Melt

by Selene Castrovilla

pushed to come but she’s too

  young to know better too

  innocent too

  unaware

  she was so goddamn unaware

  look

  what I did to her

  look

  what

  I

  did.

  I should say something but

  what? Everything’s so

  jumbled so

  scattered all I know is I hurt her but I

  can’t take back

  what I said

  it’s all I got to

  hold

  onto

  I can’t let go or I’ll head right

  off

  the

  cliff.

  Without my tears I feel

  hollow there’s an

  echo in my

  soul. I wonder if there’s

  anything

  else in me

  good or

  bad is anything left inside me at

  all?

  Doll

  she’s been holding me

  so

  long.

  I pick my head up strings of

  snot stretch from my nose they

  snap they fall

  back on her shoulder.

  I been crying on my Led Zeppelin shirt it’s my

  favorite. I face her and I have to say

  something

  anything but I just can’t I’m too

  tired.

  Then she looks at me and just like that it’s

  okay.

  I don’t have to tell her anything she

  knows.

  She knows

  it’s all there in her face

  she gets everything I’d say if only I had the

  strength

  she gets it all she

  knows.

  She strokes my hair feels so

  good like

  relief after my

  release

  then she says she needs to go.

  She says she needs to

  clean up

  go home

  her parents expect her for dinner. It’s almost dinnertime we came here at 9 a.m. and look at us now

  me with my bashed in

  face

  her with her bashed in

  innocence what a

  difference a day makes.

  Part of me wants to rush her

  out send her safely on her way but the other part the

  selfish part

  it wants to

  keep her by me ‘cause I’m so

  scared.

  I’m scared to be

  alone here

  I’m scared to shut my

  eyes tonight.

  I’m scared if she leaves I’ll never

  see her

  again

  and I’m scared that’s the way it

  needs

  to be.

  I say, Let’s get you in the shower.

  Dorothy

  I want Joey to leave, too. “What if he comes back?” I ask.

  He shakes his head slowly, painfully. “Pop ain’t coming home soon,” he says. “No way he’s cooking for himself, and if he’s eating out no doubt he’s drinking out too. He’ll be out late.”

  “But eventually ….” I can’t bear the thought of Joey alone here, a target waiting.

  It’s like he reads my mind. “Jimmy’ll be home, probably.”

  “Even if he is, what’s Jimmy going to do against your dad’s gun…”

  “He’s done with me for today, Doll,” he says. “I’ll be okay.”

  Okay is one thing he’s not. “Come home with me. We’ll tell my parents. They’ll call the police, and he’ll be arrested. All they have to do is look at your face ….”

  “Forget it. He’ll say I attacked him or something, and he did it in self-defense. He’s a cop and I’m a criminal. Cops believe their own,” he says.

  “I’ll tell them what he did to me, they’ll have to do something.”

  “I’ll be arrested. Statutory rape, remember?”

  “My parents aren’t going to press charges.”

  “Even if they don’t, they ain’t gonna let us see each other no more, that’s for sure.”

  I say nothing. He’s got me there.

  He folds me in his arms again and I suck in his scent. It soothes me a little, but not enough. I say, “I’m afraid he’s going to kill you.”

  He says, “He ain’t gonna kill me.”

  He says, “He ain’t gonna kill me tonight.”

  Joey

  So she cleans up she showers off my blood and both our snot and tears she’s good

  to

  go.

  ‘Cept for a few wrinkles in her blouse she looks the

  same as when she came in

  look at that

  she passes

  too.

  She fixes me up too she insists even though I tell her not to waste her time. She pats at my face with a washcloth trying not to

  hurt me

  and me

  I try not to show it

  hurts. She dabs on this antibiotic ointment she found in the medicine cabinet. Then she gets a London broil from the freezer she says to hold it to my lips.

  I walk her

  home

  icy steak pressed to my mouth with one hand

  her hand in the other.

  I don’t wanna take a chance on her parents seeing me like this so I

  stop at the end of her street

  I let go of her

  hand.

  She starts crying

  again I wipe her tears

  away I tell her

  don’t

  cry

  ‘cause her parents will see and they’ll ask

  questions and she nods and she sniffs and she

  stops.

  I move my meat from my mouth

  kiss her

  it don’t hurt so much my lips they’re cold they’re

  numb

  then I say she

  better

  go.

  She nods again and she

  does it.

  She heads off

  down her block with her

  head

  down

  and I watch with my prime cut of beef

  against my face

  I wonder if her

  head’ll ever

  pick

  up

  again

  I watch her turn

  right

  into her driveway.

  Good.

  She’s

  safe inside them

  gates that’s where she

  belongs on the other side of them

  bars thank god they’re nice and

  thick she’s

  safe.

  Goodnight Doll.

  Dorothy

  Halfway up my driveway I decide to tell them.

  I decide to tell my parents everything.

  They’ve been better, they’ve been coming around. And they’re shrinks, they have to have compassion for Joey with everything he’s been through, right?

  They’ll let us see each other, they’ve got to. Maybe not at first, but they’ll realize we belong together. They’ll realize what a great guy Joey is, especially if he gets away from his dad.

  That’s the important thing, he has to get away from his dad.

  No matter what else happens. Even if they do keep us apart.

  He needs to get away from his dad, and the rest will work itself out.

  Somehow it’ll all work out.

  I step inside my door and click the lock behind me. When I turn around, they’re there.

  Right there, side by side, arms crossed, glaring.

  Practically breathing down my neck.

  “Oh, you scared me,” I say. “What’s going on?”

  “Where were you today?” my dad says in a quite pissed voice.

  Shit! They know I ditched school. “Uh ….
” I struggle to come up with something.

  “We’ve been calling your phone,” Mom snaps. Damn. I had it on silent and never put the ringer back on.

  “Umm ….” I’m thinking and thinking and then I realize it really doesn’t matter ‘cause I’m going to tell them anyway. This is just more proof that I need to. So I start. “Well, it’s like this—”

  Mom cuts me off. “That’s the last time you’ll go anywhere near that Joey Riley, I’ll tell you that much.” Whoa. This isn’t good, for her to have this reaction before she even hears what happened. “Why?”

  “I have a good mind to have him arrested.”

  “For what?”

  “Kidnapping.”

  “Are you crazy? He didn’t kidnap me ….”

  “Unlawful imprisonment.”

  “Do you think I was chained up somewhere?” Funny, I was locked up, but not by Joey.

  I guess it’s not funny.

  I’d tell them if they’d let me. “Listen ….”

  “Statutory rape.”

  There it is again. It stops me; it’s the one truth we can’t escape. Why’d he have to turn eighteen? It’s like playing tag with no safe zone.

  “You’re having sex, aren’t you?”

  I face the golden-brown Spanish tile paving our hall because I can’t face them. I nod.

  “Oh my god, my baby,” Mom shrieks. She’s practically hyperventilating. Wow, this is getting way dramatic and I haven’t even gotten my story out yet. Aren’t shrinks supposed to be reasonable?

  My dad says, “Your mother dropped off your book bag at school—she saw you forgot it in your room.”

  I didn’t forget it, I just didn’t need it. Stupid, stupid. I should’ve taken it with me anyway. I’m not savvy at the art of cutting.

  He says, “But surprise, you weren’t there. And even bigger surprise, they said I’d called to say you were sick. So I gather your boyfriend impersonated me on the phone?”

  He did. “I have to tell you something important …,” I say, but now Dad cuts me off. Now, he’s got a lot to say.

  He takes a breath in, goes on. “Your mother canceled her sessions for today so she could search for you. Who knew—you might have been abducted.”

  Big breath. Then, “The people at the school said you were probably skipping school, that your mother shouldn’t worry about things like abduction. But she insisted that you wouldn’t do anything like that. She said she trusted you.”

  He sucks air in, blows out. “She looked up your boyfriend’s address and went over, but no one answered.” I heard nothing, no doorbell—but then, I’d been a little preoccupied. “And then she called Amy’s mother, who was absolutely appalled when she heard you were dating Joey Riley. She told her all about him ….” Shit. Amy’s mom is PTA president, and just like her daughter she knows everything about everyone. “About his drinking and drug use, his violence, his arrests, his jail time ….”

  Shit, shit, shit. He takes another breath, but before he can start in again, Mom bursts in. “I knew there was something wrong with him when I saw those hands.” She looks me direct in the eyes. “Does he hit you?”

  “Oh god no, he’s so gentle ….” My voice trails off in frustration. This was just what I’d wanted to tell them in the beginning, discuss with them—how Joey could be two different people. They’d been too busy shrinking me out.

  She shakes her finger at me. “Give him time, Dorothy. Boys like that, they’ll erupt all over anyone in their path.”

  Nice of the therapist to typecast him. I want to defend him, I want them to know all that Joey’s gone through, but all that comes out of my throat is, “No.” That’s all I can say, that’s all I can manage after what’s happened today. I want to curl up in a ball. I want to roll up in myself and hide, take refuge.

  I can’t believe they’re judging Joey like this.

  But why can’t I? It’s not like they fawned all over him before.

  I was so dumb, to think they’d want to help him.

  No one wants to help him. Not even him.

