fragments of a name.

saw yosemite on saturday. a dead deer a few miles past the gate, smashed windshield, two cars pulled off the road. stayed in sonora, teri's brother's house, jim. he's retired. told me about the extensions to the house he'd done, how cows sometimes sneak into his yard, how the pool was already there - he didn't build it. a shot went off somewhere in the distance. "i don't know what that was," he said. we laughed it off. later, marisa discovered two lizards dead in the pool, one bigger than the other. the big one, lying at the bottom, face up. i scooped them up with the pool spoon (anyone know what that's called), threw them over the fence. marisa shrieked with disgust. we talked about the sixties, civic responsibility, hope, death, lights at the end of the tunnel. liane had a friend who prepared for a party, curlers in her hair, stuck her hand in a fishtank, electrocuted. out-of-body experience, looked down at her body, at the paramedics, saw a white bed with flowers growing around it. her version of heaven. another time, teri said, "you guys are young. you have so much to look foward to. hopefully all good, but then, that wouldn't be realistic." the bottoms of waterfalls, bridal veil, yosemite falls, gusts of mist fly upon us, take our breath away. like a mediocre and generic berlin 80's hit. meagan worried about ticks. they can cause lime disease.

yosemite was nothing like i remembered it. it had been sixteen years. "my story didn't come close to describing this place," i whined. "you're still young. think of all the experiences you'll have that'll shape the stories you write." i am young. i have time. hopefully all good stories, but then, that wouldn't be realistic.

No comments: