The Energy of Girls
by Laurie Stone
Emma and I were in a shabby part of town with vacant lots and overgrown yards, and I wondered if something would happen as we loped beside Tom, who was slow-witted and 21. We were 13, and it was dark, but I wasn't afraid. My parents were doctors. When they hugged me, they scanned for disease, so I was used to a low-level atmosphere of alarm. After a few blocks, Tom led us into a lot with tall weeds, then along a path to a clearing with stones that smelled of fire. We sat on sandy ground, light raying off Emma's bleached white hair and fading into the trees. We ate chips from the store where Tom worked the register. He cupped his face in his hands, looking at us, and Emma touched his soft hair and long body. I touched him, too. My fingernails were dirty. His legs were firm. He said, “Nice.” I closed my eyes. It was quiet except for our breathing. When I opened my eyes, Tom was stretched out on the ground, slipping down his pants. I looked at the stars and weeds and wondered if this was how my life was going to go. Emma had lived in New York, and I wondered why she had chosen me to be her friend. The thing Tom lacked was also something he had, and the thing Emma and I had was also something we lacked, and so in this way we were a good fit. Tom's penis stood up. I didn't have a brother. I thought that when I was dying I wouldn't remember where I had traveled or the work I had done but who I had touched.
What a piece! I like every dot of it. Compression, reason, no reason, fullness, memory. This is very dear. *
Thanks, Ann, I am appreciative of your response.
"The thing Tom lacked was also something he had, and the thing Emma and I had was also something we lacked..." Wow! this sizzles.*
Thanks so much, Gary. I was thinking how a man like Tom would create an unthreatening atmosphere for the girls to explore in, even though the situation could also potentially spin out of control, and maybe it does after the end of this story.
What I like is that it goes into the whys of the situation-what the narrator wants and needs, the facts and uncertainties of her life...
Thought-provoking work.
Many thanks, Amanda. I was taken by the feelings of being the less experienced girl who follows the glamorous other girl, and the sexual exploration is partly a desire to win the friend's approval. The girls are touching through touching the man/boy.
I like how authentic this feels, and the questions that it leaves unanswered.
An Editor's Eye selection.
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I like these crystalline moments with no thoughts of the why- it allows the reader to imagine. The story you tell is perfect in itself. *
Gosh yes! This is amazing in the moments it paints. I think the other comments get at the beauty here - how it does not try to explore how or why but just paints the scene and the exploration and the way it all connects (or does not?). Really strong writing here. Wow. Love this.
Thanks to Bill Yarrow for pointing me here from Editor's Eye. So glad to have read this little bright thing tonight!
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Hi Michelle, Thanks for the insight and understanding here. All best, Laurie
Laurie,
I love this line:
My parents were doctors. When they hugged me, they scanned for disease, so I was used to a low-level atmosphere of alarm.
and this one:
I looked at the stars and weeds and wondered if this was how my life was going to go.
Beautiful work!
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