But then I need to shit—luckily that’s the toilet right there, I step out dripping wet, sit down, and it all comes shooting out, that felt kind of good, flush, open the window, back in the shower. Yes, that’s the Danny Tenaglia track where he eats ice cream and licks the floor and then oh my fucking God it’s like the record is stuck there in the melted mess—strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, raspberry meringue, peppermint patty, cookie dough, mint chocolate chip, peanut butter toffee crunch, yes, lick that floor and is this Sage deejaying or Junior Fucking Vasquez?
Oh, this water in my beats—rattle ship battle skip tattle rip scattle drip—oh, wait, someone’s knocking. Come in!
Is it okay to pee, Avery asks. I’m kind of pee-shy.
Oh, don’t worry—the water is running. I’m having so much fun.
I’m having fun too.
Avery pisses—that didn’t take long, but then he’s standing there for a while and there’s the shower curtain between us so I can’t tell what’s going on but Avery’s moving around and maybe he took off his shirt and I’m trying to act like I’m not thinking about it and then wait, he’s pulling the shower curtain back and when I look over I see he’s totally naked so I pull the shower curtain all the way open and Avery squeezes in.
Then he’s under the water and I’m rubbing his back with the soap, usually I don’t like the smell of Irish Spring but Avery says oh, that feels so good, oh. So then I hold him from behind, breathing with his breath, I like the way his body feels so solid. Kissing his neck with my eyes closed, searching the way skin becomes little hairs and salt and moisture and breathing until Avery turns around and reaches for the back of my neck with his hands and I’m watching the way his eyelashes are so thick and long, those big brown eyes almost orange in this light he’s staring right into my eyes and what does he see, I mean there’s so much there between our eyes my hands on his neck too and then we just stand there like that staring at each other with the water spraying into our eyes until he pulls me toward him like we’re in a movie, oh this movie is nice and wet and warm or maybe cold yes cold until I pull Avery toward me, and I turn off the water.
So we don’t get too cold, I say, and then I kiss his lips just once and he kind of shudders, then again, and then we’re kissing each other and laughing, I’m rubbing the sides of his head and he’s holding my back, squeezing me squeezing him and I’m letting go, squeezing again, that feeling between my legs even though I know I’ll never get hard still that feeling, his lips something to taste, tongue into his mouth how far does it go? And then someone pulls the shower curtain back, and there goes our movie. Now it’s just coked-out Joey saying: Oh. That’s what’s going on. I’m. Leaving.
Joey slams the door and Avery looks embarrassed, reaches for the towel, hands it to me. You go ahead, I say. I’m glad you joined me in the shower. And Avery smiles. He’s actually really cute with his curly hair all matted and those eyes oh those eyes, maybe if we were on ecstasy all the time we could be boyfriends. He hands me the towel. I don’t know if I’m ready to leave the shower, but somehow Avery’s already dressed. What time is it?
Avery looks at his watch, I guess it’s waterproof: 3:25.
Oh, it’s still early. Are you really leaving?
I guess so. If Joey’s still here.
After Avery leaves I stare at the light bulbs on the vanity and let my eyes roll back. I’m drying myself off, and Polly comes in. Alexa, she says, it’s so hot in here, Alexa, it’s so hot, I can’t stand it. Polly’s splashing water on her face, and I open the window wider. She looks at me, but I can’t really see her eyes because her face is shifting so fast and is that the light? Polly’s staring in the mirror like she doesn’t know what’s on the other side, and then there’s that knock on the door no it’s in the door that becomes a laugh track, yes, Josh Wink, yes, Josh Wink, the laugh track, I love this track.
And Polly says don’t laugh, and then the beat crawls up the wall and into the ceiling and back down into the floor yes the floor and Polly says it again, don’t laugh, and yes, you’re right, that’s what it’s called—I love this song, but wait, is that the child’s piano from the Osheen song, climbing up the wall with a brigade of horn players and then Polly says it again, don’t laugh, is that Polly or is that the music and then static in the mirror yes static I’m holding the sink shaking my head into this world of broken laugh-track static magic and there’s the knock again, inside or outside a heartbeat a tin can a drum and then the build I’m shaking it out for the mirror I’m shaking it out for the lights I’m shaking it out for that chirping cricket crack it jack it racket attack it smack it, and right then the beats break open and everything goes right back to eating ice cream off the floor, I mean I’d lick the floor, I’d lick the floor right now because Sage is a fucking genius—I wish the Loft wasn’t closed, maybe Joey was joking.
