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Afterglow_a dog memoir

Page 15

by Eileen Myles


  21. Which is Cootehill, Cavin.

  22. Annaghmakerrig. The Tyrone Guthrie Center.

  23. Tripled, quadrupled, foam. But we’ll stick with the double.

  24. Amy Hempel has done it many times. You do it too, writer, do not be shy.

  25. Because it is liturgy.

  The Walk

  What date is it.

  I don’t know.

  Well, guess.

  August 17, 2008.

  You’re sure about the 2008 part.

  Yes because …

  It is. You’re right.

  The two kicked up dust as they walked on the path between pine trees. Occasionally the trees broke and they saw clear marsh vistas, they saw on and on to the sea. In front of them, way in front were dunes. It was hot.

  I want to lie down.

  That’s not what you actually said.

  I think they’re with us.

  The man was taller than the woman. He smiled at her.

  Do you.

  Yes, you don’t feel them.

  Man huffs but without ill will.

  I don’t know what I feel.

  Well this is a séance.

  That’s nice. He laughs. A fire-road séance.

  Do you think it’s gross that I’m recording this.

  You’re an artist. You have to do it.

  I could turn it off.

  Maybe it would feel better if I turned it off.

  I’m sure it’s a mess.

  Nothing wrong with that. People are always happy to give me their messes.

  This is my mess.

  He laughs. Thank you for inviting me into your mess.

  I’m honored.

  Really.

  Seriously.

  I hate these people with their actual dogs.

  I hate their dogs.

  Do you.

  Well look at them.

  Yeah those are terrible people.

  People from Boston.

  They look totally Boston.

  How can you tell.

  You can’t.

  I can. I mean they might be Duxbury.

  Right. Duxbury. Man huffs again.

  My family ruined my life going to Duxbury.

  Miles Standish monument.

  I don’t think we ever went up.

  Oh we did.

  It was horrible. I think I have vertigo because of that fucking …

  Back to the séance.

  I’m doing whatever you need. I love you. I’m here because this is important to you.

  She feels embarrassed. Maybe it’s crazy.

  Maybe it is. She likes his attitude.

  What is his attitude.

  There’s Mark.

  Really.

  Yeah let me talk to Mark for a minute. He grins at her then goes.

  She looks into the pines. She squeezes her bag. The box is there. She thinks of them joking about leaving Jimmy on the LIRR. A can of Jim. No matter how much you loved someone their ashes or just their dead body is this joke.

  Ready.

  Yeah what else am I going to do. She smiles at him.

  Now they can see the lighthouse and the dunes. The sky is just flat blue and it’s kind of buggy. Not as buggy as back there.

  They reach a little bridge with running water and a tiny beach below.

  Oh now I see what that’s for.

  Yeah I need some rocks.

  The man starts picking up rocks.

  Is this right.

  It’s a little large.

  How large did she like.

  She liked like this.

  Unh. Okay. That’s actually a hard size.

  Carla invented this game.

  Really.

  Yeah she loved Rosie.

  Until Hoover came along.

  I wonder if Hoover’s still around.

  I don’t feel it.

  A whole dog generation gone.

  Now why did Hoover hate Lucky.

  Hoover didn’t hate Lucky.

  Are you kidding me.

  Rosie hated Lucky because Lucky liked Hoover.

  Rosie hated Hoover but Hoover was hers.

  Hoover was a girl. I always forget that.

  Did I say Hoover was a girl.

  No but I was just thinking about it.

  Yeah. I can’t accept it. He was such a him.

  Maybe it’s the name.

  No it was the attitude.

  And Carla’s straightness. She would have a male dog.

  A really crazy barky male dog.

  I loved Hoover.

  Did you. I did.

  Splash. Do it. It feels great.

  This is her place. He gleams at her.

  She throws two but it doesn’t feel right. Will it feel right.

  How long did you have to do this.

