He-Art.
Right. This. Moment.
Janice bit down on her tongue. There was blood all around. Bloody smile is what she gives me. I stare at the glow of awareness as it pools under her cheeks, fingers in her teeth.
“Jashkin, handle me that towel, over by the radiator.”
“The one with navy stripes?”
“Yeah, and the shailboats.”
“Next to the coral soap dish?”
“No, next to the shmiling flipper dolphine. Near the window.”
In the mirror, I watch myself handle Janice the towel, as she smothers her mouth in terry cloth. I stand there, agape at myself. Flowers growing from the elderdead wafting in my nostrils. Janice was not a clean person.
“Here. Rinse thish out and handle me back.”
Her blood makes sketch blotches in the sink. There is a kitten with a ball of yarn. I see a mountain goat. Two girls kissing. My fingers are cold, and lifeless when I handle Janice back the damp towel.
“Shabout time.”
“There’s a lot of blood. You’re losing enough to satisfy several anemics. Do you think.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I’ma fit ash a fiddle and ready ash a redcoat. Shall we?”
I follow the back of Janice’s hairpiece through the door and over a pink plush rug. We leave the towel dripping fresh dregs in competition between the sink and tile. I remember to snag off the bathroom lights.
She is angry I am still wearing my shoes. I know because she sniffs.
“(Sniff) Jashkin?”
“Yes.”
“What is that shtrange shmell?” – “Like earth that hash been trampled and shtuck to – (sniff) – wubber?”
“What should I know?”
“Very well. Here. Go and find shome meat in the freesher.”
Janice has ceased to flood. She contains herself at the table. There are loud dits of blood I trace with my eyes back into the bathroom. I wish that I knew Morse code. The dashes and dots might be vital in understanding Janice. The universe operates along subliminal guidelines. I should pay closer attention.
It looks like ketchup on a hotdog bun. The tiles are yellow in the kitchenette. I think of them as corn fritters, even browned at the square edges. I wipe at one with my shoe. The stain is hopeless. I trail blood to the icebox. I am the future of advertising media. The squirrel or rabbit that leaves behind imprints of Nike swirls in the snow.
“Jashkin – Hurry up.”
I leave the thought crumpled in a ball. I face the freezer to find some steak. Luckily, there’s a roast. I don’t like roast.
“Here.”
“Thansht.”
“Janice?”
“Yesh?”
“I’m sorry.”
“(Sniff)”
“Janice?”
“Hmm. – (sniff)”
“Are you alright?”
“(Sniff) – For now.”
It always ends this way. Her and me in the limelight of the other. The phosphorescent kitchen lights casting shadows under her cabinets, table, and chairs-all lavender and reeking of Pad Thai fish dishes.
6 hours. Two minutes. 32 seconds. Prior.
“Ohhh. James…”
“Jenny – O, Jenny!”
Their bodies are salty. The sweat drips releasing steam clouds above the radiator. The sheets are ruined. I don’t know what she was thinking when she bought white sheets. Those stains will never bleach white. I can feel a drip slip past my right eyebrow. I can smell the taste in my mouth. I had eggs and coffee this morning, while waiting for –
“Mmmnn…ahh. Ohh. - James.”
“James?”
“James.”
I watch from the linen closet. Towels and washcloth prints are static imprints against my neck, back and buttocks. In the mirror, James is nothing but oblong imprints against the shower door. He is limp in her arms. Janice pushes at him, then pushes past him, and her fingers appear at the panel, pulling it aside.
“Finally. That was taking too long.”
At the strike of her match, I emerge from the linen closet. There are several that punctuate my entrance in stripes and floral prints, resting at my feet unfolded. I can feel the static currents play along my skin. Janice is all slimy with soapsuds, outlined by the mirror light. She takes deep drags from her cigarette, arms akimbo, one foot on the toilet, the other solidly soaking into the short carpet.
There are swamps between us. I can see the smoke linger. I don’t want to linger. Janice smiles at me with her cigarette on her lip. There, above the gap of her two front teeth is the pronunciation of our history. She knows it draws my eyes. I look to the James man. I quell the vomit and then return the favor. The cracks in my cheeks successful in the mockery of this pleasure, as I offer up my best brim smile.
“Next time. You need to ask Joey for a larger dose.”
“It worked.”
“But too late. You can lurch like a creepy crawly in the closet to your heart’s implosion but I have to be the bait. I have to let them touch me. Let them inside of me and smile when they say they love me. Ugh. And how they touch me - “
“You know we can’t switch Janice. I love you.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll ask Joey for a stronger dose.”
Janice smeared the butt into the dead man’s back. I hear the hiss as the ash forms a third eye between his shoulder blades.
“Here. Let’s move it before it begins to smell.”
We are the opposite. Her and I.
3 years. 7 hours. 14 minutes. Prior.
“Wait.”
My throat was stuck to itself. I had eaten flypaper at lunch. Must have. She was a magnet.
“Yes.”
