Category: 300

She was an impossible woman to love. She was so unresponsive to it; it was even difficult to like her. She gave little and expected so much. The only feeling any of us had towards her was indifference.

She’d lived a hard life; smoked hard, drank hard and had a voice hard as iron. She’d dress you down for saying hello if she hadn’t been into the bottle yet.

It was hard to say what she was hiding from. Ma said she’d had a tough upbringing, a difficult relationship with her folks. That might have worked for some, but it felt like an excuse.

When the news came that her liver was failing, it wasn’t a surprise. It felt like news that was known before it made the paper. She always had something mixed in with her Diet Coke. At every family gathering, she’d head outside to smoke and reload her Coke. Ma called it a coping mechanism. We didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded like another excuse.

She loved us in her way; cold cards at Christmas or digital happy birthdays. She always showed up too, for any event. She was the first to leave, but she would show up. Once we’d established her limitations, we almost felt loved.

We all showed up for her funeral. Wedging in to the small room to hear the forced remembrances of a few friends and family members. It was nice.

It wasn’t until later anyone felt her loss. Now there was presence missing from the family. It gave everyone pause. We thought about getting older, and the lives we wanted to lead.

Ma said at the end Aunt Lute realized maybe she’d burned too many bridges, and she’d wished she’d done a few things in other ways.

She gave us that.

The digital displayed blinked a neon green 4:00 am at him, as “Better Man” began to play gently. He tapped snooze and rolled over wondering why he hadn’t chosen “Black.” It sounded more conducive to sleep, and that’s what he wanted.

He spun back over and hit the button to turn the alarm off. Knowing the snooze would only last two minutes, and what was the point?

He slid from beneath the covers; the carpet scratchy on his toes. He wondered why he hadn’t ripped it up as he grabbed what he needed for the gym.

The bathroom lights brought him into sharp review. A single gray hair was cutting a crooked path down his right temple. He wondered if this would have been easier when he was younger?

His coworkers thought he was crazy for being up this early. He always told them he had things to do, but he often wondered if it was worth the dark pockets that formed below his eyes. None of the articles he’d read had mentioned those.

His ankles popped on each step as he descended into the lighted darkness of the living room. He’d given up on trying to be silent years before. It didn’t matter now anyway.

He put the water on for tea and turned his laptop on, hoping today would be the day. He cracked the blinds so a sliver of moonlight would break through. It was how he preferred to search, in the quiet, before the rest of the world was awake.

He would try for a couple of hours before he went to the gym. Maybe today he would find her again. At worst, he’d be further ahead for being up so early.

Brain awake, he began to search the keys for the thread of her.

The hunger gnawed at his guts. He hugged himself against it as much as the cold. Icicles from the gray sky exploded against the sidewalk. He huddled closer into the doorway. The emptiness in his stomach was a cold pit, worse than any rainy fall day, more desperate.

He had a half-eaten burger the day before. He’d taken it from the top of a city trashcan. He’d dug deeper for less. He couldn’t understand why people threw out so much food, so much waste.

The burger had been good. Juicy. But there was no cheese. How could they have a burger with no cheese?

He had money yesterday. Not a lot, but enough for something to eat. He remembered thinking about a burrito from one of the food trucks. It had made him salivate.

They’d cooked last night. There wasn’t much, but Genie had wanted to have a little something, and he couldn’t say no. They’d put their money together and bought what they could. It hadn’t amounted to more than a taste, but it had been delicious. It had warmed him.

But now he was cold and aching with want. He thought he should walk; maybe find a busier corner for his change cup or head to the Mission to see what they were serving for lunch. It was raining hard though, and lunch wouldn’t solve the problem of tonight’s dinner.

He knew Genie would come calling, looking for him to help put something together for them. She was so beautiful. He couldn’t let her down. She needed him. He needed her.

The ground was cold beneath him. He’d put down a piece of cardboard, but it had been soaked in the night. He shivered against the morning cold.

He should get up; find some money. He was hungry.