Not Here but Now
- Jun 16, 2023
- 2 min read
by Sean Ennis
These wrens were building a nest above where our cat sleeps at night. To call someone a bird brain is a real insult. So, I placed a small mirror in the nest to give them the shock and fear of self-recognition, aka eisoptrophobia.
Some people have ideas about me that are completely wrong. I love that. I don’t care that much about money. I like helping people, and I can be good at it. Yes, one of the methods is to present people with a mirror. This is not mansplaining.
Charlotte was always getting stoned and calling her ex, who was me. I’d answer the phone, though I had no interest in a rekindling. Our history together was typical — what began as charming became repugnant. Her affection for me was maniacal. She also stole $3,500 from my personal savings intended for lasik eye surgery.
Ever since that haunted phase of my marriage where my wife and I swapped stories about past relationships, Grace was obsessed with this missing money. In her mind, we were always about three thousand dollars short of our financial goals.
“You loved her,” Grace says. And I say, “If this is love, then that wasn’t.”
She cried. I cried. We went to The Graduate for appetizers and Saint Anthony’s Brick Oven for entrees.
The next Wednesday, I was home from work for lunch and I was surprised to find Grace, undressed and in the bed.
“Take me,” she said. “I’m a wounded stegosaur and you are the mighty Tyrannosaurus rex.”
She never talked like this. I was still wearing my lanyard with my key card, shocked and intrigued.
Charlotte had had a different body type, a different personality, different strengths and weaknesses, different aesthetics, no discernible politics, different turn-ons. For instance, along with the phone calls, she would send pictures. Not selfies, though I think that was the point. Someone else was capturing her at mundane tasks, brushing her teeth, tying a trash bag. Plus, they were not beautiful pictures. I hadn’t seen her otherwise in twenty years.
I am not mocking Charlotte. In fact, I’m not mocking anyone.
For the sake of some privacy, which I do deserve, I won’t say what Charlotte and I discussed. Grace knows.
And every Wednesday at lunchtime for about six weeks, Grace greeted me in the nude and talking deranged.
“I’m an imprisoned space princess and I crave freedom!” she said. “I’m your high school sweetheart, Rosie Rottencrotch!”
I was enthused, but only neutral on the chit chat.
Of course, when I look in the mirror I see a man with no friends. It may or may not be true.
Sean Ennis is the author of Cunning, Baffling, Powerful (Thirty West). He lives in Mississippi and more of his work can be found at seanennis.net
