58 THENEWYORKER,AUGUST19, 2019
put some purpose back into my life?
Blink.
Here’s what the qapp says, Jer says.
In the event of a subpar Scrape, should As-
sociate refuse recommended Rescrape, As-
sociate is to be removed from Program im-
mediately and restored to his or her Locale
of Origin, which, for you, brother, means:
we ship you back East and plop you
under that same old bridge, among the
fighting and the smoke and the filth.
Which is something I don’t cherish
doing to someone I’ve come to respect
and, to be frank, even love.
Blink.
Sorry to be so blunt, 89, says Jer. But
that’s what friends are for.
The night is now a big night in its
sky: low, blue, black stars all in a
smear.
Sun gone moon winning.
Moon has won.
F
rom inside house, someone Glimm
maybe coughs.
Cat in window looks out tail swish-
ing head tilted as if to say, Why not
have me for your cat, 89?
Sad sad though:
If blankslate that sledding boy
those blue-white days that flour-
haired Ma?
Gone.
And no one left to remember them
ever again.
No one left to remember Ma bring-
ing my blue robe wrapping me up.
My sweet little man she says
Imagine the lovely things you will
someday achieve in this magnificent
world How proud you will make me,
your mother.
O Ma O sorry Ma did not
achieve any lovely in this magnificent
Back door swings open.
Lightshape runs out.
Meg steps around Kennedy B. comes
off porch crosses yard walking
odd ly high heels on wet grass kisses
me on cheek puts flower in my pocket.
Rose, Kennedy B. says from porch.
Means she loves you.
Well, I actually sort of do, says Meg.
Come on, 89, sweetie, let’s go inside,
says Kennedy B. Next thing you know,
you wake up fresh, whole new start.
No more looking backward, 89, says
Jer. Only forward. From now on.
With us, says Kennedy B. Your friends.
Until the end, says Jer.
Doesn’t that sound nice, 89? says Meg.
Yes, I say.
B
ut can we give a few secs? I say.
Can we give you a few secs, says
Jer.
Can you give me a few secs? I say.
Not sure why we’re getting super
wonky over syntax this late in the game,
says Meg.
It’s sweet, he wants some me time,
says Kennedy B.
They cross yard open door light-
shape runs out.
Lightshape runs back in.
Alone in yard.
Smear of stars widest, lowest yet
Aspens sway Storage shed makes frog
noise with each breeze.
Must think take my few secs to
I am not am not now am no lon-
ger Elliott Spencer exactly.
The me I am now has never been
wino has never had wine does not
want since never has had.
The me I am now has words
Memories new and old I like him who
I am like him fine do not wish to
lose him or his memories of Ma or
memories of Vixen or of my old
school St. Damian’s clang in breeze goes
flagpole rope against flagpole Vincent
brings sugarstraw for me in his mitten and
sugarstraw for him in his other green
mitten Because we are: blood brothers.
Far from home Ma dead.
Jer stinker, Jer liar.
No friend or pal in all of world.
B
reeze now more Aspens shake
crazy in their leaves Gate clicks
its latch with each new push of breeze.
And just like snap I know: Ma’s
gate was missing one hinge must be
careful when the way to be careful
when opening Ma’s gate is use both
hands Much fun in Ma’s yard So
many wild
Ma holding picnic basket rushes
over whacks me with basket I laugh
and laugh and
Ruth is there Ha, Ruth! I recall
you! O pretty Ruth lies at base
of tree I just have am blotto have
just knocked Ruth right Ruth, on
ground, holding stuffed bear I gave
her: You break my heart, Elliott, I
wouldn’t marry you if you were the last
Ma: El, sweet Jesus. You drink and
drink and do such crazy
Grab bear from Ruth throw bear
on grill.
Bear burning ring I bought Ruth
still taped to paw.
Look at you, idiot! Ma says. Is that
who you are? Give me those goddam keys.
Go out gate to my Electra brand-
new Electra.
Ma drops gray head so sad Helps
Ruth up.
Blink.
Little sick, recalling that
Is that man me, now? Would I,
man I am now, knock down Ruth, throw
bear on grill, get in Electra, drive to To m’s
Dizzy Oasis, get further blotto?
No.
If I could go back Would stand at
gate say: Ma, the me you see now is
not the only me I may ever be There
is a me under this me who wishes to
do lovely in this magnificent And
some day
Watch, Ma: Watch, Ruth: This
new me In his time he has left Even
if it is only one thing lovely? Will
do Will try.
I go through gate using both
hands Ma and Ruth, in my mind,
smile to see me go so new Then am
in back of am behind of am out of
yard in (ha ha, I now recall it): vacant
lot Glimm, Meg, Kennedy B., Jer still
in house Never have I been so alone
with myself while outside! knees
hurt no spring chicken when and
where will I death? Will I death
alone? Probably yes I Little scared
Here is cactus Word I know from long-
ago cartoons watched with Ma.
One pal who might level with me
possibly, perhaps: Janet Ardmore,
KTODNewsTeamTwo.
Might I find her?
Maybe can.
These West trees (I know like snap)
are not my old East trees that I knew
by name: sycamore, dogwood, beech I
do not, as yet, know West’s trees’ names
But will will soon can learn am
learning all the time.
Know: night, star, moon Know:
walk, know hide Know: path and lit-
tle bit smiling take it.
NEWYORKER.COM
Saunders on the induced bafflement of fiction.
