Where'd You Park Your Spaceship?, page 21
Where is she going with this?
Otherwise it’s easy for everyday to start to feel like all the
others, until they’re all running together…
I just listen.
And then you wake up and it’s been another lap and
everything is exactly how it was and you start to wonder
what the point of it all is…
The build up is killing me. As well as my growing list of
questions, first among them: What do I have to do with
this…?
Which brings me to you.
Finally. Let’s get it over with.
Do you remember what we talked about the first time we
met?
Huh. I didn’t see that coming.
Um…not much-do you mean my interview?
A look of recognition. Whatever she’s building up to-we’re
almost there.
I guess what I’m trying to get at-and I know it’s crazy for
me to even be talking like this-but sometimes you just
have to step out and live dangerously, right?
She needs help. I jump in.
Lan Zing, whatever it is, you can say it.
Massive exhale. She slumps forward in relief.
I’m so glad to hear you say that.
She looks me in the eyes.
Heen, will you bake some sourdough with rosemary?
Now I’m the one who relaxes.
Sure.
She’s surprised.
Really??!! You will??!!
She jumps in her chair.
Yeah, yeah…we’ll figure it out. Can’t be that difficult…
She turns and looks at the one of the photographs.
Sorry-but I have to.
I don’t know what that was.
Who were you-Sorry for what?
Now she’s embarrassed.
My parents had very definite ideas about bread.
Ohhhhhhh I say. Got it.
If this was any other moment, anywhere else that I’ve
been, talking to the owner of any other bakery I’ve worked
in, I would be backing up right now. Disengaging. Finding
some way to keep the wall in place.
But I am not who I was.
This is Firdus.
And I don’t know what’s happened to me.
I don’t back up.
I step in.
Lan Zing, can I tell you something?
She is very still.
Yes.
Like she’s giving me permission. Which she is.
It’s not their bakery. It’s yours.
I say this with no emotion. Like it’s the most obvious fact
in the universe. A look crosses her face. It appears I’ve
offended her. Or her parents. She doesn’t say anything.
For a split second I wonder if I’m about to be fired. In the
split second after that split second I wonder if she’s about
to fire me. I wonder whether I would report being fired to
Randy.
She still hasn’t said anything.
I double down.
So bake whatever bread you want.
No expression on her face.
I cross my legs under me and sit like she’s sitting. It takes
me longer than it should. I grunt a few times. I’m not very
limber.
I gesture towards the kitchen.
WE’LL BAKE WHATEVER BREAD YOU WANT!
I say it with force and volume.
I lean back in my chair and laugh.
She doesn’t laugh.
She doesn’t say anything.
A tear forms in her left eye.
A smile slowly creeps in.
Thank you she says.
I could be reading in to it, obviously, but it appears like a
thousand pounds have been lifted from her shoulders in
the way that she says Thank you.
She points to my legs.
You should probably deal with that before you hurt
yourself…
I slowly unfold myself in the chair.
Good point.
I stand up.
Sourdough with rosemary-coming up GREAT BOSS ONE…
I walk out into the kitchen and see Bobby Freelance in the
alley. He’s standing shoulder to shoulder with a young
woman. I walk closer to the ovens so I can see what they’re doing. They’re talking to an older couple. Her parents?
Yes. I can see her in the man’s face.
Her parents.
They look anxious.
The young woman is saying something to them.
Bobby Freelance stops her.
He gestures to the parents.
The mother starts to talk.
Bobby stops her. Firmly.
The mother starts to speak to her daughter again, but
something subtly shifts in her body. She softens. Less
accusatory, more questioning.
The father looks bewildered.
Whatever is going on, it’s way beyond him.
Bobby Freelance leaves the young woman’s side and
stands next to the father. He points to the young woman.
She says something.
Bobby Freelance puts his arm around the father. Points to
the daughter.
The father says something.
Just a few words.
The daughter is having none of it.
Bobby Freelance says something to her. Again, firm.
Authority in his voice. She freezes. Then she relaxes.
The father says something again.
She softens.
Bobby Freelance nods to the father.
It appears he wants the father to repeat whatever he just
said.
The father repeats it.
The daughter melts, steps forward, and hugs her father.
The mother looks on, dumbfounded.
Lan Zing comes in, takes a look out into the alley, then turns to me and says Never underestimate Bobby Freelance.
Bobby Freelance puts his arm around the mother, and
then gently guides her down the path, away from the
father and daughter, talking to her the whole way.
*
I am laying out the baguette dough with Ziga Mey and I
have one thing on my mind. Flax, oats, barley, spelt, multigrain, almond-we have made a lot of bread from a lot of different flours this morning and the whole time all I can think about is what I saw yesterday morning with those people standing in that circle around her and her going on about whatever she was going on about.
