Patrick #2 calls from jail. He was picked up at a playground.
What the fuck were you doing at a playground? Mercy asks.
I was just swinging. I swear to god. It's a beautiful night. I wanted to clear my head.
But it wasn't even nighttime yet, families were still there, you looked like a creep.
But I'm fucking not obviously
I was just trying to clear my head
I mean Jesus Christ Mercy c'mon
seriously with all the shit that's
been going on, fuck man, I just
needed to clear my head
But you know the laws in the city man, you can't be at the playground without a kid or a family or something because you know you look like a creep. It would be less creepy if it were me because I'm a woman but dude you can't look at you
Patrick #2 has Carhartt overalls and a red and black plaid on underneath and steeltoe boots and a huge red beard and
you look like a psycho, I would call the police on you, too. I'm sorry, but, just, like, whatever, don't do it again, you're lucky they gave you a warning.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
MERCY
Caroline calls Mercy and says you need to check this website, you need to check that website, you need to check out this and that website because there is some dirt on you, they are saying you have a sex tape! A sex tape! Pan to Caroline, hover above and her beautiful red lips lined with a dark pencil. It is snowing and Caroline and Mercy's favorite bar has just burned down. She is sad. She has been crying and her mascara has run because it does not matter the mascara her eyes are too watery, she shouldn't wear mascara in the first place. Caroline says in the mirror, yes, into her black sleek phone, yes, a sex tape, Caroline says, yes, a sex tape, that is what they are saying Mercy, do you have a sex tape, do you have one did you ever make one and with who who did you make a sex tape with?
Mercy says I don't know.
Mercy says I don't remember.
Mercy says I remember oh my god Patrick. Patrick. Patrick sold this tape.
The newspapers found out a week before that her father was ill. They have not stopped calling. They have not stopped showing up. There are lawyers now. Mercy says to Caroline, we have so many lawyers now, these people won't stop. Patrick told them that Jessica was sick, she says and now this. This sex tape.
You can retaliate. You know that you can, right, Mercy, Caroline says. You can fight this. I don't know where it is yet, it was released in the night so you know that there are about a thousand copies in the world now you know that right.
Mercy says I don't know.
Mercy says I don't remember.
Mercy says I remember oh my god Patrick. Patrick. Patrick sold this tape.
The newspapers found out a week before that her father was ill. They have not stopped calling. They have not stopped showing up. There are lawyers now. Mercy says to Caroline, we have so many lawyers now, these people won't stop. Patrick told them that Jessica was sick, she says and now this. This sex tape.
You can retaliate. You know that you can, right, Mercy, Caroline says. You can fight this. I don't know where it is yet, it was released in the night so you know that there are about a thousand copies in the world now you know that right.
MERCY
Patrick #1 and Mercy take their last trip together ever to New Orleans.
Patrick #1 begins drinking at the Detroit airport at 11am at a sports bar with oversized chairs with slits in them showing their orange hard stuffing. He is drinking vodka neat, double, many.
On the plane, he orders a gin & tonic. He orders another.
On the way out of the airport, he stops at a ratty bar on the outskirts of the airport. He orders a Miller Light.
He asks the cab on the way into the city to stop at a gas station. He buys several mini-shots of rum and a diet ginger ale. He shoots all the shots and finishes the ginger ale by the time they get to the hotel.
He heads to the bar and they sit, he and Mercy and take in the fake gold interior and marble countertops and the pillars and stained glass on the ceiling, the fountains, Patrick's father had gotten them a tremendous deal for the weekend, huge room, sprawling, 30th floor. They are drinking dirty martinis.
It is dinnertime already. They find a restruant close because they will be going out, as far as they are concerned in this moment, for every single meal for the next few days and they have it all planned out so they want to stay in the Quarter, they want to stay close so they find an American food place, not a diner, but something close to it, and he orders a steak and she orders a chicken sandwich and they drink "high gravity" beer as it says on the menu and they drink many beers and Mercy does not eat the chicken sandwich because she does not eat right now.
They take a walk and go down Bourbon Street and each buy two "BIG ASS BEERS" from the vendors and drink them in front of the Christians with their signs boycotting the debauchery around them. Fuck the gays! the signs say. Fuck the aborters! Fuck the Jews! Fuck drinking drugs and sex!
This entire day they have not said a word to each other. Here is a scene where they are sitting next to each other. Across from each other. In the closest of proximities. Here they are holding hands, they are sliding into each other's sides, they are slinking, they are holding each other up. They are not saying a word or at least any words that matter. What have they talked about this whole time? Mercy cannot even begin to fathom.
Here are the words. They come so quickly now. Patrick #1 is telling Mercy how he does not love her and how he wants to be with me and how he is going to hook up with somebody tonight and Mercy you are the only person I have ever loved and I cannot love you because Mercy, I am gay, Mercy, do you believe me, no, no
he is up in her face now
no, no, Mercy, you do not believe me but you must know, I cannot have sex with you anymore, I'm sorry but its over, we cannot be together like this because it does not make sense and it does not work and I'm sorry Mercy but I am better than you, OK, do you know that I am just better than you in every single way you must know that that I can't tell people that we're hooking up or that we're in love or whatever because I am embarrassed of you, Mercy, don't you see, you are embarrassing me
and here is where it gets weird
Mercy, I'm a fugitive, I'm a fugitive Mercy, don't you see, I'm a fugitive Mercy, don't see you, I'm on the run now, Mercy, I'm on the run, don't you see, I'm on the run, I have to go now, Mercy, I have to leave you, and I'm sorry but I have to go now because they are after me, don't you see, they are after us and I have go, I love, I'm on the run now, I'm a fugitive.
3:00 p.m the next day. Mercy is in the California King Size bed alone and she calls Patrick #1's phone repeatedly, 10, 20, 30 times and it goes to voicemail every time where is he where are you Patrick where you I'm worried where you please call or come back to the room.
A knock at the door.
A knock at the door that Mercy does not hear until the third, the fifth. It is the concerige. The concerige is holding him by the collar and saying in a thick jamacian accent dis man dis man jus showed up do'nstairs, dis man jus' called some staff names dis man is havin da po-lice called on him yes he is.
Patrick #1 is stinking and he has no shoes. Where are your shoes, Patrick?
Where did they find you?
They found me a laundry shoot
of a hotel close to here
and these women screamed when they found me
I thought I was in heaven Mercy
all this beautiful white, I thought
I was dead finally and I was elated
and then I realized I was upside down
and I had vomited on all the sheets below me
and it looked like blood
and these women did not speak English
and they thought I was dead, I know they did
and they were screaming like I was dead
and then the cops showed up and they said
Son, why are you upside down with no shoes on in a laundry shoot in this hotel?
and I said
I don't know, I have parents who love me
and raised me right.
Patrick #1 begins drinking at the Detroit airport at 11am at a sports bar with oversized chairs with slits in them showing their orange hard stuffing. He is drinking vodka neat, double, many.
On the plane, he orders a gin & tonic. He orders another.
On the way out of the airport, he stops at a ratty bar on the outskirts of the airport. He orders a Miller Light.
He asks the cab on the way into the city to stop at a gas station. He buys several mini-shots of rum and a diet ginger ale. He shoots all the shots and finishes the ginger ale by the time they get to the hotel.
He heads to the bar and they sit, he and Mercy and take in the fake gold interior and marble countertops and the pillars and stained glass on the ceiling, the fountains, Patrick's father had gotten them a tremendous deal for the weekend, huge room, sprawling, 30th floor. They are drinking dirty martinis.
It is dinnertime already. They find a restruant close because they will be going out, as far as they are concerned in this moment, for every single meal for the next few days and they have it all planned out so they want to stay in the Quarter, they want to stay close so they find an American food place, not a diner, but something close to it, and he orders a steak and she orders a chicken sandwich and they drink "high gravity" beer as it says on the menu and they drink many beers and Mercy does not eat the chicken sandwich because she does not eat right now.
They take a walk and go down Bourbon Street and each buy two "BIG ASS BEERS" from the vendors and drink them in front of the Christians with their signs boycotting the debauchery around them. Fuck the gays! the signs say. Fuck the aborters! Fuck the Jews! Fuck drinking drugs and sex!
This entire day they have not said a word to each other. Here is a scene where they are sitting next to each other. Across from each other. In the closest of proximities. Here they are holding hands, they are sliding into each other's sides, they are slinking, they are holding each other up. They are not saying a word or at least any words that matter. What have they talked about this whole time? Mercy cannot even begin to fathom.
Here are the words. They come so quickly now. Patrick #1 is telling Mercy how he does not love her and how he wants to be with me and how he is going to hook up with somebody tonight and Mercy you are the only person I have ever loved and I cannot love you because Mercy, I am gay, Mercy, do you believe me, no, no
he is up in her face now
no, no, Mercy, you do not believe me but you must know, I cannot have sex with you anymore, I'm sorry but its over, we cannot be together like this because it does not make sense and it does not work and I'm sorry Mercy but I am better than you, OK, do you know that I am just better than you in every single way you must know that that I can't tell people that we're hooking up or that we're in love or whatever because I am embarrassed of you, Mercy, don't you see, you are embarrassing me
and here is where it gets weird
Mercy, I'm a fugitive, I'm a fugitive Mercy, don't you see, I'm a fugitive Mercy, don't see you, I'm on the run now, Mercy, I'm on the run, don't you see, I'm on the run, I have to go now, Mercy, I have to leave you, and I'm sorry but I have to go now because they are after me, don't you see, they are after us and I have go, I love, I'm on the run now, I'm a fugitive.
3:00 p.m the next day. Mercy is in the California King Size bed alone and she calls Patrick #1's phone repeatedly, 10, 20, 30 times and it goes to voicemail every time where is he where are you Patrick where you I'm worried where you please call or come back to the room.
A knock at the door.
A knock at the door that Mercy does not hear until the third, the fifth. It is the concerige. The concerige is holding him by the collar and saying in a thick jamacian accent dis man dis man jus showed up do'nstairs, dis man jus' called some staff names dis man is havin da po-lice called on him yes he is.
Patrick #1 is stinking and he has no shoes. Where are your shoes, Patrick?
Where did they find you?
They found me a laundry shoot
of a hotel close to here
and these women screamed when they found me
I thought I was in heaven Mercy
all this beautiful white, I thought
I was dead finally and I was elated
and then I realized I was upside down
and I had vomited on all the sheets below me
and it looked like blood
and these women did not speak English
and they thought I was dead, I know they did
and they were screaming like I was dead
and then the cops showed up and they said
Son, why are you upside down with no shoes on in a laundry shoot in this hotel?
and I said
I don't know, I have parents who love me
and raised me right.
Mercy
In college, Mercy was a teacher's pet, and by teacher she had one teacher that she loved, in a mutually respectful way, as the teacher decided Mercy was brilliant but needed guidance and Mercy wanted the guidance and so there relationship was respectful and professional yet loving.
Mercy was caught cheating. Mercy was caught literally eating another student's work.
In the afternoon of a test one semester, the teacher asked Mercy to handle the business of tending to the class. Not teaching it, per se, but taking attendance, handing out homework, collecting assignments, 30 minutes tops, no big deal, the teacher did not care if it looked like Mercy was being favored because she was and she could handle it.
Mercy could not handle it. Mercy went through all the assignments, read them with guluttony.
Zoom into Mercy, a fraction away from her face. Look at her short dark hair rebellious hair style, the grown-out princeton haircut she gave herself. Look at her lustily reading her nemesis's project, reading through every shitty story, reading through every narrative and scientific equation, reading through the ways in which her nemesis fulfilled or did not fulfill the assignment. Mercy decided to tear a page of the assignment out. She tore it out and panicked. She tore it out and panicked and then decided to eat it. She tore the page out and didn't know what to do and ate it cold, swallowed it and chewed it and had bits of it in her teeth.
She drove back to her apartment in glee. She would never get caught, not in a million years. How to tell, it looked like there were simply pages missing. That is all. Missing pages.
A security camera shows what happened. Several phone calls, several weeks, knock at the door, meetings, meetings. Mercy, you are caught cheating and putting another student's work in danger. Mercy, you stole intellectual property and then consumed it. Mercy, there are no rules in place here, Mercy, you, yet again, have shown us
Mercy was caught cheating. Mercy was caught literally eating another student's work.
In the afternoon of a test one semester, the teacher asked Mercy to handle the business of tending to the class. Not teaching it, per se, but taking attendance, handing out homework, collecting assignments, 30 minutes tops, no big deal, the teacher did not care if it looked like Mercy was being favored because she was and she could handle it.
Mercy could not handle it. Mercy went through all the assignments, read them with guluttony.
Zoom into Mercy, a fraction away from her face. Look at her short dark hair rebellious hair style, the grown-out princeton haircut she gave herself. Look at her lustily reading her nemesis's project, reading through every shitty story, reading through every narrative and scientific equation, reading through the ways in which her nemesis fulfilled or did not fulfill the assignment. Mercy decided to tear a page of the assignment out. She tore it out and panicked. She tore it out and panicked and then decided to eat it. She tore the page out and didn't know what to do and ate it cold, swallowed it and chewed it and had bits of it in her teeth.
She drove back to her apartment in glee. She would never get caught, not in a million years. How to tell, it looked like there were simply pages missing. That is all. Missing pages.
A security camera shows what happened. Several phone calls, several weeks, knock at the door, meetings, meetings. Mercy, you are caught cheating and putting another student's work in danger. Mercy, you stole intellectual property and then consumed it. Mercy, there are no rules in place here, Mercy, you, yet again, have shown us
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Mercy
Mercy is haunted by the ghost of her 14 year old boyfriend Jace who killed himself after school one day. She thinks of him all the time. Her first boyfriend. The first boy her father had found her with, hands under shirt, over bra, not under bra, because Jace didn't think that way, he was a nice boy, a troubled boy, that's why he liked Mercy, because they were the same he said, don't you know.
When the word got out around school, the whole building became a mosoluem. Mercy's best friend Shandee left without even signing out or getting a note or permission, she took Mercy with her, they had their Moms calls the school later. There was no thinking going on, no learning that day.
It was the same when the bomb threat happened to school. Mercy had so many absences that she couldn't miss the day, the school district did not cancel classes, Mercy had to show up. When she arrived, there were cops and metal detectors and people searching backpacks, bags. Every single exit had police at it. There was no way anyone would get into the school with weapons. When it was Mercy's turn, the principal himself went through her bag.
Do you have any weapons on you, Mercy?
Well, if Huckleberry Finn is a weapon?
When the word got out around school, the whole building became a mosoluem. Mercy's best friend Shandee left without even signing out or getting a note or permission, she took Mercy with her, they had their Moms calls the school later. There was no thinking going on, no learning that day.
It was the same when the bomb threat happened to school. Mercy had so many absences that she couldn't miss the day, the school district did not cancel classes, Mercy had to show up. When she arrived, there were cops and metal detectors and people searching backpacks, bags. Every single exit had police at it. There was no way anyone would get into the school with weapons. When it was Mercy's turn, the principal himself went through her bag.
Do you have any weapons on you, Mercy?
Well, if Huckleberry Finn is a weapon?
MERCY
Mercy's mother shows up to her grandmother's funeral with her birthday presents in tow. She says, I want you to open them, I need you to open them, let's go outside and I want to see you open them.
Yay! Happy Birthday, she says. This is one of my worst memories, Mercy is telling her father. Do you remember? and she was so happy, she got me nothing, some socks, a sweater I wouldn't wear, a used book, a framed picture of a unicorn, which was actually OK, but how could she know I would like that, she didn't, and besides, you know.
Yes, I remember, yes, her father says but he says that a lot. He is wearing a red flowing wig, lots of curls and bigness. He is wearing a freezer pack around his hairline now because of his hot flashes, having a constant headband is not a good look he says but what am I supposed to do, sweat to death?
Yay! Happy Birthday, she says. This is one of my worst memories, Mercy is telling her father. Do you remember? and she was so happy, she got me nothing, some socks, a sweater I wouldn't wear, a used book, a framed picture of a unicorn, which was actually OK, but how could she know I would like that, she didn't, and besides, you know.
Yes, I remember, yes, her father says but he says that a lot. He is wearing a red flowing wig, lots of curls and bigness. He is wearing a freezer pack around his hairline now because of his hot flashes, having a constant headband is not a good look he says but what am I supposed to do, sweat to death?
MERCY
Mercy wants to dye her hair blonde, she tells Patrick #1, I want to dye my hair white white blonde, what do you think, Mercy says, what do you think.
Mercy has dark hair, almost black, and it is long and wavy. She has not always had long wavy hair, she has experimented with her whole life as a sense of control, when things were out-of-control Mercy would cut her hair or dye her hair or do something to prove to the world that her body was her own and that she could do whatever she wanted with it.
Patrick #1 told her early on he liked dark haired girls and curly haired girls and dark, curly-haired girls and so she immediately went back to her original color and grew it out and it grew wavy like an advertisement.
You look like a Ralph Lauren model Patrick #2 said once to her. You look like you just stepped out of a movie set.
Our gorgeous Mercy with her long wavy dark hair now wants to dye it blonde.
Tell me, should I dye it blonde, what do you think? Marilyn Monroe style. What do you think. Jayne Mansfield style. What do you think. Mae West style. What do you think?
I think you'll look like a whore, especially with those dark eyebrows Patrick #1.
Mercy has dark hair, almost black, and it is long and wavy. She has not always had long wavy hair, she has experimented with her whole life as a sense of control, when things were out-of-control Mercy would cut her hair or dye her hair or do something to prove to the world that her body was her own and that she could do whatever she wanted with it.
Patrick #1 told her early on he liked dark haired girls and curly haired girls and dark, curly-haired girls and so she immediately went back to her original color and grew it out and it grew wavy like an advertisement.
You look like a Ralph Lauren model Patrick #2 said once to her. You look like you just stepped out of a movie set.
Our gorgeous Mercy with her long wavy dark hair now wants to dye it blonde.
