love
can
do.
Let her go find someone
else
maybe there’s someone
out there
that believes in that shit someone that goes for all that
Cinderella
Snow
White
Rapunzel
b.s.
Like that’s ever gonna happen.
Fucking fairy tales.
All they do is mess with our heads make us
believe
in the impossible make us
hope
when there’s nothing ….
She asks ‘bout my face. Looks better than you’d think. It’s one
big
purply-black
splotch like a tie-dye
shirt like the Milky Way
minus them shining
stars.
It aches
my face it
aches
but my insides
they ache
more.
I try to think
ice cubes
I picture
my
body my
head filled with
ice
numbing out my
heart my
mind.
She asks ‘bout my
pop.
Is he leaving me
alone?
Yeah he’s got other
interests to keep him
busy like throttling
Mom. Lucky for me huh?
She asks,
How’s the boxing going?
The boxing’s the only thing that’s
keeping
me
going.
She asks if I’m
all right ….
I don’t write
back but she don’t
complain that I
don’t she just keeps
asking me to
she keeps writing
every
day
writing
sending me those sayings and
yesterday’s note it said she’s sneaking
out
tonight
her parents are going to the ballet in Manhattan and she’s
sneaking out to the
bridge
she knows I’ll be
there it’s Saturday
night.
Tonight.
It’ll
all
be over
tonight.
Dorothy
Such a big crowd tonight, and so loud. It’s a miracle no one ever calls the cops about the noise. There’s houses around the corner on each side, and voices carry over water.
But they never get in trouble, they just hide their cans and bottles if patrol cars go by, and toss them if they have to. They can be as loud as they want, and no one stops them.
When I saw the crowd, something inside me cringed, and I wanted to turn around and go home.
I wished I could see him alone tonight.
Of course I didn’t leave. I walked into the noise, into the laughing, stoned voices. In a way I wish I wanted to be like them so I could do what they do and just blend in, but I don’t, and I can’t be something I’m not.
I’m searching for him.
I’m nudging my way through a sea of denim. Most of the faces I know and some of the names even, but I only want to talk to Joey. It’s been so long and I haven’t heard a word back from him. I’ve been telling myself that doesn’t mean anything, but if that’s true, maybe that’s worse.
He knows I’m coming. So where is he?
I see Jason finally. He shrugs when I ask about Joey except to point more toward the center. I brush some more past bodies holding bottles and glowing cigarettes. I take in a big a whiff of smoke, cough, and then I see Jimmy and his girlfriend Shana. They say they just saw Joey a minute ago, he can’t be far.
Then I find him, suddenly he’s right there in my path, at the end of my path, leaning against the bridge railing. I see his bruises. Even in this bad lighting with only the one streetlight beaming nearby, even like this he’s discolored. “Hey,” I say, but he doesn’t say anything back. I reach for him, I grab him up in my arms and he hugs me back, but it’s not like always. He’s stiff. There’s something wrong.
I knew there was something wrong, going all this time without an answer, without any reply at all. I tried to tell myself different, but I knew.
Really, I knew all along, from the beginning—that there was something wrong. I just thought we could get past it.
But there’s something in his vibe that’s changed, it’s holding me back even as he holds me, it’s keeping me away ….
“Joey, what is it?”
Then I feel it press into the small of my back. It’s a bottle. It’s a bottle he’s holding and it’s bigger than a beer bottle.
Fuck.
He’s back to the rum.
“It’s nothing ….I’m just ….” His Bacardi breath blasts me then. I want to be understanding. I know he’s been through so much, but the last time I saw him drinking that stuff I also saw him almost kill someone.
“When did you start drinking rum again?” I ask. Dammit, this isn’t the conversation I wanted to have. I missed him so much, I guess I didn’t want any conversation. I just wanted to feel him again.
But I can’t let this go.
He sighs. “Lay off me.”
Lay off of him. He hasn’t seen me in ten days, and this is what I get? Why wasn’t he looking forward to being with me? Why couldn’t I mean more to him than drinking?
I pull out of his arms.
