LIMITED EDITIONS

2007 Community College of Philadelphia Limited Editions accepts manuscripts, photographs and drawings from all students at the Community College of Philadelphia for publication and consideration.

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Faculty Advisor’s Note

Many thanks to the editorial board for fiction and poetry: Alexander Bove Ari Bank Ned Bachus Joe Kenyon

Many thanks also to the editorial board for photography: Art Danek Anthony J. Wychunis

We would also like to thank Gary Grissom of the Office of Marketing and Communications for his gra[hic expertise and the Office of Student Activities for their continued support of this publication. Final thanks go to all the students who submitted work for this issue and the wonderful Creative Writing faculty here at the College who encourage and nurture our student writers.

Limited Editions is sponsored by The Office of Student Activities Community College of Philadelphia LIMITED EDITIONS 2007 Contents

Photograph by Christina Livingston cover Photograph by Valerie Nicolyuk 27

Photograph by Lan Lan Liu 2 Robert D. Lambert [Fiction] The Sailor 28 Alex DiFiori [Fiction] How to Die Happy 3 Photography by Quiana Dayle 30

Photograph by Valerie Nicolyuk 4 Photograph by Laura Gaylord 31

Victoria Tresko aMartin Wiley Sheltered from a Winter Street 5 How to cook for a benefit 32

Photograph by Heidi Roland 6 Photograph by Shawn Wilson 35

Chris Monigle Photograph by John Warrick 36 [Fiction] Delight 7 Photograph by Jauhien Sasnou 37 Photograph by Caleb Kelly 10 Kelly Morton Photograph by Vincent Tonelli 11 [Fiction]The Party on 30th Street 38

Nate Timmons Photograph by Michael Emig 47 [Fiction] No Answer 12 Photograph by Paul Sanders 48 Photograph by Tamicka Stephens 21 Photograph by Mark Bey 49 L. Anita Norris Gratitude’s Worth 22 Photograph by Melissa Joy 50

Photograph by Nate Stone 23 Photograph by Bill Higgins 51

Photograph by Qaadira Muhammed 24 Photograph by Sean McGroty 52

Photograph by Sophia Quach 25 Photograph by Ranjoo Prasad inside back cover Fiona Hendrix Inevitable 26 Photograph by Kieran Korolishin back cover

1 Lan Lan Liu

2 How to Die Happy

by Alex DiFiori

Girl put out a can of cat food. You get undressed, shower, and get re-dressed in your second best You wake up one morning and realize skirt, the blue one that your parents remember. you’re about to turn 20. You think to yourself, You walk to the window in the dining “How much longer do I have left? 30 years? room. Too bad it doesn’t open. If it did, you 22.77 years? How long until they bury me, 47, could die happy right now. But it doesn’t, so forever?” You decide that when you die, you you don’t. will die happy, because, as you think to yourself, dying unhappy is like living dead. Boy After your morning shower, you put on the best dress you own, the red one with the I wake up, cold, a little tired still. My black lace. You remember it as the one your girlfriend’s already awake, but she’s still in parents don’t remember, won’t, can’t. Work bed. The faint sunlight streaking through the is an overpaid secretarial job at a big law firm windows makes her glow like a low-burning downtown. You love it because it’s easy and candle. I reach out, touch her face. Smooth, they gave you a nice computer. clean, beautiful. You leave work a little hungry at 5:21pm. I say good morning,;she says good morn- You call your boyfriend and tell him the news; ing. I get out of bed, shower, dress. you are going to die happy. He tells you that’s We walk downstairs together, hands inter- “great.” But you know he has no idea what locked, hers warmer than mine. She waits for the fuck you’re talking about. You change the me at the curb. I walk to my car. Drive to her. subject before the conversation goes to shit. She looks beautiful just standing there, waiting. “Wanna go out to dinner tonight?” He says sure, My dick gets half-hard; watching her is agony, I “I’d love to,” and you know he isn’t lying. need to touch her again. The restaurant you go to is a nice place She gets in slowly, like milk moves. The with a great selection. Because you don’t eat door closes, I drive her home. We kiss goodbye, beef (the taste is too thick to swallow), you no tongue. She gets out, I stare. She disappears, order a lamb chop, garden salad, and the soup out of sight, gone, swallowed by the bricks and of the day. Your boyfriend orders a steak with metal of her apartment. I go limp when I turn Caesar salad, no dressing. The smell of his steak the corner. makes your stomach churn, but you don’t lose The highway looks clear, so I take it to your appetite. work. A car cuts me off. I hit the median. My After dinner, you go to his place and fuck car flips like a broken wheel. It lands on the like your supposed to after eating a lamb chop, roof. The metal bends. My neck breaks in three garden salad, and the soup of the day. You fall places. I die happy. asleep after he does and wake up just before him. He drives you home in his Honda and The Story Ends kisses you goodbye, no tongue. (like any “serious” story should) In your apartment, the sun is burning through all the big clean windows. You don’t have any pets yet so you don’t 3 Valerie Nicolyuk

4 Sheltered from a Winter Street

by Victoria Tresko

In a winter soil, my fingers reach Half way Just enough to grab the pruned lilac, purples, yellows Grown from a cement base, in a winter soil We hallucinate, not from sudden fiction or an even tone To match our dress, but from thick, enlightening clouds of breath The whisper of your chest, the inside sends us gasping for indefinite air On a winter street, I notice gathered feet, Nicotine sticks half way through their lives, women asleep I’m glad I fell before this, tender feel to it On a winter street, captured by the solitude Show me your neck, show me your knees, your feet I’ve wandered into a marigold’s nightmare and now I’d like some sheltering, tie me up in ribbons, Cover me in sheets, carrot seeds, I want to grow from these Dream from these, sheltered from a winter street I’d rather sleep forever

5 Heidi Roland

6 Delight by Chris Monigle

I don’t recall the first time I saw her. It Obviously, I directed all of my questions to Matt. might’ve been around two years or so ago when I noticed that a girl prettier than all of “Matt, I have a question.” the others was in my homeroom. For two years, “Hey! You finally decided to join us. What’s silence existed between the two of us. For the the word?” Matt asked. majority of the time, I hardly noticed her, as is “Any school events taking place this week- the case whenever someone is not a part of my end?” world. One day, however, it was like I saw her “Well, there‘s a football game tonight, but for the first time. She came out of the blue-liter- it‘s an away game,” Matt answered and then ally. You see, the art class was painting the wall asked, “Why?” blue. To tell you the truth, I’m not positive what “Just wondering. Another question, out made me notice her. The probable reason is that of complete curiosity, how does one find out it was her looks. However, I consider myself which girls go to away football games?” to be a writer so I’d like to think it was some- “Well…” Matt said, catching on, “You can thing more ideal and wonderful. Don’t kill my ask them OR you can stalk them. Personally, I dreams. would ask. It’s saner than option two.” I went to lunch that day as per usual. At this point, Paul and Pat were interested However, a newfound absentmindedness took in what I was saying. over. My friends obviously noticed. If lucky, they “Why are you asking about a girl? Pat managed to hold my attention for five seconds asked with a certain annoyance, which quite before I returned to my own thoughts. My own honestly, shocked me. thoughts presented two paths and I could only “Dude, I haven’t asked about any girl.” travel one. One path was the “What if?” path, “But…” Paul chimed in, “You’re asking and to be honest, it is one I’ve traveled a bit. about how to find out whether certain girls are The other path was to talk to her and figure out going to the football game.” the feelings I was having because of her. With- “Yes, I am.” out much conflict, I chose the road less trav- “Listen,” Matt said, putting an end to Paul eled. Did it make all the difference? and Pat’s stupidity, “I’ll find out who is going I entered the conversations with my to the game and then I’ll let you know. Is that friends. My friends are interesting guys. First, good?” there’s Matt. In high school, Matt was the gold- “It’s great!” en boy in the eyes of the girls. They loved the The conversation then meandered into way he talked to them. It wasn’t that he always the classes we had left. Eventually, the bell rang hit on them. He made the girls feel good about and I anxiously awaited to find out who was themselves and not just about their physical going. Before Matt left for class, he asked about appearance. After Matt came Paul and Pat. They the girl I wanted to know specifically about so I were complete opposites of Matt. They hadn’t told him. Paul and Pat? Not so much. the first idea when it came to talking to a girl. After class every day, I met up with Matt

7 in the parking lot. In addition to having all the Now, it wasn’t until later that I realized right moves, he had a car. Usually, Paul and Pat she and I had never spoken more than five would ride home with us, but they had deten- words to each other. Mainly an “excuse me.” tion. I was relieved because I could talk to Matt Doubt seized me as it usually does whenever without the constant scrutiny. Matt approached I have the chance to effectively change my the car with a grin, partially because the week- disposition and become happy. I sat down on end had arrived, and he had news for me. my bed with my insecurities. Whenever con- “Dude, I have great news for you,” Matt fronted with what I wanted, I always retreated said as he unloaded his bags into the car. to safest place I knew-- myself. After all, it was a “Great? Wow. That’s the last adjective I sanctuary that never let me down. I figured she expected to hear.” didn’t laugh with me but rather at me. I became “Yeah, whatever, don’t talk like that,” Matt disillusioned and dour. I took a nap in a hope said. to clear my thoughts. When I awoke, I dressed “But that’s what is unique about me.” myself and did more thinking. People build bar- “It’s a shame-- it sounds like you’re fifty.” riers in order for them to have certain control Matt said with a laugh. over how others would affect their lives. I Both us were feeling good. I had no rea- was no different. I built a barrier so thick that son to feel as good as I did, but that wonderful I didn’t realize it was breaking my back until adjective had a power over me. We got in the tonight. I found happiness in many other areas car, Matt turned the car and radio on, and we of life, all that came within myself. It helped drove. take away the thought of the weight I carried “So, as you asked, I asked girls if they around. And then I realized a contradiction in planned on attending the game tonight. I found myself. The greatest portion of my happiness a few, but regarding her, I hadn’t run into her. came from other people, in trusting, helping, So when I’m walking to my locker to get my and loving them. Why would she be any differ- things and come out here, she’s walking by. I ent? I realized the love that made me also was stopped her and found out that she is attending breaking me. tonight’s game with a few friends. So, I accom- At that moment, I decided to free myself plished step one. I figured I’d drop your name of all judgments about how the night would go into the conversation. Dude, she said you made down. It was no place for me to judge how she her laugh.” lived her life and how she viewed other people. “You’re full of it, man.” Matt picked me up and we headed over to the “Dude, since when have I ever lied to field. you?” Matt asked. “I don’t know why I expected you to be He had a point. dressed out of the ordinary, but I did” Matt said “Did she say anything else?” with a smirk. “No, but she smiled affectionately when “I considered doing that, but I want to be recalling how you made her laugh.” who I am. These clothes are me.” And with a cheer, Matt accelerated and we “I get it, dude. Do you have a plan?” Matt headed into the night. asked.

