormon boyfriend
Who I happen to know
Has reached second base at least.
Two weeks of tall trees
A green lake
Campfires
Lumpy bunks
And sneaking into shadows
For fumbling frolics
In fragrant piles
Of pine needles.
Please oh please oh please
Kayli says
I promise I'll pass
All my classes.
I pinky promise.
Pinky promises bear no weight
With Mom
But Dad is moved
By Kayli's earnest entreating.
Mormons
, Mom says later
They'll suck her in
To their bizarro world.
Then she changes,
Puts on her church dress
And drags Dad and Kayli
To the house of our God.
LUNGS
We all pretend not to listen
To Kayli breathe
Mom especially
Stops
Talking
In the middle of sentences
And waits while Kayli
Ties her shoes
Or pours juice
Listening
Trying to hear
The telltale hiss
Like a punctured tire
A gas leak
Something toxic
It's usually mild
“Mild,” they say at the
ER
Except when it's not
Except when it's
Catastrophic
I pretend not to listen
To the panic in Mom's voice
Next year
, she says
Or the year after
Like things will be different
Mom trusts God
To help and support her
Help Kayli breathe
Whatever it takes
But she doesn't trust God
Enough.
CAPRICIOUS: PART ONE
Like all good Catholics
Mom is obsessed with death
She reads the obituaries
From back home
And visits graveyards
With bunches of daisies
Picked in the lane.
We got Charlotte a headstone
She tells me
About a homeless woman
Who died last New Year's
Frozen like leftovers
Resplendently dead
On a park bench
With a book I gave her
Tucked in her pale hand.
Charlotte rests
Under a scrawny tree
And I nearly break my ankle
In a gopher hole
On the way to her grave.
I see a golf ball
Two condoms
And a child's mitten
Squashed in the mud.
Mom lays the daisies
On the stone
And murmurs a prayer
While I hear the clang
Of a Dumpster closing
The cars on the highway
And wonder what
Charlotte ever did
To God.
AN ANSWER
Dear Raphaelle,
Thank you for writing. Samir and I haven't spoken in years.
I email him on his birthday, and other days.
I miss him too. I miss my whole family.
I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I think it's hopeless.
Some chasms can never be crossed.
I've thought about calling Sam.
I imagine he has his own cell phone now.
It's not my place to ask you for his number,
but I'd love to speak to him
Even for a few minutes. You could give him my number too.
Please don't think badly of him for this.
Family comes first to him.
To me too, but I can't change who I am.