Ken Baumann - Say, Cut, Map

“Only you can help us prevent it.”

And there it was. He knew it was all they needed to disengage, pack, leave. She kept assigning medicine. As if they were carrying something prone to die. Humongous streaks of fire. Tear stains. He woke up to that sound every morning. It was only then.

“Stop.”

He had figured out a way to kill it all, or to start its fade. They were in support. During the term, you want to stay active. So she told him. They went out. He laughed, she laughed. A father and a mother. That’s the only thing I don’t remember.

“The big A.”

Baseball for his friends. She kept insisting on sugar. What do you expect me to do? Even in the low light he could see the strange acne. So tight it cut him. I could easily take this. Fourteen in fees.

“That’s what they call it.”

The aftereffects. Wasn’t it an old story already? Every night was long. Keep quiet. I want you to know that I’m here, and calm. No, I get it. It makes you really love electricity. Five steps into the airport. The sweat dried. He took his hand and raised it. So.

“What I want, what I want you to do is breathe.”

He kept telling me that. There are so many days.

You are too soft. They remained in bed. Furious. He could breathe. They lifted him by his hair, and he was out of the water. It’s big coverage. It could do a lot.

“I can’t even imagine.”

His stomach turned and he could trace a map of scars. That’s why you’re a kid and I’m an adult. She took him away for the day. At the zoo, they stayed too long in front of the glass for the lions. I’ve seen nothing. Desperate cries. A mess of fire. Sledges. It can rain here for forty days straight, like the bible.

“I want to see pictures.”

They’re dining alone. Rumors circulated. He was young and had no excuse. The woman led him to her family. They had crawled into the corner and were pushing against each other, as if they wanted up the wall. He touched foreheads for hours. The water was thick, so it wasn’t water. He tasted the syrup again. After he put her to bed.

“Mom?”

It hurt but he could see through it. It wasn’t a wall. Bricked mud. He spoke too quickly. They misunderstood him. Where is all the water coming from? They realized.

“Stick around.”

The door shut. The office felt empty without its usual plants. He was offered up, as a token. There was a science to it. Public knowledge, now. She met him for lunch. It was perfect. It was numb.

Hostage was the wrong word. He couldn’t blink without seeing her. So they left without her. He couldn’t look at the doctor, but could feel her well up beside him. It wasn’t unusual at this stage.

“Take it easy.”

The worst was over. They wrapped him in blankets and put flavored steam under his nose. He could taste seawater. He prayed for a flat. There was nothing else to ask for.

“It’s hard.”

I want you to come home. Echoes. The local bats did this. They had entered nature. He felt sure of himself. They smiled, and it was like a chorus.

“What don’t you know about me?”

The day after, she said she couldn’t feel anything. They had to heat up milk. Transfers weren’t allowed. It was the modern state of medicine. I can keep up. Every night, he recorded the sky. It flaked off. They knew it was working and they laughed.

“Keep trying.”

It hadn’t been long. They looked up at the storm. He touched his arm. She moaned. Feeling lost. His hunger must’ve been attached to something at home. All of it was far off now. He kept scraping at the bandage. Nothing would help. Applying after the shower. Feeling inside her.

“Go.”

Whispers. He watched her. Felt like he couldn’t surface yet, like she was waiting for him to show her something she’d never seen before. It wasn’t the end. I’m exhausted. They tore up the notebooks and maps. They feared those trucks. He felt prehistoric. After he left, he heard them start to shout. It all moved off. Great passages. He moved his finger over the page. They just picked a place. Matrimony.

“I’ll do it.”

He sensed the media. Swarms of locusts. He couldn’t see through the glare, but the plane landed anyway. It hurt more and more the less he took. He said as much. They asked, he withdrew. They laughed. She looked concerned. He’d never know.

“I forgot what I had to say.”

He deleted all the messages. They refund, though. There was a common myth in all her looks. He felt like they were prospecting. He was told to stay. They got on the plane.

“Would you like me to call ahead?”

That couldn’t be outdone. It wasn’t the money. He hung up. He missed the air. They were all damning themselves. He ran out into the street. He looked. Saved. It still dialed. He unzipped the bag and emptied it on the floor. They looked superstitious. He could handle losing them. He was running back, past the farthest goal.

“I feel like it’s not my decision.”

A distinct absence in a jewelry store.

They would stay home and cook more. He was bound. It was tough at first. You are an employee. I don’t like to talk about that.

“Donate now.”

I won’t leave. He stood up. The helicopter sounded vague. They were numbered. He read the placard, read it out loud. Getting up there in the years. Having the loudest sex possible. They weren’t neighbors. He wasn’t listening. The shower ran. He felt his chest burn. They looked at each other as it cooked.

“I’ll shut you up.”

It’s closed. He explained that. They gasped. He knew there were millions of people that watched. That’s all he could remember. His boss. Their new name.

“It’s a big continent.”

She thought he was a journalist. There wasn’t enough water in the world. He wrote down the number. It exploded. Little ashes puffed out. He could smoke here. It was a sign of luxury. He knew he’d be back. The bandage had to be peeled off. Don’t bite down. It tasted sweet, he promised her it did.

“Not anymore.”

He felt tired. There was no way to tell. The screen lit up. They noticed. He thought they hit him more than once. And she laughed. He wanted to see that every day. It’s expired.

“There’s only one direction.”

He claimed that for himself.

It was about power. He signed. He fell asleep to the beeps. They released him. It felt hot, warm in the sun. Press it. We require assistance. He looked at her and saw it. Bad looks. It’s all shut down. We’re out. It burned out quickly. They cried and eventually backed off. He could wear the clothes. Being landlocked. She had never seen a wave before.

“Can you walk?”

Four acts. He wished there was a camera crew. The biggest one stepped forward and grabbed his shirt. She pulled him on top of her. He woke up falling again. She was blonde. It’s beautiful here.

“Thank you so much for sharing your story.”

He begged her. He vomited. He cleaned it up. They shit all over the dirt. I have authority. The tough guy act. His skin was white, sure. No porn in months. Huge bites. The sky went red while he was inside.

“Can I show you?”

He just wanted to help. Everything else could leave. She bit his finger, the flowers. Or their child. Nevermind. He was filming himself. That’s the only part that’s missing. He tried to reflect that in his story. They boiled it down to paste. Very cute.

“It’s good to try.”

Pat downs. Knocking. Domestic agents. Blood trails weren’t common because of the dirt. I don’t want to baptize him. Everyone black. Maybe that’s why he was grumpy all the time. Spoil him. It’s medication. Good thing you’re over there. He’d walk barefoot. It was the language barrier. She fucked him. He felt fine.

“Are you sure?”