I believe it was somewhere in the neighborhood of four o'clock in the morning. Reading my journal entries from the period I know that it was in late July and it was hot. The kind of night where you have to fan yourself with a photograph of your own underwear in order to try to get some sleep. The kind of night where the last thing you want to do is wrap your sweaty body around someone else's sweaty body.
But I did.
That night I did.
I probably shouldn't have.
But I did.
We were both out at the bar tonight. They have air conditioning there and it was crowded. He ordered drinks in a very loud voice, as if he were proud of the cocktails he preferred. In my own publicly mousy voice I requested glass after glass of wine. I'm a small woman, and I'm not used to drinking like that, but it was hot. It was the kind of evening where you constantly pull your t-shirt away from your body and the perspiration causes it to snap back into place.
Landlord came 'round.
Locked up the appliances.
Haven't paid him since May.
Landlord came 'round.
Kenny and I both have a lot of ambition. We've just spent too much time on the sidelines. He is sleeping and snoring while I finger this crowbar and think about prying open the icebox. I know there is a quart of ice cream and three bottles of tonic in there. There is no way to live this way. It was too hot. It was filthy hot. I had to take a cold shower. Kenny still functions in all those ways, but I was too hot. It was the kind of hot where cold water boils before it hits the shower floor.
Trouble we were in.
Summer ain't friendly to dogs.
No one ever called me a dog.
But they could.
They certainly could.
We weren't down and out no matter how it might have seen. I worked as a waitress in a small bar while Kenny worked in a metal shop making mobiles for the mentally ill. We were part of American commerce. We were engaged in the system and we were living on the edge. It was just that the landlord did not care for us ducking him and spending our money on technologically advanced glue instead of on the rent. We had plans. We wanted to make it big. Now I was standing there dreaming of a cold shower with a crowbar in my hand staring down the refrigerator.
Somewhere in the night.
They say might is right.
Someone starts a fight.
Somewhere in the night.
The thing was that I wasn't completely sure what was actually in the icebox. It had been secured with extra strong chain and menacing looking padlocks. I did know that some form of cold beverage was behind the big white door. I knew it was a lot colder than the room temperature water coming out of the kitchen spigot. What was a pretty young girl like me to do? I had to get inside. There was a justified need to unseal the refrigerator and cool myself off. This was a question of my mental and physical health. When I made something of myself I would look back on these days. The world of memories would not betray me.
Then the power went off.
Just flat out turned off.
The fans stopped blowing.
The air got stagnant.
I wasn't wearing any shirt.
I wasn't wearing any pants.
I had the creeping feeling that the cops were going to arrive at any moment. There weren't any laws that I had broken, although I wasn't all that sure about Kenny's background. For months we had gotten together to ride each other through the night, but now the heat was bringing us closer. The other night I listened to him talk about how he thought about the bread his mother baked for him when he was a child and how that made him cry when he remembered. It was a touching moment followed by a lot of nervous touching. That made it hot. So hot that I could feel the paint beginning to peel off the walls. Without any power. Without any fans. We were doomed.
No one lives forever.
No one hugs a stranger.
People look to you for comfort.
Ya gotta run away together.
There are times when you consider desperate measures in order to keep the flow going in an otherwise empty pool. When there is no water in the pool you consider other liquids. There might not have been water in that refrigerator but there was a crowbar in my hand.
USE IT ALREADY
Don't do no violence.
Killin' is just plain wrong.
Put down that weapon.
Don't do no violence.
I didn't much want to wake Kenny. He is, after all, a very light sleeper. He gets a little crazy when he watches Hee Haw even though that isn't even on anymore. I guess it could be somewhere on cable still, but with the power out there is no chance he could watch it. He would go back to sleep if there was no television, so what exactly is holding me back? When you wield something as fierce as a crowbar in your hand it is very hard to draw back enough force to crack open a locked and sealed icebox.
Be afraid my friend.
Be afraid of the others.
Be afraid of your self.
Be afraid my friend.
They'll get ya in the end.
Ya gotta be afraid my friend.
Smack.
Smack. Smack.
Knockin' on the door
Knock. Knock.
Crack. Crack.
Slap.
Slam. Slam.
Knockin' on the door.
Crack.
Bang. Bang.
Let my love open the door.
Victory.
Kenny seems to be waking. He rolled over and went back to sleep. I have a leg up on the competition. There is a bowl of sliced pineapple in there. The pineapple has holes in the center. There is also some applesauce. It has nutmeg mixed right in. There is also a gallon jug filled with strawberry wine. That will settle me down and make we week in the knees. Is it all better now? I sure hope so, because most of the strawberry wine is squirreling out of my mouth and snaking between my plump little breasts. I can still take a cold shower. I don't need any power for that.
I feel like a new woman.
Something of a more natural woman.
Outside is a whole new world.
It may be so very hot.
And life can be strange.
But this life is mine.
Havoc isn't new.
Its been there since the beginning.
And we're loving every minute of it.