June 24, 2006
Upstate of mind
Woody and I were sitting on the bow of the boat as we arrived at the dock in Hammondsport. His bare feet were propped upon the nose of the boat, covering the green starboard side light. It was a summer night, with sun tanned shoulders, and coors light, and the smell of wood-smoke rolled across the lake from fires burning along the stoney shoreline like sentries, keeping watch on the Lake as she lay peacefully in the bottom of the valley. Above us the constellations were masked in lavender clouds like a Dancer of the Seven Veils, staring elusively down at me. Below me, the dark water sat like ink in a well, waiting for someone to write me a letter to tell me all of their darkest secrets. Behind us were our four parents and my sister laughing in the dark.
We tied the boat off and walked into town. Nick was working behind the bar at Maloney's. He acknowledged his debt to Woody from last year's transaction. { Reference ] By the time we made it to the barstool from the dock, there were 3 whiskys on the rocks, waiting for us as we sat down. With our parent's beside us, the band began to play. People began to dance. The floorboards sighed. Mike Maloney gave Woody and I a shot, and thanked me again for a photograph I had given him of last year's visit. Our mother's sighed.
My blood began to thin to sound of mandolins and accordions. Woody handed his glass to Nick. Nick filled it up again. My father grinned. Woody's mother sat down beside me with a 7-up, and took a little tastes from my shots before the bottoms went up. I turned back and forth on my stool like a buoy bobbing on the lake. I was surrounded by my family and our friends.
Woody was renegotiating muscle fit tees for whisky.
My mother tasted her daughter's whisky. With a deadpan reply, she stated: "That tastes like college."
The fires burned out in the darkness, keeping watch over my night.
The bar lights soaked the air in a warm stain of neon and wood-grain. Outside the open window panes, the darkness cupped its hands around the pub. Inside, the noise clenched it's fist around me, holding us all together on a saturday night in upstate new york.
By the end of the night, our parents had returned to the house on the boat. Woody and Annie were dancing. I stepped out onto the edge of the porch. The stars were still veiled, and looking down at me. The whisky burned and my head felt like it was on a plate. I stood there alone and clenched my thoughts in my fist. I tried to keep my head on my shoulders, and my mind in new york state. I smiled for the closeness of my family. I laughed at the thought of woody stumbling back to the house and entering a heartfelt but slurred discussion with his mother as she cooked us nachos.
I stood on the street and finished my whisky before the stars could lead my mind elsewhere. I clenched my fists. I refused to make eye contact with the sky. I turned and headed back inside, as if secretly seeking cover; as if not to turn my back on what i already have; as if to cup my hands around eyes and forfeit to the distance and space and yearning of the world, and enjoy what is already more than i deserve. i sighed and i walked into bar. Woody handed me a drink. The band started it's second set. I found my little sister and we danced late into the night.