NIGHT OUT

Then Fel and Tiny got into the Jeep and made their way to Olympia’s place where they were sure to get some more green. It was a short drive from Millsaps: down State Street, left onto Fortification, and then another left past New Theater onto Monroe Street and they were there—0007 Monroe Street. The neighborhood was simple for being in Belhaven. The developers dug down to give the neighborhood character, and in the process made uneven hills, poorly draining lawns, and roads quick to collect water and make pot holes.

            Olympia’s place was on one such hill. It was a simple-looking rancher, red and squatty. The yard was sacrificed to the slope of the hill and a half-paved driveway led up to its side door. There was no garage so Tiny or Fel or anyone else visiting Olympia would park in her back yard. 

            Tiny accelerated up the driveway and then suddenly put on the breaks. The girls lurched forward, and after a moment of pause began giggling.

            “Tiny, you’re fucked,” Fel said. “I swear you almost hit Olympia’s car!”

            “Nah,” Tiny said as she yanked the keys out of the ignition, “If I had, you would’ve felt it. I just wanted to give you a scare. I’m not fucked, Fel.”

            “Yeah, sure,” Fel said as she gave her friend a grin. They began giggling again.

            “I’m not! I’m not fucked!”

They got out of the car. It was quiet outside; no birds sang and no bugs stirred. The air was cold, but thick with springtime humidity. They walked up to their friend’s door in matching black Dr. Martens, corduroy shorts, graphic tees, and jean jackets. Fel got there first and opened the door while Tiny shouted:

            “Olympia! Get up, girl. We’ve got a party to go to!”

Muse, Olympia’s red Abyssinian, greeted the two with a loud meow and wound herself around Fel’s legs.

            “Oh hello pretty girl,” Fel said bending to scoop the cat up into her arms.

            “She always favors you,” Tiny said as she made her way down the hall to Olympia’s room.

            “Cause you’re such meanie dats why,” Fel said in an affected voice as she gave the cat a kiss on its head. The girls walked down the hall, past the kitchen, two bathrooms, and guest room, to Olympia’s den. The door was ajar and the scent of her dragon’s blood incense creeped out.

            “Get up bitch!” Tiny yelled as she pushed open the door with her left boot. The door flung back and hit the wall with a loud smack. Light from the hallway flooded in and illuminated Olympia, who lied belly up in bed with Sugar balled up on her stomach. She began to stir as Fel sat next to her. Tiny turned on the lights and picked up Sugar with eagerness. Sugar, Olympia’s albino ball python, seemed indifferent as he coiled himself around Tiny’s hands.

            “Hm-mm,” Olympia muttered, “N-no, don’t take Sugar.”

            “You can get him back once you get up Olympia,” Tiny said to the snake, “I called you like four times, bitch. C’mon we’ve got a party to get to and we’re late cause of your lazy ass!”

            “I don’t care about Carl’s party,” Olympia said turning on her side to face Tiny, “let’s just stay in. I’m tired. I just want to hold my snake.”

            “No,” Tiny said, putting the snake around her neck, “We’re going to celebrate Fel passing comps. If it’s a bore we can come back and get drunk or whatever but you’re getting up either way.”

            Olympia threw herself on her back, shoved a pillow on her head, and groaned.

            “It’s ok Olympia,” Fel said, loathing the melodramatics, “we don’t have to go out if you’re that tired.”

            “No, we’re going out,” Tiny said, “Fel’s not saving you this time, Olympia. C’mon. Get up.”

            Olympia let out a deep sigh and then took the pillow off her head. She swung her right leg, then her left over the bed, and with a sigh, got up. Her dark hair moved with her; dragging along the sheets as she got up; curled up at the ends, just below her waist, as she stood in her white chemise and fuzzy orange socks.

            “Ok, ok,” Olympia said, “I’m up. Now give me back my snake.”

Tiny picked up the snake and put it on Olympia’s shoulders.

            “Oh my baby,” she said as she lifted its white head and gave it a kiss, “Tiny is so mean isn’t she? Stealing you away from me while I slept.”

            “I’m mean?” Tiny responded “You never give Spice any love.”

            “That’s because he isn’t the cuddling type. He’s just for show.”

            “He better be good for something,” Tiny said moving to Spice’s tank, “since you paid a shit ton of money for him.”

            The black snake flicked its tongue at her; tensed its blue, lidless eyes.