The sun groped everywhere for some way to consume her. I know I wanted her, must have felt something deep. She must know who I am. She noticed my smile. Must have. Her shoulders pivot, her entire body awake at the sound of my voice.
“My name’s Jackson.”
“No last name?”
“Why would I need a last name. Isn’t one name more than enough for any one sap to live up to?”
“Fine. Have it your way. So’s when you die, you won’t swell up and ruin that beautiful face of yours. I hate the name Jackson.”
“Hate’s a strong emotion.”
“I’ll call you Jashkin instead, free of all that karmic presidential connotation.”
“And you are?”
“I like Janice.”
“Janice?”
“Yes?”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Waiting on a ride?”
“Until when?”
“Until it arrives.”
“If you would be willing to wait, I could give you a ride. My car’s just in the back lot and I’ll be off in fifteen.”
I knew my movie theatre usher, complete with bellhop hat, uniform would appeal as sexy. I smelt like Twizzlers. I had spilt diet Coke on my trousers. Her name is Janice. I follow the curve of her jaw to the split of her neck then wonder whether she and I could be compatible. Wonder if we would spend our lives together, sitting on a porch as wrinkled as sin. And I wouldn’t tell our grandchildren because we wouldn’t want them. Children mean sacrifice. I let my eyes melt around her outline, the red, neon, and gold molding spontaneous as pop culture, into her silhouette.
“What kind of car do you drive, Jashkin?”
“A Neon.”
“A Neon? What color?”
“Aquamarine. I got it used but it runs.”
“I’ll take you up on that. Got a light while I wait?”
“You shouldn’t smoke, it’s bad for you. You know.”
“Yes, I know. I don’t plan to stick around. Health insurance only gets you so far in this world.”
“Shame.”
“Hmm. Yes, what a shame. I don’t think God would approve.”
The corners of her mouth rise with my eyebrows. We both knew the other never could believe in God.
7 weeks. 12 days. 23 minutes. Prior.
“What do you use this shit for anyways?”
“Rats. I keep tripping on them and the bastards are immune to poison.”
Joey spit hard to the left side. His hair vibrates thinly against the tension. It darkens the tile caulking in the shape of a duckbilled man. I wait.
“That’ll do it. Man, those city rats sure do get bigger an’ bigger every year.”
I never could quite tell when he looked at me. There was a clever distance between us. I wonder if he could smell himself with that crooked nose. I could hear abandoned animals howling for attention in the foreground. We hid in the back next to the shit shovels and hoses.
“Yeah, tell me about it. What do I owe you?”
His eyes roll in their sockets like dice in a cup. Maybe, this time, I might get lucky.
“I’ll settle for two nights –”
Maybe, this time, I am lucky.
“And a hand job. If you got a minute now? Judy’s been a bitch and I’m all bent out with Margarine again.”
“Sure. But if you aren’t good in five minutes, you’re on your own. I’ve got some place to be.”
In five minutes. Joey’s content and panting with satisfaction. Not, unlike a dog. I pull the antibacterial from my purse. I always bring it whenever I come to see Joey. I can’t trust him. He has dirty fingernails, crust in the corners at his mouth. His penis always feels so flaccid. Every. Single. Time. It’s a relief when he finally gets off.
“Hey Jackson-”
“Yeah?”
“Before careful with that dose, it’ll knock out a horse. Don’t go putting it in your coffee thinking it’s a creamer. I’d hate to see that pretty face of yours eaten off by rats.”
“Not to worry, Joey. I’m always careful.”
Joey watches me apply the sanitizer. I turn my back to him and leave out the side door into the alley. The sun shines so well my car reminds me of a matchbox car, complete with chrome detail. Janice took it to the wash yesterday noon. She got the sea breeze scent. I smile at the wheel, smelling her in, tasting her scent.
One Year. 21 Hours. 37 Seconds. Prior.
The television is on. I absently spin my fingers in the curls of Janice’s hair. Today she is defeated. We are watching old reruns of something as a few half hours deflate around our island of knotted couch cushions. “To Catch a Predator” breaks the train off the tracks as we stare, enrapt.
11 Months. 17 Minutes. 15 Seconds. Prior.
lovergirljanet12: omg! spongebob is soooooo dumb
edwardcullensismyhero: dude i kno! do u like HSM?
lovergirljanet12: hells yea dude! im soooooo jealous of vanessa hudgens
edwardcullensismyhero: she is super beautiful but she isnt as hott as u
lovergirljanet12: really? thats sooooo sweet! <3 if u were here I would totally hug u 4 that
edwarcullensismyhero: well would you like to meet?
The Next Week Following Right This Moment.
“Janice, my love, I see one right over there.”
We are three states over and I have just spotted our last mailbox. Finally dropping the last package addressed to “Kill A Predator”, we pull over and I pop it in. The package is white with a light pink tint. We used meat wrapping paper but the blood drips through. This is how we make our mark on civilization, one package at a time, mailbox by mailbox, body part by body part sealed inside. It is our statement of cultural recommitment to justice and a dropbox artform memento of our love for each other.
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