Archive for the ‘Jeremiah Tolbert’ Category
A Sandwich Shop in Chicago, 1 AM
Monday, June 18th, 2007
The door of the sandwich shop blew open in the harsh Chicago wind. Something darted, low to the floor, through the gap and inside. James couldn’t make out the blur of the shape, but it had four legs. A small cat or dog. It happened sometimes. Strays took shelter wherever they could from the cold winter. His boss had once found a raccoon in the backroom near the bread ovens.
“Shit, what was that?” said Toby. James was supposed to be training Toby on the register, but it was too cold for customers.
“Dunno,” James said.
“It ran behind the drinks into the corner,” Toby said. “You want me to go kill it?”
“No way,” James said. “I’ve got seniority. I’ll get it.” He stretched yellow rubber gloves that they used when cleaning the baking sheets over his hands and lower arms. Armed himself with a broom, and opened the half-door out in the lobby. He approached the corner cautiously.
“Damn, man, I hope it don’ have rabies or nothing,” said Toby.
A small silver and brown dog was curled up between the wall and the drink fountain. It looked strange, stretched out and longer than any dog James had ever seen. There was blood, from some unseen wound.
“Please don’t kill me,” it said. “I’ll be dead soon enough without your help.”
“Why did you come in here?” James asked.
“It’s just some dumbass dog, it can’t answer you,” Toby said from over James’ shoulder. James didn’t take his eyes off the coyote.
“I want what everyone wants,” it said.
“What does everyone want?”
“To get high,” Toby said, wandering back to the register. “And for their shift to end.”
“To not die alone,” said the coyote.
“I could call a vet or something,” James said.
“Just push it out onto the sidewalk, it looks all fucked up anyway,” Toby said.
“It’s too late for that,” it said. “Please.”
James crouched down beside it. Its eyes were the same color of the gloves. Brilliant yellow, like sunflowers. He reached out to pet the coyote’s fur. It whimpered softly.
“Can I leave early?” Toby asked.
“Yeah,” James said without moving. “Leave whenever you want. I’ll stay here.”
The coyote closed its eyes. Toby clocked out.
The Only One For Me
Friday, June 8th, 2007
An elderly couple lay on their stomachs in the grass of a hillside under a starry sky. The air is warm and moist, not like it is these days; dry and brittle like old glass. The wife sighs in contentment and they press against one another in a sideways embrace.
“Jessica left James yesterday,” she says.
“James always was a jerk,” he mumbles. A firefly bobs past overhead. “Anyway, why?”
“He was using the machine to cheat on her,” she says. “With her.”
He chuckles. She slides an inch away from him.
“You wouldn’t ever do something like that, would you?”
He laughs louder. She swats him gently.
“No, no. It’s a damn fool thing to do. I can’t see the attraction of it, to be honest.”
“Why not? A younger me, prettier…”
He thinks for a moment. “Pretty might have mattered to me back then, and sure, I’ll look at a finely shaped woman at any age, but if pretty was all I cared about, we wouldn’t have lasted ten years, let alone thirty.”
“Thirty-one,” she corrected.
“Ah, right. Sure, I could travel back to meet you before, and you might even be willing, but… to be honest, my dear, you were terrible in bed then.”
“So were you!”
“Exactly. That was before you learned how to do that thing with your tongue, and…”
“I see the point. Now shh. Here we come.”
A small blue convertible pulls onto the shoulder of the road below the hill and parks. The top is down. A much younger version of the couple tumble out of the vehicle, laughing, chasing one another. Minutes pass, and the younger couple spread a blanket in the grass.
“My, but you were handsome then,” she whispers from their hiding spot on the hill.
He nods. “And energetic too,” he says and presses record on the video camera.