Verse (3 page)

Chapter 10

I glance at Iris’s directions and then back out the window and idly rub the piece of paper between my fingers.

I pull the cord and get off.

I should get back on and go home. No, that’s stupid, it’ll just take me farther away from home. But I could get one going the other way.

No, stop being stupid.

Three and a half blocks to the address.

It’s a big house among a bunch of other big, expensive homes up on a hill. Maybe Iris wrote the address wrong. I’m going to ring some stranger’s doorbell and embarrass myself. Man, I don’t even want to go to this party. I hate parties. I don’t even know anyone.

I hope she did write the address wrong. I could just go home and I’d have a good excuse for her in the morning. Maybe I’ll go home and just tell her the address was wrong tomorrow.

Why would she have written the address wrong? That’s stupid.

Just remember, everyone there is a potential follower.

And Iris is a potential… whatever she might be.

I walk up the concrete steps to the wooden steps up on to the porch. Dance music is coming through the door. It must be the right house.

I take a breath.

Let it out.

I knock.

The door opens, the music getting louder,

Rub me that way

Make me wanna say

revealing Tricia. “Hi, Manuel.”

I open my mouth to reply, but it’s dry, and I swallow.

“Come on in,” she says and steps back for me.

I go inside, blinking.

She closes the door and says, “Food and drinks are in the kitchen and everybody’s around. Have fun.” She walks off.

It’s a large house and there are lots of kids. No one’s dancing. Or paying attention to me. Luckily. I don’t see Iris.

I walk through the living room and the dining room. The varnished wooden floors are a little slippery. I make eye contact with some girl and she looks away.

I walk into the kitchen.

I take a handful of Doritos from the bowl on the counter and continue walking, eating the chips.

There’s a room with a pool table and a foosball table, with kids playing both and a huge television.

There’s a library with huge shelves full of books. Don’t stop and look. Don’t be a nerd.

I finish the chips.

I don’t see Iris anywhere.

I find a bathroom and go inside.

I lock the door, go to the sink and clean the orange dust off my fingers. In the mirror, I look the same as I always do. I’m not dressed up or using hair product or cologne, like a lot of the others. It’s better not to, that way I don’t look like I’m trying. And I don’t have any of that stuff anyway. I run a hand through my hair.

I don’t have to pee really. But I’m here. I do it and flush and go back to the sink and wash my hands and look in the mirror. I shake my head at myself.

“You’re not fooling anyone.”

“This is who I am.”

“Are you gonna ask her?”

“What would I even say?”

“Tell her how you feel.”

“How do I feel?”

There’s a knock and I jolt up straight.

I take breath and unlock the door and leave, past a girl who glances at me and goes in. Did she hear?

I go to the library and look through the books. Nothing really interesting…

The Sensuous Man

I flip it open.

THE VELVET BUZZ SAW

Stiffen your tongue, place it at the tip of her

“What are you reading?”

Iris.

I laugh, “Uh, nothing,” and hold it up.

She laughs, “That’s hot,” and my laugh turns real with hers. I put it away and look at her.

Now’s the time. You’re alone.

“Let’s go get drinks,” she says.

We go to the kitchen. She opens the fridge, it’s full of Miller High Life, and says, “Do you want a beer?”

“Uh…” I don’t want one, but I’ll feel silly if I turn it down. “I don’t think so.”

“All right,” taking one for herself.

I grab a Coke from the door.

We both open our cans and take sips. She cringes and I try not to laugh.

“What?” she says. “It’s good!” and we both laugh.

I follow her into the game room where Tricia and, I can’t remember the guy’s name, Steve? are playing foosball.

He slams one of his lines of players in a spin and the ball shoots into Tricia’s goal. “Yeah bitch!” he yells and cringes. “Uh, I wasn’t calling you a uh, I mean, just saying, er…”

She laughs and takes the ball out of the hole and pops it back into play.

