Any Man
Page 3
Dear Mr. Ellis,
Today my mom made me pancakes because it is a special day because you are my favorite teacher and you are back and that makes me happy. My mom made one of the pancakes in the shape of an E for Ellis. If you ever want to talk to me about what happened and why you had to go away Mr. Ellis I will listen and I will be your friend. My best friend is Rotty my dog and he always listens to me whenever I am sad. I can be your Rotty if you need one. My mom says a bad thing was done to you by a bad person they can’t find and it was on the news. But I don’t care about the news. I only care about you.
Your friend,
Jimmy
P.S. I also care about Rotty too. And mom.
Jake’s hunched over a painting on the front porch, surrounded by a clutter of pastels, when I pull into the driveway. I was planning on sitting in the car for a while to shake off the session with Irene, but the sight of my son softens me. He is markedly different from his older sister, the science lover with a social magnetism and flair for fluorescent fashion. His sister will one day be working on launchpads for NASA and marry some Pulitzer Prize winner. Jake is my introspective artist, my quiet landscape navigator, my insect whisperer.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“What are you working on there?”
“Just a drawing.”
“Ah. Nice. Of what?”
“Just a thing.”
I nod, rest my chin on my hand, my elbow on the car window frame.
Jake rubs his nose, speaks without looking up from his painting.
“What are you working on in there?”
“Just sitting in the car, Monkey. Nothing special.”
“Oh.”
“Want to go for a drive?”
“Do you want to go down to the river?”
“Sure.”
“How was school today?”
“I don’t know, kind of fun, I guess.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me.”
“Well . . . well, I found a salamander at lunch.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“. . . And?”
“And it felt funny in my hands. The skin. But I petted it, right there between the eyes, ya know? Like a cat?”
“Yeah . . .”
“Yeah, and it fell asleep in my hand. That was kinda cool.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Yeah.”
“How long did it sleep for?”
“Long enough that I could kinda sketch it a little.”
“Oh yeah? Is that what you were working on at the house?”
“No, that was this other thing.”
“Gotcha. Okay.”
“Buddy, take off your sandals if you’re going to put your feet on the dash.”
“Sorry. Okay.”
“Don’t be sorry, Monkey.”
“There should be parking coming up . . .”
“Okay . . .”
“So . . .”
“Yeah, Monkey?”
“Do you feel funny since you got home?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just sorta quiet, I guess. I don’t know.”
“I know. It won’t be like this for long, I promise.”
“Okay . . .”
“Is there anything else you want to ask me, Monkey?”
“. . . I don’t know.”
“Have people been saying things to you at school?”
“. . .”
“Jake, listen . . . listen to me, don’t cry, Monkey. Don’t cry. Listen . . . I’m here, aren’t I? I’m alive and fine and here.”
“I know . . . it’s just . . .”
“What? You can tell me.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Okay. You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to. But know I’m fine. Really, I am. I’m here, okay? I’m here.”
“. . . It’s just, some people called you bad names that I didn’t like. And asked me how you could . . . could . . .”
“Could what, Monkey?”
“Could get . . . raped . . . and I didn’t even know what that word was. I had to look it up. It sounds so bad. Is that what happened to you?”
“. . . It’s complicated, Jake. It’s really complicated. But . . . let me try and explain it to you . . .”
“. . .”
“Some people in the world are bad people. What happened to me . . . I was kind of like that salamander . . . asleep for what happened to me.”
“But why were you sleeping?”
“Well . . . one of the bad things that happened was, someone put something in my drink that made me very, very sleepy. So it didn’t hurt me. I couldn’t feel anything.”
“Why did you let someone put something in your drink?”
“I didn’t let that happen, Jake . . . It was put in my drink when I wasn’t looking.”
“Oh. . . . But why weren’t you looking, Dad?”
