The Girl in the Flammable Skirt Read Free Page B

unused. I-can-eat-like-normal, he said in a strange halted clacking tone due to the plastic disc that covered and protected what was left of his mouth like the end of a pacifier. The-doctors-are-going-to-put-new-skin-on-in-a-few-weeks-anyway. Skin-from-my-palm. He lifted up his hand and looked at it. That-will-work, I-guess, he said. It-just-won’t-be-quite-the-same.
    No, said Mary, it won’t. That bomb, she said, standing on the other side of the chair, you know it took the last real kissfrom you forever, and as far as I can remember, that kiss was supposed to be mine.
    That night in bed, he grazed the disc over her raised nipples like a UFO and the plastic was cool on her skin. It felt like they were in college and toying with desk items as sexual objects. Her boyfriend of that time, Hank: Let’s try a ruler. Let’s measure you, Mary. Let’s balance a paperweight on my dick. I’m over that, Mary thought. I want lips now. I just want the basics.
    She didn’t say anything, but began to shop at the other grocery store again.
    The young man there had always had lips but now they seemed twice as large and full and incredible, as if his face was overflowing with lip. While he ran her milk and eggs and toothpaste over the electronic sensor, she couldn’t stop looking at them, guessing what they tasted like. The warm, salty taste of flesh.
    Good to see you, he said, moving those lips. It’s been a while.
    Mary blushed and fiddled with the gum at the counter.
    Just take a pack, he told her. I won’t tell.
    Really? She looked at the flavors and picked cinnamon.
    Sure, he said, smiling at her, glancing around to see if his manager was in sight. Think of me while you chew.
    She blushed again, pocketed the gum and then grabbed her two full bags in both arms.
    Need help? he asked. Let me help you.
    Okay. She passed the weight to him, and he walked her to the car which was parked near the river. While he placed the bags into the trunk, she was taken by the desire to join them. She wanted to sit in there and invite the man in with her, shut the trunk down and lock it and just make love and eat groceries until they suffocated or her husband needed the car.
    Back at home, Steven was in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. Mary stood and watched him touching the disc with his fingertips, a bag under each arm, until he felt her and turned around.
    Honey, he said, back-so-soon! He took the bags from her, peered inside them and -oohed- and -aahed- over her food choices.
    Oh-Mary, he said, God-I-missed-you-so-much. In-that-ditch, when-I-thought-of-you, I-saw-an-angel. His voice broke. I-saw-Mary, my-angel, in-this-house, with-these-bags. You-brought-me-back-home. He reached out his hand and fingers trickled down her arm.
    She kept her back to him and shoved tin cans into the cupboard. Maybe, she was thinking, if you’d concentrated better you’d still have lips. Maybe you’re not supposed to think of your wife at the market while people are throwing bombs at you. Maybe you’re supposed to protect certain body parts so she’ll be happy when you come back.
    But instead she just piled the cans one on the other, edge to edge in tall buildings, kidney beans on top of tuna. She turned to Steven.
    You’re alive, she said, and hugged him. You’re Steven. He pressed the disc hard to her cheek and kissed her, - - -, and she held herself in and tried not to shatter.
    Steven ate more than she remembered so she was back at the market in two days. The young man was there, and she offered him a stick of the same cinnamon gum. He grinned at her.
    Thanks, he said, taking a piece.
    She touched the back of his hand while he was writing her driver’s license number on the check, and said, Do you take care of yourself?
    He looked up at her. What do you mean?
    I mean, what if they called you to fight in the war? Her hand was stilled on his.
    He snapped his gum. He drew a little gun on a corner of her check. No, he said, I don’t think I