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Homily
There’s an oak down on Lynwood with leaves like half formed faces of paper cranes -from this angle I know I’ll never capture their wishes. Slipping and sliding in the confined folds of sweating palms,I know we’re equals - dying brush under the weight of him. The touch of the bark is softer,less hungry, I would chalk it up to age but can’t speak to the lack of humanity. Maybe blood really is the root of man’s evil,or so Dad would say.
With the edge of darkness hedging spots in my vision ,I think of strange things : How long can a typical spider web stay in tact in the weekday office rush? Does coffee colored skin scar lighter? I wanna know how deep to dig so I’m the kill he’ll remember long after the bleach lives up to the promise on the label and washes all my traces clear away. I hope I bled on his back seat. Funny how the life line never warns of ends like these. I’d be scare if it was useful ,but now I’m just curious how long he’ll let me drag on. Maybe the owls don’t know the difference in cries, it’s all the same night music.
What was it ,Jasmine or Turmeric? Something strong like that that didn’t have regular dates with any Westerners palate but left a decided mark. What seemed like a gaslight flared against the dash , at first I only saw smoked outlines as he rolled down the passengers side of that old Pontiac. Greeted by the shadows of a deep set pair almond eyes and a crooked butt handing lose yet sure while dropping bits of ash on the hot gravel. Every flick slick enough to miss my shoes,the wrong kind of gentleman - I lean forward tentative,only my earlobe exposed.
His ignition drums under the hood with no hiccups and I know what I’m missing. Guess there really is a reason to “Check Engine Light”. Even roads of home shouldn’t be traveled alone. But wasn’t my first late shift and just three stop lights to my front door in good weather. How was I to know.
* * * *
I wonder if his heart pounded. Any gap in focus might have tipped me off. I may be looking for loopholes after the fact - desperation's small crime. Chances were I was one body in string of unknowns. Each time the thrill wore off he’d need to find a bigger hit to make it last. I pictured his pattern when it hurt to do anything else: Top forty ,maybe it calms him before the hunt,deep breath. Watching his scuffed hands shift into a anothers' in a sort of lucid sleep.
The picture of a women would filter in for a moment , tucking him in ,baking flour on the hallows of her cheeks and a sweaty brow. This bringing the same question to mind “What did I just do?” But it’s not enough to sway him - Brom Kintchle ,cherished only son ,instinctive fearer of crowds ,would dissolve into me in one universal burst - snuffing out the inner demons for a while, me tow.
I made it simple,waiting bait on the curb ,looking barely eighteen and easy. He’d squint slowing down by my side. The movie would start with no control over the final cut . Who would be there to watch these rough edits? My trademark brown curls fluttering in the evening warm wind, a fire to the fuse. Maybe it was just time for a release. Nothing personal ,but I almost wish it where,then I could apologize - ask forgiveness and maybe final know the value of those church teachings.
He pulled off the road in front of my Sudan and stared in the rearview past my blinking hazards ,probably scoping foot traffic just to be sure. I’d been standing around for nearly an hour with a flimsy knit jacket and a dead cell ,so the of look of honest concern when he caught light was welcome. I keep hitting replay,each time he murmurs I see it different. Ell, how were you so dumb? Sweet young beauty, he thinks as I’m running up from behind without a second thought. “Do you need some help?”
I shuffled nervous with the weight my backpacking tugging me down , I should have chucked the heels. “My car broke down on, I think it overheated. There’s a beeping too,I’ve no clue. You know what they say about woman drivers.” There was a low chuckle ,but since he didn’t make a move offering to get out and have a look I was a bit worried I had come off like a total dits.
Bet he saw my discomfort and found his groove. The next part was textbook a scruffy ,boyish face ducted out forcing a slight frown and said, “ Um ,it’s not a problem ,but this isn’t exactly my area . I did see a quickie mart or something ‘bout a block down. Think they rent space from a great detailing place I used last time I was here. I could run you down there if you want?”
