Elephantine
by Dale Marlowe
Seth led me through the Commons' grid of trailers toward the strip mall. We veered South, through a gash in the chain link, down into the culvert. It had not rained in weeks; the culvert was dry, but for a tiny stream of rusty water, deep enough to have a current, but so low it didn't rise past our sneaker soles. Wisp of methane: from the standpipe, nearby.
We ascended a gravel path leading from the culvert's edge to the levee's rim. Then we sat, our shins dangling over the river. In the distance, Toledo rose high and lit-up, hulking over the twin suspension bridges. PORT OF TOLEDO floated on the horizon, stenciled in white on a massive silo at the river's mouth. Beyond that, nothing remained but suggestions, industrial silhouettes. The Toledo Zoo was across the river. My stomach growled.
I leaned in: “Dude, later you think we can get some Taco Bell?”
Seth faked worry over the question. When finished deliberating, he nodded, pinching his chin.
"Yes, Ozzie,” he said. "Yes, I do."
I tossed him the rolling papers. He took a Zippo and some weed from his jacket pocket. He removed a sheet from the box and made a little gutter, bending the sheet in half longways. Then he sprinkled some crushed-up buds in the crease, twisted up the joint, raised it to his lips, flicked the Zippo open and lit the joint. When he'd taken a total milkster, he passed me the joint. I drew, swallowed the smoke. It settled in my chest; I held, blown up, bloated, scratchy in the throat.
Cough & exhale~
I lay back on the grass, looking into the sky, twisting the Milky Way into fancy animorphs: giraffes, lions, palm trees, spinning wheels. Each glyph held its shape for a moment, sparkling like a fistful of sequins flung against plum velvet. Then the form lapsed. Gone. Just like that. I closed my eyes, ground my molars and fell, looping backward through my skin, through the grass, through each blade, through the earth, back. Again.
After like forever I remembered Seth was there, too. He was still on the levee's edge, but had drawn his legs up and crossed them, Indian-style. All of a sudden he was laughing. Big, wheezing cackles.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Hey man,” he said, pointing at the zoo. “Did you know you can hear the elephants bleating from here?”
This held me in place, transfixed seems overused, but the best word I can think of.
The first two graphs, the setting, watching it become a character itself, called me back to some of William Gay's best stories.
I enjoyed this all around.
Thank you, Sheldon. I have enjoyed your work as well--but I'm one among dozens, it seems!
Really nice setting of both environment and characters. I like this. (And for what it's worth, I too am a great William Gay fan.)
Yep. Very nice feel to this. Obvious it's done with loving care.
Thank you, Susan.
Thanks, Eamon.
good stuff, stephen. i like how this story goes up and down - excellent use of dialogue, of words unknown to the common man and of a stylistic device that, being a common man, i don't know the english word for ("Cough & exhale") but i appreciated it no end. wonderful timing here.
Humblest thanks, Finnegan. Let this meeting of the Mutual Admiration Society commence!