*

 They sat next to each other at the bar/diner. The seats beneath where of torn-up vinyl. A tangerine muted color from the era before. The man behind the counter paid them no attention, busily flirting with one of the more obvious prostitutes of the area. She sipped her coke, the end of it making that childhood noise of air pockets mixed with little liquid. He slopped up the last of his usual – scrambled eggs with white American cheese melted over the top. Mounted on the ceiling was a tiny television. It used to be Lavern and Shirley, the laughtrack echoing dead in the little building. Now it was the local news. The anchor looking uncomfortable and anal in his little studio. Everything was backward and dry. Outside little wisps of dirt blew, scuffing up the Nova. Making miniscule scratching noises that she thought she could hear even inside the diner because the silence was making her crazy. She looked over at him silently, eating his eggs. He looked up at her with his doe eyes. Sweet and mildly complantive. He dropped his fork and grabbed her hand. He took special pleasure in this, entertaining his fetish of fingers, hers being especially close to him. The buildings quietness became even more noticeable because she had stopped thinking about it. The man behind the counter was still busy. Now hanging over the bar, reaching in his pocket, about to light the prostitute’s cigarette. Though she sat in the wrong section of the diner.
 She tossed the money owed down; it clanged against the pale brown Formica. Her grip tightened on his hand as she lifted herself off of her stool. Subtly telling him that it was time to leave the dead diner.

*

 The trailer was silent, afternoon sunshine drifting in the window above the dinette table. The mismatching chairs all filtering the tiny pieces of dust that floated through the empty space. The rectangular living room contained no furniture. It was covered with a wall to wall black and green spotted carpet. The walls were painted black and had different colored lights hung all over them.
 As you moved father back in the mobile home there was a short hallway. An open-ended room at the finish of it had a dirty mattress in the center. Clothes were strewn across the floor; she had been digging through them in a fury to find it this morning. There were no lights in this room at all, only one small window towards the ceiling. The bathroom stood off of the room with the bed, makeup, toothpaste etc. were covering the sink ledge. The mirror had been smashed at one time or another, and had never been repaired due to lack of care. In one of the other rooms in the hall there sat a sofa. A large window directly over it. Posters completely covered the walls. British punk stars and shock rock Americans stood there and watched you walk through the room. The room that was barely the size of a closet stood open across the hall. Nothing in there but a bare bulb and cabinets full of necessities. The 25-watt swung slightly in the Arizona summer breeze.

*

 Ian opened the door, slamming it on his way in. Mae lay on the floor next to the stereo. Janis Joplin blaring into the bright crisp air. Ian’s chains rattled as he stormed over to the radio and flung the volume control down. Mae just smiled as he stared at her unnaturally twisted body there on the floor.
 “Hey…how you today?” she shook with laughter at her own mistake. Ian was too upset to even notice that she only wore a tank top and panties.
 “Where’s Kline?” he demanded. She laid there, her auburn hair spread out, fanned out around her head. Giggling insanely at his loud voice. He clutched Mae’s wrist, twisting it hard and to the left. Trying to make her return to reality, fruitlessly. He pounded his feet heavily against the floor, towards the large room at the end of the hall. Kline sat on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling, blankly. The odor still lingered in the air. Like a black curse that tickled Ian’s tongue and tantalized his nose. He could feel his heart pound with the mere scent of it. Kline began to roll slowly back and forth. Not seeming to even notice Ian standing above him, fighting his own craving for the warm heavenly liquid. He gathered himself; opened his thin mouth to scream at Kline, to tell him he had broken his promise. At the moment the words were finally formulating in Ian’s throat Kline halfway opened his eyes, to look at him in his blind state. Within those dull pupils he saw the delicious beauty and calm that the needle could bring. From the front room came the gravely voice of blues goddess once again. Ian sat next to Kline, lifted the leather belt to his already severely punctured and vein riddled arm. The fumes evaporating into the air, acrid, were sucked into his cold needle. Janis sang:

 “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to loose…”

