Love Over Moon Street

by Saxon Bennett

  “You don’t have to do that,” Sparky said.

  “It would be like the barter system and…” Vibro looked away. Tears were forming. “I might need something to keep my mind off things.”

  “I’d put you on the payroll. Then I could start refinishing the baseboards and replacing all the fixtures. And I still have the bathroom to redo. It needs a new tub, sink and toilet. Mr. Agassiz wants this apartment up and ready by the end of July. It would defray the cost of new furniture.”

  “How fortuitous,” Vibro said, wiping at her eyes.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Sparky retrieved the chain saw from the maintenance shed. They went upstairs to Vibro’s apartment. The place was a disaster. There were black trash bags full of Jennifer’s clothes, a box full of cosmetics, a few knickknacks and back issues of Cosmo and People magazines.

  Vibro stood looking with her. “You know, I seriously made an effort to get all her stuff and this is it—a few Hello Kitty figurines and magazines. It was like she was staying here and only marginally interested in doing that—you know like when you were in college and you kind of inhabited places, but you didn’t really live in them? Does that make sense?”

  “Yes,” Sparky said. After her girlfriend Kate had cheated on her and Sparky moved out, she’d lived in Redmond. That had been its own special hell as they had been each other’s first loves. It hadn’t been the cheating, but the realization that they’d outgrown each other that hurt the most. She lived for six months in an old army barracks converted into three apartments. It was quite spacious and she hadn’t had nearly enough furniture to fill it up. She’d existed there until Wesson came along and filled up the void.

  Vibro had lined up the furniture in cutting order with the two end tables first, followed by the coffee table, a small entertainment center, one love seat, one couch. She pulled out the list again. “Okay, I have to give her one of the lamps, I think we’ll just cut the floor lamp in half, a set of sheets, I’ve already cut those in half, and the towels. She wasn’t interested in the dishware, but I threw in some broken crockery just the same. And then her clothes, I didn’t cut those in half. Thank God for separate bank accounts and credit cards.”

  “Wow, it’s not like you don’t trust her,” Sparky said as she studied the furniture. The end tables were going to be a breeze.

  Vibro stopped and stared at her. “That’s what this all comes down to, you know. I never could trust her. I never thought she’d get a lawyer, but knowing her she probably fucked one and now has her on retainer.”

  Sparky tried not to smirk.

  “I mean, look at us, you and your eye and me and my cheating whore of a girlfriend. I thought women were better than that.”

  Sparky thought her eye was improving. It still had broken blood vessels, but at least now it looked more like a case of pink eye than a full-blown alien attack that had manifested itself in her eye and would soon result in her head exploding and an alien face complete with poor dental work bursting out of it. She touched her eyelid.

  “Don’t get me wrong, it looks much better. The first time I saw you I thought you might be an alien.”

  Sparky hadn’t been incorrect about the alien thing. The problem with having blue eyes was that people noticed them more. When one eye was a startling mass of broken blood vessels, it looked weird—in the early days it had frightened her when she got up in the morning and looked in the mirror. She had forgotten over the course of the night what had happened to it.

  “It feels better, but I know what you mean—how did we get to this place? We are nice enough people. We deserve better,” Sparky said.

  Vibro sat on the edge of the soon-to-be-cut-in-half couch. “Why did you stay so long?”

  Sparky thought. It was not an easy question. She’d spent a lot of her time obsessing over it. She wasn’t one for failure and she wasn’t a quitter. She tried to explain. Maybe saying it out loud would help her come up with a better answer. “Love can make you overlook a lot of things…initially.”

  “And then what happens?” Vibro said. She patted the couch next to her. “We might as well enjoy its final day as a fully formed couch.”

  Sparky sat. Vibro smelled of tea tree. Sparky knew that because she’d seen the soap in one of the grocery bags she’d helped Vibro carry upstairs one day after she’d gone shopping and Jennifer was nowhere to be found, as usual.

  “I think it becomes habit. I couldn’t imagine my life without Wesson in it. I was twenty-two when I met her. We kind of grew up together. I had some stories about my life without her in them, but now not many. I kept thinking—how could I have another lover and not bring Wesson into it because my past has so much of her in it? How was I going to stop telling ‘we’ stories?”

  “What do you mean?” Vibro said. She picked at the edge of the couch. It was covered in black leather. Her fingernail left a line behind, like a scrape on skin.

  “You know, how couples talk in ‘we did this, we did that, we went there.’ You’re together so long you become one. People used to call us ‘the girls,’ as if we were one entity. How do I walk away from that?”

  Vibro frowned. “Despite Jennifer and me having a commitment ceremony and swearing undying love we never melded like that. I’m not entirely certain I ever loved her. Maybe it was lust turned to compliance. It was easier to have a girlfriend than not.”

  “I also think inertia sets in,” Sparky said.

  “We are too inert to get up and out?”

  “Exactly, it’s easier to stay.”

  “Until they do something so bad that neither love nor inertia can overlook it,” Vibro said.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it hard being alone after having someone for so long?” Vibro looked uncertain.

  Sparky touched Vibro’s hand. It was so smooth and soft. “You get used to it. Moving in here and having you all around helps a lot. I think being a Moonie is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Better than discovering you were a lesbian?” Vibro said, putting another scratch in the couch.

  It made Sparky think of Vibro’s nails running down her back. She shoved the image away. Now was hardly the time, she remonstrated. “Well, pretty close. I think being a lesbian Moonie is the best thing.”

  “I can do this, right?” Vibro said.

  “We don’t have to cut the furniture in half.”

  “Not that. Leave Jennifer.”

  “Yes, you can. Vibro, I don’t think you can live with the fact that Jennifer cheated on you and most likely more than once.”

  Vibro studied her hands. “I know I can’t. I never completely trusted her, but now I can’t trust her at all.”

  “Once trust is gone there isn’t anything left.”

  “I don’t think Jennifer is ever going to see it that way, especially after I cut up the furniture. Which I wouldn’t do if she hadn’t gotten a lawyer.”

  “You’d have just given her half?” Sparky said.

  “No,” Vibro said indignantly. “I bought this furniture. I paid most of the bills. I wouldn’t have given her anything.”

  “Okay. Then let’s get to it.” Sparky got up.

  Vibro nodded and gave the couch a pat. “I’m going to miss you, old friend,” she told the couch.

  Sparky put on her safety glasses and picked up the chain saw. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “For sure?” Sparky said. “I wouldn’t think any less of you if you changed your mind.”

  “Nope, let’s do it.”

  “Start with the end tables?”

  “Yes.” Vibro gave them a goodbye pat as well.

  “For sure?”

  “Yes, damnit.”

  Sparky yanked on the pull cord. She half-hoped it wouldn’t start. It started on the first pull as if to flout her doubts and acknowledge Vibro’s desires. She started in on the end table. The noise of the saw reverberated through the apartment and sawdust drifted around, catching the light and looking like s
and-colored dust motes.

  She glanced at Vibro, who appeared to be flipping the universe the bird. She was standing in the middle of the living room, the sawdust floating around her head and her middle fingers raised high. Vibro smiled broadly.

  Sparky smiled back and cut the second end table. Its two pieces fell with a clunk. Vibro did the slash motion across her neck. Sparky thought she’d had enough already. She shut down the chain saw—part of her was disappointed, but her better side decided it was a good idea to end the task before it got out of hand.

  “Can I do the coffee table?” Vibro said.

  Sparky looked dubious. “Have you ever used a chain saw?”

  Vibro shook her head. “But surely you can teach me.”

  Sparky sighed. “I suppose I could. You realize they are extremely dangerous. You could cut off your leg if you’re not careful.”

  “I’ll be careful. I am not giving Jennifer half the furniture and one of my legs.”

  “I read this story once where the protagonist’s girlfriend wanted her to cut off her right arm and she did it,” Sparky said.

