The Hunchback of Neiman Marcus

The Hunchback of Neiman Marcus by Sonya Sones Read Free Book Online

Book: The Hunchback of Neiman Marcus by Sonya Sones Read Free Book Online
Authors: Sonya Sones
enough
    for me to snap a few pictures—
    the “before” photos,
    we call them.
    I bring the Nikon up to my eye
    and line up the shot.
    Samantha snuggles into her father,
    leaning her head on his shoulder.
    He circles her
    with his arms,
    resting his cheek
    against the top of her head.
    Have there ever been
    two more wistful smiles,
    two people so happy…
    and so sad?
    Michael,
    who never cries,
    squeezes his eyes
    closed.

WHEN I HUG MY DAUGHTER GOOD-BYE
    A part of me
    is almost hoping
    she’ll refuse to let go of me,
    like she did
    when she was five years old
    on the first day of day camp…
    On that sucker-punch morning in June,
    Samantha locked herself onto me
    like a human handcuff
    and began to sob, chanting a single phrase:
    â€œHow can you leave me with these people?
    How can you leave me with these people?”
    She was so distraught
    that her question began to make
    an odd sort of sense to me.
    How could I leave her with these people?
    How could I trust these strangers
    with my baby’s safety…?
    Now, as I clasp Samantha to my chest,
    it takes all my strength
    not to lock myself onto her.
    How
    can I leave her
    with these people?

I WILL MISS HER
    I will miss her more
    than fireflies miss summer,
    more than the drum
    misses the drummer,
    more than the wave
    misses the shore,
    more than the songs
    miss the troubadour.
    She’s been my hip hip
    and my hooray.
    I will miss her
    more than a poem can say.

THE CAPTAIN HAS TURNED ON THE SEAT BELT SIGN
    For seventeen years
    there have been three of us—
    enough to fill a whole row.
    Now,
    there’s an empty seat
    between my husband and me.
    A Grand Canyon
    between my husband
    and me.
    For the rest of our lives
    it’ll just be
    the two of us.
    Just we two.
    Just
    us.

THE TAXI DROPS US OFF IN FRONT OF OUR HOUSE
    Michael and I
    trudge up the front walk,
    lugging our suitcases
    and our dread behind us.
    The darkened windows of our house
    watch us with gloomy eyes.
    Even the roses
    look glum.
    I turn the key in the lock
    and shove open the door,
    bracing
    for the ringing silence.
    But instead—
    I hear Alice’s voice
    wafting in from the speaker
    on our answering machine.
    â€œâ€¦he was so stupefyingly boring that I fell
    asleep in my soup and nearly drowned!
    And then he wanted to have sex with me,
    can you imagine?
    â€¦Anyhow, I want to hear all about
    what it’s like in that empty nest of yours.
    But you guys are probably
    doing it on the kitchen table right now,
    so I’ll let you go…
    Call me when you’re done!”
    Michael and I
    would be laughing right now
    if we weren’t
    so unspeakably bleak.

OUR PEPPER TREE IS DEAD
    Root rot
    got her.
    But I can’t bring myself
    to ask Michael to cut her down.
    She stands
    outside my office window,
    the breeze sighing
    in her skeletal branches,
    her feathery leaves
    long gone.
    She’s dead, but her brittle arms
    still yearn toward the sun,
    latticeworking the yard
    with a sad spindly shade.
    Michael’s been spending hours
    sitting out in the yard, sketching her.
    How can I ask him to chop her down
    and cram her bones into plastic bags?
    How can I ask him
    to grind her stump?
    How can I ask him
    to remove every trace
    of she who once held
    my daughter in her lap?

SAMANTHA’S ROOM
    I walk down the hall
    and pass by her room,
    then take a step back
    and open the door.
    Omigod!
    What’s happened here?
    Where’s all the stuff
    that should be on the floor?
    Gone the scattered books and papers.
    Gone the heaps of dirty clothes.
    Gone the mounds of soggy towels—
    who would have thought I’d ever miss those?
    All those years
    I spent complaining,
    nagging her
    to clean it all…
    Why do I suddenly
    yearn for the chaos
    that used to drive me
    up the wall?

AT THE GROCERY STORE
    I reach for a bag of Ruffles.
    Then stop myself.
    Now that Samantha’s gone,
    who will eat them?
    I trudge from aisle to aisle
    not putting

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