Art Is Everything by Yxta Maya Murray

Author:Yxta Maya Murray [Murray, Yxta Maya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Northwestern University Press

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What I did do was look at my phone. I did that for about one year.

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September 19, 2018, 3:45 a.m. PST

Good day! Your Lyft driver of 9/18/2018, 10:45 p.m. PST has sent you the following message!

Amanda, this is Mitch your driver from last nite. I hope you are alright. I have your sweater and will bring it to you. I didn’t get your apartment number so please reply with your address.

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“Hey, Siri, apparently I’ve got it all, but I think I lost it somewhere, so find it for me.”

Checking my sources. OK, I found this on the web for ‘I’ve Got It All.’ Take a look:

It was mid-November ’18, eight and a half weeks after Craig mauled me in the Lyft. Brandon and I sat in my studio’s dining room/foyer. We hunkered at my particle-board dining table, which was covered with a red Guatemalan weaving that I’d embroidered with portraits of Hillary Clinton alternately laughing and screaming. Brandon wore a blue-and-white striped shirt and black jeans. His long, bare feet had wrinkly soles, like butterscotch brownies. While I chattered to my phone, he had placed his laptop on the table and opened its screen to a complicated-looking page.

“I need you to concentrate on what I’m trying to tell you,” he said.

I held the phone up to him. “These algorithms are spooky, man, look at the weird stuff Siri sent me.” My screen showed an image of a brunette woman in a multihued dress sitting on the ground. She parted her legs, amassing a big pile of glittery coins and paper bills around her crotch. She appeared to be either ejecting bank out of her birth canal or stuffing her life savings into her vagina.

“That’s super cool, right?” I said.

“Can you stop messing with that for a second?” Brandon had texted me obsessively about legal research all night long and the shadows under his eyes were reaching peak inkiness. “I’m showing you the California Code. Your case is getting weaker by the second—but if you report now we might still be able to get this, misdemeanor sexual battery. Most likely with no jail time. The law gives you a year to complain before the statute of limitations kicks in, and I’ll be your witness. So he’ll probably get convicted. He’ll have to pay a fine of . . .” Brandon squinted at the screen. “$2,000.”

My head jerked back. “$2,000?”

“If he qualifies as your boss, it could be $3,000.”

“What’s the extra thousand for?”

Brandon’s eyebags glimmered at me. “The abuse of power.”

My iPhone, in its bumpy black case, looked like a grenade. I tried to twiddle it between my fingers, but just dropped it. “Such a bargain.”

“Yeah, but he’d be registered as a sex offender.” Brandon pointed at his screen. “His employers would see it on the web. Women would see it. It’d be a way of you getting control of this situation.”

I placed my ring finger on my left eyelid, my thumb on the right eyelid, and mushed them down until I saw double.

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