The Burning Village

I

Buzz approached the coffin as if the floor were made of delicate china, planning out each intricate step as he walked. He had never seen a corpse before, and a part of him expected a skull to stare back at him as he peered into the billowy casket. Common sense prevailed, and Buzz wasn’t surprised when he saw his grandfather’s face, shiny and wax-like and stuck in an eerily content half-smile. His grandfather, Hanley, was 78 years old when he was struck by a car while crossing a seemingly deserted street. His wife, Marietta, was in the beauty salon on the other side of the street, impatiently waiting for her husband with a bitter frown pervading her freshly-painted face. At the moment of the collision, she was flipping through an issue of The U.S. Catholic, completely oblivious to the events outside. The masseuse, to whom Marietta always referred as a “real fool,” screamed shrilly, drawing attention to the accident outside. A collective “Oh my god!” reverberated off of the walls as the hairdressers ran to the aid of Hanley, while Marietta sat helpless in the chair, her knees too weak to get up. When informed of the news, Marietta solemnly stared at the wood paneled walls until tears finally began to form in her eyes. At the funeral, Marietta cried the same tears, tears that Buzz would soon learn to be empty tears.

Despite a vast difference in political views, Buzz and Hanley had been pretty close. While pictures of Ronald Regan adorned Hanley’s office walls, the bookshelves of Buzz’s room were crammed full of books by Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn. Wanting desperately to join the debate, Buzz often witnessed political arguments between his grandfather and aunts. However, when Buzz even mentioned politics to Hanley, he would often reply, “You’re only fifteen. We’ll talk about these things when you’re older.” This answer infuriated Buzz, as he was convinced that his grandfather didn’t recognize the complexity of his mind despite his young age. On the exterior, Buzz seemed like a student with a less-than-average intelligence: his report card consisting of “C’s.” However, around the age of 9, Buzz deduced that what was taught in school was what the teachers wanted him to learn. Buzz preferred to obtain knowledge on his own terms, and he began fervently reading books and obtaining the knowledge that was not taught in school. Everyone in Buzz’s family thought as his grandfather seemed to think, deciding that Buzz was simply not as intellectual as he had seemed during his toddler years. What was most disappointing to Buzz was that he felt that he and Hanley shared a special bond, so special that Hanley would realize Buzz’s complex mind. After being rejected many times, Buzz realized that the political debate would never be a possibility, and that the bond between him and his grandfather wasn’t as defined as Buzz had thought.

Buzz lived in a pretty large New Jersey suburban town called Aridsville. Despite its size, it seemed like a small town in that its residents were very territorial. Many felt that the people on the other side of Aridsville were an inferior people, as if a few miles of separation dictated differences in personality. To Buzz, it always seemed like there was nothing to do in his town. The only thing that caught his interest was taking the train into the neighboring town of Blithon and rifling through the old vinyls of the CD stores. Buzz had always felt that vinyls produced a more organic and unrefined sound than CDs. He seemed to be the only one with this belief, as the same records appeared week after week in the cracked plastic bins of the record store.

Before his death, Hanley had been consumed by one of those hobbies that only elderly people seem to find interesting. At the library, he had spotted a book in which the derivations of names were given. He checked out the book and began looking up the names of his family members. Hanley always had a little hobby that he concentrated on for a short amount of time. First it was ice cream making, which had him making homemade ice cream for anyone who walked through his front door. Then when anyone walked through that door, they were greeted by Hanley in his reading glasses. The book would be in his hand as he told his visitors that their names were Latin for “precious thing,” or German for “beautiful eagle.” Many found it strange and somewhat creepy. Buzz knew it was just one of his grandfather’s quirks, one of many that every human possessed, and some were just better at concealing. At every family function, everyone collectively rolled their eyes as Hanley brought out the book. Marietta would be off in the corner, glass of whiskey in hand, saying something like “Here he comes with that damned book of his again. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, can we not have one gathering without his little distractions?” Marietta was never interested in any hobbies or pastimes. She preferred to stay in her bed all day, buried in crossword puzzles and TV Guides. The shades in the room were drawn and a frowning Marietta merely gazed out of the window of her television screen. Hanley told only Buzz that the name Hanley was old English for “meadow on a cliff.” Buzz thought to himself that the name fit: a meadow is a thing of great beauty, yet when on a cliff, its beauty can only be experienced once one gets past the dark and rocky parts. Hanley was the same way, and Buzz knew that he had been able to see past the dark and rocky parts many years ago, before even Marietta had. Hanley also revealed with a guilty smile that Marietta was old English for “bitter.” Hanley refused to disclose to Buzz what his name translated as, only mysteriously saying that it was a very fitting name indeed. Buzz persistently asked Hanley for the translation, but Hanley only shook his head and told him he would reveal it when the time came.

II

Buzz’s mother Erin had not had a picture perfect childhood. Hanley had mellowed as a grandfather yet was a completely different father. In his younger years, Hanley knew not how to communicate well. Whenever Erin needed to take the garbage to the curb, she heard her father’s harsh and scolding voice yelling demands up to her room. Hanley would yell and scream at members of the family for reasons unworthy of such a ruckus. Whether there were chores that needed to be done or a dinner that was overcooked, Hanley’s roar broke the tranquil silence of his suburban neighborhood quite often. For most people, their fondest childhood memories are of family dinners at a round table of large platters and small conversation. Erin remembers dreading each family dinner. At the table, there was this uneasy tension that hung in the air. It always seemed like Marietta and Hanley simply couldn’t be bothered by their children and their lives, thus an awkward silence pervaded each meal. The emphasis of each dinner was always on the food and the food alone. The only comments made would be on the quality of the meal, over which Marietta had slaved all day, shooing her children from the kitchen to let her do her work. On one sunny day when Erin was old enough to appreciate time by herself, she was playing in the open area on the side of the house. Thick evergreen trees shaded this spot, their dead golden needles and bristly pinecones blanketing the ground below. Erin liked to pretend that this was a barn that she worked in, gathering the hay off of the ground and feeding the animals. Erin was feeding pinecones to the horses when a man in a red car pulled up to the curb and called out to Erin.

“Hey! Little girl, come here I want to show you something.” Erin approached the car with caution, keeping in mind what she had been told about strange men in cars. When she got to the window of the car and looked inside, she was disturbed by the man’s face. He was bald with gray hair on the sides of his head and was wearing a pair of sunglasses. His thin lips parted to reveal a smile of crooked and sharpened teeth. “Come come. In the car. I have something really nice for you. Don’t you want something nice?”

The insistence of his words frightened Erin and she ran silently back towards the house, looking over her shoulder with each worried breath. She saw Hanley working in his prized garden and increased her speed. “Daddy, Daddy!” she yelled as she imagined the man grabbing her and ran faster.

“Not now,” replied Hanley without looking up from his dying tomatoes. “I’m busy just go inside.”

After checking to make sure that the man was gone, Erin ran sobbing to the kitchen. The kitchen was hot and flooded with the light of a bright afternoon. It smelled of short ribs and onions and a thick steam was emanating from a pot on the stove. Marietta was too busy reading her hand-written recipe book to even notice when her daughter ran through the screen door to the kitchen.

“Mommy, there was this man an…”

“I’m cooking. Go to your father.”

“But I just…”

“Just get out of here. I’m trying to make dinner and it would be a lot easier without all of these damned interruptions.”

