by Kathy Fish
Some boys from Trinity stand in a group across the street. They have such shiny hair. They are brilliant! The skinny one waves to me. The sun slips behind them, behind the mountains. The skinny one cups his hands around his mouth. “Daaaaaaaphneeeeee,” he yells. The other boys laugh. I cross and let my backpack slip off my shoulder. “Peace,”I say and the Trinity boys, they are so fine, they say peace back.
“I've been seeing my father kissing some woman in his car when I'm walking home from basketball practice,” I say. “Different spots, he changes it up. Scrawny woman, hair like fingers pointing out of her head. He can kiss whoever he wants, no question. But I'm tired, seriously tired, of these displays.”
The Trinity boys don't blame me at all. They know I am not stupid about the world. I am a robust girl. Nevertheless, like everyone else I have limits. I am a clock that winds down.
“Check it,” I say, because there they are, Jesus, right in the parking lot of Sunnyside Foods. Like he wants me to see him. The Trinity boys follow my finger. And the skinny one whistles. My father and the woman untangle themselves. I wave my arms and yell, “Over here, hot shot.”
Every night my mom dreams she's sprayed with bullets. “I can feel the blood seeping from the holes,” she says. I want to scream. I want to tell her don't rock back and forth like that, don't affect that gypsy accent! Emotionally, my father is sixteen years old. The dream indicates all loss of hope.
I am the best freshman center in Terre Haute. My father sits in the bleachers at all the home games. He has saved every one of my baby teeth and carries them in a leather pouch. He has been known to show them to the other spectators. The night he moved out he shot Nerf balls into the hoop on my bedroom door. I sat on the bed with my head deep in the hood of my sweatshirt, pretending to read Cannery Row. I am at a crossroads, Daffodil, he told me. A crossroads!
I stop at Sunnyside and buy food for dinner. I am my mother's angel. I buy cigarettes and a Bic lighter. Those boys wait across the street. I'm going to offer them a smoke. The clerk counts change. He tells me be good and shakes my hand. He doesn't care. Around here, I am a celebrity.
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Originally published in the great Smokelong Quarterly.
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What a moment - "Every night my mom dreams she's sprayed with bullets. “I can feel the blood seeping from the holes,” she says. I want to scream. I want to tell her don't rock back and forth like that, don't affect that gypsy accent! Emotionally, my father is sixteen years old. The dream indicates all loss of hope."
Great story, Kathy. A wonderful read.
Thanks so much, Sam.
Read this once a bunch of times. A+ Fave
This is wonderful and unexpected. My brain is sludge at the moment but I love this and I'll say more about it later. Favorite.
Thanks, Jack! I keep meaning to put that naked sleepwalker story up for you. :-)
Thanks, Elizabeth!
My God, Kath, this is amazing!Scrawny woman, hair like fingers pointing out of her head..Every night my mom dreams she's sprayed with bullets..Those boys wait across the street. I'm going to offer them a smoke. Great stuff! Tremendously good.
Thanks so much, Darryl!
I really enjoyed this and there was some really choice words in here. I loved the last line. I can see these characters going a lot of places.
Love this, Kathy!! *!
Thanks so much, Mandee and Marcelle!
Your stories are always so intense with character and I'm so glad you're back here again. This one resonates with conflict and resolve. Really nice one!
Check it: I love the voice.
Those baby teeth!
Such a treat to read.
Thanks so much Susan and Sara! It's nice to be back. So much great stuff to read.
Every word scores. The jump are perfect, agile, delightful, unexpected. I Even like the dream. Dreams are so hard. Mom's dream is so absolutely without guile or tedious symbolism. She hurts! The voice: No pose or posturing. A cool story.Everything authentic."Daffodil" as a dad would surely call a Daphne. 90 stars.
Thanks so much, James. Oh, I know, about the dream. Isn't Lorrie Moore who says "include a dream, lose a reader" or some such? I'm glad that one works, here. You are surely the kindest reader in these parts.
Just wonderful, Kathy. My favorite part: “The night he moved out he shot Nerf balls into the hoop on my bedroom door. I sat on the bed with my head deep in the hood of my sweatshirt, pretending to read Cannery Row. I am at a crossroads, Daffodil, he told me. A crossroads!” Big fav.
thanks much, Kari!
The voice here is amazing, so clear and distinctive, I got chills from her, she's so feisty and smart and resilent about the mess of her family... Great story
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Thanks for reading this, Susan!
Kathy, there's a dryness here contrasting with the matter of this which I loved.
This story skips and leaps -- I swear every sentence was a new disovery. So many short sharp ideas, and the characters are really alive (even the mom in her dream). For some reason, this was my favorite part:
They know I am not stupid about the world. I am a robust girl. Nevertheless, like everyone else I have limits. I am a clock that winds down.
She is so unexpectedly sure of herself. So crisp in the way she views the world. And herself. That is what I really like here: the precision of it all.
Thanks very much, Ajay and MIchelle!
The voice here is very fine, Kathy. I'd read Daffodil all day if she wrote a book. She should write a book. She should shake her mother. She should recruit those Trinity boys to do her bidding. She should kick some ass.
...not that I want you to write anything but what you've written here.
Thanks for inviting me to the site.
Thanks, Eric. I'm glad you're here!
A perfect example of excellent flash!
Thank you very much, Christian!
Fish flash. Is there anything better? Love "hair like fingers pointing out of her head." Love the whole thing. Thanks, Kath.
Oh, to have to listen to her mothers dream of blood dripping out the holes, and a father who can't grow up. A wonderful story.
Thanks so much for the kind words Bonnie and Estelle! I really appreciate it.
really, really lovely, Kath!!
Thank you Tiffer. I am so glad to see you posted Betty Superman! Off to read it again...
I'm with Eric. This girl deserves a book.
You guys have me thinking, James. Thanks!
I too really like how sharp and alive this is--a pleasure to read! The mother seeping blood in her dream, and daughter thinking "don't affect that gypsy accent"--it's good stuff.
Thanks so much, Catherine!
Strong character, Daaaaaaaphneeeeee, best freshman basketball center in Terre Haute, seeing her father kissing some woman in his car, like he wants her to see him, while every night her mom dreams she's sprayed with bullets, indicating all loss of hope. Very good writing. I enjoyed reading it.
Thank you very much, J.!
divine & resonating, ms. fish.
Donna! Thanks for reading this and the lovely comment.
Wonderful character and story, Kathy! You almost want to meet Daffodil.
Oh thanks, Kim! I appreciate it!
Neat work!
thanks, Meg
good to see you back! i was away, too. yes, so many good stories to read.
um, yes, there are many good stories to read...
Excellent voice here. Excellent navigation around a difficult theme.
Thank you for reading it, Beate, and the kind words.
Great, tight read. A very present air. And yes, the voice. Pleasure. *ing it.
Thanks so much, Catherine!
Love the parts about the mother's dream and the baby teeth!
This is beautiful. This line especially calls out to me: "I am a clock that winds down."
Thanks very much, Lauren!