Little Cat - Page 69

I crouched underwater now, up to my chest. My heart was making sounds like the frog. The boy saw me first, a boy with a paunch. He was staring at me with dark eyes and dark lips.

‘Is that the new one? Is she going to stay?’

Gio put his girl down and frowned at his son.

The girl started jumping up and down and pointing at me. ‘Is she gonna come out of the water? Daddy, tell us that story with the woman from the water!’

Gio touched the girl’s chin. ‘Like water, love clings when you hold it loosely. Like water, love goes when you grip it too hard.’

The girl clapped her hands, laughing, looking up at her father. Then she smashed her smile into his thigh.

‘Is she going to stay?’ the boy asked again.

‘No. She’s too wet to come inside now.’

Gio’s daughter was staring at me strangely. She put her finger in her mouth and started wiggling it back and forth. I tried to smile but I couldn’t.

Those were Adi’s kids, I knew.

Gio put his arm around the girl’s shoulders and they started walking up the hill. The boy followed, but he was looking back at me. Like water, love clings when you hold it loosely. Like water, love goes when you grip it too hard. But truth wanders on and on and on …

‘Daddy, can I have that?’ I heard the girl say.

My bloody beanbag pillow was on the sand.

‘No. Leave it. It’s dirty.’

‘But that was Mommy’s special pillow!’

‘I said to leave it.’

‘Why is there blood on it?’

‘Leave it!’

Gio slapped the back of the girl’s head. She let out a yelp and she left it alone. The pillow was like an organ on the ground.

I watched them walk up toward the house. The boy picked up stones from the driveway and threw them back at me. Gio put his arms around both his children and ushered them inside.

I walked out of the water and got my clothes from the car. I shoved my T-shirt into my underwear. Then I crashed down in a small patch of sand. I hugged Adi’s pillow between my legs.

The sun hit my throat. I was bloody. Why was I alone? Is this what happens to amoral Jews?

Ezrah, everyone’s path is from pure to disgusting. There’s some moment that wrenches our nice things away. There are only a few years in our lives when our mothers will keep cleaning us, there are only a few years before our mothers put us down. But still we want to get picked up and thrown in the air! Our mothers say no and our fathers say no. They say children have to walk and learn to clean themselves. So how do we learn to clean ourselves? How can we love each other when we are so filthy?

Ezrah, this is about a secret. You still loved me, I’m telling you, when I was fifteen, when I was out every night with Michael and John. When I was silent, constipated, stuffed up with rags. You still loved me, even though you didn’t know it. You were always so smart. You never got in trouble. You told your parents lies when you drank with your friends, when you drove their car blasted out of your brain. They still bought you your own car when you were eighteen, they still paid for your school, they still thought you were good. Yeah, you’ve always been so smooth. Your lies and my lies should be the same. But I guess what happens when we grow up is that some of us swelter and pour forth the goods and some of us freeze and dive into the cracks. I’m female, right? I went into myself.

You know, I saw this couple the other day walking hand in hand on the street and I knew exactly how they had sex. It’s my talent, Ezrah, I have X-ray vision. I can see how people fuck. And I saw that these two fucked so well, even in hatred, because she was the lock and he was the key. It sounds stupid, I know, but it really works like that! Cunts and cocks have to fit – if they don’t then they’re doomed. You know how people fuck when they’re in love? They each give up their sex for the other. They say: You have my pussy, you take my clit. And: You take my balls, you take my cock. One lover volunteers to be neutered if the other lover can be doubled with sex – full of the power of the pussy and the dick!

Yeah, real lovers are magnets, not attracted to shit. Shit makes you tired. Shit really smells. Fucking’s for parasites who feed off shit! I clean the shit, you understand, Ezrah? It’s a compulsion I have. I’m confessing my compulsion to deal with shit. The shit in the well, at the bottom of the well, the shit in the cold pool and the shit in the creek …

Listen to me. What I’m saying is this: fear is my realm. I’m waiting for fear. Because before anyone comes in, from the moment I’m wet, fear’s stooped beside me, it’s inside my gut. When I’m with a strange man, I’m waiting for fear. It feels really good to meet with this fear.

I heard Gio’s steps crackling down the path. The sun was almost down. I waited until his body cast a shadow over mine.

‘We have to go now,’ he said.

Gio leaned down and tapped my head. The ends of my hair were still wet, all sticking together. Gio took my hand and helped me stand up. He walked over to his car. He motioned for me to follow – Come on, girl, come here. Good girl. I stood there and looked up toward the house. It still looked like a church. Gio had already started the car. I picked up Adi’s bloodied pillow from the ground. I climbed into the car beside him. The muscles on the backs of my legs started spasming. We pulled out of the driveway. I thought I saw the kids waving from the porch.

Tags: Tamara Faith Berger Fiction
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