It doesn’t take much effort, he was barely there anyway.
I look him in the eyes. They’re impossible to read. It’s like he’s closed off access, like he’s changed the keycode or something.
I say, “I missed you.”
He looks away, says nothing. What the hell is wrong with him? It’s more than just the drinking ….
I say soft, “Can we go somewhere?”
He says hard, “Why? So you can lecture me about what a bad boy I am?”
Oh god. “No ….”
His voice is like the steel we’re standing on. His breath—it pokes at me, it thrusts at me like crackling flames, like fire. I’m cornered, I’m melting from its heat.
He bellows, “Save it, okay? ‘Cause I don’t wanna be saved.” People are staring now, between him raising his voice, and me crying. I didn’t even realize I was crying, until a tear rolled into my mouth.
He says, “Why don’t you go home, Dorothy? Why don’t you go back behind them gates where it’s nice and safe and there’s no way for me to get past, there’s no way for big bad me to get to you, to huff and to puff and blow your life in.”
I can’t speak. I make this croaking, choking sound.
He says, “Go back where you belong, Dorothy. You can’t change me—you saw my genes—you got a real good look at them, didn’t you.” He moves in on me now, he’s against me, his chest is pounding against mine, and he’s scaring me. His eyes, they’re cold and blank. He’s leaning on me; he puts his hands out, he touches my shoulders, and then for one second I think he’s going to hold me, fold me into his arms, laugh, say this was a big joke.
Instead, he shoves me.
I stumble back, I almost fall.
“Go home,” he says.
Oh god, I want to die.
Joey
I shoved her
it took
everything I
had I
pushed her real
rough
and that was it.
I knew that would be it.
She’s
hysterical she’s
bumping
by all the people who were
watching us like a
freak show
she’s heading pretty fast for someone
crying
<
br /> so
hard.
I take another swig of Bacardi it’s only my
third I had
two so I could
smell like I been drinking it. I take another now and it tastes like
shit why the
hell do I
drink
this
stuff?
I can’t see her anymore she’s
gone
oh god
she’s
gone
this bottle it’s so
heavy
in my hand
I look out at the water
at the stupid ripples moving in the stupid
moonlight
all that water where’s it
go anyway what’s
the
point?
I pull my arm
back I
pitch
the rum
right out there in the
water it goes pretty
far before it
thunks
down and
splats right by a
duck
who flaps off like a
bat
out of hell.
I turn away
before I can see if it
sinks or floats.
Everyone’s still
staring at me
christ
they need to get a
life I yell out, Which one of you
losers
is gonna spot me a
six-pack?
Eleven
Joey
The sign outside the
church
has a message posted in those
plastic
letters.
It’s from Jesus.
It says,
When I was on the cross
I thought of
you.
Say that’s even
true. How’s that supposed to make me
feel? Now I gotta
feel bad ‘bout Jesus dying
personally
for me
on top of everything else?
Inside the rectory there’s lots of
statues and crosses they’re basically
everywhere
you turn. I ain’t been here since my communion but I remember all them statues
and
crosses you don’t forget stuff like that
things like statues and crosses they
loom.
There aren’t any
people
around but I hear
voices upstairs.
I don’t know if it’s the
tiles on the floor or the
emptiness of the hall but my
sneakers they squeal awful
loud.
I head through the door to the stairs. I go up up up
trying not to
squeak
but it’s like I been
tramping through the
tide or something like my sneakers are
soaked
the sounds I’m making.
My heart it’s like a
sledgehammer all of a sudden
clobbering away.
Stupid shit heart.
I don’t even know
why I’m here ‘cept
Doll she kept at me to
come and maybe I feel like I owe it
to her
even though she don’t know
I’m
here.
She can’t know.
This’s all
bullshit
anyways
all this AA crap but she
really
wanted me to come.
I keep seeing her
eyes
that night I pushed her they were so
confused so
hurt like a dog that’s been
kicked
by its owner.
The light it went out of her eyes.
