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The Hogs of Entropy 0923
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ggg "A Simply Pink Dress, and Other Things" ggg
$$$ by -> Rhea $$$
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$$$ [ HOE E-Zine #923 -- 12/01/99 -- http://www.hoe.nu ] .,$$$
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I.
"Sometimes staring at the stripes on my sneakers just isn't
enough, you know?" Charles said, staring down at his sneakers.
Marvin blinked. "They're ugly sneakers, anyway," he said with a
shrug.
"No... that's not it..." replied Charles slowly. "They're just...
boring."
Marvin blinked again. "Then why are you wearing them?"
Charles shrugged. "Because I'm bored," he replied. Marvin rolled
his eyes and stared off into the west. Charles stared at his
shoes.
After a few moments of this intense staring, Marvin gasped.
Charles looked up.
"What?" asked Charles, looking to the west.
"There she is," whispered Marvin. His eyes squinted a little.
"Who?" asked Charles loudly. Marvin glared at him for a moment,
then went back to staring to the west.
"She. Her. The girl," he replied vaguely, his voice still hushed.
"But I don't see a girl," insisted Charles, still loudly.
"Right there!" exclaimed Marvin finally, pointing.
Charles looked, and saw. "Oh," he said lamely. "That girl. What
about her?"
Marvin shook his head. "You mean you don't see it?"
Charles shook his head harder. "See what?" he asked, frustrated,
his voice thick in confusion, thick like the dirt on his sneakers.
"She's beautiful," said Marvin simply.
"Oh. Yeah."
She was far away, but her hair was curly and brown and her dress
was pink. She was walking east.
"She's walking this way!" exclaimed Marvin.
"So?" asked Charles dully. He stared at his shoes with a sigh.
"You aren't even looking!" hissed Marvin angrily. "Look at her!"
Charles glanced to the west at the approaching girl. He shrugged.
"She's wearing a pink dress," he declared.
"It's a beautiful dress," whispered Marvin in awe.
Suddenly, east was here. She was here.
"Do you have the time?" she asked Marvin in a gentle voice. Her
knowing eyes were laughing at him.
"It's uh... 3 o'clock," stammered Marvin.
She turned to Charles. "I like you sneakers," she said, then
walked to the east, away.
Marvin and Charles turned immediately and watched her.
"She's beautiful," exclaimed Charles as she walked away.
Marvin shrugged. "She's OK..."
II.
The pink telephone cord dangled off the table carelessly.
"You should have seen these two guys," laughed Claire carelessly
into the telephone. "They couldn't stop staring at me. And one of them
had the ugliest sneakers..."
"I can't believe you noticed his sneakers," the telephone replied.
"You're right, it was a weird thing to notice," said Claire. "They
were actually very original shoes. I'd never seen anything like them
before."
"But they were ugly?" asked the telephone. There was a pause.
"Yeah... they were..." Claire replied eventually.
"Why were they ugly?"
"I don't know! They just were."
The telephone laughed. "It sounds like you disliked them just
because they weren't like usual sneakers, the kind of sneakers you're
used to."
"No!" exclaimed Claire, indignant. "At least I don't think so. It
couldn't be that... I'm not like that. Am I?"
"Relax Claire!" laughed the telephone again. "They were just
shoes!"
"I have to go, Mary," said Claire quietly. "I'll talk to you
later."
Claire hung up the white phone with a click. Were the sneakers
really ugly? She wondered. The cord still dangled.
It was 6 o'clock, the clock beside her bed told her. Three hours
ago... thought Claire vaguely. A curly brown hair fell in front of her
eye. She brushed it away, then stood up. She was determined.
She went back to the park. Would they be there? She wondered.
Would the boy with the sneakers still be there? She had to see.
Finally, she was through the park gates. The white stones of the
path crunched under feet. Would they be there? Would they?
Marvin was there, she saw him -- but she didn't know it was Marvin
yet -- and she recognized his stare immediately.
She walked right up to him and stopped. She waited. He stared.
Finally, he opened his mouth, inhaling, diaphragm flexing, vocal
cords vibrating, then exhaling, "Hi."
Claire smiled. A little bit. She waited.
Marvin went through the painfully slow process again while she
waited and said, "What's your name?"
"Claire," she said shortly, simply, passionately, desperately.
"I'm Marvin," he continued, in the same breath.
"Are you?" she asked.
He paused. Her hair was brown and curly. Was he? Her dress was
pink. He didn't know.
"Charles thinks so," he replied finally.
"Who is Charles?"
"The guy with the sneakers. My best friend."
The guy with the sneakers! Claire brightened. "Where is he?" she
inquired hopefully.
Marvin sighed -- a deep inhale, a heavy exhale. "Looking for
you," he told her quietly. He turned away from her pink dress and the
cruel simplicity of her speech and turned to the west and turned into a
perfect picture of indifference, as perfect as the setting sun.
Claire shivered as he walked away. As he walked away...
But where was Charles? Where were the sneakers?
III.
Charles roamed the streets to the east of the park for a while.
There were no girls with curly brown hair. He felt desperate. He ran back
to the park, his sneakers slapping against the pavement.
Marvin was gone. Charles looked around, silently observing the
evening shadows of the trees. The white street lights flicked on. And
then he saw it, on a bench under a tree that had been dark and silent -
he saw the pink dress. He saw the girl. The girl.
He didn't know what to say. She stood up silently. They stood
silently. Silently, silently, they stood.
Finally, Charles reached down and untied the dirty white lace of
his left sneaker. He slipped the shoe off. Then, he tried to untie the
knot on his right sneaker. It was stuck; he just yanked the shoe off
impatiently.
"I want you to have these," he said to her with deep feeling. The
stones pressed into his bare feet painfully, but he ignored it. He was a
tough guy. A tough boy. Was he?
She knew. "Thank you," Claire replied, taking the shoes. The white
laces dangled carelessly. She walked away to the east with his sneakers
happily. They would see each other again, he knew. She knew.
He stared down at his bare feet. They almost shone in the glow of
the white street lights. They were beautiful.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #923 - WRITTEN BY: RHEA - 12/01/99 ]
