Marigolds and Oranges: Solstice Seeds

a man in a suit is preaching in the streets. he tells us, people who want a revolution do not wait for one voice, people who have something of importance to share express themselves everywhere, no man is more important to another. at his feet i see asphalt but imagine it covered in chalk drawings. i imagine each individual painting their hopes and frustrations.
i go to a concert of a banned performer. he is exceptionally good looking in a way that makes him revolting. he sings a bollywood tune of change for the better and creates neon paintings on a clear screen between him and the audience. he inspires people, but only to make them look up to him, to copy him. it's not the same. but it's a good concert and i enjoy myself.
walking through a cemetery, aethy and i try to pick the perfect marigold. we compare our choices and fall behind the tour group. she tells me that the flower she has picked is on my skirt. exactly the same one! i lift my shirt and she is right. i am wearing all orange and yellow. the top of my skirt has prints of marigolds and one of them is exactly as the one in her hand. "even the flesh wounds" she says. and explains that before flowers grow to bloom, you have to take off the label. but you have to take it off when it's still dry. if you take it off the pod when it is wet, it will leave a scar that will show through it's whole life. despite the brown scars on the flower, it is the most beautiful i have ever seen and i want to cradle it in my hands. aethy is worried that we have lost the group. i tell her we'll just go around this way and meet them at the entrance. she's not sure that will work and i tell her that all cemetery roads lead to the same place. she agrees that is the case and we walk on a shady path beneath heavy pine branches and look at broken, forgotten stones where no one visits any longer.
the next day we return, but the marigolds are replaced with oranges. aethy tells me that i'm lazy, i haven't even changed clothes. but i have. i'm just wearing different layers or orange and yellow. i shrug and don't correct her. we pick oranges and jump onto a slab of concrete that is painted with oranges of varying degrees of ripeness and color. they are labeled with numbers. aethy tends to pick oranges at level 8 no matter how hard she tries to get a lower number. i believe i have found the perfect orange. i jump down onto the 3 and am pleased that i am correct. i boast and begin to peel. aethy doesn't seem to have noticed my victory. i lay on the ground facing the sun high above and close my eyes. i reach back, blind, and pull off slices, savoring their tartness. this is the type of orange you want in juice, i think. this is perfect. i tell aethy again. she tells me it's not ripe enough. there are seeds. i hold the last few slices and can see three large seeds haloed inside their skin, a perfect stained glass composition. i bite in anyway, determined to prove that my orange is still good. the three seeds turn out to be 18.
in all, i bleed out 48 seeds back at the house. the woman, she is a friend's mother i think, does not believe me, but i show her the pile still sitting on newspaper on the top of the trash in the bin. she says she's never known someone to have so many, she herself only expelled 12 when it was her time. but it's official now, she'll give me some tips on what lies ahead.
before we move to the sunroom, i grab three slimy pits from the newspaper. "i want to plant them" i tell her. she laughs kindly. "i did the same thing" she says. i do not ask her if they grew.

little divas and hamster lights

i was moving. into a dorm room but not a school dorm room. like, a "this is your new life get used to it" dorm room. and before i moved there i got two hamsters. i don't know if i bought them or they were given to me... can't remember. but i remember pulling them out. they were so warm and their little bellies bulged and i loved them. i was frightened by how fragile they feel. i haven't held one in years. then i put them back in the cage and went to live in my room. it was dark and gray and bare and i put the hamsters on the floor by the bed. then i decided to go explore and figure the new place out and a few days passed. i was at a make-up store and i was mad because my mom gave me a gift certificate even though she KNOWS i don't wear makeup. she was there and i was just trying all different kinds of lipstick and blush on my hand. there were tables with big lighted mirrors sitting across from you so you could decide on what looked best. then a bunch of school age girls came in. like 9 year olds. and they were having a birthday party there because all the parks were closed and so businesses were offering their space to the kids. they were screaming and laughing and putting on makeup and practicing in the mirrors how to be divas. and i talked to someone at some point about pets and i remembered that i had the hamsters and i ran to my room and thank god they were alive!!!! someone explained to me what they eat. it was a piece of crustless bread with jam on it, then you would take out a chunk of it so that it looked like a latch and then you would add another half to it that would have this little basket pellet thing of nutrients in it. and that was important. because anything could make it look right, make the food look like it fit together and the hamsters would eat it, but only the nutrient pellet would lock in place and hold the latch closed and only the nutrient pellet would keep them healthy. and i said i understood and then i was this calico hamster looking at my blonde cage-mate. she was fat and quiet and didn't say much. she had two lights on her head. i had at first looked down on her for that. *I* had 56 lights on my head. each light was from a person who had thought of me and wished me well since i was taken to this place. sometimes they would go out and disappear, but days later, i still had a lot of poeple thinking about me. but her two lights.... they were always steady, always bright, and never went out. she didn't have any others, but she always had those. and suddenly i understood that she must be a very good soul to have two others, whether they were friends or parents or family or loves.... they truly loved her even when she was gone. and she never complained about the conditions or being torn from them. i thought that she must feel their love. she must feel their lights on even though she couldn't see them up behind her eye on the left side of her head. i had been complaining, bragging, wanting to go back to everyone, using my lights as proof that i shouldn't be here in this place, that i was meant for something better. but i didn't know if my lights were on or not. i just assumed they were. she KNEW. and suddenly i loved her very much for it and decided i was going to make the best of the situation and stick by her no matter what. that the old life was over.