People are dancing in the living room. I glance at Iris, who isn’t paying attention. Kind of I want her to ask me, mostly I don’t. Sort of.

We stand around and talk and then we sit and talk. They talk about teachers and friends who aren’t at the party and movies and television and friends who are at the party but in the next room and each other. I should think of something to say. Iris goes off somewhere with Tricia. I stay where I am and I don’t know anyone, can’t think of anything cool enough to say.

I get up and wander down the hall.

Don’t look for her. Don’t be needy or impose yourself.

Maybe I’ll just stumble upon her.

But then she’ll think I was looking for her.

I take a seat in a plush chair near their huge television. Kids are clustered around, talking, dancing, laughing.

You should introduce yourself, talk, make friends. Use the fact that you have classes with a couple of them as an excuse to make conversation.

You sound like Mom.

A girl and a guy on the couch to the left of me start kissing. Or making out.

What’s the difference?

I need to get out of here.

I stand up and head down the hall toward the door.

Should I say goodbye to Iris?

Will Iris think it’s weird that I don’t say goodbye? Oh well. The awkwardness of going to find her outweighs the awkwardness of trying to explain it on Monday.

I push through a group of people, who are blocking the hallway, saying, “Excuse me.”

At the entryway, Iris is by the stairs, talking to Tricia.

I go and stand next to them. Wait for a gap in their conversation.

Tricia says, “I can’t even tell. Maybe it was the way she said it to him.”

Iris says, “Yeah, I don’t know.”

I say, “Hey.”

Iris turns. “Hey.”

“I’m gonna leave.”

“Oh why?”

“Oh, the bus, it’s going to take me an hour and a half to get home, so you know…”

She nods. “Okay, well I’m really glad you came.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” I say and I think I want to—

“What is it?” she says.

I glance at Tricia, clear my throat, then look back at Iris and say, “Can I talk to you on the porch a second?”

She looks at me oddly and nods.

I grab the knob, it feels greasy, and I turn it and open the door.

The cold air is a shock and I step outside and Iris follows me out and I close the door.

I look at her.

She says, “What is it?”

I say, “You remember the first time we spoke, you asked me how I fell in the pool?”

“Yeah.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

“Oh. Okay. What happened?”

“I did it on purpose. I mean I was trying to, you know… end it.”

“I’m so sorry, Manuel.” She puts a hand on my arm.

“I wanted to tell you, I don’t feel that way any more.”

“That’s good. That’s really good. I’m really happy to hear that.”

I say, “I’m really glad we’re friends.”

“Me too.”

I’m looking in her eyes and I feel a rush as I inhale and I lean forward and kiss her on the lips.

I pull back and I look at her.

She stares at me.

I didn’t close the door all the way and it’s fallen open and Tricia is laughing at me.

Oh my god.

“Bye,” I say, it comes out a wheeze.

Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God.

My legs seem to be moving by themselves. Weird, since I’m so aware of them. They move down the wooden stairs and onto the concrete stairs. The door closes and Iris is back inside. They carry me down the sidewalk, all the way to the bus stop.

A bus won’t arrive for 41 minutes.

I don’t really care.

What I’m feeling will last the rest of my life.

It doesn’t matter where I am, it will follow me.

Chapter 11

I take my tray of food into the dining area. Erwin is at a table with his friends. I go to them and one of his friends looks up at me and says, “Hey Jesus, did you come to part the Red Sea?”

Erwin and the other friend both laugh. At me. I catch Erwin’s eyes and he quickly looks back at his friend, still laughing.

I keep walking.

Sydney’s sitting at the end of the table by the bathroom, headphones on, eating pizza.

I sit down next to him. He lowers his phones and they hang around his neck, tinny hip hop still coming out of them.

Eyyo ya’ll can’t compare

My mic is too nice

Bitches just stare

“What’s up?” he says.

“Hey,” I say and take a bite of my sandwich.

“Last day.”

“Yeah.”

“Excited?”

I say, “No. But I’m glad, I guess.”

He says, “Yeah. What are you doing for the summer?”

I shrug. Stuck at home for three months. “We can hang out some if you want.”

He says, “I have to go to summer camp.”

“What?”

“Yeah, every summer since I was eight. My dad ships me off to the San Juan Islands for two months, because I guess summer break isn’t enough, he needs a break from me too.”

“Oh.”

He says, “At least we can hang out for the next couple weeks, huh?”

“Whatever,” I say.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

I say, “Nothing, I just had a bad night last night.”

“Oh, that party?”

“Yeah.”

“I told you man, those parties all suck.”

“Yeah.”

“What was it? Just a bunch of drunk idiots, right? Or maybe they couldn’t even get any beer and it was even lamer, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what happened?”

“Forget it.”

“Come on.”

I say, “Just stop talking, all right?”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“You are. You just won’t shut up!”

He gapes at me. “What the hell? I thought we were just talking.”

“You’re talking. I’m telling you to stop talking.”

“Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing! Just shut up,” and I push his tray into him and it tips into his lap, his last slice of pizza hitting his pants.

He jumps up and it all hits the ground with a clatter. There’s a large grease stain across the bottom of his shirt and his crotch. “You dick!” and he shoves me in the shoulder.

I jump up and push him back.

And then he’s on me, sort of pushing me, grappling at me. “I’m gonna kill—”

I punch him in the face.

He stops moving and gapes at me.

He’s finally not talking.

Good.

I know that look in his eyes. He’s not crying, but he will be later.

I’m sorry.

I look around. Everyone in the cafeteria is staring at us. They’re yelling.

“—messiah!”

“—dean’s son!”

“Fight!”

I head for the exit.

I catch Iris’s eyes for a split-second and I’m out the door.

Outside, it’s cold and grey, it could start raining.

I go around the corner, zip my coat, and stick my hands in my pockets.

This is right, this is what was supposed to happen.

This is all part of it.

They were never going to be part of it.

They were distractions.

So I would lose my way.

But I won’t forget.

This world needs saving.

I am the messiah.

Chapter 12

ERR ERR ERR

The alarm.

ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR

6:30.

ERR ERR

Too much effort to turn it off.

ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR

I open my eyes and reach over and turn it off.

ERR

I uncurl and roll on my back.

Uckh, I’d gotten used to sleeping in.

Sydney.

Iris.

No friends.

I can’t do this.

I sit up and pull off the blanket and put my legs over the side. It’s cold and I get goose bumps.

I go across the hall to the bathroom and pee. I shiver, but keep it all in the bowl.

I flush.

At the sink I turn on the cold water, bend over, take a drink, and splash it on my face.

I look in the mirror. I wipe the water off and flick it. Drops streak down the mirror.

I get ready and catch my bus. There’s maybe ten people onboard. I find a seat by myself near the back, on the right side.

The man in front of me smells homeless. A woman with too much magenta lipstick talks loudly to the woman in front of her.

Ads line the inside of the bus above the seats.

SMOKING MAKES YOU LOOK EVEN LESS COOL THAN THEM

and there are pictures of animals smoking. I don’t think it’s funny. I guess I could understand why some people might.

Downtown, I transfer to another bus, it’s crowded.

We get to my stop and I get off and walk down the street toward school.

I go inside and go to class.

At lunch, the cafeteria looks smaller.

Sydney looks bigger though. He’s in the same place I left him, but with a thicker neck and worse acne.

Why not?

I walk to his table with my tray and say, “Hey.”

He says, “Hey.”

I kind of smile and he tries not to, but he does too.

I set my tray down and sit down.

I guess that’s that. Three months of bad dreams and angst and that’s that.

I say, “How are your classes this year?”

“Fucking awesome.”

I laugh and take a bite of my sandwich.

Chapter 13

Sydney and I walk into the gym, it’s filled with maybe a hundred guys and forty or fifty girls. Shoes squeak on the floor as they run back and forth.