8 “I do not have a plan.” flow as concrete. So, apparently, she doesn’t “I’ve seen you’ve come prepared tonight,” like you like you, she likes you as a friend. She Matt sardonically stated. “I’m going to get you didn’t want to make you feel bad so she came two talking just to avoid any kind of awkward- all of this way. Of course, if I had known the ness.” extent of their plan, I would’ve never brought “Sounds great.” you here tonight. It further establishes what ev- “What’s gotten into you?” Matt asked. ery man knows and that is women don’t make “I feel different, Matt. I mean, I’m not wor- any sense so now we’re stuck here watching ried about how the night will go. It’s like I had a 1-7 team and a 0-8 team and we won’t leave an epiphany or something.” because of my issue with wasting money.” “I like it,” Matt said. “Wow,” I said, “never thought it’d hurt this much to be killed with kindness, but damn.” Forty five minutes later, we parked the Matt did his best to cheer me up. He car and went to the field. To my surprise, not bought me a cup of hot chocolate, told story many of my classmates were at the game. Of after story, and I’ll admit, it worked a little. course, the team was 1-7 and away, but I guess Every time I looked over at her though, I was I bought into the myth of school spirit. As soon reminded of why high school truly sucks. as we entered the field, my calm disappeared and I became a wreck again. Matt noticed and told me to settle down. As we approached the girls, I knew my voice would get caught and I’d sound like an idiot and not to disappoint anyone, it is exactly what happened. Matt did his usual thing, made the situation less awk- ward, and then took her two friends so all that remained between her and me was air. Boy, did it get awkward quickly. Neither she nor I knew what to say. The conversation stilted a half second after it began. I looked over at Matt in alarm and to my surprise, he looked alarmed as well. He came over to me and rushed me away. “I completely misinterpreted this after- noon. What happened was that somehow word spread that you liked her. My bet is on Paul and Pat as the rats. When I asked her about the game and mentioned you, she knew exactly what my plan was. This is the kicker: rather reject my invitation, she and her friends drive forty-five minutes to come here and her to see you. That conversation looked to have as much

9 Caleb Kellly

10 Vincent Tonelli

11 No Answer

by Nate Timmons

“Well, that guy wasn’t very popular.” or circumstance. Pre-occupied with attempting to tune in a radio I mumble, distracted, “I saw a person station not currently on commercial break, I yesterday who had fifty-nine cars in his funeral pay little mind to Greg’s observation and gave train. He was just a regular person from what I him a noncommittal grunt in response. I settle could tell. Held up traffic for over forty minutes. on a song I think is the Rolling Stones, but And the funniest part was I never wanted the could in fact be someone totally different, and procession to end. I could have sat in traffic all glance back at the road. afternoon long and be completely content. It “I mean, really, look at that. The poor dude would have been nice just to sit there, on my has like two cars in his funeral procession,” own, waiting until I could just get into the back Greg cranes his neck towards the windshield of the line because it was my turn to get tossed for a better view,.“And somehow they’re still into the ground.” I laugh, mostly to myself, “How holding up traffic.” ironic would that have been, huh? Stuck wait- Greg is allergic to silence. A moment with- ing for a funeral to pass only to join it because out the sound of his voice is a moment wasted it took too damn long.” to prove that, even though he is short, chubby, Greg shoots me a disgusted look, “Dude. and poorly groomed in every possible way, he John. You really need a girlfriend.” is a capable man, a man capable of giving one’s “Oh, like you’re the expert? And my name eardrums a thorough battering. is Jon, not John.” “I hope I get a long line of cars. I kind of “That’s what I said, ‘John’.” feel embarrassed for the guy. As if I’m seeing “No, you’re saying ‘John’. You’re pronounc- something I shouldn’t, you know.” Greg contin- ing the ‘h’. You always pronounce the damn ‘h’. ues, “You live a long, and hopefully, interesting My name is Jon. See. No ‘h’.” life and to have everyone’s last memory of you “What the hell are you talking about? be how no one liked you enough to show up to There’s only one way to pronounce ‘John’,” your damn funeral. And you have to know one Greg looks away and shakes his head. “How of those two cars following the hearse is filled does one even go about pronouncing the with default funeral home pallbearers. That just silent ‘h’ when it’s in the middle of the fucking has to suck.” word?” It seems no matter where I drive anymore, “Well, it’s what you’re doing.” I pass a cemetery, and more often than not, “My god, what happened to you, dude? I there always appears to be someone traveling mean, seriously, when did you get all weird on towards it, rushing to use its services. There is us?” something about being exposed to this con- “Whatever.” stant morbidity that leaves me feeling strangely “See, that’s why you need a girlfriend. hollow, as if I am missing some life lesson that Just listen to yourself, you’re one moody son should be teaching me something vital. But, in of a bitch. A good girl will clean that person- the end, all I feel is a bitter sense of mortality;, ality right up and have you thinking happy which serves me a sour reminder that I too will thoughts.” Greg leans forward and looks me one day end up in a situation just like this: in straight in the face. “Seriously. Dude, you’re just a vehicle which patiently navigates to a place depressing.” where they can stuff me out of the way to be “Okay, not to change the subject, but do slowly forgotten, like they do with other ob- you guys want to know what’s really depress- jects that have been rendered useless by time ing?” Ralph pipes in from the back seat, saving

