Read Online A Map of Tulsa by Benjamin Lytal - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Benjamin Lytal
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prayed to God with relief when I finally came back and saw the lights of a house and, untangling myself from the branches, could confirm it was Albert’s.
I found some chicken on the grill, cold, wrapped in foil. I ate it with my fingers, and sat on the porch, staring into the woods. I wished I could just sit and guard the house, like a dog.
Finally I went in.
There were shapes up in the living room, dancers, trying to make a night of it. Edith sat in the kitchen, part of a big card game. I went in and got a glass of whiskey, but made eye contact with no one.
Later, having curled up under a desk in some upstairs storage room, I woke. I heard voices from below. So people were still awake. I had been drooling, and frondsof acrylic carpet were sticking to my lips. I rose, and veered out into the hall.
I met Jenny on the staircase, and we abruptly sat down. As if we had planned to meet. Jenny sat on a step below me and I started to tell her about the banister: turned wood uprights carved into the shape of pineapples, and beneath the pineapples some other kind of wooden flourishment. She was really paying attention. The only way I could explain it to her, I said, was the way toy soldiers would use the banister to convey themselves down if they were invading the ground floor, swinging from pineapple to pineapple with grappling hook and line. Sometimes, alas, plummeting away to the soft carpet below. Poof. And then silence. Jenny gripped my knee. Then we opened our mouths partway, lined up, and kissed.
I was screwed around like a bird, to kiss her; despite the terrible sleep-taste in my mouth she was locked on me; she took my face in her hands and immediately scooted up to my step, quite competent. At least it’s something that’s happened, I said to myself. It was Jenny who stood us up, and suggested we go out and watch the sun rise. As we flew out the door I plucked a bottle of gin off the table, and she swept up an afghan on top her head. It felt like the sky was lightening faster than we could cross the yard.
The next night was similar. After a dull day of campfire chatter, and the ceaseless back-and-forth of new people up from town, band people off to the studio, and after the much-hyped assembly of turducken, I was fading into thebackground, having drunk all afternoon; I found myself heading upstairs again, taking the stairs in giant steps, slowly, wobbling, turning into the same storage room, and curling up for a nap just the same, shortly after dark. I slept for a long time. And when I woke up, deep in the night, with the carpet imprinted on the side of my face, it felt like time had looped, and I resolved to myself to do something good with my life, to break the loop.
I didn’t go down the stairs this time but continued around the landing, and careened truly innocently into a bedroom where the light was on. Beneath the light, Adrienne and Chase lay there sleeping. They were strewn on the bed below me, covered with blankets. I was riveted. I stood there with a rocky feeling on my face. I stood and studied Adrienne’s nose, pressed flat on its side, an intense rose color smushed on the white pillowcase. Adrienne cracked an eye.
But it was Chase who got it together and unfurled an arm to greet me. “Join us,” he said, his voice hoarse.
I didn’t believe it.
“Come on,” said Chase. “Come get some sleep?”
They weren’t touching; they were sleeping in different halves of the bed. I stepped out of my shoes.
To climb in, I had to plant my knee and hand beside Chase. Then I hesitated. “Should I turn out the light?”
Chase smiled, amused. “Yes.”
Then I made my way back to the bed and, planting a knee without touching Chase, I tried to bridge across them to get down on the far side of Adrienne. She rolled away, however. And then Chase just pulled me down like a dog. He laid his arm across me. “It’s cool,” he said.He fumbled with the sheets, and I helped him. We were all three tucked in now.
I found some chicken on the grill, cold, wrapped in foil. I ate it with my fingers, and sat on the porch, staring into the woods. I wished I could just sit and guard the house, like a dog.
Finally I went in.
There were shapes up in the living room, dancers, trying to make a night of it. Edith sat in the kitchen, part of a big card game. I went in and got a glass of whiskey, but made eye contact with no one.
Later, having curled up under a desk in some upstairs storage room, I woke. I heard voices from below. So people were still awake. I had been drooling, and frondsof acrylic carpet were sticking to my lips. I rose, and veered out into the hall.
I met Jenny on the staircase, and we abruptly sat down. As if we had planned to meet. Jenny sat on a step below me and I started to tell her about the banister: turned wood uprights carved into the shape of pineapples, and beneath the pineapples some other kind of wooden flourishment. She was really paying attention. The only way I could explain it to her, I said, was the way toy soldiers would use the banister to convey themselves down if they were invading the ground floor, swinging from pineapple to pineapple with grappling hook and line. Sometimes, alas, plummeting away to the soft carpet below. Poof. And then silence. Jenny gripped my knee. Then we opened our mouths partway, lined up, and kissed.
I was screwed around like a bird, to kiss her; despite the terrible sleep-taste in my mouth she was locked on me; she took my face in her hands and immediately scooted up to my step, quite competent. At least it’s something that’s happened, I said to myself. It was Jenny who stood us up, and suggested we go out and watch the sun rise. As we flew out the door I plucked a bottle of gin off the table, and she swept up an afghan on top her head. It felt like the sky was lightening faster than we could cross the yard.
The next night was similar. After a dull day of campfire chatter, and the ceaseless back-and-forth of new people up from town, band people off to the studio, and after the much-hyped assembly of turducken, I was fading into thebackground, having drunk all afternoon; I found myself heading upstairs again, taking the stairs in giant steps, slowly, wobbling, turning into the same storage room, and curling up for a nap just the same, shortly after dark. I slept for a long time. And when I woke up, deep in the night, with the carpet imprinted on the side of my face, it felt like time had looped, and I resolved to myself to do something good with my life, to break the loop.
I didn’t go down the stairs this time but continued around the landing, and careened truly innocently into a bedroom where the light was on. Beneath the light, Adrienne and Chase lay there sleeping. They were strewn on the bed below me, covered with blankets. I was riveted. I stood there with a rocky feeling on my face. I stood and studied Adrienne’s nose, pressed flat on its side, an intense rose color smushed on the white pillowcase. Adrienne cracked an eye.
But it was Chase who got it together and unfurled an arm to greet me. “Join us,” he said, his voice hoarse.
I didn’t believe it.
“Come on,” said Chase. “Come get some sleep?”
They weren’t touching; they were sleeping in different halves of the bed. I stepped out of my shoes.
To climb in, I had to plant my knee and hand beside Chase. Then I hesitated. “Should I turn out the light?”
Chase smiled, amused. “Yes.”
Then I made my way back to the bed and, planting a knee without touching Chase, I tried to bridge across them to get down on the far side of Adrienne. She rolled away, however. And then Chase just pulled me down like a dog. He laid his arm across me. “It’s cool,” he said.He fumbled with the sheets, and I helped him. We were all three tucked in now.
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