by Gabrielle Barnes
the pink popsicle matched her dirty pink dress she wore to bed the night before & the one before that. her mom didn’t do laundry for her, only for money as a maid. her brother was just behind her in a neon blue shirt that covered his pudgy belly, as his nails full of dirty sand scratched mosquito bites. his little glasses didn’t cover the emptiness in his 6-year-old eyes. pupils full of disappointment. he smiled, like the kid in jerry mcguire everyone loved. they were out looking for love. you could feel it in the way they hugged you for a second too long. how they wanted to show off their toddler flamed walmart bicycles. how he said his favorite animal was a wolf & asked if i liked them too. he hoped i did. i asked him to howl like one. i was barefoot, stepped away in the dark humid street in my bright pink neon blue mismatched bikini to get away from the marlboro red smoke that dusted my nostrils. marco would lie & chain smoke them in the garage, with the bottom latch opened to try cover it up with the summer fog. he told me not to talk to serenity or jessie too much. they won’t leave you alone if you show them an ounce of attention, they’re the stray dogs of peach street, he said. i could feel his marlboro lies seeping into my swelling lungs. my asthma would come on soon from the party on carolina beach last night, from the lack of sleep & the mushroom laughing & the mezcal fighting but mostly from the rug at the foot of his bed covered in sand & dirt & ash. i liked it this way. feeling broken down, like nothing mattered– hopeful in a way– like starting over. a town full of emptiness. of locals who never got out & shiny tourists & drifter motels & meth addicts like serenity & jessie’s parents. those bright disney colors flooded the town despite the gray toothed people. i yelled like a wolf back at jessie. like a stray. it was serenity’s turn but she closed her eyes. scared to try. to look like she cared. in case she might be bad at it. worried she’d be made fun of like she was at school. but mostly scared of what sound may come out if she let herself feel. like the nights she hides under her pillows. loud-tear-soaked nights no one knew about. she looked back at me with her eight-year-old-dimples & blonde scratchy hair & sass to hide the sadness. i knew it all too well. i said serenity you can do it. yell at the moon with us. & so she let out a slow howl. her eyes closed & squinted. like she was staring into that glitter sun this morning swimming alone– a lost mermaid in the blue waters. jessie always watched her from the burning shore. we stood in a circle now, with all our bikes dashed to the side. as we howled howled howled at the moon together. a couple of strays. a pack. with our dirty pink popsicle tongues. all in neon blue & bright pink & bloody bare feet under those manic disney lights in a nowhere city. we held hands under red ashy skies. when i left the next morning, it was just before dawn. i walked into the garage, where serenity sat holding marco’s pack of reds & a piece of paper. where’s jessie? sleepin. where’s your boyfriend? ex-boyfriend. she handed me the paper– two wolves with blonde hair. all it said was love in big letters. as i drove off, i watched her ride her bike full of flames in my rearview mirror. as fast as she could.like she was getting away too. as i turned off peach street, i watched as her panic pale tears got smaller & smaller, rolling down under those one dollar sunglasses i got her at the sea witch grocery. where i got our dirty pink popsicles. i could hear distant howls chasing after me. i poked my head out, our blonde strayed hair sparkling in that glitter sun as i yelled out love in big letters.
