Returning to her apartment, Mary resists the urge to play her new record immediately. Instead, she pulls out her father’s albums, leaving the rest of the memory box untouched. She carefully picks her favorite songs and listens to them one by one, lounging on her bed and letting music fill the room. She is surprised at how easy it is to listen to her father’s music without also pouring over the mementos. Her ritual has always demanded tears. But at this moment, it doesn’t feel like she’s betraying her father, even with her cheeks dry and the mementos still in their box.
When she finishes listening to her song choices, she places her new album on the turntable and lowers the needle onto the first track of the second side, just as the record store clerk had suggested. First, there is the hiss, then the quick, rhythmic tripping of a plucked guitar. Moments later, it is followed by a soft drum, the deep, warm hum of a cello, and a whispering voice.
She lies across her bed, resting her head on her arm.
Totally chill
She closes her eyes, not opening them again until the side finishes and the needle rises. She gets up, restarts the same side and goes back to lying down.
What if Kristyn finds out about me?
It’s okay, she won’t be sleeping in here and, besides, I can control them now
You only THINK you can
I can, too. Just watch
She casts her mind inside her body. With greater ease than ever before, she finds the place inside herself where the black forms hide. She places two fingers on her lower abdomen and begins moving them in a circle. Within moments, she conjures up a small dollop of shadow from within her body. She holds the fingers up, thinking that they look like strange candles, with her fingers being the wax and the shadows a black and wavering flame. A faint sensation of warmth flickers across the tips of her fingers.
I told you so
S
“Do you know what time it is,” Mary asks Kristyn as they walk toward the store.
“NO. I left my phone charger at home when I left.”
“What happened with your parents?”
“Basically, both my parents are Nazis and racists and homophobes and I can’t spend another minute with them or I’m going to kill them, or myself, or both. I swear to God I am NOT exaggerating.”
“Oh,” Mary says, not knowing how else to reply.
“Plus, they’re mad because I didn’t tell them I was going to this music festival for the weekend.”
The girls progress up the street, Kristyn filling the space between them with stories of herself and her friends. The late afternoon sun warms them as they make their way through the crowds that are coming and going from the buses.
Kristyn stops short, grabs Mary’s arm, and points ahead of them, “Holy shit, look, it’s Van.” A few paces ahead of them, Van sits on a sidewalk bench, elbows resting on his knees, and the balls of his hands pressing into his eyes.
Kristyn laces her fingers into Mary’s. “Watch this. We are going to make him FREAK OUT.”
Mary smiles bashfully, allowing herself to be led by her friend.
“Hey, asshole,” Kristyn calls out when they reach the bench.
Van lifts his head slowly, staring at them with red, wet eyes.
“What?” he asks angrily.
“I just thought you’d like to know that Mary and I are girlfriend and girlfriend now.”
Despite what she knows of him, Mary is compelled by this image of Van, who now has such obvious sadness on his face. She feels a pinch in her chest.
“Fine. Why don’t you go march in a dyke parade or something?”
“What crawled up your ass?” Kristyn says.
“I don’t have time for your stupid bullshit,” he replies. Standing, he pushes past them and begins walking away.
Kristyn pulls her hand away from Mary’s and shouts at his retreating figure, “Okay! Fuck you, Solace!” She turns back to Mary. “God, what a jerk.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Mary asks.
“Who knows? I think his mom is sick or something. Let’s go.”
When they reach the shop, Mary can see her mother standing outside, digging through her purse.
“That’s her,” Mary says to Kristyn.
“Does your mom smoke?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Too bad. She looks like someone looking for her smokes.”
As they approach her, Mary’s mother looks up, smiling. Her smile fades as she stares quizzically at Kristyn.
“Hi, Sweetie, who’s this?”
“Um, this is Kristyn, we …”
“We’re in the same class at school,” Kristyn says. “I LOVE your outfit. Where did you get it?”
“Oh,” Mary’s mother replies, “I got it right here, at the shop.”
