Halle Butler - Jillian

He felt a little good about last night, but also a little depressed. He moved to his office with his coffee and looked at the internet for a while. He lit a cigarette and opened the project file for Kelly’s store.

He felt a little depressed because she’d said “you’re the only person I really like.” He repeated this to himself, and with each repeat he got more and more pissed off. Yeah, pissed off. But then sad for being pissed off. Here is what he thought: if someone truly dislikes “everyone” but one person, that means the person they do like they don’t even notice. That person, Randy in this case, is just a blank with no subjective feelings, no interior monologue, no hidden opinion or thought. And that sucked, it was stupid. He was, essentially, her cat.

Her cat who she had sex with and cooked dinner for and watched movies with.

She would have to be nicer.

As soon as he got mad and felt confident about being mad, he imagined what it would be like to say to her that she needed to be nicer. In that conversation there would have to be an “or else.” Or else I will have to break up with you. It was depressing to imagine breaking up with Megan, but she was such a fucking drag. He couldn’t believe this sloppy, ornery person was his girlfriend.

He stamped out his cigarette and stared at the project file. He had that feeling in his stomach he got when he knew he had to break up with someone. That hollow vacuum feeling. There were always two or three good opportunities to break up with someone in the course of a relationship, and he almost never acted on the first impulse, but once it was there it was never fully gone. He didn’t like the way it made him feel. The saying “second chance” came to his mind and he didn’t like how condescending it sounded. But it was, ugh, a second chance, in a way, because he understood that people had their phases. But to stay with someone who insulted his existence—acted like he didn’t have a full selfhood—was not possible. Impossible.

So, she would have to snap out of it.

He thought about getting her a job. She could do pretty much anything, he thought. What he did wasn’t that hard, she could do that.

He imagined asking a friend to do her a favor. Then he imagined the friend remembering Megan giving them the stink-eye or something, then he imagined Megan becoming humiliated and infuriated. He dismissed the idea.

She would get out of this phase on her own, he knew it, but he didn’t know what role he’d play in all of it. He might not be what was best for her. If she really did hate all of his friends, he couldn’t imagine her ever being happy with him.

He got that vacuum feeling again, lit another cigarette, and told himself that it was ok to sit on it for a few weeks, then think it over again. Kelly’s website was his priority right now.

Adam noticed his mom laughing a lot and thought it was cool. She said she was going to get some cake after work for him to eat for being such a good boy. Elena came over and picked him up. She held his hand as they walked down the stairs and around the block to her car. She held his hand tightly and he kept his hand slack. It was sticky from syrup. He tried to do a dance walk on the sidewalk, but Elena said, “Come on,” so he stopped. He added a few spasmodic kicks before they got to the car, but no more full dance walk. Elena liked to listen to the same radio station as his mother did, and she liked to hum along to the songs, too. But her car was totally empty except for a map and a pot of medicated lip balm. Elena pulled into a parking spot, got out of the car, walked around to Adam’s door and then led him into the day care center.

“Hey, Barb,” said Elena. She let go of his hand and he ran off. Elena raised her eyebrows.

“Still no car?” asked Barb.

Elena smiled a sour smile and shook her head. “No, not yet.”

Both women shrugged. Adam took up his occupation of the pastel plastic house in the corner. No one was in there yet. He got there earlier than a lot of the children. He crouched in the middle of the house and made a wild face. He held his hands out in front of his face and said, “The jaws of life,” and then he hissed. He bounced up and down on his legs saying, “I am the jaws and the life.” He gasped, looked quickly to the side, then prostrated himself on the tight blue carpeting. His hands, the jaws of life, went out in front of him and reached for the plastic walls of the house. He imagined himself as a snake and slinked up to the window and observed all that he could see.

“I don’t know, but eventually I’m going to have to ask her to broaden her carpool, you know what I mean? My kids are in high school, I already went through the day care thing. I’m not trying to do it again with somebody else’s baby,” said Elena.

“I hear you,” said Barb.

“She got brought home by the cops. I’m not trying to raise the child of someone who’s in trouble with the law in that way,” said Elena.

“Oh, I know. She called in here the other week and practically chewed my head off.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“The tuition is too high. And I said, listen, lady, maybe that’s something you should’ve thought about before you took a job that didn’t pay you enough for all that you need,” said Barb.

“Oh, my word. I know I’m not trying to be a free car service.”

“You know it takes about a thousand dollars to get your car out of the impound.”

“It does not!”

“It does too. So, it looks like you got yourself into some charity work.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Even a Christian woman has her limits.”

Barb laughed and put her hand on Elena’s arm. Adam observed this from his house. The fluorescent lights made the inside of the yellow plastic house glow. More children arrived. Elena nodded while she was talking and kept talking while she walked to the door. Barb laughed and waved, then crossed her arms.

Later, when most of the children had arrived, Adam became involved in a game of house. Julie and Tessa were the Mom and the Dad and Emma was the Baby. Adam was the dog. He sat by the box of toys and watched them make dinner. He chewed on his paws and tried to chew on his haunches but couldn’t reach. Mommy and Daddy served Baby some dinner and they all ate the invisible food with their hands. Adam crawled over to them and said, “I love you,” and then pawed at the air. The girls giggled and said, “Bad doggie, go eat out of your bowl.”

“But I love you!” he said.

“Doggie!” said the Dad and the girls giggled.

Adam looked at Emma the Baby. “I’m your sister and I love you!” he pleaded. “Rrruff, I’m your sister, I’m your sister!”

“What are you doing, Adam? Bad doggie, go eat your food,” said Tessa.

Adam pawed at the table and at Emma and said, again, but now in a dog voice, “Ri’m rour ristrer rand roi ruff roo!” He began to pant frantically and flail on the floor.

“Doggie, no!” said the girls.

“I’m a good doggie,” he cried. “Woof!”

“Miss Barbara!” said Julie. Adam’s eyes widened.

“Woof,” he said. He returned to his dog bowl and growled.

Miss Barbara approached the scene. “Yes, Julie?”

“Miss Barbara, Adam is supposed to be the dog and eat his food from the bowl, but he keeps saying he’s Emma’s sister, but he’s still acting like a dog and he’s a boy anyway so even if he could be her sister he should be her brother,” said Julie.

“Ruh-roh,” whispered Adam.

“Adam,” said Miss Barbara. “Adam, come.”

Adam crawled to her and panted. He sat up on his haunches and put his paws out in front of his chest and cocked his head to the side. “Roi ruff roo,” he said.