Read Two Girls Staring at the Ceiling Online
Authors: Lucy Frank
Two Girls Staring at the Ceiling (12 page)
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F
or an instant I’m back
or an instant I’m back
on the island,
in his arms,
in a swoon
of such
deliciousness …
“Excuse me, sugar.”
A cart piled high with dishes
pulls up beside us.
“You didn’t fill out your menu
for tomorrow,” says the meal lady.
Till the spasms,
the stink,
the …
And yet
he drove
an hour
to Albany
to bring me this.
She hands me a stubby pencil.
“I won’t be here tomorrow.”
“But you’ll be here for breakfast.
And by the time they get your discharge
sent up, you might be wanting lunch.”
cold cereal
hot meat loaf sandwich
cream of broccoli
cream of wheat
Words dance before my eyes.
“No dessert, hon?
We’ve got apple pie.”
And now why is Mrs. Murch here,
asking if she can get some breakfast.
Anything will do. Her son-in-law
was supposed to be here hours ago.
He’s never late, and by the way,
wasn’t Mom in her English class?
She never forgets a face. Oh, and …
“I don’t think so,” Mom says.
“I went to school in Colonie.
We were just headed to the bathroom.
So if you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Murch …”
She gives me her Nana eyebrow,
whispers: “Meet you
back in the room.
Go read your note.”
s
o lucky
still on the rock
o lucky
still on the rock
crevicey thing
even so
battery
vacuum cleaner
noodle
noodle
dessicant
bag of rice
rotate
rotate
to you sooner if
My eyes race
past the words
to his P.S.:
Anyway. It seems to be OK now.
Hope you’re OK too.
David
To his P.P.S.:
Did I ever thank you for
remembering the guitar?? The
way it rained
that night it would have been deader
than the phone.
To the wings
he’s drawn
around his number.
H
eart galloping,
eart galloping,
I boot up the phone.
Thumbs bumbling,
type the numbers.
Read, reread his note.
What to say
to match his tone?
Thanks.
Too dry?
Or is dry good?
Did I hit send too soon?
I’m much better, thanks!
Getting out tomorrow!
Two texts,
two exclamation points,
too eager?
Like I’m hinting
I want to see him?
Do I?
In the mirror,
skin blue as skim milk,
hands purply
with IV bruises,
bloated belly,
jutting collarbones.
And yet …
“Chess?”
Mom’s knocking
on the bathroom door.
“You’ve been in there a long time.”
“I’m—”
The text chime rings.
Wasn’t sure u’d want to see anyone
so I just dropped it at the desk.
That was so nice of u.
I was kinda worried about it
so went to look the next day
and put back the canoe we hijacked
Got yr jacket too, btw.
“Chessie? Sweetie?”
U swam out there?
Duh.
“I’m okay, Mom.
You don’t have to stand outside the door.
How ’bout I meet you in the room?”
Was with my dad all weekend.
I told u he lives near the lake.
O, right.
He thought i couldn’t fix it.
The noodle dessicant did it.
What’s noodle dessicant?
How long
can we keep talking
about the phone?
I know I already said
sorry about that night but
at least I got yr phone working again.
He knows.
He has to know.
u don’t have to be sorry.
It wasn’t u it wasn’t me.
I seem to have a disease.
No reply.
Night beetles
begin to fly.
David don’t worry. U can’t catch it.
and if ur getting out u must be okbut why didn’t yr friends
say something to me
besides u were in the hospital and
giving me looks like i was some kind of
evil demon.
I told them not to talk to u.
Didn’t want anyone to know.
My cell rings.
“Listen,” he says.
“I never say stuff like ‘be there for you,’
but how can your friends be there for you
if they don’t know what’s going on?”
“Friend?”
The word
prickles in my nose,
mists my eyes.
“Hello?
Chess, you there?”
I nod
as if he can see.
“I was a little worried, you know.
I mean … it’s not exactly
what I had in mind
for the night.”
Before Monitor Me
can stop me, I’m saying:
“You know what
my friend Shannon
would say to that?
No shit!”
“S
o my friend David?
o my friend David?
Who I was with that night?
Who fixed my phone?”
I feel the heat of Mom’s wanting
to know everything fighting
her not wanting to screw up
what we’ve started.
And though all I want
is to climb under the covers,
replay the good parts,
delete the bad parts, maybe cry,
I perch on her chair arm,
rest my head on her shoulder.
She scoots over
to make room in the chair,
lifts an arm around me.
I nestle down beside her.
“He lives in Hillsdale, Mom.
And he’s working at Sugar Snap Farm
for a year so he can save enough
for college. He’s really smart, Mom.
And really nice.
And I don’t know when yet, but
I’m pretty sure
I’m gonna see him.
“And I need you to know.
What everyone thought
happened that night?
It wasn’t what happened.”
“I know.
I found the dress in the trash.
I washed it.
Don’t worry, Chess.
It came out fine.”
“When I give it back to Lexie
do I have to tell her?”
“You don’t have to tell anyone anything
you’re not ready to tell.”
So … if I don’t feel like talking to anyone
for a while?”
Her arm tightens
around me.
“It’s okay.”
“It sucks being sick.”
“Truly,” she says.
I nod
into her armpit.
Keep on
nodding.
“Y
O!
O!
NO CRYING HERE!”
“Oh. Sorry, Shannon.
Did I wake you?”
“And what’d I tell you
about that sorry shit?
“You’re not sorry.
You told me yourself.
You’re pissed as hell.
Like me.”
“So I was right! You did hear
what I told you in the night!”
“Yeah. Now you gonna open
that curtain and
tell me what I’ve missed
these past two days,
or what?”
“So … did you hear
the other stuff?
“The gross stuff?
About what happened?”
“Yeah. Bummer.”
“Well, I just talked to him.
He knows, Shannon.
He saw.
And I think he still
wants to be with me.”
M
any texts,
any texts,
some chats,
plans made,
a lot of laps,
bad food,
a nap.
A tube removed,
some hobbling
bathroom walks,
some sitting up,
a lot of naps.
Sweet dreams
of going home.
“S
hannon? Y’awake?
hannon? Y’awake?
“Listen. I don’t want you
to be disappointed
if he’s not, like, movie-star hot
or outwardly amazing.”
“Who’re you telling?
I’m not the one in
luuvv
and shit.
luuvv
and shit.
I’m not even gonna see the dude.”
“To someone who doesn’t know
him, he might be kind of gawky.
Possibly a little geeky.”
“Geekier than you?”
“But with the warmest, darkest eyes.
Hair the color of caramel,
that like curls down around—”
“So you’re saying
you’re in geek lust.”
“Yes. No.
I don’t know.
No. It’s way more.”
“You really think you meet
some boy and … boom!
The world is beautiful!
Your trouble’s gone!
“No. No. I know.
But …”
It ain’t like that.
Except in songs.”
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