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kevin sampsell : “today’s events”
I’m at my son’s lacrosse practice. It’s on a big soccer field and the sun beats down. I’m watching from a distance, under a tree, in the shade. I didn’t bring a lawn chair, so I sit uncomfortably on the grass. The kids are grouped into teams and my son plays in one scrimmage, about thirty yards to my right. They wear helmets but no pads. My son stands in the middle of the field as the other kids race around him trying to cradle the orange ball. His holds his stick high in the air, like he’s waiting for a pass.
I call him over after the other team scores a goal. I tell him to get more involved, to chase after the ball, play defense.
He goes back and starts paying more attention. His defense is aggressive. He stick-checks a player from the other team and the ball bounces loose. The kid seems surprised, calls out to him, “This is just a friendly game!”
After the practice, I wait in the shade as my son gets a drink of water. There is a crow nearby, standing alone. I look at him and say out loud, “Crow.” I stare at him for a while expecting something from him. I’m not sure what. Perhaps I want him to say, “Human.”
‘slurpee’
We go to 7-11 to get a money order and an after-practice Slurpee. I start to pull into a parking spot, but there is a truck with its driver’s door open. I wait for the person to notice but they’re too busy doing something. I want to honk but instead I move my car slightly to the left, barely fitting into the space. I look over and see that the woman in the truck is leaning over and looking for something in the glove box of the truck. Her knees are on the driver’s seat and she is wearing a short skirt. I can see almost her entire ass. It doesn’t look like she is wearing any underwear. I can’t tell how old she is. She could be sixteen or she could be forty. There is a yellow and blue bruise just below her left ass cheek. I look in my backseat and see my son playing his Gameboy, oblivious to the woman. We go inside and I feed money into the money order machine. $189.75. My son is helping himself at the Slurpee machine.
The woman comes into the store, walking with heavy steps. Her face looks haggard and she is wearing cheap-looking rings on her hands. Her face is much older than her body. I see her buy something in a box but I can’t tell what it is. Cat food or cereal maybe.
When my son and I leave the store, I see the woman sitting in her truck. She’s looking around nervously. We get in the car and my son holds the Slurpee to his head. I have to go back into the store to borrow a pen for my money order. I write out the info on my money order as the clerk watches me. When I go back outside, I see the woman yelling something and hitting her steering wheel.
‘dinner’
At home, I get ready to make dinner. I turn on the oven and spread frozen French fries onto a cooking sheet. When I open the oven door, I notice the smell of throw up. I wonder if someone threw up in the oven. I imagine what it would be like to throw up in the oven.
The air outside is cooling down as the sun lowers. It’s still too hot though.
I spread the French fries so they’re not touching, like the instructions say. I open the door to the oven. It makes a loud creaking noise. I throw up in the oven.
Kevin Sampsell lives in Portland, Oregon, & runs Future Tense Books, a micropress that started in 1990. He is the author of Beautiful Blemish (Word Riot) & Creamy Bullets (Chiasmus Press). His commentaries on books & writers have appeared in numerous newspapers around the country.
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{ issue two |