It’s been more than three weeks and I can’t get them
dark
hurt
eyes
out of my mind
I lie in bed
all day
the summer’s almost half over but I
barely seen the sun I only see them
eyes so I thought,
I can at least
do this ….
Upstairs
they got the long tables around in a
circle. Someone says,
Welcome.
I stare at the smoky tiles I
nod.
I scrape
back
a chair I’d like to sit in the
back
but there ain’t no
back
to a circle.
They start the meeting and they go through all the stuff ‘bout the way AA works blah
blah
blah.
Then this guy gets introduced his name’s Rich and he looks kind of like
me
like the kind of dude I am
I mean
‘cept a few years older. He tells this story
his
story
‘bout how his family life sucked
his dad
he hit him and told him he wasn’t worth
shit he says the only relief he could get was in a
bottle or a
bong he says he was arrested twenty-six times by the time he was
twenty-one and it was getting so jail was more like
home than
home was.
He says he went to AA when he was twenty-two ‘cause it was
court
ordered and he still drank ‘cause he thought it was all
b.s. all this talk ‘bout
surrendering to a
higher
power
there was no way he was handing over the little control he had.
He says it went like that for almost a year he went to meetings
then he went out to
drink
and he figured
what the hell
this is my life
I’m gonna die young anyways.
Then one day he was walking to the liquor store
in the snow.
There was this humongous puddle of
slush at the
edge
of the curb and he
stopped and
stared into it.
He saw his
sorry-
ass
reflection looking back and
suddenly
he thought of
surrender.
All this time he’d fought it and
look
where it got him.
All this time he thought it was
bad
that it meant
defeat
to surrender
that there’d be
nothing
left of him
that it’d be the end.
But just like that the word
appeared in his head like someone
whispered it to him and he
fell
into the
freezing
puddle he
splattered in
on his knees
he spoke to God he
surrendered.
And that’s when he found
hope he found
faith that’s when everything
changed
when he caved
when he gave up the
burden
of trying to control what he
couldn’t
control
anyway
he felt it
lift from his shoulders and it all
changed.
He says he went back
home
‘stead of the liquor store that day and he’s be
en
sober
a year.
He says with surrender came
serenity.
He had me for a while and
damn he’s a lot
like me
but he lost me with that
puddle.
I ain’t
surrendering to nothing I can’t
see
these people they’re wacked I think they pickled their brains a little
too long.
Ole God
he had his chance to help me
long ago
didn’t he? Me my
mom my
brothers we surrendered
all right
we surrendered to
Pop
we didn’t have no choice and
where
was
God
then?
So now I’m supposed to
trust him
I’m supposed to turn
myself
over
to some dude that let us get
tortured?
I think,
Get
real.
I have to
stop myself from saying it out
loud.
Other people talk tell more stories ‘bout
surrender
‘cause that’s the topic Rich picked.
Me I’m kinda done
listening
I got more than my fill.
To finish
everyone holds hands
they say that
serenity
prayer
that’s stitched on pillows old ladies buy and lean against while they
sip their tea.
Then everyone says, Stay.
And that’s
the end.
I wanna do anything but
stay I’m practically
twitching
to escape but Rich he comes over he
shakes my hand.
He says he noticed I’m
new he noticed me
squirming
in my seat he says,
That was me
my first time.
He hands me his number
says to call
anytime
I wanna talk. Maybe he can
sense that I ain’t gonna
call maybe he knows I’m gonna head right out and
pop
open a Bud ‘cause he asks,
What did you think?
And I tell him the truth
why lie
I tell him I saw a lot of
me
in him
and that was cool but that
surrendering to God shit that’s gotta
go.
He laughs he says he likes my
honesty. He says it don’t have to be
God like in the Bible he says he don’t even read the Bible or nothing. He says it’s ‘bout faith in a power
greater
than
me
it can be in any form. He says it’s ‘bout
yin and
yang it’s ‘bout
karma it’s ‘bout
redemption it’s ‘bout
love.
Love.
That word
again.
Fuckin’ A.
I say,
Bro
I ain’t dropping in no puddle for
Melt Page 12
