“What was burning?”
“What was burning?”
” . . . Since I think of you as my partner—my love, my spouse, my life—will you marry me?”
“—I just fainted.”
“Here’s the way I feel,” said Annie.
“If he keys my car, I’ll have to suck it up. If he slashes my tires, I’ll report it to the police, even if it’s the police that did it.
“If he poisons my dog, I’ll have to…
“Well, shit,” sighed Andrew.
“That’s it,” said JR from the back seat. “Black man in a nice car, they harass you.”
. . . In her fatigue Annie observed that the cops had been transformed into theater artists, in costume, and this event a performance piece, lit by three red strobe lights, in which you took every single thing out of the car, and then out…
“Piss in your drink?”
In two steps Andrew stood over Bryan and poured the Gatorade over the boy’s head.
“Goddammit, Bryan,” I told you not to be an asshole!”
Photo courtesy of dailyrepublic.com
“I am pleased, and proud, and honored to have won this election!” Kathleen shouted to the fifty people packed into the one-room temporary Democratic HQ in Schuyler.
“The vote is close! What does that mean, everybody?”
“Your! Vote! Matters!” they shouted back to her.
“No groceries tonight,” Annie told Andrew on the phone later Friday afternoon. “I’ll pick you up for a meeting of Kathleen’s kitchen cabinet. She’s terrified.”
“Are you the devil?” Kathleen asked Andrew.
“No need for the devil,” he said. “It was there. There for the taking.”
Andrew chose a Snickers bar and put the wrapper in the cart. “They’re so fucking cheerful,” he whispered. “When do people have sex?”
“But they have all these children.”
“—I don’t know, Andrew. You’re a reporter. Ask them.”
“I’m not a reporter. I move apples. What…
In the background, “Motherland” by Natalie Merchant is playing.
Photo from buzzerg.
Annie realizes she is Andrew’s moll. And doesn’t mind.
He liked to see her profile out of the corner of his eye, totally focused on the driving, breathing bits and pieces of junk rock n’ roll (no Beatles—they shared a decade of fatigue with the Fab Four) that she knew from the first chord.…
If the days were a calm, unruffled sea, the nights were choppier, with an invisible breeze creating restless waves in the dark.
“What’s that?” asked Annie
“It’s a laptop,” said Andrew. “Computer. MacBook. New this year.” [The year is 1994.]
“What does it do?”
“It helps me think.”
“Were you talking to someone?” Annie asked.
“A guy,” said Andrew. “Had the wrong house.”
“What did he look like?”
“Like a guy who was in the wrong place.”
“This is a very sexy house, Annie.”
“You made a drive you hated and risked melanoma.”
“One week out of the year. It seemed like something I could give him.”
. . . “Do you remember that scene in Jules and Jim?” Annie said.
“. . . The three of them are setting out,” said Andrew, “and she burns some papers . . . letters?”
“You remember it! What did you think? I was horrified.”
. . . He was a reporter again . . . He had a pretty girlfriend, they went dancing on Saturday nights, and there were stories all over the place.
. . . “I was thinking about moving up there.”
“To the COUNTRY?” Caroline, who never raised her voice, had elevated her voice.
“It’s not always the country,” said Andrew. “They have this sort of Needle Park at one end of Schuyler.”
“Wonderful. Just what you need.”
Being self-reliant does not mean being empowered. Kathleen said that . . .
“You know men are dorks,” he said.
“Yes,” she said.
Read more at the link . . .
“While this week at the sea shines in the distance for both of us like . . . the Taj Mahal, she is also . . . worried about it, uncomfortable with it. She doesn’t quite know what might happen there. And so she, thinking…