100 Proof

She built a house at the edge of the saltwater pond, and swam there every morning when the weather was good enough. It was green, the pond, on days when the light reminded her of the heat of his smile, and she felt the salt drawing all the liquid out of her skin, plucking at her memories until she emerged, warm and shivering at the same time, naked with anticipation for the new.

At lunchtime, we learned a body had been found floating in a suitcase in the Bay.

This is why I’m a vegetarian, said the receptionist, who had chosen a hummus and vegetable wrap for lunch that day—no knife required. I can be disgusted by the story, not by the story AND my lunch.

The rest of us examined the slab-like chicken breasts on our salads.

I think this is going to need more Thousand Island, said the staff accountant, who already looked a little washed out at the prospect of swallowing.

I will take care of the problem, he said. I will solve this, because it is mine to solve.

But he had no idea where to begin, and that was probably why it had all started in the first place. There was no compass nor starlight on his particular sea, yet whenever he returned to land, his legs wobbled so much he couldn’t walk straight. He didn’t know how to tell her the extent to which he had gone adrift.

After they took the baby away, she began knitting. The needles transformed yarn to sweaters, blankets, socks, scarves until her hands and eyes ached. But when she stopped, loss shook her like an earthquake, the core of her faulting and slipping, her stomach knotted from the upheaval.

Piece by piece, she layered herself with acrylic and wool, trying to warm herself from the outside in, trying to weigh herself down so much she could not help but still.

Her thoughts slipped from her head, then darted about in the air like gnats, just missing each other as they slipped from side to side. She hadn’t asked for this kind of morning; it just came upon her suddenly, as if she’d walked right into it around a sharp turn of a path. She knew exactly what she wanted, but it was not until hours later that she quieted her mind enough to remind herself.

Fair warning, she said. I combust on impact.

He kissed her anyway—a little fire seemed such small risk.

I know how to bank coals, he said as he wrapped his arm around the small of her back. In case of emergency, I know where to find water.

He disappeared sometime in the night, and she woke alone, hands reaching from her curled-up self in a sleep-blind effort to find him in the dark. He returned then, taking one of her hands in his, whispering because voices are too much for that hour. He told her he’d just gotten too hot, he hadn’t wanted to wake her, he was back for the duration, everything was OK. He wrapped himself around her, and it was all she could do to stay awake long enough to let the gratitude settle.