The Iow Review Volume 38 Issue 1 Spring Article 48 2008 Pryers to Those Who Wit Andrew Kozm Follow this nd dditionl works t: http://ir.uiow.edu/iowreview Prt of the Cretive Writing Commons Recommended Cittion Kozm, Andrew. "Pryers to Those Who Wit." The Iow Review 38.1 (2008): 149-164. Web. Avilble t: https://doi.org/10.17077/0021-065x.6426 This Contents is brought to you for free nd open ccess by Iow Reserch Online. It hs been ccepted for inclusion in The Iow Review by n uthorized dministrtor of Iow Reserch Online. For more informtion, plese contct lib-ir@uiow.edu.
ANDREW KOZMA Pryers to Those Who Wit PART i Memory of Ashes nd_ Things re not s they seem. My mom nd dd re resting in their bed. She rests on her side, crdling him?her eyes re open nd unfocused in the direction of the fr wll. The room is drk. It is lte, lter thn you think. With the shdes drwn there is no telling whether there's moon shining through clouds. Or if it's just rising nd silvering the tree tops. Or if the sky is empty except for ple disk too low to see from this forested suburb. There is no sound but the fn turning so slowly the ir moved is continuous fint breth, exhling every thing without wheeze, without holding bck, stedily. The trick, the turn I ws going to spring on you, is tht my fther is not there. Inside my mom's rms is n urn, inside which is pls tic bg, inside which is dry, complex mixture of shes nd smll, unmitigted bones. There. Don't you feel better? Nothing to_. But don't underestimte the _ of memory. At this moment my mom is reliving her mrrige nd ttempting?fil ing?to not relive the time in the_. I wnt to sy conscious ness presides over memory, memory presides over conscience, conscience presides over desire, nd desire. Desire. She tells me to tke deep breths, clm the hert s though forc ing sleep, nd pick point in time. Reconstruct, from the ground up: the white of the wlls, the sky leking in through the window, tht sound in the distnce, some sound in the distnce, s of rrivl: the intensive cre wlls beep nd the ir smells_. The hert nd lung mchine_like on the bed. dog t your feet. There is swollen PART II Fr From Home I knew I hd to go home: it ws erly December 1999 nd I ws on blcony in Lrnk, Cyprus, tht reminded me of the blcony Din 149 University of Iow is collborting with JSTOR to digitize, preserve, nd extend ccess to The Iow Review www.jstor.org
nd I shred in Athens. From here I could see her high school, few empty soccer fields, nd the tinge of blue tht ws the ocen on the horizon. In Athens, we hd hd hotel room high enough tht we could see the Acropolis while still in bed. In Cyprus, I felt drg, s though I ws cught in net, one of those gigntic ones slowly trolling the ocen so tht, for the lon gest time, the cptured fish don't relize their dnger. I styed in Din's room in her prents' prtment (though, for tht first week, we were by ourselves). In her room were twin beds, seprted by foot-wide gp, with yellow bedding nd wlls newly pinted drk green. At night we spilled over the gp into one nother's rms. The plne slips through clouds like needle through skin. In lte August of 2000 my mother nd fther drove me down to Ginesville, Florid, helping me move ll my meger possessions to strt my new life s grdute student. Two weeks lter my fther collpsed in the front hll of their home. He hd finted, nd it ws nothing serious?it ws simply very, very strnge. Inexplicble. My fther hd lwys been in gret physicl condition, prtly becuse being in top shpe ws required for Air Force pilots. He plyed soccer with my brother nd me until he ws fifty, nd physicins told him tht he hd the lungs of twenty-yer-old (much better thn mine; fflicted with sthm since I ws young, my lungs hve lwys been sub-pr). My fther ws dignosed with low blood pressure. A month lter he died; fter my fther hd been on life support for week, my mother nd brother hd the mchines turned off. His vitl functions cesed within the hour. Tht is the lnguge of mchinery nd medicl euphemism. The lst time I sw my fther, his hert nd lungs were lrge plstic box by his bedside tht looked like n qurium of blood. Tubes pierced his sides. Even without Ovid's mgic, ws occurring. metmorphosis 150