why does she have the key to my secret room?

we're getting out of class and we're all pretty excited to be back together again. on the bus we're reminiscing. we're trying to remember what a few kids would sing on the way home and kristy belts out an "ooh oh wee ee ohh oooh" and we remember. yes! that's right, she's got it! we laugh all the way to our own stops. earlier we had all been sitting around an empty room in our ripped jeans and adult bodies. there are new people too. i get off at my stop and run up the stairs. my mom had told me that there was a cleaning lady and she had the key to a secret room that she found. i get to the top of the back stairs and wait at the locked door. she opens it not expecting to see me. i tell her that i know she has the key and she is in fact just pulling a bike out of the room. from what i can see of a corner, it looks big and empty with large marble-patterned tiles. she closes it and leaves. she thin with long blonde hair, about my age. she looks innocent enough, but why should she have the key to the secret room of my house on mathew rd? i decide that i will ask for it. i should have it, not her. she'll have to give it to me, since she works for my family. i suspect that there is a secret drawer in the wall by the stairs that she doesn't know about, but i'll check on that later. i walk on through to the regular stairway and look out the second story window. there is a restaurant/bar there. i am shocked. this place used to be surrounded by trees and cornfields. how much has changed since i left? i ask seth if it's any good and he says that it's alright. i think that maybe i'll go there for dinner, i might as well get to know the place again since i'll be staying there. i go outside into the wet parking lot and look at the signs through the fog. it's chilly, but comfortable. just the way i like it. i think that i should go to the library and ask for maps of sterling and rock falls with borders so that i can reorient myself, i have no idea which direction i'm facing. i decide to go exploring and find myself in the basement of my home. i go out the door into a set of underground pedways. i think that it is quite convenient despite my surprise. there is a bustling business center down there. at first i only see secretive, dirty, thick and heavy basement doors with small reinforced glass windows and peeling notices for the hosptial. they go to the gynecology department and to the varification of records department and to the testing center. but then i find myself in a large foyer that is teeming with people and markets. in the center is a table covered with a huge pile of wet, cooked white rice. 2 cups for a dollar they tell me. the young girls, who look so much like my maid but in druid garb, ask me to watch. they reach into a bowl and put handfuls of cinnamon on the rice. then they start to mix it up, but it's not working so well so they poor milk right on the table from a pitcher. it splashes and soaks in and drips off the edges of the worn and raw wood table. the girls work their hands through it mixing the rice and cinnamon together. a young man is with them and flashes a well-practiced smile at me. 2 cups for a dollar, it's a great deal, they remind me. i think that it is a great deal and i have a dollar. but something's not right. just thinking of the sweetness makes my stomach turn and i think that they shouldn't use cow milk, they should use coconut milk. i'm beginning to sense a trap when my alarm scares the hell out of me and makes me jump up wide awake. texturally, the most vivid dream in months.

you need a reed

i was being chased by a vague gray-clad person. his whole body was covered in gray - like a lycra suit or something. and i knew i couldn't outrun him so when i came by a pole, i climbed up it. it was a tree. but it only had two tiny branches. i went to the top one about a hundred feet up. and before he reached me and touched me (really, i was just afraid of his touch, not being killed) i decided that i would jump. i thought that i would probably just break my legs but otherwise survive. and so i went to the end of this tiny branch with its two leaves and i hung from it ready to drop. but i was stopped. a plump motherly figure firmly told me "you need a reed." and i was annoyed that i was being disturbed in this stressful moment but she repeated "you need a reed. it will bend and you can drop safely into the water." and even though it was barren ground beneath me, i saw the truth of this. and then i was sitting in a bathtub washing myself and thinking "a reed. i need a reed." and she had brought me to this clean place where i could think and there were big bright clean towels to dry off with folded all around on the white tile. she asked me if i was okay and i said that i was. my mind was racing with gratefulness and thoughts of how i had almost dropped and injured myself but just needed a reed.