“Jake, buddy, listen. Listen to me. What matters is I’m fine now and they’re going to find that bad person so they can’t do bad things to other people. Do you believe me?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, kiddo. Let’s get out here and sit by the water, sound good?”
“Yeah, okay.”
We sit hip to hip, overlooking Black River Bay. I put my hand around his narrow shoulders and hold him close. I’d grow extra mouths to swallow all his confusion and sorrow. We say nothing. The clouds move the wind, flirt the trees, gust the water, caress the fish, tickle the reeds, polish the stones, suckle the moss, gurgle the river, choir the valley. Somewhere a salamander sleeps. Somewhere an owl opens one eye. Somewhere a bad thing, somewhere a good thing, no thing, and everything. The air cracks its warm clarity against our hair. The smell of grilling meat wafts by us. I love him. I will protect him.
Yes, I am still breathing.
No, I am not living.
Four
I LOCK THE DOOR BEHIND ME. IT’S EASIER TO GET READY FOR BED when I’m in the bathroom alone. I lower the lights until I can barely see. I undo my buckle and unzip my pants. I hate the sound of a zipper’s descent. I carefully pull the waistband of my slacks down over my hips while also bellowing the fabric, slowly pulling like a flag to half-mast, making sure nothing snags the bag of piss clinging to my thigh. I step out of the puddle of fabric on the floor one leg at a time, mindful not to pull my wrapped leg up too high and pinch the catheter. Naked, I un-Velcro the bag from my leg and disconnect it from its tube. I prop it up on a towel next to the sink. I wash my hands for fifteen seconds with soap. I remove the bag’s drain spout from its sleeve and open it. I spread my legs and stand over the toilet. I hold its head, now a Picasso of pigment, and lean its misshapen body over the bowl with one hand. With my other hand, I pick up the bag of urine. I look up at a shelf filled with Camilla’s eye creams. Honey, why did you marry me? I do not look down as I turn the urine bag upside down into the toilet bowl and enjoy the familiar trickle against porcelain. I close my eyes. I remember. I imagine.
I’m holding a perfect lever.
A skin-sheathed cleaver. A velvet coffer.
I’m holding a bag of a hundred warm nickels.
The steeple on a sun-soaked sandcastle.
I’m holding a newborn baby eagle,
A portrait of Poseidon on an easel,
a hawk moth larva,
a miniature statue of the Dalai Lama.
I’m holding Mr. Potato Head,
Van Gogh’s big beautiful ear,
a gourd,
a gun,
I’m holding a fresh-cut cow’s tongue.
I’m holding a mountain with a lenticular cloud,
a swarm of sleeping starlings before dusk.
A tarantula’s cocoon,
an inverted maelstrom,
a titan arum blossom.
I’m holding a throbbing tornado.
A monarch’s libido.
A calcified bird from Lake Natron.
The
horn of a Watusi bull.
A king’s skull.
A shard from a broken crystal ball.
A famous scroll.
I’m holding timber from the Black Forest.
I’m holding a whale’s vein.
I’m holding my father’s hand.
I’m holding my father’s name.
In the morning, the air is thick with the smell of cooked onion and coffee. Someone has slid a piece of paper underneath the bedroom door. A painting. Jake’s. In the painting, a man and a boy sit on a dock overlooking a river and a forest. The sun shines brightly from above, illuminating each leaf in shades of green, yellow, and gold. The man wears a crown. He does not smile, but his body does. The man isn’t holding the boy with arms but with wings, long and strong. The boy’s eyes are closed. He does not see, but his body does.
Beyond them, a thick curtain of green trees is drawn. Between the parted woods, a small pair of black eyes peer out and a misshapen scribbled hand claws at the bark, its other arm long, dragging in the mud.
The creature is headless.
It moves.
Downstairs, I find Camilla frozen in the kitchen, staring at the television as onions burn on the stove.
“Authorities are confirming that a man identified as Pear O’Sullivan has been brutally attacked and assaulted in Springfield, Massachusetts . . .”
