by Cole Savage
“Whatever, Maylene.” Maylene took the short walk to the kitchen, Nicki stood and stepped over to the window in the parlor, where cream-colored velvet drapes were pulled back, tied on bronze sconces, puffing with the wind. She leaned against the wall, giving her a full view of the mountains that framed the small town of Franklin—a neighborhood that belonged to a different era. The type of town Americans were nostalgic about. The late morning air outside was soft, the sun hardly above the milk-laden tips of the Appalachians, feathering against the sky— the ground moist with night fever.
“Have you lost all hope for reconciliation with Kyle, Nicki?” Maylene said from the kitchen.
“Yes, May. Once you’ve been through that grinder, you lose all hope because you already know what to expect, and I don’t watch reruns,” she said, her voice soft, her face tight. “I never saw or felt an emptiness like this, May. The kind of emptiness that now, will never be filled with someone other than Kyle.”
“I don’t blame you, honey,” Maylene said, walking back into the parlor with a bag of tortilla chips and salsa in a dipping bowl, which she set on the coffee table, then sat in her chair. Nicki was on the phone with Karen, staring blankly at the beautiful vista outside the open window, the breeze warm and drowsy, faintly tannic with the smell of fall.
“No, Momma, I’m at May’s house. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Maylene looked at her, through her, perhaps seeing a shadow of her grim landscape. Nicki’s shoulder was against the window, the hem of her dress an inch from her cheeks—enough to tease. The size of her buns lifting her already too short dress over the rise of her butt—almost. The light from outside filtered between Nicki’s legs in all the right places; her silhouette something to behold. Watching her in the window Maylene couldn’t imagine Nicki being gone forever in the wastes of history, along with every soul who ever knew her voice or took delight in her vastness. How is it possible, Maylene thought, with those beautiful hips, tiny waist and ample bosom that any dress could fit that figure. Then she remembered that Karen had sewn most of Nicki’s dresses. Maylene was captivated, in the throngs of Nicki’s essence, or, was it the white sheer panties that had her reeling— a partial picture she had captured earlier, of a puzzle she desperately wanted to finish.
“No, Momma, I’m not going to church.”
Maylene picked her phone off the end table and took a picture of Nicki standing by the window, for nostalgic reasons Maylene would tell her friends. Nicki’s conversation faded into background noise. Watching Nicki, Maylene sighed and thought, God, Nicki, is it possible that you’ve gotten sexier since high school? For God’s sake, girl, you’re my friend, what am I thinking? I’m looking at you and all I want to do is walk over, slip my hands under that dress, cup those cheeks, kiss your neck, and grab those breasts. I bet you didn’t know I could draw you from memory, from that day back in high school when we showered together, after the school mud fling. You undressed in the shower, and mud covered every square inch of your skin—what wasn’t covered by those too short shorts and too thin tank top— where a bra might have helped hide those pinpoint nipples. I sprayed the shower at you, not because I felt playful. I wanted to see the mud slide down your tits then down your hips. You destroyed me. I wasn’t gay until that day. Your nude essence remains seared in my memory. I wonder what you would say if you knew how many times I’ve been between your legs in my mind. God, I can’t get those white panties out of my head—was that a landing strip under that thong?
Nicki banging on the window, crushing a fly, caught Maylene’s attention.
A long pause.
“No, Momma, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
False alarm, you’re still on the phone. Five years back, in Louisville, you were clueless at that company junket when we danced the night away. With every dance you stoked the flames of my passion. I could see the outline of your breast from that too tight dress. It wasn’t cold, but I could see the points of your nipples. Tired of getting eye screwed by every goober, you told me to act gay— Hah! Dancing to ‘Faithfully’, our bodies close, shivers running down my spine, my head on your shoulder, storing to memory the smell of your hair, a married douche asked you to dance. You took my hand and put it on your breast, inside your dress to shoo him away. The hot skin of your breast closed my throat and took my breath away— a sensation I didn’t know existed. You’re the only person alive who didn’t know I was gay— who didn’t see how I looked into your eyes. Later, Tina Collie, that Bitch, asked you to dance and you did.
