Crank - 01 (3 page)

bare chest, with

a bare, baby face

to make the

angels sing.

Nothing

but ragged

cut-offs,

hugging a

tawny six pack,

and a smile.

No pin-up

pretty boy

could touch,

a smile that

zapped every cell.

He was definitely

not my type.

At Least I Had Something

to think about

besides my dad’s

less than palatial

apartment.

If he qualified

as royalty in this true

blue collar

kingdom,

I had zero desire

to see how the

working class

lived.

Dad Had to Go to Work

Work?

You’ve heard a work.

You couldn’t take

one day off?

You don’t know my boss.

Does he know

about me?

She knows you’re here.

Your daughter

comes to visit …

She does’nt know.

Know what?

That you’re my daughter.

Who am I, then?

A long lost relative.

He Worked in a Bowling Alley

Under the table,

so I don’t screw

up my disability.

Unsticking stuck

balls, fitting stinky

shoes, collecting

cash from the crop

du jour of the

great unwashed.

No one there’s

gonna tell. They

got their own secrets,

No worries about

bubblegum, athlete’s

foot, or the current

flu, passed bill to

bill, ball to ball,

shoe to shoe.

Like who’s making

out in the back room,

who’s striking out.

Geo unlocked

in a parking lot

where the color of

your jacket might

mean your life, wrong

night, wrong time.

It’s not the best

neighborhood, but

hey, come along.

I Opted Out

Long trip,

long day,

no thanks,

I’ll stay.

Okay.

Not Quite Silent

The empty boxes

Dad imagined

rooms.

Glurp … glurp … glurp

Hot drops into

deep kitchen

stainless.

Plunk.....plunk

Cool drips on

chipped bathroom

porcelain.

Chh-ka-chh

Sleepy branches

scratching bedroom

glass.

You crazy sonofabitch!

Neighbors through

thin plaster

walls.

The Screaming

Of Course, When I Was Little

I didn’t understand the

terminology of words like

infidelity.

Nor the implications

of my father’s sundry

addictions.

I only knew my wicked

mother took us far away,

kept us far apart.

Time passed, with little

word from Dad.

But, having experienced

Mom’s growing

frustration

at a stalled career and

family life’s daily

limitations

I put the blame squarely

on her. As for Dad,

I could have forgiven

him pretty much anything,

even his silence.

As long as I could forever

stay his little princess.

Okay, Over the Last Few Years

I may have gained a little perspective.

Mom struggled to raise two kids

on her own, at least until Scott

blundered into her life.

Jake was a late addition,

one the workout queen accepted

and loved despite killer stretch marks

and sure-to-sag-even-more boobs.

As for Dad, well, truth be told, his love

of drugs surpassed his love of family.

And when we were small, he just

happened to install cable TV,

giving him every opportunity

to experience the wild side of

bored, stay-at-home housewives,

eager for entertainment.

So it was, perhaps, ironic

that I discovered …

Dad Hadn’t Paid His Cable Bill

Three fuzzy channels

hissed and spit

      a rerun of
Friends,

            extra-inning baseball, and

    soap opera, en español.

I should have gone

straight to bed,

      counted cracks

            in the ceiling.

  Instead, I went outside.

Cigarette smoke,

toxic curls in the

      stairwell at my feet,

            soft voices rising,

  pheromone fog.

He was still there,

my silver knight,

      flirting with some

            fallen Guinivere in

  short shorts and a cropped T.

I kept to the shadows,

observing the game

      I hadn’t dared play,

            absorbing the rules

  with adhesive eyes.

The Rules

Uncomplicated, this

child’s game.

He says,
Please?

She says, “Can’t.”

He, Why not?

She, “I’m not that kind of a girl.”

Then she spends twenty

minutes disproving

the theory, until

Mother calls,
Hija?

She answers, “Mama?”

Mother,
Come inside now.

She, “Be right there.”

It’s a lie. He pulls her

into his lap, silencing

meager protests with

full-lipped kisses.

He insists,
Now.

She resists, “Later.”

He,
Promise?

She, “Cross my heart.”