12 me the need to reply. “Well, besides having to down into his lap. He slumps in the back seat listen to this gay ass Beatles song Jon put on.” and glances out the side window with a for- My back seat passenger has always been lorn expression. I almost expect to see a poorly an unremarkable man. Ralph is of average dressed film director poke his head into my car height and build and wears stock clothing window, call “Scene!” and cue Greg and me to straight from the rack of one’s local department take a break, but I blink a few times and dispel store. He is also so painfully cognizant of his my illusion. I briefly toy with the notion of re- own mediocrity that he does what ever he can moving my hands from the steering wheel and to stand out. Tattoos adorn his arms, legs and clapping but decide against it. hands while piercings hang from his ears and “I’m just so…disgusted,” Ralph moans to eyebrow. Ralph wears shirts that are snug on my car window. “I wonder if I should break up children, and he regularly has enough styling with her?” products laced into his hair to suffocate any For some odd reason, Greg turns his head particular species of low flying bird unlucky towards the backseat to reply—assuming, as enough to fly past his coif. This day is no always, people actually cared about his ad- exception. vice—but upon seeing Ralph now conversing Ralph scratches his head, careful not to with the window, he closes his mouth. Instead, displace any follicles of gel-stiffened hair, and he turns to me. continues, “I’m watching TV with Claire last “So what are we eating when we get to night and a Philadelphia Eagles commercial O’Boyle’s?” Greg asks. “I’m starving.” comes on. They were advertising season tickets I keep my focus on driving and do not or something like that, I wasn’t really paying answer. Greg patiently stares at the side of my attention. Anyway, Claire starts wiggling around head, expecting something, so I just slowly on the couch because she’s all excited about shrug my shoulders in hopes it will be suf- something. She tells me I look like one of the ficient. He stays staring, waiting for more. But quarterbacks.” He pauses to run his hands over after realizing I am not going to elaborate, he his face and sigh. “He was like this old, weird turns away to fiddle with the tuning knob of looking dude.” the stereo. He hums softly to himself. Not exactly sure of the response Ralph In reality, Greg was wrong. I had not so is expecting or what, in fact, any of the Eagles’ much gotten weird, as I had gotten angry. And players look like, I say, “At least you look like a angry I stay. The reasons for this rage, however, football player. I’m sure it beats looking like a are unknown even to me. All I know is that I ballerina or something.” don’t want to be here, in this moment, under Greg laughs. these circumstances, with these people, as we “Dude, have you seen the Eagles back-up take turns perfecting our mutual disgust. Yet quarterback?” here I am anyway. And although I have a partic- In hopes that he will just stop talking, I as- ular destination in mind, I have no clue where sure Ralph, with a completely straight face, that I’m going. Then again, burdened as I am with indeed I had. the likes of those that share this motor vehicle, “I mean, he seriously looks like some form I would be surprised if I end up anywhere. of insect with a receding hairline and Down The blessed, and rather short, period syndrome.” A professional dramatist, Ralph does of relative quiet ends when Ralph, sitting up what he can to assure people’s attentions are straight, decides to shatter it. “You know what focused on him. His voice cracks, “How can the first thing I asked myself was when I woke I date a girl who thinks I look like a balding up this afternoon?” retard?” “Who are you and why is my ass all sore Ralph throws his hands up and flops them 13 and sticky?” I ask, wide eyed. in the window and saw the dude driving?” He turns his head and gives my rearview I shrug my shoulders again, feeling no mirror a dirty glare, “Die, please. And that’s two real need to elaborate. Greg turns away, sighing, things.” Ralph looks back to his favorite section and stares at the scenery zipping by. A tense of glass. “No, what I asked myself was what the silence, marred only by the static whispering hell am I doing with my life. I mean, I do abso- of a Led Zeppelin song drifting from the door lutely nothing different from one week to the mounted speakers, rides in the car with us until next and almost every morning I wake up feel- Greg, looking jittery, feels compelled to do an ing worse and worse. Sometimes I feel like I’m impromptu sing-along to frighten away the just wasting away, that tomorrow I’m going to unwieldy silence. wake up and be fifty and wonder what the hell “The beating of my heart is a drum, happened. I mean, seriously…” and it’s lost, and it’s looking for a rhythm like While Ralph continues his routine whin- yoooooouuuuuu,” Greg echoes, lagging slightly ing and I am speculating over his ability to behind the song on the radio. Having no clue as speak through strangulation, I pull up at a stop to what purpose he might have in singing Zep- light behind a shabby Ford station wagon. pelin, I just keep my attention forward, thinking Its dull red paint job, scratched and chipped, it better not to acknowledge Greg made any seems to have been hard earned through years sound at all. Yet his low caterwaul, while being of neglect. Piles of assorted junk fill the wagon amazingly off-key, is marginally less irritating area making it impossible to view the driver than hearing him speak. through the back windshield, and there is a Fortunately, before any more attempts at sticker fixed onto the bumper that reads:“Jesus trivial conversation, we arrive at our destina- loves you but everyone else thinks you’re an tion—O’Boyle’s Bar and Grill. I find a parking asshole.” Stricken by an uncomfortable sensa- space between a black SUV and what looks tion, I look around in a furtive manner to see to be an older model Chevy Cavalier, but it is if anyone else in the car notices the bumper smashed and damaged from some form of ac- sticker; no one does. cident so it is difficult to be sure. As I’m parallel I stick my head out the window, trying to parking, my bumpers smack first into the back catch a glimpse of driver but there is no side of the SUV and then into what’s left of the front mirror. Sweat tickles the skin of my brow as it grill of the Chevy. I do this unintentionally sev- starts to moisten and a peculiar desperation eral more times, with Ralph cheering from the washes over me. It becomes imperative I see back and giving me a thumbs-up, before com- the person driving the station wagon. I slam my ing to a stop. Ralph looks legitimately pleased hand on the car horn and hold it down, yet I with my parking ability. I turn the ignition off notice no movement from the person in front. and look down the street at the place where I The driver is either unfazed, ignoring my frantic will be drinking my lunch. honking or deaf. My only response: the words O’Boyle’s, flanked on one side by a florist on the bumper sticker. The traffic light turns and the other by a shabby apartment duplex, green and the station wagon speeds off. is a small storefront bar and grill. A large fab- “Dude, what the hell were you honking ric awning, tattered and torn by nature, hangs for!?” Greg is holding his ears, shooting me a along the front of the squat building, shading venomous look. “The light was still red.” a large bay window from the sun’s glare. The I clear my throat. “Nothing, I just thought parts of the stucco wall not framing a large I recognized the driver.” I pointedly do not look pane of glass are unwashed and dingy, and gives at Greg and continue driving. the place, upon superficial inspection, the look “Are you kidding me? You somehow magi- of the proverbial dive bar, which, of course, it cally saw through all the crap he had piled up is. I am both appalled and excited to be looking 14 upon its cheerless walls, and I am unsure why. “Yea,” Greg gives me an odd look. He is I flash to a memory of a recent Satur- on the verge of adding something else, but he day night. Greg, Ralph and I are hanging in just shakes his head and starts walking towards O’Boyle’s while a song I think is the Backstreet the bar. I follow. When we reach the door to Boys is blaring from massive overhead speakers O’Boyle’s, Greg halts, hand lightly grasping the causing my head to throb in a sickening man- door handle, and glances around. ner. We are all extremely drunk. Ralph is pressed “Where’s Ralph?” up against the bar wall, pelvis to pelvis, lip to “I don’t know. Was it my turn to watch lip, with a girl who’s name I think is Nicole or him?” Natasha or something starting with the letter Greg snorts. He releases the door handle “N”, while Greg is attempting to convince some and heads back down the street towards my fat chick to dance by saying, “Well, I don’t really car in search of our friend. Struck with a name- call what I do dancing. It’s more like making less curiosity, I follow behind. love with my clothes on….” and I am leaning on We find Ralph sitting on the curb in front the bar, beer in hand, contemplating a subject I of my car with his face pointing towards the am incapable of grasping while drunk. There is asphalt. His tattooed hand is lightly fingering someone named Stephanie, a dark-haired, petite his eyebrow ring and his face is stilled by girl, bubbly, with a frenetic energy I cannot reflection. match, chattering continuously in my ear. “You coming or what?” Greg asks his She is saying, “I love this Montell Jordan tousled head. song,” and saying, “Your friend Ralph seems like Ralph scrubs his hands over his face and a really nice guy,” and saying, “I only come here looks at us. “You guys sure you want to go to because I work next door,” and saying, “How O’Boyle’s? I just cheated on Claire the other old are you?” and I start to wonder how much night with a girl that is here. It’s going to be alcohol I can consume in one sitting before creepy.” my liver stops functioning. As I lean, listening Disgusted, I say, “Just ignore her, who to Stephanie speak, I realize I would do almost cares?” anything to make her stop, make her walk “Well, I slept with her. I can’t just ignore away and leave me alone. But all I do is give the her. Plus, I’ll never be able to bang her again if slightest of nods and look at her, and every time I don’t acknowledge her in some way.” Ralph she lifts her eyes to meet mine, she laughs, as if shakes his head, “But I don’t know what the everything I don’t say is the funniest thing she hell to say to her.” will never hear. “Just be honest with her, man,” Greg says, Tapping from my window wakes me from “Natalie seemed like a cool chick. I’m sure she’s my reverie. “Jon? You coming?” on the level if you just break it down for her.” Ralph’s breath fogs the glass. Ralph barks out a laugh and mutters, “Yea, “Yea,” I slip out of my car to join Ralph right. That ALWAYS works.” He rolls his eyes, and chirp the alarm with my keypad. “Can you guys give me something useful? I “Yo,” Greg calls over to Ralph and me. He don’t want to date her, but I don’t want to com- is pointing at a compact car parked halfway pletely get rid of her on the off chance some- down the block, “I think that’s Natalie’s car from thing doesn’t work out with me and Claire” the other night.” Ralph focuses his eyes and looks back and forth “Who?” I ask. between Greg and me with a hopeful air. “The girls from Saturday night. Natalie was “Don’t look at me,” I respond, “There is the cute one Ralph hooked up with.” literally nothing I care less about then whether “There was a cute one?” I ask, walking you are capable of juggling two girls at once.” I over to join him on the adjacent sidewalk. point over to Greg. “Ask him. He’s full of useless 15 information.” in, “Wait, Wait. What happens if they’re sitting by Nodding thoughtfully, Greg segues the entrance when we walk in? If she’s sitting smoothly into advice giving mode. “Okay, you’re right there, won’t that screw up your retarded right. Being honest in a situation like this nor- planning?” Ralph swings his head back and mally does not work out in the guy’s favor. You forth between Greg and me. He is visibly anx- tell Natalie you have a girlfriend after you sleep ious. with her, she could go all psycho-mode on you Greg replies, “Well, yea. I guess a little.” He and start poking you with pointy objects. What pauses then points at Ralph. “In that case you’re you need to do is just play it cool, you know.” just going to have to casually greet her, then ex- He starts motioning with his hands, getting into cuse yourself and go to the bathroom. And we’ll what he’s saying, “We’ll start out like this: we’ll find a spot at the bar farther away from her, go up and lean against the bar and order some where you will go after you waste the appropri- drinks. I’ll whisper something in your ear and ate amount of time. Then proceed as advised.” you burst out laughing. I want some genuine “No way, man,” Ralph sputters, “You go in belly laughs from you.” Ralph nods his head, first and see where Natalie is sitting. Go talk to riveted by Greg’s instructions. “Nothing too dra- her to distract her. It’ll give me time to go get a matic, just project enough to make the people drink.” around you notice how much fun you’re hav- “I’m not agreeing to that. The girl I ing. Then while we talk some more, I want you hooked up with the other night could be here to casually glance over to where she’s sitting. with her for all we know. I think they were She should be looking at you at this point. friends.” Actually, if your laugh is loud enough, everyone Morons. I can almost feel my I.Q. sinking should be looking at you. Which is kind of what lower and lower, as I listen to this stupidity we want.” masked as insight. “She’s a fat chick, ‘ I interject “Why do we want her looking?” again. “Who cares? She was probably just happy “Well, that way, she makes the first move. someone bothered talking to her. She’ll be so When you catch her looking at you, give her a unused to talking to dudes maybe even your little wave and continue talking with me. She chubby ass will intimidate her.” Ralph laughs. will either wave back and stay with whomever After a few seconds, I join in. she is hanging with, or she will walk over to say “Come on, guys,” Greg sounds defensive, ‘Hi’. Now, if she stays put, you’re golden. It will “She was actually a really nice girl. I thought give you time to get drunk and then anything she was beautiful on the inside.” that happens after that can be excused for I laugh harder. alcohol reasons. If she walks over, you have to “Okay, forget it. Let’s just go in and see be careful with how you greet her back. Talk to what happens.” her for a couple seconds: feel her out. You’re go- Greg and I start walking. Ralph pauses ing to have to do this at some point anyway, to to manipulate his hair, using my windshield as tell whether she’s into you or not. If she’s really a mirror, and then scurries to join us. Within excited to see you, you might be good. If she’s moments we are through the front door of acting laid back, kind of like what you will be O’Boyle’s bar and grill. doing, then she is as confused as you are, which A breeze, stale and yeasty, blows out to might indicate she has genuine feelings for you. greet us when I pull open the inner doors. That means it’s time to get the hell away from Walking through the threshold, I am forced to her. But remember, under no circumstance, can blink my eyes rapidly to adjust to the dull yel- you act excited to see her.” lowish light wafting from the single bulb lamps While Ralph is physically trying to digest hanging from the beams that project from the Greg’s confusing lecture, I feel obligated to cut low ceiling. A large four sided wet bar, with a 16 scattered assortment of afternoon patrons, sits think she noticed me. Quick, say something that dead center of the main room and a depressing looks like it might be funny.” Eric Clapton song, which emanates from the “What?” wall hung jukebox that has not had its music “Say something, anything for Christ’s sake. selection updated in decades, fills the air. And I think she’s staring.” although I have walked in and out of these “I’m not getting involved in this bullshit,” I same doors hundred of times, it always feels as point my thumb towards Greg who is sitting on if I never actually manage to leave. my other side, reading the lunch menu. “That’s “Hey fellas,” Seth the bartender calls from wha…” behind a beer tap, “What’s the good word?” Ralph interrupts me with an odd sound- Seth is an older guy, mid-forties or early ing cackle that pierces the music issuing from fifties. Tall and engaging, he seems to find every the jukebox. His laughter sounds similar to the person he talks to interesting, and unless he is a sound a neutered pterodactyl would make if skilled actor, he generally enjoys his job as a full one were to wrestle it to the ground and tickle time bartender and partial owner of a small bar it. It is also, by far, the fakest sounding laugh ever and grill. uttered by man. Seth walks over to our side of the bar. Greg leans his chest against the edge of “You guys here for a little of the hair of the dog the bar and looks past me at Ralph. that bit you?” He is also a pro at using conversa- “Good job, Pacino. You sound like you’re tion-starting clichés that were long since beaten having your ballsack gnawed off by a wild ani- dead by every socialite in existence. mal.” “You know it,” Greg replies.