Punks-In June

Minnie was 14. She liked wearing bright red lipstick and getting high.
She took a long drag off her cigarette.
Tommy watched her lips slightly slip a part; watched the puff of smoke slide between them.
"You still think it was all my fault," she looked at him. Longer than she wanted to allow herself.
Tommy fixed his eyes onto the ground.
Minnie could feel the hurt fly fierce into her eyes. She threw her cigarette on the ground.
Tommy watched her blue sneaker grind it into the gravel.
He watched her feet turn and begin walking away; shoes scratching.
Fuck, she never looks back, he thought.
"Minnie," he said, after her.
Tommy...
"Minnie," he said, again.
And she stopped walking.
Tommy had never seen Minnie cry before, so he went to her and he held her.

They were in Tommy's bedroom.
On the bed and near the open window, they passed the joint between each other, but not words.
The radio played.


I lose my head
I close my eyes
They won't touch me
'Cause I got somethin'
I been buildin' up inside
For so fuckin' long
They're out ta get me
They won't catch me
I'm fuckin' innocent
They won't break me


Tommy roached the joint, then put it inside his cigarette tin; tossed it onto his pillow. He put his hand on Minnie's bare knee.
"I want you to meet Lydia," he said, biting his lip.
"Who?" Minnie asked, as Tommy stood up.
He walked over to his closet doors.

A Minute in Seconds

"Do you want bubbles, Sissy?" Tommy asked.
She jumped twice, arms flapping in front of her and then she stopped. She looked up at him.
"YES!" she shrieked, then pulled at her clothes.
The cookie clumped on her face and mashed between her fingers made Sissy look ugly, Tommy thought.
Dirty and ugly.
"Shut-up, Sissy," he said to her, as he bent over the tub, pouring shampoo into the warm water. And Sissy jumped some more, behind him.

Sissy hated soap, so Tommy was very wet, as he sat down on the toilet lid, to wait while she played in the water, for awhile. The cuffs of his shirt were sopping and his wrists were itchy.
He thought about rocket ships. He stared at the ceiling.

Sissy was dressed for bed and they were standing in the bedroom, but now they could not find Lydia.
And now Sissy was crying; loudly.
Her fists were in a ball and her feet looked as though nailed to the floor.
She was screaming and red in the face.
Tommy ran out of the room and did not stop until he was in front of the coffee table, in the living room. His heart was racing.
Tommy looked at the ceiling, again. He screamed.
"FUCK!"
Then he took a deep breath. His heart slowed.
And when he looked down towards the floor, he saw Lydia's wool hair poking out from under the couch. He clentched the hair tight in his fist, when he picked her up.
But he did not throw the doll.
Sissy went right to sleep once Lydia was in her arms and the sheet covered her shoulders, the day too hot, the tears too many.
Tommy went to the bathroom to take off his shirt and to run himself a bath.

Giving Shit

Edward Julian Watson was beginning to wonder why he ever bothered to look into the mirror.
My cheeks are getting fat....GAWD, and he patted his hands against them.
They were definately getting fatter. He then shook his cheeks with his fingertips.
Oh, and definately wobblier.
Edward Julian Watson was wearing a white undershirt. And blue boxer shorts. And brown socks.

Edward Julian Watson was driving in his blue Datsun and it was 7:09 AM, his really cool digital watch had told him. He had glanced at it because he was sitting at a red light and really had nothing better to do.
This is also why he looked in the rearview mirror.
And noticed his cheeks again.

Edward Julian Watson went dining on his lunch break. To K-Mart.
Edward Julian Watson placed many white paper napkins on his lap, while he ordered the hot beef sandwich.
The peas that came on the white plate were just too green to eat.
Edward Julian Watson had drank too much coffee on this Tuesday morning.
And poor Edward Julian Watson always washes his hands after peeing.

Edward Julian Watson was at home and he was sitting in the dark. And dammit, he was a man, so he had his feet up on the coffee table.
Edward Julian Watson wanted to tell someone that he thought his cheeks were getting fatter.
But, we've already said Edward Julian Watson was a man.
He sighed, as he stood up, leaning over the arm of his couch to turn on the lamp.
And when the light came on, the first thing Edward Julian Watson saw, were the Yellow Pages. Since 1886.

Stones and Arrows

She opened the crumpled paper carefully.
It was more than just another oddity spring cleaning turned up, though it was found buried in the corner with a heap of credit card receipts and discarded napkins.
The letters were scrawled in a familiar hand. It was only the ink she didn’t recognize.
She slouched down into the kitchen-table chair that resided next to a clutter she called affectionately, “computer desk.” The kids were screaming about something in the backroom.

Sometimes sound has no meaning.

Bills were pushed aside. The computer bleeped to say that Tom had just signed in.
She laid the paper down in the small clearing in front of the keyboard. She didn’t like the strange silence of this new one as her fingers flew across its keys.
Her eyes lingered over the paper, then she got up to find her cup of coffee. Then she sat back down. Then she got up again as there was no lighter to spark her cigarette into a flame.
Before calling in the kids to find it, she looked at the words one more time.
Written as neat as could be managed, “First love shoots you with an arrow, then life throws stones at it. I understand.”
She let the kids be. She lit her smoke over the stove.

Purge

She scooped the Kraft Dinner out of the thin pot, onto the gold and white plates and then placed a naked hot dog, beside the noodles. Wanted to vomit from the smell that filled her nose.
"I want ketchup," Tommy said, from behind her.
"Me, too. Me, too," Sissy echoed.
No manners. But it did not matter.
"There is none,” Momma picked up the smelling plates; her eyes watching a ray of sunlight splashing the wall underneath the cupboards.
And Tommy said nothing in reply, but she could feel his eyes burning into the kitchen table; right through the metal.
She turned and two steps and dumped the plates; fast, onto the table, in front of the two children.
Then Momma left the room; headed towards the washroom. Could feel the bile, burning the back of her tongue. Her cold feet slapped to a stop in the middle of the living room.
She took two, deep breaths.
Relax...
Momma sat down on the couch. She busied herself, pushing back her cuticles, from scratched nails.
She heard the backdoor open; metal on wood.
"Daddy!" Sissy shrieked, just a second later; bubbled with laughter.
Momma looked down, at herself. She had been wearing the yellow dress for three days.
And today, she did not even care, as she stood up.
Running her hands to smooth her skirt, she stepped over to lean herself into the kitchen doorway. Arms crossed.
Chet needed to take those two children out for supper; even though she hated hotdogs.