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Frank's Neighborhood

By Corey Mesler

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Frank knocked rapidly on his neighbor Charlie's door. It was a Saturday morning and there was a blue sedan in the driveway. Charlie opened the door. He had on a bathrobe and pajamas.

"Frank," Charlie said.

Frank stared dumbly. His face was expressionless.

"Come in, Frank," Charlie said.

Frank stepped by Charlie with averted face and Charlie shut the door. Frank stood uncertainly in the entrance hall.

"Coffee?" Charlie asked.

Frank swallowed. "Please," he said. "Please. Charlene left me."

"Aw, Frank," Charlie said and clapped a hand on Frank's shoulder. "What happened?"

"She left me for--" Frank said and in some strange way he had finished the thought. Charlie tried to re-adjust his facial features from bewildered annoyance to sympathy. Frank's vagueness bothered him.

"I'll get that coffee," Charlie said and left Frank pointed toward the living room. Charlie went into the kitchen, took the instant from the cabinet and turned the heat on underneath the kettle. He focused on the burner's blue flame and leaned forward, his hands on the stovetop. Poor Frank, he thought, but no real feeling came. "Poor Frank," he said aloud.

"Frank, you take that black, don't you?" Charlie yelled from the kitchen. There was no reply. Charlie walked back into the living room as his wife was coming down the stairs.

"Who's here?" Karen asked.

Charlie looked around. "No one," he said. "Charlene left Frank."

* * *

Frank went back to his own house and sat in the den. He picked up the television's remote control and turned the set on. A commercial ended with a loud fanfare and the morning movie began. This morning's feature was Invincible Kung Fu Legs. Frank watched the credits and then a few minutes of terrible dubbing. He left the TV on and went into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Frank fixed himself a cup of coffee and a piece of buttered toast. He sat at the kitchen table and dunked the toast into the coffee. When he finished the toast and coffee he rinsed the cup in the sink.

He went upstairs to the master bedroom and sat on the edge of the unmade bed. He could hear water running in the bathroom. Presently the water stopped. Frank examined his hands, the ragged cuticles, the light brown hair.

The bathroom door opened and Frank's wife, Charlene, came out. She had a towel wrapped around her and another wrapped around her hair.

"Oh," she said seeing Frank. Frank looked at her.

"Did you go out, honey?" she asked. "I thought I heard you go out."

"I went next door," Frank said.

Charlene vigorously rubbed the towel around on her head and then let it drop. Her wet blond hair fell in squiggles around her face. She tossed the damp towel into the bathroom. She took the other towel off and patted her calves and shins dry and tossed that towel into the bathroom. She bent to a bottom dresser drawer.

Frank looked at his wife's nakedness. He looked at her thick thigh and round bottom. Her body no longer stirred him and this made him sad. The longer he thought about it, the longer she remained stooped, the more dead Frank felt.

Charlene stood up. She held a sweater in front of her, covering her body from the navel up.

"How's this for Charlie and Karen's tonight?" she asked.

"It's all end-of-the-worldness," Frank said.

* * *

Charlie and Karen were eating breakfast. Charlie was reading the cereal package in earnest.

Karen said, "What's on for today?"

Charlie said, "Nothing, I guess. A little yard work maybe."

A silence ensued and Karen brooded. Karen hated it when Charlie was terse. She fought the darkening of her mood.

"We could catch a matinee," Karen said brightly. "The mall has the new James Bond."

Charlie looked up, into Karen's eyes. "You go," he said.

Karen shrank as if struck. Charlie knew he had been too brusque but there seemed no possible way to back up. He pushed his chair out from the table, took his bowl to the sink and ran some water into it. He hesitated a heartbeat or two at the sink while Karen's motionless back grew implacable.

When Charlie left the room Karen got up and went out the back door. She thought she had better check on Frank. She walked into Frank and Charlene's house through the kitchen door like she had done every day for the past seven years. She called out, "Frank."

There was no answer. The house seemed empty. In the den the TV was on. She walked through the house quietly now, for some reason becoming slightly nervous or embarrassed. She went upstairs.

In the study Karen found Charlene sitting behind Frank's desk. Glasses sat on the tip of her nose; Charlene was writing checks.

"Hi Charlene," Karen said. Odd, but Karen felt a twinge of guilt as if caught snooping.