Tell me, should I dye it blonde, what do you think? Marilyn Monroe style. What do you think. Jayne Mansfield style. What do you think. Mae West style. What do you think?
I think you'll look like a whore, especially with those dark eyebrows Patrick #1.
MERCY
Mercy smokes a cigarette and hates it and throws down on the ground where it gets wet on one end and expands through the side, no saving it. She lights another. She is pregnant and she does not know it and she won't know it for a few more weeks and then she will lose it and this will be the catalyst for her suicide attempt, Patrick #1 does not want anything to do with it and Patrick #2 denies anything and who is the father and who the fuck cares says Caroline who kisses her softly on the lips and says we will get through this and she will get through it with Caroline's help but that is not yet.
A friend of Mercy has a dead baby inside of her, is carrying around the dead carcass of a child that she cannot expel from her body yet. They have a date for her to go to the hospital to induce a labor to birth a dead child. Is it still considered birth if it kid is dead says her friend because birth implies life and this fucker is fucking dead she says and she lights a cigarette. Her stomach is so big and protruding and she looks pregnant, there is no denying it. Mercy stands with hers and smokes a cigarette with her. People who pass on the street are extremely anxious, watching a pregnant woman smoke. One couple looked like they wanted to stop and talk to them about how pregnant women shouldn't smoke and how it is so dangerous for the baby blah blah blah and Mercy's friend is saying this aloud to her, look at those assholes, they seem so fucking concerned with my business, go busy yourself with all of your yuppie as shit fuckers, she says to Mercy. She rubs her belly. You know he stopped movin and I knew before the Drs. told me. I knew he was dead.
Mercy tries to puff and puff on the end of the cigarette that was lit but then keeps extinguishing itself. Her father smoked when she was young but then quit when he started to get better gigs. Nobody likes a smoking queen, yuck he says. Mercy wishes she didn't smoke, she struggles with quitting.
Patrick #1 took her home one night from a date early because he said that her hair smelled too much of smoke and if she wanted to take a shower and re-style her hair he would come pick her up and take her out.
A friend of Mercy has a dead baby inside of her, is carrying around the dead carcass of a child that she cannot expel from her body yet. They have a date for her to go to the hospital to induce a labor to birth a dead child. Is it still considered birth if it kid is dead says her friend because birth implies life and this fucker is fucking dead she says and she lights a cigarette. Her stomach is so big and protruding and she looks pregnant, there is no denying it. Mercy stands with hers and smokes a cigarette with her. People who pass on the street are extremely anxious, watching a pregnant woman smoke. One couple looked like they wanted to stop and talk to them about how pregnant women shouldn't smoke and how it is so dangerous for the baby blah blah blah and Mercy's friend is saying this aloud to her, look at those assholes, they seem so fucking concerned with my business, go busy yourself with all of your yuppie as shit fuckers, she says to Mercy. She rubs her belly. You know he stopped movin and I knew before the Drs. told me. I knew he was dead.
Mercy tries to puff and puff on the end of the cigarette that was lit but then keeps extinguishing itself. Her father smoked when she was young but then quit when he started to get better gigs. Nobody likes a smoking queen, yuck he says. Mercy wishes she didn't smoke, she struggles with quitting.
Patrick #1 took her home one night from a date early because he said that her hair smelled too much of smoke and if she wanted to take a shower and re-style her hair he would come pick her up and take her out.
MERCY
Matrimony. We see Mercy carressing the pictures in a rusted old photo album that stains her handles when she touches the three inner rings. There is a hole in the cardboard cover. The pictures are of her parents and her as a baby in the earliest life she can remember. She finds a particular one she loves, one of her parents holding her and laughing but privately, to each other, and not at her, or even about her, her mother's hair wavy and long and dark and her father's perfect teeth, she cannot get over how white and straight and perfect her father's teeth are, even now, why she did not inherit those teeth.
She is fat and happy and bubbling and looks like both of her parents. She loves this picture and tries to pry it from the cardboard of the album and it sticks and tears and then tears more until the faces of those two people are unrecognizable, erased, who are those hands that hold that bubbly baby? Mercy's eyes fill with tears.
Your mother and I were never married
She never wanted to, she just wanted to have you
our relief. Our Mercy. So we had you.
And now look. Now look.
Mercy's father is drunk and his wig is half-off and he is mumbling
Mercy our relief our relief
you were our relief we thought
everything was going to be OK with you
but our Mercy Mercy Mercy
Mercy had always thought that her parents were married. The divorce was not an actual legal divorce. All the men her mother ran through that were not her father, always searching for her father, always needing her father's acceptance and love, Mercy saw when she was a young girl the way those men treated her, talked to her. It scared Mercy. Luckily, none of those men were ever weird towards Mercy, none of them touched her, frankly most of them ignored her, waiting and wishing for the weekend when she would be shipped off to her father's house. When she finally disappeared, she was sure the man of the week did not even notice.
What happened to her, Mercy asks her father. What happened to her from this photo to death.
I don't know, I can't answer that
I think she was looking for something
that she never found, clearly. I'm glad
for one thing, my Mercy, I'm sure glad
we had you. You are the best thing that
ever happened to me and to her, even
if she never showed it.
She is fat and happy and bubbling and looks like both of her parents. She loves this picture and tries to pry it from the cardboard of the album and it sticks and tears and then tears more until the faces of those two people are unrecognizable, erased, who are those hands that hold that bubbly baby? Mercy's eyes fill with tears.
Your mother and I were never married
She never wanted to, she just wanted to have you
our relief. Our Mercy. So we had you.
And now look. Now look.
Mercy's father is drunk and his wig is half-off and he is mumbling
Mercy our relief our relief
you were our relief we thought
everything was going to be OK with you
but our Mercy Mercy Mercy
Mercy had always thought that her parents were married. The divorce was not an actual legal divorce. All the men her mother ran through that were not her father, always searching for her father, always needing her father's acceptance and love, Mercy saw when she was a young girl the way those men treated her, talked to her. It scared Mercy. Luckily, none of those men were ever weird towards Mercy, none of them touched her, frankly most of them ignored her, waiting and wishing for the weekend when she would be shipped off to her father's house. When she finally disappeared, she was sure the man of the week did not even notice.
What happened to her, Mercy asks her father. What happened to her from this photo to death.
I don't know, I can't answer that
I think she was looking for something
that she never found, clearly. I'm glad
for one thing, my Mercy, I'm sure glad
we had you. You are the best thing that
ever happened to me and to her, even
if she never showed it.
MERCY
A caravan of black SUV's circle the block numerous times and Mercy circles the block with them. They want a picture of her driving into her father's driveway. They want to see the elusive daughter of Jessica H. Christ. They slow down and she slows down. They speed up and she speeds up. She gets in between two of them, a man hanging out of the passenger side window with a camera as big as his head, click click, she puts on the brakes, the car slows down more, more and she turns a sharp left, through a side two-track dirt road that will take her through the woods to her father's house. She pulls into the driveway without being detected, she can hear the truck doors open and shut and open and shut again all the way through the huge front yard, the trees, the night. When it is clear near the lake, you can hear everything, as if water rushing in, through, everywhere, water, water, everywhere.
You would think they would get sick of me by now her father says to her but they never do, a new batch of those fuckers arrive weekly. What kind of photo do they really ever get? Me in my robe. They should actually pay the money to come to the performances in the city, instead of trying to find dirt on my ass.
In fact, they did come to the shows in the city. And when her father was asked to perform other places, in New York, in LA, he said, that was when I knew Jessica was a star. But, you know, an old star. Same as ever, the young girls get all the sexy attention, the old funny ones just get old and funny. Mercy's father graced the style pages and the socialite pages of many a magazine on either coast. I don't know what you're talking about Mercy says to him.
You would think they would get sick of me by now her father says to her but they never do, a new batch of those fuckers arrive weekly. What kind of photo do they really ever get? Me in my robe. They should actually pay the money to come to the performances in the city, instead of trying to find dirt on my ass.
In fact, they did come to the shows in the city. And when her father was asked to perform other places, in New York, in LA, he said, that was when I knew Jessica was a star. But, you know, an old star. Same as ever, the young girls get all the sexy attention, the old funny ones just get old and funny. Mercy's father graced the style pages and the socialite pages of many a magazine on either coast. I don't know what you're talking about Mercy says to him.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
MERCY
Mercy leans in and tries to kiss Caroline in the doorway of her apartment when she leaving for the evening. She leans in softly and slowly and Caroline puts her hands up says what are you doing, what are you doing, moves away, and she kisses her cheek and says that was from Patrick #2 which why in the world would she kiss Caroline for Patrick #2, Caroline thinks Patrick #2 is a total douchebag. Mercy's lips connect with Caroline's cheek briefly and she stands back quickly into the kitchen says, yes, that was for Patrick #2, he says hello and Caroline says I don't know OK whatever and walks upstairs to her bedroom, leaving Mercy in the kitchen to see herself out.
MERCY
Caroline tries on so many dresses that it makes Mercy's headspin. She has her whole closet on her floor and nothing is fitting right and everything is all wrong. Mercy watches her hips fill every dress as if the dress is made for her, she wants to touch the inner concave of her lower back, how everything is concave, her armpits, the backs of her knees. What do you think? she says to Mercy, what about this one? this one? God, I'll just go naked.
One day Mercy leaned in to kiss Caroline but got so freaked out that she kissed her on the cheek and said it was from one of their mutual friends. Caroline did not believe her.
One day Mercy leaned in to kiss Caroline but got so freaked out that she kissed her on the cheek and said it was from one of their mutual friends. Caroline did not believe her.
MERCY
It is, certainly, obstinate, compact, self-disciplined, holding
itself in check, but also amenable, attractive, polished, soft,
agreeable in the hands
Sunday morning and Mercy can't open her eyes wide enough, they seem to softly go back to half-mast, up down, up down. What happened last night doesn't seem real, doesn't seem like it happened at all. Patrick #1 is gone and Patrick #2 is gone and she can't find her phone. She is in last night's clothes, she will wear these clothes for the next week.
May God be with you (and also with you)
Mercy's father dresses up in Sunday best, with a hat like on Easter and a ruffled dress and cardigan and he sits in the living room and watches church on TV, the big women with purple hair and the soulful preachers with expensive suits, can I get an Amen, can I get an Amen. This is before he is so sick that the priest comes for last rites every week, as if he will die at any time. This is my classroom, he tells Mercy. This is where I learn. Can I get a witness. Can I get an Amen? And, almost always, Mercy's father is taking notes, right down to makeup and hair.
Mercy packs two bags, one large duffel bag full of clothes and one hard suitcase full of books. This is all she takes with her. She stops only twice to go to the bathroom on the way home, the highway is empty save for semi-trucks that flash their lights at her because she drives with her brights on. In the second rest area, an old janitor asks her if there is any more chicks in the lady's room and she says I don't know because she doesn't really know but she does, it is 4:00 am and no one else is around. He grumps back at her, smacks his lips, you don't know huh ain't that something.
She pulls into the long driveway full of dead trees. She pulls her car behind the run down boat in the driveway, the broken down Mercedes with the legal tags and license plates, as if her father will ever drive it again. Her father had always had very stylish cars but now he had a van because it was roomy and didn't hurt him so much coming and going from the hospital and the van was parked in the huge two stall garage, out of sight. In the early morning light the boat looked so much bigger. The yard felt like it went for miles. All of the houses on the block looked fake, like a movie set, like Mercy could pry the sides open with her fingers and open the houses fronts on hinges, a doll house.
The woods rustle behind her. It is a photographer. Flash and snap and rustle and run.
You don't love me anymore, she thinks. None of you. None of you love me anymore. She struggles with the key, has to set down everything in her hands to rock the huge front door opens, remembers how much she has always hated this about the front door, the things you forget when you are away for too long.
Sunday morning and Mercy can't open her eyes wide enough, they seem to softly go back to half-mast, up down, up down. What happened last night doesn't seem real, doesn't seem like it happened at all. Patrick #1 is gone and Patrick #2 is gone and she can't find her phone. She is in last night's clothes, she will wear these clothes for the next week.
May God be with you (and also with you)
Mercy's father dresses up in Sunday best, with a hat like on Easter and a ruffled dress and cardigan and he sits in the living room and watches church on TV, the big women with purple hair and the soulful preachers with expensive suits, can I get an Amen, can I get an Amen. This is before he is so sick that the priest comes for last rites every week, as if he will die at any time. This is my classroom, he tells Mercy. This is where I learn. Can I get a witness. Can I get an Amen? And, almost always, Mercy's father is taking notes, right down to makeup and hair.
Mercy packs two bags, one large duffel bag full of clothes and one hard suitcase full of books. This is all she takes with her. She stops only twice to go to the bathroom on the way home, the highway is empty save for semi-trucks that flash their lights at her because she drives with her brights on. In the second rest area, an old janitor asks her if there is any more chicks in the lady's room and she says I don't know because she doesn't really know but she does, it is 4:00 am and no one else is around. He grumps back at her, smacks his lips, you don't know huh ain't that something.
She pulls into the long driveway full of dead trees. She pulls her car behind the run down boat in the driveway, the broken down Mercedes with the legal tags and license plates, as if her father will ever drive it again. Her father had always had very stylish cars but now he had a van because it was roomy and didn't hurt him so much coming and going from the hospital and the van was parked in the huge two stall garage, out of sight. In the early morning light the boat looked so much bigger. The yard felt like it went for miles. All of the houses on the block looked fake, like a movie set, like Mercy could pry the sides open with her fingers and open the houses fronts on hinges, a doll house.
The woods rustle behind her. It is a photographer. Flash and snap and rustle and run.
You don't love me anymore, she thinks. None of you. None of you love me anymore. She struggles with the key, has to set down everything in her hands to rock the huge front door opens, remembers how much she has always hated this about the front door, the things you forget when you are away for too long.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
MERCY
PUBLIC
"It is, certainly, obstinate, compact, self-disciplined, holding itself in check, but also amenable, attractive, polished, soft, agreeable in the hands" (41)
May God be with you (and also with you)
Mercy packs two bags, one large duffel bag full of clothes and one hard suitcase full of books. This is all she takes with her. She stops only twice to go to the bathroom on the way home, the highway empty save for semi-trucks that flash their lights at her because she drives with her brights on. In the second rest area, an old janitor asks her if there is any more chicks in the lady's room and she says I don't know because she doesn't really know but she does, it is 4:00 am and no one else is around. He grumps back at her.
She pulls into the long driveway full of dead trees. She pulls her car behind the run down boat in the driveway, the broken down Mercedes with the legal tags and license plates, everything broken. Her father had always had very stylish cars but now he had a van because it was roomy and didn't hurt him so much coming and going from the hospital and the van was parked in the huge two stall garage, out of sight. In the early morning light the boat looked so much bigger. The yard felt like it went for miles. All of the houses on the block looked fake, like a movie set, like Mercy could pry the sides open with her fingers and open the houses fronts on hinges, a doll house.
The woods rustle behind her. It is a photographer. Flash and snap and rustle and run.
You don't love me anymore.
"It is, certainly, obstinate, compact, self-disciplined, holding itself in check, but also amenable, attractive, polished, soft, agreeable in the hands" (41)
May God be with you (and also with you)
Mercy packs two bags, one large duffel bag full of clothes and one hard suitcase full of books. This is all she takes with her. She stops only twice to go to the bathroom on the way home, the highway empty save for semi-trucks that flash their lights at her because she drives with her brights on. In the second rest area, an old janitor asks her if there is any more chicks in the lady's room and she says I don't know because she doesn't really know but she does, it is 4:00 am and no one else is around. He grumps back at her.
She pulls into the long driveway full of dead trees. She pulls her car behind the run down boat in the driveway, the broken down Mercedes with the legal tags and license plates, everything broken. Her father had always had very stylish cars but now he had a van because it was roomy and didn't hurt him so much coming and going from the hospital and the van was parked in the huge two stall garage, out of sight. In the early morning light the boat looked so much bigger. The yard felt like it went for miles. All of the houses on the block looked fake, like a movie set, like Mercy could pry the sides open with her fingers and open the houses fronts on hinges, a doll house.
The woods rustle behind her. It is a photographer. Flash and snap and rustle and run.
You don't love me anymore.
MERCY
Mercy and Patrick #2 are into horse play, they are into horse play whenever they can. Patrick #2 loves to be saddled up, loves to be pulled by the mouth with a bar. This is what he wants to do on their second date, Mercy explains, this is what he wants to do, he wants me to ride him around the apartment like a horse.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Mercy
The childhood home like a crusted bloody nose. What I mean, I guess, Mercy says, is that I just want to get rid of it, you know, let's sell it dad, let's sell it.
Mercy's father is speechless. He is writing a love letter on his face in MAC makeup, he is lathering in Dior lipstick, he is plucking and pulling and pulling and plucking, he is adjusting, to go boobs or no boobs, the constant question he says aloud like always, to boobs or no boobs.
Before they had the falling out, this is one of the last moments with her father before he goes ill.
This is one of the last performances she will see before she doesn't know if Jessica H. Christ is dead or not. Before she finds the pink letter on her suicidal red letter day, before she leaves her life.
This is the scene where Mercy's father says
Listen, you need to ditch this god forsaken boyfriend, honey, ditch him good
you need to get rid of this guy, he's trash,
get rid of him, Mercy, I don't hear nothing about it again,
nothing, you hear, nothing, I want no part in it,
I don't care about it,
it doesn't mean a god damn thing,
I've over, done, done. You hear me, girl?
Are you listenin?
Mercy's father had settled on boobs for the night. Mercy's father was standing too close as he did when he settled on the breast plate because they were as big as Dolly Parton's, part of the act many times when chose to wear it. With the breast plate on, he didn't know his spatial distance, didn't know he took up so much room. Standing too close, unshaven, half-naked, face painted
You hear me, you hear me good,
get rid of this man, Mercy. Get rid of him.
Don't come around here until you get rid of him.
If I get one more phone call in the night,
I swear to God don't be callin' me and
don't be callin' nobody I know you hear
me girl you best be listenin because
this mama is only gonna say it once
so listen good, baby. No more of this man.