How do you explin when you re in love, or when someone is in love with you? I men, how do you explin the feeling? It comes down to metphor, which mens it comes down to instinct, to nothing t ll. In Cyprus, sitting on my bed in Din's room, eting brekfst t her prents' tble, I knew I ws soon returning home to Virgini even though I lso knew I hd nothing to look forwrd to except life on hold while witing for responses to my grd school pplictions. My prents sid I could sty with them?s long s I found job?nd there were friends to hng out with. This emptiness is wht hd mde Cyprus so ppeling. Din could help me find job, n prtment, nd every three months, when my visitor's vis expired, we'd vction brod for few dys nd return to strt the cycle gin. She ws beutiful, rtistic, ply fully wicked; her fmily ws open nd ccepting; Cyprus ws thick, ddictive book?foreign enough to be exotic, but comfortble since everyone spoke English, the islnd hving been British colony. But even in Athens I ws reticent. We lmost hd sex. Since I ws virgin, I figured tht would dd too mny complictions, too mny ties between us, in cse I hd to leve. Hd to? I wnted to. Why? Becuse of n urge, desire, some insistent feeling tht I needed to be somewhere else, tht this wsn't the plce, go home. Tht's no nswer. Tell me why? Is it me? She touches her fce, then turns the motion so tht she's simply tucking stry lock of hir behind n er. This pst yer her skin ws slightly scrred by sickness. No. I'm looking t you, looking t her, we're looking t ech other, eye to eye?we're close enough to feel the breth of the other on our skin but, purposefully, there is no contct. I don't know. Here is summing up of the sitution. October in Athens is cold, gry, nd riny. At times the sky is s cler s glss nd the sun cloks you with light, so much so it hurts to see. The dy Din rrived in Athens?I'd lredy been there two dys?there ws riot sprked by President Clinton's rrivl in the city. We pssed by the long lines of people erlier in the fternoon, when it ws still peceful demonstrtion. 151
Two of my fellow students nd I went to et t Hooters, which ws the only resturnt open t tht time of night in downtown Ginesville. In twelve hours my fther's hert trnsplnt would be performed; I would still be in the ir, witing to touch down in Durhm. There ws good chnce he'd be ded by the time I rrived. In n older worldview his spirit could've pssed my body while I ws in the ir, on its wy to heven. But in tht older world there would be no irplne, nd I'd hve herd of his deth through letter, months fter it occurred. The two others with me t the resturnt?i don't remember who they were. My fther sickened nd died t the beginning of my M f so I didn't hve friends, just kind-herted strngers who knew, through proxy, tht I must be in pin. Wht I wnted ws to lugh. We did. At the bsurdity of going to Hooters for mourning nd for comfort. At the bsurdity of Hooters being the perfect plce to go for comfort. Around deth I wnt the Irish extreme of drinking nd joy nd grief ll mixed together. Wht is the purpose of sdness? I lugh to celebrte life nd blunt the edge of despir. In less thn week my fmily, nd my fther's fmily, hd moved into the Duke University Medicl Center nd fshioned new life round witing. My life ws fshioning itself round teching nd writing nd tking clsses nd the knowledge of my fther's decline constricting ll my ctions. Dys would go by, before my fther ws t Duke, while he ws bouncing from home to the Portsmouth Nvl Hospitl in Virgini to home to Wlter Reed in D.C., when I would forget tht my fther ws ill, when I would drink some cof fee, red book for school, nd not wonder wht things were like outside my world. Stedily, proteins in my fther's body were suffocting the orgns. They were not prejudiced?they were not intelligent?so tht ech orgn declined in performnce by the sme mount. The hert trnsplnt, which ws successful, ws no help. The hert ws not his problem. A week before I ws ticket ws going to leve Cyprus, Din hd surgery. My bought nd I couldn't postpone the flight?my prents 152
