Settlement

Tacklebox

In the dream I am standing on a marble pillar surrounded by dark water. I speak magic words and creatures conjure from the deep. They come to me jumping, seals and dolphins, porpoise various breaching the glass deck. 

Though the water is dark I am not afraid. I say the words and the animals pass under my hands. I do not know what animal will next emerge but I know that they will keep coming and I know that they will all be good. 

I awake before dawn and walk to work. I pass the carwash, the Youth Center. A Haitian couple selling pitbull puppies out of a stroller. 

One for fifty or two for eighty, he says. These the ones here you want. Niggas got garbage down the way. 

The moon is still high in the sky. Stars on final in a green belt. It rains for several minutes, stops. 

I go to work and cook food. Turn eggs in a pan. I see people through a window. They know me. I know them. They are surprised to see me in the kitchen. 

You used to be out here, they say. Now you’re in there. You used to be in one place, now you’re in another. How funny that is. What a funny thing. 

Two police from Iowa say hello. They are always saying hello. Sometimes I see them out serving summons. They say hello then too. 

They are tall and thin, fathers. Proud of their children. They tell me to change their names if I use them in a story.

Sure, I say. Of course I will.

But that isn’t true. I won’t change the names. I’ll never change any of them.

To be in one place, then be in another. To go away and come back. To sit against the same walls, walk the same sprawl of ground. To know bears and mountains, sharks and blue water.

I leave work and walk down the avenue. A woman tells me she skipped breakfast because she’s going to the beach. I get a ride home in a hearse.