August 25th, 2007
7:48 am

So good to wake to the sound of rain. Drops thrumming against the house. To look out the window and see the brown beaten grass fighting to drink it all up. To get back to being green.

Good to wake feeling strong and clear headed. Ready to tap into it. Another day filled with chance. So that we may reach beyond this not-so-simple act of survival and get busy at something more than dying.

**

Maggie had changed. Come downstairs. And was standing in the kitchen. Wearing one of my old Pearl Jam t-shirts and her red plaid pajama bottoms.

'It's always about the chase, with you,'� she said.

'How's that?'�

I opened the oven. Took another look at the small bird that would be our first Thanksgiving dinner, then went to work pouring her a glass of wine.

'It's about the chase,'� she said. 'Now that we're together, the intensity is gone.'�

This was another in a long list of comments she'd been making all day. I yanked the cork out of the bottle. Felt like raising it up and chugging it all down.

'Oh, I don't know'�'� I kidded. 'A day spent at your grandparents, my folks, and then back home for football on the tube, turkey in the oven, and a few drinks feels pretty intense to me.'�

'You aren't as serious as I thought you'd be.'�

Maggie sipped the wine. Made a sour face. Set it on the counter.

'I'm serious about plenty of things,'� I said.

I cracked open a bottle of Guinness. Poured it into a glass. Watched as the creamy head rose up rounded, then settled even with the rim. It was one of the most simple, but prettiest things I'd ever seen.

'You're serious about that,'� she said, and she turned on her heel and went to sit on the love seat in the living room.

I heard the television come on. Listened as she flipped through channels. When she reached Home and Garden TV she stopped and turned it up. I took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. Took a long drink of beer. Then turned and looked out the window.

Tiny white flakes were swirling round. Falling to the frozen ground. Other than that, everything was still. The trees. The dead leaves. Even the pair of doves on the power line. They looked like statues fixed there. Decoys to invite other birds in. So that they would land and stick. Be immobilized by the secret juice racing beneath their talons.

We were in between seasons. Not quite winter, but autumn done and gone, and I liked it. Being smack dab in the middle of something that could not easily be defined. That did not have a name. But she did not like it. Any of it. And it was becoming more and more clear.

**

'Look at that ring,'� she had whispered, as we stood by the fireplace in my parents' house watching my future sister-in-law show off the glinting rock that was five months of my brother's salary.

'It's a ring, all right.'�

We'd only been dating for six months, but already Maggie had been online, bookmarking pages about the 4 C's.

Cut
Color
Clarity
Carat Weight

I stood there watching the mess. And I thought of how disconnected we'd all become. From love and truth and the meaning that waits beneath the surface of shiny things. But none of my thinking seemed to matter. My brother was kicked back in a recliner. Eating a bowl of nuts. Watching a parade on TV. My Dad was sacked out on the couch. Half asleep. When our eyes met, he shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and moved his groggy gaze to the big balloons moving across the screen.

Maggie looked at me. I smiled. She gave me a poke in the ribs.

'It must be nice to be in a relationship that's going somewhere.'�

'We're going places. Just wait and see.'�

'I might get tired of waiting,'� she said. And she turned away to join my Mom so they could faun over the ring.

'It's beautiful!'� Maggie shrieked.

My Dad grunted. My brother chomped more nuts. I stared out the window at the neighbor's house. I could see them inside. A young couple and a little kid. Already decorating a Christmas tree.

'That's gotta be fake,'� I said.

'ADEN!!'� my Mom shouted.

I pointed out the window.

'The tree, Mom. I'm talking about the neighbor's Christmas tree.'�

'Oh, they're crazy,'� she said, 'The way they're rushing things.'�

**

'Are you coming or not?'� Maggie shouted from the love seat.

'Be there in a minute! I gotta baste the turkey!'�

'Whatever,'� she muttered. And the TV volume increased. A newlywed couple had purchased an old country home and were in the process of trying to fix it up.

'This used to be a library,'� the cheerful host said. 'But now it's going to be a nursery!'�

There was much laughter and excitement and the program faded to a commercial about spending quality time with the family by purchasing a crystal clear blue oval of happiness from swimmingpool.com.

'You should get a pool!'� Maggie shouted.

'I can't afford that!'� I said.

'I thought you were more established!'� she said.

'Established?'� I shouted back.

And I wanted to shout more. Something about how odd it was to have swimming pool commercials during this time of year, and how I was sick and tired of her wanting so much, and that I didn't want to live a life of buying things, and that I was as established as I could be working a job I hated to pay bills and make ends meet while trying very hard to write stories at night and on weekends so that maybe I could reach some people so all of us could feel better about being alive, and that I wished she would just change the fucking channel to the football game that I'd been waiting all day, all week, all year for. But I didn't say a word.

I opened the oven. The bird was fine. Golden brown and delicious. Simmering in flavor enhancing juices. Far, far away from the freedom it once had before it was immobilized, made into a statue, caged for us to consume.

'Bird looks great!'� I shouted, but there was no response. Only a little more volume from the TV.

I stared out the kitchen window. Drank more beer. Watched tiny flakes grow and grow and was amazed at how suddenly the sky could disappear.

~ k.j.

(copyright 2007 by k.j. stevens)

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