Saturday, November 6, 2010

Chapter Three


one night of the sunroom i ate LSD because no one was around to entertain, or to entertain me. i put on Nina Simone. then, as almost a second thought, i followed with my strappy floor length red velvet graduation dress.

i looked at myself in the dress. it needed contrast. i decided, it needed blue. i got the food coloring vial and went to town. i dyed just the parts of me what showed through the red dress. and then my feet got to itchin, and i left the apartment building, with no shoes.

there was no one on the streets. the occasional car was seemingly all that even moved about.

it was nearing three in the morning, a still time i had been awake for lately. supercharged with Nina Simones 'Sinnerman' blaring in my tripping brain, i moved on towards the parking garage, where acoustics were fine and privacy was sure.

except it didnt end up being sure.

i was singing my head off with the walls sending it back in low, lovely increment. clapping in time, i almost didnt catch the cautious footsteps of the cop who entered and neared.

i stopped singing.

i looked at him.

i smiled my best. but i didnt get up. i stayed perched on the steps, a bit self-conscious about the blue and no shoes, my voice and my red dress.

the cop tipped his hat and said, "good evening, Maam."

"how are you, tonight?" i managed, with stilted dignity.

the cop was on the young side of thirty. a sturdy blond, not unattractive, i wondered that id not seen him before, seeing how id lived and walked the neighborhood for years.

"i am well. i am more worried about you," the cop said.

"what are you doing?"

"oh, im singing!" i told him, as my foot began a tap of its own.

he stood on the landing below the stair. he ignored my tap.

"i heard," he said, "you sounded pretty good!”

the conversation didnt fit my nervousness, so i relaxed a notch. that is when my toes curled themselves sound as a hedgehog, and stayed still.


"the acoustics are so good in here, is why i came," i offered.

“theres been recent calls about purse snatchings in this parking garage," the cop warned me.

he kept one hand below his back, as if clearing passage for anyone who came by.

"oh, i dont have a purse!" i exclaimed, showing my empty blue hands.

"i guess youre right about that!" shyly and sweetly, the cop laughed agreement.

"well, be careful, at any rate.”

“you never know just who will come in here," he sagely said.

and with a tip of the hat the cop walked back to his patrol car and drove off, his tires making the least amount of noise as if thotful of the gravel, twigs and other dreck beneath.

a few beats for the irony to sink in, and i got up as well; walked away, not singing.

as i walked i forgot my surroundings, so wrapped up in how he didnt ask my name! or how old i was, and at 18, i did not look 18, buddy. and where were my shoes? i was wrapped up in having got away with. something about the blue and LSD like a sheath had held me in, impervious.

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