Get rid of him.
Mercy's father is speechless. He is writing a love letter on his face in MAC makeup, he is lathering in Dior lipstick, he is plucking and pulling and pulling and plucking, he is adjusting, to go boobs or no boobs, the constant question he says aloud like always, to boobs or no boobs.
Before they had the falling out, this is one of the last moments with her father before he goes ill.
This is one of the last performances she will see before she doesn't know if Jessica H. Christ is dead or not. Before she finds the pink letter on her suicidal red letter day, before she leaves her life.
This is the scene where Mercy's father says
Listen, you need to ditch this god forsaken boyfriend, honey, ditch him good
you need to get rid of this guy, he's trash,
get rid of him, Mercy, I don't hear nothing about it again,
nothing, you hear, nothing, I want no part in it,
I don't care about it,
it doesn't mean a god damn thing,
I've over, done, done. You hear me, girl?
Are you listenin?
Mercy's father had settled on boobs for the night. Mercy's father was standing too close as he did when he settled on the breast plate because they were as big as Dolly Parton's, part of the act many times when chose to wear it. With the breast plate on, he didn't know his spatial distance, didn't know he took up so much room. Standing too close, unshaven, half-naked, face painted
You hear me, you hear me good,
get rid of this man, Mercy. Get rid of him.
Don't come around here until you get rid of him.
If I get one more phone call in the night,
I swear to God don't be callin' me and
don't be callin' nobody I know you hear
me girl you best be listenin because
this mama is only gonna say it once
so listen good, baby. No more of this man.
Get rid of him.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
MERCY
Patrick #2 made her love Jesus in a way that she was uncomfortable and not prepared for. He made her go to a church outside of the city and outside of her town, to a church where no one knew them.
She was baptized in a pool at a lakeside resort, a beach lodge. She was christened, even though she was not a baby, they have a picture to prove it, or had a picture to prove it. After the baptism, she got drunk and smoked crack with her lover, a blonde shaggy haired butch girl name Reena. She sat on a picnic bench outside of the main house and she and Reena talked about what she was even doing there. She loved Patrick #2 more than life itself she said. The waves of Lake Michigan were 11 feet, crashing and so loud, so loud in enveloped their voices.
You can't stay here with him. You're going to die if you stay here with him.
Winter, before Christmas, Mercy is not alone, she is with Patrick #2 and they are in the car and driving around steep, icy, hilly roads. Mercy is breaking up with him, or at least attempting to, one of many attempts. Patrick #2 is driving fast.
You can't be with me?
You can't be with me?
You can't be with me?
Then you can't be with anyone.
God has put us together, don't you understand
God has put us together
I am sorry but then you can't be with anyone
God has put you with me
and if you can't with me
then you aren't going to be with anyone
and he is driving so fast around the curves and the tires and skidding out, Mercy can hear it, the tires are skidding out from underneath the car and the car goes to the left and then the right and she is so afraid he is going to step on the brakes, he is going to step on the brakes and the car is going to jackknife right into a tree and they are going to die but he doesn't, he doesn't continue to speed up but he also doesn't pump the brakes, she is going to die with him like this with him saying
You can't be with me?
You can't be with me?
Then forget it.
Forget it.
You can't be with me
then forget it
because you are never going to be
with anyone ever again
do you hear me
do you hear me
God put us together
and you can't get out of it
She was baptized in a pool at a lakeside resort, a beach lodge. She was christened, even though she was not a baby, they have a picture to prove it, or had a picture to prove it. After the baptism, she got drunk and smoked crack with her lover, a blonde shaggy haired butch girl name Reena. She sat on a picnic bench outside of the main house and she and Reena talked about what she was even doing there. She loved Patrick #2 more than life itself she said. The waves of Lake Michigan were 11 feet, crashing and so loud, so loud in enveloped their voices.
You can't stay here with him. You're going to die if you stay here with him.
Winter, before Christmas, Mercy is not alone, she is with Patrick #2 and they are in the car and driving around steep, icy, hilly roads. Mercy is breaking up with him, or at least attempting to, one of many attempts. Patrick #2 is driving fast.
You can't be with me?
You can't be with me?
You can't be with me?
Then you can't be with anyone.
God has put us together, don't you understand
God has put us together
I am sorry but then you can't be with anyone
God has put you with me
and if you can't with me
then you aren't going to be with anyone
and he is driving so fast around the curves and the tires and skidding out, Mercy can hear it, the tires are skidding out from underneath the car and the car goes to the left and then the right and she is so afraid he is going to step on the brakes, he is going to step on the brakes and the car is going to jackknife right into a tree and they are going to die but he doesn't, he doesn't continue to speed up but he also doesn't pump the brakes, she is going to die with him like this with him saying
You can't be with me?
You can't be with me?
Then forget it.
Forget it.
You can't be with me
then forget it
because you are never going to be
with anyone ever again
do you hear me
do you hear me
God put us together
and you can't get out of it
Sunday, October 14, 2012
ABSENCE OF SOAP
The classic Ivory soap bar contained sodium tallowate, sodium cocoate, or sodium palm kernelate, water, sodium chloride, sodium silicate, magnesium sulfate, and fragrance.
The way soap bends like sponge, a new formula.
What it means when we bend soap.
It is well with my soul.
Mercy thinks about the way the soap disappears every day. The way it creates a static ring, rings in rings, until the crust is thick, the crust is thick. Mercy loves the way her father's cheek is still warm when she hugs it, it feels round and fleshy as if his whole body was that way.
The Ivory soap of today is made of acids, coconut acid, palm kernel acid, tallow acid, palm acid.
We put acid on our skin, how it dries our hands, how the skin flakes when we wring them.
Mercy doesn't use soap, or at least she didn't until she came back to her father's house to take care of him. There is no body wash in the house, no liquid soap, bars of white stacked one on top of another,
one on top of another.
It is will with my soul.
Mercy uses the soap because there is nothing else there.
Ivory soap has a laundry detergent called Ivory Snow. Ivory Snow, Mercy loves that name.
Mercy names her children all the time, while she is driving, while she is doing the dishes, while she's on dates, espeically then. Mercy changes names all the time. When she was young she wanted to name her daughter Duranna, and then Kennedy, and then Cohen, what about Ivory Snow. Patrick #1 wanted to name his daughter Constance, after his mother, he said when he lied and tried to say that she was dead. Patrick #2 wanted to name his son Tex and didn't care about having any girls. Mercy doesn't know if she could ever be a parent. She was almost a parent once with Patrick #1 but she lost the baby and never told him. If he knew, if he only knew. If she would have had a baby with Patrick #1 her life would be ruined. No turning back. Thank God it didn't happen.
It is well with my soul.
The soap starts to give her rashes, give her burns, give her dry spots on the insides of her elbows and the sides of her breasts. She doesn't ever have the heart to tell her father. She never has the heart to throw the bars of soap away. She doesn't have the heart to stop using it on her father and on herself.
Her father's frail skin doesn't react the same way to it. She got this sensitive skin from her mother.
The way soap bends like sponge, a new formula.
What it means when we bend soap.
It is well with my soul.
Mercy thinks about the way the soap disappears every day. The way it creates a static ring, rings in rings, until the crust is thick, the crust is thick. Mercy loves the way her father's cheek is still warm when she hugs it, it feels round and fleshy as if his whole body was that way.
The Ivory soap of today is made of acids, coconut acid, palm kernel acid, tallow acid, palm acid.
We put acid on our skin, how it dries our hands, how the skin flakes when we wring them.
Mercy doesn't use soap, or at least she didn't until she came back to her father's house to take care of him. There is no body wash in the house, no liquid soap, bars of white stacked one on top of another,
one on top of another.
It is will with my soul.
Mercy uses the soap because there is nothing else there.
Ivory soap has a laundry detergent called Ivory Snow. Ivory Snow, Mercy loves that name.
Mercy names her children all the time, while she is driving, while she is doing the dishes, while she's on dates, espeically then. Mercy changes names all the time. When she was young she wanted to name her daughter Duranna, and then Kennedy, and then Cohen, what about Ivory Snow. Patrick #1 wanted to name his daughter Constance, after his mother, he said when he lied and tried to say that she was dead. Patrick #2 wanted to name his son Tex and didn't care about having any girls. Mercy doesn't know if she could ever be a parent. She was almost a parent once with Patrick #1 but she lost the baby and never told him. If he knew, if he only knew. If she would have had a baby with Patrick #1 her life would be ruined. No turning back. Thank God it didn't happen.
It is well with my soul.
The soap starts to give her rashes, give her burns, give her dry spots on the insides of her elbows and the sides of her breasts. She doesn't ever have the heart to tell her father. She never has the heart to throw the bars of soap away. She doesn't have the heart to stop using it on her father and on herself.
Her father's frail skin doesn't react the same way to it. She got this sensitive skin from her mother.
MERCY
Years later Patrick #1 will tell her that he drove to a city far away, he drove to a city far away and that through all of those cities far away he went to another girls house.
Years later Patrick #1 will tell her that he drove through downtown, over a bridge, through the west side, through two other towns to another city to see another girl that he was courting at the time but had not had sex yet out of respect for Mercy, as if he had any to begin with. He went to this girl's house to have sex with her but instead cried to her about Mercy, which she had no patience for.
He tried to convince her to let him stay the night but she wouldn't let him and tried to take his keys away. He says, in a panic, in a panic, he says, he tried to get the keys back and choked her until she peed her pants. Choked her until she urinated on herself and then threw her down into a snowbank, grabbed the keys, drove off back to the city.
This is what you did to me. You made me choke out some other girl.
Mercy sits with this story. What does it mean to choke out another girl because some other girl broke your heart. Is that like being in prayer, like asking for God?
Years later Patrick #1 will tell her that he drove through downtown, over a bridge, through the west side, through two other towns to another city to see another girl that he was courting at the time but had not had sex yet out of respect for Mercy, as if he had any to begin with. He went to this girl's house to have sex with her but instead cried to her about Mercy, which she had no patience for.
He tried to convince her to let him stay the night but she wouldn't let him and tried to take his keys away. He says, in a panic, in a panic, he says, he tried to get the keys back and choked her until she peed her pants. Choked her until she urinated on herself and then threw her down into a snowbank, grabbed the keys, drove off back to the city.
This is what you did to me. You made me choke out some other girl.
Mercy sits with this story. What does it mean to choke out another girl because some other girl broke your heart. Is that like being in prayer, like asking for God?
MERCY
Mercy and Caroline have known each other since 5th grade, since Mercy got her period and it got all over her goldenrod stirrup pants and Caroline gave her her demin shirt to type around her waist.
Are you fucking him Patrick #1 says
Silence
Are you fucking him
Silence
Tell me now are you fucking him
Patrick #2 is inside the apartment packing his things. She can see him inside. He pulls down some of his clothes from the top of the closet and all of the clothes fall on him, she knows he is cursing. When she is in their bed at night she can see him moving around the room, gathering his things, she knows the course of his energy, his movements. He sits in the rocking chair and smokes a cigarette in his underwear because he no longer gives a fuck about her rules, clearly.
Are you fucking him tell me now
Silence
She is wearing the yellow dress Patrick #1 loves on purpose and the houndstooth pea overcoat on purpose. He keeps looking at her coat. He loves this coat. He wishes he could wear this coat.
What the fuck is wrong with he says.
Snowing. Mercy's back against the driver's side door of his truck. He has his arms on either side of her shoulders, he is leaning into her.
Tell me, Mercy, you fucking whore.
Silence.
Patrick #1 grabs her by the hair and slams her down onto the icy street below. She gets to her feet through some slips and pushes him back and hard as she can and because of the ice he falls, his dress shoes have no traction, he hits his shoulder, she hears it. She begins to run across the street, down the sidewalk, hurry, hurry, into her apartment. She is on the porch and watching as he gets into his car and drives off. She calls his phone 10, 20, 30 times.
Hello
Hi what the fuck where are you going.
Don't ever fucking call me again in your life. You are a sick human being. You disgust me. I thought you were a good person but your not you are spiteful and hateful person, you are terrible.
Wait, come back here, lets work this out, come back here.
Fuck you.
Patrick #2 has packed all of his stuff sans a collared shirt and a broken part of a recorder and some dishes and some paperwork that doesn't matter that she will find later. Mercy blows into the door, screaming about Patrick #1, screaming about him and doesn't notice that all of his things are packed up, doesn't even notice the suitcases and boxes in the living room, doesn't even notice anything. She storms upstairs to the guest bedroom and slams the door. She doesn't notice until the next day when she is puking and hungover and wanting to kill herself that he isn't there and that all of his stuff is gone.
Are you fucking him Patrick #1 says
Silence
Are you fucking him
Silence
Tell me now are you fucking him
Patrick #2 is inside the apartment packing his things. She can see him inside. He pulls down some of his clothes from the top of the closet and all of the clothes fall on him, she knows he is cursing. When she is in their bed at night she can see him moving around the room, gathering his things, she knows the course of his energy, his movements. He sits in the rocking chair and smokes a cigarette in his underwear because he no longer gives a fuck about her rules, clearly.
Are you fucking him tell me now
Silence
She is wearing the yellow dress Patrick #1 loves on purpose and the houndstooth pea overcoat on purpose. He keeps looking at her coat. He loves this coat. He wishes he could wear this coat.
What the fuck is wrong with he says.
Snowing. Mercy's back against the driver's side door of his truck. He has his arms on either side of her shoulders, he is leaning into her.
Tell me, Mercy, you fucking whore.
Silence.
Patrick #1 grabs her by the hair and slams her down onto the icy street below. She gets to her feet through some slips and pushes him back and hard as she can and because of the ice he falls, his dress shoes have no traction, he hits his shoulder, she hears it. She begins to run across the street, down the sidewalk, hurry, hurry, into her apartment. She is on the porch and watching as he gets into his car and drives off. She calls his phone 10, 20, 30 times.
Hello
Hi what the fuck where are you going.
Don't ever fucking call me again in your life. You are a sick human being. You disgust me. I thought you were a good person but your not you are spiteful and hateful person, you are terrible.
Wait, come back here, lets work this out, come back here.
Fuck you.
Patrick #2 has packed all of his stuff sans a collared shirt and a broken part of a recorder and some dishes and some paperwork that doesn't matter that she will find later. Mercy blows into the door, screaming about Patrick #1, screaming about him and doesn't notice that all of his things are packed up, doesn't even notice the suitcases and boxes in the living room, doesn't even notice anything. She storms upstairs to the guest bedroom and slams the door. She doesn't notice until the next day when she is puking and hungover and wanting to kill herself that he isn't there and that all of his stuff is gone.
MERCY
Mercy studied the way in which she types her name on a keyboard. One stroke to the right, one stroke to the left, and then a quick one to the right (E next to R) and then down to C and up up up to Y.
Mercy. and all those spaces. Spacebar. right left right down up up up.
Mercy. and all those spaces. Spacebar. right left right down up up up.
MERCY
Mercy has so many brothers and sisters she doesn't know about and in her dreams she sees them.
Mercy has had so many brothers and sisters but her mother got rid of them all.
When Mercy was little she tried to set her childhood home on fire.
Mercy's father ignored it.
Mercy used to cut herself into five pieces every night and lay a piece of herself on every nightstand in the house. Sometimes her father would eat a piece before bed like a communion, like a pill. Sometimes her father would eat a piece after dinner before she had given a piece of herself to everyone else because he was selfish sometimes. Sometimes Mercy's father wanted all of her Mercy and so he would take four pieces and line them up like sushi and eat one slowly, a truffle or dessert, like a decadance. Sometimes Mercy's father would eat none of them and stare at them all night. Those are the nights he did not sleep well. Those are the nights that sleep never came for anyone in the house because everyone needed a piece of Mercy.
But when the brothers and sisters multipled there would not be a enough of Mercy to go around and so Mercy would have to cut herself up into even smaller pieces but those would not be enough to satisfy so she would hear her brothers and sisters moan and wail all night until they got more which wouldn't be until the next night.
On normal nights there was plenty of Mercy to go around so she would cut herself into five pieces, one for her father, one for her mother, one for her brother, one for herself and one for caroline, she would place it on her windowsill and wait for her to arrive and if she didn't she would have a stockpile of pieces of Mercy at her disposal.
Mercy has had so many brothers and sisters but her mother got rid of them all.
When Mercy was little she tried to set her childhood home on fire.
Mercy's father ignored it.
Mercy used to cut herself into five pieces every night and lay a piece of herself on every nightstand in the house. Sometimes her father would eat a piece before bed like a communion, like a pill. Sometimes her father would eat a piece after dinner before she had given a piece of herself to everyone else because he was selfish sometimes. Sometimes Mercy's father wanted all of her Mercy and so he would take four pieces and line them up like sushi and eat one slowly, a truffle or dessert, like a decadance. Sometimes Mercy's father would eat none of them and stare at them all night. Those are the nights he did not sleep well. Those are the nights that sleep never came for anyone in the house because everyone needed a piece of Mercy.
But when the brothers and sisters multipled there would not be a enough of Mercy to go around and so Mercy would have to cut herself up into even smaller pieces but those would not be enough to satisfy so she would hear her brothers and sisters moan and wail all night until they got more which wouldn't be until the next night.
On normal nights there was plenty of Mercy to go around so she would cut herself into five pieces, one for her father, one for her mother, one for her brother, one for herself and one for caroline, she would place it on her windowsill and wait for her to arrive and if she didn't she would have a stockpile of pieces of Mercy at her disposal.
MERCY
Mercy is in the presence of an all male boys choir and she begins to think about her life. It is Christmas and it is winter and she is alone.
Mercy turn around. Precious Mercy.
Mercy crosses her legs and tries to find her breathing. Tries to count her breaths like Patrick #1 tried to make her do so long ago when they meditated together.
The boys begin to sing Ave Maria. The eldest, the boy that is the tallest and that looks like his voice will drop soon, he will be kicked out soon, has the hardest solo and he nails it and its beautiful. It is cold outside and yet the boys are dressed in brown hooded robes.