Marietta barely even glanced at her daughter, for if she had she would’ve noticed Erin’s trembling hands and moist cheeks. It was through looking back on this incident and other incidents of her childhood that Erin formed a hateful view of her parents as a teenager. Erin went for nearly three years without saying anything significant to Hanley and Marietta, going out and doing all sorts of drugs just to get away from her house and feel again.

III

Hanley and Marietta’s relationship had been troubled for as long as anyone could remember. In the period during which Buzz knew them, Hanley served Marietta like a slave, driving her anywhere and everywhere, doing the housework, cooking the meals. Marietta would merely scold and tease Hanley, showing no appreciation whatsoever. In Buzz’s mind, however, their relationship was merely different, not good or bad. That was until about four months after the funeral. His Aunt Janice and his mom, Erin, were meeting for dinner at Aunt Janice’s and Buzz decided to tag along, as he had nothing better to do on a rainy Tuesday evening. On the way to Aunt Janice’s, Buzz intently stared out the window. He imagined that the outside world was flying by, powered by a giant conveyer belt constantly turning under the thin surface as he stayed stationary inside the car, which was then empty and tiny and dark. Buzz had felt distant and alone ever since Hanley had gone, the isolation magnified by the thought that Hanley was somewhere, looking upon him without truly understanding him. At Aunt Janice’s warm apartment that smelt of patchouli and ginger, there was a dinner of salad waiting.

On the table was a vase of plants, ornately arranged. Buzz had never noticed before, but the apartment was filled with plants of all sorts, emanating from pots on the windowsills, on the coffee table, on the kitchen counter, and on the appliances. Buzz felt a connection to one plant in particular. It was in a pot on the windowsill nearest to the table and had just begun to develop, its leaves and stem and beautiful grey flower reaching and aspiring to experience life and grow. The dinner conversation during the first twenty minutes of dinner was rather ordinary and covered all topics of usual dinner conversation: what the parties present had been doing lately, recent books, recent movies, recent events. Then, Aunt Janice broke the secret and unmentioned agreement not to mention Hanley or anything related to him.

“Have you seen mom lately?”

“Yeah. The other day I stopped in,” Erin replied to her empty plate.

“So…how is she?”

“Oh you know. She won’t come out of that bed, and she’s soaking up all the sympathy she can find. It’s her usual bullshit that I’m getting sick of. I’m going to tell her that soon, once the moment’s right.”

At these harsh words, Buzz looked to his plant for comfort, too shocked to endure the faces of his aunt and mom. He had finally come to that age he had been waiting for. He was no longer asked to go to the other room to let the grown-ups talk. The grown-ups’ conversations were always mysterious and enchanting from the other room; now, Buzz wished he were in the other room, imagining them rather than experiencing them.

Aunt Janice replied with a disgusted face, “Now she’s going to act like she has felt any love for him within the last 20 years. The reason she’s upset is not because her husband is dead. She’s upset that she no longer has a personal servant to cart her around and serve her every need.”

“Exactly. And now she’s going to use his death to get me to serve her alcohol at my house. I’m not going to, though. I’m not going to make it that easy for her. I just won’t. The alcohol just feeds her depression, and she won’t get herself any help. It’s gone way too far.”

At this Buzz intensified his stare. He had always known his grandmother to enjoy her alcohol more than anything else, but it had never occurred to him that she had a problem. And he had always known his grandmother to stay locked up tight in her room, much unlike the grandmothers on TV, but that was TV, where nuns flew and horses talked. Aunt Janice raged on.

‘I hate how she acts like the victim in every situation. She’s so selfish. You know, before his death I was talking to her about how she treats him. I said, ‘You know mom, you really show no appreciation for what dad does for you. He does a lot.’ And do you know what she said? She said that she was getting her revenge for all the years he mistreated her during their marriage. As if she was this terribly abused wife.”

“Did she really say that? Christ, she has no idea how good she had it. He hit her…what was it? Once? Twice? Not to say that dad was a saint, and it absolutely was a terrible thing to do, but he learned to control his anger. He did something mom is simply unable to do: he took a long and hard look at himself, found his faults, and worked on fixing them. Now she made the last 30 years of his life a living hell, and what does she have to show for it?”

A nauseas feeling overtook Buzz as he loosened his gaze from the plant and headed to the bathroom. He ran his hands under the sobering cool water and stared at himself in the mirror, trying to digest all that had been said. His face felt hot and he was lightheaded. In the mirror he saw a mere ghost of his former self, his whole view of family forever distorted.

His return from the bathroom was greeted with guilty stares.

“I’m sorry you had to hear all of that,” said Erin.

“No it’s fine,” Buzz replied so quickly that it contradicted the statement.

When he sat down, Buzz was rather certain that his little plant had grown. But its little leaves were wilting, and the stem was weaker, and its grey flower had spread and grown more distant from where it had come. This sudden growth looked unnatural, as if the plant had never intended to grow so much so suddenly.

IV

One week later, Buzz found a letter addressed to him from his grandfather, wrapped in a light blue envelope and placed in the black mailbox in front of the house. The letter made Buzz happier than anything in the world could have at that moment. He realized with a feeling of relief that his grandfather had, in fact, understood him and his complex intelligence. The letter read:

Buzz,

If you’re reading this I suppose I am dead. Worry not; I’m sure that I’m content in heaven. Please know that I will always watch over you and offer you my protection. Always remember me and my ways, the ones only you could understand. I feel that now is as good a time as any to reveal your name’s derivation. It is a fitting name indeed, as Buzz is Gaelic for “village in the woods.”

V

That night, Buzz had a vivid dream. He was in his Marietta’s bed and a teakettle was burning on her dresser. When he looked at her window screen, little black dots were evolving into flies and proceeded to fly off of the window screen and into the bed. Buzz was unable to move and the TV was blaring. The floor was covered with seaweed and sand and Miriam was crawling in it. Buzz woke up in a cold sweat.

The next day, Buzz had forgotten about his dream. He went to Marietta’s house with his mom to drop off some Irish soda bread and a gallon of V8 juice. When he arrived his grandmother was in her bathrobe, her hair a mass of knots and tangles. Marietta greeted them with kisses and thanked them for the food and drink. They made small talk for a while until Marietta, with a rarely-seen twinkle in her eye, told Buzz that she had something to show him up in her room. When he stepped through the threshold into the dimly lit room, his dream came to him. The room looked as if it had gone through both world wars: the floor was covered with newspapers and magazines while the bed had food packages and candies mixed in with the sheets. It was also the first time he could remember entering the room with the TV screen blank. The details of his dream began to become clearer as Buzz became dizzier and his throat became drier. He had to sit down on the bed, something he truly didn’t want to go within ten feet of, to stabilize himself. Marietta went to the closet and began pushing the clothes around. After a few minutes, she emerged with a book in her hand. It was a thick book with a bright red cover which read Name Derivations.

“You see? It’s not the exact one Hanley had borrowed from the library but its pretty close. I always thought that it was just cruel of him not to tell his own grandson where his name came from while he gladly told the rest of the world, so I went out and bought it for you. Now that Hanley’s gone you can now finally know.”

She had apparently never seen the letter Buzz had received. What puzzled Buzz the most was his grandmother’s willingness to go against Hanley’s wishes even after his death. Nonetheless, Buzz thanked his grandmother and put it under his bed when he got home. It would remain there, untouched, for years to come.