“Get me a Ralph’s version of laughter dies down. “It Corona.” was your idea, man. I’m just trying to stick to Ralph asks for a Miller Lite draught and a the plan.” shot of “whatever liquor you put your hands on “But I didn’t tell you to do it right away. first.” I order a Budweiser. We grab a seat at the You have to play it cool for a bit.” end of the bar to wait for our drinks. Ralph, red faced, is on the verge of retort- I scan the stereotypical sports memo- ing when the bartender comes back with our rabilia covering the walls, noticing nothing I drink order. Seth places them in front of the ap- haven’t seen in countless other bars. Images of propriate person and smiles. the Philadelphia sports complexes and team “You guys running a tab again?” He asks. pictures from all four major sport franchises “Yea,” Greg replies, “And get another round hang amid various softball league bulletins and of beers ready. It’s going to be a long day.” announcements for current food and drink “Faaaaantastic,” Seth winks and turns away specials. The Clapton song ends and something to help another customer. sounding like Alanis Morissette starts up. I Pointedly not looking at the other end of look across the bar to the jukebox and notice the bar, Ralph says to Greg, “What do I do now? Ralph’s girl Natalie and the fat chick standing You’re stupid idea isn’t working.” in front of it, pressing musical selections on the Greg gives him a dead stare. “If you didn’t touch screen. laugh like a gay hyena, we’d probably still have I lean over to Ralph and nudge him. a shot at making you seem like you’re acting “There’s your girl now. Hopefully she’s not go- normal. Now, I’m not so sure.” He looks over ing to play anymore Clapton.” towards Natalie and the fat chick. “Oh well, both “That wasn’t Clapton, you jackass,” Ralph of them are looking over now. We might as well replies with a grimace, “That was Radiohead. go say hello. Come on.” They’re not even remotely similar.” His eyes “No man. No way. I’m not doing it. She wander in the direction of the jukebox. “Shit, I wants to come talk to me; she can come over. 17 Until then, I’m hanging here and drinking.” ing for me to look at her. “What the hell is wrong with you? You act “Hi, John.” Nervous laughter. “I didn’t like you’ve never spoken to a girl before. You know you were here.” have a girlfriend and you have already slept “Me neither,” I reply. I straighten up and with this one. What’s the problem?” look at Stephanie, face growing hot, “I mean, “Yea, but I’m usually drunk.” Ralph’s face uh, I just got here.” I clear my throat. “And the suddenly blanches, “Crap, I just made eye con- name’s Jon.” tact. Now she’s smiling at me.” His face tightens ` She giggles. “I know, silly. That’s what I into a strained smile and he gives a weak wave. said.” I open my mouth to correct her but real- He fires a dirty look at Greg. “Thanks a lot, dick.” ize it’s probably irrelevant. She continues, “So, Greg opens and closes his mouth but no what brings you here so early?” sound comes out. His face darkens. I let out a long breath. “Well, let’s see… I interrupt, “You guys are idiots.” I toss a I’m a loser who drinks too much. I hate my twenty-dollar bill on the bar and point at it. “I’m friends, but no one else likes me so I’m stuck going to take a leak. When Seth comes back, get with them, and I have nothing better to do.” I him to buy us a round of shots.” shrug. “What else should I be doing?” I walk towards the back and stay on the Oblivious, Stephanie laughs. “You’re pretty far-side wall, away from the jukebox, to avoid funny.” She takes a moment to let her eyes roam any uncomfortable conversation. As I am walk- my face. ing, the music from overhead and Seth’s loud, “Why are you here so early?” jovial voice intermingle into some kind of odd, “Oh, I work next door at the florist. Didn’t barely coherent garbling that causes a wave of I tell you that?” She doesn’t give me a chance nausea to come over me. My sober condition is to answer. “Anyway, I just stopped over to have beginning to feel like a liability. lunch with Natalie and her friend. My boss let I reach the back wall of the main room, me go a little early today so I wanted to try and quickly hop up a short flight of stairs onto a have some fun. I mean, who gets out early on landing, and head towards the second bath- a Tuesday? I might as well take advantage of it, room placard protruding from the right hand right?” wall. Concentrating more on my full bladder “Yea, I guess,” I reply, “But why this place?” than on my surroundings, I am surprised to “Well, like you said,” Her eyes move off my experience my life, and the sanitary state of my face, confused. “What else should I be doing?” pants, flare through my mind as the women’s An awkward silence falls over us. I look room door flies towards my face. I attempt a down at the floor and shuffle my feet from side clumsy dodge. But with my mouth uttering to side. She looks at an O’Boyle’s flyer hanging something that sounds intellectual—kind of over my shoulder announcing drink rates for like “Guh”—I stumble a bit and end up falling happy hour. The Alanis Morissette song ends to a knee to avoid sampling the assorted flavors and a leaden stillness drags out. of cigarette butt littering the floorboards. “Uh, I hope your friends don’t play any- “Oh, I am so sorry,” feminine laughter, “I more Alanis,” I offer after a few moments pass didn’t mean to open the door so fast.” I catch a and can still think of nothing interesting to talk waft of a familiar scent, a glimpse of dark hair. about, “She’s a little…depressing.” My memory flashes in recognition. Stephanie’s laughter lights up the air, Face turned downwards, I mumble a “Okay, I’ll tell them, but that was actually a guy quick “It’s okay” and make a long show of at- singing.” She places her hand over her mouth tempting to brush something off my jeans. Yet to stem her giggles. “I’m sorry. You’re not very there is nothing really on them. I can feel her good with music are you?” eyes on me as she stands there, patiently wait- “No, I guess not.” 18 “You make me laugh,” Stephanie lays her on a Tuesday afternoon, I stare at myself in the other hand gently on my forearm. “Come over scummy bathroom mirror as if it were an oracle with my friends, they’ll love you. I was talking from which I can somehow glean self-knowl- about you the other night to them and they re- edge, but, of course, I get nothing. I go over the ally want to meet you.” facts of my current situation: there is an attrac- “I, uh, I don’t know. I’ve got to um…,” My tive girl outside the bathroom waiting for me to brow beads with sweat and my bladder feels come to my senses and talk to her; the people ready to explode. I had almost forgotten why I I call friends are getting more and more intoxi- came this way in the first place. I look towards cated because they feel this is what they should the men’s bathroom door. “I don’t know,” I be doing since life has offered them no escape mumble. I am starting to feel more confused from being themselves, and I stand motion- with each passing moment. less, as I always do, waiting for an answer that I “Come on,” she smiles, revealing a row of know will not be useful. white, even teeth, “I’ll let you buy me I recall back to a day when I was a teenag- a drink.” er and in high school. I was like most kids that Stephanie obviously remembers a differ- age, dumb and unaware of it. One day in par- ent set of events from the other night than I ticular flashes to mind: a morning I had to take do. I recall being brooding and standoffish—my a World History exam in sophomore year. At the usual demeanor—while Stephanie apparently time, I would do my best to fail tests so I could recalls me being charming and funny, neither fit in with the other morons I hung around of which I’ve ever been. She must have been with on a daily basis. A Mr. Carnegie taught this drunker than I thought. Yet somehow, I am still particular history class, and Mr. Carnegie was left wondering what the hell is going on. And a teacher who was incapable of doing his job, with no answers and no clue, I stand perfectly which was mainly teaching and keeping order still and stare at her, waiting for something to in the classroom. So, as a result of his shortcom- come to mind. ings, Mr. Carnegie would automatically pass Minutes pass. Stephanie’s brow furrows, every one of his students with a “B” grade, re- “Are you okay?” She looks at the beads of sweat gardless of whether or not the student actually now freely running down my face. completed any course work. This was his way “Yea,” I say, “I…I’ll be right back.” of not looking incompetent to the school board. I quickly slip past her. Fumbling momen- On the particular day in question, Mr. tarily at the doorknob, I tear open the men’s Carnegie was giving a true or false history room door and leap into the bathroom. Harsh exam. The students taking the exam, which I neon lights and the sharp scent of abused uri- was a part of, had to fill in with a pencil either nal cakes assault my senses as I scamper across circle “A” or circle “B” to signify their answers, the dingy floor to the nearest stall. Above the with “A” meaning “true” and “B” meaning “false”. flushing handle, written in black marker on the So, in a fit of inspiration, I decided to fill out tile wall, it reads “You have a nice penis. Call me the letter “C” for all fifty questions asked on the 215-555-2765” and I wonder if anyone, besides exam. me, took a moment to ponder the offer. As I come back to the present, I stare at The pressure on my bladder relieved, I this broken mirror and at a reasonable facsimile walk over to wash my hands. An unwashed, of my own visage. Yet it is not exactly me. My cracked mirror hangs above the stained porce- own face—high cheek-boned and dark eyed, lain sink; I take a long, deliberate look. pale and unshaven—stares outwards but back- “Well, Jon,” I mutter to myself, “It’s good to wards with the two opposing sides distorted, know you’re still an idiot.” slightly uneven, and entirely unremarkable. As I stand in the filthy bathroom of a dive This is my reflection, my life, or what passes for 19 one now days. I have no idea how I got to this we kiss and Greg’s voice yells something I can- point. And despite the fact that I’ve been asking not comprehend. After a few moments, we pull myself the same questions over and over, the apart, short of breath. I tear my eyes away from answers I give, much like Mr. Carnegie’s class, Stephanie’s and look around at the bloated, are neither wrong nor right. They aren’t even ruddy faces of the patrons throughout the bar, answers. all of their collective attention seemingly fixed I leave the bathroom and pause at the upon me. Their dull stares, unfocused and glassy, bottom of the steps that lead back to the main remind me of department store mannequins, room. I survey the scene. Ralph and Greg are only less life-like. still seated near the entrance. Greg is speaking I look back at Stephanie. “Can we just to an older guy seated close by, both of whom get the fuck out of here?” are highly animated and deep in conversation; Face blushing, she nods and slides her Ralph has his head tilted back, eyebrow rings hand into mine. I grab hold and pull her glinting in the bar light as he guzzles a beer along towards the exit, ignoring the fat chick’s with Seth cheering him onward. Natalie is startled, “Steph!” I hear Greg calling “Dude!” standing away from her friends openly watch- from across the across the bar, while a scattered ing Ralph with a blank look on her face, and assortment of customers give a mock cheer. I Stephanie is laughing at something the fat chick keep my eyes focused on my escape and burst is saying to her. Meanwhile, an odd assortment through the doors into bright sunshine. of lonely older men and young underachievers Face upturned, soaking in the sun’s rays, fill out the rest of the bar on this Tuesday after- I pull in a long, deep breath of cool afternoon noon. air. I blow it out and look at Stephanie, who has My eyes flick back to Ralph, who is still her head tilted to the side and a smirk on her chugging away as if he were a twenty-year old face. She’s gazing back at me. frat boy fresh into college without a care in the “So, what do you want to do?” She asks. world, and not a thirty-year old, jobless, clueless, I smile at her. “Anything,” I reply. “Abso- and just breaking into half adulthood. I shake lutely anything.” my head. My eyes go back to Stephanie who notices me standing at the end of the bar. She looks at me and I, maybe for the first time, look at her. She smiles. Jesus loves you but everyone else thinks you’re an asshole. Well, maybe not everyone. I make a beeline towards Stephanie. Upon reaching her, I grab Stephanie’s wrist and swing her around to face me. And then time seems to decelerate. The fat chick registers my presence and her hostile, most likely hungry, eyes slowly bore into me, while Stephanie begins a wide-eyed greeting. I ignore both and shoot my face forward to lock my lips on top of Stephanie’s. Her face initially scrunches up from shock, which hardens her mouth into a taut line, but after a few agonizing seconds of nothing, her lips respond to mine. Catcalls rain down upon our ears from around the room as

