Read Online Drowning Tucson by Aaron Morales - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Aaron Morales
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waiting on the tub to fill up, letting the steam fill the room and clear his pores and loosen his breathing. Whathave I done? What if Stella smells Satin on me? He didn’t want to lose his wife over some cheap whore.
Manny inhaled the steam of the bathwater, remembering how powerful Stella made him feel as his wife, the same way he felt every time he went in front of a promotion committee and they awarded him a higher rank. Each time Manny came home with a new patch, Stella took great pride in removing his lower-ranking patches and stitching on the new one.
As he listened to the water pouring from the faucet, Manny glanced over at his younger son’s potty chair, reminded of the time so many years ago when he’d wandered into the bathroom early one morning while his parents slept and lifted the lid of the toilet gently so it would not fall back down with a crash and wake his parents, and he tore off a piece of toilet paper—out of ritual instead of necessity—and placed it in the bowl of water and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, wincing as the crust scraped the soft pad of skin in the corners where his eyelids met, and let loose a burst of urine that pained him with its initial blast because it had been testing the limits of his bladder as he slept. He did not hear his father enter the bathroom because he was lulled by the sound and the force of his pee crashing into the toilet bowl. When his father came up beside him and pulled a big brown monster from the front of his boxers, Manny almost cried out in horror. His father leaned over the bowl, placing his hand on the sink opposite him, and unleashed a roar of piss so loud it sounded as if the very heavens were crashing to the ground. Manny stared in disbelief. The tiny nub he held between his fingers suddenly baffled and embarrassed him.
Manny chuckled over that day in the bathroom with his father. He hadn’t been able to look away. He’d even dreamed about it. The steam slowly began to clear and he removed his soiled clothes. The bath was full. The water was exactly how he liked it, almost unbearably hot. He eased himself into the large, claw-footed tub and let the water spill over him. The bathwater slowly broke down the film that covered him, the smell of Satin and sex and liquor.
Stella had not woken up, so he felt safe to ease the rest of his body into the water, taking a deep breath and sliding his head down the back of the tub to the bottom until only his knees were exposed to theair. Holding his breath until he could feel his lungs being pinched within his chest, he thought about the Loveboat. Even though he was ashamed, he wanted to do it again. It wasn’t cheating on his wife or finally getting some stranger after years of being with the same woman. It was something else entirely. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Little bubbles of air seeped out from his nostrils. Manny loved how it felt being underwater. It was the same way he had felt when Satin had him in her mouth and he saw all those men around him and it seemed like he was floating, finally relieving the terrible pressure that had been building within him for so many years, a pressure he had tried to press out so many different times, sleeping with several women before he married and even one or two in the year immediately following his wedding, though he had never enjoyed any of it. Not the way he enjoyed giving it to Satin behind the Loveboat.
Stella was unaware that Manny had been faking it in bed since before the birth of their first son, Justin. He felt bad because Stella seemed truly happy in their marriage. She scheduled family portraits at Olan Mills once a year. She’s a good woman. She even referred to herself as Mrs. Torres when he introduced her to colleagues, not just Stella. If she finds out about Satin, it will break her heart. And the boys. If this story spreads around the base, I’m screwed. Kids hear and talk a lot. Justin will find out. He’ll ask his mother.
Manny inhaled the steam of the bathwater, remembering how powerful Stella made him feel as his wife, the same way he felt every time he went in front of a promotion committee and they awarded him a higher rank. Each time Manny came home with a new patch, Stella took great pride in removing his lower-ranking patches and stitching on the new one.
As he listened to the water pouring from the faucet, Manny glanced over at his younger son’s potty chair, reminded of the time so many years ago when he’d wandered into the bathroom early one morning while his parents slept and lifted the lid of the toilet gently so it would not fall back down with a crash and wake his parents, and he tore off a piece of toilet paper—out of ritual instead of necessity—and placed it in the bowl of water and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, wincing as the crust scraped the soft pad of skin in the corners where his eyelids met, and let loose a burst of urine that pained him with its initial blast because it had been testing the limits of his bladder as he slept. He did not hear his father enter the bathroom because he was lulled by the sound and the force of his pee crashing into the toilet bowl. When his father came up beside him and pulled a big brown monster from the front of his boxers, Manny almost cried out in horror. His father leaned over the bowl, placing his hand on the sink opposite him, and unleashed a roar of piss so loud it sounded as if the very heavens were crashing to the ground. Manny stared in disbelief. The tiny nub he held between his fingers suddenly baffled and embarrassed him.
Manny chuckled over that day in the bathroom with his father. He hadn’t been able to look away. He’d even dreamed about it. The steam slowly began to clear and he removed his soiled clothes. The bath was full. The water was exactly how he liked it, almost unbearably hot. He eased himself into the large, claw-footed tub and let the water spill over him. The bathwater slowly broke down the film that covered him, the smell of Satin and sex and liquor.
Stella had not woken up, so he felt safe to ease the rest of his body into the water, taking a deep breath and sliding his head down the back of the tub to the bottom until only his knees were exposed to theair. Holding his breath until he could feel his lungs being pinched within his chest, he thought about the Loveboat. Even though he was ashamed, he wanted to do it again. It wasn’t cheating on his wife or finally getting some stranger after years of being with the same woman. It was something else entirely. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Little bubbles of air seeped out from his nostrils. Manny loved how it felt being underwater. It was the same way he had felt when Satin had him in her mouth and he saw all those men around him and it seemed like he was floating, finally relieving the terrible pressure that had been building within him for so many years, a pressure he had tried to press out so many different times, sleeping with several women before he married and even one or two in the year immediately following his wedding, though he had never enjoyed any of it. Not the way he enjoyed giving it to Satin behind the Loveboat.
Stella was unaware that Manny had been faking it in bed since before the birth of their first son, Justin. He felt bad because Stella seemed truly happy in their marriage. She scheduled family portraits at Olan Mills once a year. She’s a good woman. She even referred to herself as Mrs. Torres when he introduced her to colleagues, not just Stella. If she finds out about Satin, it will break her heart. And the boys. If this story spreads around the base, I’m screwed. Kids hear and talk a lot. Justin will find out. He’ll ask his mother.
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