By Darren Kaminsky
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Darren Kaminsky's novel, Sugar Spun Sisters, appears in serialized form every Monday right here on Me Three. The story follows the lives of five twenty-somethings living in Washington D.C. As far as the editors are currently aware, none of these characters work in politics.
Chapter Forty-Two
Wednesday, September 6Cheap tickets...Will you miss me?...5 hours away by bus...the feeling of being stuck...
4 days back from New York and I dreamt of the green lizard.
He was a scientist in bioengineering, still chomping on his cigar and wearing a white lab coat that didn’t cover his thick long tail. He ran a research team of 20 out of an extensive set of labs that team green lizard used for one very specific purpose: researching my genes. They’d found that I had the same chemical make-up as Dannon vanilla yogurt, the type you have to churn with a spoon in order to mix in the flavor.
I was sitting on a special cot waiting to have more blood drawn. There was a boom box on a counter and I think it was The Gits playing and I was supposed to remember something, something about beginnings and how slow they are and endings and how abrupt they are when the green lizard walked up to me. He was standing on two legs like a normal man and he stuck the needle in my arm. Beyond him, Nell walked in, but only long enough to mix something into a beaker and drink it.
“She’s testing,” the green lizard.
“I can see that,” I said.
“I can make a yin/yang symbol with my face,” the lizard said.
“Oh good, I replied and woke up.
Maybe I dreamt about Nell because she’s back this week? Even though we haven’t heard from her in a week or two so it’s debatable. Brenna and Jean have...several times...claimed she was back and then she hasn’t been back. I’m ready for her to be back, but I’ll believe it when I see her with my own eyes.
Only three days have passed since New York and leaving Dani. I had expected to feel free, but I already don’t. Instead, I feel emptied, literally like someone has taken part of me and I’m no longer quite here, like this no longer quite matters b/c I’m only half here.
Last night, Dani and I talked on the phone for almost an hour and I can’t remember the last time we did that and I didn’t want to get off the phone.
She’s still looking for a job. I suggested she temp, but she’s afraid of temping.
She’s applied for several office type things, but I don’t think she really wants any of them.
Her roommate, Ari, is the boyfriend of an acquaintance of Dani’s who’s currently spending a year on a Fulbright somewhere in Africa. But, despite him having met me and Dani knowing his girlfriend, he keeps saying weird things to her like, “I walk around the house naked sometimes. If you want to walk around naked too that’s fine by me.” Because acquaintance roommates who aren’t nudists casually walk around their apartments naked all time?
Apparently, he makes toast constantly. Every time she goes into the kitchen he’s making toast. Often, he’s standing with his shirt off, but so far she hasn’t found him naked. Or, at least, not that she’s said.
I met him and he’s a nebbishy guy with a sunken chest. I guess I don’t feel he’s attractive enough to feel threatened by him; though, when she told me the ‘walking around nude’ thing I did feel a twinge, but just a twinge.
Jean and Brenna were also away for the weekend, at the Maryland shore. Apparently, with Gaff and some of his friends. They didn’t get back until last night.
Spider is up north somewhere (Vermont, I think), and Kerran, back together with Samantha, is staying with her. He said something about her having grocery shopped. So he’s staying there until her fridge is empty.
That means that I was alone here for two days, two very long days. The house felt very big and very empty. I could hear weird echoes and creaks. I locked my door on Monday and Tuesday nights and thought I heard crashing sounds downstairs. Several times, I woke up thinking that someone was moving up the stairs and I’d freeze and listen with all my concentration, then I’d hear nothing and breathe easier for just a second; then hear another noise and the whole thing would start over.
Knowing that Brenna and Jean were to return, I mopped the kitchen. There were spilled beer smudges across it from our last party and mopping did nothing to remove them, but still I felt like I’d done something when it was over. Even if it hadn’t ended up meaning much.
Talked to Bella tonight on the phone. It was a really tentative conversation, but we made vague plans to hang out. There was some sort of resentment in the background of her voice, like our every interaction is shadowed. Could it be me imagining that?
September 9
I’ve had enough. Enough of parties and shelling out money for food and beer so that Spider and Gaff can come over and eat and drink it all. This place isn’t a house, it’s a hostel and the moment someone even cleans, someone else marches through and leaves a trail of cheetos. When someone cleans, it’s like it doesn’t even matter. With the friends, significant others, boyfriends, girlfriends, lovers, hangers-on, band members, etc. it’s just too many people. With all of them, the space can’t be tamed.
Nell is in NYC visiting on her way back from Peru. She’s staying with her grandmother. Last night, she and Dani went out. Dani wasn’t sure where they’d go. She just doesn’t know NYC well enough, but I still haven’t heard from her so they must have had a good time.
I think that I feel less free. Actually, knowing that she was out last night and knowing that she might have met some other guy, could have gone home with some other guy and I’d never know, has me more tied up in knots than the relationship did when she was here. And, knowing Nell, they were out until very late, till morning I’m sure, and she still hasn’t called. She always calls first. She’s the one who calls and I’m the one who’s nonchalant about the relationship. That’s the way it’s always been. But, she might not be OK, right? I’ll give her another hour and then I’ll call.
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Darren Kaminsky is a writer living in Brooklyn. He can be contacted at sugarspun @ bigbagoftricks dot com.
© 2006 Me Three
