Electric (short Story)

[Dept of PMM Castle Life]

ELECTRIC

Kenny Klein

The colors are always beautiful, babe. How I wish you were here to see them. Sometimes it’s reds and oranges, sometimes blues and purples. Today it’s golds. Gold and yellow spray, like fireworks. It makes my head spin. Makes me giddy. Like you always did.

I always think of you when I see it, you know? Wishing you were here to see it with me. Wishing you weren’t in that other place. Not yet anyway. Not until we could go there together, like we’d planned. There’s another gold flash. Really bright, too. I wonder how they do that? I mean, how I do that, but they make it happen. How could I have all that in me? I don’t know, I guess there’s a lot in me that I don’t really know about. I mean, how could I be here, if that weren’t the case? Did you know? That first time we met, you said you could see through me. Did you see these colors? The golds and yellows? I saw your eyes. They were green. Sometimes I get greens, but not often. Mostly reds, and blues, and these golds. Electric golds. That’s pretty funny, huh? You would have laughed at that.

Wait, there’s a green. Like your eyes. Green like your eyes. Remember that first day I saw you? Outside Krispy Kreme. I had a bavarian cream donut. You had a big slurpee or slushee or whatever it was called. "What’s my name, boy? What’s my name?"

It’s over, I think. The colors seem to be fading a little. No, a lot. I wonder how long it really takes? It seems like hours. But things that seem like hours sometimes only take minutes. Seconds? Maybe seconds. I mean, when I was lying with you, babe, it seemed like years. Decades. But I was always surprised, if I looked at a clock, how short it took. Fifteen, twenty minutes. Was that enough for you? You always said it was fine. Great. You said it was great. The best. That’s a comparison. How many others were there? You would never tell me. You would never tell me anything about before. You said your life started when you met me. Why did you say that? The colors are gone. I feel you near me when they’re there. When they’re gone, you seem to disappear. I hate that. I hate that feeling, of being back, of being here without you. Why did you have to go to that other place? I thought we were going there together. That’s what you always said. Together. You lied. You went without me.

They’re moving me. I feel the rolling movement. It always happens like this. Green walls, green like your eyes. You were standing in front of Krispy Kreme, on Ponce de leon. God, you looked so fine. Short skirt, tight top, those platform shoes, your toenails painted green. Green eyes. "Hey Dick," you said. I looked. I didn’t know you were calling my name. How would you know my name? "Dick! Richard." You knew my name. "What?" I said to you. "How do you know my name?"

You looked at me, hard, green eyes. You laughed. "I got ways. I can see through you." You smiled. "It’s Dick. So what’s my name, boy?"

The rolling goes on. Green walls. I am here now, awake, but it’s hard to open my eyes. I want to keep them closed, stay with you babe. What did you say that day? How did you know my name? You ever told me. Twenty years, you never told me shit. How did you know my name? What did you do before you met me? I put you in school. You did nails. You learned to do nails. Beautiful colors, golds and reds and blues. I liked the blues best, with the little swirls of color. You called it marbling. Like marbles, you said, when you were a kid. So you played marbles? Like a real kid? Like a little girl? Where did you grow up? Here in Atlanta? You never told me. Twenty years. You came home every night. Never lied. Never cheated. Told me you loved me every day. You were an angel.

"Angels go to Heaven," I told you.

"Great. I’ll take you there. We’ll go together," you’d say.

The rolling is slowing down. My place. Green walls, like your eyes. You looked at me hard, green eyes. "What’s my name boy?" I didn’t know. I’d seen you before, I told you that. I didn’t know your name. You drank your slushy. “Want a cigarette?" I asked you. You took one. You coughed. "What, you never smoked before?" I teased you. God, how I wish I hadn’t teased you. You only took another drag. You smiled through the nicotine cough. How that smile froze me! "You still don’t know my name," you said. "I can see right through you." You walked away.

I came back there every day. Finally I saw you again. Getting out of a car. I smiled at you, and you said "hey Dick! Where you been?" God, I’d been there looking for you every day, babe! I gave you a cigarette. You smoked it fine this time. Didn’t cough, just smiled.

Green walls. That’s my place. They left now. That’s fine. I could open my eyes if I wanted, but I don’t want to. Want to stay with you a few more minutes. Why not? What else have I got? They say I have good years ahead of me. How can that be? Who’ll wake up, tell me "you still in bed, lazybones?" Who’ll ask me "what’d’ya stay here with me for? Half a woman?" "Shit," I tell you. "You’ve always been more woman than I can handle." You smiled at that. You didn’t want me to see, but I saw. "I love you babe," I’d say.

"Babe? What’s my name boy?"

"What’s my name boy?" You got out of that car, and said "Where you been, Dick?" I said "been around." Hell, I’d been here everyday. But I didn’t tell you that. "What’s my name boy? Find out yet?" I didn’t know. You puffed that cig, let the smoke out slow. "Want a cigarette?" you asked me.

I took one. "I’ll just call you babe," I told you. Green eyes. You smiled, and your eyes looked at me hard. Green eyes. Like the walls here. My place has green walls. You knew I’d been there every day. You saw right through me.

My friends hated you, remember? Whores hang out on Ponce. She a whore? Guidos. Fuck do they know? Twenty years. Never lied. Never cheated. Came home every night. You loved me. My angel.

I open my eyes, a little. My room. The walls are green. Shit. They tell me I have good years ahead. But what’s the point? You were in a room like this one, weren’t you? In the end. No breasts. Tubes in and out of you. Why the hell did they take your breasts if you were gonna die anyway? What the hell do doctors know? They tell me I’ll get better, that the treatments will make me less depressed. I’m not depressed. I’m just waiting. For you. For the place we were supposed to go together. You went there first. But I know you. You’ll come back and take me. You’re that stubborn.

When I get there, you’re gonna be wearing a short little skirt, and a tight shirt, your beautiful breasts showing through. In front of Krispy Kreme, on Ponce de Leon. You’ll have a slushy. "What’s my name, boy?" You’ll say. "Babe," I’ll tell you. I’ll hold you. I’ll never let you go. Not this time. They won’t take you this time. I’ll know better. No cigarette.

I gave you that first cigarette. I gave it to you. You would have been just fine, but I did that.

I’m never going to get better. I’m gonna stay here forever. See the colors. Electric shock. See you. See green walls. Like your eyes. Like the room you died in. Green walls. What kinda good years is that? No cigarette. That’ll be good years.

"What’s my name, boy?"

"Babe."

I’ll never let you go this time.

 

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