*

 Mae sunk into her salmon pink down comforter, her arms tightly wrapped around each other as she mimicked the rocking chair. Holding herself shut, trying not to cry. Her mother could be heard banging pans in the ultra-modern kitchen on the first floor. Mae silently cursed the bitch, cursed herself for her stupidity. Then the dreaded noise came, that one that she had always dreaded as long as she could remember, the sound of her father’s motor. Pulling into the driveway, his expensive Buick made a purring noise before the slam of the car door. Mae awaited the explosion which she was sure was about to happen. Both because of her own mistake and because of her mothers repeated prophecies. And so the frightened tears of a young girl streamed down her face. Up the stairs came the footsteps, perfectly polished black shoes. She hugged herself even tighter, so tight she could barely breathe. In the doorway loomed the dark shadow in the pinstripe suit. He could hear the sobbing that she furtively attempted to control. But this only made his anger increase, what right had she to cry? He was the one who was wronged. He approached her slowly, she was shivering. He stared at the stomach, which housed his bastard grandchild. He imagined it growing and moving within his young daughter’s womb. The mental picture made him ill, he could feel his half-digested steak churning, and making it’s way up his esophagus. He pushed it into its rightful place with the decision to dispense to her the justice she deserved. His usual rule to avoid her pretty face was accidentally broken by his rage. He swung at her jaw. Blood spurted instantaneously from her mouth. It splattered on the white of the wall, abstract art. The force of the punch had flung her to the floor, sprawled there now letting her sobs ring out. He pummeled his flesh and blood with his feet. Kicking her in any place she left exposed, specially aiming for that incubational belly. When he ran out of strength he stopped, as quickly as he had begun.
 “Get dressed, fix your face,” he said breathlessly “ business dinner tonight.” He turned and left the room, reminding himself to make his wife take Mae to the doctor and rectify this problem.
She lay on the floor, her tears in a puddle near her. Her father didn’t know that he had already healed this wound on his perfect life through his justice system.

*

 Mae’s mother banged loudly on the locked bathroom door with its ornate carvings.
 “GeneMaeve, open this door, or I promise you I will have it broken down.” The mother’s booming intonation echoed through the door. Mae couldn’t pay attention to what her mother was threatening as she stared into the toilet bowl. As she tasted the thick stomach acid that coated the back of her throat in a mucus. Floating in the water was a deformed child; a fetus encased in its placental blood. It wasn’t deformed in any real sense of the word, simply undeveloped as of yet. Mae felt it coming again as she dry heaved all over her child. At the door her mother rammed small fists against the hard wood. Vaguely Mae could hear it but was barely conscious. So unconscious that she didn’t even notice the key as it opened the lock, the big brass knob swung quickly and the mother walked in. Still dressed in her evening gown with the sapphire sequins she gasped at the sight of her daughter there on the floor. And then she took her turn holding down her food as she caught sight of the blood and flesh that coated the toilet. There was a moment of sympathy for her only female child. But it was only a moment. She walked over to loom above Mae, to shake her awake from her stupor. 
 “What is all of this?” the mother screamed, slapping Mae across her sore jaw now in an attempt to make her listen. But Mae didn’t move-barely breathed. So her mother physically lifted the small framed girl to her feet and forced her out of the room…

*

 “You will stay here and repent your sins in the eyes of the Lord,” Mae’s mother lit a candle on the small alter. “You will fast until you have learned your lesson.” Mae could feel the dirt and small pebbles digging into her bare knees. She knew this punishment well but with a renewed sense of anger she burst out.
 “It wasn’t my fault, he kicked me and I think that’s why…” she wasn’t able to finish her thought, for her mother grabbed her pale face tight enough to hold her mouth shut.
 “Not your fault!” the anger which rose in her voice was that of a dragon in the clutches of an ambush. “Was it not you who ran about like the whore you are and found yourself impure with child? You got what you deserved, pain and anguish. The Lord killed your baby of the devil, not your father. God knew that it was borne of unwedded consummation and that it could only bring evil into this world, that is why it is dead now.” She spewed forth all of this without stopping for a single breath. Spit rimmed her lips and accentuated her venomous words. “ And if it be anyone’s fault, it is yours.” With that final sentiment she let go of her daughters face and left to lock the room up behind her. Shutting her daughter in the cold basement to pray to the God that killed her unborn child and hated her for her impurity. All of this for forgiveness.