Ziga Mey-
That’s as far as I get.
Yesterday morning?
YES!!!
She was waiting for me to ask.
I don’t actually know how it works.
She shrugs.
That’s happened before?
Borns places a tray on the table. I think I know what you’re talking about…
Borns, you’ve seen her do-
It is inscrutable, is it not Heen?
Borns turns to Ziga Mey. Please forgive me for using that word INSCRUTABLE. How about I use a different word? Delightful.
Ziga Mey is wearing a long red sweater. It goes down
almost to her knees. She’s got blue trainers on with
orange stripes. I am aware in this moment how much my
understanding of her has been shaped by her frustrations
with Phileep. I now see how strong and fierce she is.
I ask her Were you teaching them?
She winces just a bit.
That word makes me cringe-
I see what she means.
Did you see how old they are? What would I have to say to THEM?
Borns raises his hand, like you do in school.
But you did have something to say to them, did you not?
Come on, admit it, BORNS IS RIGHT…
He teases her. It’s charming. He is such a large man to so
often speak like a child.
She dismisses this. That isn’t the hard part. I always know
what to say.
A flash of that fierceness.
I step back from the table.
Hold on. Help me understand.
I care about this. For reasons that are not all that clear to
me.
I saw you in a circle of people drawing something on the
ground. Then you used me for an example-I was pretty
good, wasn’t I?-and then as I walked away you were
explaining something…How did THAT start? Why were
they even there?
A dog she says.
A dog?
And a chicken.
A dog and a chicken?
We’re making pretzel rolls. Passing the dough between
us, arranging the sheets, pulling them out of the oven,
putting new sheets in. We work very well together.
Ziga Mey sighs. You want to hear the whole story?
Of course we do! Borns claps. I am on the edge of my seat
and I am not even sitting down!
She launches in.
So I’m visiting my friend Rejen and we’re sitting on her
roof and she’s telling me about how her man Goati
constantly stops when they’re having sex because he says
he needs a drink of water and she thinks that’s weird and
she wants to know if I think it’s weird but while she’s
telling me this I’m listening but I’m also watching these
two men down below us at the fire pit the neighbors all
share. They’re cooking their dinner side by side but they
aren’t talking-they aren’t even acknowledging each
other's presence. I can feel the coldness between them
from way up there on the roof! So I ask Rejen about it and
she says that the man on the right-his name is Hoovert, is
that even a name? Who would ever think to name their
child Hoovert? That’s more like a QUESTION than a
name!-she says that Hoovert’s dog bit the chicken of the
man next to him-his name is Loof. Hoovert’s dog bit
Loof’s chicken and now Loof is claiming that his chicken
can’t lay eggs because of it. And Hoovert says that the
chicken deserved it and Loof says he should keep his dog
closer to home. But they live next door to each other so
HOME is a bit of a fluid concept, am I right on that?
Ziga Mey has set the dough down that she’s been folding
and she’s pacing around the kitchen, growing more
animated the more she talks.
And then Rejen goes on to say that their families aren’t
speaking to each other and they’ve each been trying to
get the other families who live nearby to side with them-well, that’s all I could take.
I look at Borns, then back at Ziga Mey.
That’s all you could take?
Yeah. I’d had enough. I climbed down from Dojen’s roof and
walked over to that fire pit and I sorted that nonsense out.
She returns to folding the dough in front of her.
Borns raises his hand. Ziga Mey calls on him Yes Borns.
You sorted it out?
Yes. I did.
We’re clearly not getting the whole story.
I don’t get it-What did you say to them?
Ziga Mey sits down on a stool next to the oven.
I said to them YOU KNOW THERE’S TWO KINDS OF
TIME. These two chuckleshmucks looked at me like I’d
just landed on this planet. THERE’S SHORT TIME AND
LONG TIME. YOU’RE BOTH SO STUCK IN SHORT TIME
YOU’VE COMPLETELY MISSED THAT THERE’S ALSO
LONG TIME. Still, they didn’t have a clue. Loof got all
defensive and said WE DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU
ARE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE LECTURING
US??!! Hoovert agreed with him. I pointed to the kids
playing in the field across the stream. WHOSE KIDS ARE
THOSE? They both said at the same time OURS. RIGHT, I
said. AND WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW IN THIS
STANDOFF OF YOURS IS DEFENDING YOUR DOG AND
STANDING UP FOR YOUR CHICKEN. WHICH IS SHORT
TIME. THIS MOMENT. YESTERDAY. TODAY. BUT THOSE
KIDS? THE ONES IN THAT FIELD OVER THERE? WHAT
DO YOU THINK THEY’RE GOING TO REMEMBER YOU
FOR? BECAUSE THAT’S LONG TIME. LONG TIME IS
WHAT LASTS. WHAT WE REMEMBER. WHAT ENDURES.