were the ones fronting the money for my return. She hd ovrin cysts tht were cusing bleeding nd needed to be removed. This hd been problem before nd the resultnt scrring hd lredy put in doubt the possibility of her hving children. The surgery ws going to tke plce in Nicosi, nd I trveled with her, her mother, nd her brother for her preliminry visit. Most of the time in the city, the Cypriot cpitl, I spent in bookstore next door to the clinic. In the dys fter her surgery Din mostly ly in bed, in pin, witing for her body to mend. She ws still bleeding. I red to her. At night we tlked bout wht we were going to do in the future. She held out hope, nd I held out the possibility, tht I would still be here. In the cr on the wy to Nicosi I wtched the lndscpe. Din ws tired, she ws hurting, nd she ws string out her own win dow. The lnd ws blsted. The dirt ws yellowish-gry, nd the trees tht rose from it stunted. Cyprus hd been resort prdise for the British Empire. I wondered why nyone would ever come here. PART m A Detiled Anlysis of Room in Trnsition The mchine off center, to the bck nd the right of the bed, is the only thing connecting my fther to this world. From this vntge point I cn only see one wll?the hed of the bed rests ginst it, underneth high nd modest slit of window. This tunnel vision is selective: the top of my fther's hed, his hir thinned by his sick ness; other mchines turned off nd pushed ginst the wll; the light blue of the wll; nd though I cn't see them, I know there re hnds resting on my fther's hnds, his hnds tht re even now, imperceptibly, cooling. I turn from the bed to the blcony nd open up the hevy red curtins. With the glss doors slid shut it ppers to be hot dy in Greece: the Acropolis burns bright white like wedding cke deco rtion. Din djusts behind me. There is n intke of breth, but no words. Agin, we hve not hd sex. We'd hve to len out pre criously over the blcony's edge to pinpoint the towers of grbge sttioned long the street. There is grbge strike, but t lest it is not summer, not time when the het would ferment inside the 153
blck plstic bgs nd you'd feel, s you pssed, the strined surfce swelling towrds you. She steps from the bed towrds me, the sheet she tkes with her nnouncing itself with rsp. Her rms re round me, but it's the soft fbric I feel first. I turn my hed towrds hers nd brush my chin long her sclp. I wtch my microwve nd toster oven ginst the fr wll, both lodged in rolling entertinment center, nd the door. The door is on the fr left of the plin white wll. A sign hngs bove it: No Entrnce Exit Only The room is bright nd the broken couch I'm sitting on, s long s my bck is ginst the wll, is cliff I'm scred to pproch the edge of. Ginesville never sleeps nd, here, with the shdes drwn, the strk light, the ceiling fn cutting the light into sections of sub liminl drkness, I m not sleeping either. I m imgining tht t some point tonight I will feel my fther's life be cut, his soul deprt, sudden subtle chnge noticed like the pssing of time strined through the hnds of wtch. It is Sundy, nd I think mybe the light will chnge, slight fluctution, nd it won't be cr's hed lights glncing off my window. Through the window the sights of York County, Virgini, flsh by. Trees, trees, strip mll, fst food resturnt, more trees, industril prk, nd trees. There is silence in the cr nd so, I guess you could sy, between my dd nd me. His truck, his diesel bby, llows me to inspect the roofs of ll the other non-truck trffic though it keeps me from surreptitiously lerning wht the lives re like in those other crs. I've sked him bout Vietnm, nd wht it's like to fly fighters, but I don't know the right questions. He's nswered me?there's never been unstisfied. question he's refused?but I'm still I relize, though I don't stop sking, tht I don't wnt nswers. There's nothing tht cn be written down tht will stisfy me. Wht he's gone through, wht my dd hs lived is intngible, untouchble, nd tht, tht is wht I wnt. I cn lmost feel him looking t me, glncing over, wondering wht I'm thinking. Why cn't we tlk? Hve we tlked? Is this wht tlking is? Or is this communiction? 154