VI

At school, Buzz was known as the weird kid with a weird name. He had grown to accept that he would never find that one person he could always rely on. Sure, he had the kids he spent his lunches with at the lunch table reserved for the “different” kids. There was John, who seemed to drone on and on about video games, and Pat, who was morbidly overweight and never said much. The only person Buzz seemed to connect with at the table was a kid by the name of Mark. He and Mark often talked about books, movies, and music but the topics never moved beyond these. Essentially, Buzz barely even knew Mark. Buzz spent his weekends reading or watching TV and he was content with this. He had come to enjoy his weekends, unlike the other kids at his table who spent them wishing they could be getting wasted with the cooler kids. Buzz had never been wasted and had never even tried alcohol or marijuana. When he was younger, Buzz and his cousin James went into the garage at every family party and pretended that their sodas were beers. They would stumble around inside the garage, shouting obscenities and laughing uncontrollably. When they returned to the party, they would give each other wide-eyed stares as if they were saying “I’m so drunk!” Buzz often looked back on these times and considered them ironic. When James was only thirteen, he was drunk when he began riding his bike home from a party at his friend’s house. He had taken ten shots of tequila and, as he rounded a bend in the road, he didn’t see the truck heading straight for him. James was killed upon impact and his mangled body was thrown into the woods on the side of the rode. His ghost is reported to haunt this area, and Buzz often heard about the trips taken by his classmates to find the ghost of the nameless “drunk kid.”

Ever since the funeral, Buzz had purposely put the thought of Hanley out of his mind. Despite what nearly every book said about coping with death, Buzz felt that the best solution for him was to forget his memories of Hanley and the sad thoughts that accompanied them.

VII

Buzz initially noticed her on the train that was bound for Blithon. He was listening to music when she began walking, hunched over in her usual manner, down the center aisle. She reminded Buzz of a vulture, as her nose was large and her hair was jet black. She was not particularly pretty, yet Buzz was both attracted to and fascinated by her. As she passed by, their eyes met and a vision flashed before Buzz’s eyes. It was a distant memory of being on a mountain of dead yellow grass. A vulture that was gliding overhead suddenly swooped down and grabbed a dead muskrat on the ground within a few feet of him. When he got off of the train, Buzz was still thinking of her. At the record store, as he was flipping through a dusty batch of old vinyls, Buzz heard her voice.

“Hey you were on the train. I overheard what you were listening to. It was Neutral Milk Hotel right? They’re probably my favorite band. You’re gonna screw up your ears though, man. Don’t you know not to blast music coming from headphones? Oh shit, sorry I totally just sounded like my mom there.”

Buzz knew already that she was someone different. He replied with a laugh, “No its fine my mom’s always telling me to take the headphones off too. You like Neutral Milk Hotel though? That’s amazing they’re the greatest band ever. I’ve never met anyone who knows of them.”

“What can I say, I’m a well rounded person I guess. I’ve already gone through all of the vinyls by the way. There’s nothing decent left and this place is overpriced anyway. You wanna go to the park? I think I’m heading over there right now.”

“What’s going on at the park?”

“There’s no planned event or anything I just need a cigarette and like the lake there.”

At the park, Buzz learned that the girl was named Diana and that she had just moved to town a couple of weeks ago. She went to his school and was in his grade but they had never met before. When Buzz accepted a cigarette, it was not because he felt the need to impress Diana. Rather, he had wanted to try one for a while and never had the opportunity. After his first drag, Buzz began coughing uncontrollably.

“I’m guessing this is new for you,” Diana said as the thick smoke seeped through her teeth. “Are you straight edge?”

“Yeah I guess so. I’m not completely against drugs though I just haven’t tried ‘em.”

“Oh god you have to try weed. I can’t believe you’ve never gotten high. I know I barely know you but I can tell that you’d be great to smoke with. When I get high, I get like really philosophical and deep. Like I truly think that we’re all in this stew-type thing. That sounds crazy let me explain. We’re all together in this big container and all of our ideas and thoughts are floating around and being gathered by each person.”

At this point, Buzz had never felt more connected to one person. Diana’s ideas fascinated him and they were somehow logical to him.

Diana continued without pausing, “That’s why sometimes when you’re thinking about something someone will just randomly mention that exact thing. I don’t know, it is sort of crazy I guess but I just think that all of these weird occurrences in life aren’t just coincidences. Do you get what I’m saying at all?”

“Yeah completely. I’ve never thought about it that way. Did you come up with this, or is it part of some sort of religion?”

“That’s one of the theories I came up with after I smoked. No I hate religion, but I’m sort of spiritual I guess. There’s another contradiction. You know what I’ve noticed lately? Life is so full of contradictions. If you stop and look, you’ll notice and it’s pretty amazing.”

All Buzz could do was nod and smile. All he could think about was how profound she was. They exchanged phone numbers and took the train home together. Diana promised to call up Buzz once she scored some weed. Buzz felt radiant for the rest of the day.

VIII

When Buzz was five years old, his father Adam left him and his mother Erin. The reasons for Adam’s sudden departure were unknown to everyone. One morning he was simply gone. There was no note and no way of knowing where he had gone. Erin figured that he had found another woman, yet was still perplexed by the fact that Adam was never one to make sudden business trips or to stay late at work. Buzz thought that his father had finally come to realize that a suburban family life was one of monotony and superficiality. Buzz had never come to hate Adam. He felt that Adam had realized too late that he wanted to live his life differently. Buzz didn’t commend his father’s cowardly desertion of responsibility, but he understood Adam’s desire to live a fulfilled life. Adam’s family lived somewhere in northern Jersey, yet Buzz hadn’t seen any of them since his father left. The only memory Buzz had of Adam’s family was one of his grandmother Marge. According to Erin, Marge was a heavyset Italian woman who was addicted to gambling. Buzz’s memory consisted of his grandmother describing her kitchen chairs to him. He remembers sitting on one of the chairs as Marge sweated over a pot of hot marinara sauce. She was saying that her elegant and expensive chairs were specially designed in England and were the same ones that the queen used. Buzz didn’t know why this is how he remembered his grandmother, but he concluded that the human mind was a mysterious thing. The morning after he met his vulture-like friend, Buzz awoke to the sound of a woman saying “Oh, that one. She’s no good. Giving the family a bad name, let me tell you. She’s become one of those street corner ladies. So I says to her, I says, ‘If you’re not gonna stop this nonsense, then you’re not welcome at my house for Christmas.’ I mean we can’t have a sinner in our house on such a holy day. It’s not what the good Lord would want. So she says that she’ll stop and you know what? The next week, Joey Gambino our neighbor says he seen her in Newark on a street corner in some floozy get-up. So then I call up her mother and I sa…”

At this moment Buzz, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, entered the kitchen where sat Erin and a large Italian woman who he didn’t recognize. All he could say was, “Um, hi.”

“Oh my gosh, look at him. Oh he’s a man already. I’d swear that just yesterday he was crawling around and eating gum off the bottom of the tables at McDonalds. Do you remember that? Oh god what am I saying? I’m your Aunt Lisa. Come here and give me a hug.”

Buzz was received with warmth and a comforting smile. His aunt went on to ask him the usual questions about school and his interests. Soon she went right back to talking freely, something Buzz could tell she enjoyed.

“You must be wondering why I’m here. There was this Frankie Valli concert in Blithon last night. Marvelous show, that man is so full of talent let me tell you. Well anyhow, after the show, my car wouldn’t start so I had to sleep in it and had AAA come the next morning. Then I remembered that Blithon was right near Aridsville so I followed some signs and once I was in Aridsville I could find the house. I’ll tell you, that green roof is the only thing that kept me from accidentally knocking on your neighbor’s door. So here I am. I’m so happy I came I haven’t seen you in ages. You know, things are keeping us busy up there in Leonardston we haven’t had the time.”

