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| Edward Hopper "Eleven AM" |
Reached Out and Grabbed Her
Before she
jumped, Anna watched couples stride, arm in arm, into the Mode Theater from the
indigo, velvet-tufted chair of her bedroom. The smiling, flirting couples
donned sport coats, trilbies, feathers, and frayed dresses. The sounds of
saxophones and trumpets clamoring with each other rose without obstruction to
Anna’s fifth floor bedroom window.
Charles rubbed
the back of her uncovered legs. They were lying in bed; sheets tangled around
their legs. Anna’s fingers were deep in the grasps of his rough hands. After a
while, Charles got out of bed and put on his long-johns, overalls, boots and
jacket. He said, “Meet me in a week?” She looked up from where she’s been
twirling her finger on her stomach. “I’ll be there,” she said.
She was there a
week later to take in the salty air of the harbor.
He was not. And
neither were the sixteen other crab-fishermen who sailed with Charles. In the
harbor, bells called from within the ships that survived the storm. In the
city, behind Anna, bells tolled for those ships that had not.
Velvet rubbed
the back of Anna’s naked legs. She reached down and rubbed the chair making
shapes and lines with her finger. She drew a boat.
She’s five
years old at her grandparents’ house. Anna has drawn a dog in the taupe velvet
of an armchair in the drawing room. She wipes her hand across the image to
erase it. Next, she draws a flower, a girl in a dress, and a dove; erasing each
image before drawing a new one. Lastly, she draws a frown.
Anna stood up,
climbed onto the window sill, and stepped onto the ledge of her Art Deco
apartment building. The flappers and gentlemen looked smaller than they had from
Anna’s bedroom chair. And the jazz music bounced off her skin. Her pale skin
was blue and purple in the lights of entertainment. The bare bulbs of the Mode
Theater sign made rings in Anna’s eyes. The rings were disturbed by swelling
tears.
Anna closed her
eyes, causing the tears to pour over the brim and down her cheek. She blinked
and took one last look at the ground. She hugged herself and ran her fingers
across her stomach. Then, she leaned forward and let herself fall.
From behind,
large, nappy hand reached around her and pulled her into a tight hug. Her feet
hung above the socialite-filled street. She screamed. Some of the pedestrians
looked up, pointed, and let out horrified screams.
Anna stumbled
back through the window and onto the velvet chair. She passed out to the smell
of sea.