“Mary said you were cool, but she didn’t say you were, like, totally stylish and stuff.”
“She said that? Mary!” Her mother gives her a surprised smile.
“Oh, yeah, she’s always saying that.”
“She does? She’s so quiet, you know? I never know what she’s thinking.”
“She’s just shy.”
“I know,” Mary’s mother frowns lovingly in Mary’s direction. Kristyn looks at Mary, raising her eyebrows, silently cueing her.
“Is it okay if, um, Kristyn comes over tonight? To stay?” Mary asks.
After a moment’s shock, her mother replies, “Well … sure. This is so nice. You know, it’s so hard for her to make friends.”
“Oh, she’s a total sweetheart,” Kristyn says, wrapping one arm around Mary.
Her mother smiles. “She is, isn’t she?”
Kristyn inserts herself between mother and daughter, lacing her arms through theirs. “Coolness. Let’s go. It’s going to be a totally awesome girls’ night.” Turning to Mary, she gives a confident wink.
As they near the high footbridge that spans across the river, Kristyn says, “It’s so cool that you live over here. I love this part of town.”
Mary’s mother steps onto the bridge. “Well, our apartment isn’t much.”
Meekly, Mary adds, “I like it.”
“I guess it’s fine for now, until we get ourselves back on our feet.”
Kristyn breaks away from the small group and races toward the apex of the bridge. “This is the second best view in town!”
Mary hesitates at the bottom of the ramp, conflicted by a love of the arch’s wonderful view and frightened by its height. Even more so, she is unsettled by being on the bridge with both her mother and her friend. It feels like a transgression, a collision of worlds that were never meant to meet.
Mary’s mother pulls her forward and they move up the incline. When they are halfway to the top, Kristyn reaches the crest of the bridge. She places two hands on the ledge and, with a jump, push, and twist, seats herself on the edge.
“Oh, honey!” Mary’s mother calls. “Be careful!”
“It’s totally safe,” Kristyn replies. “We should all do it.”
Mary’s mother reaches Kristyn, holding out a hand to help her down.
Kristyn hops down. “It’s cooler if you lean backward. And it’s even more awesome if you have someone hold onto you. Then you can stand up on the ledge. You can see all the way from the university to the Walmart if you do that. You guys have to promise me you’ll at least try sitting on it sometime.”
“I don’t think so,” Mary’s mother replies.
I promise
S
Kristyn takes dinner plates from a cupboard and hands them over to Mary. Something seems to catch her attention and she reaches further in, pulling out a bottle of wine.
Turning to Mary, she asks, “Think your mom would let us have some?”
Mary shrugs, uncertain if she even wants to try it.
“Let’s find out.” Kristyn calls to the next room, “Barbara! I found some wine! Do you want a glass with dinner?”
Mary’s mother, seated at the small dining table, replies, “Sure, why
not? Our neighbors gave us that before we moved. There should be a wine glass somewhere.”
Kristyn reaches up on tiptoe, rummaging through the cupboards. Mary feels a twinge of anxiety when her friend’s hand emerges holding three juice glasses.
Kristyn heads to the table and Mary follows, setting the plates in position.
Mary’s mother stares worriedly at the three glasses. “Oh. Well, I suppose it’s all all right if you girls have a small glass. But shoot, I don’t know where the corkscrew is. I think we lost it in the move.”
“I got it covered,” Kristyn says. She reaches into the shoulder bag that earlier she had slung over the back of her chair. She pulls out a jackknife and flips open the corkscrew attachment. Grabbing the bottle, she places it between her thighs and puts the corkscrew into position. “I do this for my parents all the time.” She twists the corkscrew into the bottle. Then, straining, she pulls the cork free. “Ta da!” She offers the first pour to Mary’s mother. “Barbara?”
“Oh, sure, just a bit. And call me Barbie. It seems everyone does these days.”