Turn around, Mercy.
They stop Ave Maria. They begin Bach's Air. All of these little voices coming from these little boys, sounding like a symphany. Bach's Air.
Mercy thinks about the times her father would get into a fight with his parents and make them go to church.
It is well with my Soul, It is well with my soul, this song was written when this dude lost his whole family, his entire family died, so says her Internet research, and he reached out and wrote this song. What does it mean to reach out to God when your whole family is dead.
She reads about a story in the newspaper at work when she is bored of a family found bound and gagged in the position of prayer as she knew it: knees on the ground, hands pressed together towards the sky. What does it mean to be forced to reach out to god, when your family is dead all around you.
I was an orphan at 15 is what she liked to tell people, she was embarrassed of her father when she was a teenager, she didn't want anyone to know that he was a female impersonator, she would later say, but he was not a female impersonator, he would tell her, I am a drag performer, I perform some female entertainers but you don't get gigs by being like everybody else, child.
When Mercy was 15 she kissed a fat girl for the first time. It is not mean to say that she was fat because that is how she identified, and, although, she wasn't fat in Mercy's definition, she looked like a regular girl to her, but she said she was fat and so that is how she identified. Mercy kissed a fat girl when she was 15. If you were to have asked Mercy then if she was gay or straight or bisexual she would have said bisexual but not gay.
When Mercy's brother who killed himself had to fight people daily who called him gay but he wasn't.
What does all of this still mean.
Mercy kissed a girl at 15 and had sex with a girl at 17. She's an orphan at 15. She was not an orphan at 15. Her father was very much alive. Her father gave her lunch money that she used to buy joints in the bathrooms from girls that will later not like her as adults. This will happen many times to Mercy, girls in childhood who she is cool with hating her in adulthood. This is growing up.
Mercy's brother nearly killed a kid once in a fight over his sexuality. The kid lost conciousness. You'd be surprised how hard it is to actually choke someone to death he told her. You'd be surprised how hard it is. It's pretty hard. It's like shooting a gun. It's actually kinda hard. So, he wasn't dead. The kid. But Mercy's brother had to do this all the time, fight for his life over his sexuality. He wasn't gay. But he wasn't allowed to figure it out, either, even if he was. He wasn't allowed to properly experiment. He wasn't allowed a real teenage experience. He was called a faggot and that was it, and the rumors flew and he had to defend himself.
Mercy's brother nearly killed a lot of kids in fights. Mercy's brother broke arms and ribs and legs and noses. He whipped this shit out of them. He would take his tshirt and shoes off. He would fold them in a pile and put them to the side and whip the shit out of these kids. Until it was too much. Until it was too much.
Mercy turn around. Precious Mercy.
Mercy crosses her legs and tries to find her breathing. Tries to count her breaths like Patrick #1 tried to make her do so long ago when they meditated together.
The boys begin to sing Ave Maria. The eldest, the boy that is the tallest and that looks like his voice will drop soon, he will be kicked out soon, has the hardest solo and he nails it and its beautiful. It is cold outside and yet the boys are dressed in brown hooded robes.
Turn around, Mercy.
They stop Ave Maria. They begin Bach's Air. All of these little voices coming from these little boys, sounding like a symphany. Bach's Air.
Mercy thinks about the times her father would get into a fight with his parents and make them go to church.
It is well with my Soul, It is well with my soul, this song was written when this dude lost his whole family, his entire family died, so says her Internet research, and he reached out and wrote this song. What does it mean to reach out to God when your whole family is dead.
She reads about a story in the newspaper at work when she is bored of a family found bound and gagged in the position of prayer as she knew it: knees on the ground, hands pressed together towards the sky. What does it mean to be forced to reach out to god, when your family is dead all around you.
I was an orphan at 15 is what she liked to tell people, she was embarrassed of her father when she was a teenager, she didn't want anyone to know that he was a female impersonator, she would later say, but he was not a female impersonator, he would tell her, I am a drag performer, I perform some female entertainers but you don't get gigs by being like everybody else, child.
When Mercy was 15 she kissed a fat girl for the first time. It is not mean to say that she was fat because that is how she identified, and, although, she wasn't fat in Mercy's definition, she looked like a regular girl to her, but she said she was fat and so that is how she identified. Mercy kissed a fat girl when she was 15. If you were to have asked Mercy then if she was gay or straight or bisexual she would have said bisexual but not gay.
When Mercy's brother who killed himself had to fight people daily who called him gay but he wasn't.
What does all of this still mean.
Mercy kissed a girl at 15 and had sex with a girl at 17. She's an orphan at 15. She was not an orphan at 15. Her father was very much alive. Her father gave her lunch money that she used to buy joints in the bathrooms from girls that will later not like her as adults. This will happen many times to Mercy, girls in childhood who she is cool with hating her in adulthood. This is growing up.
Mercy's brother nearly killed a kid once in a fight over his sexuality. The kid lost conciousness. You'd be surprised how hard it is to actually choke someone to death he told her. You'd be surprised how hard it is. It's pretty hard. It's like shooting a gun. It's actually kinda hard. So, he wasn't dead. The kid. But Mercy's brother had to do this all the time, fight for his life over his sexuality. He wasn't gay. But he wasn't allowed to figure it out, either, even if he was. He wasn't allowed to properly experiment. He wasn't allowed a real teenage experience. He was called a faggot and that was it, and the rumors flew and he had to defend himself.
Mercy's brother nearly killed a lot of kids in fights. Mercy's brother broke arms and ribs and legs and noses. He whipped this shit out of them. He would take his tshirt and shoes off. He would fold them in a pile and put them to the side and whip the shit out of these kids. Until it was too much. Until it was too much.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
The History of Kidnapping
Kidnap.
To kidnap.
Mercy was kidnapped when she was three years old.
She remembers it in slow motion. The bicycle she abandoned, the pedals still spinning, all the shit stuck in her spokes exploding, there was a bicycle explosion in her memory the ground opened up and swallowed her, swallowed the bike and spit her back out in a new state in a new town far away from Mother who will die.
Patrick #1 asks her well, you were here, so I'm sure your happy now as an adult that your dad took you away from her, I'm sure right, I'm mean, she died anyway, at least you got along with your dad right.
Lovely Mercy bats her lashes sometimes and smiles. Sometimes she doesn't respond to his idiocy at all which turns him on which repulses her.
She has started to listen to sounds of traffic on mp3 to go to sleep at night.
Lovely Mercy says O Patrick, you have no idea what you're talking about.
Mother was supposed to be on a plane to get her, she told her on the phone, Mercy May I'm coming to get you, you sit tight, I'm coming to get you.
This was when Mercy was 7.
So 4 years later Mother is saying this. Saying don't you fret I'm coming to get you.
By then Mercy liked her new state which wasn't so new anymore and the memory of the slow motion pedals turning and wheel spokes exploding and a scene out of a TV show she didn't think of that memory anymore, Mercy liked Michigan and her friends and her father who was happy for once in his life and she was around her grandparents and I don't know I don't think you should come here, Ma, I don't think you should come here.
O, I'm on my way Mercy, I'll save you from him. He should be ashamed of himself. He should hang his head.
Mercy was kidnapped when she was three years old and according to the court she was legitimately kidnapped by her own father and taken over state line. No one came looking for her ever, and when Mother tried to, she died. On her way to rescue her and she drops dead. Headache. Anyerism.
To kidnap.
Mercy was kidnapped when she was three years old.
She remembers it in slow motion. The bicycle she abandoned, the pedals still spinning, all the shit stuck in her spokes exploding, there was a bicycle explosion in her memory the ground opened up and swallowed her, swallowed the bike and spit her back out in a new state in a new town far away from Mother who will die.
Patrick #1 asks her well, you were here, so I'm sure your happy now as an adult that your dad took you away from her, I'm sure right, I'm mean, she died anyway, at least you got along with your dad right.
Lovely Mercy bats her lashes sometimes and smiles. Sometimes she doesn't respond to his idiocy at all which turns him on which repulses her.
She has started to listen to sounds of traffic on mp3 to go to sleep at night.
Lovely Mercy says O Patrick, you have no idea what you're talking about.
Mother was supposed to be on a plane to get her, she told her on the phone, Mercy May I'm coming to get you, you sit tight, I'm coming to get you.
This was when Mercy was 7.
So 4 years later Mother is saying this. Saying don't you fret I'm coming to get you.
By then Mercy liked her new state which wasn't so new anymore and the memory of the slow motion pedals turning and wheel spokes exploding and a scene out of a TV show she didn't think of that memory anymore, Mercy liked Michigan and her friends and her father who was happy for once in his life and she was around her grandparents and I don't know I don't think you should come here, Ma, I don't think you should come here.
O, I'm on my way Mercy, I'll save you from him. He should be ashamed of himself. He should hang his head.
Mercy was kidnapped when she was three years old and according to the court she was legitimately kidnapped by her own father and taken over state line. No one came looking for her ever, and when Mother tried to, she died. On her way to rescue her and she drops dead. Headache. Anyerism.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
3 pages
Kidnapping. When in high school and taking naked photographs her boyfriend, Mercy thinks that it couldn't possibly get any worse, there's nothing worse than this. An abandoned bicycle. Spokes like eyetooth, plucked and rising like a cupcake. We are at the lake house, looking out of the wall of window, one big picture. I can see sailboats, but they are not there, it is winter. In my mind, Mercy thinks, I have taken a picture of every season out of this picture window, when the dogwood is in bloom, when it is shedding its paper skin, how we would write notes back and forth with pencil, bury them in the backyard. I remember you saying to me, remember when we are 20, we will come back and unbury these, this is our pact. Now you are dead and I am 20. I am even older than that. You are still very much dead.
Kidnapping. When the wheel's spokes are rotted out, how they no longer fit in gum like candy or root of mouth. Those photographs from when she was young. How she remembers what it felt like to be naked that day, on cool sheets, the weight. An abandoned bicycle. At the lake house, how high are the waves, the liferings are gone. The shadow in the bottom of the lake on the sand, the water so clear.
What horizon looks like, what do you think of it. An abandoned bicycle, how rust is and will be, like a cockroach or trilobite, ancient. I am 20 but I am older than 20, I am almost dead, but you are dead and at least we all know exactly where you are.
Kidnapping. Post-milk carton, pre-John Walsh and Code Adam and Amber Alert. An abandoned bicycle. The day we went miles and miles on bikes with people from church and I had a flat tire half way through and ruined the afternoon and cried and cried and all I remember really is the crying and wondering what would happen if everyone left me there to cry and die by myself on the cement of the 20 mile bike trail. These good kindly godly people leaving a child to die in the heat. Would someone have adopted me in the desolate little sidetown we were in front of? As an adult going back there, almost all the businesses are closed. I would have died in that town.
Kidnapping. We are at a resturant and we watch the skateboarders outside get harrassed by the owner. Does anyone ever think of me where I am from. An Abandoned bicycle, a calvary of abandoned bicycles all strolling along the bike trail with flat tires and hopeful riders. As an adult I ride the trail and my tires survive. I ride the trail to the town and back and I think about you the whole time.
I think about us and if things could have been different or not. Mercy knows probably not.
Kidnapping. When the wheel's spokes are rotted out, how they no longer fit in gum like candy or root of mouth. Those photographs from when she was young. How she remembers what it felt like to be naked that day, on cool sheets, the weight. An abandoned bicycle. At the lake house, how high are the waves, the liferings are gone. The shadow in the bottom of the lake on the sand, the water so clear.
What horizon looks like, what do you think of it. An abandoned bicycle, how rust is and will be, like a cockroach or trilobite, ancient. I am 20 but I am older than 20, I am almost dead, but you are dead and at least we all know exactly where you are.
Kidnapping. Post-milk carton, pre-John Walsh and Code Adam and Amber Alert. An abandoned bicycle. The day we went miles and miles on bikes with people from church and I had a flat tire half way through and ruined the afternoon and cried and cried and all I remember really is the crying and wondering what would happen if everyone left me there to cry and die by myself on the cement of the 20 mile bike trail. These good kindly godly people leaving a child to die in the heat. Would someone have adopted me in the desolate little sidetown we were in front of? As an adult going back there, almost all the businesses are closed. I would have died in that town.
Kidnapping. We are at a resturant and we watch the skateboarders outside get harrassed by the owner. Does anyone ever think of me where I am from. An Abandoned bicycle, a calvary of abandoned bicycles all strolling along the bike trail with flat tires and hopeful riders. As an adult I ride the trail and my tires survive. I ride the trail to the town and back and I think about you the whole time.
I think about us and if things could have been different or not. Mercy knows probably not.
MERCY
Mercy had a brother that committed suicide when she was 10 years old. He was called a faggot when he was not one. He was bullied and harassed and if it would have happened today, it would have been a hate crime, Mercy thinks. He ripped someone off some money, weed and soon after the rumors started flying. Brother was a faggot. Brother had fucked a cat with a candlestick. Brother had tried to suck everyone's cock, by everyone they meant all the boys he hung out with. The rumors spread so thin, so deep, like ice. He had to change schools five times. The rumor followed him, people knew his name by the rumor. O, that's your brother? Is it true that he stuck a candlestick up a cat's ass? Is it true that he's a faggot?
When Mercy was young, where Mercy was raised, was a desolate Midwest town. When she told her brother she was going to adopt an Asian baby, he said he would call it Slope-y. When her friend was dating many black guys, he called her the Black Guy's Girlfriend. These are the types of things that were ingrained.
Mercy's brother shot himself and in Mother's house there were no pictures of him and at Mercy's father's house there were so many from every stage of his life.
When Mercy was young, where Mercy was raised, was a desolate Midwest town. When she told her brother she was going to adopt an Asian baby, he said he would call it Slope-y. When her friend was dating many black guys, he called her the Black Guy's Girlfriend. These are the types of things that were ingrained.
Mercy's brother shot himself and in Mother's house there were no pictures of him and at Mercy's father's house there were so many from every stage of his life.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Mercy
Mercy's friend Caroline tells her over sandwiches in the park that she was raped by one of Mercy's dear friends at a party two years ago. Watch out for her, she says, watch out for her.
She believes Caroline, of course she does, but she thinks about consent and what it means to consent and how can a 5'2, 100 pd person rape anything or anyone espeically a 5'7 150 pd person.
That doesn't mean it didn't happen, Patrick #1 says, that doesn't mean it didn't happen. People can rape others, its really easy.
O really? Mercy says. It's really easy to rape someone?
O, you know what I mean, c'mon Mercy.
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Mercy keeps having dreams of water, of plunging into dark and menacing waters and plunging so far that she can't find the surface again, and the feeling of dropping into nothing, and sometimes her mother is there underwater with her, her mother is there and she can feel her and see her like a ghost or like a mermaid. She is there, not too close, as if up against glass, as if inside of an aquarium looking out, smushed and undefinitive. She is there and then she is not and Mercy always has an end to the plunge, she feels the pull that drives her back to the surface, but there is no surface, at once in summer water and under winter ice. She is under ice. Mercy under ice.
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Patrick #1 never called her his girlfriend until the very end of their relationship and even then Patrick #1 wouldn't actually say it. Now that they have been broken up for awhile and they are best friends with a weird relationship, Patrick #1 wants to reminice and remember and feel nostalgic for the fact that at one time they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Patrick #1 is the first real relationship Mercy ever had, her first real boyfriend, even if he wouldn't admit it. In high school boys just wanted blow jobs and she slept with her first girl when she 17 but if you would have asked her she would have told you she was straight or bi-sexual, she certainly wasn't anything else. In college she missed the boat in dating all together. Now, in her late twenties, she had Patrick #1 for 1 year and 5 months. 1 year and 5 months of Patrick #1 not admitting that Mercy was his girlfriend. 1 year and 5 months later, Patrick #1 tells her how great of a girlfriend she was. Patrick #1 has not had a girlfriend since Mercy. Because, Patrick #1 is gay gay gay her daddy says to her, that boy is gay as the day is long, child.
She believes Caroline, of course she does, but she thinks about consent and what it means to consent and how can a 5'2, 100 pd person rape anything or anyone espeically a 5'7 150 pd person.
That doesn't mean it didn't happen, Patrick #1 says, that doesn't mean it didn't happen. People can rape others, its really easy.
O really? Mercy says. It's really easy to rape someone?
O, you know what I mean, c'mon Mercy.
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Mercy keeps having dreams of water, of plunging into dark and menacing waters and plunging so far that she can't find the surface again, and the feeling of dropping into nothing, and sometimes her mother is there underwater with her, her mother is there and she can feel her and see her like a ghost or like a mermaid. She is there, not too close, as if up against glass, as if inside of an aquarium looking out, smushed and undefinitive. She is there and then she is not and Mercy always has an end to the plunge, she feels the pull that drives her back to the surface, but there is no surface, at once in summer water and under winter ice. She is under ice. Mercy under ice.
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Patrick #1 never called her his girlfriend until the very end of their relationship and even then Patrick #1 wouldn't actually say it. Now that they have been broken up for awhile and they are best friends with a weird relationship, Patrick #1 wants to reminice and remember and feel nostalgic for the fact that at one time they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Patrick #1 is the first real relationship Mercy ever had, her first real boyfriend, even if he wouldn't admit it. In high school boys just wanted blow jobs and she slept with her first girl when she 17 but if you would have asked her she would have told you she was straight or bi-sexual, she certainly wasn't anything else. In college she missed the boat in dating all together. Now, in her late twenties, she had Patrick #1 for 1 year and 5 months. 1 year and 5 months of Patrick #1 not admitting that Mercy was his girlfriend. 1 year and 5 months later, Patrick #1 tells her how great of a girlfriend she was. Patrick #1 has not had a girlfriend since Mercy. Because, Patrick #1 is gay gay gay her daddy says to her, that boy is gay as the day is long, child.
