cannonball She liked talking too much and eating French fries and mayonnaise. Her name was of a mystery, but everyone called her Kid. There was hypothesizing enigma about her. It was in the way she walked, the way she smiled at you, and the kind of smile that made you love her even if she wanted you to drop dead. She liked having sex around Midnight every night because the whole world was still, plus it was the time her sister and brother-in-law went to sleep.Jessica Baptiste And she loved them. Her sister’s name was Lily. She worked at the grease-pit across the street from the arcade. Lily was wise, but married young. Her husband, Simon, (but everyone called him Simmy), was the truck driver who spent most of the time here and there, but never out of the thoughts of his wife and sister-in-law. Lily loved her husband and tried to show him every chance she could. When he returned on the weekends, she cooked his favorite meal and sent Kid somewhere so he could sleep and spend time with her. She stopped herself from becoming pregnant because Simmy wanted to wait five years into the marriage to have a baby. Something vicious interrupted their plans: Kid and Lily’s father fell in love with guitars, cheap motels, and boardwalks. This love affair resulted in Kid living with Lily and Simmy because their mother was dead, along with a stillborn baby. And she loved her husband and sister. On Kid’s sixteenth birthday, he bought an old Monte Carlo and fixed it up during the winter, so Kid could drive it around town with the windows down, singing at the top of her lungs. When she needed glasses, he pawned his wedding ring to fit the bill. When he traveled for his job, he dipped an old soda bottle into the Gulf of Mexico so Kid could have a souvenir from a place she could not go. When she needed a bigger closet, he took out the wall for his baby’s room (Although Lily never conceived). And he loved her. Their house sat on a row of houses that all resembled some kind of disturbing dollhouse village. Old Mrs. Steinberg lived next door and sat on her porch listening to Kid’s nonsense singing of silly songs that had no ending or purpose. Their driveway was once concrete, but turned into dirt because of Simmy’s truck tearing it into little bits that scattered. The garage was tidy on the outside, but had a mess of old boxes filled with old memories from past years when the three of them were younger and better off. A hole sat on the corner side. It wasn’t very big, but it was noticeable to any outside person looking in. Inside the house, on the mantle, sat a picture of a little girl holding a retarded cat. She smiled at the camera (or at whomever was taking the picture) while a tricycle stood next to her. A caption on a golden picture frame read “ Kid at age 6”. Other pictures of Lily and Simmy stood around the retarded cat photo. One of Lily standing by a pool with Simmy’s arm around her waist was to the right. And another of Kid at fourteen with her father and Lily sat to the furthest right. This picture was probably taken during one of their father’s few and brief visits. In it, Lily looked sullen, but smiled a little. Kid smiled brightly and held onto her father’s arm. She was tempted to write, “ Before the love affair” underneath the picture. On slow nights, before Lily had to close, Kid would have driven to pick her up. Sometimes she’d wash tables or play old songs on the jukebox. One night, while everyone was at home watching the game, Kid perched herself on a stool and began talking too much as usual. “Do you miss Daddy?” she asked. “ No.” Lily said sweeping and brushing the hair from her worn-out looking face. “ I bet he’s in Chicago or maybe New York.” “ Maybe.” “ Remember when we all went to the ocean and Daddy…” Lily dropped her broom, “Stop talking and go empty the trashcans, huh.” This conversation usually ended on a note similar to this one, even if Lily wasn’t tired, wasn’t at work, and didn’t hate her father. She hated him because he left a five-year-old child with her when she was fifteen. She hated him because he became a lover of boardwalks and guitars when her sister needed cold medicine. And she hated her father because on her wedding day, she walked down the aisle, alone and had to take her sister with her on the honeymoon. During the summer before the Kid’s senior year of high school, a diploma picture of a more mature, more beautiful young woman appeared next to the retarded cat picture. In the picture, she smiled that love smile and wore her mother’s string of pearls. Only this time, there was no caption, just navy blue frame. Lily still worked at the diner, hauling out heavy, steamy plates, while her husband drove around the country delivering freight to companies. Kid got a job along side her sister. On her days off, she would stay at home and watch T.V. Each night while Lily and Simmy slept, she had sex in her bedroom and yelled loudly. So loud, her boyfriend had to cover her mouth. On other nights, she went to a local teenage hangout and talked to her friends about boys, good drugs, and what they wanted to be when they grew up. One day while Kid lay across the couch in the livingroom, sweating because the air conditioner died, Simmy came home. She was watching