Not many came to the funeral. Some said it was because of the time of the year—calving and all. Others recognized that it was because not many really knew Edward Hooper. He would have turned ninety later that summer and the reality was that there just weren’t that many ninety-year-olds around this country any more. It was almost as if he was the last man standing. Maybe he was, in this part of the country anyways. A few of the nieces and nephews from the city came for the funeral—not that the old man would have recognized any of them unless they had introduced themselves, and that certainly wasn’t happening that day. And there were a few Native American riders who had worked for him on and off over the years, especially in the early years when he had more cattle and actually needed cowboys for something other than just company. It was a small group of maybe a dozen or so who congregated on that lonesome knoll to pay their respects and say goodbye to Edward Hooper. And that is why Joel Hooper was making his way on horseback through the lush pasture this beautiful morning—to pay his respects to the man he knew as his father. Their lives together had been both brief and hard. Especially hard. It was difficult for Joel to even see the man as his dad. As Joel rode along the ridges to the corner of the pasture where the family graveyard stood, he knew that he was just as much going there to pay his respects out of his concern as he was for what others would say if he didn’t. The way word traveled in the hills, sooner or later someone would hear that he hadn’t visited his father’s grave. Then what would they think of him? And who were they anyways? Eventually, Joel arrived at the family plot—a small knoll set back in the hills sheltered on the backside by the even higher hills and with an open view to the vast valley floor far below. After dismounting the orange gelding and being unable to find a place to tie the horse, Joel realized that he could simply drop the reins;
“It’s true.” Francisco explained that she had fallen ill while visiting her family in the north. She paid no attention to her illness, and by the time she returned and went to the hospital, it was too late. Ken tore out of the shack and ran to the hospital, Francisco following. If he talked to the doctor, surely he would confirm that Miloo was alive. Someone had made a terrible mistake. The doctor explained that Miloo’s appendix had burst and she had died of acute peritonitis. At that moment, Ken’s world ended. He staggered to his feet and opened the door to the corridor. Francisco was waiting for him. He took a few stumbling steps and a nurse rushed up to him. “You bastard,” she hissed. “You killed her.” Francisco grabbed Ken’s arm and began to push past her. “What do you mean?” Ken asked. “She was pregnant!” Ken’s legs wobbled. He turned, braced himself against the wall and groped his way back to the doctor’s office. “She was pregnant?” he asked. “Yes, she was,” he said. “But in the very early stages of pregnancy.” “How early?” “Perhaps a month.” “Was this the cause of her death?” “Absolutely not.” “How can I be sure of that?” “You can consult any doctor you wish and he will tell you that. Her pregnancy just happened to coincide with this.” The days and nights blended into one another. Ken wouldn’t talk and he couldn’t eat or sit still. He could not bear to be inside his own body – a body with an enormous empty, echoing cavern where a heart used to be. He walked, pacing endlessly up and down the beach, on the village streets, and on the sidewalks of Lisbon. The emptiness of his body lay on him like a massive stone. He could not swallow past the obstruction in his throat. It blocked the emptiness where there used to be a stomach, lungs, kidneys – there was nothing left inside him and since he felt nothing, he thought about ending his own life. One minute he was numb and then a wrenching sadness swept over him, threatening to drown him in its endless ocean. A minute later white-hot
anger engulfed him and flared into a murderous rage. When the stone moved from his throat long enough to let air through, he talked to Francisco but even that led to despair. He knew that nothing Francisco could say could ever bring her back.
He leans closer again and kisses her cheek. She glows all over, being there, next to him, and he stops pestering her about her indiscretion. Their drinks are served and Talal turns closer to Hakim and asks, “You like Helena?” “Of course, Helena is beautiful.” “I know she’s a beautiful girl, Hakim.” They spend a couple of hours at the club. Peter and Rose feel tired and decide to go home. Talal is dancing with Helena. Jennifer has had two drinks and feels a bit tipsy, however Hakim gets her up to dance for the last time before they all go home. She holds him tightly as they dance. Feeling his firmness on her leg, she lifts her head and looks at him, smiling. There are so many people crowded around them; however, she gets gutsy and puts her hand on his pants, slowly rubbing him as they dance. Talal catches them as he turns his head, and he flashes a smile at Hakim. Hakim smiles back at Talal. Hakim asks Jennifer, “Are you ready to go now, my love?” Later on, outside the Double Cherry Club, they all say goodnight to Anthony. They say farewell to each other and walk to their separate cars. Hakim and Jennifer take a short ride around L.A., enjoying the cool September night. She is still a little dizzy when they arrive at his apartment. He helps her walk to the elevator, and she leans on him with the security a child needs from an adult. They go to bed; Jennifer, as she promised earlier in the day, is all over him. Hakim enjoys the attention and they make passionate love. The scare of AIDS fromsome twenty years earlier has somehow been put aside, although a cure still hasn’t been found. Science has produced so many different types of drugs during the past ten years that AIDS is now treatable and many of the afflicted lead fairly normal lives.On the other hand, the younger generation tends to abstain from sleeping around as did in the years before the AIDS, and most practice safe sex.Most young people prefer to have just one girlfriend or boyfriend after their high-school years and later on, many end up marrying. As the night passes slowly Hakim and Jennifer fall asleep. Hakim wakes up first as the light comes through the curtains of the east window; it is a clear day and the sun brightens up the room. He looks at his phone, it’s ten o’clock. He gets up, takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth, and stretches. Hakim looks at Jennifer as she sleeps. He remembers the last drink and smiles at the thought of last night. Her back is uncovered as the comforter is pushed to the side. He marvels at the sensuous way she is spread on the bed in front of him and finds himself excited. He slips into the bed and pulls the covers over them; cuddles close and embraces her. She feels him behind her and moves her torso against his body.
my spice flowers fűszervirágaim I use the spice of your kiss silence melts in the sunset all here is gold and mist
and I feel the warmth of the smoke of existence soundless collision of wild petals we are plucked out from an earthly flower forever now no bad words can reach me no specials but the past stitched its links together I am ready to accept that your silence is your mate
your spice is as a noble moment as a mirth all your wishes are joy and to hate what was left out of the rebirth my kisses won’t stay they whirled the buds of gods encased in ice snap miracles are torn up by the will of the world in the eyes of the night in the shape of the heart’s lap because of your fresh kisses I become a crumb one learns – one’s emotions cut like a blade
I also came for a while to love but I am part of the passing away no longer I have power over your heart
your memory merges into nothing’s space and your present also slips through my rampart
Manolis Aligizakis 