Oxford Girl by Mgan Abbott Oxford I fll in lov with an Oxford girl With dark and darling ys. I askd hr if sh d marry m, And m sh nothing dnid. * Two a.m., you slid on of your Kappa Sig T-shirts ovr my had, fluorscnt grn XXL with a blach stain on th right shouldr blad, soft and smlling lik old shts. I fignd slp, your big brothr Kith snoring lustily across th room, and you, arms clutchd about m until th sun startd to squak bhind th Rbls pnnant across th window. Watching th hump of your Adam s appl, I trid to will you to wak up. But I couldn t wait forvr, du for first shift at th Inn. Who ls would stir thos big tanks of grits for th gamwknd arly arrivals, parnts and grandparnts, all mannr of snowy-haird alumni in saring rd swarming into th café for thir continntal-plus, six thirty sharp? So I lft you, your had sunk dp in your pillow, and duckd out still waring your shirt. Wor it hustling across th Grov, my lgs bar and goosy in last night s party skirt, th zippr stuck. * Th Oxford Girl is an English ballad with multipl lyrical variations dating back at last to th 1820s and possibly as far as th svntnth cntury. This vrsion coms from th John Quincy Wolf Folklor Collction at Lyon Collg.
112 // Mississippi Noir I wor your shirt, frat boy, bcaus it was stiff and warm and smlld lik you, your bd, you. I wor it all day Friday, to my midtrm and to gn chm lab and to Walgrns and Holli s Swt Tooth to pick up th cookis for tomorrow s tailgat. That vning, had in my calc txt, I fll aslp at my dsk still waring it, pag cras on my chk. So of cours I was still waring it whn you wok m up, coming on lvn o clock, you drunk and hatd up on somthing, vrything. You had a funny look in your y I d not sn bfor and I thought, Dos h know? But you couldn t hav. I d only larnd myslf a fw hours bfor, th Walgrns bag hiddn in my trash. Th baby insid m was far smallr than a pinhad, th Intrnt told m. Did you fl it, though, somhow can boys? whn you hoistd m on th sinktop in th Kappa Sig bathroom th night bfor, your hands on my blly? Your fingrs wr fiv thumbs lik hot dogs but you wr strong, strong as my dad swinging a bat in our backyard in Batsvill, saying, My girl, my girl, sh s going to th U, all. That s my prid and joy. Sh aims proud and tru. Somon as strong as you couldn t fl somthing as small as a pinhad, could you? But is that why you did m, bcaus of th baby you put insid m? It wasn t vn a baby yt, xcpt mayb to God. Didn t you know I would fix it. I had drams too. Biggr drams than you, frat. Th first tim I saw you was at church, and it was fat bcaus I
Mgan Abbott // 113 hadn t bn sinc Eastr. Your fac stuck out among all th othrs. It was lik I knw you, girl. It wasn t until latr I figurd out whr I d sn you bfor: in th painting hanging on th wall of my grandmothr s hous. A smudgy rndring of a ptticoatd country girl fding a baby calf with a bottl. It was on hr wall my whol lif, right abov th tabl with th phon you had to dial, and th girl was so bautiful, with light on hr fac. You had that light on your fac. Th nxt day, I saw you again. You wr gliding up th library stps at svn a.m., just as I was slouching hom. On of thos mornings I d bn snaking fast through som girl s pink-foild door th ntir door covrd in wrapping papr, that s a thing som girls do, th door also dripping with things, Mardi Gras bads, a mssag board with a frilly pn hanging from it. So many things, so that whn you snuck out just as th sky was shaking night off you couldn t hlp but wak that girl, th cinnamon blast of last night s firball from hr opn slp-mouth. Evn aftr I scapd th swt cram whip of a bd, wriggling fr by sliding out from hr arm hookd around my nck, wrist pinnd to my thigh, that booby-trappd door still told on m. Th clattr-click shimmy-slap of that gimcrack door, waking all th girls on th hall, thir topknots sliding from slping hads. Ths girls, thy wr all lik candy, swt n sour. My mouth, my gut, coatd with it. With thm. But you wr diffrnt. I could tll. Your hart, pur as a girl in a dram that s what I knw, just from looking at you. You in th fadd pastld pictur in my grandma s hous, that baby calf nar purring with dlight, had nstld on your soft bosoms. Your hart pur and your body barly touchd, nvr said a curs and bt you irond your bdshts just lik my grandma
