Contrails (chapter 1)

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Contrails gutted the sky when it was still blue, while it was still breathing.
 

I know this is in color because I can still see the salmon painted walls.  And the stenciled, flat green Ivy that borders each closet, archway and window- that’s very vivid also. This isn’t in black and white like it was before:

I sat on the bed while she dressed.
Esther said she was sad.
I said nothing.
Out of the side of my eye, I saw the dark shape of her skirt being pulled into place over her hips. Zipped, buttoned, smoothed.
Her legs were soft, lean, though she never exercised; they were beautiful. She shaved them all the way up to the top of her thighs but there was no need to, she had very little body hair. She bent over the bed, over my legs, to grab a shirt on the other side. She could have walked around. The skin on her breasts was thin like paper, veins glowing like blue filament. They were bigger than mine, deserving of the real lace and silk bras she kept them in. This bra was grey satin, like the monsoon sky that threatened to keep me here. It matched her underwear which were now hidden.

What I can see most clearly when I think about the last time I saw her is her mouth. Her teeth with the top two protruding just enough, bigger than the other teeth, over-biting the inner part of her plump bottom lip. They were the kind of lips that caused visions and left you flushed and ashamed. They didn’t look like lips at all.

The next morning I would leave Phoenix. I was saying it would be for good. And it would turn out to be true.

"I'm going to miss you."
Her eyes were on me, followed me if i moved. She watched in a way that made it seem like she was looking somewhere else. This desperation of hers conjured things about myself that I hated.

"Are you mad at me?"
Mad? I had no words. None that I would give to her. And why should I be mad?
For eating my last bowl of lucky charms a few years earlier? Maybe that was kind of a big deal; if I didn't have breakfast when I first got up, I wouldn’t be able to cope with the rest of the day. She knew that about me.  But that was a stupid reason to be mad, it wasn’t the Lucky Charms.

"I should come with you. I don't want to be with Tom anymore. He's freaking me out. I bet I could get my mom to buy me a ticket. Do you want me to?"

Fuck Tom. I refused to answer. 
I had become a cliche and built a wall. That's what you do when you can't use drugs anymore. Its called outwitting your sobriety. Keep those splintery neurons sanded down- like self induced Electroshock Therapy or a psychic lobotomy. She was smart, surely she was aware of my strategies by now.  No one could get through what I had crafted; it was a mother fucker of a wall.

"Claire, are you gonna talk?"
I kept my eyes on the pages of my book, the one I had planned to read during my flight out of that hell.  My eyes moved from left to right and back like a conveyor belt conveying nothing. I couldn’t see the words.
 

"Do you like this lipstick? You can have it. Its a good color for you. Here, come here."

She gently sat next to me, opened the lipstick and leaned in to my face.

"I dont want it," I said, my jaw stiff, not wanting to let any words pass from my mouth to her ears..
"Just wait, just wait," she whispered, her breath reaching my nostrils. "hold still."
I held my already thin lips tight and held my breath so as not to breathe in any more of her air. She dabbed a deep, blood red Lancome on them. Her own mouth puckered in sympathy. It was a childish look for her, all puckered up, but she was just a child still. I knew this, but everyone else took her for a woman.

I got up and walked outside. It was hot. Always. Late September, late monsoon. The light was changing enough to give the illusion of something different, a promise of better days. 
The house I lived in was nice. It may have been cedar that shingled the outside of it, creating a look of wealth. There were nice trees and plants and even roses in the yard. I think of this house and I see the sky, but that happens when I recall any place I've ever been: the sky. Always a different sky. Never the same one.  
 
I didnt smoke cigarettes anymore so standing outside had just become standing outside. I tried new things, like looking at leaves and flowers, seeking out something beautiful about them, but it wasn’t enough to dull the sharpness in my brain. Trying to force calm and beauty made everything worse and just increased the constant skull pressure that felt exactly like when you take Black Beauties or some other cheap, drugstore speed.  The skin on your head becomes icy and stretched  like you have been half scalped, but at the last minute you were spared,and the dangling leftover scalp was pulled tightly across your brain and bones to make a new one.  
 
I was without a crutch. I had banished drugs, even legal drugs. Even the ones that would help me. I refused to take the most benign baby aspirin for fear of death, for fear of being shot into another dimension, for fear of losing control. Control: an essential ingredient of solid walls.
 
She followed me outside. Didn't even look up at the sky, which was charged with dark clouds and warnings.  Her open palm extended out to me.
"Want some?"
A small pile of Skittles: another peace offering. The purples were missing.
"No," I said. The very last thing she'd ever get from me.
 
 
The next day a plane would take me away from everything I had failed, that had failed me. It would take me from the girl I had fallen for without realizing it. In full blown panic, I would try and read the same book I'd used as a prop against Esther's presence the last time I had seen her. Trying to decipher a jumble of words, I would scan the same paragraph over and over for the entire flight (when not crouched in the bathroom praying that the plane not crash, or on the toilet unable to stop my bowels from purging all the poison emotions )  Once, after my guts were emptied and I had cried enough tears that left the walls bigger and stronger with me in the center feeling more serene like in death,  I would come to the end of page 20 only to realize I hadn’t seen a word, but had only seen her mouth and her hands. Her hands were strong but her handshake was weak. She did that on purpose.
 