*

 Ian lay on the plush floor, watching her sleep. She looked like an angel lying there. Sweet and dreaming. His hands moved to touch her face. It was soft and radiating vague warmth. In the morning hours before the sun had risen, yet after the moon had set, this was his time to observe. Her dainty fragile hands lay beneath her head, supporting her childlike features. Her hair was spread out across her skin.
 His heart raced, and he knew he had to wake her up. He could feel the power of the entire world within his chest-pounding there. All of the feelings that had been culminating within him for her were raising to the surface and he knew that if he waited to tell her it would be too late, it had to be now. Ian leaned over his precious Mae and placed his lips upon her fluttering eyelid. And there he could feel all of her muscles tense up. The smile overtook his lips quickly at her awakening. His doe eyes let out that twinkle, which was when the fear arose in her heart. Mae pushed herself into a sitting position, his smile imprinted upon her mind as that of bad omen. Ian fell back down to the floor, giddy within himself to the point that he didn’t notice her subtle fear. He let out a small contented laugh as he placed his hands beneath his head. Mae couldn’t stand it any longer. She played her fingers across his bare stomach.
 “Ok, why are you so happy?” she had to smile looking into his bright wide teeth. He paused as if to say something but then opted out. Ian pulled his hands from beneath him now, clutched Mae’s face and brought her close to him, engaging in an open-mouthed smile-kiss. This made even Mae in her fear laugh loudly and writhe back down to lay close to him. “Now you have to tell me what’s wrong with you.” Mae continued playing her long fingers on his naked stomach, tickling him around his extra sensitive belly button.
 “Well my Mae, I have come to a very interesting conclusion,” he turned on his side. He wanted to look into her eyes when he let all his power out of his insides so that it could rain from his eyes into hers and he would be able to see the storm there. Mae was truly intrigued now; she loved their long intellectual conversations and was beginning to think her fear unwarranted. “You have to listen to me though, promise me that you’ll listen?” he suddenly lost his captivating boyish smile and turned slightly somber. This however didn’t make Mae’s fear any worse, for she knew Ian well enough to anticipate his precautions.
 “Yeah, yeah I promise…damnit just tell me!” she half faked her very real frustration with his stalling. He clutched her hand, pressing it hard against him where he was sure she could feel his heart trying to escape from the prison of his chest and be free.
 “Watching you sleep I realized that I’m in love with you.” His smile broadened but quickly left when he saw her face melt. She turned deathly pale and pulled stringently away from him. All her muscles as tight as marble. The confusion raced through Ian’s mind, he had just confessed his love for another human being, had confessed what he always believed could never happen for him to the one person with which it had happened. That same person had yanked herself away as though his entire body was submerged in poison. Mae sat shivering, trying desperately to speak, she needed to get the words out.
 “You don’t love me, you can’t.” she diverted her eyes from his, staring through him at the wall, remembering all her past troubles. Ian’s confusion masked itself in anger. Why won’t she believe me? He thought helplessly, had he done something wrong? Had he worded it badly of picked the wrong moment? Following his instincts he had just done it the way it felt right.
 “Why not? Why can’t I? I do…and I’m not Devonne.” He shouted slightly, his anger and disappointment at her reaction getting the better of him. Mae shook herself out of her memories and back to Ian. Ian whose face was now contorted almost repulsively into the look he made right before he began to cry.
 “Because…” Ian still looked blank “ I don’t need to explain myself to you.” Mae stood up, trying to escape any further questions she headed towards the back closet, Ian following closely at her heels, unsatisfied with her answer. She fished around in one of the shoeboxes at the bottom of the closet, mindlessly looking for it.
 “I understand what happened before but….fuck Mae, I’m being sincere here.” He was more desperate than anything now. Following her to the back room. She sat on the mattress, wishing so badly to be rid of him and his paltry questions. But her own confusion infested her mind and she was unable to think clearly. Ian took her shoulders in both her palms, rocking her shortly back and forth. “Tell me what’s wrong, this is me…Ian. Remember me? I’m the idiot who just told you that he loved you?” Sarcasm mixed with pain and sadness colored his voice. Mae turned to him in a wild anger.
 “You are not an idiot for telling me…you’re just an idiot for not seeing that I feel the same way without me having to spell it out for you.” She screamed and then regretted those words. Her head falling onto his shoulder as the warm salty tears streaked down her face. He smoothed her hair, paternal instinct taking over as he felt his heart leap in him – excitement.
 “Shh…don’t be mad at me,” he moved her face so that he could look into her wide child eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, come on…I’ll fix you up.” Ian wiped the tears from beneath her eyes and licked them off his fingers, smiling. He took her equipment from her, laid her down and began to cook her up a hit. Drown in his own contentment, nursing her back to normal with his kisses and needle.

