Flesh and Bone by William Alton Read Free Book Online Page A

to move too much. I don’t want the feeling to fade. The pain’s mostly gone now, but the fullness, the feel of someone moving into me lingers.
    The beer is warm and bitter. It washes the taste of salt from my mouth and catches in my throat. I cough and roll onto my back. Harold rests a hand on my belly, his fingertips soft in the hair just starting to grow there.
    â€œDid you like it?” he asks.
    â€œI did.”
    â€œWant to do it again?”
    â€œI want to give it to you.”
    â€œTo me?”
    â€œTo you.”
    He bites his lip. His eyes narrow.
    â€œI don’t think so,” he says.
    â€œNo?”
    â€œI don’t do that,” he says.
    â€œNever?”
    â€œNot today.”
    I close my eyes. Not everything goes your way, not even when it’s all about love.

Smack
    I LIE ON the couch, sick, high, heavy with heroin. Ed’s on the floor, sprawled on the carpet, nodding. My eyes roll in my head. My tongue is thick. Something sour covers my tongue. Posters paper the walls. The room is dim, a single lamp on the nightstand.
    â€œJesus,” Ed says.
    â€œNo shit.”
    I nod and time becomes fluid, slipping through my fingers like water running over skin. Outside, somewhere, a dog barks. Ed’s mother is in the living room watching television. The noise soaks through the walls, muted and strange. I cannot move. I cannot think. Ed crawls to the radio. Music rushes out of the speakers and pounds against my skin. My bones turn to sand, shifting and grinding.
    Light glows in the window, yellow and warm. Dreams slip through me. I cannot tell what is real. Ghosts come and chatter at me. They whisper my name over and over. I close my eyes. Everything fades. Everything turns to darkness and I’m free.

Basement
    B LACK S ABBATH SCREAMS from the radio. There are no windows, only concrete walls papered with concert posters and a concrete floor padded with thick rugs. We all lie around on couches, in chairs and on the floor. Waves of color ripple through the room. Green and silver tracers twist and dance. There is a weird kind of music, noises coming from the ceiling, the walls, the floor.
    â€œCan you see that?” Richie asks.
    â€œBack home,” Mina says. “We ski to school.”
    She comes to the couch and lies on top of me. The weight of her body is comforting. I cannot fade away with her there. I cannot disappear.
    â€œYou’re so pretty,” she says.
    Her face is swollen. Her teeth strain against her lips. Light pours from her eyes. She is divine, beautiful, solid. I kiss her throat and I feel her heart beating there.
    â€œBack home,” she says. “Sex is just sex.”
    I cannot think about that right now. There’s too much noise, too much light. People watch us. I cannot fuck with an audience.
    â€œThis is not cool,” she says.
    I close my eyes and I can smell her lying on top of me. She smells of soap and a little sweat. She smells of cigarette smoke and make up. I kiss her throat again. I kiss her lips.
    â€œThis is nothing,” she says. “I’ve been here before.”
    I don’t know what that means, but as long as she’s with me, I’m safe. She’ll show the way out, the way home. She’ll make everything okay. So I hold tight and she looks at me with her blue eyes.
    â€œDon’t let go,” she says. “If you let go, the whole thing will come crashing down.”

When She Goes Out
    I T SNOWS. I T doesn’t stick, but it snows. Big, fat flakes falling in the wind. I watch it from the living room window. Mom comes in from the dining room.
    â€œI have a date tonight,” she says.
    â€œIt’s snowing.”
    â€œI have a date with Bobby tonight,” she says.
    I’ve only met Bobby once. He drives a semi and stops at the restaurant to see Mom. He orders steaks and rice, asparagus and beer. He sleeps in the semi.
    â€œYou should see it,” Mom says.