We change each other

Big breath of air. Rushh

Fffflllyy paperdoll. Russhhhh

Big breath of air. Rushhh

Ffflyyy paperdoll. Rushh

pine treeeeeees. Russhhhhhhhh

laaaaakeee. Russhhhhh

I can touch the pine trees with my toes.

Ruuuussssssshhhhh(ian)

Then I saw Bobby outside his trailer. With his flash flash eyes and light brown hair. And all the miles feel heavy. They feel heavy. 

"Hey baby girl Jo"

(I slip off the slide and walk barefoot back into my house)

I've come home for a weekend. Daddy's sick and mama's in between jobs now working doing some filing for the high school. She keeps going on about the old telephones and how they've not updated the principal's office since god knows when. I remind her we had the same history teacher and she was 25 when I was born. 

"Well I know Joce but still don't change the fact they got to fix those damn floors. Keep staff if they's good but I tell ya that old fuddy-duddy didn't know about the time when the Irish came to New York. He keeps saying dutch dutch dutch like we was stupid. But we've got Irish ancestry and I know sure as hell even my great nana was born on this land"

The living room smells of smokes and Christmas cooking. Daddy had some friends over from the factory and forgot to open the windows. Grandpa and Nana are coming round this evening to help with the roast. Mama was one of those spoiled pretty girls so nana still makes her roast. Mama just sits round and peels onions. Like one of those lovely 12 year old girls with big lakey blue eyes, she peels more than she needs to and leaves them hanging near Nana. As if the onions know the position of the chef and will commence the great onion migration towards her. I imagine onions in uniforms, aligned, dismissive, busy. I draw a heart on my wrist. 

 Grandpa just sits and laments the sale of the house. Why did they sell it. Such big windows, such a big heavy door made of solid wood. They-don't-make-wood-like-that-anymore-babygirlJoce type rants ensue until early evening when Maria calls me from some hotel room on the west coast, shushed into a quiet from all the orgasms and cocaine.

"Joce!! Guess what??"

She's dropped out, had an abortion and is fucking this loser 36 year old who took over his daddy's business at 35. Tire manufacturer.

"Maria, where the hell are you? San Francisco right? I want to come visit early Feb"

"OK silly pants. Yah we're in North Beach Joce. Like wow. It's so beautiful. Luca makes me espresso every morning. I can see the sea from here. I'm trying to keep this baby now. Luca's mom said she wants one"

"Be safe princess. You alright? I'm happy for you. Sit tight til I come visit okay? Won't be long now. Mama's on about the principal's office. You spent most of your time there. Don't even know how you got into Harvard"

"Blowjobs"

We laugh. I miss her beautiful face so much. 

"Okay I've got to go now beautiful"

"Joce, You're the one constant in my fucking life. I miss the time we rode the streetcars with wine in the coke bottles. Remember that one time we went swimming and hitched the ride? Merry Christmas you cold bitch. I love you"

"Yeah hitched the ride. Swam all night. That was forever ago. Bobby looks like white trash. Pretty sure  they want to annex Albuquerque to Mexico. It's that shit here. I love you" I hang up quickly.

*

I go up to my room. Dark browns and browns. Fluttery curtains. A paper chinese lantern I made when Mama was feeling cosmopolitan when I was 4 or so. We made a few together. This one survives. It's got red streaks on white. Bits of blue paint like thick circles survived the years. Embedded on the red. Adorning the red. I light a cig and cry. I miss home when I'm home.