The Eye of the Storm

On rare Saturdays
when the kids oversleep
you'll startle me awake
by sliding your hand under my nightshirt
and resting it on my formidable gut
where the long dormant muscles will clumsily try
to stand at attention for your superior fingers
but before they can get out of their cots
or even attempt to form a proper row
you will slap them lightly
"at ease"
putting them down humanely
like befuddled leaky dogs

Next you'll trace spirals
out from my inny
to the rings of my ribs
mapping the wild tantrums of my acid reflux
and whispering in your indian oracle voice
nearly inside my ear,
"De eye of de storm."
I'll smile then,
eyes still closed,
puffing out my back
like a morning cat
and pushing my ear ever closer
to that apocalyptic breath of yours
like a child who loves to be tickled.

Then I'll reach my hand back
and run it over your pilgrim night gown
to find the womb we've worn out
and press the back of two sausage fingers
flat into your tummy crease.
With the adjacent fingers I'll wrap your belly around them
and declare in my french chef's voice
"Porcs dans une couverture."

And as the kids begin to herd around upstairs
waking the furniture,
one of us will kiss the other
right between the shoulder blades
and push these words deep into the last taught skin:
"Remember our waistlines?"

Maybe There Is a Creek

Maybe there is a creek in the mountains of northern Vermont that you have been trying to get back to for most of your life. Maybe you were boldly splashing around in it with your thirteen-year-old feet when a silent nest of hornets decided to teach you a lesson. Maybe you spun like a top, twisting your spaghetti arms out and up while your voice rose like a kettle. Maybe you slipped on the "broccoli rocks" that your father always warned you about, belly-flopping down onto wet worn flint that pierced your eggshell chest and knocked the July wind up and out of you, forcing a reverence that only violence could elicit from a boy with three sisters.

Maybe you heaved in water and heaved out nothing, filling and filling, almost giving up there, your chest broken, your back stung, your eyes wide and dancing like the water striders you could never catch. Maybe you envisioned the summer's end; an 8th grade gateway opening up to all the horrible worldly complications awaiting you: girls, money, alcohol, cancer, the internet. Maybe you pictured yourself sinking into the mossy bed and returning as pine years from now, looming over the creek, taller than your father.

Maybe you will go back there because you want to see what progress has done to that place that tried to kill you. Or maybe you hope to be stung again, having never since felt so alive.

Over Breakfast

I suppose I had no business saying those things to Julie.

She was just doing her breakfast thing, same as any other day

reading the back of my paper aloud over eggs, tomatoes, and sausage

knowin' full well I wasn't halfway through Landers and dead set on gettin into Marmaduke before Daryl show'd up

But as ma says, 

Eggs ain't eggs without somethin gettin broke

and that front page article on the Carter Parking Garage Killer had worn Julie paper thin.

She puffed out a tearful monologue

punctuated by toast shrapnel, 

I just don't… I don't… I can't understand how a person can just… KILL nine people… for no REASON. It's, it's… it's SENSELESS. You just NEVER know wha---

Well, I understand how a person could do that, I shot back from behind my paper. 

Wasn't more than four seconds of silence before I knew she'd never forgive it

I shoulda tipped the paper but I just couldn't look at that face she was surely makin

lookin like a rich walrus on tax day

Damnit, playin out these tired routines was enough to turn a man sterile

What I mean is… I can see---

Her chair bit into the floor as she clinked our dishes into a pile.

I can't believe you can just sit there… JUSTIFYIN… the killin of innocent folks, Wayne, she sputtered downward into the sink

like I was lookin up from the gunk.

I didn't say it was right, Julie Rae, I said I can understand it.

Well, I just don't know what to think about that. I suppose you think that's typical behavior, do you?

It was an awkward way to stick it to me, but I knew what she was gettin at

(when you've earned this much interest on a relationship, 

ain't no conversation you're gonna have that isn't colored by something you said while under some sort of influence - be it love or whiskey)

that, right there, was her thinkin back on that time we was at Billy and Michelle's 

and I was tellin them about how I'd found that sheep's skeleton up in the canyon when I was 12

kept it in a sack under my bed for months

'til ma'd found it and made me throw out the whole damned sack cause of the ticks

and I was really gettin into that story cause Billy was laughing and callin me Wayne Dahmer

and suddenly Julie was tearing towards the bathroom ballin her eyes out and wailin bout 

THAT AIN'T NORMAL WAYNE. AIN'T NO KIND OF WAY FOR A KID TO BEHAVE

Michelle chased her in there, no doubt stokin the fire like a woman does when she's tryin to put one out

THAS TYPICAL BEHAVIOR FOR ANY BOY SCOUT, JULIE RAE, I hollered after her, 

rollin my eyes at Billy 

and Billy rollin em right back 

Come the next mornin she was all kinds of sorry

made a big hash even though her head was poundin

but after that she watched me different

Like before I was a sheepdog

now I was a malamute.