Mercy
Patrick #1 has his arm around in her in the booth, the red vinyl deeply cracked and rubbing her underthigh the wrong way, tearing her pantyhose, she could feel it. He is getting closer and closer as their friends begin to arrive, he is putting his arm down, he is feeling her shoulder. He puts his arm on her arm. He puts his arm on his side and puts his hand on her thigh. He puts his hand up her leg, under the hem of her skirt. Their friends do not notice. She pushes his arm away, and away. She pushes his arm away so many times she finally loses count after demanding of herself that she would keep track to tell him in the morning, o Patrick, don't you remember, you were practically trying to fist me in public.
He takes her hand and puts it on his crotch. Two of the girls that have themselves flanked with pink lipstick and around the waists of two of their best butch girlfriends notice and giggle behind pink-nailed hands. They whisper something but the music is loud and maybe Mercy is just thinking she is seeing that they are whispering about her exboyfriend trying to get her to give him a handjob at the bar in the middle of the evening.
She orders a round of shots for everyone, something that smells like liquourice and tastes like death.
She orders one more round but just for her and Patrick #1.
Patrick #1 kisses her neck, moves her hair away from her face, it is long and flowing, always so flowing, some girl last week told her that it reminded the girl of an American Apparel advertisement, how all the girls have long flowing wavy hair. Patrick #1 is kissing her and she feels herself blush.
Stop, she says. Stop right now. I don't care. I don't want you to. Stop.
It is the end of the night, the pink-lipped, pink-nailed girls are making out with their butch friends as the house lights are turned up and the bartender yells to get the hell out. She and Patrick #1 don't stop to say good-bye. They don't search for the rest of their friends. They check to make sure they have their phones and keys and wallets and thread fingers and leave.
Patrick #1 is holding her ass in his hand as she walks and she breaks from him. He runs behind her and grabs both of her asscheeks in his hands and she screams and laughs and runs. He catches her and lifts her onto the lawn next to them of some random neighborhood house. Her laughs fade into Stop, stop, right now, quit, get off me, stop, Patrick, stop Patrick stop Patrick stop Patrick Stop. He is holding her arms down with his knees.
Mercy kicks her legs up and hits his back. He yells in surprise more than pain. He falls off her, over into the lawn, laughing. Ow, he says. Ow, that really fucking hurt. You're a good shot.
Fuck you, Mercy says.
Fuck you, that's not funny.
Mercy grabs her wallet and phone from where they had fallen out of her pockets, pulls her hair up into a ponytail and starts running towards their houses. Mercy is running and can hear Patrick #1 yelling for her wait, Mercy, wait, I'm sorry Mercy, I'm sorry Mercy, come back here, I'm sorry.
He takes her hand and puts it on his crotch. Two of the girls that have themselves flanked with pink lipstick and around the waists of two of their best butch girlfriends notice and giggle behind pink-nailed hands. They whisper something but the music is loud and maybe Mercy is just thinking she is seeing that they are whispering about her exboyfriend trying to get her to give him a handjob at the bar in the middle of the evening.
She orders a round of shots for everyone, something that smells like liquourice and tastes like death.
She orders one more round but just for her and Patrick #1.
Patrick #1 kisses her neck, moves her hair away from her face, it is long and flowing, always so flowing, some girl last week told her that it reminded the girl of an American Apparel advertisement, how all the girls have long flowing wavy hair. Patrick #1 is kissing her and she feels herself blush.
Stop, she says. Stop right now. I don't care. I don't want you to. Stop.
It is the end of the night, the pink-lipped, pink-nailed girls are making out with their butch friends as the house lights are turned up and the bartender yells to get the hell out. She and Patrick #1 don't stop to say good-bye. They don't search for the rest of their friends. They check to make sure they have their phones and keys and wallets and thread fingers and leave.
Patrick #1 is holding her ass in his hand as she walks and she breaks from him. He runs behind her and grabs both of her asscheeks in his hands and she screams and laughs and runs. He catches her and lifts her onto the lawn next to them of some random neighborhood house. Her laughs fade into Stop, stop, right now, quit, get off me, stop, Patrick, stop Patrick stop Patrick stop Patrick Stop. He is holding her arms down with his knees.
Mercy kicks her legs up and hits his back. He yells in surprise more than pain. He falls off her, over into the lawn, laughing. Ow, he says. Ow, that really fucking hurt. You're a good shot.
Fuck you, Mercy says.
Fuck you, that's not funny.
Mercy grabs her wallet and phone from where they had fallen out of her pockets, pulls her hair up into a ponytail and starts running towards their houses. Mercy is running and can hear Patrick #1 yelling for her wait, Mercy, wait, I'm sorry Mercy, I'm sorry Mercy, come back here, I'm sorry.
Mercy
Six months before Mercy's father fell ill, he agreed to be a part of a Reality Television show with the rest of his friends in the Clamshell Cocktail Lounge because some of the younger girls were going on the road in a grassroots effort to celebrate diversity or some shit crows Anita Hard Cock, I don't have a clue why they're doin what they do but they're doin and we're gonna be on T.V. stars, we are. Every single one of the queens had an appearance, including Mercy's father, which lead to some notoriety. When People magazine interviewed all of the Queens and gave them a nice spread in an April/March edition, Mercy's father was quoted that nothing really had changed for him or the rest of the girls in town, nothing had really changed, fame hadn't touched them unless they left town, even in the City where they worked, its an Andy Warhol uptown/downtown thing, really, Mercy's father said, she wasn't Jessica H. Christ, yet. She was some other name that did not stick. Mercy's father had more of a reputation around changing her name than actually sticking to one, and all phases of his career fell on what name and acts he was doing at the time. That's what makes me famous, I'm a ka-meel-eee-on.
The reality TV show was only 10 episodes, one season, non-renewed, but quickly a gay cult following, the Internet boosted them, the younger girls now can travel, get calls for appearances, the older ones that are funny or that are still beautiful or that can actually perform are also whisked away to islands in the middle of winter to work at festivals and gatherings of queers who love them. Mercy's father fell in the middle, not too young, not too old, gone sometimes but not in high demand.
He liked it that way. They were comfortable in their small town and he was comfortable with his life in the city.
The reality TV show was only 10 episodes, one season, non-renewed, but quickly a gay cult following, the Internet boosted them, the younger girls now can travel, get calls for appearances, the older ones that are funny or that are still beautiful or that can actually perform are also whisked away to islands in the middle of winter to work at festivals and gatherings of queers who love them. Mercy's father fell in the middle, not too young, not too old, gone sometimes but not in high demand.
He liked it that way. They were comfortable in their small town and he was comfortable with his life in the city.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Mercy
Mercy thinks about the person that has left her. The person that has simply walked right out the door. Mercy thinks about the person that she is now in love with, the person that last night said no. Mercy thinks about all the times she has been told no in her life, which is not many. When she was young someone told Mercy, told her that all she had was a pretty face, lose 15 pounds, 15 pounds was always the magic number. But, really, you don't have to worry about that, you're a girl, girls always get laid.
Mercy thinks about the first time she hung out with the person she is in love with. She remembers that the table was weirdly divided by what she said out loud to this person "its so funny, all the boys on one side and all the girls on the other" and the person said I'm not a boy, making the demarcation that struck Mercy dumb. She had nothing to say. Don't just run off at the mouth, don't just say things, Mercy, don't just say things.
The person she is in love is not in love with her and it makes her sad, Mercy is sad, why aren't you in love with me the way I am in love with you?
Mercy asks herself in the mirror. She tries on lipstick. If she is in front of the mirror, she is putting on makeup.
Mercy is at a dance party, it is late at night, this person keeps dancing up against her body, keeps rubbing close like a stitch, keeps almost touching lips, keeps almost touching lips.
There was a time that this person would kiss Mercy whenever she wanted this person to, in the middle of a bar, in the middle of a party, it didn't matter, kiss me Mercy, kiss me Mercy. Everyone always wanted to kiss Mercy at one time in her life.
This person no longer wants to kiss Mercy, this person says they are too good of friends, this person says that they just can't do that anymore, this person can't risk the friendship, because it won't just be kissing, it won't just be kissing, it will be more, you know it will be more, Mercy, you know, look at me, say something, you know it will be more, it will be more than we want it to be, we will fuck and then it will get weird and then you won't talk to me or something and whatever, don't make this weird, no, please don't make this weird.
Mercy texts Patrick #1 to silence.
Mercy texts Patrick #2 to silence.
Sometimes Mercy texts her daddy, even though her daddy's laying in the hospital bed in the dining room. Sometimes Mercy texts her daddy just to her her daddy's ringtone "You're waaay to beauuuutiful girllllss..."
Mercy thinks about the first time she hung out with the person she is in love with. She remembers that the table was weirdly divided by what she said out loud to this person "its so funny, all the boys on one side and all the girls on the other" and the person said I'm not a boy, making the demarcation that struck Mercy dumb. She had nothing to say. Don't just run off at the mouth, don't just say things, Mercy, don't just say things.
The person she is in love is not in love with her and it makes her sad, Mercy is sad, why aren't you in love with me the way I am in love with you?
Mercy asks herself in the mirror. She tries on lipstick. If she is in front of the mirror, she is putting on makeup.
Mercy is at a dance party, it is late at night, this person keeps dancing up against her body, keeps rubbing close like a stitch, keeps almost touching lips, keeps almost touching lips.
There was a time that this person would kiss Mercy whenever she wanted this person to, in the middle of a bar, in the middle of a party, it didn't matter, kiss me Mercy, kiss me Mercy. Everyone always wanted to kiss Mercy at one time in her life.
This person no longer wants to kiss Mercy, this person says they are too good of friends, this person says that they just can't do that anymore, this person can't risk the friendship, because it won't just be kissing, it won't just be kissing, it will be more, you know it will be more, Mercy, you know, look at me, say something, you know it will be more, it will be more than we want it to be, we will fuck and then it will get weird and then you won't talk to me or something and whatever, don't make this weird, no, please don't make this weird.
Mercy texts Patrick #1 to silence.
Mercy texts Patrick #2 to silence.
Sometimes Mercy texts her daddy, even though her daddy's laying in the hospital bed in the dining room. Sometimes Mercy texts her daddy just to her her daddy's ringtone "You're waaay to beauuuutiful girllllss..."
Friday, September 28, 2012
Mercy (Ether) (Impatient)
Call a physician.
Mercy says that she is going to kill herself and all of the Queens say baby, you are just hungover, you are just so hungover, baby don't be talking all that shit about dying, you don't know nothing about dying. How selfish can you be, talkin all this shit about dyin, when yr daddy is dying, you know that shit is true, yr daddy is on his death bed and all you is talkin about is dying. I can't believe it.
Mercy watches a War Against Drugs commercial that talks about meth and shows a girl that looks like her cutting her wrists because the meth voices told her to and so the meth voices told her to and
her mom is like LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, and its like, jesus, right, look at what she's done, she's the crazy one, not me, Mercy thinks, this girl is nuts, some voice told her to cut her wrists and run them under hot water because she smokes meth.
Yes, I guess so, Mercy reads in the paper a dude out in the country who ate his baby's face off because voices were telling him to do so because of meth.
What side of the brain does meth work, Mercy asks Anita Hard Cock when Anita is over dropping off the laundry. Anita and Hillary Clitton trade off doing the linens so Mercy doesn't have to.
Honey, who knows with that stuff, one second yr alright and the next second yr a monster. That shit'll make you crazy.
Anita Hard Cock had a boyfriend who was on Teena, she called it, Teena was his first girlfriend, his only girlfriend, his only love, Anita said, and she locked Anita in a room one night in this basement of his house and tied her up and hit her with a bullwhip so many times she passed out.
Did that really happen to you? Mercy asked, embarrassingly quickly, as if she was skeptical of the entire story.
No, I just made it up for you, what do you think, fucking a.
Apply Artificial Respiration
Patrick #2 is Red Cross trained and he wanted to practice on Mercy, she is remembering their last night together before he left for Alaska. Let me show how to breathe into a person properly, he said. He carried protective mouth gear in his wallet, you just never know, he says to Mercy, you just never know. It's his favorite saying you just never know, Mercy says, you just never ever know when you'll need to protect your heart.
When Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, she tried to apply mouth-to-mouth, she tried to apply to apply mouth-to-mouth. Nothing worked, nothing worked.
Nothing ever works the way I want it to Mercy thinks daily.
Also Hot Applications
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What does it mean to apply heat.
Where do you apply heat.
When told to apply heat, how can you, how can you.
Apply heat, how can you apply heat.
We trade text messages back and forth and we say to each other I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF because we are hungover, because we are once again for the 10th day in a row hungover. I understand why alcoholics kill themselves, I understand why coke addicts kill themselves, I have been up for a few days, I have been up for a few weeks, I understand now why in this weird clarity, why people kill themselves, I don't have many pills left, I am sick and I am hungover, o, the despair, o, the despair, the suffering. We suffer, don't we?
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What and where and how.
How do you apply heat. Why and what.
An application as request, an effort, sustained, mediated.
Massage Extremities
Patrick #2, when getting medical training, when getting CPR training, when getting Red Cross training, when getting all the training to live alone in Alaska, was first a massage therapist, was first a massage therapist.
If Patient's Face is Pale
It is when you lose all the color in your face that you become paranoid that people believe that you are not what you seem. The color in your face is indicative to any unsupported principles you may feel that make you inferior. Sometimes I get really jealous when I know that you don't actually want to hang out with me, sometimes I get really jealous when you hang out with other people.
Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy at a bar where the bartenders are too smug and the barstools too low. Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy and Mercy is not listening, Mercy is nodding off mostly because she is tired and her father hasn't been sleeping well at night, waking up in night terrors and pulling all of the tubes from his arms.
Patrick #1 says "Look, I'm just really jealous of you babe. I want you all to myself. When you hang out with other people it makes me feel like you don't love me anymore. Do you love me babe? You do, don't you, everything I do is perfect and so being with you means its perfect. Don't you agree, babe?"
Mercy's face is pale when she sees herself in the partition reflection of their booth. Her long dark hair is full and bouncy and won't stay behind her ears even though she pushes it back, push pushes it back, out of the way. She looks long in the mirror. She looks uneven. Her eyes are at half-mast. The straps of her dress won't stay up.
Mercy, are you fucking listening? Jesus, its like talking to a brick wall sometimes. I'm going outside to have a smoke, do you want to join me or are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some dumb idiot
What did you say, Mercy asks? What did you just say.
I said, are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some riot act or are you gonna come with me
Mercy swore swore he said dumb idiot. She swore up and down.
Why would I call you a dumb idiot? Patrick #1 asks when she confronts him once outside. Look baby if I was gonna call you a name, it'd be more hurtful than that.
Lower The Head
Mercy father has ordered that a priest come and serve his last rites every Friday and then he and his queen girlfriends can have fish sandwiches together. They all gather in black professional skirt suits that really do look like they came out of the real Hilary Clinton's wardrobe and long black wigs of all shades and styles, and hats that looked like an funeral on Easter. They would sit politely in their purples and deep blues and browns and blacks and once the priest was done Amber Wavves, normally the only one not crying by the end, would thank the priest and pay him and see him out of the door.
Mercy's father would always keep his eyes shut and mouth closed until the priest had left as a ritual, more than anything else. Mercy's father told her that he kept his eyes closed in a type of prayer. When he opened his eyes, once Amber would come back in the room and the other queens would hustle to the bathroom to change clothes to eat dinner in, he said that it would be bittersweet, especially as he got sicker. He wanted to die in his funeral garbage garb, as the Priest was doing the last rite, which technically didn't count he'd tell Amber every week, this technically doesn't count, he needs to die sooner than later for this to count and Amber would hush him and kiss his bald head. We got to thinking that the Priest really liked coming and was kind of sad when Mercy's dad didn't die. It would have been a miracle to the priest if, in the third-to-last rites, his eyes didn't open. Then it would have been the last last rites, and it would have worked, it would have been fine, it would have been for real last rites.
Mercy says that she is going to kill herself and all of the Queens say baby, you are just hungover, you are just so hungover, baby don't be talking all that shit about dying, you don't know nothing about dying. How selfish can you be, talkin all this shit about dyin, when yr daddy is dying, you know that shit is true, yr daddy is on his death bed and all you is talkin about is dying. I can't believe it.
Mercy watches a War Against Drugs commercial that talks about meth and shows a girl that looks like her cutting her wrists because the meth voices told her to and so the meth voices told her to and
her mom is like LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, and its like, jesus, right, look at what she's done, she's the crazy one, not me, Mercy thinks, this girl is nuts, some voice told her to cut her wrists and run them under hot water because she smokes meth.
Yes, I guess so, Mercy reads in the paper a dude out in the country who ate his baby's face off because voices were telling him to do so because of meth.
What side of the brain does meth work, Mercy asks Anita Hard Cock when Anita is over dropping off the laundry. Anita and Hillary Clitton trade off doing the linens so Mercy doesn't have to.
Honey, who knows with that stuff, one second yr alright and the next second yr a monster. That shit'll make you crazy.
Anita Hard Cock had a boyfriend who was on Teena, she called it, Teena was his first girlfriend, his only girlfriend, his only love, Anita said, and she locked Anita in a room one night in this basement of his house and tied her up and hit her with a bullwhip so many times she passed out.
Did that really happen to you? Mercy asked, embarrassingly quickly, as if she was skeptical of the entire story.
No, I just made it up for you, what do you think, fucking a.
Apply Artificial Respiration
Patrick #2 is Red Cross trained and he wanted to practice on Mercy, she is remembering their last night together before he left for Alaska. Let me show how to breathe into a person properly, he said. He carried protective mouth gear in his wallet, you just never know, he says to Mercy, you just never know. It's his favorite saying you just never know, Mercy says, you just never ever know when you'll need to protect your heart.
When Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, she tried to apply mouth-to-mouth, she tried to apply to apply mouth-to-mouth. Nothing worked, nothing worked.
Nothing ever works the way I want it to Mercy thinks daily.
Also Hot Applications
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What does it mean to apply heat.
Where do you apply heat.
When told to apply heat, how can you, how can you.
Apply heat, how can you apply heat.