At this point, Erin, who had remained silent and stern throughout the conversation, spoke up. “Ten years and you couldn’t find one free day? Honestly, why are you here now?”

“I just told you, I was in town. Jeeze, don’t start attacking me it’s not my fault. I always wanted to make a trip down here but no one else would come.”

Buzz went to the fridge for a drink despite his lack of thirst. He needed to get away from the tension between his mother and newfound aunt. Buzz once again wanted very badly to be sent to the next room to “let the grown-ups talk.” He also couldn’t help but feel hate for the people who called themselves his family, yet deserted him much as his father did. After a quick swig from a carton of apple cider, Buzz returned to his room without even glancing at the two arguing women at the kitchen table. Once his face was buried in his soft pillow, Buzz knew that it was safe to start crying, but wouldn’t let the tears come. He had not cried in a long time, for whenever he felt like crying, Buzz would remind himself of what other people in the world were going through at that time. After thinking about the poor of India or the sick of Africa, Buzz wouldn’t cry, yet his awful feelings only seemed to worsen. He had still not come to realize that the tears of one person should never be compared with those of others, for there will always be someone in a worse situation, and tears are too comforting for the human soul to be forced away. After a couple of minutes, Buzz heard his aunt’s voice saying comforting things as she tapped at his door. Buzz tried to be as silent as possible, unwilling to even breathe loudly. After what seemed like an eternity, Erin sternly and simply said, “I think it’d be best if you just go now.” Buzz could tell by his aunt’s loud footsteps that she was insulted. The slam of the front door confirmed this belief, and Buzz felt a sense of relief knowing that she was gone. However, he knew now how he and his mother were viewed by his father’s family, and thus the moment of relief came to an end. He began to think of what Hanley would suggest when he remembered that Hanley was to be put out of his mind altogether. Buzz’s last glimpsing thought of Hanley was the realization that he had not felt so alone since his death.

IX

The next morning Buzz woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He had one of those old black phones with a dial and an incredibly loud ringer. Je t’aime la valley. That was all he could remember of a dream he had had that night. When he answered the phone he heard her voice.

“Um hi, is this Buzz?”

“Uh yeah. Who’s this?” He knew that it was Diana but didn’t want to seem too eager to finally talk to her.

“Hey it’s Diana. Remember me from the park?”

“Oh yeah I remember.” I’ve practically been waiting by the phone for your call, he thought.

“Nice nice. So how’ve you been?”

“Not too much, what about you?” Shit! He had expected her to ask him what’s up, and had already planned out his response. Thankfully, both Buzz and Diana ignored it.

“Eh, same here. Guess what I just bought?”

“What?” Come on, please say what I think it is.

“Your honestly not gonna guess? Oh come on you’re no fun. I have now in my hand a bag of ganja.”

“What the fuck is that?” Despite what Buzz told himself, he knew deep down that he had only said “fuck,” a word he rarely used, to impress Diana. I’m not trying to be cool or anything, he told himself. I’ve always said “fuck” whenever it felt right.

“Whoa calm down there man. Ganja’s the Jamaican way of saying weed or pot or chronic or whatever you choose to call it. I just got some and I was like ‘I definitely have to call up Buzz.’ So, you wanna come over?”

“Yeah sounds good. I just have to get dressed and showered and stuff like that. So should I call you up when I’m ready?”

“Can’t wait.”

At that they hung up, and Buzz jumped back into his bed and laughed into his pillow. It was all he could do to maintain his sanity as he was overcome with happiness. He decided that he would call her back in an hour and a half, so that it didn’t seem like he was too desperate to come over and had other things to do. He called her back right on schedule and got directions to her place. When Buzz left his house, he was unable to look his mother in the eyes as he told her that he was taking the train to Blithon.

X

When Buzz found his way to Diana’s, he was greeted at the door by her father. He seemed very laid-back and had long gray hair. Completely unprepared, all he could do was stand on the doorstep with his hands in his coat pockets. Her father broke the silence and his stern tone of voice contradicted his appearance.

“Who are you?”

“Um hi I’m here to see Diana.” Buzz could feel his toes twitching and crossing over each other inside of his shoes.

“Well I know that, but you still haven’t told me your name.”

“Oh sorry I’m Buzz. Is she home? I mean I could come back later if this isn’t a good time. But I’m not saying that it seems like this is a bad time, I’m just saying that …”

“What do you and Diana plan on doing?”

“Um just hanging out I geuss.”

“Hanging out hm?” He was now eyeing Buzz up and down and Buzz knew that he looked weak and awkward and distant and deceitful. “You don’t plan on smoking pot, do you?”

At this, Buzz couldn’t even control the look of sheer fear on his face. He felt trapped in a corner, completely unable to respond. Diana’s voice then broke through the silence, like his mother’s voice soothing him out of a bad dream.

“Oh my god dad, leave him alone. Buzz please don’t mind my dad he just loves embarrassing me.”

Diana’s father broke into a fit of laughter, apologizing to Buzz between breaths. “Oh, Buzz I’m sorry I was just playing around. It really is all I have left to amuse myself with. I’m Jerry by the way”

When Buzz shook his hand, it was very warm and loose, as if he didn’t expect Buzz to squeeze as hard as he usually does to impress other people’s fathers. When he looked into Jerry’s eyes he saw wisdom and warmth.

Diana held up what Buzz would soon learn to be a “spliff” and said, “So Buzz, you wanna go smoke this out back? We’ve got this fountain right next to the porch and…”

Buzz shot a panicked glance at Jerry, still unable to understand whether Jerry had been aware that they were smoking when he answered the door.

“Oh this must seem so weird for you,” Jerry said with a small laugh. “Call me a bad parent or whatever you want, but I allow Diana to smoke. I figure that if she smokes when I’m around, I’ll be able to make sure she doesn’t make any…bad decisions I guess. Anyway, I only let her smoke weed, which has been proven to be fairly harmless, despite what the federal government wants us to think. Ah I’m going on a rant. I tend to do that sometimes.”

Buzz almost went on a rant of his own about how the government was lobbied by tobacco corporations to make marijuana illegal, but he stopped himself. He didn’t want to come off as a pompous know-it-all in front of Diana.

“You’re a really cool parent then.”

“Thanks but I don’t do it to be cool. It’s just another one of my beliefs.”

“Word.” That sounded pretty cool I hope she liked it. Diana laughed, but Jerry’s smile seemed confused and slightly stern. His face almost seemed to convey disappointment. Buzz began to feel slightly uncomfortable despite the comforting warmth and scents of the house.