Barbie
“Barbie! I love it! It’s like some kind of ironic girl-power thing or something.” Kristyn pours a large amount of sweet rosé wine into the small glass, nearly filling it. She then adds a small amount to Mary’s and a large swig to her own. “Cheers!” she says, raising her glass.
“Cheers!”
“Cheers,” Mary adds timidly. After clinking glasses, she takes her first sip.
S
Their ordered-in chicken dinners almost finished, Kristyn reaches for the bottle of wine and refills Mary’s mother’s glass for the third time.
“Oh, that’s too much,” she replies. “I have to work in the morning.” Her face is flushed.
“Don’t be a baby, Barbie baby, this will finish it off.” Kristyn gives herself the last few drops.
Mary sits quietly, as she has all through dinner, marveling at the ease of Kristyn’s interactions. She is taking her last bite when Kristyn says, “So, tell me about your ex-husband. What happened to him?”
Mary chokes at the sudden, frightening change in the direction of the conversation. She brings her hand to her mouth. She wants to speak, to warn Kristyn away from the topic.
“We’re not officially divorced,” Mary’s mother replies, “and there’s not much to say, really.” She looks down at her lap and begins smoothing out a greasy paper napkin. “It’s not very interesting.”
“I’m always interested in people’s lives. Everyone’s life is like a book or a movie or something.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“What do you remember about your dad, Mare?”
Mary takes a moment to find her voice, all too aware of her mother’s displeasure with the topic. “He was nice, I guess. He used to carry me around. He’d let me sit on his lap. I don’t know ... he was quiet.”
“Too quiet,” her mother replies. “He’d read these books that no one had ever heard of and listen to music that was out of date even before he was born. He refused to get tapes or CDs; he’d only use those old record players.”
“I think record players are cool,” Kristyn says.
“Me, too,” Mary adds.
“Well, sure, to you they’re antiques.”
“He played the banjo,” Mary says.
“Banjos are cool, too,” Kristyn replies.
When Mary’s mother replies, her voice takes on an edge of anger that surprises even Mary. “He was cool, all right. So cool that one day he took the two best things in his life and threw them away like they were garbage.” She throws her paper napkin down on her plate.
There is a moment of pained silence as Mary looks at her mother, then at Kristyn, and back at her mother again.
Kristyn downs the last few drops of wine in her glass. “All guys are idiots, she says.”
“Ha!” Mary’s mother laughs, her voice bearing a crackle of sadness. “You got that right.”
Mary stares down at her plate, silent.
S
Mary sits on the edge of her bed as Kristyn sorts through the assorted t-shirts in Mary’s small dresser. “Geez, your wardrobe’s like a movie from the olden days. It’s all black and gray and white.”
“Mom thinks I’m a Goth.”
“Hardly,” Kristyn replies. “You don’t even wear makeup. Or have your ears pierced. It’s like you got stuck in the fifth grade.” She returns to her rummaging.
She’s digging around. She’ll uncover you, find some shred you missed
Shut up shut up shut up
“And your t-shirts are all ten sizes too big for you. Hey, check this out.” She pulls out the shirt that bears the image of a cat. “Let me guess. Your mother bought this one, right?”
“Yes.”
“Ahh, I think it’s cute. Can I use it to sleep in?”
“I hate it,” Mary replies in a low voice. “You can keep it.”
“Are you serious? Your mom won’t care?”
“I don’t want it.”
“Here, we’ll trade. You can have mine.” Kristyn strips her shirt off, revealing a navy-blue bra that stands out in striking contrast to her pale, skinny torso. She tosses the rumpled yellow shirt onto the bed beside Mary, who picks it up with care. She can still feel Kristyn’s warmth in the fabric, can smell her scents.
“This is too nice for me,” Mary says. “I never wear stuff like this.”
“You could if you wanted to. Try it on. It’s a little too big in the boobs for me so it should fit you perfectly. I warn you, I’m probably rank, though. I haven’t had a shower since I got kicked out.” Mary holds the shirt in both hands, not sure what to say or do. “C’mon, try it on!”