He sys, "Andrew?" I turn bck. I m trying not to look t his fce. I men, I m try ing to try to not void his fce?bloted?or his skin?yellowed nd bruised where the tubes dive in?or the hospitl gown tht is only thin pretense of cover?stined ochre nd russet. His hert hs not been working so wter nd wste msses in his body, like workers prepring to strike or revolutionries scttered throughout the cpitl for revolt: At the signl. Becuse his hert hs not been working his blood cn be trcked, still purple, through its plstic circuit. The mchine tht keeps my fther live is quiet. I only stre t it short while, but it fscintes me, wtching my fther be swirled through tubes. Insted, I turn to my other fscintion, the horror of the thing "Hello, Dd." I m touching? "Hey, Andy." "I don't know if I cn sty here. Everything's gret in Cyprus. I relly like Din, nd we get long wonderfully, nd her fmily is gret. I just... I don't know, I just feel like I need to leve. Like I need to come home." I'm using Din's phone on Din's prents' blco ny on dy when the wether is fine nd dry. I cn feel the ocen in the ir, just like I feel the desert reching from the ground, reclim ing the concrete. My dd is silent. Behind me, I picture Din on the drk lether couch, focusing on the television. I picture one of her pintings: on blck bckground is mn's fce shrply defined by strokes of bright, lmost grish yellows, reds, nd greens, the strokes never touching. I look behind me. Behind me is mess, but n orgnized one. It hs been two yers, my entire life in Ginesville, nd there re still hlf dozen boxes stcked by my mttress of bed, unopened, unorgnized, redy to leve. Nobody ever comes bck to my bedroom, nywy, except me, nd I lwys knew this ws temporry. Except yer nd hlf go, in the fll, when friend hd prty where the min deliccy ws mix of white wine, chmpgne, nd strwberries. The prtment ws lid out with rooms running in line horizontl to the door nd I promptly took position in the middle room, where the punch ws, nd kept glss in hnd. The drink tsted bd t first, but soon I didn't notice the tste, downing five or six glsses in few hours. I remember, vguely, tht lter tht 155
night I ws stnding with full view of the kitchen nd there ws sink there, fortuitously full of dirty dishes. Three friends drove me bck here, took off my vomit-smered clothes, nd put me to bed. They knew then. They must hve known. One of them, Emily, gve me book when he died, pur ple, hrdcover journl with sympthy crd inside. I nmed it The Notebook of My Fther's Deth. Lights up. The stge is divided into two cler sections: the front nd the bck. Idelly, the bck is rised higher thn the front, mybe by two steps, nd the front extends cross wide pron divisible, t lest, into two further sec tions. The front is bre of furniture. The bck section is dominted by lrge room dining tble tht sets t lest ten. The tble is set with pltes, silver, nd npkins, nd severl lrge cndles burn long its side. ANDREW'S fther, enclosed by the ex mchin, is the centerpiece of the tble. The fint sound of mchinery, both in terms of beeps, whistles, etc. nd ctul mechnicl motion (think pistons), cn be herd. The stge is empty. I know the pper npkin in Din's pocket is empty, even though I hold out hope, t lest the possibility, tht it contins the hundred or so dollrs in drchms tht she gve the gypsy. It's her money, fter ll, so why should I cre? It's cold, the ground is wet from the morning's rin, nd the sky is sullen gry. We're not tlking. She gve the money to the old, toothless gypsy womn becuse the womn explined tht her bd luck ws in the money. Din gve the womn her money, the gypsy wrpped it in npkin, sid words over it, then gve the npkin bck. "Of course there is no money in the npkin," Din trnslted the gypsy's nswer to my question, "but in few hours, you'll see, by four o'clock the npkin will hve chnged bck into the money, in your pocket, nd your bd luck chnged with it." Tht ws hours go, nd now it's evident the grbge workers' strike hs ended?the streets re cler, if dulled by the wter. In this crowded city, for brief moment, we re the only two wlking down short lley. I tke her hnd. But it is not my fther's hnd tht finlly drives me from the room. The hnd feels wrm, norml, hnd-like. A sleeping The hnd of sleeping body. Sleep is kind of com. hnd. 156