Back on the porch, Buzz watched with fascination as Diana paused from their conversation to light the spliff. She inhaled and taught Buzz how to keep the smoke in the lungs for as long as possible. Initially, Buzz coughed so much that he felt sick. There were moments when he almost stopped, fueled to continue only by the desire to impress Diana. Soon the weight of gravity became heavier and heavier and the trees began swaying with a rhythm and the sky became brighter and the garden seemed to exude a warmth and…

XI

Oh the hair, it hangs in her eyes. Push it away Diana, push it away! I finally get to sit and watch the fountain. These chairs, they comfort me. The fountain. What glorious things fountains are. The water, it makes these sounds that are like the hissing of a large snake. Is that a snake there in the fountain? A water snake!? Could it be? No, nothing there. Oh here she comes to sit next to me, and our hearts seem to be beating as one. That doesn’t make sense I don’t think I should tell her I thought that. She’s talking about her philosophies and beliefs and deep thoughts and I should act like I’m listening. But now I am listening and she is amazing. She says that the universe is never-ending because it’s spherical and controlled by gravity, like the earth. The third planet. Thinking of the universe makes me feel small but I like it. Sometimes I like to feel small. Its better than feeling nothing and I tell her this and she hugs me and I think that maybe we’ll have a chance together someday. Except that her hug is a friend’s hug. A goddamned friend’s hug! There’s still time. Now we go through the door and it opens so easily for us. In the kitchen I have this soda in my hand but I don’t remember going to the fridge but I didn’t go to the fridge because her father left out two sodas on the counter for us. Did he leave a note, or has he not left? I ask her and she looks at me with a puzzle-filled face and calls his name and he answers. That’s good because I don’t see a note. She goes to the TV room to put on the TV and I sit and watch the TV and wonder why I don’t watch more TV until I remember Marietta and her bed with the candies and magazines and chaos and I don’t want to think about it anymore because I get too uncomfortable. This man on the TV, he looks like Hanley and I say this to Diana and she asks who he is but I won’t respond. I really do think about him too much and I get filled with sadness and anger and forget but the sadness seems to permeate deep dark spots of my mind and lingers there always. But I tell myself I forget. No, I do forget and will soon forget everything and never think about it again. I think Diana thinks I’m weird but when I look at her she smiles and it’s a real smile I know this much. The TV really does have some amazing combination of colors and the commercials are so shocking but they don’t trick me I hate all of the products except for these ice cream makers which actually look pretty nice. I think of homemade ice cream and then remember to forget him and get angry at myself and tell myself its one of the last times it’ll happen. I won’t allow it anymore. I look at Diana and she’s laying with her eyes closed and I imagine kissing her and touching her and reaching lower and lower but I feel like a peeping Tim or Tom or whatever it is and I just go back to looking at the TV. The TV, it comforts me like the chairs and now that I think about it, the fountain comforted me too so I should add it to the list. TV, chairs, fountain. What else? Can I put anything else? Just because I can’t think of anything else doesn’t mean there is nothing else. Oh wait, there is one other thing but I’m not allowed to think of it, or should I say him. But no, I won’t allow myself to think of him or anything like that because it’s not good for me or my mind or my mom. What about her? On the list she goes. So now it’s TV, chairs, fountain, Erin. Or mom. It should be changed to mom. Erin sounds distant. I’m looking at Diana , way too sick of the TV for now. I have to shake her and wake her and tell her I’m going because I want my bed but don’t want to be rude and have to say goodbye. I say I’m leaving but there’s no hug and I don’t think she hears me so I say it louder and she opens her eyes and says goodbye. I leave and gravity is pushing down so hard on me that I fear that gravity is mad at me.

XII

“Where have you been?” asked Erin as Buzz carefully strolled into the kitchen.

“Blithon. Remember? I took the train in before.” Oh no. She knows. She must know. My voice is so weird I’m being so obvious and she seems suspicious. I’m so stupid to come home so early I should’ve walked around longer.

“Yeah I remember. You’re just usually back sooner. What’d you do?”

She’s just playing dumb, she knows. She knows! Why does she have to ask so many questions? “You know, just walked around, looked through some record places.” “Looked through some record places”? Does that even make sense? I’m acting like a complete idiot and she knows that there’s something going on.

“That sounds kinda boring. Why don’t you ever invite anyone to go with you?”

“I don’t know, I just like to go alone. There’s a bunch of people that ask me to go with them but it’s just something I prefer to do while by myself.” Buzz had always managed to tell Erin all about his friends that didn’t exist. He knew that she had begun to doubt their existence after countless Saturday nights left Buzz in front of a book or movie. Now that he had found Diana, Buzz could bring her around and Erin could believe that she didn’t raise a loser.

“Listen, I’m going to meet Nana and Aunt Janice for dinner at the Blithon Inn. Do you want to come along? I think they’d really want to see you.”

“Yeah sounds good. When we going?”

“Why are you talking like that?”

Oh my god she’s just laying it all out. Alright calm down. Calm down, relax, and act normal. If she asks if you smoked, just looked shocked and appalled and look her in the eyes. “Like what?” Buzz said, trying to mask his fear and helplessness.

“I don’t know. Just more like a kid. Like using slang I guess. It’s just not how you usually talk, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess your right. Can we go now though? I’m pretty famished.” Buzz did all he could to sound normal to Erin again. He was still extremely high and just wanted to go to sleep but didn’t want to seem suspicious.

“Yeah I’m ready. Just let me get my purse. Go wait in the car.”

Buzz sat in the car and waited for what seemed like an eternity. He contemplated beeping the horn when Erin finally emerged from the house. Hesitant to arouse any suspicion, Buzz sat silent during the car ride to the Blithon Inn.

Erin remarked, “You’re quiet tonight.”

“Yup,” was the only response that Buzz could think of. Once we get to the restaurant, mom should be distracted by grandma’s drinking and Aunt Janice won’t have anything to suspect. Things will go better than expected.

XIII

The first thing that Buzz and Erin heard as they entered the smoky bar of the Blithon Inn was the sound of Marietta’s voice.

“…haven’t had one drink you damned fool. Fucking bartender, what the hell do you know? You’ll give me what I want or I’ll be…”

“Mom!” shouted Aunt Janice desperately. She turned to the bartender and her words dripped with sincere empathy. “I’m really sorry sir, she really isn’t usually like this. I’ll be getting her home once my sister gets here.”

“Janice I’m right here.”

“Oh thank god. Mom’s drunk and we need to bring her home in your car. I walked from the train and she took a cab and we have to go.”

“Wha--?Why the hell did you let her get drunk? What were you thinking? Honestly, tell me what you were thinking.”

“Can we just get her out of here and we’ll talk in the car.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Marietta said in a voice so strong it seemed impossible to have emanated from her petite and dainty figure.

Much to the embarrassment of Erin and Janice, Marietta had to be dragged from the restaurant. For Buzz, the experience had been dreamlike and stressful. In the car, the tension raged on.

“Tell me, Janice, why did you let her get drunk? What the hell happened for Christ’s sake!?”

“Don’t you dare use the Lord’s name in vain. I never raised you like this, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Oh, the blasphemy.” Marietta always turned on the theatrics when it came to the “good Lord.”

Janice responded, ignoring Marietta’s outburst, “She came drunk Erin! I knew it the second she stumbled out of the taxi.”

“So she comes drunk and you take her inside to the bar! Explain to me how that makes sense.”

“I didn’t want to wait out in the cold with her and didn’t want to get a table since I knew that we would have to leave once you finally showed up. What the hell took you so long?”

“Don’t you dare try and turn some of the blame on me. Jesus, how fucking old are we? Will you ever just mature Janice?”

“How can you talk like that in front of your son? And, by the way, you have quite a bit of maturing to do. For starters, how about trying to listen to people and make considerations before jumping down their throats. You’re so frigging close-minded.”

Erin exploded, “Get out of my car. Out! Out of the car!”

“Are you kidding? What about mom? What are…”

“I’ll take care of mom, just get out of the fucking car, I really just cannot deal with your attacks right now.”

“How do you expect me to get home?”

“Leave the way you came.” At that, Janice slammed the door and Marietta began crying. Buzz felt like he had just survived an extremely surreal scene from a play. The drama of the situation seemed almost staged to him, as if Aunt Janice was going to come back into the car telling Marietta that her fake crying could use some work. When the reality of the tears set in, Buzz felt that things could never be the same between him and Janice, or him and Marietta for that matter.

