Hangin With Laney

I enjoy my girl time with Elaine, I really do. We have a lot in common her and I. I don't have a lot of girlfriends with free time I can hang out with. And neither does she. But now Lanes got me.
She is just a couple years old than I am, but much worse the wear. That wasn't a very nice thing to say about my girl. Please don't tell her I said that. Others in our neighborhood arnt so polite. Mostly it's her teeth, or lack off that make her appear old. But when she grins those gaps between her stumps allow her to make a soft whistling sound that's charming to the disconcerting ear. Her hump gives her the posture of a geriatric, but its not her fault. She takes calcium, I've seen her. With that displaced shoulder of hers she bound to have a unique stance.
We attract attention and turn heads when we go out and it concerns us not one bit. We are used to it. We often walk arm in arm through the park when the weather allows. People move out of our way. Some times they talk behind their hands. Smart asses will even question our intent. "What the hell do you think you are doing!" comes their admonishments when Elaine spontaneously joins in their pick nick uninvited. "Wet blankets" and "buzz kills" I whisper into her ear as I readjust my grip on her transfer belt. Shes had a rough life, Miss Elaine. She seizes joy when she can.
We have an exercise plan, us girls. I try to come up with things a lady her age would pursue. And it gets us out of our male dominated homes, she lives with her brother and a couple other guys and me well I dwell in testosteronville. Mondays through Fridays the plan is to walk or swim for an hour. Sometimes we don't feel like it and we just sit in the van and eat. Eating is Elaine's passion. And she is quite good at it. "GOO GOO GOO", she will yell with enthusiasm when I pull into a drive through. She is a chick of few words, two actually but when things are good they are very goo.
I will not force her out of the van if she doesn't want to go no matter what her guardian wants. If Elaine doesn't feel like exercising, I'm not going to force her. There are personal decisions not for anyone but Elaine to make. But I will go back and write in her journal that she accomplished sixty minutes of weight bearing activities per required. If it is deceitful to her guardian, too bad. Someone should have thought about her well being before shaking her beyond repair. But then I would have never met Lany. Or maybe I would and the state would not be paying me to spend time with her.
Her father Elmer comes to the house to visit on rare occasion. He brings produce for Elaine's brother, but never for Elaine. He speaks of the vast farm he owns west of town. There are pictures and articles of his generous good will donations and the success of his farm. No pictures of Elmer with his battered children.
"Elmer" I asked during his last call as he was sitting at the dinning table sharing pickles with his son. "Elaine has recovered from her ear infection, should I go get her?" "No he said. I'm not good with girls. Not my generation". It was Elaine's birthday. I let her eat all the cake she wanted that day.
He made his excuses and started to leave. "Good Bye" he called on his way out. "Momma" was the reply.

Life's Wagers

Dear Life,
Sorry I lost you to Wade today. And why would anyone remake "Foot Loose" anyway?
Never liked it never will, Munkay

Life's Sand in your Egg Salad

Dear Life,
I bet you get tired of being called a beach all the time. I know I do. The first million time it was cute. But now I'm so sick of it. By now I would much rather be reckoned with a plato or a fjord.
Tell those damn crevasses to stop, Munkay

Life's Fruit Bowl

Dear Life,
When you give me lemons, I'm going to find a new life.
Prefers vodka cranberries, Munkay

Life's End?

Dear Life,
So what becomes to me once you are done with me? Had your fill? Ever think about that? Cuz see, I'm pretty committed to you. Here for the long haul. Why do you get to pull all the punches and call it quites at your connivance? I wanna say in this. "Munkay what do you say in this?", I ask myself in my best life like voice. "LIFE!" I reply in my whiskey voice as I exhale the Lucky Strike smoke and reach for another chip.
Chow for now, Munkay

Life's Subconcious

Dear Life,
Whats so wrong with dreaming you away? Altered state smaltered state. Your perfect there and we all need someone to dream of right? (This is where in my head you nod encouragingly and lean in for the softest kiss imaginable. C'mon. Play along we have gone through this a thousand times before.)
Not needing to close my eyes to picture you, Munkay

Life's Life

Dear Life,
I've come to the decision I'm really gonna get into you. Like a stalker. Or a creeper. Stalcreeper. Eather way your ass is mine. And when you question yourself, you'll come to just accept me and roll your eyes and say, "What can I do? That's Munkay."
Life is.....Munkay