114 // Mississippi Noir too. Sh told m that boys wr mant to misbhav and it was for a good girl to sav us boys, ach and vry on. You wr that girl. Don t drink anything srvd out of a trash can. That s what my big sistrs told m bfor th party. Which will b a chang from Batsvill, on of thm addd, winking man at m. I was th only Batsvill Chi O. Mom had th plan long ago, all thos wknds I spnt babysitting for hr boss at South Panola Vtrinary, Dr. JoAnn Kitts, who also happnd to b prsidnt of th local Chi O alum chaptr. Onc sh knows you, Mom said, sh will lov you, vryon dos, and thn you ll gt your bid and you ll liv in that big hous whit as coconut cak with such grand pillars. Aftr I pldgd sh had m tak picturs of hr standing on th porch waring hr Proud Chi O Mom swatshirt, waving and waving undr th sky-high pillars. At th party, thr was no trash can I could s, only th sunshin punch in th plastic bowl mad to look lik crystal. Do you know it was you who srvd us first, m and my Chi O sistr Brian, giving us two plastic cups apic, saying to m, Prtty gals shouldn t hav to wait twic? Th music was shaking through us and th punch tastd lik Country Tim, but I saw th jugs of Evrclar bhind you. Soon, w wr dancing. Tim shook us fr and our bodis lapt and writhd for hours. Chi-O, my ho, it s off to bd w go, som of you boys wr singing. Wr you on of thm? Midnight struck with Brian puking grat goldn gushs on my shos in th bathroom. In th tight stall, sh crid hot shuddrs against m and told
Mgan Abbott // 115 m all about you. Did you s th boy who gav us th cups? sh sobbd, sputtring. Thn saying sh couldn t bliv you didn t rcogniz hr bcaus you had lovd hr on wknd last spring. How sh mt you in this vry hous for a boots-and-bowtis mixr and aftr many vodka sodas you took hr on th roof and prsuadd hr with such honyd words to dip hr dainty duckling nck into your lap and gav you vrything hr littl motor mouth could. Latr, sh passd out in your room and in th morning you wr gon but lft hr a half-full bottl of Gatorad and an mpty trash can in cas. Which sh thought was swt. But sh was a Jackson girl, and what did sh know of lov? Hr brath swt and rank in my ar, sh confidd that, th nxt day and th nxt, sh txtd you and txtd you dirty things sh thought you might lik, and romantic thoughts too bcaus you d told hr th night you two mt, hr had rsting warily in your lap aftr hr task, hr mouth suffusd with your lov: You ar my girl, arn t you? you d said. Ah, you ar, hot thing. You nvr txtd hr back, not vn whn sh snt you that pictur of hr Chi-O-My! thong twirld around on sparkly fingrnail. Whn Monday cam or so sh told m, hr gritty tth clicking in postvomit chill sh walkd into th studnt union, th air thick with th sour yast from th Subway s ovns gusting through th pips, and saw you sprawld across on of th crustd loung sofas with a ponytaild girl in sharling boots and th shortst of MissBhavin pom shorts and probably hailing from Txas. Oh, how sh wriggld and cuddld against your Kappa Sig shirt, th sam on against which Brian had prssd hr chk two days bfor, doing your businss for you in your frat boy lap. That was all thr rally was to Brian s sad story xcpt for a dry hav or two. So I cland hr fac with a papr towl and
116 // Mississippi Noir trid to winch hr upright, but thr was no doing. I would hav to call for backup. I waitd on your staircas stps, Brian huddld at my ft. That was whn I saw you again and you wr so drunk you trid to hand m anothr cup of that slfsam party punch that had bn splashd on my ankls as Brian had rlayd hr tal of wo. I said a foul thing to you, but you didn t sm to har. But what you said, frat do you rmmbr? You said, I v sn you so many tims. Lik, my whol lif. And I didn t know what it mant, but it movd m. Wll, I nvr card much for Brian anyway, or any of th Jackson girls with thir parls and buttry purss. M, I hold my hart with grat car. I do not tndr it lightly, ovr soft words. I calld at hr sistr s hous About ight o clock on night. I askd hr, would sh walk with m, And w d nam our wdding day. Th party aftr th LSU gam, and thr you wr, in my own hous. You wr holding that stubby Chi O s hair back as sh havd SoCo punch down th front of hrslf lik a littl girl spilling lmonad on hr Sunday drss. Th church, th library, and now hr: I guss it cam to sm you wr always doing honorabl things: praying, studying, hlping popl. Latr, aftr king s cup and th glass lg of br, I lookd for you. I huntd th hous for you, calling your nam, bawling it, shantying it. I sought to conjur you, but you had gon.