After Buzz and Erin had eased Marietta into bed, they headed home. Stopped in front of a stoplight, her face drenched in red light, Erin began sobbing. The sobbing became louder and louder until it seemed to break from the car and float upwards towards the heavens. Buzz felt tears coming and knew he couldn’t stop them. Quietly crying, Buzz looked at himself in the rear-view mirror and hated the sight of his own face. Over and over in his head, the same words kept repeating: Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.

XIV

The following day, Buzz awoke to his mother’s harsh yet hushed voice. He knew the voice well and could picture her tight and tense face as she spoke. Walking down the cold wood stairs, Buzz heard bits and pieces of the conversation and reasoned that she was talking to Aunt Janice. When he got to the doorway of the living room, Buzz was greeted with a frenzied look from Erin, the phone firmly attached to her ear.

“Well, Buzz is up now. Here Buzz, Aunt Janice is on the phone and wants to talk to you.” She handed him the phone and walked off loudly and hastily.

On the phone Aunt Janice asked Buzz if he wanted to go to the movies with her. Buzz felt weird about going out with her, considering the events of the previous night, but agreed to go nonetheless. Buzz feared that if he had declined, she would’ve known exactly why. When she arrived at the house, Janice stayed in the driveway and beeped the horn instead of walking to the door. Buzz preferred this somewhat, as he didn’t want to see another event such as last night’s. Buzz also thought that this was yet another sign of the decaying relationship between Janice and Erin, which was lessening Aunt Janice’s opinion of him. Buzz was greeted with a kiss and a smile and they made their way to the movies. Stopped at a red light, at a lull in conversation, Aunt Janice finally said what she had wanted to say.

“Buzz, how have you been dealing with Hanley’s death? I mean, I know you guys were close and everything.”

“Yeah, I’m doing pretty well I guess.” Why did you have to bring this up? As if things weren’t already awkward between us.

“Are you? That’s good. I’m sure everyone has been telling you this but it’s important to try to remember the good times you had with him. I remember this one time…well you’ve probably already heard this story but I’ll tell it again.”

“Which is it?”

“’The Gap’ in England one.”

Buzz’s bewildered face said that he hadn’t and Aunt Janice continued with an uncharacteristically big smile.

“Well, me, your mother, grandma, and grandpa were in England and in England they drive on the opposite side of the road. Well, we had rented a car and Hanley was always the one to drive it because he thought that he was the only one who could handle it. So this one day I was like, ‘Dad, I’m driving today.’ And he was really uncomfortable with it but I had my way. So all four of us are on this road in some town and the road is pretty crowded with cars. I’m trying to get into the other lane but can’t see any room. So then, your grandfather says, ‘There’s a Gap, Janice.’ And I was like, ‘There’s a gap dad, are you sure.’ And he says, ‘Yes, there’s a Gap.” So, thinking that there’s a gap, I turn into the next lane as one of those big red buses is coming up fast. All I hear is the bending of metal and my heart stops. Thankfully, the bus only side-swiped the car, but there was this huge red mark on the side. Me and Hanley didn’t talk for the rest of the day until it came up again at dinner that night. So I went off on him, I was like, ‘Dad, you said that you saw a gap so I thought I could go.” So then he was like, “What are you talking about I never said that I saw a gap.” And so everyone told him that he had said it and his eyes widened and he was like, ‘I meant that I had seen The Gap, as in the store. I found it worth pointing out that they have them in England.’” Aunt Janice and Buzz both began laughing, Aunt Janice’s filling the car with loud shrieks. Buzz felt some guilt with himself; felt that he was betraying the promise he had made to disregard all thoughts involving Hanley. After the movie, parked in front of the house, Buzz saw a new side of his aunt.

“You know, Buzz, Hanley was just a wonderful grandfather. As a father, though, he could’ve been better, but that’s over now. It’s just that you two were so close, and when he died, you didn’t really seem to have a reaction. It’s just been on my mind a lot and it worries me.” Tears began to surge to Janice’s eyes and Buzz pretended not to notice. He fixed his gaze on a crack in the windshield to avoid looking into his aunt’s glossy eyes. “I don’t mean to get all dramatic here but I just don’t want you to forget abou…” At this point, Janice was unable to continue, the rush of emotion overtaking her ability to speak. At last she managed to say, “I’m sorry. You can go if this is uncomfortable.”

“Um ok. I’m gonna go then Aunt Janice. I’ll see you some other time.” At that, Buzz closed the car door and left his aunt, weeping alone in the car on the driveway.

XV

“What did you and your aunt talk about? Huh? Speak up? What did she say to you? Tell you that you have a terrible mother? What was she saying about me?”

“Mom, what’s wrong with you? Are you drunk mom? Jesus, are you drunk?”

“Don’t talk to me like that I’m your mother. The one who birthed you. And no, I’m not. I am completely sober. Mark my words.”

Erin had a glass behind her which she thought that she was slyly hiding from Buzz’s sight. He saw the glass though and felt that he should’ve stayed home and not deserted his mother.

“Mom, I’m going to bed. You should try to get some sleep too.”

“What do you think of me now? Whatever she says is lies. All lies.”

“Goodnight mom.” For the second time that night, Buzz left someone he loved to cry alone and in the dark.

XVI

Buzz is on a baseball field and he is the pitcher. Aunt Janice is playing behind him and she is screaming.

“Throw it and hit her. Throw it as hard as you can.”

In the bleachers sit a group of people dressed as vegetables. There are carrots and cucumbers and eggplants and celery stalks. They seem to be baking in the sun, the metal bleachers reflecting the sunlight and browning the vegetables.

Erin steps to the plate and yells back to Aunt Janice.

“Stay out of this. It’s between me and him.”

Buzz throws four pitches, all of them outside of the plate. Erin begins to laugh, throwing her head back and letting her helmet fly from her head and onto the bleachers. A carrot and cucumber fight over the helmet until it disintegrates into an ash that is blown away by the wind. Erin’s mad laughter halts suddenly and she begins to cry. Her tears are blue and they begin to flood home plate. Buzz can hear Aunt Janice behind him, also sobbing. The clouds join in and a cold rain begins to fall. As the rain hits the vegetables, it sizzles on their hot surfaces. The Buzz turns back to Erin as she begins running towards him, ready to attack. When Buzz turns to Aunt Janice, her face is contorted into a snarl and Buzz realizes that he is trapped between the two. The vegetables begin to burn and then laugh, forming a collection of shrill cackles that seem to float from the bleachers, now covered in a thin orange haze.

XVII

Buzz remembered nothing of his dream; he only remembered waking up terrified in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep. When dawn came, he stared out of his window at the glowing sun and thought about how many other people were looking at the sun and found it so sobering and tranquil. It looked like a tangerine covered in glowing embers, floating in the pink sky. At that moment, Buzz felt overwhelmed with emotion after realizing the beauty of the scene in front of him. He fell back into a deep sleep and stayed unconscious until the afternoon. He awoke to Erin shaking him and handing him the phone. Diana’s voice made him wake up faster than usual.

“Mike! Where have you been? And where did you go?”

“Ha-ha. What do you mean?”

“The other day, when you came over, I woke up and you were just gone. You had just straight out left. What was that all about?”

Checking to make sure that Erin wasn’t outside of his door, Buzz responded, “What can I say? I guess I was just pretty fucked up. Can we smoke again some time soon?”

