(Microphone distortion): Hi. Hi, I’m
Michael. I know that’s not the way you’re supposed to start a story—
WITH
INFORMATION. But, hey that’s my name.
Alright. So
there I was.
A.
Child.
I’m talking
really small. I mean, I’m the size of
a skin cell and—
WHY ARE YOU CLAPPING?
And MY
FATHER! Well, he’s just standing there, thundering like a watch.
You see.
I had sold
a priceless family heirloom on the black market.
IT’S TRUE! A painting that cost like
a million and two dollars.
But I only
got 500 for it.
I was 8.
Okay.
I was 16!
And I needed some money to pay for my BAD DECISIONS…
COULD
SOMEONE ELSE SAY SOMETHING BESIDES ME?
I’m not
gonna get into my bad decisions.
But….
basically
they all involved ERICA.
More on HER later.
Anyway I’m
like this infinitesimal little shard of butter and my DAD is making his lawyer
face, like:
Like, his face is saying I’d rather be working than dealing with this stolen
ART business!
You know
the face.
I wish I had a scarf to twirl around
up here.
Know what I mean?
(Whispering) Why are you laughing?
Okay. Did
you ever—were you ever for sure
certain that:
YOUR HEART
WAS SWEATING!?
But Erica
said we could take all the BLACK MARKET MONEY
and buy pot.
P. O. T.
I said no no no no no
way.
My dad
would kill me.
And then flashback-forward here he
is KILLING ME!
I mean not
yet.
Or literally.
A lot of
people don’t know what that word MEANS.
Right now
he’s just looking.
Um. I can hear someone’s
glass clinking. Against what I don’t know.
Isn’t that
funny?
THE THINGS YOU NOTICE.
And my dad
is way bigger than me and rich but he’s upset about this painting.
I say Dad.
I’ll find
it.
And he
starts saying HOW MANY MOTHERS AM I GOING TO GO THROUGH BEFORE SOMEONE WILL
RAISE MY SON?
He
was always at work.
Erica picks
me up that night. And she says we can’t get the painting back.
Let’s Run
Away!
We went to the movies.
Remember
the one with Martin Short where he’s an amnesiac sculptor who yells and screams
whenever he sees dust?
Yeah right.
So
four hours later.
I say MOM.
I’m
on the phone. That’s why I’m holding my sneaker to my ear.
LOL.
I say.
Could you buy me a painting?
And she says don’t
whisper I have a migraine. Send me some electronic mail.
Thank god
for mom right?
Sure. I send it away. And ERICA
who’s not
my girlfriend exactly but like CLOSE
is
scratching her initials on the usher.
As though
he won’t even notice.
We’re still at the movie
theater somehow.
SO LATER: I
mean YEARS. I didn’t know what to major in in college and my RA says
what do you
like?
That is such a tough question.
So I told
him the story I’m telling you and
he says
ART!
So I do.
Gives my
father something else not to talk about.
Thank you.
(Sticks microphone in his mouth to drown out
applause).
Gregory Lawless is the author of FAR AWAY (Red Mountain Press, 2015) and DREAMBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA (Dream Horse Press, forthcoming).