We trade text messages back and forth and we say to each other I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF because we are hungover, because we are once again for the 10th day in a row hungover. I understand why alcoholics kill themselves, I understand why coke addicts kill themselves, I have been up for a few days, I have been up for a few weeks, I understand now why in this weird clarity, why people kill themselves, I don't have many pills left, I am sick and I am hungover, o, the despair, o, the despair, the suffering. We suffer, don't we?
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What and where and how.
How do you apply heat. Why and what.
An application as request, an effort, sustained, mediated.
Massage Extremities
Patrick #2, when getting medical training, when getting CPR training, when getting Red Cross training, when getting all the training to live alone in Alaska, was first a massage therapist, was first a massage therapist.
If Patient's Face is Pale
It is when you lose all the color in your face that you become paranoid that people believe that you are not what you seem. The color in your face is indicative to any unsupported principles you may feel that make you inferior. Sometimes I get really jealous when I know that you don't actually want to hang out with me, sometimes I get really jealous when you hang out with other people.
Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy at a bar where the bartenders are too smug and the barstools too low. Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy and Mercy is not listening, Mercy is nodding off mostly because she is tired and her father hasn't been sleeping well at night, waking up in night terrors and pulling all of the tubes from his arms.
Patrick #1 says "Look, I'm just really jealous of you babe. I want you all to myself. When you hang out with other people it makes me feel like you don't love me anymore. Do you love me babe? You do, don't you, everything I do is perfect and so being with you means its perfect. Don't you agree, babe?"
Mercy's face is pale when she sees herself in the partition reflection of their booth. Her long dark hair is full and bouncy and won't stay behind her ears even though she pushes it back, push pushes it back, out of the way. She looks long in the mirror. She looks uneven. Her eyes are at half-mast. The straps of her dress won't stay up.
Mercy, are you fucking listening? Jesus, its like talking to a brick wall sometimes. I'm going outside to have a smoke, do you want to join me or are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some dumb idiot
What did you say, Mercy asks? What did you just say.
I said, are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some riot act or are you gonna come with me
Mercy swore swore he said dumb idiot. She swore up and down.
Why would I call you a dumb idiot? Patrick #1 asks when she confronts him once outside. Look baby if I was gonna call you a name, it'd be more hurtful than that.
Lower The Head
Mercy father has ordered that a priest come and serve his last rites every Friday and then he and his queen girlfriends can have fish sandwiches together. They all gather in black professional skirt suits that really do look like they came out of the real Hilary Clinton's wardrobe and long black wigs of all shades and styles, and hats that looked like an funeral on Easter. They would sit politely in their purples and deep blues and browns and blacks and once the priest was done Amber Wavves, normally the only one not crying by the end, would thank the priest and pay him and see him out of the door.
Mercy's father would always keep his eyes shut and mouth closed until the priest had left as a ritual, more than anything else. Mercy's father told her that he kept his eyes closed in a type of prayer. When he opened his eyes, once Amber would come back in the room and the other queens would hustle to the bathroom to change clothes to eat dinner in, he said that it would be bittersweet, especially as he got sicker. He wanted to die in his funeral garbage garb, as the Priest was doing the last rite, which technically didn't count he'd tell Amber every week, this technically doesn't count, he needs to die sooner than later for this to count and Amber would hush him and kiss his bald head. We got to thinking that the Priest really liked coming and was kind of sad when Mercy's dad didn't die. It would have been a miracle to the priest if, in the third-to-last rites, his eyes didn't open. Then it would have been the last last rites, and it would have worked, it would have been fine, it would have been for real last rites.
Mercy (Ether) (Narrative Trajectory)
Call a physician, apply artificial respiration, also hot applications, massage extremities, if patients face is pale, lower head.
DAY #1
The day of poison. I am infected by this, the day of poison. My head is lulling, I am lulled. I cannot fall asleep fast enough, it is morning, it is evening, the third day, the seventh day. I am lulled and then I am not. Things are going faster then fast then stop. The ravens and the crows are not the same, we can tell the difference between them by the build of their bodies, how they carry themselves, the build of their caws, they are outside the window one of each and looking for things to eat. There is nothing. Cars drive by and they simply hop out of the way and they do not run fast or are very concerned. Listen, you can hear it. The treatment for poison is folded in five directions, you ask which way is south as if I understand internally somehow a compass is needed. If you were to drop me in the middle of the mountains, I would not be able to find my way home, I would die. I was with this person once that parked outside of the lecture hall we were in together for a lecture on something or other and they could not find their car, we were driving all around trying to find their car, and we figured out they had parked very close, very close, their father was dying to in Tuscaloosa, their father lived in the outskirts of where we were, their father had loaned them a car, they were driving it and now they could not find it but we found it next to the lecture hall, this internal sense of direction.
No internal sense of direction. Where is south and I do not know.
DAY #2
My head is lulling but I have stopped vomiting. You are out to lunch with my cousin and I ask you to call me back later and you don't. Now we are sitting next to each other on my couch and I am feeling terrible still. The poison of the Devil's Milk. I fold the treatment five times and five different directions and I wear it on my person. I wear it close to my bosom. I wear it closer, closer.
DAY #3
There is a book called something by Goethe and it lays under my mattresses and I am scared because I dream in the quotes and I dream in the quotes from the book by Goethe and I haven't ever read it before so I stick it far far far underneath my bed where I cannot see it but in my dreams I have dreams about it where is the book where is it in a house in my dreams it is on the bedside table and when asked when asked what is on your bedside table I say Goethe but I don't have any idea and it looked like some Greek shit, some Greek shit in a play form in a play, it is a Greek shit play, I am jealous of everyone that knows more than me about Greek mythology and that is everyone so I am jealous of everyone, the curriculum changed before we got to Greek mythology. Folded five ways and under my bed with Goethe, next to a powder that is magical next a powder that is magic with crushed scorpions, a healing Hoo-Doo powder to make protect you, a healing powder. Goethe and a large line of magic dust and folded five ways instructions on how to alleviate poison.
DAY #4
Five directions and all points South and now its on my body and I am wearing it on my body for days and I can't understand which points on the body I am shooting for, a quite literal shoot, this shooting for, five directions and all points on my body and I went to sleep and had no dreams because I do not dream and I tell people that and once a girl said she couldn't date me because I do not dream, she said that she had to be with a dreamer, she had to be with someone who dreams. The other day someone came back into my life that shouldn't have and now I am talking with them all the time, even in my dreams, I am talking with them all the time. I am in my body and the poison treatment is also in my body. I took it off of my body and chewed it so I could eat it so it would be in my body so I could carry it around with me always. Always in my body the poison treatment that when I am lulling and vomiting I know why.
DAY #5
Again, in my body, on my body.
DAY #6
This treatment lives inside of my clothes, inside of my body, is constantly falling out of my chest, is constantly falling out of everywhere, I live with it in and outside. Exception: the day it was under my bed, under my bed, the day it was with Goethe and the crushed scorpion magic dust of protection, they were all together, these five points south, these five directions of fold. Call a physician. Apply artifical respiration. Hot applications. Massage extremities. Paleface (mob). Lower head. Pray.
DAY #1
The day of poison. I am infected by this, the day of poison. My head is lulling, I am lulled. I cannot fall asleep fast enough, it is morning, it is evening, the third day, the seventh day. I am lulled and then I am not. Things are going faster then fast then stop. The ravens and the crows are not the same, we can tell the difference between them by the build of their bodies, how they carry themselves, the build of their caws, they are outside the window one of each and looking for things to eat. There is nothing. Cars drive by and they simply hop out of the way and they do not run fast or are very concerned. Listen, you can hear it. The treatment for poison is folded in five directions, you ask which way is south as if I understand internally somehow a compass is needed. If you were to drop me in the middle of the mountains, I would not be able to find my way home, I would die. I was with this person once that parked outside of the lecture hall we were in together for a lecture on something or other and they could not find their car, we were driving all around trying to find their car, and we figured out they had parked very close, very close, their father was dying to in Tuscaloosa, their father lived in the outskirts of where we were, their father had loaned them a car, they were driving it and now they could not find it but we found it next to the lecture hall, this internal sense of direction.
No internal sense of direction. Where is south and I do not know.
DAY #2
My head is lulling but I have stopped vomiting. You are out to lunch with my cousin and I ask you to call me back later and you don't. Now we are sitting next to each other on my couch and I am feeling terrible still. The poison of the Devil's Milk. I fold the treatment five times and five different directions and I wear it on my person. I wear it close to my bosom. I wear it closer, closer.
DAY #3
There is a book called something by Goethe and it lays under my mattresses and I am scared because I dream in the quotes and I dream in the quotes from the book by Goethe and I haven't ever read it before so I stick it far far far underneath my bed where I cannot see it but in my dreams I have dreams about it where is the book where is it in a house in my dreams it is on the bedside table and when asked when asked what is on your bedside table I say Goethe but I don't have any idea and it looked like some Greek shit, some Greek shit in a play form in a play, it is a Greek shit play, I am jealous of everyone that knows more than me about Greek mythology and that is everyone so I am jealous of everyone, the curriculum changed before we got to Greek mythology. Folded five ways and under my bed with Goethe, next to a powder that is magical next a powder that is magic with crushed scorpions, a healing Hoo-Doo powder to make protect you, a healing powder. Goethe and a large line of magic dust and folded five ways instructions on how to alleviate poison.
DAY #4
Five directions and all points South and now its on my body and I am wearing it on my body for days and I can't understand which points on the body I am shooting for, a quite literal shoot, this shooting for, five directions and all points on my body and I went to sleep and had no dreams because I do not dream and I tell people that and once a girl said she couldn't date me because I do not dream, she said that she had to be with a dreamer, she had to be with someone who dreams. The other day someone came back into my life that shouldn't have and now I am talking with them all the time, even in my dreams, I am talking with them all the time. I am in my body and the poison treatment is also in my body. I took it off of my body and chewed it so I could eat it so it would be in my body so I could carry it around with me always. Always in my body the poison treatment that when I am lulling and vomiting I know why.
DAY #5
Again, in my body, on my body.
DAY #6
This treatment lives inside of my clothes, inside of my body, is constantly falling out of my chest, is constantly falling out of everywhere, I live with it in and outside. Exception: the day it was under my bed, under my bed, the day it was with Goethe and the crushed scorpion magic dust of protection, they were all together, these five points south, these five directions of fold. Call a physician. Apply artifical respiration. Hot applications. Massage extremities. Paleface (mob). Lower head. Pray.
Mercy (Ether)
Ether (call a physician, apply artificial respiration, also hot applications, massage extremities, if patients face is pale, lower head)
Mercy is drunk and texting Patrick #2 in Alaska, where he does not have cell phone service, where he hasn't had cell phone service in months. I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF, it says. In 3 months. I am going to off myself. in three months. This is the trajectory of the messages. Two weeks later, when is off the mountain and checking is voicemail messages and checking his email messages at the library, he will get a flood of texts that say these things but out of order I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF in three months I am going to off myself I am going to off myself I am going to off myself. In 3 months. In 3 months. I'M GOING TO KIL I am goi 3 mon, they are getting cut off, they come in a wave and then are incomplete.
What does Patrick #2 do with this information? What does Patrick #2 do now two weeks later. She is still writing letters, he is getting one or two every other day, when he picks up his mail he has so many letters from Mercy. Patrick #2 is sad but does nothing and does not respond. Patrick #2 does not respond even through letter, its like Mercy had not sent those texts in the first place.
Mercy does not really want to die. She is drunk and eating a tuna fish sandwich from 7-11, she is eating Cool Ranch Doritios, she is drinking orange mango juice and watching Chasing Amy, a film that is offensive, now that she really watches it with adult eyes, its actually really offensive. Mercy is crying but she does not know it. She drunk and texting Patrick #2 says I'm going to kill myself and she doesn't mean it. She is tired of watching Jessica H. Christ die. She is tired of watching herself wither away. Death doesn't mean as much now that everyone is dead she thinks to herself but that thought doesn't make sense, she misses her father already and he is not even gone yet. Patrick #2, why tell Patrick #2 she is going to kill herself, what can he do, is it because he is so far away, yes, its because he can't do anything, or won't do anything.
She tried to pull this shit on Patrick #1 once and he called the police. She was a few cities away and he found the area code and called the police and the police showed up to her apartment where she was in her underwear and eating a taco bell burrito with sour cream that was all over her tank top and she had to convince them that she was fine, she was fine, she was fine. Don't ever tell Patrick #1 anything, he will call the police.
Patrick #2 won't call the police, he won't even get the texts in real time.
Patrick, I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF.
Patrick, IN THREE DAYS.
Not really, though. Mercy is going to eat the tuna sandwich and change her dad's catheter and wig and bathe him with a sponge and wash his testicles because she has to, she was lectured by the caregiver from the hospital, I know its uncomfortable but you have to wash underneath everywhere to prevent all kinds of things like sores and disease. Wash her dad's balls and comb all of his wigs that are now all on face stands surrounding his bed like gallery scene in the Return to Oz film where the Ozma has all of her heads and faces on display. But these styrofoam heads are faceless, they simply hold shape to the various hair of her father's her father's various identities. You can't just keep the hair in a box, it won't hold, it'll look like absolute garbage, her father told her.
Mercy is drunk and texting Patrick #2 in Alaska, where he does not have cell phone service, where he hasn't had cell phone service in months. I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF, it says. In 3 months. I am going to off myself. in three months. This is the trajectory of the messages. Two weeks later, when is off the mountain and checking is voicemail messages and checking his email messages at the library, he will get a flood of texts that say these things but out of order I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF in three months I am going to off myself I am going to off myself I am going to off myself. In 3 months. In 3 months. I'M GOING TO KIL I am goi 3 mon, they are getting cut off, they come in a wave and then are incomplete.
What does Patrick #2 do with this information? What does Patrick #2 do now two weeks later. She is still writing letters, he is getting one or two every other day, when he picks up his mail he has so many letters from Mercy. Patrick #2 is sad but does nothing and does not respond. Patrick #2 does not respond even through letter, its like Mercy had not sent those texts in the first place.
Mercy does not really want to die. She is drunk and eating a tuna fish sandwich from 7-11, she is eating Cool Ranch Doritios, she is drinking orange mango juice and watching Chasing Amy, a film that is offensive, now that she really watches it with adult eyes, its actually really offensive. Mercy is crying but she does not know it. She drunk and texting Patrick #2 says I'm going to kill myself and she doesn't mean it. She is tired of watching Jessica H. Christ die. She is tired of watching herself wither away. Death doesn't mean as much now that everyone is dead she thinks to herself but that thought doesn't make sense, she misses her father already and he is not even gone yet. Patrick #2, why tell Patrick #2 she is going to kill herself, what can he do, is it because he is so far away, yes, its because he can't do anything, or won't do anything.
She tried to pull this shit on Patrick #1 once and he called the police. She was a few cities away and he found the area code and called the police and the police showed up to her apartment where she was in her underwear and eating a taco bell burrito with sour cream that was all over her tank top and she had to convince them that she was fine, she was fine, she was fine. Don't ever tell Patrick #1 anything, he will call the police.
Patrick #2 won't call the police, he won't even get the texts in real time.
Patrick, I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF.
Patrick, IN THREE DAYS.
Not really, though. Mercy is going to eat the tuna sandwich and change her dad's catheter and wig and bathe him with a sponge and wash his testicles because she has to, she was lectured by the caregiver from the hospital, I know its uncomfortable but you have to wash underneath everywhere to prevent all kinds of things like sores and disease. Wash her dad's balls and comb all of his wigs that are now all on face stands surrounding his bed like gallery scene in the Return to Oz film where the Ozma has all of her heads and faces on display. But these styrofoam heads are faceless, they simply hold shape to the various hair of her father's her father's various identities. You can't just keep the hair in a box, it won't hold, it'll look like absolute garbage, her father told her.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Mercy
Mercy lights her bangs on fire on purpose one morning just because she wants to smell what burnt hair smells like. Her father has been breathing erratically for days, her father is going to die any minute.
Mercy is remembering one Christmas Eve when her father made her go to a candle light service at midnight at a local church. He, in fact, had to work a can drive for a local bar in full drag that night and would be off at 1030, enough to time to put on a tie and put Mercy in a dress and go to the church for the service. It was disappointing to Mercy, it was nothing at all like what she thought it would be. She thought the entire sanctuary would be dark and the service would take place like a funeral pyre, everything lit from the floor to the ceiling, welcoming the Christ child into the world from his teenage mother's womb. But instead the entire service was under the hot fluorescent lights and for the last ten minutes of the service they turned the house lights down and passed out big chunky candles for everyone to light their very tiny birthday-like candles on. Mercy got her hair too close to the chunky candle. Mercy's bangs went up in smoke. Two old ladies behind Mercy hit Mercy on the head with their hymnals during O Come O Come Emmanuel.
When Mercy got home, her father gave her a bag of ice and put her in his lap and they cuddled in front of the television and he chuckled at the old ladies swatting her poor little head. They turned out all the lights and watched TV in front of the christmas tree and its lights and Mercy thinks to herself today, that was the most perfect Christmas ever. No other Christmas had ever been that good.
She wants to smell the smell of burnt hair. She doesn't remember exactly what it smells like. She takes the kitchen torch she uses to light the stove and click click clicks the lighter until it lights slowly and softly and woosh takes her bangs out. She watches her bangs burn fast, all the way to her scalp, until she dunks her head into the full sink below her.
Mercy is remembering one Christmas Eve when her father made her go to a candle light service at midnight at a local church. He, in fact, had to work a can drive for a local bar in full drag that night and would be off at 1030, enough to time to put on a tie and put Mercy in a dress and go to the church for the service. It was disappointing to Mercy, it was nothing at all like what she thought it would be. She thought the entire sanctuary would be dark and the service would take place like a funeral pyre, everything lit from the floor to the ceiling, welcoming the Christ child into the world from his teenage mother's womb. But instead the entire service was under the hot fluorescent lights and for the last ten minutes of the service they turned the house lights down and passed out big chunky candles for everyone to light their very tiny birthday-like candles on. Mercy got her hair too close to the chunky candle. Mercy's bangs went up in smoke. Two old ladies behind Mercy hit Mercy on the head with their hymnals during O Come O Come Emmanuel.
When Mercy got home, her father gave her a bag of ice and put her in his lap and they cuddled in front of the television and he chuckled at the old ladies swatting her poor little head. They turned out all the lights and watched TV in front of the christmas tree and its lights and Mercy thinks to herself today, that was the most perfect Christmas ever. No other Christmas had ever been that good.
She wants to smell the smell of burnt hair. She doesn't remember exactly what it smells like. She takes the kitchen torch she uses to light the stove and click click clicks the lighter until it lights slowly and softly and woosh takes her bangs out. She watches her bangs burn fast, all the way to her scalp, until she dunks her head into the full sink below her.
Mercy
Patrick #1 has hit a dog and is calling Mercy. Mercy is helping her father into tight argyle stockings with the rip in the knee the never gets bigger. Mercy is helping her father into a light green wig that is curled on the end but flipped like an alien Marilyn Monroe. Mercy is helping her father into a wedding dress that he got at Tender Love Consignment Shop to wear tonight on stage, the last night he would be able perform. He has six different costume changes. He has 11 different people helping him. Tonight is his last night on stage at the ClamShell Cocktail Lounge. Tonight he will say good bye to his drag family of thirty years and retire his girl job in the City, retire his girl job as he had retired his boy job long ago. This was my dream he would tell Mercy, this was my dream, to retire from my boy job to be able to do my girl job full time, this was my dream, and now its gone.
Patrick #1 says into the voice mail frantically Mercy, where the hell are you, Mercy how could you not be here for me right now, this dog is dead Mercy, dead, the dog is dog, I killed a dog Mercy.
Mercy's father is all glitter and sparkle. Mercy's father is all diamonds. Mercy's father has his signature look, has his Marilyn Monroe look, has his Jackie O look, has his Liza look, has his Mardi Gras look, has his "smalltown gay bar in Michigan" look, has his Goldie Hawn Laugh-In look, has his Cher from Sonny and Cher look, has his "how Britney Spears will look like 60 years from now" look. When Mercy was a teenager, her father's drag closet was just one row of hangers and one shelf in his main closet in his room. Now her father's drag closet is one of the guest rooms converted with two walk-in closets on either end and built in shelves on the walls for bags, shoes, and accessories.
Mercy's father's bag collection puts hers to shame--designers from all walks of life. Mercy's father was big in the in-crowd party scene at one time in the City, which is where her met her mother initially, a country girl away for the weekend to check out an art college. A perfect disguise Mercy thought over and again in her life, but Mercy's father had always said the love and admiration was real between he and her mother, that he respected her as an artist, the he absolutely loved her work and that is what made him fall in love with her. They had Mercy out of Mercy. They had Mercy out of a true compassion for each other.
Patrick #1 is frantic into the phone, calling 1, 10, 15, 25 times. Where are you, I need you, this dog is dead, what do I do.
I called 911, was that what was I was supposed to do, oh God.
I can't believe you aren't answering the phone, this is important, this dog is dead, I'm out in the middle of nowhere and its late and oh God where are the police
MERRRRRCCCCYY WHAT THE FUCK WHERE ARE YOU JESUS CHRIST the cops are here Mercy the cops are here
Mercy's father steps out of the rented stretch Cadillac and pushes herself up on to the pink sparkling walking stick they will use all night, a walking stick with different emblems and colors to match every outfit. Mercy's father is lucky they don't have to have an oxygen mask on or be in a wheelchair. Tonight will be one of the last nights that they won't be without oxygen or a wheelchair. But, Mercy and her father don't know this yet, tonight is his night.
Patrick #1 says into the voice mail frantically Mercy, where the hell are you, Mercy how could you not be here for me right now, this dog is dead Mercy, dead, the dog is dog, I killed a dog Mercy.
Mercy's father is all glitter and sparkle. Mercy's father is all diamonds. Mercy's father has his signature look, has his Marilyn Monroe look, has his Jackie O look, has his Liza look, has his Mardi Gras look, has his "smalltown gay bar in Michigan" look, has his Goldie Hawn Laugh-In look, has his Cher from Sonny and Cher look, has his "how Britney Spears will look like 60 years from now" look. When Mercy was a teenager, her father's drag closet was just one row of hangers and one shelf in his main closet in his room. Now her father's drag closet is one of the guest rooms converted with two walk-in closets on either end and built in shelves on the walls for bags, shoes, and accessories.
Mercy's father's bag collection puts hers to shame--designers from all walks of life. Mercy's father was big in the in-crowd party scene at one time in the City, which is where her met her mother initially, a country girl away for the weekend to check out an art college. A perfect disguise Mercy thought over and again in her life, but Mercy's father had always said the love and admiration was real between he and her mother, that he respected her as an artist, the he absolutely loved her work and that is what made him fall in love with her. They had Mercy out of Mercy. They had Mercy out of a true compassion for each other.
Patrick #1 is frantic into the phone, calling 1, 10, 15, 25 times. Where are you, I need you, this dog is dead, what do I do.
I called 911, was that what was I was supposed to do, oh God.
I can't believe you aren't answering the phone, this is important, this dog is dead, I'm out in the middle of nowhere and its late and oh God where are the police
MERRRRRCCCCYY WHAT THE FUCK WHERE ARE YOU JESUS CHRIST the cops are here Mercy the cops are here
Mercy's father steps out of the rented stretch Cadillac and pushes herself up on to the pink sparkling walking stick they will use all night, a walking stick with different emblems and colors to match every outfit. Mercy's father is lucky they don't have to have an oxygen mask on or be in a wheelchair. Tonight will be one of the last nights that they won't be without oxygen or a wheelchair. But, Mercy and her father don't know this yet, tonight is his night.
Mercy
Patrick #2 cuts himself and Mercy has always known this. When they first met it was endearing, like something she could just break him of, like something he did to be charming, like buying flowers only these petals scabbed over, became bruises, became scars.
Patrick #2 started out by just making intricate designs in his skin when he was upset, but into high school and into young adulthood it had grown into a slash habit, as many times, in as many places, there was no more discretion.
So, it comes as no surprise, then, that Mercy was never eager to fight or make him upset. Unfortunately, though, everything upsets Patrick #2. He no longer drives a car anymore, he no longer has a cell phone, he stays up all night on speed and plays the acoustic guitar and make stencils with an X-acto knife and manilla folders. He made Mercy one that said Gustave Flaubert once in Old English Letters. Just dab a cotton ball with paint and put it on something, it'll look sweet, he told her but she never did, it sits in her desk, he looks at it from time to time.
Patrick #2 has not stopped cutting himself, Mercy is staring at him expressionless from across the table. Here is where she always ends up, across the table from people. She is across the table with her back to the door, a rarity. She doesn't like to sit with her back to the door, she likes to see who is entering behind her, if she is going to be murdered she would prefer to see her killer's eyes. The same reason why she goes to the OBGYN in October above all months, in case she is dying, she can die in Fall.
She is across the table with her back to the entrance in a cheap but clean diner across town but in the middle so neither of them had to go all the way across town to see each other which means no sex because what was the point in meeting in the middle if all they were going to do was go to one of their houses far away?
Patrick #2 has blood under his fingers.
Patrick #2 started out by just making intricate designs in his skin when he was upset, but into high school and into young adulthood it had grown into a slash habit, as many times, in as many places, there was no more discretion.
So, it comes as no surprise, then, that Mercy was never eager to fight or make him upset. Unfortunately, though, everything upsets Patrick #2. He no longer drives a car anymore, he no longer has a cell phone, he stays up all night on speed and plays the acoustic guitar and make stencils with an X-acto knife and manilla folders. He made Mercy one that said Gustave Flaubert once in Old English Letters. Just dab a cotton ball with paint and put it on something, it'll look sweet, he told her but she never did, it sits in her desk, he looks at it from time to time.
Patrick #2 has not stopped cutting himself, Mercy is staring at him expressionless from across the table. Here is where she always ends up, across the table from people. She is across the table with her back to the door, a rarity. She doesn't like to sit with her back to the door, she likes to see who is entering behind her, if she is going to be murdered she would prefer to see her killer's eyes. The same reason why she goes to the OBGYN in October above all months, in case she is dying, she can die in Fall.
She is across the table with her back to the entrance in a cheap but clean diner across town but in the middle so neither of them had to go all the way across town to see each other which means no sex because what was the point in meeting in the middle if all they were going to do was go to one of their houses far away?
Patrick #2 has blood under his fingers.
Mercy
Amber Wavves, Anita Hard Cock, and Kay Mart are all coming over today to have tea with Mercy's father, even though he can't even sit up straight, even though he doubles over in pain and won't be able to speak clearly and his face is slurred because of the pills he's on and he doesn't move his mouth even though she's pretty sure he can, she's pretty sure he has talked himself right out of being able to use his mouth in his head, but he can if he tried, why can't he just try.
Mercy took her father to the grocery store and he asked to wear a large blonde wig that always made him feel like Goldie Hawn in Laugh-In. I love Goldie Hawn, he says to her. Mercy's dad has lost all of his front teeth in the most recent years of his life, mostly due to poor hyigene as a child but also due to the medications he's been taking to keep this disease at bay. The doctor's said this would happen, Mercy's father says, the doctor's told me that I could lose my hair, lose my teeth. In the long blonde wig, Mercy does his make-up carefully. Doing make-up takes a very long sometimes these days, sometimes up to an hour and half. Mercy's dad's hands shake so bad and when he's trying to put on eyeliner or mascara or eye lashes, it ends up everywhere, extremely whore-y cat-eyes her father would say and laugh, I mean, I'm all about the whore look but only when I have somewhere to be!
Mercy's father had a date with Judge Judy at 4pm most days. When he was dancing, he would record it and then, later, DVR-it right to the TV so when he got home he could have his Judge Judy time. Mercy would wake so scared at the laughter that seemed to come from nowhere, there would be dark silence and then there would be her father's laugher, high-pitched and full of joy, laughing at the dumbass that just got his ass strung up! he's say to no one, fucking right, Judy, you get it girl! he would say, booming laughter. Mercy longed for that laughter now, she longed to wake in her childhood bed in her childhood home to her father coming in from work and laughing along with Judge Judy.
Mercy's father worked all night shifts, because, its hard to be a drag queen during the day, this isn't Mexico! her father would say but what does that mean, Mercy always wondered, is there a daytime drag culture down there that she's never known about? There is a framed picture of Ru Paul in boy drag and her father in girl drag and they are both laughing on a beach in Puerto Vallerta, Mexico, at a festival, it is day time, or at least it looks like day time, and Mercy is always confused when her father says things like "this isn't Mexico!" or "this isn't Vietnam!" which, he was too young for Vietnam anyway. He worked during the night, from 1030pm to 4am and when or if he was out of drag by 1am, it was a good night, he said, because he got paid regardless of hours, people like to be entertained, he says, people love to be entertained. They don't give a shit, as long as people are entertained.
Mercy's father's routines are exactly the same all the time, his father's routines are mostly about married people and his shows revolve around young women in the audience getting married. About how wearing a white dress is a lie. About how wearing a white dress insinuates virginity and c'mon honey, oh lord, c'mon, you are no virgin, look at you! LOOK AT YOU! and everyone always laughs. Everyone always laughs because you are saying the things that they can't say to their faces, and who is going to disagree with a mob of 6'3 men in high heels and wigs and make up screaming at you. No one. People love to hear what they can see in themselves and don't want to deal with.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked once over some burnt toast. Dad was not a good cook, her mother was always the best cook, her dad didn't even know how to cook toast. He believed in all of the conspiracy theories around appliances like toasters and microwaves, that they were being radioactively controlled by the government to take over your mind, they are mind control devices, why in the world would we use such things. So toast goes into the oven to bake and it is usually black on one side and burned on the other and because he made such a big deal about it, Mercy's Dad would eat two pieces and pretend its good but Mercy would not. That is one thing Mercy's dad always did, though, was stay up or get up (if he was home from the club early enough) with her to send her off to school, even it if was with a piece of burnt toast and water bottle of orange juice, to go.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked.
No, because I am a man, her dad answered.
But you just dress like a woman for money? Mercy asked.
Precisely. I am a man but I dress in both man drag and woman drag, everything is a performance, every outfit is just an outfit.
Do you like men when you are in boy drag and women when you are in man drag? she asked.
No, I like men all the time, no matter what drag I am in. Now, hurry up and eat that toast before it gets cold, you have a bus to catch.
Why did you and my mom have me? Mercy asked.
Because you were sent to us by the stork, how can we say no? he said with a smile only the devil could have created. One day, you were on our front porch. We can just send you back to where you were made, now can we?
Mercy loved that answer, even though it never made any sense. Her whole life all she heard was that she was dropped on the front porch and these kind people would take care of her. She always thought to herself a barrage of questions she would never put to her father about if that's true, then why didn't they just sent her to a group home? Why did they keep her? Why be a father when you don't want to be? If I didn't come out of my mother and wasn't created by you two together, what's the point?
Now Mercy, don't be so sad. Don't be sad, Mercy. You'll always be my baby girl. You are my baby girl. That's why we named you Mercy. You were never a punishment. You were always the forgiveness for my wrong doing.
Mercy took her father to the grocery store and he asked to wear a large blonde wig that always made him feel like Goldie Hawn in Laugh-In. I love Goldie Hawn, he says to her. Mercy's dad has lost all of his front teeth in the most recent years of his life, mostly due to poor hyigene as a child but also due to the medications he's been taking to keep this disease at bay. The doctor's said this would happen, Mercy's father says, the doctor's told me that I could lose my hair, lose my teeth. In the long blonde wig, Mercy does his make-up carefully. Doing make-up takes a very long sometimes these days, sometimes up to an hour and half. Mercy's dad's hands shake so bad and when he's trying to put on eyeliner or mascara or eye lashes, it ends up everywhere, extremely whore-y cat-eyes her father would say and laugh, I mean, I'm all about the whore look but only when I have somewhere to be!
Mercy's father had a date with Judge Judy at 4pm most days. When he was dancing, he would record it and then, later, DVR-it right to the TV so when he got home he could have his Judge Judy time. Mercy would wake so scared at the laughter that seemed to come from nowhere, there would be dark silence and then there would be her father's laugher, high-pitched and full of joy, laughing at the dumbass that just got his ass strung up! he's say to no one, fucking right, Judy, you get it girl! he would say, booming laughter. Mercy longed for that laughter now, she longed to wake in her childhood bed in her childhood home to her father coming in from work and laughing along with Judge Judy.
Mercy's father worked all night shifts, because, its hard to be a drag queen during the day, this isn't Mexico! her father would say but what does that mean, Mercy always wondered, is there a daytime drag culture down there that she's never known about? There is a framed picture of Ru Paul in boy drag and her father in girl drag and they are both laughing on a beach in Puerto Vallerta, Mexico, at a festival, it is day time, or at least it looks like day time, and Mercy is always confused when her father says things like "this isn't Mexico!" or "this isn't Vietnam!" which, he was too young for Vietnam anyway. He worked during the night, from 1030pm to 4am and when or if he was out of drag by 1am, it was a good night, he said, because he got paid regardless of hours, people like to be entertained, he says, people love to be entertained. They don't give a shit, as long as people are entertained.
Mercy's father's routines are exactly the same all the time, his father's routines are mostly about married people and his shows revolve around young women in the audience getting married. About how wearing a white dress is a lie. About how wearing a white dress insinuates virginity and c'mon honey, oh lord, c'mon, you are no virgin, look at you! LOOK AT YOU! and everyone always laughs. Everyone always laughs because you are saying the things that they can't say to their faces, and who is going to disagree with a mob of 6'3 men in high heels and wigs and make up screaming at you. No one. People love to hear what they can see in themselves and don't want to deal with.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked once over some burnt toast. Dad was not a good cook, her mother was always the best cook, her dad didn't even know how to cook toast. He believed in all of the conspiracy theories around appliances like toasters and microwaves, that they were being radioactively controlled by the government to take over your mind, they are mind control devices, why in the world would we use such things. So toast goes into the oven to bake and it is usually black on one side and burned on the other and because he made such a big deal about it, Mercy's Dad would eat two pieces and pretend its good but Mercy would not. That is one thing Mercy's dad always did, though, was stay up or get up (if he was home from the club early enough) with her to send her off to school, even it if was with a piece of burnt toast and water bottle of orange juice, to go.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked.
No, because I am a man, her dad answered.
But you just dress like a woman for money? Mercy asked.
Precisely. I am a man but I dress in both man drag and woman drag, everything is a performance, every outfit is just an outfit.
Do you like men when you are in boy drag and women when you are in man drag? she asked.
No, I like men all the time, no matter what drag I am in. Now, hurry up and eat that toast before it gets cold, you have a bus to catch.
Why did you and my mom have me? Mercy asked.
Because you were sent to us by the stork, how can we say no? he said with a smile only the devil could have created. One day, you were on our front porch. We can just send you back to where you were made, now can we?
Mercy loved that answer, even though it never made any sense. Her whole life all she heard was that she was dropped on the front porch and these kind people would take care of her. She always thought to herself a barrage of questions she would never put to her father about if that's true, then why didn't they just sent her to a group home? Why did they keep her? Why be a father when you don't want to be? If I didn't come out of my mother and wasn't created by you two together, what's the point?
Now Mercy, don't be so sad. Don't be sad, Mercy. You'll always be my baby girl. You are my baby girl. That's why we named you Mercy. You were never a punishment. You were always the forgiveness for my wrong doing.
Mercy
Stand back, Mercy, from the train tracks.
Mercy stands next to the train tracks and places a penny on the rail. There was always a story growing up of that the train would derail and explode if you put a penny on the rail. It wouldn't just flatten it.
