by
Jeffrey Eugenides
(editor)
104
I liked to sit up front and ride the fast ones all day long, I liked it when they brushed right up against the buildings north of the Loop and I especially liked it when the buildings dropped away into that bombed-out squalor a little farther north in which people (through windows you’d see a person in his dirty naked kitchen spooning soup toward his face, or twelve children on their bellies on the floor, watching television, but instantly they were gone, wiped away by a movie billboard of a woman winking and touching her upper lip deftly with her tongue, and she in turn erased by a— wham, the noise and dark dropped down around your head—tunnel) actually lived.
I was twenty-five, twenty-six, something like that. My fingertips were all yellow from smoking. My girlfriend was with child.
It cost fifty cents, ninety cents, a dollar to ride the train. I really don’t remember.
<3
I liked to sit up front and ride the fast ones all day long, I liked it when they brushed right up against the buildings north of the Loop and I especially liked it when the buildings dropped away into that bombed-out squalor a little farther north in which people (through windows you’d see a person in his dirty naked kitchen spooning soup toward his face, or twelve children on their bellies on the floor, watching television, but instantly they were gone, wiped away by a movie billboard of a woman winking and touching her upper lip deftly with her tongue, and she in turn erased by a— wham, the noise and dark dropped down around your head—tunnel) actually lived.
I was twenty-five, twenty-six, something like that. My fingertips were all yellow from smoking. My girlfriend was with child.
It cost fifty cents, ninety cents, a dollar to ride the train. I really don’t remember.
<3
105
[...] After the film I talked to a man about vasectomies. A man with a mustache. I didn’t like him.
“You have to be sure,” he said.
“I’m never getting anybody pregnant again. I know that much.”
“Would you like to make an appointment?”
“Would you like to give me the money?”
“It won’t take long to save the money.”
“It would take me forever to save the money,” I corrected him.
[...] After the film I talked to a man about vasectomies. A man with a mustache. I didn’t like him.
“You have to be sure,” he said.
“I’m never getting anybody pregnant again. I know that much.”
“Would you like to make an appointment?”
“Would you like to give me the money?”
“It won’t take long to save the money.”
“It would take me forever to save the money,” I corrected him.
107
I turned away because my throat was closing up. Suddenly I had an erection. I knew men got that way about men, but I didn’t know I did.
His chest was like Christ’s. That’s probably who he was.
I could have followed anybody off that train. It would have been the same.
damn
I turned away because my throat was closing up. Suddenly I had an erection. I knew men got that way about men, but I didn’t know I did.
His chest was like Christ’s. That’s probably who he was.
I could have followed anybody off that train. It would have been the same.
damn
107
There was nothing stopping me from going back to where Michelle and I were staying, but these days had reduced us to the Rebel Motel. The maids spat out their chew in the shower stalls. There was a smell of insecticide. I wasn’t going back there to sit in the room and wait.
Michelle and I had our drama. It got very dreary sometimes, but it felt like I had to have her. As long as there was one other person at these motels who knew my real name.
Out back they had all these Dumpsters stuffed with God knows what. We can’t imagine the shape of our fate, that’s for sure.
There was nothing stopping me from going back to where Michelle and I were staying, but these days had reduced us to the Rebel Motel. The maids spat out their chew in the shower stalls. There was a smell of insecticide. I wasn’t going back there to sit in the room and wait.
Michelle and I had our drama. It got very dreary sometimes, but it felt like I had to have her. As long as there was one other person at these motels who knew my real name.
Out back they had all these Dumpsters stuffed with God knows what. We can’t imagine the shape of our fate, that’s for sure.