Mgan Abbott // 117 It nvr would hav happnd if you hadn t lft th party. In that way, it was your fault, in part. Sarching on th sagging back porch, so havy with rdfacd partirs it smd to undulat, a ship on a stormy sa, I cam to s that Sigma Nu drlict (oh, I knw his kind, playd against thm in high school, thos tufthuntrs from Jackson Prp). H was swinging high his solo cup and shouting for all to har, his arm flailing back and swatting that littl whit-blond girl, who collapsd lik my grandma s lung. I had to hit him, you s. I had to hit him vry tim I did. All thos tims. I did not hav to kick his had on th porch floor, his body curld S-lik, lik th snak h was. But it flt at th tim that I did. It turnd out th whit-blond girl had only bn bnt ovr laughing, hr br cup knockd from hr hand by that Sigma Nu in a way that mad hr laugh. But whn sh saw what had happnd th guy, th dud, th dat-rapr-typ miscrant lying thr on th planks, his fac swirld rd sh stoppd laughing, hr hand to hr onc-loud mouth. Sh did not vn hav th words to thank m. Thr was th fling that I should lav, and Kith put his ballr hands on m and mad it so. His bros will b hr soon, h said. Thy will hunt you, dud. Thy will tak you down and bury your bons in th Walk of Champions. I wasn t afraid. I took a long stroll and fll aslp a whil on a sofa in th studnt union. Whn I rturnd, vryon was gon. My shirt had rd dots all ovr th front and I tor it off, hulk-lik, and hid it in th dumpstr bhind th hous. Th dud was fin. Mr. Sigma Nothing. I saw him in accounting on Monday.
118 // Mississippi Noir Th blood collcting undr his chkbon, wll, it lookd imprssiv. Lik a Purpl Hart. Two days latr, thr you wr, frat, sitting two tabls away at th library Starbucks. You cam ovr, hot chocolat for you, skinny mocha for m. Is that what w all drink? I said. And I told you I d hard som things about you that I did not car for. You said it was probably all tru. Rgrts, misdds, bad tmpr, and carlss lov. But you wrn t lik that anymor, vrything was changing insid you. Thn, lik in a bad song lyric, you fingrd a hart in my foam. I rolld my ys, but still: I flt a shivr on m. Insid, I was afraid. Bcaus it smd to m you didn t know yourslf at all. Lik othrs, my brothr, my loudmouth dad. But just lik that, your fingr thr, your ys lowrd, I knw I likly lovd you anyway. Bcaus w wr mant to cross paths, boy, just lik I knw what was coming. I could fl th blood pushing at my tmpl. I knw you would tast lik th insid of a swt appl. I talkd you into following m up two sts of library stairs, among th humming copirs, th chug of th vnding machins, whispring studnts, kys clicking. Thn I talkd you into taking my hand as I ld you btwn two rolling stacks in a far cornr whr books on things lik tax incidnc and th fishry industry sit. My boy Kith spottd us and summond a young pldg to wind th handl on on of th moving stacks, prssing us two togthr. W could fl vrything about ach othr. I wasn t vn mbarrassd. W wr crushd.