            “Money is money.” Olympia said moving to her closet, “I’m more concerned with the things and less about the money, you know.”

            She turned on the closet light and disappeared through the doorway.

Tiny, bored with Spice’s indifference, moved to Olympia’s nightstand. She opened the drawer and pulled out a tea tin decorated with dozens of yin yang symbols. She popped open the top; the tin ringed; a sweet scent filled the room. Olympia said from the closet:

            “Make sure you give Fel some, Tiny,” the clothes hangers screeched, “Fel, you’re welcome to as much as you want.”

            Fel, who was holding a snoozing Muse, looked up at Tiny who was loading a dugout. Tiny grabbed the red lighter, and held the instrument out to Fel with two fingers. Fel took the dugout, placed it in her mouth, and leaned. With a click, the lighter ignited, burned the green. Fel inhaled, deep.

            “Don’t cough up your lung this time,” Tiny teased.

            Fel grinned, held the smoke in, then exhaled slowly. Sugar slithered out of the closet. Tiny gave Fel the lighter and went to pick Sugar up. Fel took another long, long drag; Muse purred and purred; Fel felt the vibrations in her ankles; she could feel herself getting further away from things; she flicked the lighter on and off ;on and off; the flame seemed different each time; she smiled watching the flame; she contemplated life; wondered if it was as brief as the flame; a second of light; a second of dark; on and off ;on and off; then she knew; she knew she was there; she knew she was there again.

            “Alright, alright,” Tiny said reaching out for the instrument, “It’s my go now.”

Fel grinned, fascinated by the ruby red of Sugar’s eyes and the gold in Tiny’s auburn hair. The snake’s skin seemed different, seemed to glow purple in the light.

            “You feelin’ it yet,” Tiny said, grinning, as she took the instrument and the lighter “you feelin’ it yet?”

***

            They got the dates wrong. Carl’s party wasn’t until next week. Olympia was outraged at wasting so much good foundation, but, she settled down once hunger set in. The girls debated and then decided on pancakes. The only place open at 1am was the new Denny’s in Ridgeland and since they were already on N. State Street they decided to stay on it. Olympia insisted on driving.

            Olympia brought the top down on her Mustang. Her dark hair whipped about as she drove and swerved around potholes at a break-neck speed. She drove in the opposite lane to avoid the potholes, thankfully the roads were clear.  They listened to “Gucci Gang” for giggles, “7 Rings” for singing, and “Treat Her Better” for reflecting.

            At the light on East Northside Drive, they ran into a detour. Olympia, despite the detour signs, got lost in the neighborhood they were touring through. Distressed, she stopped at a stop sign, put the car in park, and got out her phone. Tiny, red-eyed said:

            “I knew you’d get us lost, Olympia. This is why I should drive.”

            “Shut up,” she responded, “We’re not lost. We just aren’t on the right street.”

            “I have to pee,” Fel said.

            Olympia and Tiny groaned.

            “Can’t you hold it, Fel? We’re literally like five minutes away.”

            Fel, red-eyed, mumbled to herself and nodded.

            “I guess, I guess,” she said.

            “Give me the aux, Olympia,” Tiny said as she pulled the cord from Olympia’s phone.

The radio made a loud thump, followed by static. Tiny put the cord in her phone, pulled up YouTube, and began contemplating what she wanted to listen to. The car hummed, and so did the night. The night was full of sound. Fel heard it all. There were birds singing, bull frogs croaking, cicadas humming.

            A single street light shone on the girls. It seemed artificial to Fel. She wanted to pluck the street light out of the ground like it was one severely overgrown dandelion. The light it made was too orange; the shadows it made were too sharp; it made their whole predicament seem like a movie scene. It didn’t help that the roads were empty and the houses were dark. Nothing stirred and yet the air was full of sound—but not domestic sound. There weren’t dogs barking or cat’s yowling or housewives bickering on the porch. It was just the noise of bugs and frogs. The same, run-of-the-mill nighttime noise. Fel began to wonder if the sounds were authentic; if it really was produced from bugs and frogs. It could easily just be a recording of some other loud night, she pondered, that was now played by loud speakers. Fel looked around. Perhaps, she thought, the speakers were behind those darkened houses, or better yet, up in those oaks and pines confined behind those flimsy fences. They could hide a speaker in those cypress shrubs or in that mailbox or behind that fire hydrant.

