Tennessee Slingshot

Tennessee Slingshot          

        You gotta remember the stains. Right there in Herb’s room. How could you not. I’ve seen you puke there more than once. I know you know what I mean because we were talking about some dead dog and then you splashed biscuits and gravy all over Herb’s boots. And that was only the first time.
         He wasn’t mad, but like he told you that night, he was just curious about why you decided to take shots of Jack on top of the biscuits and gravy you already ate. Before you puked you said you were exempt from its effects because it was Tennessee whiskey and you were from there, from Bolivar. I told you I was from Middleton, just down the road from there. We always beat you in baseball and you admitted you didn’t know the sport but you were so drunk you tried to say you beat us in districts in ’88 and ’90. I told you you didn’t make it those years so how could you beat us.
         You laughed and shrugged and drank some more Jack because this was before you puked it all up and if only I’d known I’d of told you to stop drinking. Drinking Tennessee whiskey doesn’t mean you’re from Tennessee, and being from Bolivar you’re not really either. That’s a big town to us from Middleton even though Bolivar’s only five thousand and I guess that’s small compared to some towns up here. They probably think we shoot squirrels down there.
         Well, I did, sometimes. Deer too. I saw lots of dead things down there, come to think of it. Saw a dead dog on the road once and it took five days for it to be cleared off. I looked out the window as we drove by each day because my brother Art, he had to drive me to the worksite and back since I didn’t yet have my license, so I was free to look at it as I pleased without having to watch the road. The dog was spread out on the shoulder, left legs pointing straight at the ditch and its right legs angled and pointing up at the tree tops by the side of the road because its belly was bloated up like a whitebrown balloon. It was a terrier mostly, but with longer ears that were bitten off after the third day and on the fourth day we were just trying to ignore all the death.
         I told you that story and you puked and I wish I had it to do all over again because I wouldn’t of told it. You only sort of made it in the can, and mostly you just stained the floor. But I felt guilty after that, so I didn’t even mind walking outside and dumping his trashcan into the dumpster. When I got back I was reaching in under the sink for some cleaner and that’s when you came in wiping your mouth and asked me was I really from there or was I just trying to fuck you.
         I said could you blame me for either. And I meant being from Tennessee or trying to know you. I thought know like in the Bible instead of fuck like most people would say, because I thought then how nice it’d be to do so and it might should not be filthed up with a word like that. But then you were just bending over with one hand on your hip and your legs so long under your skirt, and you just saying what are you talking about and then I guess I could of changed my feelings about the words. There wasn’t even a trace of puke on your face and I thought you looked so beautiful and would of continued to think so even if there was. I knew Herb said it before but you really looked so pretty.
         But you were Herb’s girl, and he had his boots splashed, even after he paid for your dinner and all. And it was him that bought that gold necklace you were wearing, the one that kept leading my eyes to your chest.
         He said he wasn’t mad at you. He came down and took the cleaner from me and I went downstairs to leave you two alone. You came down a few minutes later and there I was, sitting on the beanbag, pretending to look at the Hendrix poster on the wall because I didn’t want you to know I was looking at you. And you sat and talked about Herb and how you wished you hadn’t splashed your puke on his boots because you could tell he was mad and you were left wondering. You said that and then you took a drink and continued to wonder I guess. I took a drink and wondered too because I wanted to listen to anything you had to say and if it involved getting rid of Herb I was all ears.
But what you said was did I think it was different for us up here, out around all these northerners.
         You said that and I took another drink because you did and I didn’t want you to think I was some sorta dumbass. Although I knew it didn’t matter what I did or what you thought since you were with Herb anyways. So I took another, bigger drink since I couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it, him being my roommate and all. He could get as mad as he wanted (although he wasn’t) and I could be as nice as I could and just pretend to look at the Hendrix poster although I was really looking at you and the whole damn thing wouldn’t even matter. I answered your question by saying it’s always different for everyone so what does it matter. And I took another big drink and you looked at me a while before taking another one that damn near finished your beer. Then our eyes met for a second and you killed off the rest of your beer and maybe I knew what you were thinking before you said it.
         “Think we could get outta here?”
         I didn’t say anything. I tried taking another drink but it was just full of ice. I said maybe I could use another drink but yeah let’s go. As we walked upstairs I said I could get used to talking to you even though you’re from Bolivar.
         You turned and hit me on the side of the hip and it was oh so sweetly close to my ass and I told you to wait up while I took a shot. You were walking upstairs and you smiled at me like your face was calm but still on fire.
         I took the shot then I waited on the back porch for you a long time.
         Every time I heard a shout I knew it was coming from upstairs where Herb lived. I knew the higher pitched ones were you, shouting back. I got a beer and then I got another and another because the cooler was just right outside on the porch so why not get another drink and another at the house I lived at.
         I was talking to some people when you came out the door and grabbed at my sleeve and pulled me out into the darkness and I was glad that it was just a sleeve because you ripped my collar once before, just before Herb said I was the best roommate and a great friend.
         We were in the dark and your crying scared me a little. I saw your necklace was gone but I still looked at your chest. I told you right away that I wanted no part of it all and then you kissed me.
         You tasted great, wonderful, perfect even though I’d seen you puke up Jack and b and g and some sort of salsa twenty minutes before. I hadn’t eaten any of it so the taste was fine with me. If I didn’t tell you you tasted like food, I thought maybe you’d kiss me again.
         And you did.
         Then it was me who said, “Think we could get outta here?”
         You kind of laughed and you looked so pretty in the light from the street lamp from beyond the fence and then you wiped your nose and asked me did I have a cigarette. I laughed. I said are you still doing that filthy thing and then you laughed and took my hand. When you touched me sparks ran up my arm that I figured if visible would look like those flickering blips of light that speckled the darkness when I used to slingshot rocks straight into the road by my house when I was little and still in Tennessee. The rocks would ricochet into the kudzu and as you pulled me along I thought I was going to hear the thwop and then the zoom and then the ripping sounds the rocks made in the vines across the street. And when you pulled me through the night I wished the streetlamps were gone so we could be alone in that thick, weighty darkness that was so like what covered those Tennesse slingshot nights. Could almost smell the blackness and taste the water in the air.
         It didn’t take me long to know that you didn’t know where you were going, that you were just running down the alley after you opened the gate in the fence. Pretty soon I could not even hear the noise from the people we left on my porch at the party. We were almost out of the range of the streetlamps and you stopped next to the last house in the alley. You took me far away from the light and far away from where I could hear anyone else but you and then you put both your arms around me and pulled me closer to you.
I hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time, besides you, that night. I don’t meet many girls up here. I feel kinda strange since I don’t go to school here and Herb does and you do and all the people who come to our parties do and I just sit there and try to follow everyone else’s talk about things. Important things. They always ask me what year am I or what major do I study and although I suppose it’s nice to be young enough to get misidentified as a college student I still aim to avoid saying I don’t go to school whenever it’s possible to. I sometimes wonder why I’m even up here in the first place, why I ever even left. But it sure felt good to kiss someone I knew was smarter than I ever could be.
         And the other things we did by the fence out there felt good, too.
         But then you kept doing the weirdest thing on the way back. You either got really talkative or you didn’t. There wasn’t no middle ground. Like at first you kept going on about how you wish you hadn’t done it and all, and then maybe you saw my face although I was trying to hide it as hard as I could when I heard you say that. So then you said it’s not that you didn’t want to it’s just that you felt guilty since Herb was your boyfriend and he was my roommate and did I feel guilty too. I just looked off to my right at the other fences because I didn’t know much about my neighbors on that side and thought maybe I should get to know them if they could distract me from the same old traffic of people that came to me and Herb’s place.
         Then you even tugged on my arm a while, when I didn’t answer did I feel guilty. But how could I after what just happened. I don’t like Herb as much as I like some other things so how could I. So I just let you pull on the sleeve that you already ripped until we walked back in the gate at the back of the fence.
         Everything was the same. Same people were on the porch, some standing and some sitting but all were laughing and they either didn’t notice we’d left or they’d forgot. 
You were a little scared to go up so I went up first because I was ready to quit the whole thing and go to sleep. So I mounted the wood porch steps and somebody I didn’t know said where you two been and I spouted off what of it and walked through the door.
         The inside was a little different. You ever walked into a place you knew you been to and just thought wow this looks different. Then you get to wondering if you’ve just set upon something since the last time you’ve seen it and that’s the only difference. More like it’s in yourself than the place that you left and have just found again, like you stepped out and swapped eyes with somebody and now you see what it’s always been. Halfdrunk beers sat everywhere and some were full drunk and empty cups and others were empty cups because they were spilled on the floor. People were lying around and just snoring and I thought Jesus Christ college kids don’t you have a fucking job you have to wake up for. I heard the voice of the loud kid who’d been blabbing on the porch all night. I turned around and everyone was coming inside and he was coming in with them and he was just babbling and I thought I might see you because you didn’t want to stand out in the yard all night or did you. I didn’t see you. So I went upstairs because by God I was through with this party and through with it all.
         I was in the bathroom pissing and wondered why couldn’t you of puked there. I flushed and there was a knock on the door. Not a bang. Just a tapping above the knob. I didn’t answer it. I just looked in the mirror instead. But I knew it was you because of your breathing. I was just looking into glass and you were just breathing. I was breathing too, but I was looking into glass, at myself. You kept knocking harder and harder and harder and even tried the knob a few times. Although why you didn’t say nothing’s beyond me.
         
