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Show Woodworth/209 She turns again, to a rough circle of crumbs that roll towards her on the mattress. She must get up soon. Soon, but not yet. Bernie, Ruth, Ned, Gary, Megan, Rachael. All of them will roll towards her, knock her down, lie on top of her, against her, until she can't move, can't move, can't mov£. Present, or future. But what comes to mind is grapes, round, plump, purple grapes in California, under a sky whispered by clouds, burn red bandanas and beach-brown faces, chattering and picking bunches of grapes, filling wicker baskets, until the sky is stained purple as the creases in her palms. She moves her head to a fresh place on the pillow, and feels a dampness behind the pillow case. This is where Gary was sleeping. He must have drooled on the pillow. Stay with plans, and details. Shopping to be done. Help Ruth with dinner- Picture the train coming in, Megan hanging out a window, waving and waving, her face cracked into prisms of excitement. She stands between her parents, the platform pocked with light. They stand in the dark skin of the shadows, elbows linked. The ta-ain is black, spits sparks, wheezes and sighs powerfully. She feels Gary's hands against her back, her waist. Don't move, or Horn and Dad will turn their heads, notice them. They all watch l^egan, leaning and waving. A fear pokes at her. f^egan won't notice the platform beams, will lean out, and be cut in half. But she.seems to pass through the beams, and come towards them, towards them. Gary's hands have snuck inside her thighs and she stands perfectly still until the train has pulled through the station, and Megan is waving back at them. Good-bye, good-bye. Her face is still glittering. Marty breaks from them all, Ned and Ruth and Gary, and runs towards the retreating train. Runs, further and further into sleep. |