20 Tamicka Stephens

21 Gratitude’s Worth

by L. Anita Norris

When my tears fell, you never held me close When my blood spilled, you’d cringe at the stained rug When my heart broke, you took me to your favorite stripper

You never let me feel You never let me down

You stood by me in the rain And gave me a straw for the flood

22 Nate Stone

23 Qaadira Muhammed

24 Sophia Quach

25 Inevitable by Fiona Hendrix

Alas, who can stop the season door from shutting on spent summer days?

The graying sky weeps as death overtakes its world in bursts of color.

Trees shed their garments, unable to stop the wind; gold litters the ground.

The earth breathes; each life depending on the rhythm: steady, a heartbeat.

From dust to mere dust, we are all fragile creatures: Falling prey to fall.

26 Valerie Nicolyuka

27 The Sailor

by Robert D. Lambert

The sea rolled under the Homeland’s hull. home when he could, always promising Margie Dark clouds moved in from the horizon, illumi- an extended shore leave. But the sea still called, nated by heat lightning in the humid summer refusing him his land legs and beckoning him sky. No stars made their appearances tonight, to deeper and colder waters. Try as he might, nor did the moon take its normal place in the his watery mistress would not be refused. sky. The little schooner, at full sail in spite of the Michael grew fast and strong. He could storm, rode towards the clouds undaunted. coil a line with little help, and held a tiller at At the helm, Seamus Leary gripped the sixteen with more control than men twice his ship’s wheel in his cold, gnarled hands. The age. As he grew, Seamus saw a longing begin to Homeland was his ship and livelihood. Never form in the boy’s eyes, a far away look of a man before would he have taken her out on the ensorcelled with that great, blue-green mistress choppy waters of a night squall. He could hear of the deep. Seamus, wanting more for the boy the voices now, his friends talking dockside than the life of a sailor, did what he could to over the next few weeks, asking why. Why was drown out the call. the Homeland out on that stormy Nantucket Seamus paid, out of pocket, to send night? Why was she at full sail? And, the biggest Michael to some expensive school in Michi- question of them all, why was the aged Seamus gan that trained engineers. He thought the Leary manning the tiller? boy could build docks or something, a happy The waves became stronger as Seamus medium between land and sea. Michael was a lit his pipe, tossing the match to the floor. His book learner, and earned a degree in Marine friends will probably say he was drinking, as Engineering. Proud Seamus and his Margie flew he had in the past. They would say he went on to the graduation, chattering to anyone who a bender and cast off, unaware of the weather would listen about their boy the engineer. Sea- report. Anyone who thought that would be mus, who had never wore a tie until that day, wrong, though. Seamus had set down the booze felt out of place amongst the crowd of well- shortly after his son, Michael, was born back in to-do fathers and mothers. No matter what he ’65, never touching a drop thereafter. did, Margie still said he stank of brine, a smell as Some days he thought he should have normal to him as spices to a chef. kept drinking, now more than ever. Dropping Michael worked for a time in Michigan the booze had always been a meaningless com- for the Port Authority. After he was laid off, he promise in a never-ending argument. His wife found a job as a laker on Superior. But the sea Margie, the kindest and most bonnie lass he had still called to the boy, and it was not long until met, didn’t mind the rum, or the wine a Sun- Michael found his way back to Nantucket, a day meal had to offer. The booze was not the mate on the Round Robin. They had a terrible problem, it was the sea. She begged Seamus to row about it, Seamus and his son, until Michael find another job after Michael was born, fearful stormed out of his parent’s house, vowing to the boy would lose his father to the waves. But never return. He kept his promise, with the Seamus, an old-fashioned sailor, could not resist help of a strong wind, shoddy knot work and a the call of the sea. He worked hard, and pro- free jib arm. They never found his body. Just his vided what he could for his family, even socking hat, the hat Seamus wears now. a bit away for Michael to go to school. He came Margie lost control when she heard the

28 news, pounding Seamus’s chest, screaming foul of every wave. The cursed sailor from hundreds curses that sounded fouler from her sweet lips. of sea stories lived within Seamus Leary, a man Seamus just held her, staring out the window at damned to a death as torrential as the lives he the sea that betrayed him, asking why. He flexed gave others. his hands, his face growing redder with each Seamus threw his pipe into the waves of his wife’s sobs. The sadness of losing his boy and held the wheel as the full fury of the storm was overshadowed by his rage. When Margie settled around him. A great swell came up. The had cried herself to sleep, Seamus slammed seas deadly embrace reached out to take him. his fist into the wall, knocking down Michael’s With a feral cry, Seamus steered into the swell, graduation picture. He looked down at the bro- the sails snapping in the wind. He would not ken frame, and saw the boy’s face smiling out keep his mistress waiting. from under the shards of broken glass. The tears came, and Seamus cried as he clutched the picture, its broken frame cutting his hands. He gave everything to the sea, more than he ever gave to his family. Why did it take his boy? Margie stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped living. She just sat in her chair, holding Michael’s baby blanket, stroking it with hands disconnected from reality. She stared out the window toward the sea, her eyes searching in vain for her lost son. Seamus could do nothing but watch her pine away, silently begging for her to come back to him. She never did, drift- ing farther and farther into grief until her body failed. Seamus buried Margie in ’91, almost a year after Michael died. Their family plot now housed another polished stone. Shortly after the funeral, Seamus sent his will to the Port Authority for safe keeping. Everything, from his house to his clothes, was to be auctioned off. The money was to go to the Port Authority, to maintain the buoys and re-plank the docks. The docks his family had walked on together on countless Sunday after- noons. The rain pounded Seamus hard, driving down around him, his salty tears mixing with the storm water on his face. The Homeland pitched and rolled against the sea, the harsh mistress that had taken everything from the sailor. Now, it wanted to take him. He could hear it calling, screaming his name in the crash

