by Candice Iloh
from the bible
on the eighth floor
of this building
that is too quiet
and too dark
before I can bury my face
into the side of Daddy’s leg
and scream NO
the door flies open
and an old white man
in a suit, no
hair at the top
says WELCOME!
with a strange smile
The way Doctor Matthew smiles
is like he knows something I don’t
so I already know I don’t like him
what kind of doctor is this who has us
come see him at night in this strange room
with a table, that has chairs around it
like my daddy’s office and where are
all the nurses and the ladies at the front
desk to take our names and the ladies
who come to take my height, my weight
and my blood?
There is nothing in this room
but this table
and these chairs
and that lamp
some toys
and us
I go to the toys while
Doctor Matthew looks
at both me and Daddy
like he doesn’t know
how much
my daddy has told me
if anything
comes to sit with me
on the floor
asks
so how are you feeling
today, little girl?
and I just roll the yellow truck
with its red wheels across
the carpet, back and forth
look back
wonder
if this is a stranger
that I can talk to
wonder
how long this doctor
has known my daddy
wonder
if I should
tell the truth
I had dropped Daddy’s hand
seeing
the toys thinking
it was safe to let go
and I look to my left
where he sits above and next
to me like stone and question mark
at the same time. his hand rubbing
across the folds at the top of his rippled face
as if he is pushing aside waves crashing against
his fingers, the way he does when he’s both tired and
without answers. but says go on. it’s okay. tell the doctor
what you told me
And I wonder if I can say no
today I am meeting Doctor Matthew
cause I told Daddy that I miss Mommy
cause I cry in my sleep and it’s the only thing that comes out
the only thing that makes sense
I try to make sense
of all the things my mind
tells me to say to this doctor
my mind wandering up
to the bare space of his
pale scalp and him leaning
in for my next breath
his reeking of
cigarettes and coffee
and I give him what he wants,
I want my mommy, I say
he replies,
I know. and how does that
make you feel?
Who is this Doctor Matthew
and what are these toys here for
if he won’t just let me play
I want to tell him that I like
that this small toy truck is yellow
and how yellow is my favorite color
how when I look at it, I feel like summer
and how I like that
the wheels are bright red
just like Mommy’s
lipstick
Little girl how does that make you feel
he asks again
and behind him I see
the toy with all the beads
and it looks kind of like a maze
but not really cause I know where
the beads have to go to get to the end
but maybe it is a maze cause the beads
can’t ever get out
Your daddy told me
you’ve been sad
what do you like
to do when you feel sad
I want to tell him
that I like to play
and that I can’t
get to the other toys
when he is sitting
in front of me asking
questions
my left hand squeezes
the roof of the yellow truck
pushes it hard and lets it fly
crashing hard into the wall past
Doctor Matthew’s leg
my right hand shoves
the beads I was gliding
to the other side of the maze
and the loud smack
makes me laugh from my belly
Daddy’s face twists curiously hearing it
I want to keep laughing
like this, close my eyes
and picture someone else
coming to play with me
picture Doctor Matthew
not being so close
But instead my chest begins
to burn and then my arms and then neck and then my face becomes so hot I don’t know what’s boiling inside it / I look to Daddy to see if he heard this stupid question / also to question how this doctor knows about Mommy / and then back at Doctor Matthew / and then back to my hands / I wonder to myself why I’m here and why we needed this old white man who is too fat / to ask me a question that Daddy could have asked / on one of our saturdays together / where I would slide along the freshly mopped hardwood floors / in between sips of his coffee / in between the small tasks I was given around the house / Daddy could have asked this / and then we wouldn’t be here / me, scared and searching for new words for this same feeling / this burning behind my eyes / and I reply, I told you, I miss her and think / doesn’t that say how I’m feeling, enough?