Mgan Abbott // 119 You rachd out for my hand. In that momnt, I would v marrid you. If only you Th nxt night, w took that walk in Baily Woods, brs pourd into camlbacks, and th sky wnt gold, thn black, and w got lost, vn though it s lss than a mil dp. Swt gum trs ovrhad, kissing long and slow at th junipr stump, our fingrs poking into its dark pockts. Thn w saw that dad dog and said a prayr ovr him bcaus w both hav Jsus snaking in our harts somwhr. W wnt back to th Kappa Sig hous and to your mold-furry room and your roommat gon, and I couldn t gt my jans off fast nough. You ownd my hart, frat boy. So fast th fling, I didn t car what was coming. I think it wasn t what w did in your dirty-sht twin bd that mattrd. Aftr all, it only lastd as long as it taks to walk across th squar. I think it was th way you lookd at m, th moon coming through th Rb pnnant hanging in th window, pink on your boy fac. How you lookd at m. Your ys all crazy, lik you saw somthing I v nvr sn in myslf bfor, nvr sn vr. Thr s a univrs out thr, littl girl is what I cam to know through ach of thos soft xplosions I flt aftr I showd you what to do with your hand, that trick of th wrist. You had a surprising way of shivring through intimacis, which you did ach of th twlv tims w did it bfor I did. My lgs shaking, lik a littl bar-balld virgin. I d forgottn to put in my contacts and during it vrything was blurry and flashtastic and I couldn t s much of you in th dark xcpt th dark insid of your mouth, opn whn you flt th shock of lov, or prtndd to.
120 // Mississippi Noir Thr s bn so many girls, and thy ar all in som way on girl, tan and sparkl-lashd, lik my sistrs dolls arrayd on th circl carpt, hair strtchd radical to cntr. But you. It was only aftr that I saw th tar in th condom. Which is on m, baby, it is. It always is. Would you bliv m if I said it wasn t lik th othr tims? I swar I didn t fl it rip, didn t fl anything but you, your monumntal fucking bauty and th littl sounds from your throat, and th way your thighs, lik smoothd sticks, hld m so. You wr in th bathroom for so long aftr, and I was glad bcaus my lgs wr still shaking and I didn t want you to s. Th longr I waitd, having slung th split condom from thumb to trash can, I startd to wondr a littl at how quick you had laid down for m. But I swar, girl, gtting you so asy didn t mak m lov you any lss. Just wondr, a littl. It was only whn in th bathroom aftr, th boy bathroom so thick with mildw you could fl it fuzzing your mouth, that I found th pic of latx insid m. My brothr had told m onc, and oldr girls too. Thy always know whn it happns, thy told m, and thy should stop. But it had brokn and part of it was insid m now. Oh no, I cursd myslf. I hav lt myslf b foold and misld. I am such a girl. A wak, wak girl. Excpt still, I didn t know I card, my hands trmbling, shaking with that spckl of powdry latx on my fingrtips. Part of you was insid m now. And you askd m to stay ovr. And you talkd in your slp, your fac in my hair, your hands on my xcitabl hips.