“Why do you think I was calling?”

“I don’t know, maybe just to talk.”

“Yeah, well that too. But listen, I’m buying it this morning from this kid I met in Blithon. He’s gonna come over and smoke some blunts with us. Is that cool?”

Buzz’s heart sank. He could already tell that this unnamed kid could divert Diana’s interest. Buzz attempted to mask the extreme disappointment in his response. “Yeah, I’d be cool with that.”

Buzz was soon in front of the door, waiting for what seemed like hours. Had he pressed the doorbell hard enough? Should he press it again? He didn’t want to seem too impatient, yet he wanted to be in the warm house with Diana. When she answered the door, Buzz’s competition was standing next to her. He was tall and had black hair and looked like a burnout. Buzz soon learned that his name was Rob and that he was going to the community college. He was seven years older than both Diana and Buzz, and seemed to look down upon Buzz as someone inferior. When they met, Rob barely made eye contact as he mumbled a heartless “hi.” He and Diana were already stoned.

“You wanna go out back and hit his bong? Robbie brought his bong and it is amazing you gotta try it.”

“Hold up,” Rob cut in. “First, you have to do that thing for me before your dad gets back.”

“Oh yeah. Buzz we’ll be back in like ten minutes.” She turned to Rob and said with a little smile, “Where to, Robbie?”

“You got a bedroom?”

Rob led the way upstairs and Diana followed, leaving Buzz in the kitchen. His curiosity instantly got the best of him and Buzz crept upstairs and stood silently outside of the door. Inside, he heard Diana’s muffled voice.

“So wait, what do I do? I’ve never done this before.”

“I haven’t either, you think I can give you tips on it?”

“Well, you’ve had it done before, so what did it feel like she was doing?”

“I don’t know. Just put your mouth on it and start sucking and moving it up and down. Shit, I don’t know. Here, let me…that feels right.”

Buzz felt sick and naïve and foolish for ever thinking that he would have a chance with Diana. He looked back upon their relationship and began to think that she had hated him the whole time, using him only as a person to get high with and then forget about. Buzz couldn’t bear to listen to the noises emanating from the room and went down the stairs and out the front door. He stood on the porch and felt the blood rush to his face and wanted to cry. His thoughts were spinning and Buzz felt complex emotions: rage, fear, sorrow, stupidity, helplessness, confusion. When Diana finally did come out, Buzz hid his emotions from her like a little kid hiding a stolen cookie from his mother.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

“I thought I heard someone on your porch, so I just came out here to see what it was. I guess it was just a squirrel or something.”

“Ha-ha. A squirrel. You wanna go out back now? Robbie’s already out there.”

“I thought you said his name was Rob.”

“It is. What, you’ve never heard a Rob being called Robbie?”

“When did you meet him?”

“Yesterday in Blithon. I thought I told you all of this on the phone. Whatever, lets get back there.”

In the back by the fountain, Buzz smoked his emotions away.

XVIII

Back on the road again, or , no, its on the porch again. This fountain, I can’t get enough of it I know I thought about it last time and now I’m thinking about it again so maybe this is déjà vu but I don’t think it’s déjà vu because it doesn’t have that weird feeling. The magical déjà vu feeling. They’re standing too close. It’s too close I feel like an old nun or a schoolteacher with a ruler but I know that they’re standing too close they should be separated. Maybe I should do the separating but I can’t handle that burden. Here he is, the man of the hour. Diana’s father has come through the door, I hope he brought treats like pastries or sodas. Why not come home ten minutes ago? Then little Robbie here would’ve had a lot of splainin’ to do as the “I Love Lucy” guy says it. What’s the father’s name again? Jerry I think. Oh well, he isn’t talking to me anyway so I don’t have to say that name of his. Diana, why so solemn with that father of yours? Afraid he sees it in your eyes, you fucking slut? I bet all crack whores start out like this. I guess I’ll just have to see. It’s a shame when the marvelous mary jane can’t even suppress the anger I feel. Diana is looking more and more like that vulture I saw scoop up the dead muskrat on the mountain of yellow grass. And oh yes, she has found that muskrat, that dead piece of nothing with no spirit and no feelings. She has found her muskrat and is standing too close to him.

XIX

After days of giving endless descriptions of Diana to Erin, Buzz finally saw his opportunity to introduce the two. Erin was planning a spontaneous family get-together in light of the recent fights. It was to be held at her house and Erin planned on cooking a huge Sunday dinner. Buzz immediately seized the opportunity and asked Erin if Diana could come. Wow. Maybe she actually does exist, this Diana girl, thought Erin. For years she had heard stories about a colorful group of characters that Buzz tried to pass of as his friends. She had never, however, actually seen any of these people, causing her to believe that they were made up. On the day of the dinner, Buzz was unable to bring himself to call Diana. He kept pacing back and forth in his room, clenching the phone so hard that his knuckles began to turn white. After several minutes of staring at the phone, Buzz finally worked up the nerve to call her.

“Hello?”

“Um, hi, um, Diana?” Did my voice just squeak? Shit I think my voice just squeaked when I said “Diana.”

“Uh yeah. Who’s this?”

“Oh, this is, um, Buzz.”

“Oh hey Buzz.” Could she sound any less excited to talk to me?

“Hey, um, what are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight? Tonight, tonight, tonight, let me see…It’s a Sunday? Yeah, uh, nothing I don’t think.”

“Really, because if you don’t want to its fine, I mean I don’t care, but I’m having this thing at my house tonight. It’s like this family dinner thing and I was just thinking that like it would be better if you were there. But I don’t know if you don’t want to it really doesn’t…”

“No it sounds cool I’ll come.”

“Really? Alright great.”

“Yeah. I mean, I just have to clear it with my dad but it’s not like he’s gonna say no or anything.”

“Okay so I guess you should just come around 6. Or whenever’s good for you.”

“That sound good. Listen, I’ve got a pretty fat joint rolled up. Should I bring it tonight?”

“Yeah but just don’t bring anything else. Like my mom said I could only have one person over.”

“Yeah no I wasn’t planning on bringing anyone else.” An awkward silence took over the conversation at this point and Buzz made up an excuse to hang up and did so.

That night, Diana was the first to arrive. Erin greeted her with open arms and secretly looked her up and down, judging her. The dining room was dimly lit, the soft candlelight bouncing off of the light brown walls. Diana Buzz and Erin sat at the dining room table as Erin asked Diana question after question. Buzz, who had always been easily embarrassed by Erin, was furious about her unending questions despite his seemingly happy face. At the ring of the doorbell, Erin attended to the door and Diana turned towards Buzz.

“Your mom’s really nice.”

“No she’s just annoying.”

“What are you…” Aunt Janice’s entry into the room stopped the words coming out of Diana’s mouth.

After a brief greeting and an even briefer introduction to Diana, Buzz began to stare at his place setting in an attempt to avoid the awkwardness that seemed to hang in the air at the table. This was the exact type of dinner that Erin remembered as a child and had worked so hard to ensure that Buzz never experienced. No sounds were made, except for the sipping of wine made at odd intervals. Diana, unaware of the current family feuds, was unable to pinpoint exactly why things were so uncomfortable at the table. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the four at the dining room table, Marietta was finishing her last Dewars old fashioned and climbing into a taxi. She knew that she needed a few drinks to get through a dinner with her two daughters, and Erin had refused to serve her alcohol since her last liver failure. When the doorbell finally rang, each party at the table let out a sigh of relief. When Marietta walked into the dining room, she could tell that things had not been going well. When dinner finally commenced and the silver covering had been lifted from the spiced ham, there was not a sound heard but the clinking of utensils and the occasional request for someone to pass the salt or pepper.

