JPF Home Page Forums Creative Arts Forums Creative Writing Forum "One Night In Paradise"

8. EVICTION NOTICE; An Unfamiliar Feeling. Eevannh.
Annh = Bye. Omah = Mother.

What... what is... this feeling? I'm not used to feeling... like this. I like how I feel!

We've been gathering all day. We filled the bins. New island; just as productive as any other. The lightning storm had started again and lasted about three days. We were idle. We repaired our bins, went to the mall, didn't buy anything, ate pastries with dinner. Drank wine. One day I got a haircut. Eenunh directed the barber, a woman. I looked in my little hand mirror when we got home and saw it was a good haircut. At home, Eenunh trimmed my beard. At home...

We went back to work today. It was... a pleasure to do the work again! I didn't do anything with the lizard but drag it back to the water-truck. They're efficient in the kills, fast in the butchering. It was another small one. I begin to wonder if my first kill was an unusual monster. I never see any on the dock that big.

At home I play and sing for them. It's an escape for me. I don't think about anything but the song, the fantasy of the Singer-Character's Lyrical tale. When a song ends I sometimes feel distress at my situation. Reality takes more thought than fantasy. It is what it is. I accept it without much regret, when I think about it. When it leaps up, unexpected, when the song ends, I can't philosophize fast enough to not feel some... worry. What am I going to do? Live here until maybe another miner might come? Will Briggs come back? Reality has too many details.

'Home'. I said, 'At home'. This is home now. I play another song. I have enough 'mind' left over, looking at her, that I think I wouldn't mind settling here forever.

The girls flank me in the lily pad chairs, Tinunh on my left in my chair with me, under the neck of my guitar Sometimes she picks it up. I show her bass notes for "Hit The Road Jack". She's got it, but the strings hurt her fingers.

Eenunh in another chair, pushes it against mine, and I lay the guitar on the table and read to them. They converse. When they start I stop reading. When they stop talking I start reading again. Eenunh pronounces words... not in the nasal twang buzz, but with a very human voice, a lovely feminine voice, a... breathy voice. I like it. She notes the 'k' in 'kill', the 'k' in 'mockingbird', the 'k' in 'broken', flips back to where we left off, gestures with fingers to read on.

Up in the bedroom one day... the three little girls Tinunh talked with at the mall are at the door.

I... know they're out there, and who. They don't knock. I just know. Then... they knock.

I open the door, pushing out on the left, pulling in by the handle on the right. There they stand. They all speak at once, the same syllables. One speaks again and I think I hear Tinunh's name in there. Tinunh calls from the ramp behind me. I step aside and two run past me, squeally, buzzy little girl voices. The third extends her hand, brushes fingertips, grins, more reserved. I think she tells me her name. Sounds like 'Yvonne'. They go down the ramp.Tinunh comes back and makes an air guitar gesture.

I take my guitar case down, lay it on the 'coffee' table, and sit in a lily pad chair. The girls pair up, two in one chair, one each in two others. Eenunh comes, and the girl who shook my hand, stands and gestures for her to sit in the one to my left. They do the fingertip brush, their form of handshake, I perceive. I hear the girl's name now as 'Eevannh'. She joins the other girl in a chair.

Eenunh doesn't lay back, curl up to sleep, but leans forward, her face cradled in her hands. I wish I had a picture! Her hands are beautiful; her face... She talks to the girls between songs, then puts her face back in her hands, takes her right hand down, wriggles it at me and my guitar, calling for another song, puts it back. Golden irises flicker all around. Eenunh looks as contented, as... happy... as I feel. Her irises... don't seem to flicker... as much any more. I think she... knows what she's looking at so... changes in focus are no longer necessary. I'm... speculating of course as to the purpose of the flickering. I notice it in Tinunh too, the... less flickery observation, but not the other children. They flicker constantly.

I'm playing a lot today. I feel no compulsion to stop, no desire to do anything else. The lightning is off in the distance, the thunder muted.

Finally Eenunh and the girls all stand up at once. I stand, tuck my pick into the strings. The children begin filing past me toward the ramp, each of them speaking to me as they pass, speaking to Eenunh who smiles benignly, speaks a syllable, the same syllable, "Annh" to each one. Eevannh offers her hand. I brush fingertips, feeling that taking hold of someone's hand in an Earthman-style grip is somehow coarse, even aggressive. She says "Annh.' Tinunh reaches and touches my left cheek with the back of the fingers of her left hand as she goes by, beaming grin, perfect white teeth. I raise my eyebrows, grin, look into golden eyes. I think I did well.

The storms come every few days. We work every day, the day after the lightning stops, catching wrigglies, searching, not always finding a lizard. I like those days better. But I wonder about the economics. On the dock I see not many people are catching lizards. The ones they catch are small. Not just compared to my dragon, but... in general.