Mgan Abbott // 121 You said I was your country girl vn though I told you I was from Batsvill. I guss you wr still drunk. You cam back from th bathroom, scrubbd and smlling lik our soap-on-a-rop. Your shynss mad my blood hottn again, but I couldn t mak it work, th havy of th brs pinning m down. W slpt. I dramd all night of scaling skyscraprs and sailing th high sas. Of pirat ship masts and spacships. And I was king in all ths worlds. I didn t vn car to find I d slunk so strangly in th bd that my had was rsting against your chst, your tiny tits still in thir bra, m too drunk to flick th hook. Thr would b tim nough. I hav to go, you said, bfor I could. I hav my kitchn shift at six thirty. No, I said, bcaus, look... W walkd along and talkd along Till w cam to lvl ground. Thn I pickd up a hdgwood stick And knockd this fair maid down. Standing in th cold and big kitchn of th Inn at Ol Miss, I could still fl you th whol thr hours. In front of th industrial dishwashr, scooping stuck-corn pudding and biscuit-gravy skim into th disposal trough, I could fl you insid, and slipping from m. Is this th on? I wondrd. Evn as I knw it was. You s, you wr fortold, frat boy. Sun bating down, th railroad fstival in Amory whn I was
122 // Mississippi Noir tn yars old, a man in a shabby hat was giving out fortuns from his slanting card tabl. Stakd btwn th hat-prssd T-shirts and th frozn chscak on a stick, h sat in that folding chair, th littl sign bfor him, corrugatd cardboard, that rad: Fats Disclosd. Paths Fortold. I S You, and All. My brothr was far ahad, wnding through tnts and bouncy castls to catch up with som girls in snug shorts, and I could tll th shabby-hat man had m in his sights. Pointing on horny fingr, h said: I ll tll anyon but yours. You r too prtty to hav your hart brok. That yllowing fingr sming to hypnotiz m closr. Tll it! said a passing lady, larg of body with a hat shapd lik a stam ngin and vil ys. Tll th littl girl! Tll hr what sh must know! And bringing m clos, hand on my arm, th lathr twists of his pinchd fingr skin, th man told. H will com with nctar on his tongu, h said, tars in his ys, I swar. But h will snd your had spinning, sal you up in silvr. Swallow you whol. Standing thr, still in his clutchs, I flt my hart cut loos insid m. Is this to b my fat? Suddnly, my brothr s hand fll fast upon my shouldr, tugging m backward. Don t you know not to talk to th tatty hobos? Quickly, w wr stumbling through th grass of Frisco Park, th sparkl from all th hanging goods, th sparkling purss and glad rags for ladis who d vntur through th fstival, looking for objcts to war to ntic boys and mn. Listn: I told you I had onc bn a bad young man, a fool and coward. And I told you I d changd, and I had. You wr my chang, and I thought about you days and nights, in accounting and businss communication, and porch-drinking at
Mgan Abbott // 123 th hous with Kith and th boys. Just lik a girl, I hld my phon tight, and whn it pulsd with you, it flt lik a church thing. I didn t slp with anyon ls, all thos thr wks. Sh fll upon hr bndd kns; Oh, Willi, sh did cry. Oh, Willi, dar, don t murdr m; I m not prpard to di. And so, Octobr fll to Novmbr and that Friday cam, th on whr I cam to b snaking from your bd at dawn in your XXL shirt, grn as a glow stick, as play slim, as a jllyfish undr a microscop. Did I know that would b th day? No. But I had a spcial stitch of worry ovr my brow anyway. Chcking my undrwar btwn vry class. I was only fiv days lat, but I had not forgottn th latx clot found via my fingrtip thr wks prior, and I could not wait any longr. In our thr wks togthr, you always cam to my room, so I dcidd that night to com to you. I wantd to s your room, and your tits so xtrasoft th night bfor, I got crazy just thinking about thm. Dusk falling, I stppd through th Tara pillars and into Chi O. Your door (spar, unfoild) was opn, but you wrn t thr. Sitting on your bd, I waitd, smlling your powdr-frsh smlls and looking through your undrwar drawrs filld with such non-colord bauty I flt sick from it. Hony and strawbrry buttr, th shts smlld just lik you. You don t rmmbr m, th girl in th doorway said.