What I'm sayin' is I can see how a man can end up in that place... 

where something senseless... makes sense. 

Ain't you never stared at somethin till it blurred? 

Er said a word so many times you stopped believin it was a real word? 

She didn't answer, but I knew she had

Ain't you never done that same thing with livin? Where you… 

where you and the world stop speaking the same language for a little while?
Like everything you done up to this point don't bring you any closer to understanding the next point yer supposed to shoot fer?

Like you stop believin in all that buddhist shit 

momentarily… momentarily, Julie

and you realize that maybe you ain't One with anything, 

ain't attached or related to nothin: 

not yer daddy, yer momma, yer fellow man

not the one you love

not the law

not even the ground.

You just a bunch of cells that got lost out there

and everything else is a bad dream.

Ain't you never been so lonely that you stopped believin the word "lonely" even exists…

cause ain't no one coulda understood it rightly before you?

She was frozen at the sink, 

hands on my dirty plate, 

water spillin over the basin

like I had my .38 to her head

Daryl blasted his stupid horn in the driveway in his stupid regular way

I walked over and turned off the water,

tried to kiss her forehead like usual

but now there was no usual

she'd be askin me to move on soon, I s'pose.

Got me wondering if maybe that's just a place the female mind can't ever go

Like maybe a man's heart has a drawer in it that women just don't have

and shouldn't never open. 

The winter of what's comin

Those years I was always fightin somethin

Come home bloody-nosed and chip-toothed

like a runt who can't stop runnin his mouth

Ellie wanted nothin to do with me most nights

Victorious or not, blood was blood, she said 

ain't no difference whose it is

I still gotta get the carpets cleaned.

She watched me piss away most my paycheck

always hollerin bout 

your body is made for more than transportin whiskey from Mick's to my toilet!

but I wasn't in no mood to pay her any mind

I had some chip on my shoulder, those days

Our divorce wasn't clean like smart folks do

we had all kinds of circling back, double checking, 

fallin in, fallin out

it was a hard knot to untie

she let me bloody that first boy she brought around

she knew he had it comin since he works for Randy

and I caught him soakin up my shade when she thought I was headin to Galveston

Sure, she made a nice little performance piece out of the whole thing

but women is women 

and they love to be fought for

So she took me back in the house while he hobbled off

cleaned me up good and let me make love to her standing up, in the parlor

Things didn't do so good with that second boy;

he worked at the bank and maybe he wasn't much tryin to make her the way I first thought

but she had on her Sunday dress on a damned Tuesday

she fixes him a lemonade and serves him right out there on my bench

I come tearin through the yard like a fist river

laid that boy out flat before I seen the papers he'd set out on the picnic table

Well that was that

she boxed my ear with a rake handle 

sent me off in the truck 

head ringing like a chinese fire drill

and I spent the night at the lake in the truck bed

cursing God and all his falling stars 

through a whole bottle a' Maker's

Prolly wouldn't'a heard from Ellie again 'cept Ant Bee took ill

Ellie rang me at Billy's and laid it out:

Wayne I want nothin to do with your sorry ass

but Ant Bee is dyin and I don't expect I could live with myself if I didn't give you a chance to see her

After all…

right there she got quiet and sniffly, breakin

the way women do on the phone

Ellie, you don't have ta ---- I tried

I will see you at the Wayberry's place at five tonight

and you will not be late.  And Wayne...

try not to look like shit.

We both had a sweet spot for Bee 

who'd taken us in when Ellie's folks'd run us off

and then given us our first truck

that old Chevy

with the football hanging from the rear view mirror

still there today, I reckon

I came round the Wayberry's at quarter to five

dressed in my office suit, with a bouquet of daisies 

If she was impressed, Ellie didn't show it, or take them flowers neither

Bee will like those, she said

and I knew it wasn't no use romancin her under such circumstances

She pointed at my guitar case:

Good idea, Wayne

those words were like sun to a eskimo 

and I held the door for her   

We shuffled into the bedroom and Ant Bee was propped up on forty or fifty pillows, 

all shapes, sizes, and colors, like some kind of arabian princess

We each hugged her and then took our places bedside

She would not let go of Ellie's hand 

Well dear, I'm so glad to have visitors, she beamed at Ellie

Yes, it's so good to see you, Bee, we answered

Are you friends of Roger's?

