James stands outside the door breathing heavily, charlie mae continues to break glasses inside, he hears her house shoes shuffle across the floor.
Charlie mae is searching for her favorite mug, she throws every other glass on the floor. she steps on glass, a Ouch doesn't come out , instead she screams james. with bloody foot, she stumbles to the bathroom, her tears pour down her face, sitting on the top of the toilet, she trys to patch up her foot, but her hands are shaking so bad, she throws the gauze. Her mind is spinning, along with the room, she gets up off the toilet, and vomits violently, slumps down on the floor, the cold tile becomes her pillow for the evening. she dreams of her dead aunt Rose, looking beautiful in all her splendor, not the alcoholic schizophrenic, blank eyed woman that told her that her eyes were full of the devil. Rose is sitting on a swamp bank, with green leaves, and dark water around her, Young and regal, her long limbs hang off the bank she is sitting on.. she is dragging her fingers through the swamp water, humming the only song that Rose in her right mind played for her as a child. on the swamp bank, Rose flicks water at her, and ask,,,,do you remember the story i told you? do you remember i told you about fire? charlie mae nods..
A little kingdom I possess, where thoughts and feelings dwell; And very hard the task I find of governing it well. (Louisa May Alcott)
Charlie mae stares at her in awe, remembering how at eleven years old, she trembled in her skin, when Aunt Rose stood before her, six feet of fear, the same wildness that charlie mae holds in her eyes, Rose asked her "anyone ever tell you about fire charlie....hmph....she lit a cigarette...the johnson women, we got fire in us, yeah fire...charlie stared in her eyes, looking at the dark circles....Rose blew smoke..."hmph looking just like ya mama", then she began to tell her about heartbreak....
AWAKE
the tile is cool, but charlie maes body is hot, she reeks of alcohol, her mouth is dry, and there is blood all over the floor. sigh. she gets up slowly , to walk into her living room and see broken glass in the kitchen, all over the floor, empty bottles, her door open. sigh. she searches for her broom, no she should drink some water, oh no she has to throw up again. tip toeing over the glass into the bathroom, she vomits again, holds her mouth under the faucet. finds her mahalia jackson record, and begins to sweep, her ritual begins in the kitchen, in the living room, in the bathroom, mops the entire house. collects all of james things, shirts, his favorite glass, a sock here, toothbrush, a photograph they took together, all these things are placed in a neat pile in the corner. She pours florida water into her hands, starts form her head to the tip of her feet, in a sweeping motion over her arms, her stomach, her legs to the bottom of her feet, trying to rid herself of anything negative. in the bathtub, she soaks, crying along to mahalia jackson...........
