one of the first things she learned:
no talking during the news.
they waited with the remote,
in his hands
and he would tap the armrest and his leg
with it, when things got crazy
at playoff time or sometimes,
the mess with Tiger Woods
he would wave it and point
and she more than once prayed the sony
would not be blown to smithereens.
thank god Hilary was not on the news as much
she said but the girl turned to stir the goop in the little green tray
and her ears were burning so she was not sure if she heard or not
as they so often did now that she was going lighter,
but it was worth it.
around eight forty-five it would fall
just before the news
but if shit had hit the fan
he held it in both hands and kept it aimed right at the red spot
to keep the signal clear, to keep
the connection
to make sure he did not miss a word
which he repeated to her.
if she tried to hold his hand it had to be the left.
if she tried and it was a tornado or
the big kahuna hit honey! (Katrina) or the whole enchilada
just washed away a bunch of vacationers! (the asian tsunami)
he would switch to the chair upsetting
the cat
and Mr. Cat Fur Butt
as she called him in the kitchen watching the kernels spin and stew
melting butter, filling the kibble dish, the his-n-hers bowls his bigger
she heard him laugh then cough
a small and very odd cough
and thought:
maybe it's the big kahuna,
maybe
the whole enchilada this time,
shaking the pan back and forth
back and forth,
slowly he had shown her so it would not burn
and she heard plastic, maybe the metal ticking thing inside
a sort of thump, a sputter
that could have been a fur ball
as what kept them both tethered to the world
hit the floor.