  Mom and Dad are both lashing out at me now, about Joey. Talking over each other about how horrible he is. They don’t even care why, why he acts like he does. If they gave it a thought they’d be bound to come up with some kind of educated guess—it’s their jobs.

  Aren’t shrinks supposed to care why?

  “Bottom line, young lady—you are forbidden to see him again,” says Dad.

  I want to tell them to go fuck themselves, but I just don’t have it in me. I brush past them, head for the stairs, head for my room.

  Joey

  I stare up from my bed at the ceiling. I wanna sleep but I

  can’t

  shut

  my eyes.

  I just stare stare stare hoping to

  drop

  off.

  I drank the beer I had. Four or five bottles who remembers whatever it was it wasn’t

  enough.

  But I sure don’t have what it takes to

  haul out of this bed go out and get more.

  No way.

  I lie in the dark

  sore

  as

  shit

  my steak’s on the floor

  thawing

  probably halfway done by now at

  least

  I couldn’t hold it on me

  no

  more.

  I stare at the bare

  ceiling I ripped down the poster when I got back home.

  Even in the dark I could

  see

  her

  up there and right now

  I can’t take nothing ‘cept

  clear

  blank

  nothing.

  That’s all I wanna look at.

  Nothing.

  He came home ‘bout eleven put on that goddamn Sinatra. He’s down there knocking back whiskey

  blasting

  “My Way.”

  Jimmy he ain’t home at least I don’t think so I didn’t hear him. Good for him

  if he’s got somewhere to

  crash. I couldn’t do that with

  Doll I couldn’t take that

  chance that her parents would walk in ….

  Doll.

  There she is

  again.

  I been thinkin ‘bout her

  all

  night

  trying to think of a way

  trying to think of

  some

  other

  way

  but there’s none.

  I gotta cut her loose I

  can’t take the chance he’ll lay his dirtbag hands on her

  again I gotta protect her she’s gotta

  go.

  I gotta break up with her and it’s gotta be mean and firm I gotta make her

  hate

  my

  guts.

  I stare up up up at

  nothing

  picture life without her

  Sinatra goes on and on ‘bout how he did it

  his way

  I can’t

  shut

  my eyes.

  Dorothy

  I lie in bed, pillow pressed to my chest, eyes closed tight.

  Is he all right?

  All the other stuff, it sucks, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll find a way, as long as he’s

  all right.

  I can’t remember the last time I prayed, but I do it now. “Please, God,” I whisper into the dark. I squeeze my eyelids shut. I can’t face the night, there’s been too much night in this day already. “Please, watch over him.”

  Joey comes into my head; I see him sprawled in his bed. Battered, alone.

  It doesn’t have to be this way.

  “Please take care of him, God. Love him for me, until he lets me.”

  Ten

  Joey

  Ten days.

  I ain’t seen her in

  ten

  days.

  A
ll this waiting it’s

  torture

  to me

  to her

  Doll she’s waiting to

  touch me

  hold me

  me I’m waiting to do what I

  gotta

  do.

  She sends me notes from school she gives them to Jimmy she writes

  one a day

  I got three on Monday night.

  She can’t call

  her parents they took her

  cell

  and they got her friends’ parents to check phones and even double

  check their cell bills online for

  deleted

  calls to me.

  She puts in these

  quotes from

  poets

  inventors

  people that changed the world and

  shit she copies them into her

  notes

  trying to pep me

  up she’s like a cheerleader for the

  soul.

  Rah rah

  you can do it you can

  fix

  your

  life.

  Right.

  Like you can

  hammer

  in some nails

  tighten

  up those loose

  beams

  like you can

  patch

  the rotting floorboards in your

  head.

  What’s next

  one of those

  Jesus

  was a carpenter

  speeches?

  My life

  it’s way too far

  gone

  for repairs the whole

  foundation it’s unstable it’s

  decaying

  I can’t take the chance of letting her

  walk around in it anymore you never know what’s gonna

  collapse next the whole

  ceiling might come down on her

  I might

  bury her

  in my rubble.

  My life

  it’s been condemned.

  She writes ‘bout AA she says maybe I could just go and

  listen

  maybe it could

  help me.

  She lists meeting days and times at the church give me a

  goddamn

  break

  like those washouts could

  possibly have

  anything

  to say they talk in

  bumper

  stickers.

  She asks me to write back

  at the end of every note she

  asks.

  I wanna

  so

  bad

  but I don’t.

  It’ll only make it harder if I do.

  For me

  for her.

  She don’t write

  love

  at the end.

  She don’t write it but

  it’s there

  all the same.

  What does she

  think I am

  stupid?

  It’s not her fault she don’t know any better what