It is the smell. The mchines re fine, with their subtle ssertions, nd so is the openness of the room?behind me there is no door. This smell, though, it must be the ntibiotics, the yellow smered ll over his body so his fce tkes on the pllor of jundice. It's not the bloting so tht his unshven berd clerly ends on his swol len fce simply becuse tht's where his hir stops growing, spot normlly on the throt, when the throt isn't pushed outwrds. The smell of something unnturl. Not deth. Not ntiseptic. Not filth. I hve turned my fce gin nd gin to his body on the bed nd it is not tht vision tht will push me wy. But I stnd nd wlk wy. PART IV Concessions This is not bout my fther. Sy five feet, five-two in height with blck hir ending well pst her shoulders. Her physique is smll nd thin, but defintly curved. In the first picture Din is in hllwy of school, her rms entngled with those of friend. Through the glss sides of the hll the sky is blue with few clouds over thick forest. Her fce is close to the cmer, close enough to see fine detils: striking eyebrows, nturlly hevy, but plucked to thin, unpologetic line; pixie's chin; lrge drk eyes; smile hiding teeth. In the second picture she is on porch, the steps of her fmily's hotel, with smll number of guests. She is more distnt here, stnding t the side of the group. Her pprent height is subdued through the illusion offered by the steps. I wnt to sy she is wer ing crem-colored skirt, one with tiny flowers scttered over it, but the picture is gone. The scene, though, the scene is distinct nd rel nd hs been repeted countless times: these trvelers hve mde their home here for while, plyed gmes, been drunk with the stff, nd hve left promising, of course, to return soon. We'll be bck next yer nd we'll bring ll of our friends! Don't rent our rooms out to nyone else. We loved the drinks. We loved the dinners. We loved the lights t midnight, Remember us! the coffee tonguing our noses in the morning. Mrried t nineteen to nother Cypriot, she went to university in the U.S. nd then styed until her husbnd, nme unknown, left her for mn. 157
In Cyprus the genders re strtified: the women rule the kitchen while the men tlk nd smoke cigrs. In her sister nd brother-in lw's house, this rrngement ment her brother, her brother-in lw, nd I plyed video gmes while she nd her sister prepred the food nd, fterwrds, while they clened up the mess. They toler ted me when I helped?i wnted to be prt of the converstion. Though she smokes, she doesn't tste like smoke, or if she does it's like tht chimney smoke from fireplce burning wethered ok tht's been beten down by the cold to your nose while wlking out to get the morning pper. She's curled into blck jcket tht's so thick it doubles her girth. This is Virgini, where she's never been, yet the tightly knit cp tht hords her sclp nd just brely llows her eyes freedom fits like drem. It is drem. I'm sorry?this is bout my fther fter ll. It is cold enough for cots, but the sun burns through clen Colordo sky to mke the mourners swet s the priest concedes his blessing. "Tps" is plyed by gry-hired mn who looks like high school music techer with big moustche nd rumpled, unbuttoned suit. Seven Air Force Acdemy cdets brely out of high school shoot their guns three times to the creful rhythm clled out by their commnding officer. Three of the shell csings re collected in velvet bg nd, long with newly folded flg, re hnded to my mother. My brother crries the two symbols for my mom nd, for convenience, tucks the bg of shells into the flg which, we won't find out till lter tht dy, our mom returns to the Acdemy?she lredy hd flg from my fther's retirement ceremony. Though he died four yers go, the funerl, the lying to rest of his shes?most of them?is hppening only now. I hve never seen this city before, nd chnces re I will never see his grve gin. They sy when Willim Kozm ws younger he ws wild, he ws cocky, he hd moustche. They sy he looked like Omr Shrif. They sy tht, long with the rest of the pilots, he once dressed up s prostitute for squdron prty, but he couldn't stnd his hiry chest sprouting from the top of strpless dress, only lsting ten minutes before being reduced to Bermud shorts. They sy he ws stnd-up guy. They sy he hd temper. They sy he'd lose fish, he'd lose expensive fishing ger, he'd lose his sunglsses ll over the side of bot, wtch ech twirl nd flip its wy to the bottom, then grb beer nd lugh. No, they didn't sy he ws Viking. They 158