  Until she got swimming. Until she got that light in her eyes.

  It was green.

  What was. The light.

  It was just … heaven. And Carla gave it to Rosie.

  She invented swimming. Splash.

  She invented swimming.

  Splash. In Rosie’s life. This game.

  Did Lucky like it here.

  I guess so. I feel like I can’t remember what Lucky liked.

  Seriously.

  Trauma.

  God. That was the worst dog death of all time.

  I can’t even speak about it.

  You wouldn’t get another dog.

  There’s Chester.

  Oh yeah. Chester.

  Chester’s a good boy.

  Laughs. It’s like sex talk.

  Splash. Splash. Splash.

  Is that enough.

  I don’t think so. I don’t think she’s entirely …

  Really.

  No she was difficult. I would have to go down there … Let’s go down.

  You’re right. Okay. Splash.

  That was fucked.

  I hope someone does this for me.

  I’ll do it for you.

  She snorts.

  Is this what you want.

  Whoops. I break my skull on the rock … burying my dog.

  Water burial.

  Yeah a twofer!

  Maybe it’s ready.

  She looks at him. Yeah I guess so. She looks at the sky which is paler.

  She thinks about tonight. She clicks with her spit.

  Okay baby. Rosie girl. She takes the box out of her back pack.

  You got the whole thing.

  Yeah I got her coffin.

  Bye baby girl. The powder shifts into the green water. She dips down with her hand to move it around. It just kind of sits on a rock. That’s not what she means.

  C’mon swim baby.

  It’s just us.

  She dumps more and more of the powder in the water. There aren’t any clumps. Maybe this isn’t even her. Bullshit.

  Right? What bullshit.

  No it’s nice.

  They stand there for a moment.

  Is that all. Yeah. She tips the box and a tiny trickle falls into the water and swirls for a second and lands on a rock. She swishes it with her hand.

  Bye Rosie. And the foghorn blows.

  They look at each other and laugh.

  They snort.

  Our dogs.

  Our dogs.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank the following people, places & supportive institutions: the MacDowell Colony, Kim Gordon, the Radar retreat, the Lannan Foundation, Fanny Howe, Emily DeDakis and Peter Emerson, Lewis Freedman, Leopoldine Core, Nate Lippens, Robert Marshall, UC San Diego, San Diego Women’s Center, UC San Diego Rainbow graduation, Erica Kaufman, Daniel Krakauer, Glenstall Abbey, Kathleen Gaul and Ali Stewart, Michael Carroll, Virginia Center for the Arts, John Ash, Maggie Paley, Katie O’Looney, Deidre Power, Glenstal Abbey, Thurston Moore and Eva Prinz, Annamaghkerrig (the Tyrone Guthrie Center), Paige Gratland, Anna Joy Springer, Ali Liebegott, Jennifer Firestone, the Guggenheim Foundation, Dawn Allen, Jor/dana Rosenbe
rg, Coronado, Liz Kotz, Berkeley Eco-Poetics conference, Village Zendo, Emma Smith, Dia & the Hispanic Society, Tristan Wand, Joan Larkin, Mary McElroy and the Markeys, and Joan Riordan Scanlan, Mary Riordan Noonan, Arlene Quinlan and Eileen Lynch. Always Cathy de la Cruz, and Emma Smith, my assistant for her immense talents and huge thanks to Timothy Greenfield-Sanders and his studio for finding this image of me & Rosie and generously allowing it to be on my cover. To Emilie Stewart for her unswerving faith in this book. And finally deepest thanks to my great sweet cool & inspired editor Zachary Pace and to the most thoughtful and awake person I know, my agent PJ Mark.

  Parts of this book previously appeared in the following journals and anthologies: Fear of Language, Harvard Design Magazine, Mandorla, Aufgabe, The Empty Page/fiction inspired by Sonic Youth, Circus Book, Apology, muff magazine, and The New Censorship.

 

 

 


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