It moves.
It—
“. . . Investigators believe the perpetrator is likely the same person who attacked Watertown schoolteacher Donald Ellis just three months ago. A perpetrator who authorities now believe is an unidentified woman.”
She.
II
One
JAMARVELOUS83: Yo
JASMINEROSE: Hey there
JAMARVELOUS83: Jamar here. Is yours Jasmine or Rose? Or both?
JASMINEROSE: Jasmine though some people call me Rose too
JASMINEROSE: Where are you from, Jamar? I like that pic of you.
The profile one.
I guess that’s why we’re talking tho right? lol
JAMARVELOUS83: LOL yeah. Same about your pix. You mixed?
Can’t really tell . . .
JASMINEROSE: Yeah you?
JAMARVELOUS83: Yeah. West Indian pops. Irish hippie mom.
JASMINEROSE: Nice
JAMARVELOUS83: Is it?
JASMINEROSE: lol
JAMARVELOUS83: How long have you been on Cupid? This place is kind of weird.
JASMINEROSE: lol super weird. Not long enough to feel comfortable with it.
JAMARVELOUS83: Yeah I’ve been on for 6 months. It’s got its upsides.
JAMARVELOUS83: It’s usually a mixed bag you know?
JASMINEROSE: lol Yeah
JAMARVELOUS83: But fuck all that. Tell me about yousilf
JAMARVELOUS83: *Yourself! Shit. That wasn’t even an autocorrect
JASMINEROSE: lol
JAMARVELOUS83: It’s like they set these things up to deliberately sabotage any game a dude might have
JASMINEROSE: lol
JASMINEROSE: no worries
JASMINEROSE: I’m from Wichita originally
JASMINEROSE: Are you familiar at all?
JAMARVELOUS83: Of course! Are you kidding? They have the best
JAMARVELOUS83: (runs and googles Wichita real quick)
JASMINEROSE: Ha1
JASMINEROSE: !
JAMARVELOUS83: . . . Interactive children’s events aaaaaaaaand . . .
JASMINEROSE: haha
JAMARVELOUS83: . . . Plains, I guess?
JASMINEROSE: haha yeah we’re well versed in the world of wide open spaces
JAMARVELOUS83: Okay now you’re just straight up FLIRTING with me, quoting Dixie Chicks
JASMINEROSE: lol ya got me
JAMARVELOUS83: So Wichita . . .
JASMINEROSE: So yeah then I moved to New York to work in . . . wait for it . . .
JAMARVELOUS83: . . .
JASMINEROSE: Insurance.
JAMARVELOUS83: Let’s get married.
JASMINEROSE: haha
JAMARVELOUS83: I’ve never heard such a touching story
JASMINEROSE: But wait there’s more!
JAMARVELOUS83: I don’t care. I’m in. For life. No prenup.
JASMINEROSE: haha
JASMINEROSE: Sounds like a plan
JASMINEROSE: Where did you go to school?
JAMARVELOUS83: Syracuse Uni. Live in Albany now.
JASMINEROSE: Nice. What did you study?
JAMARVELOUS83: English. Can’t you tell?
JASMINEROSE: Oh yeah for sure I haven’t seen a single Oxford comma!
JAMARVELOUS83: You are funny, sexy, and come from the plains.
JASMINEROSE: haha there it is!
JASMINEROSE: I’d like to use that on my epitaph
JAMARVELOUS83: Well don’t die YET, we have a lot of kids to have, and a mortgage to fight over
JASMINEROSE: haha ugh
JAMARVELOUS83: And mothers-in-law to complain about and a withering sex drive to
blame for our porn addictions
JASMINEROSE: Oh God this is so intense for a first convo
JAMARVELOUS83: Arghhh sorry I was just trying to be funny.
JASMINEROSE: No I know . . . you are a very funny guy for sure. Tell me more about you.
