Noah Cicero - The Collected Works of Noah Cicero Vol. I

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Why can’t you be like a normal boy and tell me everything is going to be okay?”

“I don’t really know you all that well. I don’t know if it will be okay.”

“You’re right. You don’t know me.”

Jack took a cigarette from the pack on the floor. He put the cigarette in his mouth but didn’t light it. Angela stared at him. She let the covers fall, exposing her breasts, and she stared.

“Are you going to light that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, tight-lipped so the cigarette did not fall from his mouth.

“What if I said I loved you?”

Jack found a lighter and lit the cigarette, slow and deliberate, as if to postpone answering the question for as long as possible. Finally, he said, “You still have a chance to stop.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Do something for yourself.”

“No one does anything for themselves. People do it for their parents, to make other people think they’re great, to get laid or make money, but they don’t do anything for themselves. I don’t have anyone to impress and there’s nothing I want. I don’t care about making anyone happy. I don’t care if I’m happy. People can go fuck themselves. And that includes you and me.”

“That’s a good attitude. You’ll get real far in life acting like a total bitch,” Jack said. He stood and walked around the room, gathering his clothes.

Angela looked at him as if she wanted to say something, but she said nothing.

Jack zipped up his jeans and buttoned his shirt. He had worn his socks during sex, so he did not have to put them on now. He slipped on his shoes.

Angela was still looking like she wanted to say something.

Jack considered saying goodbye. He thought better of it.

Why tonight.

Is this love.

He walked out of the room and left through the front door, ducking out into the cold night to his car in the driveway, where he sat. He felt the same as he did before he fucked her, only somehow crueler.

Back in the house, Angela lay in bed. She screamed and howled out to the night, but there was no one there to listen.

My dad brought me to the train station.

It’s a rainy night.

I’ve just graduated college with an English literature degree. I’ve never traveled in my life. The farthest I’ve ever been from home is Virginia Beach.

I’m sitting in the train station in Youngstown, Ohio, reading. I look around the room and see a fat white trash woman eating Taco Bell. A Chinese girl and a white guy cuddling, and a lonely woman reading a romance novel. It’s a sad sight.

It’s two in the morning.

I’ve lived a stupid life. My college existence consisted of going to bars and sitting at Denny’s till sunrise. I’ve had several girlfriends for long periods, but I don’t know if I have loved any of them. I said ‘I love you’ to them, but I probably just said it to get laid.

I’ve lived so many useless days. Days I can’t even remember.

The train arrives.

Everybody stands up.

We all march out to the train and get in.

It’s dark and everybody is sleeping.

A conductor takes my ticket, and I sit down.

I put my luggage up in the rack.

I’m nervous about this trip. I’m not one for adventure. I’m not one to live his life to the extreme. I’m boring. I graduated in four years. What kind of normal person does that?

I’m alone.

No one is here to help me.

No one is here to keep me safe.

I have to do this all by myself.

I’ve never done anything all by myself.

I’m not a loner.

I’ve just always wanted to be one of those guys who does insane things, has insane adventures, and just lives a really cool life.

I guess this is my chance.

I fall asleep.

I wake up in the morning.

The train is moving toward Chicago.

I look around the train looking for somebody to ask where the lounge is.

There’s an older man with a ponytail. He has a stupid look on his face. But I ask anyway. He answers, and then I go to the lounge.

I walk to the lounge and get a coffee.

I ask where the smoking section is.

The worker says there’s no smoking on this train.

I’m very pissed.

So I go to the bathroom and smoke a cigarette.

It sucks smoking in a bathroom.

I realize I’m not at home anymore.

I’m afraid of that fact.

I walk back to my seat.

Drink my coffee and stare out the window. There’s nothing out there.

Just ugly land.

I see a lonely cow in the distance.

The train arrives in Chicago. I get off the train into this huge train station. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where to go. My reality is hard to comprehend.

I walk out of the train station after looking for the way out for ten minutes.

I stumble down the street looking for a coffee shop.

There are none.

So I go to Starbucks.

It’s no smoking there.

I order a plain coffee and sit down with a book.

I read and sometimes look out the windows at passersby.

The coffee is too hot, and it tastes horrible.

The people of Chicago look pretentious.

They all look like poets and politicians.

I look homeless compared to them.

I finish my coffee and head back on the town.

I stop a taxi and take it to the library.

We ride around town for a little bit and he drops me off.

I walk up to the door.

And it’s closed.

The taxi is gone.

I get another taxi and go back to the train station.

I don’t know anything about Chicago.

I don’t know where to go.

I don’t feel safe just walking the streets aimlessly.

I’m afraid of missing my train.

Even though I have five more hours till I have to get on it.

I get back to the train station and eat.

I have a shitty cheeseburger.

Now I only have four more hours to go.

So I decide to get drunk.

I go to the bar and start drinking.

I drink rum and Cokes.

The world is slowly becoming a better place.

A young girl is sitting next to me.

She’s pretty. She has short blonde hair, a nose ring, and tight clothes on. So I start up conversation.

“Hi, what’s your name? I’m Arkady,” I say.

“Hi, my name’s Lucy,” she says.

“How come you’re at the train station?” I say.

“I’m going to New York.”

“Wow, that’s cool.”

“I don’t feel like flirting. Let’s talk,” Lucy says.

“Talk about what?” I say.

“Your mother.”

“My mother, why?”

“I’m not interested in boring conversation,” Lucy says.

“Okay, what do you want to know about her?”

“How did she treat you as a little kid?”

“She was at work most of the time, I never really saw her.”

“Is she vulgar?”

“Yes, very vulgar.”

“Does she fart in front of you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you spend time with her now?”

“Well, I smoke with her in the morning at the kitchen table. We usually talk then.”

“Do you tell her about your sex life?” Lucy says.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have a mother.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Why did you want to hear about mine?”

“I like to try to imagine what it would be like to have a mother through other people’s mothers.”

“That’s weird.”

“I don’t care if it is weird. I do it, all right.”

We sit there for a minute in silence.

“Why are you going to New York?”

“To read poems at cafes. All I’ve ever wanted to do was read my poems at cafes. I don’t care what job I have, it could be the shittiest job in the world, I just want to read my poems.”