And Polly says Alexa, do you believe in hell?
What?
She turns toward me, her face all red: Do you believe in hell?
Of course not. Polly, are you okay?
Alexa. I just want to know. How you know. That we are not. Going to burn in hell.
And then Polly starts to shake, and I wrap the towel around myself so I can put my hand on her back. She’s really sobbing. Polly, it’s okay, I say, it’s okay, that’s just your parents, it’s brainwashing, it’s bullshit, there is no hell, you’re not going to burn, and she looks at me and says Alexa, I don’t want to go. And I’m not sure if she means she doesn’t want to leave this house, or she doesn’t want to go to her parents’ house, or she doesn’t want to go to hell.
Finally she says Alexa, I have to go. I bought a ticket.
You don’t have to go.
Polly leaves the room and at first I think maybe I’m not high anymore, but then I close my eyes and oh, yes, this is where I want to stay, can’t I just stay here with warm water on my hands, yes, little currents going up my arms and into my head and should I get back in the shower?
But I have to go out there for Polly so I better get dressed. Clothes are weird—too much fabric, I wonder why everyone wears clothes all the time. My hair, how am I going to fix my hair? Oh, gel.
Luckily when I get back in the living room Sage is taking a hit off a huge bong, she hands it to me while holding her breath and yes, just what I need. I look at Polly and she seems calmer, and then Lisa shows up in her platforms—those are the platforms I want, combat boots with six inches extra. But I don’t want to look like I’m copying Lisa.
Lisa’s carrying another pitcher of Kool-Aid. This one’s lime green, and I wonder if there’s acid in it, but mostly I’m thinking about these drums and chants rolling around in the background but is the music getting quieter? I look around to see if anyone else notices. Until it’s so quiet that you can hear Juniper laughing from the other room, or maybe that’s in the song, I’m looking around to see and then suddenly the volume goes way up and it’s “get somebody you need somebody”—oh honey, oh honey, this is so good, we should come here every night.
Juniper comes out with the little glittery ecstasy box, waving it in her hand like celebrity is here, a round of applause for celebrity. Then she takes out a capsule, pulls it open and somehow Sage is there with a mirror to catch the powder, Lisa sweeps it into five small lines and I’m looking at Polly like is this really happening but she’s got her eyes closed, nodding to the beat. Juniper hands me a purple straw and says ladies first and oh yes oh yes I didn’t expect it to burn I mean I know it’s a waste to snort ecstasy but what an amazing waste and Polly shakes her head no, I’m fine—that’s a first—and then I can’t help staring at the last line until Juniper hands the straw back to me.
Are you sure?
Oh. Honey. It’s the least we could do. We invited you over. And then abandoned you.
So it’s time for the left nostril—this might be the best moment of my life as Sage hands me the magical lime elixir and I drink the rest and then walk toward the bathroom and go right to the mirror—hone
y, my eyes are gone.
Back in the living room Juniper is waving around a sparkly jelly snake, where the hell did you get that, and Polly’s twirling around with her eyes closed and yes, here it comes again, “X, X, X—trava—ganza.”
Have you seen this, Sage says, and she starts bouncing a big silver ball that lights up every time it hits the ground and honey, this is too good, and there’s the vocal slowing, slowing, slowing down until it stops, and now everyone’s so tall. Suddenly we’re heading downstairs in a hurry and out into the night air, oh the air, you didn’t tell me about the air, and there’s no one around. I take Polly’s hand because she looks a little scared, are you okay?
The way the deepest part of the night is so blue your eyes in the sky and we’re walking and walking and walking, turn, yes, Tremont has never seen anything like our sidewalk glidewalk—watch out for the cars, only a few, even that guy up ahead who’s staring. Of course he’s staring. What’s not to stare at? I love the way someone arranged these buildings like little toys.
