Page 38 - WTP VOl. X #3

Bitter Water (continued from preceding page) she opened the door.
Separate: thank God. Andy, surprised; Jason, too, surprised.
VI.
When she had first seen Jason with Andy that eve- ning, her senses had quickened. But then someone called, “Miriam, cider!” and she lost track of the pair. The next time she saw them they were in the living room, chatting happily with the other cousins.
The third time, she thought of nothing at all; and her mind rested peacefully on their image, taller and shorter, leaving the room together, as she set the table, first plates, then napkins, then knives.... When at last she had finished putting out the soup spoons, salad forks, wine glasses, water glasses, tea cups, teaspoons, and pudding dishes, she paused to think what she had to do next—and was surprised to find that same image, untouched, in plain occupation of her mind’s seat. She studied the image. It rang false to her. Not as a whole... but there was a flat note in the scale. She sat down at the table she had just set.
Jason wore a red-and-white striped button-down tucked into a little pair of corduroys, held up by a tiny leather belt. Next to him, Andy, a wispy sprout
of white hair on his head, his poorly shaved cheek turned away from her, his massive torso in plaid, belted round with a band of black leather, and two well-ironed khaki pillars set upon long, narrow black loafers. His forearms were large and hairy, especially in contrast with the bald sticks at Jason’s side. His left arm sloped down to Jason’s shoulder, which he held and squeezed... through the shirt, into his shoul- der, his thumb massaging, distorting the shirt clock- wise around it.
Now the picture—she thought, and briefly stemmed the growing tide of panic—had moved. When she was a kid she had tried, once, sitting still, to set a
table for two in her head, but the dishes had kept sliding around. The harder she tried to hold every- thing down, the more it would rebel: the table spun, the chairs danced, and the tablecloth wrapped itself in knots to some crazy tune.
Now she was tense, but calm. She tried to stop the motion, and nothing rebelled—the thumb halted midway, and they paused their step. Then she let it continue; and they exited the room.
VII.
Cousin Andy gave him a frayed green book of Greek myths, decorated with gold-leaf meander, black woodblock, and blotted watercolor. Years later, Jason would remember three illustrations: Daphne, staggering to one knee on the riverbank, spreading roots with her ankle raised in a knot, her elbows and shoulders also knotted in place, and her hand, upraised against Apollo emerging from the thicket, splayed into five long shoots, as wood encased her neck and jaw, but not her fearful eyes. Another page showed Actaeon, a galloping stag with human eyes, panic-stricken, entangled in his own hunting gear, pursued by his starving dogs, who had visible ribcages, drawn cheeks, and long teeth for pierc- ing and tearing flesh. Last was Apollo, leaning over his sister’s shoulder and pointing to a stone on the ocean’s horizon as she drew her bow to the chal- lenge, unaware that Orion was her target, walking over the waves.
VIII.
Cousin Andy was skinny with a bowling-ball belly, a white moustache, and a soft white wisp of hair, and he smiled a particular smile that looked as if it had collapsed once upon a time, then been propped up again in three places. The corner of his mouth was smeared with a chalky dust, the dried remains of the yellow meal that he had wiped away. But already tiny yellow bubbles were beginning to form between his lips on that side.
He placed the frayed green book on Jason’s shelf, paused and did not leave. Then he spotted Jason’s trumpet leaning against his bed, beamed, and strode over. He picked it up lightly, drummed the valves, quickly sat cross-legged, and thumped the ground beside him for Jason to sit. He lifted the trumpet
to playing position, pressed the mouthpiece into the tiny yellow bubbles in the corner of his mouth, puffed out his cheeks, and blasted a warping wail in the area of G. His eyes began to cross, his face grew
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