Chaos and Control(2)

“I came to get my job back, but it looks like you’ve filled the position.”

“I couldn’t wait forever.”

I nod and drop my eyes to focus on a crack in the green linoleum floor. Guilt grabs hold of me, and suddenly, I am ashamed for abandoning my sister. Bennie was the one bright spot, and I left her here to fight off small-town assimilation on her own. Seeing her unnaturally red hair and patchwork peasant skirt, I guess she did okay.

“Bring it in, kid.”

I throw myself at her and wrap my arms around warm, soft, unconditional love and all that is Bennie. Essence oils and hemp shampoo dull my senses as I bury my face in her wild hair. One hand still holds my shoulder while the other cradles the back of my head. I feel that thickness in the back of my throat, the one that means to choke me unless I cry it out. Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow it back down and refuse to set it free. I can’t stop the one tear that escapes and soaks into her vintage cardigan.

It’s then that I remember Preston, a stranger, witnessing this reunion. I turn my face toward him, but all I find is an empty aisle and the Van Morrison album back in its place.

“Three years,” Bennie says. She pulls a Diet Coke from her private stash and opens it before sliding it across the counter to me.

“Three years,” I confirm. “Doesn’t look like much has changed in this town.”

She shrugs and stares out the storefront window. “Nothing much ever does. How long will you be staying?”

“I don’t know yet. I felt like I needed to be here, but there’s a big world waiting for me to explore. So who knows?”

Bennie frowns, but I can’t give her any more answers than that. I don’t know how long I’ll stay in Crowley, but I do know I won’t be staying. From my spot behind the counter, I watch Preston start with the A’s on the first aisle. He flips through albums, one by one. Every once in a while, he pulls one and places it somewhere else.

“What’s his story?” I ask, sipping my soda.

“Wren, you’ve been gone for three years. Our only communication has been random postcards sent along the way with no way to reply or check on you. And now you want to talk about my employee? Why did you come back?”

I turn to face her, shocked by the strange bite in her voice. “Am I not welcome here?”

“You’re always welcome here. You know that.” Bennie sighs and places her hand over mine. “I’m really happy to see you. I’m just reeling. I mean…” She stops and waves her hand across my body. “Look at you. All grown up. Purple pixie cut. That stud in your nose. And who knows what else.”

“You taught me to be myself. Does any of the rest of this matter?” I ask, combing my fingers through my short hair.

“Not at all. I just want you to be happy. Were you happy out there?”

My gaze flicks to Preston again, who seems to be stuck in the C’s. I watch him flip through the albums and notice his lips moving.

“Sometimes.” There is a beat of silence between us. It’s charged with unasked questions and unwanted answers. “What the hell is he doing?”

Bennie gives me a grin. “He’s very thorough.”

“At what?”

“Everything.”





A late afternoon of dust mites and vinyl and then She walks in

Not just a she as in the female form, but a she as in There is nothing else

This girl stands in vibrant colors and sharp lines against A blurred background

The afternoon sun pushes through glass just to Seek her out

Short hair frames that face like lilac feathers A pretty bird One look and I have forgotten myself, my habitual habits Dropped like baggage at my feet She is all appraising eyes and anarchist clothes Holding that vinyl

The delicate way she handles it, fingertips and edges, I know She knows records

Her words say I am pretty, the fire in her gaze Says something else

My body responds, every muscle pulled tight in its Effort to stay put

Like a ghostly hallucination that I often dream of She leaves me on aisle two

I am left holding Tupelo Honey and reeling In her wake

- Preston





Chapter Two


Planet Waves


“Aww. You painted. I loved that color,” I say, stepping through the door into Bennie’s kitchen. The mint-green wall color is gone. In its place is a pale yellow color that seems to make the walls glow like sunshine. Other than the color change, everything is exactly as I remember. Her vintage appliances are still pristine and tucked into their respective corners. The wood table with my name carved underneath sits in the front window nook. Daisy placemats and a large candle decorate the top.

“Yeah. I just needed a change one day.”

“Well, I think you should have kept it.” I let my bag fall off my shoulder. It hits the floor with a thud and rolls over.

“Well, you lost your vote when you left Crowley.”

I flinch at her jab and lean against the fridge. “Ouch.”

“Since Preston is in your old apartment, you can take my extra room,” Bennie says. She fills a teakettle with water from the faucet and places it on the stove but doesn’t turn on the burner. “The sheets are clean.”

“Thanks, Bennie. I won’t be in your way. Promise.”