Mercy sits on the ground and waits for the train. When it finally comes, the wind makes her eardrums pop and she is so small that the force almost knocks her on her back. She feels like a blown out accordian, she is wiry and strung out and whistles through her nose sometimes. When the train blows past completely, she has forgotten about the penny for only a moment. She has forgotten about the penny until she stands up and walks over to the rail and find the penny completely flattened, as if in one of those tourist attractions where you pay 51 cents to flatten a penny and imprint it with someone touristy, she has one from a Coors Brewery tour her father had in his dresser that she stole the other day. She is going to keep this flat penny in her pocket until it falls out in the washing machine or the dryer or on the way to the bedroom from the washing machine or dryer. Mercy will lose this flat penny and it will sadden her, the way she loses everything she loves.
Mercy stands next to the train tracks and places a penny on the rail. There was always a story growing up of that the train would derail and explode if you put a penny on the rail. It wouldn't just flatten it.
Mercy sits on the ground and waits for the train. When it finally comes, the wind makes her eardrums pop and she is so small that the force almost knocks her on her back. She feels like a blown out accordian, she is wiry and strung out and whistles through her nose sometimes. When the train blows past completely, she has forgotten about the penny for only a moment. She has forgotten about the penny until she stands up and walks over to the rail and find the penny completely flattened, as if in one of those tourist attractions where you pay 51 cents to flatten a penny and imprint it with someone touristy, she has one from a Coors Brewery tour her father had in his dresser that she stole the other day. She is going to keep this flat penny in her pocket until it falls out in the washing machine or the dryer or on the way to the bedroom from the washing machine or dryer. Mercy will lose this flat penny and it will sadden her, the way she loses everything she loves.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Mercy
Patrick #1 comes home from Germany because he cheats on his girlfriend.
Patrick #1 is the love of Mercy's life, although he is gay, although he has never been faithful to a man or woman his entire life.
Patrick #1 went to Germany with his girlfriend because he is always having girlfriends, Patrick #1 won't simply have a boyfriend, he wants to have a girlfriend, he says he likes the close company of women, he likes how women's faces look when he cums in their mouths, its better than boys, he says, but by boys he refers to grown men, Polar Bears, the category is on his various networking sites to instantly find men to hook up like Smusher or Smasher or whatever it is called. There are many, Patrick #1 reminds her, there are many different ways to find who you are looking for.
Patrick #1 loves Polar Bears, older man that are hairy, covered with white hair, I don't like pot bellies, though, I'm not trying to fuck a stove for heaven's sake Patrick tells her.
But Patrick #1, he likes to date women, to live with women as lovers, they are so smooth normally, they just slide all over you, you know what I mean, I love smooth bodies on women, I like talking to women, the smell of them, they keep the house clean, they are cute and like to shop.
Mercy doesn't understand, because she is none of those things, she is not what Patrick #1 says he likes at all, Mercy is not those women.
Patrick #1 dated a girl and followed her to Germany and then, of course, cheated on her through polarbearsinberlin.com but also with a red-haired old prostitute that was smoking a cigarette in a window, staring sadly, her name was Amber and she spoke almost no German but she had a thick face and dark lines that told you how much she smoked. Her voice was low and surprising and scratchy and so was her throat, Patrick #1 says to Mercy, so was her throat.
Patrick #1 cheats on his girlfriend and is kicked out of the house after telling her because this is what always happens, he cheats and then the guilt and then he calls Mercy. Mercy bolts upright in the middle of the night at the sound of her phone, no one calls her in the middle of the night ever, and it is Patrick #1 crying, saying he shit his pants walking back to his apartment because he is so drunk he smells like shit and his girlfriend won't talk to him, his girlfriend won't speak to him, because he is drunk and smells like shit and has fucked two separate people and Jesus, enough with these girlfriends! Mercy says, enough with these Polar Bears, get your shit together! and Patrick #1 laughs, as if satan lives inside of his bowels.
Patrick #1 moves back to the states after his girlfriend kicks him out, kicks him out of Berlin, tells him the city is not big enough for both of them and that he needs to go back to the states. He doesn't disagree, he takes two days to sober up, quit his job, ship his things, make an arrangement (calling Mercy) and flew back without saying good bye to her, while she was at work teaching English as a second language to business men that tried to fuck her, who she resisted, who she may not resist any longer now that he was out of the picture.
Patrick #1 is back in town, of course he is, Mercy thinks, my father is dying and Patrick #1 is back in town. Mercy's father is wearing a huge white curly disco wig from the '70's while napping with his mouth open. It scares Mercy so much that she wiggles his feet until he moves a little, the wig staying in perfect place, his mouth closing so he doesn't look like he's dead.
Patrick #1 is the love of Mercy's life, although he is gay, although he has never been faithful to a man or woman his entire life.
Patrick #1 went to Germany with his girlfriend because he is always having girlfriends, Patrick #1 won't simply have a boyfriend, he wants to have a girlfriend, he says he likes the close company of women, he likes how women's faces look when he cums in their mouths, its better than boys, he says, but by boys he refers to grown men, Polar Bears, the category is on his various networking sites to instantly find men to hook up like Smusher or Smasher or whatever it is called. There are many, Patrick #1 reminds her, there are many different ways to find who you are looking for.
Patrick #1 loves Polar Bears, older man that are hairy, covered with white hair, I don't like pot bellies, though, I'm not trying to fuck a stove for heaven's sake Patrick tells her.
But Patrick #1, he likes to date women, to live with women as lovers, they are so smooth normally, they just slide all over you, you know what I mean, I love smooth bodies on women, I like talking to women, the smell of them, they keep the house clean, they are cute and like to shop.
Mercy doesn't understand, because she is none of those things, she is not what Patrick #1 says he likes at all, Mercy is not those women.
Patrick #1 dated a girl and followed her to Germany and then, of course, cheated on her through polarbearsinberlin.com but also with a red-haired old prostitute that was smoking a cigarette in a window, staring sadly, her name was Amber and she spoke almost no German but she had a thick face and dark lines that told you how much she smoked. Her voice was low and surprising and scratchy and so was her throat, Patrick #1 says to Mercy, so was her throat.
Patrick #1 cheats on his girlfriend and is kicked out of the house after telling her because this is what always happens, he cheats and then the guilt and then he calls Mercy. Mercy bolts upright in the middle of the night at the sound of her phone, no one calls her in the middle of the night ever, and it is Patrick #1 crying, saying he shit his pants walking back to his apartment because he is so drunk he smells like shit and his girlfriend won't talk to him, his girlfriend won't speak to him, because he is drunk and smells like shit and has fucked two separate people and Jesus, enough with these girlfriends! Mercy says, enough with these Polar Bears, get your shit together! and Patrick #1 laughs, as if satan lives inside of his bowels.
Patrick #1 moves back to the states after his girlfriend kicks him out, kicks him out of Berlin, tells him the city is not big enough for both of them and that he needs to go back to the states. He doesn't disagree, he takes two days to sober up, quit his job, ship his things, make an arrangement (calling Mercy) and flew back without saying good bye to her, while she was at work teaching English as a second language to business men that tried to fuck her, who she resisted, who she may not resist any longer now that he was out of the picture.
Patrick #1 is back in town, of course he is, Mercy thinks, my father is dying and Patrick #1 is back in town. Mercy's father is wearing a huge white curly disco wig from the '70's while napping with his mouth open. It scares Mercy so much that she wiggles his feet until he moves a little, the wig staying in perfect place, his mouth closing so he doesn't look like he's dead.
Mercy
Mercy watches her friend's father sit too close to her friend's father's little sister and she tells her friend in bed that night, your dad, your dad, he was too close, he was too close to your baby sister. When her friend ignores her, she never forgets. Years later, she finds out her friend's father was molesting her little sister, and Mercy can't ever forget that feeling, like dying on the inside, what it feels like to compromise your self for another person.
It is fall and football season and Mercy hates the nostalgia. She is sitting in front of the mirror of the vanity her grandfather had left her in his will, a cherry vanity and a louis vuitton trunk that was worth money, that she kept shoes in at the end of her bed. She was trying out different looks from a magazine, the arched eyebrow here, the square eyeshadow here, blocks of color, blocks and blocks of color. She would line up her eyeshadows in order of color, to create a spectrum, she needed everything in view so she could decide. Most of the time she didn't even wear makeup, she just bought makeup and gazed lovingly at it. She wanted to simply watch her things.
It is fall and football season and Mercy hates the nostalgia. She is sitting in front of the mirror of the vanity her grandfather had left her in his will, a cherry vanity and a louis vuitton trunk that was worth money, that she kept shoes in at the end of her bed. She was trying out different looks from a magazine, the arched eyebrow here, the square eyeshadow here, blocks of color, blocks and blocks of color. She would line up her eyeshadows in order of color, to create a spectrum, she needed everything in view so she could decide. Most of the time she didn't even wear makeup, she just bought makeup and gazed lovingly at it. She wanted to simply watch her things.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Mercy
Mercy is invited to go to Kodiak, Alaska, an exboyfriend just moved there for a job in the woods in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. The pictures are breathtaking, she writes in an email, even though he wrote her on paper with a pencil so when the letter finally arrived some of the words were faded, she had to read it under a microscope. There is no wifi in the mountains of Kodiak, where he is, but she insisted on writing an email anyway, dating it as if it mattered, addressing it to him in the corner of the screen to his cabin. He said he only got his mail every two weeks, anyway. Dear Patrick, Mercy writes, Dear Patrick.
Dreams of killing. Stab. Repeat. Stab. Repeat.
When she was in high school, the feeling of wanting to kill one of her mother's many husbands, replacements for her father. This one in particular. The night her mother and this man yelled at each other in his big house for hours until he came downstairs where Mercy was, in a rage, and grabbed something from his tool room. Remember, Mercy. Mercy remembers the feeling in her body of acquiescing to a trade-off: her life for her mother's. She remembers resigning in those moments. What did he grab and where is he going. He is mad. Madder than she had ever seen him get. So, so angry.
A man like that, of privilege, white, he can get away with things, she thought. Mercy thought, he can get away with so much. There are three mine shafts on his property alone. Three.
Mercy remembers grabbing a pair of scissors and a claw hammer. She is shaking, she is involuntarily crying, not weeping, but choking back tears, not calmly at all. In this moment, I resign my life. Tonight is the night, I will go to prison forever. Tonight is the night I go to prison forever. Tonight is the night. Good-bye future, good-bye college, good-bye boys that taste like Southern Comfort in black hooded sweatshirts that blend with the sky around the bonfire parties. Kiss me, kiss me, c'mon they say. They always prod. They always have to prod. Mercy freezes. Kiss me, kiss me. Mercy does not know how to say no yet. She doesn't say it often. She will learn someday but she does not know yet so Kiss me kiss me becomes hands up her shirt. Becomes.
Tremble. Choke tears. Skip one step. Skip two steps. Many leaps. On top of the stairs. Looking down. What if he fell. Accident. The dogs are barking. Skip two more steps. Listen. Top. of. Stairs. Listen. What. The clink of the claw hammer, it hits the wall. Accident. Two more steps. Back against banister. Shadow. Listen. Yell. Slam door. Tears blending into hair. Moist hair. Tremble. Choke.
Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Her mother is fine. Mercy, look, your mother is in the guest bathroom washing her face with a towel, cursing under her breath about that man she married. Mercy doubles over as if in pain, the claw hammer hits her knee lightly before landing silently on the stair below her. This awful carpet with piss and shit stains everywhere, it smells like a pet store in here she told her mother once. Her mother is fine. Her mother's husband is outside, drinking vodka from the neck of the bottle, in his undershorts, in his Gander Mountain beach chair, waiting for everything to pass over.
Mercy feels this feeling again tonight, Dear Patrick, do you remember one of my mother's exhusbands has three mine shafts on his property, do you think there are bodies in those mine shafts? Patrick once told her that there are things every man on the planet carries inside of him that he does not let anyone in on, he said that his are particular in that he can't even speak about them, there are statutes of limitations on certain things but not others, what does that even mean, Mercy said but Patrick did not answer and was quiet a long while.
Dreams of killing. Stab. Repeat. Stab. Repeat.
When she was in high school, the feeling of wanting to kill one of her mother's many husbands, replacements for her father. This one in particular. The night her mother and this man yelled at each other in his big house for hours until he came downstairs where Mercy was, in a rage, and grabbed something from his tool room. Remember, Mercy. Mercy remembers the feeling in her body of acquiescing to a trade-off: her life for her mother's. She remembers resigning in those moments. What did he grab and where is he going. He is mad. Madder than she had ever seen him get. So, so angry.
A man like that, of privilege, white, he can get away with things, she thought. Mercy thought, he can get away with so much. There are three mine shafts on his property alone. Three.
Mercy remembers grabbing a pair of scissors and a claw hammer. She is shaking, she is involuntarily crying, not weeping, but choking back tears, not calmly at all. In this moment, I resign my life. Tonight is the night, I will go to prison forever. Tonight is the night I go to prison forever. Tonight is the night. Good-bye future, good-bye college, good-bye boys that taste like Southern Comfort in black hooded sweatshirts that blend with the sky around the bonfire parties. Kiss me, kiss me, c'mon they say. They always prod. They always have to prod. Mercy freezes. Kiss me, kiss me. Mercy does not know how to say no yet. She doesn't say it often. She will learn someday but she does not know yet so Kiss me kiss me becomes hands up her shirt. Becomes.
Tremble. Choke tears. Skip one step. Skip two steps. Many leaps. On top of the stairs. Looking down. What if he fell. Accident. The dogs are barking. Skip two more steps. Listen. Top. of. Stairs. Listen. What. The clink of the claw hammer, it hits the wall. Accident. Two more steps. Back against banister. Shadow. Listen. Yell. Slam door. Tears blending into hair. Moist hair. Tremble. Choke.
Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Her mother is fine. Mercy, look, your mother is in the guest bathroom washing her face with a towel, cursing under her breath about that man she married. Mercy doubles over as if in pain, the claw hammer hits her knee lightly before landing silently on the stair below her. This awful carpet with piss and shit stains everywhere, it smells like a pet store in here she told her mother once. Her mother is fine. Her mother's husband is outside, drinking vodka from the neck of the bottle, in his undershorts, in his Gander Mountain beach chair, waiting for everything to pass over.
Mercy feels this feeling again tonight, Dear Patrick, do you remember one of my mother's exhusbands has three mine shafts on his property, do you think there are bodies in those mine shafts? Patrick once told her that there are things every man on the planet carries inside of him that he does not let anyone in on, he said that his are particular in that he can't even speak about them, there are statutes of limitations on certain things but not others, what does that even mean, Mercy said but Patrick did not answer and was quiet a long while.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Mercy
Let me tell you something about your father, a Queen named Amber Wavves says, Let me tell you something about your father, in his early years as a Queen, the rumor around was that his main man was a dude that was an AIDS terrorists, if you know what I mean. Mean dude had AIDS and shook it around like it was nothing, fucking Ev-ah-ree-thang, you know what I mean. And he was your old man's old man. You know. He never told your dad, though, sweets, and I'm sorry you gotta find out this way, but your old man is sick and you need to come back here and help him. He's gotta community here but it aint the same as his baby girl he talks about so much.
Miss Amber says, we got you a airplane ticket home, child. Come home and take care of your daddy.
Mercy looked at the only surviving photographs of her as a toddler with her mop of ragamuffin curls and her father, looking like he stepped right out of Ralph Lauren advertisement, windblown hair, straight white teeth, tan skin, even in a black and white picture. Her mother, too, not in the same realm of beauty as her father, in a different style, an air about her more than her actual physical body. What she always interpreted as passion between them, laughing carelessly at their toddler baby girl.
Mercy. Baby Mercy. Toddler Mercy. Teenage Mercy. Adult Mercy.
Her mother got to see up to space between Toddler Mercy and Teenage Mercy. Awkward child Mercy. Her mother always called her Mercy May even though it wasn't her middle name.
Little did her mother know and little did Mercy know that the beautiful man in the photograph with is tan head cocked and his blonde curls accenting his mouth, wide and smiling, is dying of HIV at the moment this picture was taken. No one knew, through decades, he kept quiet even when diagnosed, he kept performing, even after her mother died mysteriously of a brain aneurysm, she had a headache and needed to lie down and was dead. In this picture of Toddler Mercy, this beautiful man was having unprotected sex and sharing needles on the weekends with his other Queens. This beautiful man has not yet told his wife that the second job he has taken on in the City is actually dressing in women's clothing and dancing for money. He has not told her that he was in a competition and won first place and that is where their money for the crib came from. The best part about her is that she never asked any questions her father would say to her eventually, she never asked me anything at all until I was caught.
Miss Amber says, we got you a airplane ticket home, child. Come home and take care of your daddy.
Mercy looked at the only surviving photographs of her as a toddler with her mop of ragamuffin curls and her father, looking like he stepped right out of Ralph Lauren advertisement, windblown hair, straight white teeth, tan skin, even in a black and white picture. Her mother, too, not in the same realm of beauty as her father, in a different style, an air about her more than her actual physical body. What she always interpreted as passion between them, laughing carelessly at their toddler baby girl.
Mercy. Baby Mercy. Toddler Mercy. Teenage Mercy. Adult Mercy.
Her mother got to see up to space between Toddler Mercy and Teenage Mercy. Awkward child Mercy. Her mother always called her Mercy May even though it wasn't her middle name.
Little did her mother know and little did Mercy know that the beautiful man in the photograph with is tan head cocked and his blonde curls accenting his mouth, wide and smiling, is dying of HIV at the moment this picture was taken. No one knew, through decades, he kept quiet even when diagnosed, he kept performing, even after her mother died mysteriously of a brain aneurysm, she had a headache and needed to lie down and was dead. In this picture of Toddler Mercy, this beautiful man was having unprotected sex and sharing needles on the weekends with his other Queens. This beautiful man has not yet told his wife that the second job he has taken on in the City is actually dressing in women's clothing and dancing for money. He has not told her that he was in a competition and won first place and that is where their money for the crib came from. The best part about her is that she never asked any questions her father would say to her eventually, she never asked me anything at all until I was caught.
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