The desire must have been obvious for those knew how to read it , but only a sheltered girl and a cool demeanor could close the deal. Over the crest of my shoulder I see the embankments that come with large construction hubs, few street lights.
* * * *
Didn’t know how I felt about leaving my car and guitar in the hands of a tow,though given my options the guy seemed decent enough. Don’t ignore the gut when it screams.“ Thanks ,but if it’s cool,do you just have a phone I could borrow so I could call my Sis? My car lock is busted and feel weird leaving this stuff out in the open y'know? “
He starts digging through his pockets before I even trail off. A whiff of new suede,signals expensive taste ,coming up empty. “Opps , no dice but there’s a pay phone at the store. I’ve got some change ,I’ll spot you .“,his smile assures - beaming.
I finger a ripped hole in my shorts ,shit I just bought them too. “Thought you said you were new?” Was this flirting ? I didn’t know, being so out of practice.
“So I did,but doesn’t mean a guy can’t pick up a thing or two” ,he tosses the end of the cig past me ,it lands out of view drawing my focus. A hard bite my lip ,I looked down again before saying, “Fine ,fine you got me - Can I run back to my car real quick,grab some stuff and do little camouflage?”The guy nods casually at his watch “No worries,must be beat, do you need a hand?”
“No thanks, really am stronger then I look ,promise- I’ll be right back.” I Guess he watched me. Eyes fixed on my shape in rearview. Bent forward ,but not enough to make worth his while - a shutter floods my bones. If he saw my “goods “ that wouldn't be much of an excuse anyway. I didn’t think much of my body as it was. Minds on that track don’t care. They can’t ,feelings take energy and he’d need alot of that tonight. I finished digging and slammed the door, tossing the base in my trunk with health push and then did a jog across the lane to the passenger side.
* * * *
He was waiting for the pop when I pulled the handle,persistence would make it my choice and his loose invitation for later. Admitting cumming wouldn’t help my case - one of the dark things barred beneath. I jumped back and slide for the lock and then slowly crossed my legs over the gap as he made room for me. The seats were wedged exactly right,there would be no smooth transition. It seemed bigger from the outside,I smacked my head and had to tuck my feet up ,resting against the front pane.
After some fiddling ,I suddenly remembered my matters. I turn to my helper with right hand held out. “My name is Ellainy,well Ell. Thanks a bunch for this. It’s starting to pour out there and my back’s cramped as hell- long day ,I swear.” There was a long pause that had me thinking I’d step over the small-talk line and last thing I needed to be left stranded.
He tilted sideways to roll his window and then firmly reached to take my hand,they hardy fit together but it lingered. “I’m Sam Jr“ ,he slumped down, beautiful in profile,” Named after your Dad then?”
“ Uh ,yeah kind of and trust me, this ? no trouble .” He dropped into gear and swiveled to check the path pulling back into a glare. “Sam” kept a watchful eye of my checking off stoplights like I did as kid.
The soft scratch of hair relaxed me as I lightly tossed it over one shoulder. The shampoo: Green apples - pick me later, cus eve has yet to ripen. My thighs hugged the lip of the seat ,I missed the direction switch. He slows it jostles me but ,I don’t react. Drowsy and careless,my head drupes back on eager firmness of his chest. We skid lightly,before the movement stops. I can’t connect things - a kiss with too much tongue,too much flavor for that to be the end of it.
I push,spine at the door ,faster. The thumps count out his rhythm. It won’t open,but he has. prime and wet with no buffer between. I go limp,can’t say when. His taste was brutal - surprised I can separate that as being the only thing that was. The breeze was the next anchor,I became solid again beneath these branches. Hope hangs ,ear to the ground I no longer hear him grunt. He’s a black mass. Half on ,half off. Still gripped in delayed fear, he has all of me. Places I have been and love turn seedy. Shouts seem to close in,hitting my ear sharp. Soon maybe I’d be in in better company. Wrong turns were common.