            Fel was certain that it was all fabricated. The houses were fake. The trees were too. Soon, she thought, a camera crew would appear from behind the thick shrubs and trees and darkened windows and Fel’s suspicions would be confirmed. Then she’d ask them to take her to the bathroom, and afterwards, she’d eat pancakes. She strained her ears to find the source of the sound, to ascertain her theory, but it seemed to come from everywhere. She began to doubt her theory.

            “Hey there,” Fel heard Tiny say.

            She looked away from the empty houses and saw Tiny leaning out the side of the car.

Tiny was picking something up, something dark and moving. It was a cat.

            “Olympia, I found you another cat,” Tiny said.

            Olympia glanced over at the cat then focused on her phone again.

            “Let me hold it,” Fel said too loudly.

            “Only if you say please,” Tiny teased.

            “Please,” Fel said, “pretty please.”

Tiny turned in her seat and passed Fel the cat. Its black coat glittered in the light and it stared at her with unnerving blue eyes. But, as soon as it landed in her lap it pushed its head against her chin, flicked its tail, and purred intensely. Fel stroked its back and declared “We’re keeping him!” just as Olympia put the car into drive and accelerated into the night.

***

            “I can’t believe they haven’t noticed yet,” Tiny said as she stuck half a strip of bacon down her buttoned-up jacket.

            “I’m sure they notice. They just don’t care. It’s almost 2am now,” Olympia said. 

            “No, they’re oblivious,” insisted Tiny.

            “He’s being so good,” Fel cooed, “and Tiny’s so fat how could they notice?”

            “Fuck you,” Tiny, snickered, tossed a napkin at Fel.

            “Oh, come on,” Fel said, “you’re as thin as my pinkie finger, Tiny.”

            “And you’re as ugly as my ass,” Tiny retorted.

            They both laughed. Fel leaned in close and whispered:

            “No, but seriously, seriously. Tiny,” Fel looked around, “are you high?”

             They laughed again. Tiny stuck more bacon down her jacket. Olympia started on her second banana milkshake, and scrolled through Instagram with one deft and finely manicured finger. Fel watched her finger move, transfixed.

Then, something pulled her gaze away. A waiter dropped a glass. Fel saw it fall slowly, like a fat drop of rain, then break and ripple along the floor in white glitter. The sound came after. The waiter apologized to no one, and left to fetch a broom, Fel predicted, but returned with a wet floor sign. He placed it over the glittering glass. A young man sitting close to the disaster scene laughed at his book.

Behind him were three couples. The three couples sat in three booths; two in booths against the window and one in a booth by the door. Fel watched them.

The first couple, furthest from the door, was the youngest; probably no older than twenty. They shared a milkshake, hands entwined on the table. Giggling. Shiny-eyed. Leaning in to sip from their respective straws. They were opposites. Fel saw them in profile. The man was dark. The woman was light. He wore white; she wore black. White light from the street, and orange light from the restaurant sign mixed around them. 

The second couple, also in front of a window, sat discussing something. They were similar in dress—both wore pink shirts. The woman had her hair half up and half down. Her neck hung a bit, showing her age. Her hands were fixed tightly around a tiny cup of coffee. She seemed controlled in her demeanor, brisk, straight-forward. The man nodded his head, and when it was his turn, he spoke and gestured with his hands. His eyes were wet. Fel spotted, even from her distance, the bright streak of grey in his dark hair.

The third couple was by the door. They were identical, hunched figures in black. Fel studied them the most. She waited for movement. They remained still. Fel began to believe that they were statues.  Tomb effigies, made of ivory and ebony. The two white faces drooping from long black frames; commemorating a final outing. Immovable markers of a past life. How long, she wondered, would they last in that booth? What kept them so still? What kept them together?

            “What,” Fel said turning to Tiny, “keeps us together?”

            Tiny looked up from her jacket.

            “Olympia’s money,” she said with a snicker. The cat poked its head out. Fel noticed that it had a bright pink nose.

            “No, I’m serious,” Fel said a bit loudly, “why are we friends?”

Tiny pet the cat’s ears. It relaxed and began to descend back into her jacket.

“Because,” Tiny said, “it just happened that way.”

“Are you getting philosophical on me?”

“Maybe.”

The cat purred from its hiding spot.

“What are we going to name him?”

            “Let’s name ‘im Steve or something stupid like that,” Tiny said.

            “No, no,” Fel said, “he’s special. We’ve got to give him a special name. I mean it was fate that brought him to us.”