Life's Forbidden Fruit

Dear Life,
Why Strawberries? Why not Hmongs. Or encryption. Elevator music is close. As are wealth managers. But not strawberries. Man I would make a hot mess out of a deep dish of Napoleon ice cream right about NOW. If only you'd let me. Bitch.
Chewing my antihistamine as I curse you, Munkay

Life's Recipe

Dear Life,
Why have I never eaten a maple donut with bacon sprinkles before? It is delicious! Surly I am not the only person to think of these things?
Call 911 before I fry up another will ya, Munkay

Yippie Ki-Yay Life

Dear Life,
Explain to me the cowboy age will ya? I know, I know, it is more of a phase then an age but it suits me for all general purposes right? I have never, I meant always wanted pointy toed boots since I seen them three months back. And the hat well that's just practical. Cutting the hubbies leather belt with the big bronco bull down to fit me was resourcing. But the duster is just uncalled for. But so cool. So send me a sign that this is really who I am. Or send me a new look.
Happy Trails, Munkay

Life's Hand

Dear Life,
I am trying my best to make due with the cards you have dealt me. You gave me one raggy Pokemon trading card. One bingo card with the corner numbers blacked out. One "congratulations on your promotion" greeting card minus it's envelope. One obsolete sound card for Hexus. And a debit card from my bank before it's buy out.
Which one would you advise I lead with at my next Texas Hold um game?
Betting all my lemons on the Squirtle card till I hear back from ya, Munkay

Self Centered Life

Dear Life,
Why do you only toss boring people into my ring? Me me me bla bla bla. DING! No there is no round two. That was the sound of my last nerve snapping.
Glass jawed from the yawn, Munkay

Life's Promises

Dear Life,
I promised to love him for ever and ever. That second ever was over bout six months ago right?
With this signature I thee end, Munkay

Life's Mechanical Challanges

Dear Life,
Why must you break my dryer and my oven at the same damn time? What the dishwasher not enough for ya? I'm hungry and I smell bad and now the dog suddenly only wants to only pee on our beds. Please don't recall my liquid soap.
Not the least fixable, Munkay

Life in Law

Dear Life,
Thank you for finally blessing me with a daughter. Now take her back.
Careful of who I wish for, Munkay

Life's Plastic Heaven

Dear Life,
Thank you for the new vanilla scented garbage bags at work. When I go to toss the adult diapers in the trash -oh I'm sorry, I'm supposed to call them briefs, their comforting synthetic aroma makes me want to stick my head down inside and breath their goodness in to obviate all else.
Forever Aromatically Grateful, Munkay

I'm a Hockey Player Life

Dear Life,
Please stop throwing me curve balls eh? At best I can bunt. Or swing wildly and throw my bat into the stands. If all else fails, I plan on leaning in and taking the hit to walk the bases. But I will slide into them with attitude, I will.
I will stop staring into the sun now, Munkay

Paul

The man I love with all my heart smells of Axe body spray and social with drawl. We do not share long drawn out conversations, Paul and I, but I know how deeply he cares. When I walk into the room Paul's crazy eyes light up. "Pizzy! Pizzy! Pizzy?", he will ask me persistently under his breath while his hands make small circles at his sides. That is his way of asking me out for a delicious pizza dinner. I enjoy our special nights out together, but Paul shys away from my touch when I tackle him to the ground and dig the post meal cigarette butts from his mouth in the parking lot after. To hell with the staring eyes. Paul will giggle to himself all the way home.
I knew Paul was different that first night when I walked in on him drinking out of the toilet bowl. "Paul!" I admonished. "STOP IT! That's gross!" I should not judge. He whipped the porcelain toilet tank lid at my head to prove this point.
Strong aromas excite Paul. That is how I kill two birds with one stone. I will wear my my patchouli oil and Paul will lean in but from across the room and close his eyes with a happy smile and breath my sent in.
"Paul, can you say patchouli?", I ask my favorite guy. And he will turn his head away and mutter , "Stink".