29 Quiana Dayle

30 Laura Gaylord

31 How to cook for a benefit

by Martin Wiley

You can’t use too much garlic Though for some crowds you can never use enough I like to stick to the classics Black-eyed peas and collard greens Food that leaves a trail down your tongue on its way to your stomach With these you can never go wrong But you have to know in advance This, you see, is not fast food This is food you have to mean to make First you soak the beans Overnight Then you must scrub the greens Just right Turn on the heat Sometimes it’s as easy as twisting a knob Next: the oil coating the bottom of the pot I prefer sesame But olive is never a let down Keep the heat at a medium Burning all the oil helps no one But once you’ve got it going, just right It takes over The oil is almost a meal in itself The smell of it rising from the deepest depths of your hunger This is what makes a house into a home This is what makes a cook into a chef Several cloves of garlic The trick is Once you think you’ve put in just the right amount Add one more If you like, this is where a chopped hot pepper slips in Jabenero makes the collards feel braver But cayenne tastes better Two small onions, cut in big chunks Floating around and drinking it all in Pinch of salt Hint of black pepper Little bit of curry

32 And a little more cumin The best way I know to impress your neighbor is with a whiff of this And after it steeps and stirs The collards Cut in slices Glide right in Let them dance around Give them a chance to meet the neighborhood Then, when the water comes, they’ll be prepared Cover them, about half an inch deep Put a lid on it Let it sit The black-eyed peas, almost the same Only this time, start with margarine No butter Because you know someone’s going to be vegan And unless you feel like dealing with that all night just let it go Food is about connection, after all Let the garlic sizzle Then an onion Diced Pinch of salt touch of pepper While that’s dancing drain the beans Shake loose from their water Slip them into the pot Let them put on a coat of flavors and scents Then cover them with water And let them sit All there is to do now is stir All there is to do now is to think of who is going to eat All there is to do now is to remember Saying, “Dinner’s ready” can mean more than I love you Can mean the same as I love you Can mean more than any other two words in the entirety of spoken language Keep an eye on the food Watch the heat Replace water as needed Keep in mind: Collards are like any other organic organization Once it’s done its job

33 It will begin to fall apart on its own All you have to do is let it Add some salt to taste Add a touch more margarine to the black-eyed peas And don’t let your wooden spoon go to waste Once you think it’s done Call a friend over to taste Not because you need their help But because you need their praise Turn off the heat Tighten the lids Get a friend to help you carry it all (You’d be surprised how many friends you have once the food is done) Set it up where people can find it by the scent When it comes to collards we all have a bit of the bloodhound in us We may not have a million dollars to drop into the blind man’s cup We may not have a name that demands attention Or a voice that eases tension We may not get on the radio with regularity Or break rules with impunity Not everyone can be the rock stars of the left I know I cannot feed all of Africa from my kitchen But I can feed those Who take the streets to be free Who make every breath they take Feel like taking a stand And all those who strive to create A new world, a place Where everyone gets to make Black-eyed peas and collard greens For their own benefit

34 Shawn Wilson

35 John Warrick

36 Jauhien Sasnou

37 The Party on 30th Street

by Kelly Morton

Sophie didn’t realize until they walked they wouldn’t respond if she ordered them to around the corner of Poplar Street that they take a step. were in Nick’s old neighborhood. When they He raised an eyebrow and she forced a reached his block she asked Jeff for the address smile in return. “I don’t really feel up for it to- of the party. night. Do you have to go?” “1256 N 30th St,” he answered, his voice Jeff’s hand dropped. “Are you sick?” timbered as though he had been breathing She shook her head no. evenly his whole life. She stopped at his words “Well, I have to stay for a little bit. Two even as she was soothed by the tone. That was drinks then we’ll leave, alright?” it – that was Nick’s address. She fidgeted, her She weighed her options. On the one fingers flying to the familiar cold stone of her hand she could leave and have him go to the earring. The neighborhood had changed drasti- party alone-- but then she’d have to explain cally in two years. There were flower boxes herself and she didn’t want to do that. Or she in the windows and almost every house was could suck it up and go, exorcise old de- freshly painted. When she had been here last mons, be an adult. “What would Jung say?” she the neighborhood had been half abandoned. mocked herself. It was all so much easier in Plywood lined windows and trash littered the theory. She was frozen with fear, yet something sidewalk. told her that she was going to go to the party, The block was dark; the streetlight at least and not just because she didn’t want her boy- had not caught up with this mass renovation. friend to think she was crazy. But even as she Jeff had stopped beneath a tree, turning to find stood there-- her spine crawling with adrena- out why she had fallen out of step with him. line, her skin and nerves alive to every shift of She caught up to him and stood, playing with wind, every passing car, every crease and billow her earring, knowing if she continued the back in Jeff’s oxford shirt- another feeling grew in would come off and possibly fall onto the dark her. She was compelled to go into that house. pavement instead of tipping safely into her A part of her demanded it, had been demand- palm. ing her return for the past two years. And in a “Who did you say was throwing this par- second she conceded, acknowledging that the ty?” she asked, hating how small her voice came wall she had built in her memory was starting out. She knew this time his answer wouldn’t to crumble. Empowered by the flow of adrena- be one she recognized but she wanted to hear line, she took a step toward the house and Jeff him say something foreign so the familiarity of followed. the address would lose its power over her. She “Soph, if you’re sick, we can go home. You felt weightless and dizzy, his hand rested on look a little flushed.” her shoulder now and she was thankful for his She smiled and avoided his eyes, knowing weight. that he could read her and afraid of what truths “Nadine and Phil,” he answered. She were playing in her eyes. To compensate for her laughed to herself, such conservative names deception, she leaned into his side, reaching up for a house like that. He kept speaking, explain- to stroke the curls at the nape of his neck. ing how he knew them. She felt her feet grow She rested her head on his shoulder for clumsy in their summer heels; she was certain a moment and murmured, “Let’s not stay long