didn't sy he ws teddy ber. They didn't sy wht he wnted to sy to his children when they were younger nd he ws involved with work, when distnces of ge precluded open converstion nd where the right questions to elicit the correct nswers couldn't even be conceived. And if they could be conceived, the nswers couldn't be understood. And if they could be understood, I ment this to be bout Din. She pinted from rinbow plette on blck bckground, portrits constructed of smll streks of pint, the blck running through it ll like the led in stined glss. She knew she ws good rtist, in drwing, pinting, nd cermics, nd her prents did too, but wht sort of occuption cn n rtist expect to hve? And why would someone wnt tht sort of "job" in the U.S., fr from her prents, her brother, her sister, ll her reltives? In Cyprus, her fther set up studio for her in n bndoned shipping continer. Here she cn throw cly on slightly used wheel nd still hve room for kiln to cook the brekble whole, ll only short distnce from the fmily-run hotel. This is fmily business nd wht fmily does for fmily busi ness is work for it. If you don't, then re you prt of the fmily? For long time, Din resisted working with her fmily t the hotel, preferring to pursue her own studies in the Sttes. After her husbnd left her she returned to Cyprus, her fmily, nd the hotel, even though the grind of hotel work ment she hd to push her rt to the side. Still, fmily hs its privileges. Through connections she is ble to rent pricey hotel room in Athens in choice spot nd show beu there her er. Her ers, you should know, re triggers for orgsms, or t lest for incpcittion. Why she told him, she doesn't know since it turns her into light switch. Directions for meeting your lover in foreign country: When rriving in foreign country, even one tht you re fmilir with, do not trust the txi driver tht escorts you from the irport. You re new (even if you've been here before) nd they cn tell from your ccent (even if you spek the lnguge) tht you're new nd freshly minted mrk. Keep your eye on the meter, or keep your eyes on the scenery spinning by nd relize tht when the txi stops the first thing you do is remove your luggge. Then, nd only then, will you listen to wht the txi driver sys (speking in lnguge he knows your lover doesn't understnd) nd py the exorbitnt 159
mount (you know you re being overchrged) to silence his voice, to wtch the cr speed off, nd mke your winding wy through the hurdles of hotel check-in until you rech your drkened room nd the lredy turned down beds. My fthers fce looks out from the bck of the house, the rest of his body hidden in the drkness of the room, obscured by the dim ness of the dy. Din nd I re in the bckyrd surrounded by bre trees. The whiteness of the sky is thick nd we look up together. She smiles, nd I smell wood smoke. This, too, hs not hppened. PART V Finl Frgments DIANA The question you hve been sking: How is she connected to the loss of your fther? But here there is double loss. We hd chnce t hppiness (how clich?d) or, t lest, reltionship nd it ws ended on whim. A feeling. There ws no excuse for my leving Cyprus, Din still in pin from surgery (still bleeding), except tht I knew I hd to go. If n imge is repeted gin nd gin, does it ccrue mening like minerls by the wter off cve's bndoned dripping ceiling, formtions grown in drkness nd never ANDREW Wht I don't tlk bout is the nine-month stretch between lev ing Cyprus nd rriving in Ginesville. I'm not sure I'm going to tlk bout tht now. Who remembers normlity, who remembers the bits of everydy hppi ness without sdness