david and the bulldozer, alligator, white ebony, and anger

preparing for surgery, it is my job to verify the phone numbers of patients and circle the numbers on the charts and give them to the surgeon. today, there are four surgeries at once. two of them are patients i am responsible for. flipping through their charts, there is a photo of each patient. the doctor pulls out every photo and asks me to name the two patients that are mine. i can name the baby, the not the five year old boy. "jesse" he tells me and i repeat the name, ashamed that i could not remember only two names. i will never be a great nurse, i think.

standing in the atrium by the OR entrance, a nurse flips through photos of a man. he is a famous photographer named david. each photograph is of him a different age standing in front of larger and larger blades of bulldozers. the nurse explains that it was foretold when he was very young that he would be crushed by a bulldozer and he has been obsessed with this notion his whole life. he is coming here so that we have a chance to save him from his fate. we look up to see him running down two and a half flights of wall to wall stairs in the atrium. behind him is a bulldozer the size of, and shape of, a gigantic house. i say to the nurse next to me "but surgery won't save him, will it?" she still stares straight ahead at the doomed man running towards us and shakes her head "no."

sitting in the joint commons room with my classmates, we hear that a couple of students are going home. it's not a pleasant school to be at so we are all a little jealous but there is sadness also because we've had to become so close to survive. i am sitting on the couch and the alligator is laying across the top. he is a tall, strong, sensitive, older and intelligent black man in an alligator suit that he never takes off. it's easy to fall for him. presently, a young girl of about 19 years that resembles my cousin is leaving. she has said goodbye twice already, but she just can't bring herself to leave the alligator. she comes in with a tall, pale, nasally speaking white man. he tells her that Niger most definitely means "apple". she stands her ground and says proudly that he is wrong, it means "black". the people around the room agree with her. the alligator backs her up in a forcefully deep voice. she points to a map leaning against the wall and says that she is going home to Nigeria. the alligator tells her that they cannot be together until she finds a matching alligator suit and maybe she'll find one there. she says that she will do even better than that; she will find white ebony which will allow him to shed his suit. they embrace and it is clear that they will truly miss each other's company.

jolene's parents are taking her home too. they're angry about something. she is panicking, rambling things that don't make sense. she is flipping through the notebook and i see that each page has a title "who i love today" and check boxes with names underneath. sometimes it is the alligator. lately, it has been me. sometimes she has changed my name to "kaylynn". her father is a large, bald, and angry-red man. he lefts her out of her chair by her arm and leads her away. i get up and walk away from her sad notebook.

i realize everyone has started eating. i put a little of the disappointing buffet on my plate but it all has seafood in it and i can't stand seafood. i get to the pathway to the other half of the cafeteria and almost run into closed glass doors. i am annoyed that they are closed but no one seems to have noticed me standing there awkwardly wondering what to do next. i see there is an open panel in the glass to the right by the seafood. i go there and walk into the half of the cafeteria where my friends are. i'm much more comfortable and at ease here.

my dad is visiting. he wants to know how we like it. we tell him it's terrible. he says it can't be that bad, there's 19 buildings and so much to do. i tell hm that there may be 19 buildings, but we'll never know. we're only allowed into a few rooms: the cafeteria, the common room, the sundry store, the classroom, and the tiny, windowless, hot room where dave shiner gives his boring 3 hour sermons. my friends agree and testify that i am telling the truth. my dad looks angry because he paid for something else. but he is not angry enough to rescue me from this hellhole. i know that for sure.

on a committee in a large sunlit room that i have never been in before, we sit around a rectangle shaped by tables. there is a new faculty member. he shouts and argues that we need to change the tax code around graduation gowns, it's not fair to the students. they just can't afford it! the older faculty all look angry that someone is standing up for the students but only one person argues against it. i know that this is huge. i don't quite understand this tax code that they are shouting about but i understand that we students finally have an advocate. i roll my pencil up and down my notepad, waiting silent and excited, listening carefully.

