I stood there, not knowing what to say next. I wanted to walk in old lady Rhonda's apartment and stay forever, protecting her.
Was I crying?
"It's okay, baby," she said, stepping out into the hallway and hugging me.
"I don't want him to hurt you anymore."
And I wanted to tell her about Vern and Madeline. I wanted to tell her about Letch. But most of all I wanted to stay in her arms.
"Please, baby," she said, and I said, "Why do they do it?" and she said, "Do what?" and I said, "Hit us."
We stood, swaying.
"You didn't come up here for this," she said. "What can I do for you?"
I honestly couldn't remember why I'd walked up there. Seeing her face all smashed had erased everything from my mind except protecting her. Finally, I remembered Handa and said, "I asked her."
"I thought she was out of town"
"Got back this morning."
"When are you going out?"
"Tomorrow night."
"Tomorrow! Congratulations. Let me make you some breakfast."
"Let me cook you breakfast," I said. "Since you've had such a rough time."
"You'd do that?"
I figured after making her throw me a phony birthday part; maybe I'd fake a Mother's Day for her. "Would you like breakfast in bed?"
Her eyes welled up. "Oh, Crash Man, you better not go giving an old woman a sense of hope."
Tell Me More
Right eye. I'd like to hear more about the house, he said. I didn't know what else to tell him. We'd been talking about the same things for days, months, years. I said, The house was evil. Evil, he asked. Cursed, I said. Left eye. Angel-Hair sat in front of me. His feet were flat on the floor. His left shoe had a huge scuff across its toe. Right shoe tapped twice. Tell me about your friend, he said. Skyler, I asked. Skyler, he said. His office smelled like tuna fish. Again. Still. Did Skyler see the house stretch, he said. It didn't move whenever anyone was in there besides me, my mom, and Letch. That's why the house is evil, because it keeps secrets, I said. Houses can't keep secrets, he said. AngelHair's eyes popped back and forth, focusing on my right eye then my left eye. His foot tapped a few more times. Letch would say, Is your boyfriend Sklyer coming over today. I'd say, He's not my boyfriend. He'd say, Why don't you ever bring any girls home. And Skyler didn't like coming to my house anyway. Letch made him nervous. And he knew my mom would take off for days on end. Letch would say, What time is your date with Skyler. He'd laugh and say, Are you the pitcher or the catcher. Right eye. Angel-Hair's foot still tapping. He said, So the house looked normal whenever Skyler was there. I knew what he meant. He meant the house wasn't stretched out, wasn't full of the desert. But Skyler never thought our house was normal. Skyler thought Letch was a creep. His eyes are like an eel's, Skyler said. And Letch would ask me, Have you and your boyfriend gone all the way yet. Who, I'd say. Don't be a smart ass, he'd say. Angel-Hair tapped his other foot, with the scuffed shoe. He looked down at it and frowned. Left eye. I said, The house looked normal when Skyler was there. Why, Angel-Hair said and licked his finger and leaned over and rubbed the scuff. It disappeared. He tapped that foot three times. He said, Houses aren't cursed or evil. I said, But all the bad stuff happened in there. He said, But the house didn't do the bad stuff. I didn't answer him. Wondering if every little kid who lived there would be shattered like me. Why don't you blame Letch, Angel-Hair said. Right eye. One time, Skyler was supposed to spend the night, but my mom and Letch finished a whole box of tcha-bliss and Letch was hollering and Skyler said his stomach hurt, called his mom, rode his bike home. I looked at Angel-Hair's shoe again. The scuff was drying and coming back. Angel-Hair said, I asked why you don't blame Letch. Left eye. My mom had this weird way of talking after she'd drank a lot of tcha-bliss, her words stretching into humungous vowels. Another time, Skyler and I played in my room, and Letch came in and said, What are you up to in here, ladies. We didn't say anything. He said, Ladies, do you need some birth control pills. What's birth control pills, I said. Skyler shrugged his shoulders. Letch said, Faggots. Angel-Hair's shoe without the scuff tapped five times. Right eye. Tell me why you don't blame Letch, Angel-Hair asked. How do you know I don't blame Letch, I said. You always talk about the house, he said. I blame both of them, I said. You can't blame the house, he said. But I could. I could blame anything. Anyone. I wasn't through with that house yet and some day I'd make sure no other kid got shattered in there. Hey, ladies, Letch said. What time is the wet T-shirt contest, he asked. I have to go, Skyler said. Don't go, I said. So long, farewell, Letch said to him. What if someone had hidden a can of tuna fish in Angel-Hair's office days, months, years earlier, and the doctor didn't smell it because he was used to it, and why was it called tuna fish anyway. Why wasn't it just called tuna. There were lots of fish. Salmon, trout, halibut, sturgeon. No one said trout fish. Or sturgeon fish. Left eye. He licked his finger again, leaned down, rubbed the scuff. Why can't I blame the house, I said. Do you know what blame is, he said. Blame is placing responsibility on someone, he said. Can't you blame something, I said. No, he said. If I got struck by lightning, I said, can't I blame it. Blame the lightning, he asked. I nodded. Both of his feet tapped twice. No, he said. But I knew I could. I could blame anything. Another time, Letch said, Skyler, you and Rhonda make a lovely couple. Skyler dropped his eyes to the floor, didn't say anything. I dropped my eyes to the floor, too. I said, Where's mom. Letch said, Search me. Angel-Hair said, Blame was created by humans, for humans. Blame only has power if the person knows what he or she did was wrong. Right eye. I had him. I knew that the house knew what it did was wrong. That was the only reason it looked normal whenever Skyler came over or one of Letch's drinking buddies was there. One time Letch and his friend were in the kitchen and I walked in and they stared at me so I said, Hey, ladies, who's pitching and who's catching. Letch's friend laughed and said, Kid's got a big mouth. Letch said, You better get out of here, Rhonda. The house only looked normal because his friend was there, but I knew as soon as he left, things would warp again.
The Levers of Fate
I was with Angel-Hair during high school, and there weren't any proms in there. But I'd seen them on TV, so I knew this was as close as I'd ever come: old lady Rhonda fussing over me, getting me ready for my big date with Handa.
She also gave me $100.
"I can't take this," I said, and she said, "Oh, please," and I said, "No, seriously," and she said, "Then pay me back once you start working again."
And I'd been thinking about work. I'd run into an old coworker who told me the place he was at needed line cooks. "The food is shit," he'd said, "but it's all the beer you can drink after your shift." It wasn't how I'd dreamed it: I'd fantasized about moving to San Francisco and someday cooking at my own restaurant, featuring Meat Trees, but this would have to do.
I took a shower to wash Madeline's scent off of me. Someone in the building must have spent the whole day running hot water because mine was freezing. I stood in the stream, goose bumps raised on my skin, even under my Rorschach tattoo. I rubbed my hand over it, feeling it like Braille, wondering what a blind person would see running their fingers across its topography.
Once I was out of the shower, I smelled my hands, my arms, my shoulders, trying to inhale the slightest trace of Madeline, but she was totally gone. I put on clean clothes, shoved my curls around until they looked less like Vern's eyebrows, which wasn't easy since my hair was thick as asbestos.