124 // Mississippi Noir And I said, Sur I do. Bcaus I did. From th party whr I mt you. And how that puk bib sh wor and hr waknss to drink had takn you away from m. Sh said sh had somthing to show m and outstrtchd hr hand, palm up. At first I thought it was a blowpop stick, or a thrmomtr, its tip blu. But it wasn t ithr. It was scptr. A sword into th cntr of my hart. Bcaus in its littl window thr was a +, lik a tiny blu cross. Sh said you had shown it to hr, confidd. I just thought you should know, th girl said. Bing as you r a good guy. Adding, Sh s my sistr, but sh s a sly kitty. I saw you buy th kit, Brian said, standing outsid th bathroom stall. I saw you today at th Walgrns. Brian always had ys on all sids of hr bobbly had. It s okay, sis, sh said. It s okay. I opnd th door, my your non shirt lik a flag, a flar, staring hr down. That s right, I said, it is okay. Bcaus I m not. Which was a li, at last for now. Mayb I should hav takn th blu stick with m. Hiddn it in th dumpstr bhind th kitchn, somwhr. You could nvr hid things in th hous. Th sistrs wr always watching. But I burid th stick undr all th blistr-foil laxativ strips and sping old tampons in th stall bin. Brian couldn t vr hav found it. Sh wouldn t hav put hr Jackson-girl fingrs into that bin, mingling with all our girl blood and sham. Th Chi O girl wouldn t stop talking to m, saying sh wants hr an Oxford boy or Jackson or Houston oil. Country club golf and
Mgan Abbott // 125 fin china on th Grov, a hous with whit pillars. Non of this had to do with m, my dad in a divorcd-man s condo in Atlanta for work, my mom th pharmacist at Krogr. But th girl kpt talking, and I had to lav, sicknd suddnly by all th uglinss and th girls s pink-paprd doors and swt vanilla smlls that ar mant to kp you thr forvr, to chok you. Th Grov was dark but nck high in girls, all with thir mouths opn, tth glowing. Or so it smd. But I wishd I hadn t startd drinking. If only you d txtd m back right away. I said I ndd to s you. Evn if you wr in som lab, or somthing. But you didn t txt back, at last not right away, and soon I stoppd looking at my phon lik a girl, bcaus I found Kith, staking th spot for tomorrow s gam, and w startd drinking from that bottl of Aristocrat tuckd undr his arm lik a baby doll. W couldn t put up th tnt till nin so w wr tossing thos loos tntpols lik batons, lik girls swinging batons. W wr swinging thm lik basball bats. Th ping of th fibrglass on cmnt, on vrything. Evrything was lik a bright, spangld blur. My blood was pounding. Lik I said, I wishd I hadn t startd drinking right thn. At my dsk, trying for concntration, I wasn t thinking that much about th blu stick xactly, my palm touching onc, twic, my stomach. WHERE R U, your txt said. I txtd you back, but you nvr rplid. This won t happn, I said to myslf, but I wasn t vn sur what it mant.
126 // Mississippi Noir I knw I wouldn t hav that baby. But I wasn t sur th way it would play out. Until you cam calling. Prowling th campus, Kith loud in my ar bsid m, I kpt talking about you. About how I d sn you in church and you wr just lik th country lass nursing th baby calf who was lik my grandma and all good womn vrywhr, and now I d dfild you and myslf in th ys of God and all that. Excpt hadn t sh said it was for th girl to sav us boys? I couldn t mak all th pics fit. Kith would hav non of it anyway, and nvr likd church talk. H shovd m hard and told m to stop bing a pussy. Thn h told m how h saw you snak out of our room that vry morning waring my shirt lik you ownd m, or som such badg of domination. My shirt, I said, bcaus I hadn t ralizd. And that s how I cam to thinking I hadn t dfild you, you had dfild yourslf, your jans off so fast our first dat, and this dawn striding out of my room in my shirt, my own shirt. And for that, you must b taught a lsson. Wll, that is how I thought. But I paid no attntion to th pitous appal, But I bat hr mor and mor, Till all around whr th poor girl lay Was in a bloody gor. I had it in my mind that I would rtriv you and w would walk onc mor in Baily Woods, lik w had that magic night thr wks bfor whn you sald your fat with m, girl. But I had no othr plan, on account of I could barly walk
