Another ten-hour shift Daisy thought to herself. She pulled a plate out of the dishwasher. They piled in as fast as she could catch them, boring, boring, white dishes. Some had chips, some were stained. The cleaning solution burned Daisy’s eyes.
She’d had plans to see her boyfriend after the shift, but she hardly wanted to. He neglected every need but sex. Sex kept her going, to feel his hatred and release at the same time.
She formed the cliche lines in her mind, it’s my fault. I should know better. Rolling around on the mattress in the mating ritual allowed her to pump it all out.
No matter how many times she tried to push the lies into her mind, they fell like emotional abstractions craving release inside of her.
“I need an order of chicken to go, Daisy,” the manager said. An old woman, past her prime and bleeding for money, made her appearance even duller. She wore the cheap, green uniform and apron, “Welcome to Dil Bo, the Finest Diner this Way.” Amber had the badge of manager, too, she didn’t care anymore. It could have said, “The best Dildos You’ve Ever Had.”
There is a certain point where the human reason falls to animal instincts, to the comforts of the flesh, to the madness of pain, and absolution with a chainsaw with diamonds. Well, Daisy hadn’t gone that far.
Amber called in more orders. The busy place was full of smelly human feces and urine. They put the air conditioning on full blast, but back in the kitchen and out in the main part of the diner, the bodies warmed the area beyond tolerance.
The customers chomped and spit, licked and sucked at food, much like flies. Daisy tried to cut herself off from these thoughts, to keep the peace in her mind.
Daisy got into her car and began the drive home along the ocean. She enjoyed this, her little time to herself before being absorbed into the human world again. She wanted to be free in the ocean forever, to let the creatures spin around, to not know if she’d live or die, but she’d be a part of the place, down there where the sharks swam, down where the mercury-poisoned fish struggled without madness but injury, not sentient. She’d absorb them all and become the ocean.
Grandiose thinking, she told herself. She went in and out of depression and manias, didn’t have the pills to cure her, to make her one of them, the norms. She found humans boring and useless. Humans sleep, fuck, dance, and sing, totally unaware if there’s anything after beyond that.
Sure, Idle children think of the greater worlds in space. Like ice cream melting, this becomes a problem where they look down at the asphalt turning the ice cream to gross blobs of cum to look down on.
Dreams, where did they get anyone? People said they followed their passions, that they believed in themselves, and that they knew they were created for great things.
I’m certainly not a dreamer, Daisy said to herself. I’m a disposable machine eating coins for someone else. I shit them out as fast as they’re put in me.
Have a nice day.
I wonder, she thought, if I should stop for a minute and walk along the ocean.
Daisy exited her car and began to walk toward the water. It seemed strange to her, but the water reached for her, a tempting muse of soft nature, floating ions, fresh air.
I’ll think like a child, she told herself. I’m at the beach and looking up at the stars with my father. They move, and he points them out, the clever celestial sphere.
Our ancestors, he would explain, started their journey by learning from hardship and pain, being lost and found, losing limbs and life.
He’d lost his due to alcohol.
“And now it’s nothing,” Daisy said aloud as she strolled. A man appeared.
“Sorry, miss,” he said. His blue eyes and blonde hair were perfect somehow
along with his tanned body.
“It’s okay,” Daisy said. She gazed out into the ocean, to its awe and yet calmness that day.
“The best jewels are the ones that glitter and aren’t gold.” Then the man met Daisy’s eyes, which were almost yellow and green, an unusual mix, or so people told her.
“I guess. I find the sun turns our eyes into Midas,” Daisy said. She imagined all the gold around the man, all that he touched.
“Do you think the sun makes us blind, to fool’s gold?”
“You’re quite the philosopher. Would you like to have lunch at my beach house?” He inquired.
“Well, I guess when I know your name,” Daisy said.
“It’s Jack.”
“I’m Daisy.”
“Ah, are you a fan of Fitzgerald?” Jack asked. Daisy didn’t know why but she felt warned by the name. She felt she had betrayed her boyfriend. Was he her boyfriend? He treated her like dirt.
I guess I’ve just broken up, she thought.
“So, I own this restaurant here. Where did you say you worked?” Jack asked Daisy after a few sips of premium coffee.
“I didn’t say. I work at the diner. I write poetry for the invisible masses in my spare time.”
“I like your wit,” Jack said. “I’ll be back.”
A few people went into the beach restaurant and property. One guy sat next to Daisy.