That night, at the Holiday Inn, we slept in the same bed and I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and yearned to place my hand between your legs. You wore an oversized t-shirt and a black thong to bed. So unfair. The rest of the night I looked at you, smelled your shimmering hair, touched myself when I really wanted to touch you. In the morning, I woke and you were there; spooning me, Kyle, Kyle, Kyle, you said. I didn’t move. I didn’t want you to wake, so I held on to your embrace.
But that’s not why I fell in love with you. It wasn’t your raw sexuality and physical perfection that people who knew you remembered the most. You’re like a baby in the woods, you didn’t see, couldn’t see the sheer heat of your sexuality. You have no idea how beautiful and erotic you are. You have no idea the queue of victims you leave in your wake. You’re so gullible, you think everything beautiful is fiction— even when you look in the mirror. In high school, the homecoming committee chose you for queen and you said no. You convinced them that Lori Beckley was better. You told them she was organic and innocent, that she should be the one. Were you talking about yourself or Lori, because I have never known a more grounded person than you. Whatever. Lori wore that crown around school like it was stitched to her head. You cried at homecoming when you saw her on stage wearing the crown. With tears in your eyes, you hugged her, the hug I wanted, needed from you. Lori, bless her heart, had Down Syndrome, and bless you, Nicki, for sparing her heart, for having the vision to see what the Homecoming Committee couldn’t see.
Come to me please, press me with the warmth of your lips so I can feel the thunder of eternal bliss. I love that you’re here, but you’re not here for me and it stings a little. I’m lying. It hurts a lot. You can’t understand how someone could love a person so much they can’t breathe knowing you can’t have them. But then again, you lost Kyle and I can see in your eyes how much that hurts. The beast inside me would trade my soul for one night, just one night between those thighs. I’m sorry for being insensitive to your ills, but some things can’t be turned off. You can’t turn the mind off. There’s no switch. Oh my, she dropped her phone. Go ahead, Nicki, bend over and pick it up.
Nicki dropped her phone, and Maylene stopped breathing for a second. Instinctively, Nicki bent over, enough to give Maylene a peek that revealed a white ribbon between her cheeks. Nicki looked back to Maylene, pulled a strand of her hair that covered her face and hooked it behind her ear. She turned her ass away from Maylene and went down to pick it up, her legs together.
No, no, don’t look back, just pick it up. No, don’t turn around, I won’t look. Did anyone ever tell you, you move like a poem and the sting of your bite never dies. Give me one chance, Nicki, I will amaze you, you will see.
“Maylene?” Nicki called. I know what it’s like to go day and night, always together, but never as one. Nicki, if I had one wish, I would wish you on me. I love you, I’ve loved you since ninth grade, and I always will.
“Maylene?”
“Hey,” Nicki yelled.
“I’m sorry, honey, I was thinking about work.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t get Momma off the phone.”
“It’s okay, take all the time you need.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, May, or what will happen to me. I feel like I’m lost and standing on a static train. The question is not whether I can be cured, because that isn’t an option, the question is how do I finish. You know, May, I’m a pretty tough gal, if it wasn�
�t for the Cancer I’d be fine.”
“Thank you, Captain obvious,”
“The doctor thinks I should get a second opinion in Morgantown. He suggested I start Chemo… May, if I’m gonna meet my maker, I’m doing it with a full head of hair. The least I can do for myself is hang on to my dignity. It’s not like I ever imagined going for Chemo, because I didn’t. I can’t see myself going in for a week of Chemotherapy, surrounded by a ward full of Cancer patients, who are also dying, doing their best to cope with it, and when you finally finish your weekly session, you go home to see your family and friends and everyone tries to act normal, like it isn’t happening. I can’t do it, May. My world can’t carry that much weight. I feel like I am going crazy, because I am, and I blame God because he built this shit-train that’s way too big for some, and its filling with the most terrible things imaginable, because the world doesn’t care if, and when I get off, and how much I suffer for it.”
“I’m speechless, honey. And that never happens. I think I’m too close to this and I don’t know what to say.” Maylene stood and walked to the opposite end of the window; across from Nicki.
Nicki turned and looked at her. “I didn’t go to Richmond with you so you could make me feel better… Right now I just need a friend. Someone that will listen to me. As bad as the loss of my kids will be, and this may sound shallow, but losing someone you can’t live without has been my biggest affliction. I had gotten over Kyle a long time ago, but lately I see him and me as an unfinished life, and it’s breaking my heart. And the bad news is that I never completely got over him, and I am so angry that he was able to move forward without me. But for me, this is also the good news because he lived past me knowing he broke my heart, and now he has to live with that long after I’m gone. Eventually he’ll get over it, but he’ll forever have to dance with a broken heart, because deep in my bosom I know that man loved me.”
