The first
morning I slipped off the ladder of my
loft bed and landed on my ass. I cried. I cursed my
ex-wife. Then I laughed. I
flexed my ankles and stood up. My ass didn't fall off. I was
whole.
I joined the block association to meet girls. They were all afraid of getting
raped and
mugged. A police captain came to the meeting and handed out whistles so the victim could blow it and summon
neighbours. The girls collected money for brighter lights.
My wife missed me and we started
sleeping together. It was just like a new
girlfriend. I left early before my
son got up, so as not to confuse him.
It was a mild
winter with many sunny, springlike days.
Time didn't seem to pass. I was separated but I was still sleeping with my wife so I stopped. I needed change. I started sleeping with a girl in
Owen Sound. She was heavy and couldn't assume some of the
athletic positions I was used to. On the other hand, I didn't have the warmth of
Bernie, her previous boyfriend. We had awkward breakfasts on
Sunday mornings. I wanted to rush away to visit my son, but I chewed
toast and grinned. She
smoked.
There was always snow on the ground in
Owen Sound. It never seemed to melt or get cleared away. People could
ski. It was a
resort area. I left and never returned. We spoke on the phone and became friends.
You call me. I'll call you. Lose some weight. Develop some
warmth.
I went to a
party and fell in love. She was quiet and
serene, the way my wife had been before she got angry. This girl had a boyfriend, though. Forget him, I told her. I'll show you a
good time. Call me in a few weeks, she said. I'm tied up. I waited
celibately. Almost. Just my wife a couple of times. She was there. It was
convenient. My son saw me leave one morning and I said
hello guiltily.
I cleaned my new place, bought some lamps and dishes and a rug.
Never again with my wife.
I called the girl I loved but she was still tied up. You're not in love with him, I told her. You're too
quiet. I could turn you on,
perk you up. Theater, movies, and dance, songs and jokes. I'm
terrific. She told me to call in a few months.
I bought some wilder clothing and went to parties and danced for hours. I tried to connect. But the beautiful girls were all taken. And I hated the
imperfect ones. One breast smaller than the other. Or else
braces. I wanted a beautiful white smile. Now. I didn't want to wait two years for someone's
bite to be corrected.
I went back to sleeping with my wife. In the morning my son came in and played on the bed and asked if I was moving
back.
Spring came and I had to have extensive
dental work. My teeth were okay but the gums had to go. I felt older. My body sagged. I was eating french fries too much, so I started cooking home. Lettuce and tomatoes. I learned
macrobiotic cooking. I went to exercise class and took up
yoga. My muscle tone changed. I was lean and wiry.
I fell in love with a young, beautiful girl back from
Ireland. She told me I had lovely muscles in my arms, a thick chest, flared nostrils, and distinguished features. We ran our bodies gently over our hands. I don't sleep with a man right away, she told me. Fine,
take your time. A couple of years, decades, even. I can wait.
She broke the next date.
I'm in love with someone else, she said.
I slept with my wife again.
What are you doing here?, my son asked.
I fell in love with a girl who taught
history at the
University. I want a
relationship, I told her. Not just
fucking. Communication. I'll try, she said. But I'm busy. I went to
protests with her. Marched in the rain. Read the
Z magazine with her till three in the morning and fell asleep with a
hard-on.
I answered a
personal ad in a
magazine, a
mineralogist who wanted to meet people outside her field. She had nice breasts and a horrible
twitch which distorted one side of her face. I started twitching, too.
Are you making fun of me? N-no, I'm sorry. I can't help it.
We climbed up to my bed and made love on top of the
sheets, in time to our twitches. At the end her twitch had stopped. She thanked me
profusely.
I began answering lots of ads. None of those
sensitive,
nubile,
whimsical,
aesthetic,
artistic, and warm ladies mentioned their twitches or problems in the ads. But I discovered them right away. I laid my hand on their foreheads and took away
birth marks. I cured stammers and
club feet.
By summer I was tired. My apartment was
steamy. My wife called and begged me to come over. I refused. I had my last personal to respond to. I was with a girl who wanted to
kill her baby and I helped her throw it in the river.
That night I dreamed my wife had bought a
gun and shot me. I woke with a pain in my stomach, the sheets
red, and realized I was
dying.