Charlene looked at Karen and a smile grew on Charlene's face. "Karen," she said. She gestured for Karen to sit on the couch.

Karen sat down. Confusion clouded her mind, making her dizzy, preventing speech. Charlene kept smiling.

"So," Charlene said. "Can I bring anything?"

Karen looked bewildered. She had forgotten the dinner. She had assumed it was called off.

"Um. No, no," she said. "Everything ok?"

"Wait here," Charlene said, getting up from the desk. She skipped through the door. Karen leaned her head back on the couch, feeling suddenly drowsy. She let her head fall to one side and soon she was asleep.

* * *

Charlene knocked on the front door and Charlie answered. "Come in," Charlie said.

Charlie led Charlene into the living room and Charlene sat on the couch. Charlene sat on a chair near the couch.

"Where's Karen?" Charlene asked.

"I don't know. Around here somewhere, I believe."

"She's at my house."

"What?" Charlie said.

"She's at my house waiting for me," Charlene said.

Charlie sighed. "Oh," he said.

It didn't take long for Charlene to seduce Charlie. She lifted her sweater over her head and he responded accordingly. They went into the bedroom

* * *

Frank walked around the blue sedan and looked in the driver's side window. The keys were in the ignition. He knew they would be. Charlie was stubborn about how safe the neighborhood was.

Frank got in and started the car. He checked behind him, backed out of the driveway and drove down the street toward town.

* * *

Karen woke up disoriented. A few uncertain moments went by before she recognized her surroundings. She was lying down on Frank's leather couch. She sat up and wiped the drool from her cheek. All around her was stillness.

She went downstairs and into the kitchen. A half-filled pot of coffee sat on the Mr. Coffee warmer. She got a cup and poured some. She leaned on the counter drinking it. When she finished she rinsed the cup and put it in the dishwasher. She went home.

Her house was as empty as Frank and Charlene's. She went upstairs and into her bedroom. She used the bathroom and then looked out the bedroom window into the back yard. Below her Charlene was treading water in the swimming pool and laughing. Next to the pool was a large black man with a spear.

* * *

Frank caught the bus downtown and rode the twenty-three stops to his neighborhood. The bus stopped just down the street from Frank's house.

"Thank you," Frank said as he departed the bus.

Frank walked up the street reveling in his neighborhood. Never had such a beautiful day dawned in such a beautiful place, Frank thought. A small rainbow appeared in the lawn sprinkler. He found the most commonplace object, a bicycle, a catcher's mask, imbued with a rarefied importance.

When Frank got home he immediately went to his bedroom and lay down. He slept as if he had run for miles.

* * *

Charlene, Karen, and Charlie sat beside the pool with drinks in their hands. They were still laughing about Karen thinking Charlie was a black man with a spear. Charlie was now dressed in a swimsuit and thongs. The scuba diving suit was lying across a lawn chair, a harpoon resting on it.

"White as a sheet," Charlie said again, slapping his thigh. Really the humor of the scene had been sucked dry, but the three of them strained for more connection.

"I guess I best be running along," Charlene said.

"See you later," Charlie said.

Charlene looked back over her shoulder and winked.

"Ta ta," Charlie said.

"Bye," Karen said, still slightly peeved at her neighbor. "She's an odd bird," she said to Charlie.

Charlie smiled faintly.

"She should never leave Frank," Karen said.

"She'll never leave Frank," Charlie said.

Karen looked at the diving suit. She hated its cold, slick blackness. She wanted to burn it, to erase its depressing presence.

"She'll never leave him," she said.

* * *

At six-thirty the doorbell rang. Karen had just finished setting the table. She opened the front door and Frank and Charlene said, "Surprise!" Frank waved a bottle of wine.

The three of them went into the kitchen where Karen was preparing dinner. Frank set the wine on the counter. Charlene peeked into a boiling pot.

"Where's Charlie?" Frank asked.

"He's upstairs on the phone. Someone stole his car."

"Oh no," Charlene said.

"You're kidding," Frank said.

"No. Sometime this afternoon," Karen said.

Just then Charlie appeared in the doorway. His face was grim, a slightly forced smile. "It's not safe anywhere anymore," he said.

"Police know anything?" Frank asked.