Somehow Juniper and Sage are way up ahead, how did they get so far ahead, and now they’re running back from the Loft in excitement and Juniper says Joey was right, there’s a padlock on the door—I just had to know, I just had to know if Joey was lying.
Polly’s shivering and suddenly I realize I’m freezing too, and just like that a taxi arrives, we open the door and it smells like cinnamon, peppermint, chocolate chip cookies, vomit, Pine-Sol, oh, soft warm seats and then into the tunnel of love I love this tunnel and Polly says I’m sorry I got so dramatic earlier.
THE REST OF MY LIFE
All Polly’s note says is “Have some coke and a smile,” but I keep staring at it like it’s going to tell me why she isn’t back yet, I mean she’s four days late and Joey and I keep calling her parents’ house but no one answers. Joey thinks we should drive down there. To Bel Air, Maryland? We don’t even know the address. Should we just look it up in the phone book under Christian fundamentalist cults?
Joey says we should get cocktails, we can talk about it over cocktails.
I don’t want cocktails, I want to figure out what’s going on. I want to figure out why the fuck she isn’t back yet. This is ridiculous.
Well, you’re not going to figure it out by not drinking.
Okay fine, fine, let’s get cocktails. Do you want to call Avery?
I told him you’re a whore, and now he’s embarrassed.
Did you tell him you’re a whore too?
Alexa, it’s different.
What’s the difference?
I’m just doing it for extra spending money.
Did you tell him you got arrested for extra spending money?
I didn’t get arrested—they took me in for questioning.
Oh, that’s interesting—because when you called Polly, you said you needed bail—and I’m the one who went down there to rescue your fucking ass. I didn’t even know you had a thing for Avery.
Alexa, I don’t do Asian.
Joey, that’s disgusting.
I’m just being honest.
That’s not honest, it’s racist bullshit.
Why are we fighting?
We’re not fighting—I’m just telling you that you’re a fucking tired bitch.
Okay, I’m a fucking tired bitch. Let’s get cocktails.
I must really be a mess, because somehow Joey convinces me to take the T to Back Bay just to go to Club Café—this has to be the worst gay bar in Boston, I mean there’s so much competition but I can’t believe these snotty bitches who won’t even look at you in the bar but then you go to the bathroom and suddenly they’re cruising your cock, probably because the bar is renovating so the bathroom is downstairs by the gym and these bitches think no one will notice. Everything in Boston is about no one noticing. I’m cruising the bathroom anyway but after my fourth cocktail all I can think about is coke, so Joey and I take a cab back to East Boston and Polly was right when she said have some coke and a smile, this is the best coke I’ve ever done. Except for that time when we did the government coke study, and everyone knows the government has the best coke. But you had to sit in a hospital room for two hours with electrodes attached to your head, filling out a multiple-choice questionnaire on the computer that said things like: A) I feel on top of the world. B) I’m feeling pretty good right now. C) I’m starting to get depressed. D) I feel like nothing in my life is going right. E) I’m feeling suicidal.
So you filled out those questions over and over, and guess what? Eventually you were marking D) I feel like nothing in my life is going right. And, yes, even E)—I just love scientific studies that tell you what you already know. At least they paid us $100, but it would’ve been much better if they’d given us a bump or two for the road.
Anyway, after this coke I feel on top of the world. It’s almost like ecstasy it’s so good—I’m ready to dance but Joey wants to look through Polly’s stuff to see if we can find any clues. She’s already in Polly’s room, opening up the drawers of the desk and I figure she’s looking for the address of the cult but when I get in the room she has six vials of coke lined up on top of the desk.
Where did she get all this, Joey keeps asking. Where did she get all this?
I’ve already told her Polly has a trick who pays her in coke, but now Joey says: I should be a chick with a dick. You are a chick with a dick.
Joey goes in the other room, so I figure I better stash that coke somewhere safe, where should I keep it? Oh, in my multivitamins, Joey definitely won’t look there.