She Went Inside

I wasn’t sure if I felt more

disappointed or relieved.

Guinivere really had him.

So I shouldn’t want him.                  Should I?

I didn’t really want his perfect

pout, reaching hungrily

for my own timid lips.

I didn’t have a clue how to               kiss.

Didn’t really want his hands,

investigating the hills

and valleys of my landscape.

I’d never been touched by                a boy.

Didn’t want his face,

burrowing into my hair,

finding my neck. Tasting.

I’d never even said hello to such       a complete stranger.

Didn’t want his smoke,

making me gag, making me

want to taste something so gross.

It was all so confusing,                     I mean,

I didn’t want a boyfriend,

no summer fling to make

me want to stay in this alien place.

Anyway, I’d be speechless              if he asked.

I Must Have Moaned

Hey.

He popped above the

stairs suddenly, a

wild-eyed Jack-in-the-box,

anticipating the

pay-off crank.

Oh, it’s you.

Like he knew me,

knew I had no life,

suspected I’d come

spying, set up the game

just for me.

I waited for you.

I coughed a hello,

stamping sweaty

palm prints into not-so

wrinkle-free jeans.

Could he read minds?

I know what you’re thinking.

Smile. Nod. Say

something witty

before he finds

out what an incredible

geek you are.

That you’re too good for me.

He topped the staircase,

slinked closer, golden

eyes narrowing, reached

out and touched the flush

of my cheek.

But you’re wrong.

The Wind Blew Up

My mind raced.

My heart joined in.

I shook my head,

mute as snowfall.

What, then? Why do you look

at me that way?

What could I say?

That some stranger

inside me couldn’t

keep her eyes off him?

I know you can talk. I heard

you before.

I felt her stir, like a

breeze blowing up off

the evening sea. My

wind had awakened.

You know, you’re kind of cute,

in a stuck-up sort of way.

She pumped through

my veins in hot, red

bursts. Blood pressure

rose in my face, blush.

You here for the summer? What’s

your name?

Her tongue curled

easily behind my teeth,

and her words melted

between my lips.

“My friends call me Bree.”

Bree? Who Was She?

And where did that name

come from? I’d probably

heard it once in my life!

Pretty name, Bree.

Okay, good call.

Confidence flooded our

brain like hormones.

Our turn. Who was he?

My friends call me Buddy.

Hardly a handle

for a white knight.

Bree asked for the name

on his birth certificate.

Mom named me Adam.

Better. We liked it. So

why didn’t he use it?

(Forgetting completely

about the Kristina thing.)

Hard name to live up to.

Not really. It isn’t hard

to fall from grace. Revisit

Genesis. Maybe I’ll go with

you. Might be fun.

You’re a strange girl.

I had to agree. What

was up with this person,

Bree? And was she

a permanent fixture?

But I’d like to get to know you.

I Wanted to Know Him, Too

Wanted to know

what Guinivere knew.

Bree might have pulled him

closer, tempted his kiss that very

moment, given hers in return.

But with a sudden slam, reality

kicked into gear. Downstairs,

Guinivere called his name.

He answered,

Up here.

I looked in his eyes, caught

a hint of warped humor,

jumped up to go inside.

He asked,

How long are you staying?

Not long enough, I wanted

to say. But I told him,

“Three weeks.”

He said,

Not much time.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Bree vanished, leaving

panic in her wake.

He finished,

But maybe enough.

The Return of Guinivere

She took in the scene,

face cinder-block hard,

eyes blinking like

mad, black turn signals.

“Who is she?”

As if he had something

to explain. He didn’t,

did he? Yet his voice was

right beside my ear,

  
Bree.

I swear I saw her claws

spring out. I froze, prey.

She told me her name was

Lince. Then translated,

“Lynx.”

She had claimed her territory.

I decided to let the wildcats

play, uninterrupted. His warm

hand whispered against mine.

  
See you soon.

His promise fell,

soft as a premonition,

followed by the bobcat’s

predatory growl,

“Me too.”

That’ll Teach Me

to spy

to moan

to covet

my neighbor’s boyfriend.

I ran inside, tried

to breathe

to laugh

to silence