Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Monday, October 8, 2018

From 'Beyond the Sea'




I have a new mantra. Every morning and night after I brush my teeth and apply my anti-wrinkle creams, I repeat to myself in the mirror that I am a brave and strong woman. Not sure if it works though. Today I woke up way before my alarm clock was about to ring. I lay in bed too depressed to even get up and fix me some coffee. I felt lonely and almost forty. I am lonely and almost forty. The truth is, time is unraveling fast and I don’t know how to catch up. Penny says that I look depressed and that it is normal to feel depressed when your husband leaves you for your best friend and your house burns down (she keeps repeating it in details as if making sure I don’t forget!) but I want to shake off this melancholy and reinvent myself. At first I thought it was going to be easy but now I’m having doubts. Also, we have a new person in the office courtesy of new CEO ‘upping’ (his favorite word!) our game with a customer service representative (a dull corporate robot) that he handpicked himself. Her name is Annie Davis. An ugly character with a friendly name. I showed her how to edit a PDF document and later when Brian came round she told him that she ‘figured it out’! When somebody shows you how to do something that’s not called ‘figuring it out’! I was pissed off. I am tired of being nice and have decided to create an alter ego to help me develop some nasty traits that will help me deal with nasty people like Richard, Hope, and Annie Davis. I was thinking what would be an appropriate badass name for my new self when Klaus and Vincent showed up by my desk and asked why I was mad. I explained that I wasn’t mad but deep in thought. Klaus said I was subconsciously mad. Vincent agreed. I felt that I was getting mad but just because they were pissing me off with their insightful questions and opinions. So I told them my name conundrum.
Lily Poppy is such a weak name. What were my parents thinking? How am I supposed to be a strong woman when the slightest wind sends my petals flying? What is a strong name?
‘My dog’s name is Warrior’ said Vincent.
‘What are you saying – that I should look into dog’s names?’
‘No, I’m just saying it’s a strong name.’
‘I need a strong woman’s name.’
‘Ronda Rousey’ said Vincent.
‘Who the hell is Ronda Rousey?’
‘She’s a cage fighter’ said Vincent. Klaus watched our exchange like an exciting tennis match. I had no idea that cage fighting for women existed. Neither did Klaus.
‘Is she fighting men or other women?’ he asked.
‘Other women’ said Vincent.
‘So there are more of them!’ said Klaus impressed.
‘Of course there are more of them – she is not fighting herself’ I said.
‘She could take out a few men, too, I’m sure’ said Vincent, the expert in Ronda Rousey. Richard’s mother’s name is Rhonda. I want to be strong but I’m not that desperate to take the name of my former mother-in-law. I am actually, but there must be another strong name that I could appropriate.
‘Dolly Parton was named after a sheep and yet she is a strong woman’ said Klaus. ‘It’s not the name, it’s you. If you are not happy, change yourself not your name.’
‘She was not named after a sheep’ I said. ‘Dolly Parton came first. Dolly the cloned sheep came after. Who would name a child after a sheep?!’
‘My cousin named his child after a dog’ said Klaus. ‘His wife is Italian and she wanted the name to be Salvatore and now they call him Toto. Like he belongs to Dorothy. But he is cute boy. And you,’ he looked at me, ‘you have the name of a flower, not of a sheep or a dog. Flowers are pretty and you should be happy.’

Klaus is right, but it’s difficult to be happy when your husband runs off with your best friend. It feels like they joined forces and blew all my petals away and I am now in a field full of blossoming wild daisies and poppies, that one balding flower that nobody wants.


Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Certified Mail





Marty read ‘The Post Office’ by Bukowski and decided to become a postman. He applied for the job, got a call back, passed all the tests including Exam 473. He knew he would because 473 are the last three digits of his social security number and that was surely a sign. Marty is an avid reader. As a new postman, he reads all the postcards before he places them in the mailboxes. People are skiing in Colorado, France and Switzerland and are happy about it. He would be, too. Somebody witnessed a street mugging in Mexico. Or was it New York? Marty wonders where would Bukowski go on a winter holiday. 
Marty is starting a book. He is going to call it ‘The Mailman’. It’s going to be about his adventures at work. He’s been at the job for a month now and has never met any of the mail recipients. Nobody is ever home when he delivers. Everybody works so no sex for Marty. His book is stuck. A postman’s job was supposed to be exciting. Where are all the women? One day he rings the bell of an apartment to deliver a small package and a man opens the door. He is Asian but Marty cannot tell the difference between Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese or Korean so he doesn’t know from where. Even the food is the same to him. He sees that the man wears a kimono.
‘Are you Japanese?’ asks Marty handing him the package.
‘Yes’, says the mail recipient in a kimono. He signs the receipt.
‘Is that a book?’ asks Marty.
‘Yes’, says the Japanese man.
‘Oh, I read a lot, too.’
‘I don’t read a lot.’
‘What book is it, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘The Art of War.’
‘Oh, are you going to war?’ Marty’s attempt at a joke flies unnoticed by the Japanese man.
‘No, I just read’ he says.
Marty looks at his Japanese signature on the receipt sheet. It looks like a delicate piece of art surrounded by bureaucracy.
‘It’s beautiful’, says Marty. ‘Your signature is beautiful.’
‘Thank you’ says Japanese mail recipient.
A door next to his apartment opens and a young woman walks out. She says ‘hello’. The Japanese man nods. Marty says ‘hello’ back and smiles. She smiles, too. She is not pretty but Marty finds her beautiful. She lives in number 5 and nobody ever writes to her. She receives bills and advertising. Her name is Myra. Marty thinks that’s the most beautiful female name he’s ever heard. Sometimes Myra receives lingerie catalogues in the mail. Marty thinks she’s probably ordered something from them before and now they keep sending her catalogues. He wonders what she ordered.

Marty buys a book at the bookstore and mails it certified to Myra. He puts the city as the sender. He also buys a ‘thank you’ note to include and wonders what to write in it. After some thinking he writes ‘thank you for keeping the neighborhood safe’. He then wonders if that makes any sense and what is Myra doing to keep the neighborhood safe. Presumably she is not committing any crimes, so that’s her way.
The next day, the book for Myra appears in his mail batch. He rings Myra’s doorbell to deliver it. He hopes that Myra is home and is happy when she opens the door. Myra is surprised to receive a package. Marty hopes Myra will like the book. He tries to start a conversation. Like most people he mentions the weather. It’s cold.                                       
‘It’s the end of January,’ she says, ‘It’s supposed to be cold.’ She hands him back the signed confirmation. She looks at him straight but does not smile. She’s prettier when she smiles. Her lips part as she takes a breath and Marty thinks about kissing her. She says ‘bye’ and shuts the door in his face.

Marty knows all the names of all the people in the neighborhood. Myra Smith is his favorite. Today she received a new credit card offer with zero percent interest rate. She must have a good credit and Marty is glad for her. He drives his funny mail truck very slowly when he passes by Myra’s condo. He hopes to see her but it never happens. He wonders if she’s read the book.

One day Myra gets another certified package. Marty shakes it. It could be a book. Or a box of chocolate. He checks the sender’s address but it’s a PO box in the city and the sender’s name is ‘sender’. He takes the package to Myra and rings the bell. Myra opens. She wears a terrycloth robe. Marty thinks that there is some black lace peeking underneath but he cannot stare so he’s not sure. Myra also wears red lipstick and Marty watches her beautiful lips as she signs the receipt. She is not surprised like last time. She hands him back the receipt and looks him straight in the eyes. Her eyes are dark but feel like looking at the sun. He looks away.
‘Thank you’, she says softly.
‘You are welcome’. He glances at her wishing he could take her cherry lips and keep them forever.
‘It’s very cold outside’ she says.
‘It’s February. It’s supposed to be cold.’ He immediately regrets those words wishing he’d said something more friendly, more agreeable.
‘Not on Valentine’s Day’, she says.
The Japanese man hears voices outside and peeks through the fisheye. Marty is ready to leave but makes himself look at her ruby lips again. A memory for the road.
‘Would you like to come in?’ says Myra. She smiles and gently bites her lower ruby lip. Marty looks at her not pretty but so beautiful face with cherry lips. He smiles. She’s read the book. She wants her mailman.
‘Yes’ says Marty, ‘I would like that very much.’
Through the fisheye, the Japanese man watches as Marty enters and Myra shuts the door behind him. ‘That sonofabitch’, he thinks in Japanese.