Eenunh makes it routine for Tinunh to steer back. Eenunh falls asleep on my bicep, smelling of honey, feeling warm. I lean my head back, close my eyes, feel the red setting Sunstar on my cheek, if we've gone north. Not so much if we'd gone south in search of an island. Then Tinunh gets the Sunstarset. I see them in their undergarments and notice they have... what on Earth we call a 'Farmer's Tan', the tan lines between darker skin and unexposed skin obvious on their arms and faces.

There are weeks of it, weeks of work. We just do it. It is what we do. This is the work Eenunh does, how she takes care of her family. Tinunh is as skilled and productive as Eenunh, I think. We fill our bins every time, even going back after the rain starts some days to fill the ones they'd put the lizard organs in, if we don't find a lizard on any given day. We go long ways down beaches searching too. One day, they kill a small one. I think to suggest by gestures that we go a little farther and catch another one after we'd caught the first. Eenunh indicates no, holds up her index finger. I think it's a regulation, one a day. That's why the two person team of cops walk along the dock when the water-trucks pull in; checking. Game wardens, as well as 'commanh', cops.

Today, a lightning day, I'm lying in my bed-hollow, sleeping, dreaming. We hadn't gone out shopping, walking. Everyone was doing their own thing. Sleeping was mine. Tinunh has touched my shoulder. I open my eyes. Someone's knocking at the door. I don't know... who. Eenunh is going toward it. I sit up, blink my eyes. There's talking. Tinunh stands halfway between me and the door, her back to me. Her arms are crossed over her chest. I realize Eenunh's face is dark, grim. She crosses her arms over her chest. Irises flicker at me.

She opens the door and two... 'cops' are there. I can see the tall female, hear the male's voice, see his hands, a yellow-orange piece of paper. I stand and step up behind Tinunh. She turns her head up to me, irises, tears running down her cheeks. She puts her forehead against my belly, hugs my waist. I put my arms down over her shoulders, hands on her shoulder blades. What's up little darlin'? It ain't a Lizard Head Offense; I know that!

Eenunh reaches out. He extends the paper to her. She looks it over. No one speaks. The man speaks again. Eenunh speaks, calmly, quietly. Her left hand is on the door and I see it move back and forth an inch, hear it grind on the spindle. She holds the paper in her right hand, gestures with that hand, arm, speaks to each of them, judging by the accompanying movement of her head. The man speaks. The woman speaks. Eenunh speaks, closes the door with them standing there.

She turns, glances at me and away, and goes to the ramp, down to the living room. Tinunh crosses to the ramp, calling out to Eenunh. Tinunh turns and gestures for me to come. I do.

In the living room, Eenunh is in the lily pad chair where she watched me play and sing, with such a beautiful face. Now her face alternately grimaces and looks stern, more grimace than stern, a single tear running down her face! What in the world? I'm afraid! I haven't been afraid for a while. I take the fear off my face. I sit opposite Eenunh and wait to understand. She hands me the paper, talks. I can't make sense of the marks on the paper. There are letters I suppose; maybe numbers. At the top are darker, larger letters. There's the symbol the cops wear on their uniforms, black print instead of the yellow swirl, but the same symbol. Whatever it is it is a police document, a police... order. Trouble!

Lightning days follow. We go to the mall. Their mood is gloomy. I never wanted to kill a lizard more in my life! Eenunh talks to lots of other people, mostly women, some men. They all look at me when she does. I don't like the sound of her voice. She's stressed, distressed. Some women hug her. I see she comes away with tears in her eyes sometimes. Just golden eyes watering. She picks up leaves from the holders on the tables for two by the slatted windows, dabs at her eyes, avoids looking at me. I want to see her face. I want to see golden irises flickering. I want to see her smile. She gives it to me, with her mouth, meets my gaze, no smile in her eyes, but is just as quick to look away.

I'm lying in my bed hollow. There's someone at the door. I know it. They haven't knocked yet. But I know they're there. Doubting my surety I open the door. It's one of Tinunh's friends, the more reserved one, Yvonne... or... Eevannh. She bursts into tears! Tinunh comes running, thank goodness! They converse, there in the doorway. They look at me, look at each other, look at me. Tinunh is consoling, hugging. I smile at the little girl.They go out in the corridor, close the door behind them. I go back and sit on the edge of the bed hollow. Kids; they get bounced around by life. It makes them stronger, but that's no consolation for adults who have to watch them go through things. I hope it will be okay.

I hear their voices outside. Tinunh's voice rises in volume, shrillness! Alarm? Excitement? Something. I'm up, at the door when Tinunh opens it! She touches my belly, runs past me down the ramp, yelling "Omah!" which I think means 'Mother'. The little girl stands there with me, cries, stamps her foot! Grins. I don't know what's going on. Tinunh comes back, takes her by the hand, pulls her in, closes the door. The little girl is looking at me, steps in my direction, her eyes nearly closed as she cries, tries to speak, her voice distorted from even the usual limits of my comprehension. She spreads her arms, pointing downward, palms toward me. I don't know what's going on. She steps and hugs me. I hug her to me with my left hand on her back. She cries harder. Tinunh comes beside us and hugs us each with one arm. Eenunh and the girls are quiet at dinner. I don't know what the hell's going on. Little sad girl, Eevannh, stays sad, doesn't eat very much.