I didn’t dream anything and I woke up before you did. Herb woke up before us both and was off at work. I walked into the kitchen and made you biscuits and gravy. I guess I wasn’t thinking at all about how last night you threw it all up after you drank some Jack on top of it because if I remembered I wouldn’t of made that stuff but instead might have cracked you some eggs. I wanted to surprise you when you came down.
         You looked like a different person. You were wearing Herb’s shirt which made me think of what we did last night and what you probably did with Herb after you quit knocking on the bathroom door and went into his room. You had your necklace on again. I turned away from you and let the gravy simmer a little longer and held my face closer to the pan because the heat was fine. You said good morning and I turned to ditto you but then you asked me what the fuck was I making that shit for. You covered your face with your hands and I was confused for a second, but then I looked back at the pan and remembered everything and boy did I feel like some kinda dumbass. Not about what happened the night before but for making biscuits and gravy after you threw them up with Tennessee whiskey. I said I was sorry but I already started and did you expect me to eat it all myself. You just sat there at the table with your arms crossed and I guess I knew you’d of left already but were probably too sick to drive yet. The night before, I knew I had you for at least a little while, and now since you weren’t driving away I knew I had you at least until breakfast was over and I can try to tell you how happy that made me but what’s the point.
         I pulled the biscuits out of the oven and put two on a plate and covered them with gravy and then tried to hand it to you even though you said no the first time. You ended up saying it again. I took the plate. That’s why I didn’t dish out two. I let the gravy cool a while so I wouldn’t burn my mouth and while you weren’t looking at me I asked did you want to talk about last night. Nothing from you, so I ate alone for a spell. Then I asked did you hear me and you said yes please stop talking about it. I swallowed and started to tell you what had happened, just to remind you, and you said please please please stop talking about it. So I did.