Detroit?

we are watching tv at my mom's. we love to do this because she not only has cable, but she has a huge tv. an infomercial comes on while the boy is on the phone with the presenter. they seem to have come to some sort of agreement and the host is one of those very smart boys from mchenry. this portion of the infomercial is a special deal, just for us! he tells us that for $240 he can get us a 150 inch tv and they'll even take off the $120 cost of flying chris out here to set it up. i don't know who chris is but the boy has already agreed and i can't deny that it's a great deal. but i don't know how i'm going to get $240 either.

i'm walking through detroit. the sidewalks are a little wobbly and i'm glad i'm only holding a light plastic bag along with my purse. but soon enough, i crash through and am in a dirt tunnel beneath where the sidewalk should have been. there is a hispanic man and a little girl walking ahead of me. they look back, but don't say anything. i follow them back up and they go into a house. i follow the now sturdy sidewalk but cannot get out of this section of housing. there is a chain link fence everywhere. i even climb up on someone's cellar door to see if i can climb but there is electric fence at the top. it's a lot of security, but i feel reasonably safe. i go back into the tunnel and climb back out where i had fallen and walk around the fence and along the street. there is a business man in front of me. i ask him if there is a number i could call to for the city. he looks at me like i'm crazy. i say, you know, a hotline i could call for information or to make complaints. they sidewalk fell in back there. if they don't fix it, they are going to get sued. he tells me to call 3333 and sarcastically says "good luck. whenever i call i don't get anyone to answer." so i text my message to 3333 expecting no answer but angry and not willing to stay quiet. i get an immediate response that Doyle (the sherriff) saw me at the vet the other day. i perceive this as a threat but i've got nothing to hide.

waiting under the train tracks for a bus i see lots of people. they live in mobile homes and out on the street but they are all in a joyous mood. it feels like a holiday. someone recognizes me and says hello. we embrace warmly. it is angie from high school and she looks terrific and happy. she leaves abruptly for her train but she smiles genuinely before saying goodbye. i wait for my bus clenching my bags and thinking that i don't need the tv.

tornadoquakes and earthdrawers

we are at a tori concert. it's been pretty good so far and i enjoyed myself thoroughly, but i'm older now and it all kind of sounds the same so i don't feel like sitting through the encore. she has two pianos on the stage and saradevil comes out and starts playing sister janet and belting out lyrics. "master shaman, i have come." i smile at her confidence, happy that she has this moment for herself and go down to the basement.

i sit in a leather cushy chair with my feet on the coffee table next to my friend. he is not particularly attractive, a little heavy, hair mussed, rather plain looking in his balck t-shirt and dirty baggy jeans. but he's nice to me and he listens to me and this is just fine for now. i practice flirting with him. i tell him that there are about 400 songs on my playlist and i chose the specific order of each song but really i wanted to put all of the megadeth songs at the top of the list. he lip syncs along with dave mustane and i am sincerely impressed by this boy. i tell him that i need to call his friend to see if he wants to hang with me. he seems a little hurt that i want to leave him and i brush it off like the arrogant teenager i am. i just want to be around more people is all. i call but he doesn't pick up. i shrug and continue to listen to music with him in this concert hall basement which has windows that look out into the depths of a muted sea. fish swim by silently and we don't even think to look at them we are so used to it.

my mother is working at the marina again and my friends and i really want cookies. but then i remember that we don't have butter. we are wandering around outside deciding to go to the store when we fall. grabbing the grass i look up and point to a place in the sky. i don't really know why i'm pointing there but we all look and soon can make out a tornado. it's big but going away from us. however, it's still strong enough to cause the earth below us to rise upward and expand. when the tornado is gone i look below me and see a perfect raised square about a foot higher than the rest of the ground. about 6 inches high is an extension, another rectangle. as if the earth was raising up secret dressers and pulling out ancient drawers. they are everywhere. houses have towers of earth that have smashed through them up to their roofs and dirt and belongings are pooring out of their doors and windows with curtains fluttering outside in the the breeze of a calm and sunny day. i think that i am glad i didn't go to the basement and it's stupid for us to think it is a safe place. i could have been smashed into the ceiling.

i call my mother and tell her of the earth drawers. she laughs and asks me if i honestly have never seen them. i'm a little hurt that she thinks me so naive, but i admit that i have never seen them in my life. she tells me that she used see them all the time just by laying on the ground on her stomach and saying through cupped hands directly into the earth "hello, hello, hellloooooooo."

we decide that we don't want to make cookies anymore. we'll just buy a box of pre-made brownies that just have to be greased and cut.