Tiny Nightmares: Very Short Tales of Horror by Lincoln Michel & Nadxieli Nieto

Author:Lincoln Michel & Nadxieli Nieto [Michel, Lincoln & Nieto, Nadxieli]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948226622
Publisher: Catapult
Published: 2020-07-27T00:00:00+00:00

Car­bon Foot­print

SHELLY ORIA

Some­times you gotta risk your life to sur­vive, Jack says and shrugs. He means we need to keep tak­ing the sub­way: hope for the best, take pre­cau­tions. We’re no car own­ers, and with the mar­ket sky­rock­et­ing like it has, that’s not chang­ing any­time soon. We can’t af­ford cabs, ei­ther, which have got­ten much pricier these last few weeks. He’s not wrong, my hus­band. I touch the bone at the top of his shoul­der, then slide my fin­gers half­way to his neck. It’s a beau­ti­ful man­bone, one that ex­udes power. It’s got a name, that bone. I stayed in school long enough to know what I don’t know.

My hus­band flexes his mus­cles at the touch of my hand. It’s what men do: you touch their shoul­der bone, they show you strength. There’s plenty of ways to ma­nip­u­late the man you love, and most of them you learn by watch­ing. Over­all you could say watch­ing is the sort of thing I’ve done too much of in my life. I started early, too. First time I saw a man’s chest harden at judg­ment I don’t think I was twelve, even. And then I saw that same man’s chest buckle at the soft sound of a com­pli­ment, and I learned that all can hap­pen in the span of a mo­ment if the woman’s a good twister of words, a good singer of their mu­sic. Jacks, I say, baby. I sigh, a whis­per of air. I’m not brave like you.

My hus­band feels guilty when I say these words; I can see the color of blame in his eyes. He wishes his sched­ule al­lowed him to walk me to the sub­way when­ever I left our apart­ment. And in his wish­ing he imag­ines me a more pow­er­ful woman than I am. Your spine is made of lit­tle eyes and ears, baby, he tells me. When­ever I open the fridge for a beer, you yell from the bed­room. “Easy on the fizz, Jacks.” A Pusher try to make a move on you on the plat­form? Next thing, we’re at his fu­neral, of­fer­ing con­do­lences to his mama.

I say this to Betty Boop the next day on the phone, I say maybe Jack’s right, maybe I’ve been more scared than I need to be. I say, It’s true that I got bet­ter in­stincts than most. Betty says it ain’t right.

Betty and I have been friends since the first nurs­ing home we both worked at, and the thing about spend­ing your days with old peo­ple is you get in the habit of say­ing ex­actly what you think. As your man he should make sure you buddy up when he’s not around, she says. Bud­dy­ing up is what’s con­sid­ered safe now, ever since Push­ers started pop­ping up, shov­ing or kick­ing peo­ple in front of trains. They be­lieve they’re sav­ing the planet, ac­cord­ing to most ru­mors, but I don’t see how that can be right. I buddy up with you, I tell Betty Boop. When you do it’s no thanks to him, she says.

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