Double Crests

I was sitting in my room with Maggie and we were smoking from my ‘silly little vaporizer’ (her words). Her hair was on my shoulder. I thought her hair should be on her shoulder.

“Where would you like to live?”
“I don’t know. I used to think I’d get out of here as soon as I could. I mean I thought I’d do it right away. I mean I mean I knew I was going to do it right away. But it’s scary. So I’m here. I’m here because everything’s scary and this is the least scary option, in an immediate way. Getting a job is so easy here.”

Maggie nodded but looked a bit sad. I told her art communities were better elsewhere and that would be a good reason to move because I’m never going to make it here.

“Good point,” she said. “What about the internet though? Aren’t you on the internet.”
“That’s a pretty funny question.”
“I know.”
“Yes, I’m totally on the internet… but i’m not like big big. You know?”
“I know.”

Maggie nodded again and I kissed her ear. She scrunched up her eyelids like that guy from twin peaks who’s also the detective in barfly. The guy with the mustache who discovers Laura palmer. Lara palmer. Lawra palmer. Whatever. My knee hurts.

“Maggie, I want to kiss you forever.”

Maggie smiled.

“Lee I want to kiss you forever.”
“Maggie I want to kiss your ear forever.”

The record stopped spinning and the stupid autoreturn took the needle away. It made a clunk.

“Twin peaks sucked because they told us who the killer was. I never want to know.”
“That’s why I stopped after the first season.”
“You’re so smart.”

I never know what to say when people call me smart, or anything nice, you know?

“I’d be that guy on twin peaks who starts crying when he’s got to take a picture of the body. He’s gotta do it but he just starts crying, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry’”
“‘This always happens,’ the other guy says.”

Maggie laughed.

“Maggie, do you maybe want to move to someplace else.”
“Like one of those places with an art scene?”
“Yeah.”
“With you?”
“Yeah, ok. I mean. We could move to the same place. That would be cool.”
“But if we lived together that would save things.”
“Yeah. like money.”
“But i want to fuck other people.”
“Yeah. obviously. I don’t want to be married.”
“Thanks, Lee. OK. I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah? Thanks.”
“No, I’ll do it.”

Maggie kissed me. I like when she kisses me. While she’s kissing me, I think about when Leland finds out about Laura being dead on twin peaks and he drops the phone. He was talking to his wife on the phone about Laura and then she knows. I think it would be awful to have someone die. I hope Maggie doesn’t die. I hope I never have to find out about Maggie dying. I would take a lot of deep breaths. I would remain calm. I wouldn’t scream in despair. But letting out grief is very important. I might die soon because I would be keeping it bottled in. It would eat me up. I would die soon. I would probably feel relieved. I don’t think I would just scream and get it over with and everything would be alright. I would smack a juke box.

“I want to kiss you forever, Maggie.”
“I want to kiss your nose, Lee.”

Maggie kissed my nose. We sucked on the vaporizer. I don’t want to drink. Drinking’s not good. Pot brings oblivion too, but it’s not as bad. I mean. I don’t do dumb things. Except buying books on the internet. I do that a lot. But if I’m with Maggie I’m too distracted to buy things off of the internet. Kissing Maggie is better than buying things off of the internet. I buy things when I’m sad. Books I’ll never read. And video games that take too many hours to play, I will never be able to play them. I should write. Maggie is kissing my lips. I should think about Maggie. We kiss for a long time. I stop thinking about writing for a bit but then I start thinking about it again. And Maggie looks at me, stopped kissing me.

“Is everything alright?”
“Yes. Distracted.”
“Cool. That’s OK. What are you thinking about?”
“Words.”
“Can you write me some words?”
“OK. What kind of words?”
“Write me a poem.”
“I’ll write it about trees or something.”
“Trees. Trees. Trees.”

Maggie’s nails are longish. Mine are really short. Mine are always really short. Her nails scratched my neck. Gently. It felt like an electric shock, but sharper, less bright, and ticklier. I shivered. Maggie grinned.

“When do we get on a plane and go somewhere?”
“I don’t know, soon? I have money. I have money enough. I keep fucking working.”
“What, uh… where do you think we should go? Montreal?”
“Sure. I like Montreal.”
“I’ve never been. That’s really weird. I should have been some time. But i haven’t been. But yeah, “I’ll go. It’s good, right?”
“Yes, Maggie. It’s super good. I think you’d like it.”
“We’d better go then.”

Maggie kissed my eyelids. I took off her shirt and kissed her neck and all over and we had sex and she got really sleepy and we both were happy and we fell asleep ‘for a little while’ which ended up being an hour and a half and when we woke up I was so hungry.

“I have to go to work soon. What are you going to do tonight?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have to do anything. I’m alright. Well, I’m going to sleep tonight.”
“Oof. I should sleep too. I should go to bed after work. I never do. I always stay up all night. I forget very often.”
“I know. I wish you could sleep better. What helps?”
“I don’t know. sometimes I know, but often I don’t know.”
“Sleep’s important.”
“I know. How would you feel about fucking Kyle MacLaughlin?”
“Pretty good. You?”
“Yup. I think it would be good. If we get the chance.”
“Yup. Aren’t you going to be late for work?”
“Yup.”

I was almost late for work. Well, I was. The clocks run fast, so I was ‘late’ without actually being late. No one ever comments. That’s OK. I’m late for everything. I feel bad about it. But it’s not an issue unless it’s work. But unless I’m really late it’s not an issue there either. At work (it’s busy, but then for a while not busy, and I drink a lot of soda water in the back) I think a lot about Maggie. About how nice she is. I like the things we say together. It’s really weird that we just met. Well, I knew about her for a while, but it never occurred to me to meet her. I mean. We can’t control everything. I can’t find out what’s going on ever. There are so many people around. It’s overwhelming. I have a little patch of eczema on my hand. The back of my hand. Stress. But also winter. It’s winter time.

About Theodore Fox

Theodore Fox lives in Edmonton. He can be found on Tumblr and Twitter. More of his writing can be read here.

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