*

 Theirs was a love of need combined with availability. Mae and Devonne each had their own needs and when, at a party they met, they searched out their individual needs and discovered their availability. Neither of their parents liked the match from day one of the 6-month stint. Both thinking that the other child was a bad influence upon their baby.

 The beach rang out with drunken howls. Rich kids on vacation from their Harvard households whooped it up greatly. The coolers were stocked, the water was warm, and the tiny driftwood bonfires were ablaze. Most distant from the shoreline sat Mae, lying on her beach towel as though she was sunbathing but instead she was showered in stars. Looking down as bright opaque gems in the sky. Mae was lost in her reverie. Other kids ran by screaming in the playful tones you get when simulated freedom is within your power. Mae let her eyes silently close, her mind at peace with itself.
 Cold, wet, slimy fingers on her stomach and she lurched upwards. Fear until she saw the face masked behind the dripping hair. Then she could smile at Devonne’s little surprise game. He crawled up her like a stripper trying to be classfully seductive. His eyes burning until he got close to her face and smiled his perfectly preened grin. Running a hand through his hair and all calm now he looked Mae in the face.
 “Wanna come back to the house with me while I get changed?” he looked serious, but Mae was playing it coy, giving him her best how-dumb-do-you-think-I-am. “I’m only asking cause you said something about getting some CD’s anyway…” Devonne’s voice maintained it’s smooth even tones. Mae changed her mine, you can’t be too hard to get, she thought.
 “Sure I ‘spose.” And placed her long limber legs beneath her just enough to give her the leverage she needed. They set off for the beachouse of their hostess friend.

 “I’ll just be a minute” Devonne called from the bathroom where Mae could hear the rustling of his clothes. She grabbed the some discs and threw them into a bag. She noticed the master bed then, and wondered how it would feel to lie on such and inviting mattress. Her muscles ached from a day of volleyball and her head ached from a night of wine. The bed gave little under her weight and she enjoyed the firm softness.
 “Oh, there you are…” Devonne smiled as he entered the room wearing a tank top and jeans. Impeccable except that his hair was still tousled and dripping. He crossed the room and lay next to her. “Someday my house will be this fine, without any money from my parents,” he looked up at the canopy and his eyes grew bleary with thought. Mae was lost in her own little world of comfort. “I’ll be married, and have beautiful children.” Devonne blurted somewhat disjointedly. Mae only half hearing what he said. Suddenly he snapped back to reality and turned to Mae, forcing her to do the same. “Do you know how beautiful my children will be?” Mae was confused at such an unanswerable question and so said nothing, looking to him to finish his thought. He paused a moment, then leaned a bit closer to her “Do you have a mirror? I can show you…” Mae began to laugh, trying to playfully hit him for being such a tease. But before she could he squelched her small voice with his lips. Killing the thoughts of his being a tease within her. Pulling apart she smiled at him but his face was pure seriousness as he bent to kiss her again…

