Trauma Read Free Page B

sheet, climbed on top of her, and pulled up her nightgown. The clock faintly illuminated her big, rounded breasts and her big, rounded stomach. She said, “Duke—no—” and tried to pull her nightgown down again, but Duke forced her thighs apart.
    â€œYou and that goddamned Ralph Kosherick. You and that—
goddamned
—Ralph—Kosherick.”
    She felt him between her legs, as soft as a baby mouse. He put his hand down and tried to squish himself into her, but he couldn’t. He pushed his hips forward, grunting with effort. Bonnie lay patiently and waited for him to stop trying, which he eventually did. He dropped on top of her and sobbed into her ear, his stubble scratching her neck and his tears dripping over her shoulder.
    She gave him little pecking kisses and stroked his pompadour. It was so much thinner these days.

Things to do on Wednesday
    Bonnie kept a small Ninja Turtles notebook in her purse, which Ray had given her when he was twelve. There were only a few pages left, and she was going to hint that she needed a new one soon. She took out her red ballpoint pen and made a list of everything she had to do today.
    Collect dry cleaning from Star-Tex
Remind Ralph about Moist-Your-Eyes promotion
Meet Susan for lunch 1:30
Collect truck tire
Buy pork chops, ice cream, bathroom tissue
Call Mike Paretti re insecticide
    She had heard from Pfizer that there was a powerful new chemical for clearing out screwworms andshe was interested to know if Mike had tried it. She was disgusted by maggots and blowflies and other parasitical insects, but at the same time she found them fascinating. An expert entomological pathologist could often tell from the parasites in a person’s body just when they had died, and how, and even where they had been killed. There was something else about parasites, too. It was their total disregard for human beauty and human tragedy. They were blind to everything but their own appetites.

The Day Job
    Ray came into the kitchen, yawning, his hair sticking up like Stan Laurel’s. He opened the fridge and stared into it for almost half a minute. Then he closed it again.
    Bonnie finished off her list, folded it and tucked it into her purse. “You’re up early.”
    â€œUrgghhh … I have to finish my math homework.”
    â€œYour father didn’t keep you awake, did he?”
    â€œOnly me and half of greater Los Angeles.”
    He took a loaf of bread out of the larder and spread three slices with peanut butter, almost a half inch thick. Then he cut up two bananas and arranged them on top of each slice. He switched on the television, folded up the first slice of bread and started to eat it. He ate the same thing every morning. He hadread in some men’s health magazine that bananas and peanut butter helped you to put on weight.
    The kitchen was painted bright yellow, with bright yellow checkered curtains. In the morning sunshine, it looked like the set for a 1960s cornflakes commercial. Sydney Omarr, the psychic, had once told Bonnie that yellow was her lucky color. He had also told her that she would see more death than most people see in thirteen lifetimes. She hadn’t believed him, but that was four years before she had started Bonnie’s Trauma Scene Clean.
    She said, “Your father’ll get over this. You wait and see.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” Ray was absorbed in watching
Scooby Doo
.
    â€œHe’s a good man, really. He finds life …
confusing
, that’s all.”
    She stood by the sink, finishing her decaf. She looked at Ray, expecting him to turn around and say something, but he didn’t. After a while she tipped away the rest of her coffee, rinsed her mug and gave him a kiss on top of his chaotic, sweaty hair. “I’ll see you at six. I shouldn’t be later than that. Pork chops tonight.”
    â€œâ€˜Kay, Mom.”
    There was a pause. Then she said, “Ray.”
    He didn’t answer. He