“Honey, you’re breaking my heart.” Refocusing, Nicki said, “Maylene, you know what that damn doctor said to me?”
“I’m lying on pins and needles.”
“He told me that there are worse diseases than Cancer.” Maylene laughed and said, “Did he give you a greatest hit list, or show you a movie with a countdown?” Nicki laughed and said, “I guess when you are torn apart with grief, you laugh at whatever you can.”
Maylene came over to Nicki’s side and looked outside, following Nicki’s gaze. She stood behind her and embraced her, hiding her glazed eyes.
“Honey, go home and take a shower. Wash off the day, then go in a dark room and drink a glass of wine. Close your eyes, mellow in the silence and listen to your heart. If it’s still beating, then damn it, keep fighting.
Nicki seemed aloof, so Maylene added, “Nicki, what’s that thing called when a guy likes you as much as you like him?” Maylene said trying to change the station. “Oh, yeah— imagination. You see, Nicki, all through high school I didn’t have a single boyfriend. The first person I ever kissed was Molly, at prom.”
“Molly Mansfield?” Nicki turned quickly to face Maylene.
“There’s only one Molly at Franklin, dear.”
“Jesus, May. Is Molly gay? Better yet. May, are you gay?”
“No, Nicki, I’m not gay—not in the diesel dyke sense. I just play for both sides. I wasn’t like you in school, most guys thought I was a Leper. If you ever stopped walking in the hallway abruptly, twenty guys would ride up your ass, and I mean that literally.”
“You lost me at Diesel-dyke.”
“A Diesel-dyke is a raging Lesbian on steroids.”
“Wait a minute. That’s why you’ve been looking at me like that, isn’t it?”
“Like what?”
“The way Kyle used to. His eyes never went past my shoulders and strayed between my panty line and boobs… I bet he couldn’t tell you what color my eyes were, like I didn’t have a head.”
“Well, sweet sister, can you blame him? If I could trade body fluids with you, you would most certainly be the best piece of ass I ever had.”
“Ew, Maylene. That’s gross.”
“That’s a subjective statement, wouldn’t you say?”
“How long have you been gay, May?”
“Since the day that Molly kissed me. As a matter of fact it was your barbaric husband and his proclivity for violence that kept me from hitting a grand slam that night, at prom, with Molly.”
“Ew, May. Suddenly I feel violated.” Nicki and Maylene readjusted their pose, facing the world outside, and Maylene said, “Shut your pie-hole, Cinderella. I was a virgin when Molly popped my cherry the day after prom, at Hangman’s bluff.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Oh, my hell, May, I’m not listening.”
“I bet you stopped feeling sorry for yourself for about a minute, didn’t you? Listen, Nicki. The best way not to feel hopeless is to get up and do something. Don’t sit around waiting for good things to happen. Go out and make them happen. We all have to die. I never thought of you as the kick-around type… Look at me, honey.” Nicki turned to face her. “Hope is the worst present you can give someone when your promises are mere words, not a miracle cure. I’m sorry I can’t give you six hail Mary’s and call it good.”
Maylene leaned in close, her arms on Nicki’s shoulder, her lips close to her ears, and she whispered, her breath hard on the back of Nicki’s neck, “Honey, it’s times like this, when you give up and think the whole world is a battleground, that you turn around and face someone so beautiful and wonderful, someone that gives you a reason to live and love again, even if it’s a twinkle in time, and I’m not talking about me, unless you’re ready to bat for the other side. Despite my failed relationships, I do believe in fairy tale endings, so get out of this funk and go find your Prince Charming in Morgantown. Six months with him is better than six months with your thoughts,” Maylene’s breath like a feather. An awkward pause filled the air, then Nicki turned her head back to the mountains and heard a train whistle in the distance, followed by the sound of boxcars rumbling down the track with the brakes screeching, as the train slid down an incline.