"Nothing,' Charlie said. "Here. Let me fix you a drink."

They all went into the living room with their drinks. Frank and Karen sat in chairs, Charlene on the couch. Charlie stood and swirled the ice and bourbon around in his glass. Then he sat next to Charlene.

"Not safe anywhere," Charlie said again.

"The world," Frank said and shrugged.

"One thing or another," Charlie said.

They sat quietly for a few minutes. Charlene slipped her shoes off and drew one foot up onto the couch under her. Her bare sole touched Charlie's thigh. Charlie got up and took everyone's glasses. He went to the kitchen and came back with fresh drinks.

"Bourbon," he said, taking a swallow. He sat down again.

"If it's not one thing it's another. You're right, Charlie. The world is full of piss and poison and there's no spot left unsullied." Frank's face was blank, unreadable. "Try and get a foothold. Try and find some peace amid the storm. Nowhere, you're exactly right. Either your house burns, your car gets swiped, or your wife is fucking your best friend. Ice or fire."

Charlie took a heavy swallow from his drink. Everyone froze in awkward repose. Charlene's foot moved slightly along Charlie's pocket. Karen cleared her throat as if to speak but didn't.

Frank finished his drink with a toss. He looked from face to face.

"I'm going to kill myself," he said.

"Frank," Karen said.

"I'm going to kill myself. I'm not hungry either," Frank said, rising.

"Frank," Charlene said. "Sit down. Stay for dinner."

"No. I'm not hungry. Come home, Charlene."

"Frank," Charlie said.

"Honey," Charlene said.

"Ok. I'm not going to kill myself. I'm also not going to eat dinner." He strode from the room and out the front door.

"I'm sorry," Charlene said and bent to kiss Charlie on the cheek. "Big boy," she whispered in his ear.

She took Karen's hand and the two women walked out onto the porch and shut the door.

"Is everything all right, hon?" Karen asked.

"Oh. Sure," Charlene said. She swallowed, looked across the street, down the block. She shook her head.

"I'm pregnant," Charlene said and she began to smile.

* * *

Charlene found Frank in the kitchen heating a can of soup in a saucepan. Frank glanced around from stirring the soup.

"Bean with bacon," Frank said.

Charlene got two bowls and set them on the kitchen table. She got two glasses and filled them with ice and Tab. She put the glasses on the table and sat down. Frank took the pan of soup off the burner and filled both bowls. They ate.

"Frank?" Charlene said.

"Hm?" Frank said, getting up. He got crackers from the cupboard and sat back down.

"How old am I?" Charlene asked.

"Twenty-nine," Frank said.

"Let's have a baby," Charlene said.

Frank broke a handful of crackers into his soup. He very deliberately submerged each piece with his spoon. He continued eating. Charlene watched him eat the soaked crackers, then she continued eating.

Frank tilted his bowl toward him and spooned up the last bit of his soup. He took a swallow of Tab and rose, taking his bowl to the sink. Frank set the bowl in the sink and stared at it. The bowl was coated with an orange smudge and small flecks of bean. Frank's hand rested on the tap for a moment. He turned toward Charlene.

"Yes," Frank said.

"Yes?" Charlene said.

"Let's have a baby," Frank said.

Charlene rose and slipped her arms around Frank. Frank kissed Charlene, placing his hands in her shirt. They stood at the sink with their arms around each other. Charlene rested her head on Frank's shoulder. Frank stroked Charlene's hair.

"Frank?" Charlene said.

"Hm?"

"Frank," Charlene said, raising her head. "Did you steal Charlie's car?"

Frank looked into Charlene's eyes. He undid her shirt and slid his arms inside. A smile spread enigmatically across his face as he pulled his wife close to him. Over her shoulder his eyes widened, looking into the middle distance. He closed them and a vision came to him. He was floating above the world, above the country of his birth, above his own neighborhood. He could see his own shadow pass over his driveway, his pitched roof, his neatly maintained backyard, his barbecue pit, and he relished the security of ownership. He relished this vision of the world, Frank's world.

"No," he said.

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Corey Mesler has been published in numerous journals and anthologies. His novel, Talk, was released in 2002, and a chapbook of poems, Chin-Chin in Eden, in 2003. He runs Burke’s Book Store in Memphis TN.

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© 2003 Me Three