a documentary on Bob Dylan and his music. She surprisingly liked Dylan not because his songs were good, but because he was real, strange, and cool even as an old man. Simmy saw his little sister-in-law sprawled on the couch and smirked. She looked up and hurriedly looked at the television again. “ No trip?” she asked. “ No trip.” He sat next to her and began to fan himself with a folded up newspaper section. “ What the hell is this?” he asked. “ Bob Dylan.” “ Oh, ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ ?” “ Yeah.” Dylan talked on the television, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Kid smiled and laughed as the interview went on. She rested her head on the back of the couch and closed her eyes. “ You really like this music, don’t you?” he asked her. “ My Dad used to listen to this stuff.” Simmy’s mind took him back to when he fell in love with Lily and Kid was just a child. Lily went to her sister one rainy day. They pulled up into the driveway. A little girl with cornrows and two missing front teeth ran from the car to the porch. “ I’m Kid.” She said smiling and handing him a half eaten snow cone. His mind ran a few years to when he heard footsteps in his living room and whispering. “ They’re asleep” Kid said whispering. “ It’s still weird.” A male voice answered. “ Come on, it’ll be alright.” He remembered the screaming and moaning. His wife slept quietly next to him, while he listened to Kid’s screams and vulgarities through the thin wall. He came back to the present and back to Kid’s pleasure in a hippie named Dylan and his music. He touched her warm, moist leg and traveled upward. Kid opened her eyes and moved his hand away. Simmy leaned into her and kissed her heavy on the mouth. She pushed him away as “Like a Rolling Stone” started on the television. The shorts, panties, and shirt that read “Cherry Bomb” went to the floor in pieces. Kid fought hard as he began to fuck her. Simmy’s expression was tearful and still. Kid smelled cologne on his body and saw the gold chain she and Lily bought him his birthday. Somehow it turned her on and she began to moan loudly. Her arms found themselves around Simmy’s neck, just before he came and stopped. Kid lay on the carpet, tearful and shocked. Simmy zipped up his pants and looked at Kid. “ Go put some clothes on.” he said. Kid wrapped herself with a piece of her shirt. Her bra hung around her waist. Simmy retreated to his bedroom. The occurrence on the carpet became an unexplainable act that the two parties involved could never discuss. Kid would sometimes drift off at work and remember Simmy on top of her and how she could have and should have fought him more. She wanted to tell her sister, “I let Simmy fuck me,” or “Simmy and me did something bad.” Why didn’t she? Was it something that was the spur of moment? Was it something that was to be taken as a life lesson? “ Wake up.” Lily laughed and swiftly slapped Kid’s behind when she stood at the register in a daze. Simmy thought about it more. He stopped bringing Kid presents and stopped talking to her when Lily wasn’t around. He also stopped hearing the sex session screams at Midnight. He wanted to tell Kid that they should never tell anyone, especially Lily, because it would ruin her. He wanted to redeem his wrong to one of the only women he ever loved: Kid. All of this seemed to die down until Lily projected a happy announcement one night to Kid and Simmy: she was going to have a baby. Simmy joyfully picked up his wife and twirled her around, while Kid ran to the bathroom to throw up. She stood over the commode crying and screaming out. She thought about the little baby inside of her sister and how she will have to rock it to sleep and love it. Her screams almost overtook her, until she heard violent rapping on the bathroom door. “ Kid open up, I need to talk to you.” It was Lily’s muffled voice. “ I’m okay.” Kid said. “ Good,” Lily smiled, “ then let me in.” Kid opened the door and wiped her face with a towel. Lily had her hand over her small belly and smiled. She opened her arms to her sister. “ I love you Lily.” Kid whispered falling into Lily’s arms. She smelled like baby powder and cheap drug store perfume. It was enchanting. “ I love you too,” she said, “ I’ll never stop loving you because no matter how many babies me and Sim have, you were the first one.” Lily stepped back and smiled as Kid looked into her eyes. She began to cry big tears while her sister held her. Kid saw vulnerability and her mother in those eyes, a feeling that she hadn’t felt in years. She saw the one woman that loved her more than anything. She saw the woman that taught her how to read, who taught her how to dance, and what it was to love and be loved. Lily stopped smiling and looked down at Kid’s shaking hands. They were folded by her waist. Lily slightly touched them. “ What’s wrong, Kid?” She said with her hands cupping Kid’s tear stained face. Kid looked at the happiness and excitement in her sister. Suddenly for a brief moment that picture of them with their father changed. Lily’s face transformed from the uncomfortable girl in the photo, to a happy child that she missed from times past. “ Nothing.” Kid sobbed. “ Do you have something to say?” “ No.” |