Make it Rain

She shifted uncomfortably in the chair parked precariously in the doorway and flipped the toy she was holding. It made a whirling sound like fake plastic rain. ting ting ting ting ting ting ting. It was supposed to be a comforting tool but it only upset her more. ting ting ting ting ting ting ting. She watched the brightly colored little balls as they fell down twisting their way through its clear cylinder casing. She needed to be able to see what was going on the other side. Because it was her turn to worry, her turn. Worry filled her mind more than the simulated rain. Worry showered down through the circuits in her brain. ting ting ting ting ting ting. She wanted to sigh loudly. Fuck she wanted to scream and rock in her chair. But any noise might make more worry and she was having a hard time with the anxiety she had been given. So she just watched. It was day thirteen without the Clonazepam. Two weeks at the nutward. Thirteen days cold and nothing not even an aspirin for the last three hours. ting ting ting ting ting fucking ting.
When Rachel touched her lightly on her back she startled. She had been swinging the toy clumsily like a baseball bat for practice to keep the noise out of her head and in her hands. "You don't need to be in here now, its not helping at this point", she said in her flat voice. "I do", the girl whispered hoarsely, words twisting through her vocal cords on their way out. "I promised I would be right here." "Come", is all Rachel said.
"Do you want to go to the hospital?"
"YES."
" ER Alone? Are you sure? We can find someone to take you."
If there was help it would have been here by now, and she couldn't wait any longer she knew. Bad was coming. She didn't yet trust this Rachel. She stared back at her chair with the toy in it nodding her head and she got her shit together as fast as she could. It was on her at this point, this fuck up she found herself in and she was not about to let go or share with anyone. Especially the scared assed bitches who would talk amongst themselves about protocol behind flapping hands with lowered voices.
She sat in the over air conditioned sterile room waiting for the hand x rays to developed and hoped no bones had been broken. Sometimes hands break before walls when the worry has no way out. Get the warm blankets. Stare at the fluorescent lights. Almost fall asleep f0r the first time in thirty six hours. But the worry crawls under the blankets and wraps its self up in your head and like a cold snake in your belly.
They sent her back with one new order for acetaminophen as needed. One sugar pill. On the way back to her group home the crazy shit began to fly. It started in the back of the state van, cut right across the stress thick air and hit her in the back of her fuddled head. Damn wooden relaxation balls.
The B52 wore off. What was wrong with people thinking a fricken near over the counter medicine cocktail would be enough when an anti psychotic car bomb was what you needed.
Later as she lay on the damp back yard ground facing the shaking young man she begged the officers not to cuff him. His hands hurt him she told them. His speech was slurred from the odd collection of pills she had laid out on the table from behind one of the ripped couch cushions while he was busy kicking the shit out of the rest of the house, but she got him. But not before the bad.
"I didn't do anything bad did I?"
More than anything, Eddy wants to be good.
"No Eddy. Your pulling it together."
"I'm worried. I didn't hurt you did I?"
Images of his attack and the destruction of the last hour wouldn't come back to her till the adrenaline wore off much later. After all the police and paramedics had taken him.
"Eddy, its gonna to be ok starting now. Your ok."
She wanted to hug him hard but her touch would only set him off.
"Are they taking me back to the hospital?"
"A different hospital. They will get your meds right this time."
"Will you be with me when I sleep? Is this a nightmare? You promised to protect me from them. Aaaheeee"
"No Eddy."
"I don't hear the rain."

In Two

As they sat there looking out over the cattails in his beat up green Ford, she was glad for the worn cloth seats. Her black shorts clung to her chunky legs and the t-shirt she spend too long picking out was wet with her sweat. It stuck to the small of her back and her knew she would have the dark semi circles of perspiration under her pits and her boobs. She wanted to look like she didn't care, that she has thrown on any old thing, but truth was she went through her closet, and the laundry hamper, and then her sisters clothes for a good part of the morning. The windows in his truck were rolled all the way down, but there was no breeze coming off the lake to cut the humidity. Thank goodness the trucks seat was cloth so old she could not distinguish the pattern, vinyl would have made it look like she peed herself. She looked down at her legs, thinking she at least had some tan, but remembered she was wearing the cheap sunglasses.
"Click"
The noise came from the drivers seat, she turned the opposite way to look out the window away from him.
"Click"
She knew that noise. She new that noise all too well. When he first made that sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth, she thought that was the sign he was horny.
They had been sitting on his brothers couch watching two TVs at once. The one on the right had some old movie playing. The screen on the left flickered porn. She was loaded and had to go to the bathroom, but the couch was wide and soft and she didn't think her legs would carry her. So there she sat, trying to focus her eyes on one screen or the other.
"Click"
The sound came from her left then too.
"Do you think that is wrong?" He had meant the bad scene being played in front of them. She thought he was talking about watching two TVs at once. So she dumbly shook her head no, she had never seen a skin flick before and wished she had something to drink to cut the sticky sweet taste in her mouth.
He was sweet and gentle when he helped her get to her feet and then to the bathroom. And unlike the images a few feet away from them, she didn't need to fake her pleasure, when he guided her back to the couch.