Erwin’s sitting by himself on the bleachers and we go to him.

I introduce them to each other and Erwin says, “Are you guys here to try out?”

Sydney says, “I’m just waiting for my dad to finish work so I can go home.”

I shrug. “I’m just hanging out.”

Erwin says, “Why don’t you guys try out with me?”

“No,” Sydney says.

Erwin says, “Why not?”

The coach blows his whistle and yells for the guys to line up.

Erwin stands up and says, “Manuel?”

I shrug and follow him down to court.

We scrimmage.

An older guy shoves me to the ground and it’s not an accident.

I go to the free throw line and both teams line up on the key, watching me.

I bounce the ball.

Everyone in the gym is watching me.

I shoot.

I miss.

The coach grabs the ball and tosses it back to me.

I shoot.

I miss.

We win and Erwin and I sit back on the bleachers with Sydney as the girls get divided into teams.

Sydney says to Erwin, “Aren’t you gonna go home?”

Erwin points to a girl throwing the ball in from out of bounds, and says, “I want to say hi to my friend Faye. We haven’t spoken since last year.” She’s pretty good looking. Well, more than pretty good looking. He says to me, “I’ve been thinking about what we were talking about last year. Do you remember? About, you know, existence.”

“I remember, what did you think of?”

“I don’t know, I guess I didn’t come up with much. But I guess I’ve always been looking for a reason I’m alive. Like why am I here and what am I supposed to be doing? But I don’t know if I agree with what you said, that God talks to us and tells us what to do.”

“Well, you shouldn’t believe it just because I said it, you should try to talk to him yourself.”

“You mean like pray?”

Sydney snorts. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I say, “What do you mean?”

“You can’t talk to God, that’s just you talking to yourself.”

I say, “Maybe you’re right.”

“And when you jack off, that’s not God giving you a handjob.”

Erwin and I laugh.

Erwin says, “Yeah, I don’t know, I don’t even know if I believe in God.”

The coach blows the whistle and the scrimmage ends.

I say, “Yeah, I mean, I get that.”

He’s not listening to me, he’s waving at Faye.

She approaches.

He says, “Hi!”

She says, “Hi,” and then to me, “I saw you playing out there, you did real good.”

“Not really,” I say a little high and I clear my throat.

“You too, Erwin,” she says, touching him on the leg.

“Thanks,” he says.

I say, “Maybe you can give your opinion on something for us.”

“Okay,” she says, looking at me again.

I say, “Sydney is of the opinion that God doesn’t talk to us, but I think he does. Erwin doesn’t know.”

She laughs. “Well, I don’t know.”

“Come on, what do you think?”

She’s uncomfortable. “Well, I guess, sometimes I think I can. I mean, I don’t… My mom once did a séance where she talked to her mom, my grandma, so I guess if you can talk to dead people, you can probably talk to God, I don’t know.”

I look at Sydney, breaking eye contact with her. “What do you think about that, Sydney?”

He mumbles, “You can’t talk to dead people either.”

She says, “But she totally knew like personal stuff, stuff the psychic couldn’t’ve known.”

Sydney shrugs. “Yeah.”

She says, “Erwin, I wanted to ask you something about my Russian homework, do you mind?”

He says, “Sure,” and gets up and follows her over to where her friends are and her backpack is. I stare at her butt. I shouldn’t.

Sydney says, “What I really want to know is how to talk to girls like that, not how to talk to God.”

I laugh and say, “What are you doing this weekend?”

He says, “I don’t know, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know.”

Erwin comes back and sits down.

I say, “My mom’s in Portland this weekend for a conference. Do you guys want to come over Saturday?”

Sydney says, “Sure.”

Erwin says, “Yeah maybe.”

I say, “You can invite your friends too. Those guys you hang out with. Or Faye.”

Erwin says, “Yeah. Cool.”