Mgan Abbott // 127 and had lost Kith som tim ago, lft him in th shadow of Vaught-Hm knocking out parking-lot lights with his tntpol. That last pol h struck, it lookd lik somthing surgd through him. Whn h fll onto th cmnt, his kns knockd togthr, lik a cartoon. On th ground, stuttring, h was a slug-struck bird. So I pushd on. I couldn t rmmbr at first which hous was yours, vn though I d bn thr mr hours bfor. Thy all had whit pillars, you s. But I still had that tntpol, it flt lik a sabr. Show m your blu stick, I ll rais you a sabr. It was so lat. I d falln aslp, my arm still stuck in my phys sci txtbook. You can t hid, you said, standing in my doorway. And I thought it was a jok, you with th tntpol in your hand, th way you graspd it, cavman, club. I didn t tll you no whn you askd m to com with you. But I did not yt know what was in your hart. W didn t walk far, you intnt on mad circls, swinging that tntpol into trash cans, trs, whatvr cam in your way. You said, I know I m drunk, but I wanna show you somthing. And I thought, Is this going to b it? Will this b how it gos? Whn w cam undr on of th strtlamps, you lookd at m, your fac shadowd. You said, Is that my shirt, girl? You wr mor bautiful than vr that night. Your fac angl-lit undr all th strtlamps. That s why it happnd, if you want to know. W trampd across campus, all th sculpturs and status of important mn. You didn t sm afraid of m, dspit all th nois
128 // Mississippi Noir that cam from m, my mouth uncontrollabl, and my arms too. Watching you tak that rrant tntpol from my hand and twirl it lik a baton, lik you wr a twirlr, and wrn t you? Th way you wildd your wapons, aftr all. Blu stick, lov s arrow, that warm spot btwn your lgs. And whr did w nd up anyway, roaming th campus nar and far, th grat bronz hands of th mntor instructing hr flock in th ros gardn? Finally landing back whr w bgan, at th foot of Sorority Row long aftr midnight. All thos whit pillars, thr must v bn a hundrd of thm, all glaming in th moon, and on th pond that lay thr, silvr and shimmry lik a mirror laid flat. Oh God, don t you s I had no choic? Whn I took th pol from you, vrything turnd. But I had to, don t you s? Rturn my sword, girly, you said, your voic gon high and strang. And you yankd it so hard, I fll back. You may ask m how I knw you wr going to rais high that tntpol. But I nvr didn t know. Excpt I do wish I could hav stoppd you. It was th two things at onc, you s. It was you holding th pol and you waring th shirt. You could spin and flip it in ways that smd miraculous. All whil waring my shirt, fluorscnt-grn and too big for you by half, draggd ovr your had lik you ownd it. Or m. Undr th shirt, your blly, th thing insid it wll, I thought of that too. I know you! I said, shouting now. I know your kind! Bcaus you d prtndd to b a country girl who nvr hard a word
Mgan Abbott // 129 of sin, a girl who would mak m mak m bhav. And b good. I nvr mt a country girl, and it turnd out you wr from Batsvill. My, oh, that tntpol in my hand flt lik it swung itslf, swinging with such a whirring sound and th trribl, suctiony thunk as it hit your prtty, prfct had. Oh, my girl, my girl. Th swirl-slap of th alcohol, gallons of it, suddnly clard away, lik th sas parting and rcding lik th old, brightcolord movi I watchd with Gran vry Eastr my whol lif till sh did last yar. I saw it thn. I saw it. Lik vrything ls fll away and you wr praying in church, by th tallst window. Alas, it was now too lat. This is it, I thought. Yt I flt no dangr. High abov your had, that pol glintd undr th strtlamp, swinging it lik a mighty ax, a giant in a fairy tal. I flt a crashing in my brain. I think I saw stars. And I was haring somthing lik bads shaking insid my had, lik in th woods, my brothr showing m how to shak th cocoon w found in th branch. If th catrpillar is aliv, it s havy, you har a thud. If it s dad, it s light, and all you har is a rattl. I wondr what you hard whn you shook m, frat boy. Oxford boy. My blovd. Did you har our baby rattl? Thn I pickd hr up by hr littl whit hand, And I swung hr body around.