Time passes. Days of storm. The lightning stops. We go gather wrigglies, catch our lizard. I've never seen one again as big as that first one. Nobody's got one hanging on the dock either. Nobody. My first lizard was a monster. I want my trophy head. I wonder if it's out there on that island, just a skull by now, picked clean by wrigglies or white birds and whatever snarls in the dark of night.

I'm lying in the bed hollow, napping. There's someone at the door. It's Tinunh's three friends. They knock. Tinunh answers. Two are enthusiastic in greeting. The third is the one who came before, Eevannh. She's friendly, but reserved, brushes fingertips, stamps her foot, crosses her arms. She's grinning, flips her hair back, irises flickering at me. Tinunh comes back with the other two. They hug. She looks my direction, golden irises flickering, raises her right hand in greeting. They go down in single, orderly file into the living room. Soon they come back with Tinunh and all go out the door. I go down and find Eenunh sitting, leaning forward, head in hands. I find her sitting that way a lot these last few days, since the cops came. We talk. She says things anyway, and I say things back. I make faces, mostly trying to express, 'Whaddaya gonna do?'. She doesn't grin. She smiles, but the smile returns to distress.

Suddenly we hear the girls come running back in! Tinunh's voice and one other are jabbering! Eevannh runs to Eenunh! Eenunh stands up, Eevannh pulling at her left hand. Tinunh pulls her by her right hand with both hands toward the ramp. Eenunh looks back at me, tosses her head to follow. They go up the ramp, across the bed-hollow room. The door is standing open. I'm a little afraid! Too much sudden excitement! I wonder if there's a giant lizard in the hall! I want my corn knife! Outside the door, they go right, out of my sight! I get there, step out, pull the door to. They've gone up the hall about twenty feet to the first spindle-door on the left, across the hall. It's open. They go in. I go up the corridor and peek in.

I see a single bed-hollow on the far wall. Shelved walls. There's a wooden coffee table like Eenunh's, only smaller, square. No lily pad chairs. No room for more than one anyway. Maybe two. Off to the right is a table and two chairs, like the ones at the mall. There's a small kitchen, cooler, warmer, sink, all in line along a counter on the right side wall. In the far right corner is a bathroom, no door; I see the sink, the opening to the toilet, the little alcove for the leaves. I assume there's a shower. There is. It's... an efficiency apartment. One room and a bath.

Tinunh's buzzing, vocalizing, all her syllables slurring into one another in my ear. Eenunh speaks more slowly, arms crossed, but I like the tone of her voice. I like the studied look on her face. Tinunh hops to me, big grin, takes my hand, pulls me around the room, points out the kitchen, the bathroom, irises a'flicker, talking, talking, talking. She pushes me into the shower stall, one entrance, not the walk-around pillar style at their house. It's a one-room efficiency apartment.

We come out of the bathroom and Eenunh is talking to a woman. The children are attentive, quiet. Eevannh stamps her foot! It's not a hard, violent stamp. I think it's a nervous thing she does. The older woman is wearing a knit dress. Her hair is styled. I don't like it. I like her earrings though. Eenunh turns to me, stands close, looks up into my face. She's talking soothingly. I like her face, softer, only a little less distressed. She nods her head. She turns her head to the woman, puts her fingers in my front left pocket, tries to come out with my credit card thingy. I reach in and pull it out. She shows it to me, points to the woman. She's explaining it to the woman... or... to me. I don't know. The woman looks at it, makes a note on one of the yellow-orange pads, hands it past Eenunh to me, marks another one, puts the pad in her purse, grins, reaches and brushes fingertips with Eenunh, then with me, and walks out.

The kids erupt in jubilation! They join hands and do a little circle dance! I wonder what's going on, but don't really care beyond seeing all the little faces smiling!

Eenunh wipes a tear off her cheek. They gather around her, hugging, all except the one little girl, the one who always seems to have tears rolling down her cheeks these days, Eevannh. Tinunh reaches out, pulls her into the hug. They rock their upper bodies and rotate around, turning Eenunh in the middle. Eenunh grins at me, throws her head back, forward, talks to them, strokes the crying little girl's hair.

The kids run out into the corridor. Eenunh comes to me, returns my credit card to my pocket. Without looking at me she lays her head on my chest, talking low, her arms encircling me. I hug her back, put my left cheek on her temple. She hugs me tighter. She sobs! Oh no! What now? She only does it a couple times, then steps back, wipes her tears away, grins, looks up at me, her face very close, very... beautiful, golden irises fixed.

I hear the girls coming back... or... I think... I think I would have kissed her. Eenunh steps away from me, crosses her arms. They come in, Tinunh carrying my guitar case, the others with the hornet's nest paper box, full of my stuff.

I... I think I just got evicted! I think I just... rented... a place of my own!

I feel... an unfamiliar feeling. It's... okay. It's... going to be okay.

What... is this feeling?