  “That is sick and wrong.”

  “The whole book of short stories was sick and wrong. I don’t miss that book.”

  “I hope Wesson doesn’t read it. She might want your arm.”

  Sparky laughed. “Me too.”

  “Show me how to use it.”

  “Okay, hold it first so you get a feel for it. Now you’ll cut like this and never get the saw too close to you. Always keep it away from your body,” Sparky said.

  Vibro held it and mimicked Sparky’s motions.

  “This is the kill switch. You get nervous or feel uncomfortable, hit the kill switch and everything stops.” She handed Vibro the safety glasses.

  “I wish life had a switch like that. You could stop everything, reevaluate and then resume when you’re ready,” Vibro said.

  “I’d take a dress rehearsal while we were at it. Oops, sleep with that one and run. Oh, sleep with this one and stay,” Sparky said.

  They both laughed. “Ya think,” Vibro said. “Now, start this bad boy up for me.”

  Sparky started the chain saw and handed it to Vibro mouthing the words, “Be careful.”

  Vibro studied the coffee table to ensure she got it right in half. Sparky smiled at her efforts. She made a clean cut, sawdust everywhere and a sturdy clunk of the two halves of the coffee table and the thing was done. Vibro hit the kill switch, set the saw down and did a little jig. “That was so fun!”

  “Good work.”

  “With a little more practice I might just become a lumberjack,” Vibro said.

  “You’d have to butch up your wardrobe.”

  “I look okay in flannel and Levis. And I could always accessorize.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you do,” Sparky said. She looked at the floor. There was sawdust everywhere. “We should have put a tarp down. Let me get the shop vac and a tarp before we tackle the rest.”

  “Good idea. Let’s take down a load of Jennifer’s half of the furniture and stick them on the curb so we’ll have more room.”

  Vibro grabbed half of each end table, Sparky grabbed half of the coffee table and they carried them downstairs.

  Sparky went to the maintenance shed and rummaged around until she found the tarp, which she gave to Vibro. The shop vac she got out of her truck and hauled upstairs.

  “Perfect,” Vibro said after she’d vacuumed up the sawdust and they’d put down the tarp. “I want you to know I really appreciate this.”

  Sparky laughed.

  “What?”

  “Anytime you want me to help you cut up your furniture—you can count on me.”

  This time Vibro laughed.

  “Let’s do this incrementally,” Sparky said.

  “Meaning?”

  “The love seat first.”

  “Okay.”

  They put the love seat on the tarp and removed the seat cushions.

  “Should we measure to make sure we get half?” Vibro said.

  “Naw, I can eyeball it.” Sparky started the chain saw, calculated half and cut. It was easier than she thought, although she’d never thought about sawing furniture before. With the pillows removed she had only to saw the frame and the backing. She kept sawing until the love seat was in two pieces. She turned the engine off and glanced over at Vibro, who was looking disconcerted. “What’s wrong?”

  Vibro was furtively glancing over Sparky’s shoulder.

  “I brought them up because I heard your voice,” Pen said, and then in a lower tone, “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.”

  Frank and Adele McAlester stared at their daughter, who was filleting furniture. Adele said, “Wesson told us you’d gone off the deep end.”

  “Mom, it’s not like that,” Sparky said, putting down the chain saw. “I’m just helping Vibro divide up her possessions. She’s in the middle of a nasty breakup.”

  “I have to give the cheating Jezebel half of everything,” Vibro explained.

  Frank nodded. “I’d say that’s a very unusual way to deal with the reallocation of one’s assets.”

  “Thank you. Sparky isn’t crazy, by the way,” Vibro said.

  “She’s the most normal person I’ve ever met,” Pen piped in. Sparky didn’t think that was saying much considering Pen’s past, but she appreciated the sentiment. Right now she needed character references.

  Adele gave Sparky the once-over. “What happened to your eye?”

  Vibro looked at Sparky and Sparky looked at Pen and they all looked at each other. “Just tell her. It’ll clear things up maybe,” Pen suggested.