Slowly, reluctantly, Mary pulls off her black t-shirt, exposing a white bra over curving breasts.
“Whoa, mama!” Kristyn says, embarrassing Mary, who smiles before she can catch herself. Mary pulls the yellow shirt over her head and down her torso. It feels strange, clinging in some areas, draping in others.
“Oh. My. God. It’s totally perfect. Look in the mirror.” Mary stands and examines her reflection in the mirror behind her door.
It’s too much; this is all too much
“It looks really great on you.”
“Thanks.” With fumbling fingers, Mary switches from the yellow shirt back to her original black.
Kristyn pulls off her jeans, then sits down beside Mary. Mary shifts slightly away, uncomfortable with her friend’s nearness and exposed skin.
Why couldn’t mom just let her sleep on the couch?
Kristyn yawns, stretching her shoulders and neck. She looks at Mary. “You really miss your Dad, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that why you’re so quiet?”
Mary shrugs.
“How old were you when he took off?”
“Five or six, I guess.”
“And your mom threw out everything of his? That’s cold, man.”
Tell her about the pictures
“I still have some pictures. I hid them.”
“Seriously? Where?”
“In a box, under the bed.”
“Can I see them?”
It’s all right. You can say okay
“Okay.”
Mary sets the latch in the door before getting down on her hands and knees. She reaches under the bed and pulls out the box. She opens it, digging through the layers, retrieving at last the small stack of precious images.
“Oh, my God, is this you? You were SO cute! And, wow, look at your mom. She was a fox with that long hair. I can’t believe you managed to keep this stuff hidden. You’re like a closet rebel.”
“No, I’m not,” Mary says, smiling.
“Shut up, are too. I could tell there was a hellcat inside you from the first time we met.”
S
Later, lying in the dark next to Kristyn, electric flashes of anxiety run through Mary’s body.
She’s going to find out
&nbs
p; Not if I can control them
When you’re awake maybe, but what about when you’re asleep? What then?
Kristyn props herself up on one elbow. “Is it really true that this is your first sleepover EVER?”
“Except for maybe when I was real little.”
“That is too weird.”
Too weird
“And your mom’s not SO bad,” Kristyn says. “She’s just kind of … I don’t know. Oblivious, I guess. At least she’s not yelling at you all the time like my parents. Idiots.”
“I guess.”
Mary stares at the cracks in the darkened plaster ceiling, terribly aware of her nervousness, embarrassed that her friend must be able to see it.
Kristyn reaches down and takes Mary’s hand. “This is pretty weird for you, huh?”
Mary nods in response.
Kristyn’s voice takes on an uncharacteristic hesitance as she asks, “Are you worried I’m going to try and kiss you or something?”
Mary can’t think clearly enough to decide if the thought of kissing a girl would upset her or not. She shakes her head no.
“I mean, I can kiss you if you want, but it’s not like I’m going to rape you or anything.”
Mary squeezes her eyes shut and inhales roughly.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”
Mary’s voice strains as she struggles against tears. “It’s not you.”
“Well, I can leave if you want. I can always find a different place to crash.”
PLEASE STAY PLEASE GO AWAY PLEASE
“Do you want me to go?”
Mary lets go of Kristyn’s hand and rubs her eyes, taking a moment to regain her composure. She looks at her friend and says, “Stay.”
“Cool.” Kristyn leans forward, kisses Mary’s cheek, and then flops down on her own side of the bed. “I can’t believe my parents kicked me out. Now I’m going to have to apologize, which I hate doing. God, I’m so stupid, letting my parents bug me so much. Do you ever feel like …? Forget it ...” She goes silent and Mary reaches over to touch her arm. Kristyn turns toward her. “I mean, do you ever feel like everyone else is totally normal and you’re totally fucked up?”
Yes
Kristyn stares intently into Mary’s dark eyes. “Everyone’s messed up a little, but I’m, like, SERIOUS messed up.”
M in the Abstract Page 10