JAMARVELOUS83: Cool. In a nutshell I was born and raised in upstate NY. I love baseball. I’m 36 and share a birthday with my favorite writer, J. D. Salinger. After college I kind of fell into web design by accident.
JASMINEROSE: lol how do you “kind of fall into” that line of work?
JAMARVELOUS83: It’s pretty embarrassing but basically I was trying to build a website for myself as I was considering getting into acting and I read somewhere you need a good headshot and a good website.
JASMINEROSE: Ha! Really?
JAMARVELOUS83: Yes. In all honesty, I got high one night and watched Turner Classic Movies and thought, “Hey, I could do that”
JASMINEROSE: That is hilarious
JAMARVELOUS83: I wanted to be Cary Grant but instead I discovered I was Steve Wozniak. (Which is also a great name for my future memoir.)
JASMINEROSE: Oh wow. I know nothing about that stuff. Who is Steve Wozniak?
JAMARVELOUS83: The less famous guy who also founded the company Apple.
JASMINEROSE: Oh wow
JAMARVELOUS83: Yep. So yeah, English major to attempted actor to computer coder to semi-loser!
JASMINEROSE: ha
JAMARVELOUS83: My work revolves around being online a lot of the time so naturally a lot of my personal life is also spent and enjoyed here too. Online.
JASMINEROSE: How so?
JAMARVELOUS83: Well . . . here we are, aren’t we?
JASMINEROSE: Yeah but that’s not because you choose to, right? I mean none of us CHOOSE this
JAMARVELOUS83: mmm yes and no, for me
JASMINEROSE: We are on here because it’s hard to meet people in person nowadays with our jobs and lives
JASMINEROSE: Why do you say “yes and no” for you
JAMARVELOUS83: I say it because this type of interaction—that we’re having right now—is more fun. Ya know? Online. Doesn’t come with any baggage and you can talk to lots of people.
JASMINEROSE: Huh.
JAMARVELOUS83: Yeah . . .
JASMINEROSE: So I guess that’s just like a game thing for you. Talking to a bunch of different women from behind a screen.
JAMARVELOUS83: A game . . . ?
JASMINEROSE: Like you’re not really REALLY interested in meeting someone on here. As in, physically meeting. You just want to be safe and free of intimacy.
JAMARVELOUS83: I’ve gotta say . . . that last word you just used there is a real boner deflator
JASMINEROSE: Excuse me?
JAMARVELOUS83: :-/ Sorry was trying to make you laugh
JASMINEROSE: Okay
JAMARVELOUS83: I believe a wise woman once said, “T
his is so intense for a first convo” . . .
JASMINEROSE: Wow.
JAMARVELOUS83: :-/
JAMARVELOUS83: Sorry, you were just talking some heavy stuff there and yeah. I’m just trying to get to know you. Let’s go back to Wichita!
JASMINEROSE: No you’re not but that’s cool.
JAMARVELOUS83: Wasn’t I?
JAMARVELOUS83: :-/
JAMARVELOUS83: Jasmine?
JAMARVELOUS83: Rose?
JAMARVELOUS83: Jasrose? Romine?
NEW TAB:
Google: Jasmine Rose Wichita
11,200,000 results found
NEW TAB:
Grubhub.com
China House Restaurant
Order for delivery: 1 sweet-and-sour chicken, 1 chicken dumplings, 1 egg-drop soup, 1 chow fun
Expected arrival time: 45 minutes
NEW TAB:
Google: Empire Wine & Spirit
Order for delivery: 1 12-pack Pacífico, 1 bottle Jack Daniel’s
Expected arrival time: 30 minutes
CLOSE TAB. NEW TAB:
MLB.com
Article: The Most Overrated in MLB History?
POST COMMENT:
Um two words, DodgersFan1962: Julio. Teheran. Are we forgetting
#2015Gate?! His 4.04 ERA and 1.31 WHIP?? This guy is nothing more than a good starter. The end.
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