Houseboats & Cancer
I am hanging out with these guys over at this house. It's mid afternoon, and it feels like the SouthWest, what with the dust motes in the sunbeams, and the way the sunshine is hitting the polished wood around me. I am up in this room with who I assume is my boyfriend, and we're beginning to have sex. We get interrupted by his dad, who doesn't leave like a normal person, but just stares at us disapprovingly until we stop & get dressed.
I can hear a baby crying. It's insistent, and it sounds like it's very upset. As the fog of sleep parts, I think that it may be SiskaC. I listen intently, and indeed, it is my cat meowing frantically. It subsides, and I call her to bed. She comes, and I hold her & pet her for awhile, and have troubles falling back asleep.
Now I'm visiting N. She is living in a houseboat, and wants to show me what it's like. It's large for a one room place, but seems too small of a place to live. A huge white bed dominates the room, and racks & sliding mesh drawers occupy most of the rest of of the space. Spices & foodstuffs fill most of the drawers, and I notice the clevenerness of the design to keep everything from falling out. The windows surround us, and they go all the way past the floor, and curl underneath the bed a bit. The sea is uneasy outside, and I watch it through the glass. Little drops of water are beading against the glass, dark blue, as though someone has dropped food colouring into the sea. She has a cat, and I am petting it. As the sea lurches violently, the kitten is tossed around a bit, and I pet it to help it feel safer. It has a massive lump on its neck, and she tells me that it has cancer. She says that both of the cats do. She points out a second kitten, that's fast asleep in a tiny, but deep basket. She has put a layer of cooked green fettuccini underneath it - I'm not sure if it's for the cat to eat, or to lie on, and I don't ask. She shows me how its paws are kind of curled over each other, and says that it's protecting its cancer. On the bottom of one of its front paws is a sizeable tumor, and indeed, the cat is kind of hiding it from view with its paw. She tells me that she thinks that they picked it up from her friend's cat. She says that it can be passed along through just touching them, and I swiftly withdraw my hands. I ask if I should undress & wash my clothes/body before I touch my own cat, and she gives me a list of things to wash with the sterilize myself, and my clothing. The only thing that stays with me is olive oil, and while I ponder what that would do to my clothes, we leave.
Now, I am with a young man that I am dating. He's good looking in a very swarthy way, with eyes that I fall into as we talk. We're both smiling a lot, and I tell him about N's houseboat. He tells me that he lives on a houseboat too, and pulls me towards the entrance of it. We walk inside, and I am shocked to see how large it is. I go into what I think is a closet, but as I turn to keep exploring, they encourage me to go back into it. I move two brooms out of the way, and walk down the hallway, squealing in delight as I see bedrooms raised up higher than the hallways. Everything has hardwood floor, and is gleaming. There is a definite Victorian style to the houseboat, (but I also have a similar feeling as to when I would be in the basement in my Abby house.) I am yelling at the top of my lungs about how awesome the place is, as I round a corner, and completely startle a man sitting & reading a book. There are shelves from floor to ceiling, and they're packed with books. He's reading a paperback, and looks up at me with interest. I say "You must be his father" and extend my hand while dropping to my knees and apologizing for all the noise. We shake hands, and hug, and he starts showing me around the place, totally delighted. His mother shows me how to posture myself in case of the boat sinking, and we practice a few times... squatting, and then pointing our hands straight up like we'll be diving into the sky. I ask if it counterracts the pressure that occurs when the boat pulls itself into the water, and she sort of half agrees, and half disagrees, but doesn't explain her reasoning to me in the end. I tell them about my sister, and how she wants to buy a barge, and have a communal living situation with punks. I imagine greasy, dirty punks, in little rooms, and it feels like Mad Max to me no matter how I try & envision it.
I can hear a baby crying. It's insistent, and it sounds like it's very upset. As the fog of sleep parts, I think that it may be SiskaC. I listen intently, and indeed, it is my cat meowing frantically. It subsides, and I call her to bed. She comes, and I hold her & pet her for awhile, and have troubles falling back asleep.
Now I'm visiting N. She is living in a houseboat, and wants to show me what it's like. It's large for a one room place, but seems too small of a place to live. A huge white bed dominates the room, and racks & sliding mesh drawers occupy most of the rest of of the space. Spices & foodstuffs fill most of the drawers, and I notice the clevenerness of the design to keep everything from falling out. The windows surround us, and they go all the way past the floor, and curl underneath the bed a bit. The sea is uneasy outside, and I watch it through the glass. Little drops of water are beading against the glass, dark blue, as though someone has dropped food colouring into the sea. She has a cat, and I am petting it. As the sea lurches violently, the kitten is tossed around a bit, and I pet it to help it feel safer. It has a massive lump on its neck, and she tells me that it has cancer. She says that both of the cats do. She points out a second kitten, that's fast asleep in a tiny, but deep basket. She has put a layer of cooked green fettuccini underneath it - I'm not sure if it's for the cat to eat, or to lie on, and I don't ask. She shows me how its paws are kind of curled over each other, and says that it's protecting its cancer. On the bottom of one of its front paws is a sizeable tumor, and indeed, the cat is kind of hiding it from view with its paw. She tells me that she thinks that they picked it up from her friend's cat. She says that it can be passed along through just touching them, and I swiftly withdraw my hands. I ask if I should undress & wash my clothes/body before I touch my own cat, and she gives me a list of things to wash with the sterilize myself, and my clothing. The only thing that stays with me is olive oil, and while I ponder what that would do to my clothes, we leave.
Now, I am with a young man that I am dating. He's good looking in a very swarthy way, with eyes that I fall into as we talk. We're both smiling a lot, and I tell him about N's houseboat. He tells me that he lives on a houseboat too, and pulls me towards the entrance of it. We walk inside, and I am shocked to see how large it is. I go into what I think is a closet, but as I turn to keep exploring, they encourage me to go back into it. I move two brooms out of the way, and walk down the hallway, squealing in delight as I see bedrooms raised up higher than the hallways. Everything has hardwood floor, and is gleaming. There is a definite Victorian style to the houseboat, (but I also have a similar feeling as to when I would be in the basement in my Abby house.) I am yelling at the top of my lungs about how awesome the place is, as I round a corner, and completely startle a man sitting & reading a book. There are shelves from floor to ceiling, and they're packed with books. He's reading a paperback, and looks up at me with interest. I say "You must be his father" and extend my hand while dropping to my knees and apologizing for all the noise. We shake hands, and hug, and he starts showing me around the place, totally delighted. His mother shows me how to posture myself in case of the boat sinking, and we practice a few times... squatting, and then pointing our hands straight up like we'll be diving into the sky. I ask if it counterracts the pressure that occurs when the boat pulls itself into the water, and she sort of half agrees, and half disagrees, but doesn't explain her reasoning to me in the end. I tell them about my sister, and how she wants to buy a barge, and have a communal living situation with punks. I imagine greasy, dirty punks, in little rooms, and it feels like Mad Max to me no matter how I try & envision it.
posted by AJ at 11:30 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home