Letting the Air In
She said, “I have a date with a doctor tomorrow night.” Her mouth moved slowly, sure to pronounce each letter in each word. The air was hot, a typical northeast summery evening, all humid and moist. She laid on her back, all four of her limbs spread out as if she were paralyzed in the act of making a snow angel. But there was no snow and she was nothing holy. Silk, and printed with large pale flowers, her dress was pulled up halfway between her knees and her waist, a thick bunching a fabric collecting on the grass beside her; had I not been sitting next to her I would have been able to see the black strip between her legs that was her underwear."Look at you, getting all fancy,” I said.
She didn’t move, she didn’t even look at me when I spoke. Covered in sunlight, her face was turned heavenward like she was looking for something above her, but her eyes were closed.
“Andrew always said I did fancy things.”
“You’re not fancy,” I said.
“Maybe not, but I do fancy things sometimes. Like say big words or date doctors.” When she spoke, her words hung around me for a moment, just out of reach, as if to prove she had some kind of substance; it was almost as if a piece of her heart was coming out on one of those words, begging to be taken.
She lifted her head for a moment and slid one hand beneath it. The other she rose into the air and rotated at its wrist, its elbow, like she was trying to stretch out her tendons but after a moment I realized she was feeling the air move on her skin. She had found a way to cool her body temperature.
“You don’t say big words,” I said and watched her cheeks rise slowly the way they did when she smiled. “When was the last time you said a big word?”
Sarah sat up. Her hair was long and usually mid waist but she pinned it back in the hot weather. Darkened with sweat, escaped strands clung to the sides of her neck, little tree branches, all crooked and black, stretching around her throat.
“Don’t put me on the spot like that James, that’s not very nice. I like big words,” she said, lying back down. “They’re fun. They make me feel right.” Her voice trailed off, like I wasn’t supposed to hear why she liked big words. But she said it, her lips all red and swollen in the heat, and I heard her.
I lay down next to her, hoping the grass would cool my skin but it didn’t. Down there, there was no breeze and I spread my limbs like Sarah, to let the air in.
“He’s not a real doctor,” she said.
“What do you mean? I thought you were either a doctor or not.”
“He’s an eye doctor. He said I have large pupils. Can you believe that?"
“Well you do.”
“Do you think that’s fancy?”
“No.”
“Not as fancy as dating a doctor, right?”
“You dated me, and I’m not fancy.”
“No, you’re not. But you have your fancy shoes, and your fancy hair. I’m surprised you even sat
in the grass with me, James. You like fancy things. Should I say something fancy for you? Would you like that, James?”
I stood up and brushed at my back as if there was grass clinging to my sticky limbs, though there was none. “Come on. Let’s go for a drive. It’s too hot sitting still.”
Her eyes were closed again, her arms and legs spread out, and her dress was raised even higher than before. “But I don’t want to leave,” she said. “This place makes me feel right. It lets the air in.”
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