AND WITH YOUR RECENT BEHAVIOR? LAPS AND LAPS
FROM NOW YOU TWO ARE GOING TO BE
REMEMBERED FOR HOW YOU SPLIT ALL THESE
GOOD PEOPLE UP OVER A BARK AND A CLUCK. And
then I went back up on Rejen's roof and I sat down next
to her and I told her that Goati’s thing about constantly
needing to stop during sex to drink a glass of water is super
weird. CAUSE IT IS, RIGHT? HYDRATE BEFORE, OR
AFTER, BUT NOT DURING THE MAGICAL ACT-EVERYONE KNOWS THAT…
Borns and I stand there, looking at her.
What a woman.
Ladies and gentlemen, Ziga Mey Borns says with great
flourish.
I love that story I tell her. But I don’t understand what that has to do with those people I saw here yesterday morning.
Bobby Freelance appears carrying the bowls with
tomorrow’s ciabatta dough.
Tell them about the neighbors he says to her.
Ziga Mey laughs.
Well, Rejen told me that everyone was talking about this
woman who set Hoovert and Loof straight and they
wanted to know what I told them. Because they’d been
trying for days to talk some sense into those knobs. So
they came and found me.
I still don’t get it.
But what does that have to do with me pushing you from
behind?
Well, I got going, know what I mean? I just went with it.
And one thing led to another and one of them asked a
question so I explained a bit more-
You just went with it?
Yeah, I just started talking…
But when you called me over to be your example, you
acted like you knew exactly what you were doing-
I know!!!
She throws her hands up in the air, like she’s as
flummoxed as I am.
That’s why I told you I DON’T KNOW HOW IT WORKS!!!
Bobby Freelance passes back through the kitchen.
She’s the best I’ve seen he says.
I stop him.
Wait-this has happened before?
Bobby Freelance-for the first time ever-actually stops and
looks me in the eyes.
All the time he says.
*
I stay at work later than usual.
Listening to Ziga Mey’s story and Lan Zing’s thing about the
bread and Borns taking FOREVER to draw me a map and
explain every last detail with a story to back it up.
I haven’t ever stayed late at work.
From this map it looks like a long way to Borns' place.
But first, home to clean up.
Piddle, piddle, piddle.
OH GODS NOT THIS.
Dill Tudd appears between two buildings-I think one is a
distillery, in the other I see kids dancing.
I don’t know how he does it.
He isn’t here and suddenly he’s here.
Piddle, piddle, piddle.
He repeats it.
Like he always does.
I couldn’t agree more I respond.
Firdus, the planet where I lost my mind.
Listen, Dill Tudd, always good to see you. But I have to
get somewhere-
I stop walking.
I haven’t said that in laps.
I can’t remember when I last HAD TO GET SOMEWHERE.
Work. Of course.
But not, like, people. Friends.
I don’t have a lot of time to talk.
I totally get it he replies.
You do?
Didn’t expect that. No lecture? No jibber jabber about color or the nature of reality?
I smile so he’ll know I’m messing with him.
Heen has had enough of that for one day.
That’s actually true, more than he knows.
I have. Well said. Nice outfit.
I turn to leave him.
He’s wearing green today, but not the same green. One
sleeve is pea green, the other is vomit green, his hood is
the green of a frog’s stomach. One pant leg is oak tree leaf
green, the other is food spill green. The pockets on the
front of his shirt are the color green your face turns when
you get sick on a spaceship.
Thank you for the compliment he says. Green inhabits a parallel energetic field-
I’m sorry Dill Tudd, but really, I gotta go.
I start to turn left.
Even though this isn’t where I turn left.
He calls after me.
Heen, one question as you go…
I turn. He stands there perfectly calm, not a care in the
world. Wearing all that green. Both his hands are holding
the strap of his bag. He’s waiting for something. I have no
patience for this.
Yeah?…
I’m irritated. Impatient.
What is it?
He waits.
Fire away, Dill Tudd…
He speaks.
Where’d you park your spaceship?
*
My nose.
That smell.
It’s violent that smell, punching me in the face in the nose in
the center of my head.
I push it away.
A hand.
My hand.
Something scratchy.
A bar. A block. A chunk.
I’m holding it.
It’s the source of the smell.
I open my eyes.
I’m lying on the ground, right where I was standing
WHEN DILL TUDD ASKED ME WHERE I PARKED MY
SPACESHIP.
I catch another whiff of the chunk in my hand.
