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Jenny felt just terrible for poor old Ange.
;-)
JENNY SAID: You broke the poor girl’s heart? Oh, Matt, how could you?
Ooh.
Ooh.
Ooh.
The train
cut across the Dutch countryside, on the way to Antwerp,
the sun
was setting behind those golden plains. A scattered
army of windmills we blew by was cast
in pink,
and orange. They waved their arms as we flew by. Angie and I sat across from each other, separated by a small white plastic table for the putting on of drinks, and the resting on of newspapers. We had not a penny to our names. Angie had a plane ticket home, but she wanted to stay together. So she’d spent the last of her money on a train ticket and a bit more weed, and we stayed all day downstairs in the lobby of the hotel, smoking and shoving the last of our change into the pool table. We didn’t have food. That was OK because we weren’t yet hungry. The hotel clerk gave us water. The train came and we boarded it.
The sun fell. Angie dozed. I sat with my head against the glass. Eight hundred hours to Antwerp. The farmlands rolled away.
A man got on and sat down next to me.
Red hair,
tan suit.
Paint brushes.
One ear.
Van Gogh!
Hello.
I want to die.
Do you?
I want to die so bad.
I did too.
I want to die so fucking bad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.
So what’s sssssssssss stopping you?
365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars 365. the stars
Me and Angie lay on a blanket behind the house. A dim point of light skimmed the sky above us, parting the still black night. See that light? she said. You know what it is?
—Do you want to?
Knock-knock.
What?
A satellite.
—Who’s there?
It’s not a satellite. You can’t see satellites from Earth.
—Do you think we should?
You can’t?
No.
Then what else could it be?
—A woman!
Who knows. Angel maybe?
fuck me now
Angie slapping the sides of my face—
WHAT DID YOU TAKE?
WHAT DID YOU TAKE?
Sweeping me off the kitchen floor, carrying me to bed, keeping me awake.
My head fucking hurts, Ange. It really fucking hurts.
Shhhhh…It’s all right, my Love. We’re together now.
kicked in the door
I am long but curl my shoulders in and try to shrink inwards then stretc
h my neck around so it doesn’t get stiff but still nothing works, and I let out a hee-hheehe-heee! and sit nervously. So she turns on the radio click and looks at me confusedly, and they play an old tin can orchestra where a woman sings high with a wobbly voice. I flip through the Journal of Painful Ills and listen backwardly to the tin naily music and behind the desk, she has stopped filing. There is a soft glow to this light, I don’t know why I am smiling this way, this odd smile. I imagine the singer in the center of the room with a sparkly dress and the wartime hair that has a definite shape and bobbed around with curls and ruby red lipstick and curvy hips but she sees me, wearing this suit and jacket but the black rain had caught me on the sidewalk and I am a mess. I am soaked through. I am hungry. Then there is no singer anymore, only the woman behind the desk, who I find staring at me. She looks worried. I may have been humming. Then I begin to laugh again, grinning slyly but with definite sorrow eyes. My head is tearing at the base and now I am squirming and sweating unbearably. My skin feels moldy and my eyes are hot. What time is it? I barely see the clock, but it is above the woman’s head.
: * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : * : * : * : * * : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : : * : * : * : * : * : * : * : At the snow, breathing hard. Ange got up, plucked the antenna off the floor, plugged it back in back of the TV. Sat back down, uplooked at the ceiling, Quiet now. Soft sounds of UpstairsMother crying. The dirty brown Thames flowed from yellow mouths. Cigarette leaves and rusty beer cans. Someone coughed and sighed. A crowd underflowing Londonbridge. Floating down the still and still I felt very very tired, and the room small and the walls and the Audience roared, I was breathing hard. All outnone in. Oh, shit. Too fast. Shit, It’s happening again. My head I got up.
—My brother told me what happened. Are you OK?
Fine.
—You look bad.
You should see them.
—I heard there were seven of them.
Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a fair fight. Why are you here?
—I just wanted to see if you were OK. I haven’t seen you in a long time.
I’m OK.
—I heard you hurt your head. Before. In the pool.
No big deal.
—Your face looks bad.
It’s fine.
—I was going to bring you a present but I didn’t know what to bring.
How about a cigarette.
—Here, she said.
Thanks, I said. I’ll smoke it after you leave.
One more minute, then I can leave and the man with the black hat will meet me to give me my check. The woman has changed. She twists her face and tears up. The gas must have made it to her side of the room. She tries to stay calm but she’s looking for a way out. She takes on an ugly shape and presses on her face in pain. I want to say I feel it as well but I don’t say it. She stands up, then—Bang!—her chair falls back and she tries to rush to the door, but she falls and mouths words but no sound comes out then a strange squealing sound and she turns her head and looks at me, trying to crawl across the carpet. She vomits brown all over the floor and weeps. Now the clock says the last minute is up. So now I can leave. I stand up precariously.
Where are you going / downstairs.
Angela jumps up from the table and inquires about where he is going, while they are serenaded by an Hawaiian group playing a mournful goodbye song:
Angela: George? How long will you be gone?
George: I don’t know, darling.
I just
don’t
gno.
Tripped on the bottom step stumbled into. Bedroom Locked the Door. Behind the curtain drawn it was dark. Took off my clothes got into. Bed curled up tight. Here it comes. Here it comes again.
Ready? No! Not I’m not to. Walls spin. Are you ready? Here we go again! Here-we-go-a-round-begin! up off the bed. Stop crying. Kneel down and beg yes now crawl around the floor. 1 2 3 4 Good Now Climb back up onto the bed. Pull at your hair / slap at your head. Oh, Jesus, are you fucking crying again, Aw, fuck, aw, FUCK! I rolled around, I flopped around, couldn’t breathein, sucked down now, pulled down now, and then there came a loud knock-knock-knocking-knocking at the door: ARE YOU IN THERE, MATE, OPEN THE DOOR! ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? leave me alone OPEN THE DOOR SO I CAN HELP YOU! falling from the center. Bursting forth the wet ripe skies the pounding wall began to cry, shield your eyes and turn away as it explodes, and a blinding light above me, and before the light, dark shape, a voice crying
I AM THE ANGEL OF LIFE!
(No you’re not!)
I AM THE MOTHER OF LIGHT!
(Get away from me!)
WHAT’S WRONG! WHAT’S THE MATTER! WHAT DO YOU NEED! (Just get the fuck AWAY from me!) HERE, LET ME GET IN BED BESIDE YOU, LET ME CALM YOU DOWN, LET ME HOLD YOU LIKE I ALWAYS DO—
Then boom.
—holy Mary mother of God—
8695, good morning, have a good day!
Hi, what’s your number again please?
8-695
Oh my god, I’m on the 83rd floor!
86—86 what?
I’m on the 83rd floor!
Ma’am, calm down one moment—86 what?
8695.
8695? She at the World Trade Center, someone having trouble breathing there on the 83rd floor.
theMystery.doc Page 37