*

 “It’s fine, Devonne loves kids,” Sherry tried in vain to cheer up Mae who sat in the passenger side of her car, crying. Mae shook her head.
 “This…it messes up all our plans,” Mae wiped tears from her chin. Sherry sat, not speaking for loss of words. “ My parents will be pissed, and who knows about his...” She paused to let out a large sob. “ And…and he can’t finish school without their money…the money.” Mae threw her hands into her lap hitting herself hard. “Christ Sherry…what if…what if he doesn’t love me?” Mae’s body was riddled with deep sobs that she attempted to cease because she half realized how foolish she must look. She turned her face to Sherry now, expectation of what advice she would offer. Sherry didn’t know what to say, she knew Devonne didn’t give a shit about Mae, he was just using his lines on her, using her. Everyone knew that except sweet vulnerable Mae. 
 “Don’t be silly, of course he cares about you,” Sherry possessed no guilt, her future was set and she knew that by becoming involved in this it would only jeopardize her own course of events. “Come on, you just have to tell him…everything will work itself out.” Sherry pulled her car into the large looping drive of Devonne’s parents’ estate.

*

 Devonne moved away from her, pulled away from the information that she had just told him-disgusted. She reached her tender hand out to touch him but he clutched at it and pushed it away from him. She could feel the as of yet undry tears begin to well up again. He couldn’t even look at her, the thought of his mistake making him queasy.
 “What are we going to do?” Mae questioned quietly, afraid of the answer, which mulled over in his head. He turned his cold dark eyes on her, trying to hide his contempt unsuccessfully. 
 “I don’t know, what are you going to do?” the contempt now filling his rock hard voice. He pulled himself up and began pacing, the look on her face making his heart fill with fear and he wanted to run away. Mae felt her life drain away with his words. The tears stopped and she sat in utter disillusionment. Unable to believe that the man whom she had thought was different was now avoiding her every glance.
 “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” anger took over where sadness left off. She wanted so badly to hurt him as much as he had just hurt her. “This is your responsibility as much as mine.” She spat out into his face. He who tried to ignore her. Devonne had gotten more than he had bargained for with this little scam, and he knew that he had to end it before his parents found out and cancelled his schooling money. He grabbed Mae, forcing her to look into his eyes.
 “If you were under the impression that you were something special to me, let me tell you that you weren’t. I’ve been with plenty of girls like you before,” Mae just looked into his face and surpressed an urge to hit him with all of her might. “ And how do I know that you haven’t done the same?” he dismissed her after that little remark, but the solid connection between her fist and the back of his head brought him back into the conversation. Devonne grabbed her once again and then pushed her to the floor with his carefully conditioned strength. “Get rid of it, or keep it, whatever you want, just don’t come back to me when your looking for another loser to fuck and blame.” He turned on his heels and headed towards his game room. Mae sat in a crumpled form on the floor, tenderly massaging her upset stomach.

*

 She was forced to tell her parents after that because she had nowhere else to turn. And that was when her father aborted her short-lived pregnancy. Devonne, upon hearing of Mae’s new found freedom from child called her, wanting to have her back, needing her to reaffirm his good qualities, that was what he missed of her. Her devotion. 