Now Joey’s at the makeup table, working Polly’s black bob. She already looks like someone’s messy eighties teenage daughter, I mean she could totally pass, and then the music’s on, why wasn’t the music on before? Oh, this song, I love this song—where did you find this?
Turns out Joey had one of Richie’s mixes in her pocket, waiting for just the right moment, and luckily we are waiting no longer. Four hours later and we keep turning it over, yes there’s the part where “Work me Goddammit” goes right into “Tyler Moore Mary,” and I know everyone in Boston is getting tired of that song, but honey, every time I hear “She works up the block, she lives up a block” I can’t help thinking yes, my life, that’s the story. Even if Joey is saying she’s Murphy Brown she’s scary—well, that’s true too. Another line, Candice?
Speaking of working, now Joey’s trying on Polly’s dresses—somehow they actually fit, even though Polly’s at least a foot taller. Oh, Joey, yes, the pink one, yes, prom queen, bring it on.
The music is back to “Eternity, because you’re ugly forever,” and Joey is saying Winona Spider. Winona Desire. Winona Tried Her. Winona Revive Her.
Winona Revive Her—that’s the one, Winona Revive Her.
Why-Own-It On Fire. Wino Ride Her. Why-No-No Mac-Gyver. Wyoming Mac-Jive-Her.
Joey’s on a roll, but then she starts freaking out because the sun is coming up so she rushes into the shower to wash away any hint of Polly’s makeup before getting on the T and just like that I’m crashing and where the hell is my pot, I can’t find my pot anywhere. Forget it—I cut up a Xanax and a doxepin and snort it with a little bit of coke, yes, perfect. And just because I’m the sweetest girl in East Boston, I make a shiny little silver origami envelope—cocaine-to-go, just for Joey and her shift at Glad Day. Finally she’s out of the shower and it’s my turn—oh, the shower, the shower will solve everything.
Except sleep, yes, sleep, I’m trying to focus on sleep, but really who am I kidding I mean why do I even have a bed? Sure, I like getting under the covers, but every time I start to drift into dreamland my body does that thing where I shake from inside like there’s a tiny earthquake and why does that keep happening?
Finally I give up and look at the clock, 1:30, too late to fall back asleep I mean I wasn’t sleeping anyway so I go in the dining room and sit at the table in my robe, trying to figure out what to do. What to do about Boston, what to do about my life, what to do about this horrible world, what to d
o about those stupid fucking kids outside, what are they doing out there already, I need a fucking cigarette and Polly isn’t even here smoking in my face, oh, where the hell is Polly? I mean she better get back here soon.
What to do about the weather, I can’t tell if it’s hot or cold out, what the fuck am I going to wear? What to do about religion, yes, what to do about all the horrible religious people in the world, and what about my acne, my body, I mean I hate this fucking body, or maybe I just need something to eat, but what? I’m not hungry, but should I eat something? What about music, I mean what should I play, I really can’t decide, all my CDs are crap. I try Moby but that’s too sad, Cajmere is too clanky, I can’t deal with that tired Danny Tenaglia mix. Billie Holiday? No, no, no. Memphis Minnie?
Wait, did Joey leave Richie’s mixtape? No, of course not, she would never forget something that gives her status. What is wrong with my head, oh, why does my head hurt so much? I’m not doing more coke.
And just like that, the phone rings—I grab it on the first ring, it must be Polly.
Oh, shit, my mother. I shouldn’t have answered. Usually Polly answers, and tells her I’m not here—what am I going to do without Polly?
My mother sounds so excited. She’s telling me I’m going to be so proud of her, I’m going to be so proud because she’s finally learned how to drive on the highway. Yes, really. Your mother is driving on the highway. Can you believe it?
And the fucked-up thing is that I actually do feel proud of her.
And then she says she’s been thinking about something I told her a long time ago, about how I was raped, and when she asked if it was someone in the family I said yes. She’s been thinking about that, because there was never anyone around.
And here’s the moment where my heart stops, I mean I can’t tell you about that moment I can only tell you about the moment after. Because my father’s on the phone, and he’s saying: Karla thinks you believe something sexual happened between us.
And I don’t know what to say.
Sketchtasy Page 9