Ellie flinched. No Bee, it's Ellie, your niece.  And you remember Wayne

Oh yes, yes, it's so good to see you both, dears, she patted Ellie's hand.

She rolled her head to me: pleasure to meet you, Wayne. 

And then she pulled Ellie close and made her hand as if to whisper 

Is this handsome "Wayne" your boyfriend, dear?

No, Ant Bee, he's a friend that came to visit you!  You remember how you loved hearing him 

play guitar for you most nights at the old place?

Oh, 

Bee turned to me

Wayne, I LOVE the guitar.  Do you play well?

I do ok. Don't play much these days.

Oh, Wayne, you MUST play. I do love guitar!

I got the guitar out and strummed somethin senseless

she smiled and smiled

When I was just three words into a Guthrie tune, 

she grabbed Ellie's arm and asked

Is this handsome fellow your boyfriend, dear? 

No, Ant Bee.  No, he's a friend who came to visit you. 

Oh! You're so kind to visit me and play that guitar, dear.

It's nothin, Ant Bee, glad to give it a workout, s'been so long since I had it out.

Are you a friend of Roger's, then?

Ant Bee, that's Wayne. You remember, we used to stay with you when…

You gave me that '88 Chevy, remember, Bee? We used to live---

Oh dear.  I gave you a car? I must be awfully fond of you, dear, She laughed. 

Are you getting much use of it?

I'm afraid that was a while back, ma'am. I swapped it in a few years ago.

Oh my. Well, that sounds nice, then. I hope you got yourself a nice replacement.

Then, 

Are you her boyfriend? She asked me, 

poking the air between Ellie and her

Ellie cut in: Ant Bee! He's just a friend came here to visit you and see how you're doin. You know Wayne! We came to see if you got everything you need.  Are you in much pain?

Oh no, dear. I'm fine. They have such wonderful folks here bringing me my things. My son should be by soon to take me home. 

I put the guitar down, tried to put my arm on Ellie's leg, but she stood up and shooed me

Ant Bee, we buried Richard two years ago.  You know that! I'm going to go to the kitchen for a drink, would you like something? 

Oh no, we buried Richard? That isn't so, is it?

Ellie left the room and Bee put her hand on my arm, 

Now who was that lovely girl? She reminds me of my Rebecca. 

That's Ellie, Bee. She's your niece, remember?

My niece? That's Rebecca, is it? She's so big now!

Ma'am, Rebecca is your sister, and that girl there is Rebecca's daughter, Ellie, your niece.

Oh dear, you've got me so confused, young man, 

she was barely laughing,

Can you tell me, is this Ellie your… have you been together long?

Well, we---

Ellie returned with a tall cup of water, 

Nothin for me, thanks dear! I shot her a look

Ellie dear, I was just asking your… your...

Wayne, ma'am

I was just asking Wayne when he… now he, Wayne, the two of you will get married I hope. Have you been together long?

Ellie wouldn't let the woman have it, even so close to the end:

Ant Bee, Wayne is a friend of yours come to visit and play guitar for you. Now don't be makin assumptions bout the two of us, we ain't together anymore… 

Hell, if she weren't so embarrassed by it all, she might'a found some pleasure in reminding me of where we stood, every forty seconds or so.

Well, he's quite a handsome one

she sang in a whisper

You ought give it a try with… what was your name, dear?

We left soon after

didn't see much point in stayin long when we just kept startin over every few minutes, and the Ant Bee we knew was long gone.

And maybe that trip to Bee's is what done pulled me out

cause after that I just didn't have the fight in me

not for Ellie, not for no one

ain't never stepped foot in Mick's since

I cut me a straight path with this Julie

On Thursday nights when she stays over

after I done her halfway to a crippled

I lay out across her spilling bosom,

and ask her questions about being a little girl

try to find the safest place in that head a' hers

and hunker down there

for the winter of what's comin

The last time I saw you

You were calm and native as a lawn ornament

hunkered down on the bottom step of my back patio

with your painty pants rolled up 

and your bare feet dipped in the unkept grass

as if grown there

I stepped out onto the slate in work socks
and washed myself in the evening air of July
and pulled my shoulders back into position
and watched you corkscrew that $6 wine bottle into the dirt
"to keep it chilled"
the way Dave taught you

The divorced girls next door had a fire going
and every few seconds it peaked over the fence at us
and cut the stillness between us with arhythmic popping
but there still wasn't enough space so

I waded along the limits of the backyard, admiring yesterday's clipping
and when I looked back you were gone
and I was holding your $6 wine bottle in one hand
and grabbing at sparks with the other