130 // Mississippi Noir I took hr down to th rivrsid And thrw hr in to drown. Rmmbr how you fll? Landing on your kns with such an awful smack, th pond lik a black hol bhind you, th black hol sprading in my brain. Oh, how you lookd up at m, your ys shining. Plas don t, you said. But I saw what th pol had don, your tmpl sunk dp as a cav and your y bulging. You didn t know it yt, but you wr narly gon. Your fac, I watchd you watch m, my had spinning so. It was that fac I knw from th twlv tims in your darknd room. Th fac that told m you had big visions of lif in your had, th way you wr shivring, standing abov m, that sam lovly way of shivring you had ach of th twlv tims w did it bfor I did. I don t rmmbr falling, but th rd covrd my ys and I could s nothing. Somon was crying. Thy say th light gos out of th ys whn you pass, but it didn t with Gran at Baptist Mmorial and so not with you, my country girl. I saw th shining as I carrid you from Sorority Row straight to th dg of Silvr Pond. I saw it as I droppd you in th watr, and my sword too, which was nothing but a tntpol, bnt upon itslf. I saw it long aftr you sunk to th shallow bottom, my shirt billowing, a bright lily pad, and your body making ring aftr ring aftr ring.
Mgan Abbott // 131 I wasn t gon yt, but you wr dragging m. Down that grassy slop I wnt, lik a sligh rid, th lavs curling and cutting my lgs. I grabbd at you, clawing at your ankls, nails sunk dp, but you hav nar a hundrd pounds and a foot of monstr blood and bon on m. My hair knottd in your hand, I lookd up at you and my had kpt knock-knock-knocking on th ground, th blood coming wt and soft from th opn hol in my had. H will com with nctar on his tongu. I guss I always knw that shabby-hattd man would prov tru on day. But h will snd your had spinning, sal you up in silvr. Swallow you whol. You wr wll undr. Thr was stirring brifly, glugging bubbls. Onc, your had cam up, your ys glassy, arms grabbing, wanly, th surfac of th watr. Thn your had tilting backward, disapparing. Finally, you stoppd. Thn I wnt hom. But I rolld and I tossd upon my bd, And no rst could I find, For th flams of Hll smd all round m, And in my ys would shin. I did find my bd, my ankls and shins slimd up from th pond, and my fac spckld rd as Raggdy Andy. I showrd at thr, no on hard. Thn back to bd, a hav and horror in m, whr I commncd crying. Bfor that, I d nvr vn noticd Silvr Pond. But th nxt day, and th nxt, Silvr Pond was all I could s, from whrvr I stood.
132 // Mississippi Noir As thr was no scaping it, I sought it out. I vn lingrd at your hous, hand on on of th pillars, lik a wdding cak, wondring, missing you. In th watr, I sunk. I flt th thing blooming at th top of my chst, sprading down and in. Th thing was th darknss of you, and what w shard. My lungs swimming insid m, my hart growing small and raisin-lik, I thought how it cam to b. Might I hav shrunk from my fat? But on can t pondr such things too long. Hr sistr thrw my lif away Without a thought of doubt. Hr sistr swor I was th man Who ld hr sistr out. I might v got caught anyway, but your sistr sald th dal. H saw th stick and thn h lft th hous filld with rag. That s what th Brian girl told th polic, as if sh d playd no part. Thy wr a firy pair, sh said, hr voic xcitd, and now thir fir has swallowd thm both. What did sh know of us, girl? For ours was a tndr thing, dp down. But I would not mind dying If I thought t would bring m rst From this burning, burning, burning hll That kps burning in my brast. Thy talkd about how I smild whn thy put th cuffs on to tak m to county and that s not tru.
Mgan Abbott // 133 But I did tll thm how I picturd you up thr in havn, halo fird up, having swt ta with my grandma. How sh said: A good girl to sav us boys, ach and vry on. Hr coms that grappl hook again, swinging slow for m. I can hid among th floating frns and duckwd. I won t lav until it has m. From hr I can s th whit pillars. My, how thy shin.