Chanting, Do Not Disturb

Famous surfers float in the waves just before they break on the beach. It's nighttime and there are hundreds of surfer hippies watching them. A full moon beams into the water. A fire pit roars, people drink and dance around it. Michael walks away from me taking Beckett with him. I stay and watch the surfers in the water. There are dolphin sharks swimming around them. Everyone claps and screams. A man with giant lips tells me stories, asks me questions. I'm intriguing to him and feel a relief in this intrigue. My phone buzzes. The men in the water stand up in applause. I bring the man's face close to mine. We kiss. His lips are a combination of all the lovers I've ever had. My cell phone says chanting do not disturb.  

On the same level

An earthquake shakes the theatre I'm in. Beckett is with me, Michael too. We are watching something about lions when the ground shakes and pillars crumble. The lights go out and everyone assesses what's happened. I'm worried about my friend across town. I'm supposed to meet him and I don't know how I can get to him. People bring in bags of food from the concessions and start eating loudly around me. An announcer says we should not drive, the roads are dangerous, there might be another earthquake coming. Everyone checks the news on their phone. Michael, who is now a blend of himself and my former boyfriend decides to go grab more food from his mom's house in Oregon city. There is a giant trunk filled with provisions for two weeks. I worry about him going alone, I don't want our family apart if another earthquake comes. Still he leaves. Beckett and I head downstairs to see some friends. They are all distraught and quiet. A homeless man eats what's been left in the fridge in a lazy boy chair. He's unfazed by the earthquake, thinks we are now all on the same level. He chews raw pork sausages from styrofoam. I wince. 

They want something from us

Grandma Dot and Grandpa Ben pick us up in a shiny new Honda. We are running from a gang of white men and boys, the lost boys from the movie The Lost Boys. Some boys look like Kiefer Sutherland others look like Jason Patrick. They want something from us, photos of ourselves, photos printed on a white fedora, photos with catalog copy and price points. Grandma Dot wears a pair of black and white windowpane leggings and a mauve and black sweater. She has her hair done, she wears lipstick and isn't too skinny like she is now. She has all of her teeth. There's a glow to her skin. Grandpa Ben wears a red sweater vest over a white shirt, a pair of brown trousers. I sit in the back seat with grandpa Ben. I put the fedora from the picture on his head. He asks me where the hat was made. I look for the label and find too many. Grandpa Ben turns into an infant. He wears the same clothes. I morn the loss of his old body, the body I know, but I love the baby version of him and hold his tiny hands in my own. I look for Michael. He's in the trunk of the car, which is a little like an el Camino trunk. He rolls his eyes while holding onto a car seat. 

It's a Hard Knock Life

Michael, Beckett and I are in Brooklyn, specifically in Red Hook, under the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. We are walking to Carol Gardens. Things have changed. The neighborhood doesn't feel as rough. We're looking for an apartment to live in and end up seeing one that we like. It's giant and has multiple windows, a porch and a big kitchen. But the current tenants smoke. They are younger college boys who are throwing a party at the place while people are there to hunt for an apartment. Everyone searching for an apartment has kids. Later my sister, Beckett and I find an atrium with parrots. We song it's a hard knock life and the parrots mimic us. Beckett loves this and we are all laughing. I sing like a Mexican crooner, surprised how close and clear my voice sounds in this way.  I think to myself that I haven't been funny in a while, or playful, and how good it feels to do this. My sister and I laugh.