My two favorite versions of her: when we first met and she was 15 and she loved the Doors and Michael Jackson. We were oiled summer girls at Big Surf where a giant wave machine churned out chlorinated desert ocean; And years later, when she came back from a stint of living with her dad in San Francisco. She had turned dark and very interesting. Black Victorian skirts dragging behind her, black hair dyed blacker,shaved on one side, Siouxsie and the Banshees t-shirt, baggy and cut to hang low enough to expose the top of a black lace bra. She seemed smarter and deeper than before. We were going to become Wiccans. We thought we had powers. That was when we understood each other again. We were excited to be back together. We had plans.
But my plans would change and do that ridiculous thing with 'life is what happens while you making other plans"
.
Her plans would change too, but she would die.
 
"Death is what happens when your'e making other plans...."
 
My sweet Esther.
 

 

Annotations and comments

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I think what may make the first line problematic is this word. After the elegance of the first sentence, "the following information" seems clunky. Perhaps "what I see" instead?
hmmmm, I think youre right. especially the word 'information'. it sounds stupid now that I'm looking at it.
I have a hard time connecting this first line to the next few. It's a nice line but I can't see these two looking out the window in this scene.
Yeah, I guess it's confusing. It's supposed to be more of a preface. Thanks for reading, I appreciate it!
Or not a preface.....I don't know what it would be called.
works beautifully for me this line. yes there are questions, but the color as a bridge is enough for me. it prepares me for a poetic situation. if you'd begin with the slaughtering of an andalusian dog and blood on the floor there might be an issue...but it's a gentle start (like it).
Thanks, Marcus! I missed this comment earlier.
I actually like how this line is enigmatic and disconnected. It's not a preface as much as it gives insight into the character. or perhaps a meditation. Whatever, I hope you keep it.
This sounds kind of stupid but I'd prefer not to see these dashes at the beginning of direct speech...a real detail but the text otherwise flows so well. the line breaks are good though...
Jana, This reads very precise, very simple and beautiful in its simplicity. I was interested in the characters right off. Throughout the entire piece there is this natural, fluid rhythm to the prose. I think the next thing this needs is to scan it for places where it might be clunky, or where a sentence could use another draft (or more) until it feels right to you, until everything is as smooth as its strongest parts. Also, it might help to insert some spaces between the paragraphs so your words and your readers can breath some. Have you heard of or read Beautiful Children by Charles Bock? I think you might like it. I'm thinking of a section from AGNI that ran in 2000: That Way They'll Know I'm Alive

Thanks for posting your work. -Ryan
Thanks Ryan, I will try and find the clunky parts...sometimes they're not so easy to spot until I've had some distance from what I'm working on. And even then, Im a crappy editor.
i rather think that what others may call "clunky" or dense works very well in this language you're using. (also, do love ryan's reading suggestions...so good).
Maybe I should specify what I mean by clunky. I mean I think most of us, when we write an early draft, something good finds us and we ride it for awhile. Then we run out of momentum and start pushing. I've found I do this all the time and that when I go back later, I'll see an additional phrase muddying an otherwise strong description or sentence. In this piece an example would be

"The skin on your head becomes icy and stretched  like you have been half scalped, but at the last minute you were spared,and the dangling leftover scalp was pulled tightly across your brain and bones to make a new one."

I'd strike from "but at the last minute" to the end. Feel free to disagree. Or you could keep the idea of the latter half of the sentence and try to build a new sentence or refine what you're working with. For me, the sentence ultimately tells me when it's done, if I'm listening closely enough. On another note, for some reason even though "icy and stretched" contradicts itself in meaning, to me it works and reads very strong, like something you'd find in a poem by Neruda or possibly another Chilean. I'm not sure which though...
Gosh, this close editing is fascinating but I fear for Jana's space—just to say that I agree with the 2nd suggestion, namely to pick up the 2nd part and build it up. I often find myself in that situation you described, even more so because my brain is, after all, wired for German and hence my 1st draft sentences tend to go ON and be very nested (drives my wife who's my 1st reader, nuts).
Just doing my best to help. It seemed like there was a question about further specificity.
Ryan, You were being helpful, it's fine, and I appreciate it A LOT. I don't know a damn thing about editing. I suck at that whole process.
hopefully, no one saw how much I snipped from my first reply. It was nothing against you, more that I can just go on and on about all sorts of nonsense. Which is funny because that's what this whole thread stemmed from. :)
Marcus- so you are suggesting I do this: "Or you could keep the idea of the latter half of the sentence and try to build a new sentence or refine what you're working with" ......can you give me an example? Not only am I not in an editing frame of mind these days.....I just am not that good at it to begin with. Thanks for helping, also!
If her lips were a jazz song, what would be the title?
This is the first name in the story. I and "her" need names.
I understand the narrator is on a plane, remembering this moment, but this sentence was confusing when I read it the first time.
yeah, I do that intentionally, but I also want to make sure it works.
she's not on a plane, the plane is her remembering forward. :) like what the queen in 'Through the looking glass' refers to: 'It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards. But again, I dont want to confuse the reader so I must figure this out.
this is a nice line.