Jack of Hearts
08-17-2011, 02:16 AM
ZOE
I've moved everything out of my room. I'm sitting in lotus position surrounded by several empty glasses. Sometimes I run my fingers along their edges, freeing an oscillating pitch.
I imagine, even though there's no ocean anywhere near here, the flat muted sound of ship's horn. It grows in intensity across great increments of time. It's almost like a soundtrack. Daylight is coming in through the blinds. It spills upon the carpet like a stain. When it hits some of the glasses they rainbow.
Then we were all sitting in silence. My father has stopped me in the kitchen. I could feel my feet going stiff against the tile.
"Goddammit Zoe!"and he's begining to work himself into a yell. When he yells I can see the fillings in his molars. When he yells he closes the distance between our faces and putrid saliva sprays me- he does this on purpose. I didn't understand. Only when he snatches the glass from my hand and throws it against the kitchen floor (it's tile, always tile, tile that he laid by hand)... only when I see that glass explode, after that moment when it looks like water splashing upwards, do I understand that he's sick of having to fuc-king tell me that dishes do not belong in bedrooms. It takes me a moment to put this together. It took me a moment to put that together.
The next part comes easy. First a sharp increase in pitch, a ringing, in my right ear and then quickly the heat comes into my cheek. There was the feeling that a sneeze got caught in my nose. The stinging comes last but it builds up most intensely. Beyond the kitchen, in the dining room, I could see my mother staring down at the empty table. She disappears as I go tumbling to the tile- his tile.
My mother catches me in the hallway one night. It's very dark.
"Zoe, honey, what are you doing?" she says while glancing over her shoulder at the doorway to the master bedroom.
I don't answer her. I watch the outline of her eyes as they try to make sense of what I'm carrying in my hand.
"Zoe!" she says in harsh whisper,"What are you doing! What if your father sees you?"
And she reaches out to snatch the glass from my hand, to hide it. After she does this, she's silent a moment. "It's empty..." and her hand feels into it,"... completely dry."
We stand still for a long time, staring at each other as best we can. Then my mother extends the glass outward to me, clutches my hand against it, and turns around. In half a breath, she's beyond the shadows and a door click.
I've moved everything out of my room. I'm sitting in lotus position surrounded by several empty glasses. Sometimes I run my fingers along their edges, freeing an oscillating pitch.
I imagine, even though there's no ocean anywhere near here, the flat muted sound of ship's horn. It grows in intensity across great increments of time. It's almost like a soundtrack. Daylight is coming in through the blinds. It spills upon the carpet like a stain. When it hits some of the glasses they rainbow.
Then we were all sitting in silence. My father has stopped me in the kitchen. I could feel my feet going stiff against the tile.
"Goddammit Zoe!"and he's begining to work himself into a yell. When he yells I can see the fillings in his molars. When he yells he closes the distance between our faces and putrid saliva sprays me- he does this on purpose. I didn't understand. Only when he snatches the glass from my hand and throws it against the kitchen floor (it's tile, always tile, tile that he laid by hand)... only when I see that glass explode, after that moment when it looks like water splashing upwards, do I understand that he's sick of having to fuc-king tell me that dishes do not belong in bedrooms. It takes me a moment to put this together. It took me a moment to put that together.
The next part comes easy. First a sharp increase in pitch, a ringing, in my right ear and then quickly the heat comes into my cheek. There was the feeling that a sneeze got caught in my nose. The stinging comes last but it builds up most intensely. Beyond the kitchen, in the dining room, I could see my mother staring down at the empty table. She disappears as I go tumbling to the tile- his tile.
My mother catches me in the hallway one night. It's very dark.
"Zoe, honey, what are you doing?" she says while glancing over her shoulder at the doorway to the master bedroom.
I don't answer her. I watch the outline of her eyes as they try to make sense of what I'm carrying in my hand.
"Zoe!" she says in harsh whisper,"What are you doing! What if your father sees you?"
And she reaches out to snatch the glass from my hand, to hide it. After she does this, she's silent a moment. "It's empty..." and her hand feels into it,"... completely dry."
We stand still for a long time, staring at each other as best we can. Then my mother extends the glass outward to me, clutches my hand against it, and turns around. In half a breath, she's beyond the shadows and a door click.