 “Is Mae at home Mrs. Collins?” Devonne used his most polite well-polished voice.
 “Who is this?” Mae’s mother asked suspiciously, there wasn’t a pause before the answer and so she forgot how familiar the voice sounded and was convinced that her memory was slipping.
 “This is Mr. Denbrook, Mae’s counselor from school,” Devonne was very smooth. “I just wanted to ask her some questions concerning a fellow student.” Devonne knew that he had done a good job when he heard the mother calling Mae’s name.
 “Hello?” her voice had lost some of its fight and luster. It seemed dead and dull. Devonne hesitated now, nervous and afraid that the damage of their last conversation couldn’t be repaired.
 “Hi Mae, it’s Devonne” as though she had no idea who it was, he thought in the back of his insecure mind. There was no pause here, and the fight had come back with a vengeance.
 “What the hell do you want?” accusatory and yet frail, he knew she was crying and so grew increasingly sure of himself.
 “Oh come on, I just wanted to see if you wanted to do something. I heard about what happened, I wanted you to know that I’m really sorry for everything, and that I really miss you.” He played on her emotions, what always worked. Mae’s voice echoed with disgust.
 “Why should I care? Call one of your many other girls just like me…” Her sarcasm shot through him and he knew he’d have to dig deeper if he wanted her back.
 “That was low Mae,” Faking hurt “you know that you’re the only one I want, that was all just said in the heat of the moment. You’re the girl I love.” Mae felt her voice crack, her heartbreak simultaneously.
 “Fuck you!” she screamed, her throat choked with tears. “If you loved me so much, you wouldn’t have left me alone!” She knew that she wasn’t hiding her tears very well, but she couldn’t help it, didn’t care.
 “I’m so sorry, I was being stupid. Mae, I miss you…” He felt the excitement of getting to her creep into his voice slightly. Mae held her ground-she could feel her heart trying to jump out of her throat,through the phone to him. Wanting to wrap around him and let no more air within his lungs.
 “You’d just better get used to being alone you dumb bastard.” And with that she slammed the phone onto the receiver and bitterly returned to her room, away from her parents, and away from the questions they would ask her about who was on the phone.
 Devonne sat stunned…and wondered whom else he could call…

*

 And now Mae found herself in the arms of the one who had helped her run away from that house. That prison. Escape the abuse. Escape the god that hated her, and escape the cruelty of Devonne’s ‘love’. Fearful of the love that she herself reciprocated onto Ian now, but there was always the beauty of the heroin. The lush enigma that was her only true friend, but one of many loves.

*

 Kline and Ian were arguing again. Mae sat at the dinette table, distancing herself from the fight with the help of her chalks. Constructing a new attempt at getting excepted into a visual art college that lay nearly 200 miles away from the little trailer.
 “I don’t give a flying fuck what you think, I’m in charge!” Ian could only become this vocal towards Kline. Though Kline had the nasty little habit of bringing it upon himself by way of not listening. Ian was truly exasperated with his younger brother for he was yelling and wildly throwing his arms about. Gestures her only made in times of extreme.
 “Oh, how dumb of me,” Kline hissed with his usual attitude. “You’re in charge, how could I forget; what with you helping me shoot up all the time.” This sent Ian flat; Kline knew his weak spots and knew that he could only achieve the effect he wanted by using that to his advantage.
 “God damnit Kline, you know I never meant to get you messed up in all of this,” Ian sat now, running low on energy. He placed his lowered head between his hands, shaking a little. “All I ask is that you learn how to control it more, you know that you promised you’d stop…” Kline sat defiantly in his chair, wanting so badly to turn this into a fist fight but afraid of his brother’s great height and muscular advantages. So he let his defenses drop, standing up.
 “I’ll stop when you do.” Kline said plainly, he wanted Ian to realize what he was doing to himself, and because he couldn’t seem to see it in a mirror, then maybe he could see it in his little brothers face. Kline went into his room and lay on the couch. Ian ran his hands through his thick black hair, absently feeling the spikes bouncing back into place. He looked at his hands now and saw them trembling, saw how weak and addicted he was. Saw that he was becoming exactly what he had promised himself so many years ago that he never would. His father. He could see his father coming home, and drinking until he couldn’t stand up anymore, beating him with his words and Kline with his fists. Ian could see the reflection of his father in his hands but it looked more alive. Vibrant. He looked up and felt the cool tears searing his warm flesh. A blurred vision of Mae came close to him, knelt before him and stopped the shaking of his hands. Ian blinked away the last of the salt water and stared down into her understanding face.
 “Mae, can you…I mean…talk to him?” he asked in desperation of feeling-he knew that Kline would never listen to him, that he couldn’t find the right words to make him listen before he would just get angry and start shouting again. But Kline held Mae in high esteem. Mae couldn’t answer but instead simply raised herself and made her way down the hallway. Leaving Ian there to wonder about how he got to be his dad.
 Kline lay on the couch, staring up at his ceiling-the sex pistols poster with Sid Viscous. He noticed Mae come in but stubbornly tried not to acknowledge her. She approached him, sat on the floor next to the couch and pushed his flax hair from his eyes.
 “You know he just cares about you…” Mae let the words linger in the air and sink into him completely before going on. “He just wants you to get an education and life outside of the drugs, something he never got.” Kline said nothing, still debating over the first words she had said about Ian caring for him. Mae reached up to touch his forehead again, feeling it with all the care of a mother he barely knew. “Kline?” she searched his eyes for a response. He turned on his side and looked directly at her, burning with questions.
 “Are you gonna marry him?” He asked in the small voice of a fourteen-year-old, a voice she remembered using with she tried to explain away her fault of the dead baby to her mother. Mae forced a smile through the memory and her incandescent blushing, just for Kline.
 “I don’t know, why?” She looked at him; his eyes lost deep inside her own.
 “Cause then, then you’d be kind of like my mom…nevermind” he looked away, his face red with embarrassment at the silly adolescent things he was saying. Mae couldn’t help but feel the sadness and loneliness that radiated from him. She pushed his hair behind his ear for him, leaned close and reassuringly kissed his soft cheek.
 “That’s something that you have to take up with Ian,” Mae touched his head one last time “cause I have no idea.” She turned and left the room, leaving him lost in thought. Thoughts on how it would be to have a family.

