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.
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