            “Olympia, what do you think?” Tiny asked.

            “I say we name him Black.”

            “That’s worse than Steve,” Fel said.

            “I think he’d make a fine Steve,” Tiny said.

            “Steve creates no vibrations,” Fel said as she twirled her fork.

            “Heh,” Tiny grinned, “Ok, Oscar Wilde. What do you suggest?”

            “Xanadu,” Fel nodded her head, “Xanadu, after that poem, you know?”

            “You’re the English major, Fel,” Tiny said, “So you know it, not me.”

            “You knew Wilde.”

            “Yes, but only because I was a thespian in high school.”

            “Who did you play?”

            “That,” Tiny said pointing at Fel, “is classified information.”

            “You were probably Lady Bracknell.”

            “I’m sure you’re dying to know, but I won’t tell you.”

            “No fun. Olympia, get her to tell me.”

            “All I want to do right now,” Olympia sighed, “is to get back home. I miss my snakes.”

            “Yeah,” Tiny nodded, “yeah we should probably start heading back.”

            “I’ve got the check,” Olympia said as she motioned for the waiter.

            The same waiter that dropped the glass appeared. He nodded to Olympia and went to the register for the check.

            “‘Atta girl,” Tiny said.

            “Thanks, Mom,” Fel said.

            “Yeah, yeah,” Olympia replied.

            While they waited, Fel glanced over to where the old couple sat. Their booth was empty. This discovery, for some reason, made Fel very, very sad.

***

            It was nearly 4am but the girls were still awake. After more green, they drank honey-sweetened milk and took turns putting records on Olympia’s blue-tooth infused Victrola record player. The room was thick with the scent of incense. Tiny went out on the porch for a cigarette. Fel followed, and listened to Tiny explain the irrelevance of direction in space.

            “…Like I was saying, if it was completely dark right now,” she said, “you wouldn’t know up from down would you? It only matters if you can see one thing separate from the other…”

            Fel listened, less concerned with Tiny’s theories and more concerned with the water that flowed, like a small river, over the lawn. How easily the water flowed over that still earth. She wanted to know where it came from, but never ventured to find out.

            “…kind of like society nowadays,” Tiny continued, “We’re surrounded by all this information that nothing matters anymore. There’s no space between what we know and what we don’t. Everything’s got an answer so there’s no room for ‘what if’…”

            Fel thought the water looked like a ribbon, like a silver ribbon, with the light from the street lamps in it, giving it color. She was content with it being a ribbon beginning nowhere and ending somewhere over that little hill.

            “…And that’s why I answered your question the way I did. I don’t know why we’re friends, really. I could say its love or curiosity or whatever, but I really don’t know. And I don’t wanna know, you know? I just like that we’re together; that we can chill and there’s no stress. You know what I mean?”

            When Tiny and Fel went back inside, Olympia was strumming a dulcimer and two-stepping with Sugar and Spice around her neck. Tiny asked Olympia where she got the dulcimer, but Olympia’s eyes were closed and she didn’t answer. She swayed with her snakes and plucked the strings ignorantly.

The room was red—she changed the light bulb—and Muse sharpened her claws against the leg of the love seat. Fel put on Galuppi’s “Toccata in F Major” and played Mancala with Tiny for the right to name the new cat. By the end of it all he was named Xanadu Stevenson Cheerios Rudolph III. They ate all of the snacks—all of the Doritos, Cheese-Its, hummus, pita chips, ice cream, popcorn, Oreos, and blueberries.

            By half-past 4, Olympia was asleep on the couch, and Fel and Tiny played tic-tac-toe on each other’s arms with blue Crayola markers. When they noticed Olympia asleep, they carried her to bed and tucked her in. Tiny put the snakes back in their tanks and Fel threw away all the empty snack boxes and bags. The girls were set to go when Olympia called them from her room.

            “Don’t leave me,” she said, “I-I mean, you can stay if you want.”

So Fel and Tiny changed into Olympia’s spare pajamas and fuzzy socks and got into bed with her. Muse and Xanadu joined soon after.

            “Goodnight, Tiny,” Fel said.

            “Goodnight, Fel,” Tiny said.

            “Goodnight Olympia,” Fel said.

            “Goodnight Fel,” Olympia said.

            “Goodnight Olympia,” Tiny said.

            “Goodnight Tiny,” Olympia said.

And five minutes after five they were all asleep, girls and cats alike.