“You know, you might want to watch out,” he said, “Jack is not a gentleman.”
“He seems nice enough,” said Daisy.
“How old are you? My name is Mike, by the way.”
“I’m twenty-two.”
“Young and dumb,” he returned.
“Well, thank you for the compliment,” Daisy said.
“I think you’d better follow my advice and leave,” Mike said. His arms were tan
and his eyes shined green with broken vessels.
“Okay, what is he going to do, reject and ground me?” Daisy asked. She moved a strand of her long, blonde hair back. She laughed a bit.
“After he’s through with you, if you’re still alive, you’ll know what I mean. Get out of here, girl,” he said.
Suddenly, Jack appeared with his bright blue eyes and perfect complexion. His arms were tan and rounded with rigids and muscles. His smile with perfect teeth.
“Are you trying to steal my guest, Mike?”
“You know I wouldn’t do that, Jack,” he said back.
“Of course, you wouldn’t. Would you like seconds?” Jack asked. His fingers tamed a curl on the side of his head.
“No thanks, Jack. I don’t need anything sloppy before work.” Mike got up and got onto a four-wheeler where he sped off shaking his head.
“I haven’t had a girl look into my eyes as you did. You seem confident. Would you mind doing a little chore for me?”
“Okay,” said Daisy.
“Can you deliver this letter off to the post office? It’s about a five-minute drive. I’m sure I can trust you. You’re that kind of girl.” He smiled.
Daisy blushed.
The drive to the post office took her thirty minutes. She delivered the letter and returned to the beach house and bar next to it. The atmosphere annoyed her with a screaming sun.
She contemplated the future. I mean, what were the odds that some rich, hot guy would like her. Her mother always told her to bag a good guy as fast as possible.
She walked into the bar and ordered some soda water. It fizzed with bubbles exploding.
Jack came back. This time he was in a suit.
“Ah, you’re back so soon,” he said. “I have another errand, and this will be the last one, promise.”
“Okay,” she said as before.
“I need to make some orders at the hardwood store, just some screws. I’ve probably got enough loose in my head, to be honest with you.”
Daisy went to the hardwood store and ordered the parts. She went back to Jack’s place.
“Daisy, thank you so much. Would you like to go on a drive with me? I know your boyfriend wouldn’t mind,” he said.
“I broke up with him this morning.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
The jeep handled the curving roads professionally. It zigzagged in and out of backroads and highways, inanimate and dead.
“So, what’s a cute girl like you doing breaking up? What are your requirements for a man?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I take people as they come and then go. I guess I like guys who take care of themselves and have ambition.”
“Like a rich guy?”
Suddenly, Daisy felt uneasy.
“You know, I have a house one mile away now. No one is renting it today.”
His house shined with perfect furniture, floors, and accessories. Most of the items appeared to have never been touched. She rubbed the leather sofa.
“If you want a good guy, you gotta bag him,” she heard her mother say. “Don’t have too much virtue or pride. The world is too cruel for such beliefs.”
She walked around and examined the contents in the house in depth. Then she heard a scream from the kitchen and the sound of pans falling.
Was that a woman or an animal screech? Daisy wondered to herself. She moved slowly toward the kitchen.
“If you want a good guy, you gotta bag him.”
“Daisy, can you come here for a minute?” Jack asked.
When she made it to the kitchen, she covered her mouth and froze. A woman lay in a painted floor of blood and knives as brushes. She wanted to run, but her legs failed her, paralyzed, and primitive due to fear.
“You see, Daisy, you are all the same. I take you to see my stuff and then you betray all you love, and it’s your mother’s prying voice nagging at you. Do you even know who Bach is? Augustine? I wish you’d learn more about Darwin, so you would at least see yourself in the mirror as a rodent.”
“I, I. know.”
“Half-witted, I’m sure. “I just look up at the stars, pretty stars, pretty gems. Women...”
“Go ahead and run. No one will believe you, and even if they do, I have connections. Would you like to be the jail bait? Why don’t you calmly, and lady-like, which is impossible, I’m sure. walk out the door and promise to never ever come back. That is, unless you’d like me to clean you up, put you in a nice dress here until my butler comes, whore. Ring around the rosy, ashes full of poesy, Ashes, ashes, we all fall dead.” He laughed.
Daisy walked out of the house on the side of the road. With no shoulder and a crooked road, it was difficult to avoid being roadkill.