to spur them? Once the switch is flicked off. Once the house is stripped, clened, nd sold. Once the sky hs been blocked with n prtment building. Once the pge hs been written over. It's this bookend ed null spce tht doesn't mnifest in my memory. There is WILLIAM I'd write volumes but this single pge will hve to do. A yer before my fther died he sus pected he ws sick. He grew winded climb ing hill in Yorktown, n sphlt-covered, seldom-used rod up from the pier. Alwys ctive, lwys helthy (even if little over weight), his breth cught nd stlled. Soon fter he begn journl where he kept his fers seled, s in box, hid his growing wreness tht some thing ws turning in his body. At certin point, without medicl evidence, without dis 160
expecting the brush of light? The erth crcks open?up to the down to the lv. sky She spoke two lngug es, one mine, nd still we could not commu nicte. I ws obsessed or with mstering Greek nd speking with ll her tongues. The dic tionry I bought to trnslte The Life nd Times of Alexi Zorb goes unused, even to trnsform the lst note she wrote me into something I cn under stnd. Those Greek let ters on folded npkin tucked inside the tight bilingul dictionry sy something distinct bout love, she told me. And tht (her) lnguge divides love so well. Wht does it sy, tht English's encompsses thing while there words love every in Greek re seprte for "loving s friend" nd "loving with pssion"? Her lips crcked open to let my tongue in nd is tht s fr s no reson to obsess over wht went right, bout time well spent, bond more closely forged. A sfe never crcked nd, so, wht's vulted never checked, not even enough ir nd spce for dust to settle. X=Y Z=These witing or X=Z. months, for cceptnce to grdute school, could hve tied me up in love ffir, working nd living in Cyprus, settling exp trite memories on my hed like wreths. Those nine months would hve seeded my writing for the rest of my life, estblished some solid experience s foundtion for my words. Wht lives here is in the imgintion, golem mde of met phor. A hert hs been removed three times, replced n equl mount of times with different herts. Ech opertion ws sue cussion, tht he ws he ccepted dying. I don't know where it is nd I don't know why I don't know where it is but somewhere in my prtment is the lst letter my fther wrote me. Before going into the hospitl the finl time?of course, not knowing it ws finl? my dd wrote let ter for ech of us: my mother, my brother, nd me. Wht do I still hve of yours? A light green, hrdcover jour nl; vrious suits nd jckets, one tilored in Thilnd; boots, cow boy nd otherwise; wtch bnd?metl, custom-designed? with different wtch; the disese. See, there re two kinds of my loidosis: A) the extremely rre version tht strikes without precedent, without wrning B) the extremely rre version tht strikes 161
we understood ech other? We shred tense comfort, tense becuse wht together held us ws so tenu ous?two months of Internet interction nd declrtions of love. Is there word for love without physi cl presence? Is there word for love tht exists only in proxim ity to the chnce of pushing world? itself into the There were eight dys in Athens, nd she brely knew the plce better thn I. One night ws dedicted to resturnt on the edge of Athens fr edge) ner ( fr, wter where we te buf fet-style Greek mel. I remember the sld being smothered in lyer tht looked yogurt. The sky ws blck fbric so worn, nd so close, we could like see through it to the next dy, the next dy I wnt us to hve woken up in the sme bed (the hotel room hd two, the lyout she cess, though only two of us live?medicine hs ll the nswers, but lcks ll the ques tions. Y=These nine months don't pper ny where. I m on the blcony of Din's ment prents' tlking prt on the phone with my prents. This is the moment tht will be clled bck endlessly in the future, the deciding moment, decision like striking up converstion like striking up knowing wht mtch not exctly is ment to burn, when I tell my prents yes, plese, buy me ticket home. Nine dys from now I will be flying over the Aegen gin with perfectly cler view of the islnds nd the clouds like