This could be going worse, thought Erin. I mean, we could be fighting. Meanwhile, Buzz was less optimistic. This could not be going worse. Oh god, Diana must think that we’re such freaks. Why won’t anyone just say something? Anything. As if reading Buzz’s mind, Aunt Janice finally broke the silence, her voice sounding completely out of place at what had become a silent dinner.

“This is pretty good.”

“You sound surprised,” Erin replied quickly.

“I’m just trying to give you a compliment.”

“No, you see, you’re incapable of giving me a true compliment. I don’t know if its jealousy or whatever, but this dinner couldn’t be good or even great. No, no. This dinner is pretty good. Do you even realize how you come across?”

“I have no idea where you’re getting that from. I was merely trying to give a compliment. You seem to be looking for a fight.”

“No, but I will not be disrespected in my own house, by my own sister nonetheless.”

“I need a drink,” Marietta muttered just loud enough so that it was audible, but soft enough to make it appear that she had said it to herself.

When Buzz could no longer deal with the embarrassment, he excused himself and Diana from the table and led the way to the back porch.

“You got that joint?”

Diana dug through her purse until she recovered the joint and held it up like a trophy. In that joint Buzz saw more than just thin white paper and bits of dried plant. In that joint was salvation from the fights inside. In that joint was a chance to get as far as he wanted with Diana. In that joint was an end to thoughts about how much he was hated by others. Buzz needed that joint and at once began to light it before asking Diana if he could have the first hit. Buzz took hit after hit before passing the joint to a confused Diana, who took it and pushed it between her pursed lips.

XX

I want to go inside I think its cold outside and I just want to go inside. Its cold out here and Diana’s face is somehow cold too and I think she hates me. There go those thoughts, those thoughts about hates. But there are just too many who hate. Too many. I just want to go to my room and be with Diana alone and away from the animals at the dining room table who keep clawing at each other and fighting like in a jungle or in the zoo if they opened up the cages of the zoo and the animals came together and didn’t like each other. We should go inside just me and her.

“Hey, you want to go inside? We’ll go up to my room.”

“Yeah it’s getting sort of hot out here.”

Up the stairs and we’ll pretend like we don’t hear the yelling in the dining room. What is going to come of all of this? This fighting, this war. War of the animals. What good will come of it? Finally in my room and I’m ready to shine. Sit on the bed and hope she follows suit! Here she comes and she’s sitting next to me and I really should make my move. Do it now or forever hold your peace.

“Diana I just have to say that I really like you. Like a lot. And I think we’re good friends.”

“Oh, I think so too Buzz.”

So now I think I’m tilting towards her and yes I am tilting towards her and I’m closing my eyes and tilting more but hitting nothing and I feel foolish and open my eyes and there she is with apologies written all over her face. Fake fucking apologies.

“Buzz, I think you have it all wrong. I mean you’re a really cool guy but I don’t think of you that way.”

“Oh alright.” No it’s not alright. What, you’ll suck the cock of some guy you barely know but won’t even touch me? Am I that atrocious? “You know what, no. It’s not alright. Who the fuck do you think I am? Some guy you can just push around? Well I’m not.”

“Buzz, I…”

“You know what, I have feelings. I feel. And your games are just too hurtful and just…ahhhhg.” Take this lamp and throw it at the wall, yes I will, and it shatters like my expectations but this doesn’t make me feel much better and now she’s scared but I don’t care because I hate her. “You’ve hated me ever since we met. I knew it. You hate me just like my aunt and the people at school and my dad and my dad’s family and everyone else who has ever fucking met me. Just use me to smoke with. Well I won’t be used. And I’m not an idiot. And I won’t be used anymore.”

“Buzz you’re scaring me. Look, we should talk this out. Just do me a favor and sit down and stop throwing things.”

My floor is littered with all the things that I have thrown but I need more because this pain and humiliation and anger and frustration have not broken as easily as these things. These things that are all over but feel nothing and I must break more of them and now that I am she is running from my room and how will I explain this to my mother? And my aunt and grandmother will look down at me and see a psycho and ship me off and never mention me again and be ashamed to even think about me and abandon my mother and she’ll be all alone and hate me because I brought all of this upon her. I have to end it all. Just end it all. Quick solution to everything. I cannot live with myself after this humiliation and I am so hated that it would be doing many favors. And I will be free from the shackles of time and be free from living and be free from this hateful place we inhabit. So I should say my goodbyes in my mind and I can finally think about Hanley as much as I want and it won’t mess me up because I will be leaving soon anyway and this is such a relief. I truly have made up my mind in matter of seconds but there’s no turning back and I don’t even feel high anymore, as the thrill and expectations of escape have blurred reality in a way that wasn’t induced by the weed. I know where mom keeps the revolver and I’ve always hated having a gun in the house until now. I take my final steps and I will just do it in no fancy way in the middle of my room because I deserve no better. It’s in my mouth and the metal is cold yet sweet and inviting and my index finger rests on the trigger and I wait and listen and think and begin to shake. The shaking makes the gun rattle against my teeth and this is the last sound I hear I suppose because I’m pulling the trigger now and things go black and my body relaxes. There in the distance is Hanley and I begin running towards him but he’s running farther into the darkness and when I finally reach him he is being pulled into a machine with a glowing red hole that works as a vacuum. The machine tears him up and spits him out and he’s screaming for me to help him but I can’t and begin to cry. This happens again and again and again and now I’m realizing that I have made a mistake and taken myself too early and this horrible repetition is my punishment. I needed more time living the life that was not so horrible now that I think about it. The village in the woods is burning and I have set the fire. Now the endless cycle has ended and there is nothing but darkness and nothing is happening. It stays this way as I loose touch with myself and am soon lost forever and I know I won’t be returning but will be simply gone.

XXI

The following is an excerpt from the March 22, 2000 issue of the Blithon Times:

On the night of March 20, 2000, a quiet Sunday family dinner was interrupted with a loud gunshot. At about 7:42 PM, Erin Persad, 35, found her son Buzz, 15, in his room, face up and covered in blood. He had shot himself through the throat with a .45 handgun and no note was found. When the ambulance arrived, they found that his heart and brain were still functioning. Buzz stayed alive for about an hour until he died at 9:04 in the hospital. The community as a whole has been swept into a state of mourning and a monument has been set up in front of Buzz’s high school. Upon recent count, about 2,000 flowers have been placed in Buzz’s memory here and the pile continues growing. According to one unnamed classmate, who was with Buzz mere minutes before his unfortunate suicide, “Buzz was just this really wonderful person. I had become really close with him, and we are all [going to] miss him a lot. I just can’t believe…” The anonymous friend was unable to continue without erupting into tears. According to this person, Buzz began throwing things about his room in a fit of anger when he or she ran from the house, scared for his or her own safety. Minutes later, 15-year-old Buzz Persad had shot himself. Both Buzz’s friend and family members have been questioned by the police but immediately released. His death has been officially ruled a suicide. Buzz’s mental health is still being investigated, and many psychologists believe that Buzz suffered from a serious case of undiagnosed depression. The funeral of Buzz Persad will be held at the St. Handley church in Blithon. Buzz’s entire class is expected to attend, each person bringing a flower to commemorate a lost friend. Buzz was a key member of the community and will be remembered and mourned by all who knew him.