38 though, okay?” With his left arm around her gaze drifting to the hardwood floor, littered waist, Jeff rang the bell with his right hand and with paint tubes and newspapers. Nick’s hand she couldn’t quell the dizzy, endangered feeling opened and she put the tea into it reflexively. of standing on a high dive, about to jump or fall. He handed it back and she nudged her shoul- Nadine answered the door and her smile der blade into the crook of his arm, scratch- was a blur to Sophie. She seemed to be overly ing an itch against the fiber of his shirt. “Dude, animated, her hands waving around as she you live in a flophouse.” hugged Jeff. She turned to Sophie, “We’ve met He nodded vigorously. before.” “I mean it’s one thing to be an animal Sophie shook her head, “I don’t think so.” activist, and another to turn your home into Nadine was not convinced, “Maybe in a halfway house for wayward roaches.” passing.” He shrugged, jostling her arm and spill- She forced a smile and felt her jaw clench. ing hot tea on them both. “What can I say, I If she let them, her teeth would start chattering. love the crunchy little fuckers.” She cringed. He Jeff guided her through the entryway, his hand could always gross her out. Even when she on the small of her back and she wanted him started it, he always took it to a different level. to keep his hand there – propel her along, keep “Yahoo, doray, yahoo, doray” he sang along her upright. But then again, that’s what he’d with the TV. She sat up to look at him, smirk- been doing since they’d met. ing with love. He pulled her back to his shoul- Her eyes flew to the top of the steps, as der “Stop it’s cold without you.” though she were expecting to see someone she She was on a black leather sofa now, lean- knew. Her body was turning on her, rebelling ing against Jeff’s back as he sat facing an older against her forced calm. She forced her eyes man across from them. She heard her name and and thoughts away from the top of the steps smiled at them, but she could feel that her eyes and back to her hostess. Nadine was leading weren’t focused. Jeff had introduced the man them into the living room and Sophie let her, earlier, Dr. Langston, although he wasn’t a medi- although she could have walked through this cal doctor, she forgot what his field of study house in her sleep. was. She heard Jeff presenting Dr. Langston The living room was different, blessedly with the neatly packaged biographies of their different. The walls were a violent pink and the lives “Sophie went to Widener for Psychology, curtains and furniture were black. The color I’m at Temple for Law, we met in the Central shocked Sophie out of her memory for a bit Library...” It sounded so flat to her. But she and she laughed out loud. Jeff hugged her to supposed that was accurate. She remembered him and bent to her ear “Be nice,” he grinned. that she had been reading a book of Bukowski “No, no, I love it!” she replied truthfully. poems when they met. She had been startled She loved that it was different. Still, her mem- when he sat down next to her and started talk- ory seeped through and she saw milk crates ing. He seemed like the type who would keep filled with albums along dingy white walls, a to himself. The conversation was all small talk beat up old stereo, bookcases overflowing with but she immediately recognized the effect he tattered paperbacks, an old ugly sofa. had on her. Her breathing had slowed as if mim- She and Nick sat on the sofa, watching icking his. He was a human sedative. Christmas specials. They were sitting as they She patted Jeff’s back, as if in apology for always did; limbs entwined so they were as her stark thoughts. Dr. Langston glanced up at close as possible. She sipped at her tea, her her, “Psychology, eh? Is it true what they say 39 about psychologists?” Sophie smiled inquisi- mother’s decorator, her thin arms waving to tively. “They say most people enter psychol- gesture at a poster then flying to point out the ogy because they are troubled themselves and curtains. want to solve their own neurosis and then help Sophie’s thoughts wandered, then she others do the same.” Dr. Langston looked at her asked, “How’s your landlord?” Nadine’s hand archly, as though he were expecting her to be froze and she stared at Sophie in confusion. shocked. “Excuse me?” she asked, her eyebrows Sophie smiled genuinely at him “Well, furrowed, her face sharp and clear, still for there may be an unconscious drive...” She once. Sophie realized that she was being abrupt laughed softly to show she wasn’t offended. and strange but she didn’t want to spend her Turning to Jeff, she mouthed “water” and point- evening small talking with this woman of pink ed to the kitchen. walls and black curtains. She was being pulled He nodded and turned back to Dr. Langs- and pushed by something bigger, more im- ton “It’s funny you should say that, I originally portant. She hadn’t the time or the energy for got my bachelor’s in journalism and once diversions. Nadine looked as if Sophie were wrote a piece on ...” His voice trailed off as she speaking a different language that she had to reached the dining room. concentrate very hard to translate. She had almost reached the kitchen when “Your landlord, is he good, about mainte- Nadine intercepted her. “Sophie! I’m dying to nance and things?” get to know you!” Her dark curls shook around Nadine’s face cleared and blurred again her face and again her smile was a blur. Sophie into a large white smile, “Oh! No! We bought guessed it wasn’t just her nerves, this woman’s the place. It was in horrible shape at first but face just refused to focus. She felt herself smile, Phillip’s brother is a contractor and his people a weak attempt, but Nadine didn’t appear to no- came in and fixed everything! It needed a new tice. “How long have you and Jeff been togeth- heating system, new plumbing, new windows...” er?” She whispered, her head bent, a sly smile Sophie felt herself nodding, but as Nadine on her face. Sophie guessed she was attempt- turned to point out the ceramic tile floor, her ing to create a mood of confidential girl talk or gaze went instead to the window and the dark- something. Her eye was pulled to the kitchen ness of the night behind the glass. as if the ceramic were magnetic. “I know what I’m doing!” Nick grabbed “About a year, I think” she replied as she her around her waist and pushed her into a began walking to the kitchen. “Excuse me, I just chair at the kitchen table. Her elbow hit the need to get some water.” edge of the table hard but she was wearing so Nadine was in front of her in a second, many layers of clothes she didn’t feel it. Her blocking her way, apologizing. “Oh! I’m a hor- sides ached from laughing as she sat back rible hostess! My mother would just die!” So- and continued to watch him struggle to chop phie inched around her, thinking “die, die, die.” onions while wearing a huge blue parka and Nadine again pushed past her, into the kitchen. fingerless gloves. The counter around him was Sophie followed and was again met with a dras- littered with ingredients and dirty bowls and tic change. The kitchen looked like it had been utensils. All four burners on the stove support- professionally decorated, every inch planned ed a pot or pan from which steam billowed. out. The walls were chartreuse and cream, with “Baby, even if you could cook, you’d find French cafe posters and decorative plates on it hard to do so when you’re all puffed up like shelves. Nadine was talking effusively about her the Michelin Man.” She rubbed her hands to- 40 gether and inched her chair closer to the stove and I guarantee this dinner is going to be where it was warm. horrible and one or both of us might get hy- “See that’s the difference between you pothermia and die, I still wouldn’t want to be and me-- I was just thinking that you’re hot anywhere else because you’re here with me.” even when you’re as big as a Sumu wrestler She felt the same way- that there was a and you have to go and put my ensemble thrill in seeing how strong they were together. down.” He shook his head, pretending to be It made her feel invincible. She wanted to say upset. something in return but the moment passed. “Explain to me again why we don’t Nick was bent over the counter, chopping his just order a pizza and go to my place?” She garlic. She was mesmerized by his profile, his smirked and shivered, anticipating his re- hair flopping golden brown over his forehead. sponse. Suddenly he turned back to her, his eyes grow- “Because then the terrorists will have ing wide, “Hey, we should watch that movie won, Soph!” He threw a handful of chopped where the soccer team crashes in the moun- onions into a frying pan and stared at her tains and freeze to death.” incredulously. Sophie finished her water, routinely nod- “Nick, your landlord does not qualify as ding at Nadine. God, she wanted to cry. “There’s a terrorist. Slumlord maybe, but not terrorist.” a powder room back here, right?” She asked as He shrugged at her and murmured “po- she was walking out of the kitchen. tato, potahto.” Nadine was behind her “How did you “Did he give you an answer yet on when know!” a new furnace would be put in?” She glanced “Oh, you know these old houses...” She behind him at the window, black with night. left Nadine to figure out what that meant and It rattled occasionally with gusts of icy wind. closed the door behind her. Anything repressed “He’s not answering my calls at the mo- will eventually manifest. Her eyes ached as she ment,” Nick replied distractedly. He scowled stared at them in the mirror. She turned on the down at the recipe book then shrugged and tap and braced herself for tears but none came. pulled four cloves of garlic from a bunch. As She was surprised to see her coloring normal he chopped them he turned toward her and and healthy –vivid even. Comforted a little by caught her eye for the first time in the con- the fact that she looked vaguely normal, she versation. “Don’t you think its kind of fun opened the door and stepped back in to the though? I mean if it was just me, it’d be damn hallway, closing the door behind her. The light- depressing – I’d be just another destitute artist ing was dim and the hall was painted a very eating ramen noodles in the ghetto. But you’re dismal shade of tan, but Sophie could make out here and that makes it more like an adven- a square of color on the wall behind the door. ture.” He grinned at her and she grinned back. She stood staring at it, and didn’t move, even as She knew what he meant and she could she felt Nadine and Jeff come up behind her. see him getting all worked up, all full of life Nick’s hands covered her eyes. They and passion and she thrilled to it. It woke her smelled like turpentine. She wondered briefly up and made her feel everything more clearly, if she could go blind if it got into her eyes and like she was living in triplicate. thought that would be a really shitty birthday He lifted his knife from the cutting gift. She knew Nick had no money; his phone board and gestured to her with it, “It’s like had been disconnected earlier in the week even though it’s about four degrees in here 41 and they were threatening to shut off the elec- nescent. tric. The paint had dulled a little, but the sight She hoped he had drawn her a birthday of it was powerful. She felt her face wet with present. She loved his work, she was always tears. Her breath was hot in her lungs where trying to get him to join an art co-op or go to the pressure built as she forgot to exhale. Jeff’s school but he shrank from the ideas so much hands were on her shoulders and she felt the that she had let it drop. tension in them, she wanted to shake him off She felt how excited he was through his but she couldn’t seem to move at all. Her mind hands “I think maybe you’re really going to felt as though it was at the bottom of a well and like it.” She felt that they were in the corner of any thought or command was barely registered the hallway by the kitchen and powder room. by her limbs. Her body was responding to What a strange place to give someone a gift, it something else, some other part of her that she wasn’t very well lit back here. had tried to drown. He pulled his hands from her eyes and Nadine’s voice trilled behind her “Isn’t it she rubbed them for a second, and blinked, gorgeous? Phil just wouldn’t let the decorator glad to find that she wasn’t blind yet. Her paint over it. He said the artist has talent, who- vision was blurred and as it cleared she saw ever it was. And you know Phil’s owned two that she was staring at a portrait about 2 feet galleries-- one in the city and one in New Hope. by 2 feet, painted in oil, directly on the wall. It’s not exactly my style, you know, I prefer Nick had brought a lamp downstairs and modern art. And I think it’s a little childish, a plugged it in on the step so that light fell di- little like a fairy tale illustration.” rectly on it. She stared, in awe. It was her and Jeff’s hands were trying to turn her to him it was beautiful, his talent was unmistakable. but she was frozen and she fought him, keeping That caught her eye first. The painting glowed her body locked. with an inner light. Artistic license, he had Nadine continued, “Can you believe made her prettier than she was. She realized someone painted it right on the wall? I just she was holding her breath. Behind her she about died when I noticed it, it gives the place felt the floorboards bounce and sensed that a Bohemian air, I think.” This last sentence hit Nick was barely able to contain his Sophie’s mind, snapping it back up into action. excitement. She turned to Nadine with a sneer, but before “Why is it on the wall?” she whispered, she could speak Jeff looked over her shoulder. as though the painting was fragile and might “Hey, it looks like you!” His face was fall to pieces if she talked too loud. white. Was he sweating? Behind Nadine a small “I didn’t have any canvas or anything crowd had gathered, the hallway was cramped to paint on and I started sketching back here, and they struggled to see what Nadine was talk- because it’s out of the way and if it sucked, no ing about. one would see it. But then I started to like it. Dr. Langston was the next to notice, “Yes, Do you?” He asked, knowing she did. it does! How strange!” She nodded. Although part of her wanted Nadine balked, “I suppose.” Her expression to carry this with her all the time, another belied her agreement. part of her recognized that this painting Sophie laughed, it sounded sharp to her belonged in this house because here, in this own ears, like a bark or a cough. She pushed dimly lit hallway beneath Nick’s hand was past a few people who gaped at her, because the only place she would ever look so lumi- 42 she was painted on the wall or because they He deliberately misinterpreted her tone, “I’m noticed now in better light that her face was sorry, Soph, we should go home. streaked with tears. Jeff followed her into the “God, you should have said something ear- kitchen where she poured herself another glass lier, I wouldn’t have made you come.” He tried of water. to gather up their old roles, take control, take “What the hell, Sophie? Why are you care of her. crying?” He seemed frustrated, annoyed. She She looked at him softly, levelly. She wanted to tell him, but not for his sake. She sipped her water. “I can’t go yet.” The idea was felt an urge to confess. She remembered as a preposterous to her that she should have to child the relief of confession. The cool dark leave and all these strangers should stay. wood, the smell of incense, the feeling that She walked out of the kitchen and headed whatever small sins she had committed, every- into the hallway and up the stairs. Behind her thing would be clear and her soul would be she heard someone say, “Yes, it does, just like clean again. She wanted to go tell Dr. Langston her.” Her stomach flipped, and she tightened that she had another theory on why she had her hands into fists, wanting to smash the idea become interested in psychology. That it was that his painting should be reduced to a parlor the relief she felt in bearing her soul to another; trick for Nadine. She stalked up the steps, but that she wanted to learn to give that relief to her anger ebbed when she reached the landing someone else. It wasn’t until she was finished and she felt her lip tremble. with her studies that she developed the psy- She paused a moment before opening the chological problems that she would have to door to his room. She half expected him to be sort out. on the other side. The doorknob turned be- She looked at Jeff as she drank her water. neath her hand and she leaned into it, remem- He had lost his calm and with it his ability to bering how it stuck. Inside her mind threw lull her, and he could no longer distract her away the new decor immediately and replaced from her past, on the contrary, he had led her it with memory. to it. He seemed so far away. He didn’t belong She jerked awake at three in the morn- here. None of these people did. This house was ing. God it was cold. She sat up and squinted filled with ghosts and the living moved awk- around the room as though that would help wardly through its rooms. her find Nick in the dark. Then she heard “An old boyfriend, Nick, lived here.” They the toilet flush and he came back into the both recognized in the reverent hush of her room. “Good, you’re awake.” He jumped back voice how much she had loved him, this “old into bed beside her and pulled her to him boyfriend.” Jeff leaned against the counter and as though she were a pillow or a teddy bear. his hands played with the drawer knobs. Those Through her back she could feel his heart hands that had seemed so strong and comfort- racing, pounding its shaky rhythm into her ing, they were useless here and they knew it, ribs. His grip on her was constricting and she they felt their power lost. didn’t like that she couldn’t see his face. She “He’s dead, you know,” she whispered. turned to lean over him, her chin on his chest. She had meant it in her head to sound like the With her hand on the side of his face, she end of a story, but the truth leaked through and propped herself up on her elbow and leaned she could feel the tones of confession begin to down to kiss his eyes, his cheek. She smoothed warm her throat. Jeff nodded and she could tell out the crease at his temple and rested her he too wanted that to be the end of the story. head down on his chest, where his heart beat 43 smoother and calmer. dead.” His words were flat but she could hear “What is it?” She felt rather than saw how much it had rattled him. that his eyes were on the ceiling. She hugged him close, the breath of her “Did I tell you that Mark is back in bitter soft laugh warming the space between town?” his collarbone and her mouth. “Sounds to Shit. She cringed. She didn’t want to let me like a dream based partially on memory him feel it though. She only knew of Mark prompted by Mark’s return.” She wished she through Nick. He was a character in the story could have a firm faith in his resolve, against of Nick’s life, which was told to her bit by bit Mark, against heroin. She felt his pulse strong at night as they lay in bed, as she traded her under his warm skin, even in the dark room memories for his. But she hadn’t liked what it glowed tan with health and youth. she had heard about Mark, she had pictured Soon she heard him breathing heavily, him skuzzy and empty with plastic morals, already asleep but she lay awake for hours, bending at will. It was Mark who was driv- troubled and uncomfortable. ing the night of the accident that caused the Jeff’s hand was on her arm. It was distract- scar on Nick’s neck. It was Mark who had ing to have other people around her now. But convinced Nick to give up a scholarship to art she was aware of how worried he was and she school and drive to Mexico with him instead. didn’t want him to be upset. This man who It was Mark who introduced Nick to heroin, had never taken a panicked breath in his life, and Mark who disappeared while Nick was she wanted to quiet him. She was okay, her in rehab. thoughts were clearer now. Memories she had She didn’t like to hear about the time muddied up were sharpening and she felt the when Nick existed only for his next fix. She importance of letting them go. didn’t want to hold that image in her head. She entered the house and knew im- Yet he would describe it to her with hollow mediately something was strange. She had eyes, as if remembering alone could pull him been away for a week, at her own apartment, back to that lifeless time. He was so vibrant, studying for finals, writing endless papers. As so passionate it seemed like a defamation to she left school this afternoon, her last exam picture him as anything else. Also, she knew completed, she saw that she had two mes- that the drug had made him forget everyone, sages from Nick, made from the payphone at including the Sunoco near his house. The messages had himself. been strange, the first brief but intense with a She felt her stomach tighten and she need that she had never heard in his voice. He whispered into his neck,” You’re not going to asked if she could come over that night, but hang out with him though!” then his voice trailed off and she missed the Nick nodded, then said “I’m glad you’re last few words before his goodbye. The second awake, my little psychology major, what do was distant and lazy telling her he wouldn’t you think about this dream? I’m in a car, be home, so not to come by. Screw that, she but I’m not driving. It’s dark and whoever’s thought as she threw her phone into her bag, driving is dead or a ghost or something.” He checked her key chain to make sure she had paused and seemed to be trying to figure out brought his house keys and caught the next who it was “They’re speeding and I ask them northbound bus. She’d just wait until he got to slow down but they laugh and tell me it home doesn’t matter if we crash, we’re already The past couple years at finals he had 44 come to her place and thrown things at her going upstairs. Her eyes bore into the ceiling while she studied, rubbed her neck while as though she could see through it and pre- she bent over the keyboard. He had ordered pare herself. She heard footsteps again, but Chinese food with uncanny timing so that it these went back and forth, near Nick’s bed. arrived, just as she emerged from her fog and She tiptoed up the steps; every pore was stretched, whining, “I need to eat!” awake. She reached the landing and stared This year his disconnected phone had intently on the bedroom door. “Nick?” she stunted all communications. Without him she thought she had said it loud, but there was no had gone three days eating only soft pretzels, answer. She tried again, “Nick?” The door flew picked up from the food cart outside of school. open. They stared at each other. She was tense and grumpy. She felt like some- She stopped. She felt for a second that her one had been tying her spine in knots. blood had stopped in her veins. Everything She hung her bag on a hook by the door was still now. She felt like the air had turned and was surprised to see two jackets hang- to plasma, everything was softer. Nick was ing beside Nick’s. A black blazer and a pink moving so slow. He rubbed his flushed face, cotton hooded sweatshirt. He had said he his hair messy as though he had been sleep- wouldn’t be home. She tried to place that pink ing, but it was seven at night. sweatshirt but she couldn’t think of one of his Her heart was dissolving beneath her female friends who would be caught dead in ribs. It burned and melted. Alchemy, she such a garment. Her heart flipped and she felt thought, imagining her heart burning down her face flush. She shook her head, impossible. into golden lava. Nothing was solid anymore. Then she thought back to the weeks before He was still rubbing his face, like he finals. He had been distant even then but she didn’t know he was doing it, like the reverse had chalked it up to mood and focused on of a nervous tic. His eyes were so big. “Sophie?” studying. Her gaze drifted back to the pink his voice was thick. sweatshirt. She was getting ahead of herself. Shit. She looked for a mark on his arm But she couldn’t shake a feeling of dread. then realized she had no idea what she was She jumped at the sound of footsteps looking for. She felt so small, powerless against upstairs. She pressed herself against the stucco this fear come true. He was barely even there. wall, as if she were hiding from something. She closed her eyes, as if she could erase this A figure appeared at the top of the steps and picture from her concept of him. She felt the within seconds it was flying down the steps wrongness of it, the weight of the air between and rushing out the door. As the figure passed them, the distance where there had been her, she caught his eye. Mark, she realized, none. Her heart began to speed up again. although she’d never seen him before. His eyes Her awareness sharpened, she saw there was were flat and empty, his features sharp and fear behind his sluggish movements. His eyes elfin. shifted to the room and then back to her. She She thought of a demonic Peter Pan. She angled her head to see past him and saw a smirked and thought that would make Nick a girl’s bare arm draped over the bed. lost boy. Mark hadn’t closed the door behind Her eyes went back to his and in them him. She closed it and turned back to the steps. she saw only fear and distance. She turned She breathed deep and listened, certain cold. Slowly and methodically she moved to that nothing good was going to come of her the steps. As she descended she heard his voice

