Susan Steinberg - Spectacle - Stories

Just my father’s empty house.

It was then I bought a ticket.

I got my body onto a plane.

I got my mind into my body.

I was trying to prove something, I suppose.

But earlier, in the airport, I thought to turn back.

I was afraid and thought to go back.

So when a guy said, Do you need help, I said, Yes.

He was missing a tooth, and I never liked to see this.

It reminded me of something from when I was a kid, a guy or something I shouldn’t have seen, and then, as a kid, it made me sad.

Though it should have been funny when I was a kid, some guy on North just lying there all fucked up.

It should have been funny, some broken guy on a flattened box, a guy my father and I saw on our way to the house.

My father thought it was funny.

Some guy more broken than we could ever be.

More messed up than we could ever be.

My father and I stepped over this guy.

My father laughed.

We walked into the house.

And when the guy in the airport said, How can I help, I said, I don’t know.

He said, I can carry your bag, and I said, I can carry my bag.

He said, What do you need, and I said, I need a lot of things.

I need help, I said.

I’m in need, I said.

I reached for his arm.

He said, I can carry your bag.

There are too many guys in this story.

For a story about a girl, that is.

For a story about being a girl, that is.

This guy was missing a tooth, and nobody cares.

The guy on North, nobody cares.

My father, please.

And the guy from the bar.

He was not a mystic.

There are no mystics.

There are people who know shit and people who don’t.

And the people who know shit only know shit because they’re watching.

And the people who don’t only don’t because they’re not.

The night before she left we’d gone to the bar.

And the girl and I were dancing.

And the mystic was watching us dance.

And a guy I liked was watching us dance.

I can remember feeling a certain way.

I felt like a star.

Like an actual star.

Like just before the supernova.

And I wanted time to stop right there.

It was obscene, I know, to want time to stop.

Obscene to love this hard a specific point in time.

But it was more obscene that one couldn’t stop it.

That no one really was in charge.

The flight attendant couldn’t save me.

She couldn’t even save herself.

Not in the event of a spectacle.

We would all just be the spectacle.

So the right thing to ask was, How could one possibly be all right.

I had no answer.

I have no answer now.

When I asked if I could study abroad, my father laughed and said, No way.

He said, Get lost.

And how terrible not getting what I wanted.

Terrible the cigarette stuck to my father’s lip.

The windows like a mean face behind him.

He was still fucked up from the night before.

And I stood there for a while thinking he might change his mind.

But eventually he put out his cigarette.

He fell asleep on the couch.

I left and walked to class.

And the guys on North said, Sister.

They said, Come back here.

They said, Come back.

They said, Come back.

And so what if I had.

Class that day was so boring.

I didn’t understand philosophy.

There was no point in understanding.

I just sat there thinking what I often thought.

The bridge collapsing.

The car sinking.

Water rushing in through cracks.

I was going nowhere.

The girl was on her own.

I would tell her after class.

You’re on your own, I would say.

And the look on her face.

There are better things to think about.

Like dancing the night before she left.

We were all fucked up, and I felt like a star.

And the guy I liked would spin me around.

And we would leave the bar and go for a ride.

I would tell him, Drive fast, and he would.

Then one thing, another.

My head in his lap.

His hand on my head.

I was too nice a girl.

I was not a nice girl.

I was my father’s daughter.

And what does that even mean.

For a long time after, I watched the sky.

It was the sun and it was the moon.

It was birds flying in the shape of a V.

It was clouds in the shapes of everything else.

And nothing happened, except once.

That day I was in class.

I was sitting alone by a window.

I heard the plane before I saw it.

I heard the roar it made.

I heard the roar get louder.

It sounded like something broken.

Or like something breaking down.

Then I saw the plane emerge from the clouds.

It was flying sideways.

It was flying too low.

It was coming straight for the window.

I knew no one else was watching.

That I was the only one who cared.

And so I thought some words.

It was like I was praying.

Like I was praying to someone.

Or praying to something.

I was thinking, Please, and, Please, and, Please.

But then the plane just shot across the sky.

The roar died out.

And I was sitting in the classroom.

I was looking out the window.

On some days I imagine the moment just before.

I imagine seeing a flash.

And on some days, I imagine the moment just after.

I imagine the plane as a rain cloud.

I imagine it spinning until it bursts.

Then I imagine flying through clouds.

Then falling through clouds.

And the ground coming closer.

A town growing clearer.

Then the town.

And then.

It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is it was night.

And it was cold.

It was night.

And it was cold.

It was night.

And it was cold.

Just stop.

Outside the window now were stars.

And there were lights below, as well.

The flight attendant was waiting for me.

She was waiting for me to be all right.

But I would never be what she needed.

So I had to perform.

I had to lie.

I had to say, I’m all right.

And I forced myself to look all right.

And I forced it harder.

And forced it harder.

Until she went away.

And I’m sorry, but I lied to you too.

When I asked if I could study abroad, my father said, Go.

He said, Get lost.

But I stood there thinking he’d change his mind.

Because I knew I couldn’t go.

Because I couldn’t leave my father.

I mean I couldn’t leave him lying there.

He was more broken than you could ever be.

More messed up than you will ever be.

But there was a time he was all right.

I was a kid, and he took me on a trip.

He took me to the beach.

It was the only trip we ever took.

Days, I swam in the water.

My father sat on the sand.

And on our last day, we watched a sunset.

And my father looked out at the water.

And he said, What if all the earth’s water were drained.

And at first I laughed.

But then I thought.

And then I thought.

Listen.

The girl’s initials were not G.O.D.

They were just G.D.

I never knew her middle name.

But whatever.

G.D.

G. fucking D.

I am not a mystic.

There are no mystics.

There are people who watch.

And there are people like me.

But that night at the bar, the misfit was on.

He went into his so-called trance.

And he was right about who walked in.

And he was right about every song.

And when he said the girl’s name,

And when he reached for her arm,

And when he said, Don’t go,

And when I looked at her face,

I should have said something.