islnds bove them, the whole perfect recretion of Nrni from The Voyge of the Dwn Treder. Except the sun is bright bove the plne, nd bright bove me on the blcony nd, lis with I'm precedent, genetic hitchhiker tht's OK. This ccording little scred but connection? to my moth er?i'm not llowed to keep, not supposed let others know bout. My fther's legcy insurnce detriment. to is n Inside me there might be clock slowly wind ing down, the hir spring my fther left me methodiclly dis chrging its function. I hve red the letter twice. Some prts of it mke no sense, in context. Don't worry bout me. Any mention of hope. I tlked to my fther beyond this point in time, beyond this pen on pper, but those converstions re forgotten. I cn still remember his fce in his hospitl bed, but no voice, no words. Stupid s it my be, I wnt to remember smile. I do. 162
plnned for her room redesigned month before my rrivl) but my memory is not tht cler. I cn feel her skin, the sheet hlf-covering my body tht is slipped, like wll, ginst the bck of her body. We hve outlined the future (Wht is true: I find her fmily entrncing, their desire for Din's hppiness enhncing veil everything; We grow closer?love or simply ing??though understnd we still sleep in seprte beds) nd how we'll divide our time (Wht is flse: I'll sty until the summer, nd in those six months plce find job, to live, some irreprble connection with her life; Din will keep me s she did not her husbnd). In the moments her plne's rrivl before from Cyprus, I wit in the irport lobby. Though I know Din is ttrc tive, I know this fct in only two dimensions. Soon she'll be here nd tening to my prents' responses, I'm wre tht I don't know wht I'm doing or why. In Ginesville, s my fther's disese pro gresses without being recognized, I discover tht I believe wht is crzy. The reson only I cn come up with for leving Cyprus when I did, when I could hve styed ing directly te school, fther ws until lev for grdu is tht my sick. I did not know this. I did not know this. Still, went home nd spent to Virgini those nine months with my pr ents nd then he fell sick nd died. A scrifice is wht one chooses to give up. A rtionliztion is wht one concocts to snd wy guilt time. over I hven't seen my fther since his hert surgery, but now I m going bck to his room in intensive cre I Deth is point, the point where life ceses to exist. Deth is not stte. It is n un-, dis-, perhps Even n tom hs mss nd, therefore, consists re-. of something smller thn itself, something prtitionble, under stndble, ble to be put side, to be sved. In his lst yers my fther red more nd more bout spiritul ity, focusing mostly on religious scholrs? ny religion?deeply concerned with ques tioning their religion in order to shve wy obscuring, inrticulte detils. He ws con cerned with shedding the ego nd the ide tht, post-deth, the soul would recombine with GOD, rejoin the one, be the one. But wht life if we is the purpose of lose every thing we gined (hd forced upon us) while here? At soccer gmes my fther would be exiled to the empty section 163
wht? How do I tke beuty only seen hed on nd understnd its complexity from the side, how the ngle of vision dpts her nose, her her eyebrows, chin, how the brests define body differently from the side? A mn is sell ing roses the shde of red I will lwys ssoci te her with. He is sell ing flowers s pryers to those who wit. by myself. He is in com. There is no door outside this room where I cn collect myself, just spce in hllwy lined with similr rooms, nurses nd doctors shuttling between them. I will be unble to deny tht wht is in tht room is my fther, no mtter how bloted, how yel lowed, how unlike. I wnt lover's hnd in mine, n rm round my wist, murmur in my ers. In there, I don't wnt to be lone. Wht frightens tht I won't be. me is of the blechers. So wrpped up ws he in the gme my brother or I ws plying tht he wouldn't just yell or cheer, he'd kick out t the bll for us. A dis connect between the vision nd the ction, belief in the bility to influence wht you see hppening before you. If you're reding this things hven't worked out s we'd hoped. 164