Still looking outside, Nicki said, “nobody knows the real me, Maylene. Nobody knows how many times I sat around moping and crying. How many times hope kissed me then retreated. How many times the human race let me down, and I can’t begin to count the days I thought I was gonna snap. Even my closest friends don’t know the thoughts that go through my head whenever I feel like pulling the drain on my life, or the horrible nightmares that walk around with me like they’re my best friend.”
“Honey, even if you lose faith in everything else, please don’t lose faith in yourself, or you’ve already lost…Are you afraid to die, Nicki?”
“Not as much as I’m afraid to live without loving again. When I married Kyle every adolescent dream I ever had came to fruition. I had, in Kyle, my fairytale, and I was so happy when I got pregnant with Tyler because I thought having a child would keep Kyle’s head in our little world. Living with Kyle felt like I was shot at constantly, with near misses, and shit on with direct hits every time a rumor came to light about other girls.” Nicki paused to wipe a single tear and said, “I may be too young to lose hope for love and life, but I am old enough not to believe in promises… Kyle being the vein of all my problems, and the miracle cure. I cry even harder thinking of how it could have been, of how I imagined it would be. I cry for Kyle, too. Regardless of what he is doing now, I know deep in my heart he can never replace what I brought to the table. And I’m not talking about my physical presence. I know no one will ever burn his flame brighter than I could have had he stayed around long enough to find out. He might never find out what he’s lost, and that’s what’s breaking my heart the most— knowing what we could have been together. He is a big part of the reason I want to give up and die, because suddenly there is too much pain and there is no solution in sight, but a quiet escape from a life that was underwhelming, yet filled with so much promise… He was everything I wanted when we married, and in short
order, he became a cold vapor that wrapped around my heart, and still, I could never forgive him for what he did to me—to us”
“Nicki, this may be a revelation, or breaking news, but Kyle’s been gone for ten years. Can’t you get off that train and jump on one to happy land, even if it’s a quasi-happiness. There are other men in the world, even if it means getting out of this town that’s sucking your will to live.”
“You’re so inspirational, Maylene. Yeah, God. Please send me a dreamboat so he can watch me die in the next ten minutes. You’re a sadist, Maylene, and spare me your word vomit about your sad love stories, or lack of. I would rather have never met Kyle than lose him the way I did, and forego all the pain that filled my heart and head with dreams of untold cruelty.”
“I’m sorry, Nicki, for being so insensitive, I’m still not used to seeing you floundering. But people are dying, and each individual has to make his own reality and state that black is black and white is black, and never flutter, always taking precedence over substance and facts. Did you ever stop to think that God was preparing you for a lighter fall?”
“Do tell.”
“Well, imagine your happy family, Kyle firmly in the fold, and one day you’re down at Hadley Park feasting on fried chicken, laying on a blanket with your kids, and Kyle, faithful now, is throwing that look at you that drove girl’s crazy at Franklin, as the good doctor rolls up in his Karma mobile, or coffin on wheels, whatever floats your boat, and tells you that you have six months to live. How do you think that would gel over for Kyle and the kids? Crushing every assumption they had about their life with you on Earth—everything they ever loved leached from their heart in an instant… Maybe I can’t relate because I will probably never have my heart broken, but you’re a good Christian and I know that you believe that wherever were going is better than this, so quit sassing me and make the best of the time you have left with your kids.”
“You’re right, May. An irrefutable truth sometimes has a way of invading your soul, and I’m not a Nihilist, so I’m going to have to bare that burden. No, May. I’m not afraid to die. The fear is the Cancer. What scares me is what I’m going to have to go through to get dead. However, I am angry that I starved my brain of sustenance and spent sleepless nights shivering, instead of dancing with Kyle or eating ice-cream, and going home to a warm bed where Kyle was there, his mind on me. I spent the last few weeks waking up with spiders in my head, then I spent the rest of the day feeling like they went somewhere else. It isn’t the days, it’s the nights that bring my harsh reality to the forefront. At night I feel like a Milton Poem, with Lucifer descending upon Eden. At night, when thunder and lightning rocks Mommas house, I pray that dawn won’t come, that lightning will strike the house and burn my life to the ground— an easy way out so I won’t have to deal with people and explain to them, and to myself, how this could have happened.” Nicki picked up a few chips and ate them without dipping them in salsa. “Bless your heart, honey, I can’t begin to conceptualize your grief.”