45 again, thick with drugs and sleep, “Sophie.” truth, that Nick’s death was not directly related Her eyes flooded, her throat choked and she to the heroin Mark had sold.” walked down the steps. That little boy voice, Jeff cradled his head in his hands. He it held a plea. She ignored the girl on his bed asked the question almost like he was an actor, for a minute and turned to him, his face was saying his line so she could say hers. “So how so open, so clear and terrified, she felt the pull did Nick die?” in his gaze, he was begging her to stay and Sophie whispered, “As tempting as it may for a minute she thought she might. Then a be to blame the drug, he was sobering up by voice whispered from the bedroom “Nick” and then. I imagine it’s hard to accidentally drown she felt herself shut down. She turned and ran in a bathtub filled with five inches of water.” from the house as though ghosts were after Jeff was always one to understand his her. role and he tried his best but she could tell he “I had always thought we were so strong was exhausted. “So you think he killed himself together but it turns out we were just hold- and it was all your fault.” His words were flat ing each other up, kind of leaning against each as though he knew he were not a part of this other. But when you do that, and one person conversation. moves away suddenly, the other falls. I was so Sophie blinked and walked out into the sorry for myself, so stupid and self absorbed.” hall. It didn’t matter anymore whether it was She had noticed Jeff begin to take a more her fault or not. Guilt was such a good distrac- confident shape as he listened to her. She could tion. You could function on some level while see him trying to fill in gaps in the story where burdened by guilt. Anger could fuel you-spur he didn’t know the background. you to action. But sorrow can only crush you “He was a junkie, and he cheated on you. with its weight, consuming your every thought. You can’t walk around with this saint complex, If you let it catch up with you, grief can spread what were you going to do, stay and help him like disease. At the door to the bathroom, she through rehab with his new girlfriend?” Jeff leaned on the frame and the house’s memory smiled at her wanly. supplied for her what her own memory had She shook her head, “No, that’s the thing. not been present to absorb. In the antique claw- She was Mark’s girlfriend. She overdosed. Mark foot bathtub she saw five inches of water and was kind enough to call the paramedics from Nick -the luster all gone from his golden brown a payphone on the corner right before he left hair; that tan healthy skin pale and blue. She town. She was dead by the time they got here.” remembered vaguely that she had been taught Jeff shook his head, confused and be- that there is a danger in unearthing what the wildered by the night and the story of which unconscious holds tight. That some things are he seemed to only know the ending. “You left held because they will destroy if allowed. though-- how did you hear about this?” She cringed. “The paper covered the story. It turns out the girl was from a wealthy family. When she died they put a lot of money and effort into trying to find Mark and bring him to trial for her death. I felt bad for them, but it sickened me that they tried to blame Mark for Nick’s death too. Finally they reported the

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