  Vibro nodded her agreement. “Would it be easier if I told her?”

  “Or I could,” Pen offered.

  “Will someone just tell me,” Adele said, throwing her arms up in the air.

  “Wesson bit my eye.”

  “Why did she do that?” Adele said, her face coloring.

  “We got into a tussle,” Sparky replied. She omitted the reason they’d gotten into the fight in the first place—she’d told Wesson she went to the dentist more often than she got laid.

  “A tussle?” her father asked. “And was it the first time?” he added.

  Sparky figured that Uncle Milton had alluded to certain things. There had been other scrapes and scratches that couldn’t always be hidden.

  “No, it wasn’t the first time,” Sparky replied.

  Adele stared hard. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I was embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be,” Frank said.

  Pen inspected the cut pieces of the love seat. “I’ve never seen the inside. It’s cool.”

  Frank went over to Pen and peered down at the love seat. “It appears to have been well-made furniture.”

  “I believe in buying value,” Vibro said.

  Adele was still staring at her daughter and chewing her lower lip—a sure sign of mental distress.

  “Mom, I’m fine, really. I’m not crazy,” Sparky said, putting her arm around her mother’s waist. Adele McAlester was a petite dark-haired woman with blue eyes and a heart-shaped face. She was as trim as a twenty-year-old and almost as sprightly.

  “I know, honey. I thought Wesson might be full of rat patootie and I knew Milton wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” Adele said.

  “Mom, have you been by the house?” Sparky watched as Adele stiffened. She thought she saw a tear, but Adele swatted it away.

  “We have,” Frank said, and he winked. “And a nice bit of business, I’d say.”

  Vibro and Pen stood quiet. Sparky had told them the story. She was glad they were here—it would be harder for her mother to make a scene. Adele was always very correct in the presence of others.

  “I was going to tell you before you got back. The city sent out notices and Uncle Milton and I had to do something or there was going to be a big fine and…” Sparky knew she was rambling. “We donated all the stuff to the Goodwill. I got receipts for y
our taxes.”

  “It was probably that Claudia Peterson. She’s always hated my garage sales. I think she was envious,” Adele said.

  “Well, now that we’re on the road so much, it makes sense that we leave off the garage sale. I’m just sorry that you and Milton had to take care of it. It was probably for the best,” Frank said. He winked again and smiled at Sparky. It was his I-owe-you-my-eternal-gratitude smile.

  “I was going to come back and rid myself of all that cosmic debris. The keeping of stuff can be very stifling to one’s aura. According to Runs Without Scissors divesting yourself of excess baggage allows for growth and mobility,” Adele said.

  “Who is Runs Without Scissors?” Sparky inquired. She glanced over at Pen and Vibro, who were watching this exchange from both sides of the now divided love seat. It was still standing despite being in two pieces.

  “She’s an Athabaskan woman who lives in Nabesna up in St. Elias National Park. I’ve got to tell you girls, the scenery up there is first class. I’ve got some incredible photographs of the place,” Frank said.

  “He bought himself one of those digital cameras,” Adele said.

  Sparky’s parents had the uncanny habit of answering the other person’s question. It was like watching the television show Jeopardy only the person who rang the buzzer didn’t answer the question, the person at the next podium did. Sparky wondered what Pen and Vibro made of it.

  “Your mother got her to cleanse her spirit,” Frank said.

  “Your father took pictures.”

  “So all the stuff being gone is no longer an issue?” Sparky inquired, making sure she’d gotten the vibe thing straight. Living with Wesson made her question others’ intentions. They’d play a confusing game of yes means no—the old “What do you want me to do?” which was followed by the old “You should know.”

  “No longer an issue,” Frank said.

  “I concur. What are you going to do with this furniture after you’re done cutting it in half?” Adele said.

  “Put my ex-girlfriend’s half of it on the curb so she can pick it up, and live with my half until I figure out my new decor,” Vibro said.

  “I can help you load it down,” Frank said.