*

 Ian touched Mae’s arm, drawing her back into reality. She jumped slightly but then turned to him with a warm smile on her little girl face. He was unaffected by her apparent happiness however, thinking his own thoughts of her sadness, thoughts of how to induce her happiness.
 “Mae, I didn’t…I didn’t mean to hurt you…or…or anything when I told you…umm… how I felt.” Mae could tell by the wavering in his voice that he was having trouble with the words. He searched for a reassurance that only she could provide.
 “It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” she leaned into him “At least now we both know the truth.” Inside she envisioned the face of Devonne, so clear a memory. Hardly clouded by six years time. Shaking herself out of her memories again she giggled. “Did I tell you what Kline asked me the other day?” her infectious smile finally got to him and he looked past her sweet hair and into her face.
 “No, what?” hoping that this anecdote was as humorous as she was playing it up to be, that it wasn’t laughter created by her severe high.
 “He asked me if we were going to get married.” So it proved to not be humorous, but she definitely wasn’t still high, this was a story meant to probe his thoughts on the subject. He knew her better than she thought he did. And because she brought it up, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this one with simple joking laughter.
 “So…what do you think about…about getting married?” he smiled, his boyish smile that made Mae melt in his arms. She looked up at him, lusty and serious at the same time.
 “I think that you’d better kiss me, then maybe I’ll tell you what I think about marriage.” Playfulness tinged her voice as they locked lips. Mae took the chance to nibble slightly on the soft pink flesh of his lower lip. Ian knew that he wasn’t getting an answer to his question when she turned around on him so that they were face to face and buried herself inside of him.

*

 Kline stared at the wall, flinched when the needle entered his arm. Even though he had shot up too many times to count, the rushing onslaught of warmth through his body always made him fall into a lying position, and the pain always cause a moment of adrenaline and fright. He tried to remember when he was younger. There were only a few memories of his parents, the parents that he couldn’t remember. His father had been tall, moustached, and always smelled of sweetly spiced rum. His mother had blonde hair, tied back; she smoked and liked wind chimes. He tried to distinguish between his memories and the horrible stories that Ian had told him. He couldn’t remember them being that horrid of parents. But Ian would never divulge where they were now, and why they weren’t with their children. That was all he had time to think about before his thoughts became one giant mess and he drifted into another world with the fresh heroin racing through his blood.

