Thursday, June 19, 2008

All Golden

But they didn’t stand a chance and somehow it didn’t matter. To her or to him, nobody. They drove through the early morning dawn, that dirty green pick-up bounced along the dirt road in a never ending death rattle. Yeah, somehow it didn’t matter, but that couldn’t be right could it, she wondered?
I know, I know. I’m sorry, he said. I’ll try harder next time.
She didn’t need to look at him as he spoke to know that he had a sad puppy dog look on his face, she knew, she knew. She looked out into fields, she wanted to be a corn stalk, lost among the others, all golden inside.
He reached across the seat and made for his spit cup. That Big Gulp had paid itself off a hundred times over, this was the best spitter he’d ever had.
Look at this thing wouldja, it’s unbeatable, I’ve had it for like a month now. Damn! Christ, don’t look so sad he said.
I aint sad, just tired, she said.
Aww, c’mon, it’ll be good again, you’ll see. We’ll get home and we’ll turn on the tube and some animal show’ll be on and I’ll say damn, what do you think that platypus taste like and you’ll be all...
She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She could taste the beer coming up. This part made her sick. This is the part that she knew better, she knew better, but did nothing about. That tone of voice, those words, like so much hot mud being poured all in her. She’d let his stupid reasons numb her good until next time he betrayed her.
I can’t never do no good by you, you know that he said. I always seem to get things wrong, I can’t never do no right, he said.
She sure looked happy, you musta been doin something right. You had a big grin on that big fat farmer face of yours too. You made a fool of us. I hate you, asshole. I’m glad I lost that baby, he would be been just as dumb as me and an asshole like you. I lost him cuz a you, you know.
Damn, we both know that! What was I supposed to do. You know I can’t help myself,you know that doctor at the prison said I was compulsive or impulsive, some kind of sive.
Sieve is right!
Jasmine was just there, looking real good, and I just couldn’t help it, you know, I just had to reach up under that little dress she had on and she let me do it too. She didn’t get mad or nothin, she just started grindin on my hand, gettin all wet, it ain’t my fault she did it...
She puked all over the inside of the truck, the windshield coated in a dark muck. The smell of all that throw up made her throw up more. It happened faster than she knew what was happening. For a moment she wasn’t there.
Aw shit, goddamn it, what the fuck! He threw his spit cup at her, coating her face in a juicy, brown film.
She didn’t have time to react, the truck, the road, the pole all reacted for her. The crash was instant and loud. She flew, no sailed, no floated through the windshield, and again, for a moment, she wasn’t there. Somehow, she had a mouth full of gravel, and her hands were full of corn stalk. From somewhere far away, a child was moaning, it made her feel so sad.
Hey! Hey! You alright? What’d you do that for, why didn’t you have on your seat belt. Aw, what the hell. Your face is all tore up. Why’d you do that, why’d you puke like that. You’re a god damned drunk, just like your pa and your brothers. God damned woman, what is your problem. Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Wake up. You need help? Get up. Shit, I’m gonna go to the hospital and get the ambulance.
She heard his boots crunch in the gravel as he made his way toward the running motor she assumed belonged to the truck. She managed to turn her self belly up. Through the corn, the sky was pink and blue and the clouds wispy. She wiped her face as best she could and started laughing. It wasn’t really laughing though, more like grunting. She imagined that’s what early people must of sounded like before they could talk. She grunted more at that thought and wished she could be back there, way back there when the world was young.
The corn began leaning in, taking turns, rustling, speaking. Laughing, too. Were they laughing because they’d notice that he had puke on his favorite shirt, or because, like her, they’d notice that when he drove away, he wasn’t driving toward the hospital. They leaned in even more, covering her in sharp green leaves.

1 comment:

Charmi said...

Some good stuff, the death rattle, the corn, golden inside, the sharp green leaves...