This becomes a back-and-forth
that lasts many more minutes, where
this doctor is taking notes and staring
too long and too deeply into the many
movements of my face as I spit answers
to questions coming from a stranger
I just met today
what I get at the end of all of this
is thick with lined paper, one spiraled
silver coil that begins at the top and ends
at the bottom, its cover a strange shade
of green mixed with blue and all mine to
scribble and draw inside
Daddy and the stupid doctor
stand to shake each other’s hands
this is how I know it is time to leave
but am glad I am leaving with this
small gift I hold it tightly to my chest
and smile, avoiding the doctor’s eyes
I don’t hold my daddy’s hand
on our way back to the two silver
doors that will take us back down
to the street I do not hold his hand
again for a while
COLLEGE
Standing in the doorway back in my dorm room
wet-faced
when my phone rings
Dad somehow calls me now
to see how school is going
to see how I’m coping
I can’t tell him
how I
couldn’t do this
how I couldn’t do this one thing
that all women
are supposed to be able to do
I can’t tell him
about the looks on their faces
the chuckles
the scoffs
I can’t tell him
they were looking at me
like a little girl
I can’t tell him
that I don’t know
why I was so scared
instead I tell him
through sniffles
being away from home
is hard
so many tests
and new people here
and he tells me
god is with me
that I’ll be fine
if I just
stay in my books
tells me
that he knows
because he prays
We always say amen at the end of prayer
when amen spread out
into two words
spells a-men
which doesn’t even
make sense
when there is only either
a man
or many men
either way
was taught early
one man or many men
only want one thing
and it starts
when they’re still
just boys
To the boys
next to others
like my roommate
I was still just a girl anyway
soft and quiet and new
probably figure I’d be
too ashamed
to tell secrets
probably think
this one would be easy
a glass-eyed doll
grateful for a look
a word
a hand
a smile
my way
Getting a job was one step on my way
to some kind of freedom
had one in high school and
had to get another if I was going
to abandon Dad’s plan for my life
but getting one
with the school’s basketball team
must be the worst job for women
looking to be taken seriously
given I’m the only girl
dumb enough to apply
just weeks
after calling a number I found
on a random flyer
just a floor above
the cafeteria
I get it
and start the same day
My first day
is sweat slick
with the hot funk of
season’s first practice
towels flung
without looking
hampers Coach says to keep empty
do the laundry
get the water ready
never be late
do what he says
keep my mouth shut
if I want this job
to last
The first guy
I let take my mouth in his
would lead me up to the faculty lounge
in Robeson Hall where the security
guards would never check
the hallways lit
at all hours
with the lounge
a perfect opportunity
to hide
Derek
ugly and short
but nice to me, sometimes
told me you got a smart mouf, you know dat?
didn’t care what came from it
as long as it made him feel good
I just liked
how he rested his hand
on the small of my back
and smirked warmly
when I would speak
me
he chose me
that had to mean something
right?
The moments would seem so right
just because
they were happening to me
the girl
Dad once said the boys
wouldn’t want yet
the girl
Dad once said was silly
for crying
over the boys
the girl
Dad didn’t prepare
for the ugly ones
the ones
so ugly
I didn’t see
coming
I didn’t see him coming
what?
Derek. he likes you.
no he doesn’t. he’s just nice. he’s not lookin at me like that.
trust me. most of the guys on the team think you’re cute. you want me to confirm it?
no they don’t (WHAT!)
whatever.
they don’t. you’re just fucking [must-sound-experienced] with me (REALLY?!)
okaay.
Derek’s Facebook profile says single
that dumb look permanently stitched
across his face might actually be
a wink
and a smile
His stupid smile
is probably
what convinced me to go
with him and his stupid friends
to a movie
alongside the other girl
that he stupidly invited
he said that she’s just his friend
that she didn’t have the money
to pay for her own movie
that I could have at least paid
for my own
snack
we sat on each side
of him and his popcorn
his lips parting
to show teeth and drop stray kernels
every five minutes
me only in control
of the mess on this side
And I guess it wasn’t that bad to not be in control
anyway right
it is the boy
who asks
the girl out
it is the boy
who pays
it is the boy
who makes
the first move
never mind if
the girl isn’t
liking the
moves
he makes
But to be chosen by someone
was all the right
I needed for now
his eyes lasering my lips
him wanting me around
it really didn’t matter
that I wasn’t the only one
that she was in the dorm
across the street from mine
that we had never talked about this
that I didn’t know how this even went
that the tears came with the truth
that all I wanted was to be the only
that all I needed was to be claimed
Dad claimed to know
all about how boys
were supposed to treat me
if he doesn’t treat you better
than I treat you
he isn’t good enough
but almost always
kept good enough to himself
kept his little girl close
kept his little girl blind
kept his little girl
wanting to know what better was
I didn’t know I could find better
than Derek
all I knew was that he liked me
and that was reason enough
to hold on
to look the other way
when he went to go see her
when he brought me things
that weren’t mine
when all we did was lay around
when laying around became
the only thing I knew
when the only thing I knew was
please
To please a boy
answer the phone
when he calls
respond
when he sends a message
be nice
when he is mean
be available
when he has time
be available
when she rejects him
be available
when he is bored
be ready
to be drafted
when she no longer
wants him
even if you
are just something
to do
He says
he likes me cause every time
he wants to chill, I’m free
and I was thinking
how each time he’s free
I’m really not, and trapped
by the dank of a boy’s dorm room
wishing his skin and lips
were actually soft
mad at this sad option
that looked nothing like what I want
him, what I might be able to have
him, a chance I should be grateful for
him tossing me a bone I reach for
cause it’s the only kind
I believe I can reach
Reach
/rēCH/
verb
to stretch out
an arm
in a specified
direction
in order
to touch or grasp
something
as in
when I’m bored
in Derek’s bed
sometimes
I reach for my phone
to watch
dance videos
on YouTube
as in