*

 The rehabilitation program was more than happy to have new patients. And a nine year and six year veteran would be especially good looking when they applied for their state grants next year. Mae and Ian were kept in separate quarters, but on the weekends they were allowed to see each other in the large social room. At first they both looked terrible, both loosing even more weight, looking more like gaunt skeletons then ever. And irritability ravaged through them. Especially after the initial withdrawal symptoms were flushed from their bodies. For a while they weren’t even able to meet due to fighting, and Mae wouldn’t leave her room. She needed to be transferred to the mental hospital annexed to their building for two weeks after she tried to kill herself and another rehab patient. But she was released back into the clinic, and eventually home. When they arrived at the trailer they each had six months of being ‘clean’ under their belts. Mae had finally been accepted to the college for visual arts of New Mexico, scheduled to begin classes there in the following fall term. 

*

 Mae looked deeply into his soul as she lifted the twine up in front of his face- he smiled. She bound his hands together at the top of the bed, immobile now. Her past submissiveness with Devonne only led her to be extra dominant now with her Ian. Her kisses burned his mouth with the flavor of champagne and cigarettes. She worked her way down his addiction-thin body, kissing him between drags of her cigarette, blowing the smoke on his bare flesh making him squirm with ticklish laughter. She put her cigarette out in the ashtray near the bed. Pouring champagne on him and licking it off in odd places. His stomach, his arm, places his couldn’t have reached if he wanted to. She wanted to play with him before she gave him what he so obviously wanted. And her stalling foreplay only made him want it more. 

 They had decided against a marriage, they made their separate vows to each other and left it at that. They promised to be true to their vows, promised it to each other. They figured that they didn’t need anyone to confirm the legality of the bond. If you can’t trust the person that you love, then you shouldn’t get married anyway. Being together was enough for them; being bonded through their own words and promises was enough…

*

 Mae leaned over the toilet, suddenly violently ill. Ian was at work, he had found a job at the local car repair as a mechanic, something that he had begun training for long before his addiction stole his life away. Mae sat on the floor of the bathroom, cold linoleum on her bare legs. She knew that she had to find Kline, but found herself too weak to get off of the floor. So she resorted to screaming his name until she heard him coming down the hall.
 “What…what is it Mae?” he was out of breath, a bit of guilt showed on his face, but she couldn’t concentrate enough to ask him what he had been doing. The pain in her abdomen wouldn’t let her.
 “Do me a favor wouldja?” she tried to look bright and perky, but it was quite obvious to Kline that she couldn’t get off of the floor, she could barely breath right. He nodded his head to her. “I want you to call Ian at work and ask him to come home, I think I’m really sick or something…” Kline didn’t think she was sick or something, he knew it. He knew it by the vomit in the toilet, the blood on the floor, and the sound of repressed pain in her voice.
 “Sure…don’t…don’t try to move, be right back.” He used his small boy energy to run to the neighboring trailer and use their phone. Ian promised that he’d be right there, he could sense the intense fear in Kline’s voice. Ian told him not to let Mae try anything stupid like he knew she would. But Kline was too late, when he got back Mae was sitting on the couch, her breath coming in short gasps, every muscle in her body tensed up to ward off the pain that was causing her to scream at regular intervals, few minutes…

*

 “You’ll be okay m’dear, it’s just a good thing for you that the young gentleman came when he did,” the doctor paused to look at his chart. Mae was slightly disgusted by his complete mistrust in women, but shook it off by reminding herself that he had just saved her life. “I’ll be back with the results of the blood work, but until then I’ll send him in.” His white coat flowed behind him as he exited through the door. Mae looked down at her hands, wondering sadly, hopelessly, what was going to happen. Ian came running into the room, looking out of place in his dirty jumpsuit though showing to Mae like a ray of familiarity in the white of the hospital. He looked beneath the calm of her face and into all of the pent up emotions behind her eyes.
 “Hey,” he forced the smile he knew she needed to see. “I heard, the doctor says that everything is going, going to be okay. That the umm…babies are fine too.” He held her hand between his, concentrating on the slow rhythmic movements of her fingers on his palms. Mae looked up at him, innocently as a little girl who had lost her daddies favorite tools. She could see sadness hidden within his false happiness.
 “Don’t do this, your as disappointed as me, we can’t afford this right now,” she imagined that old fetus and how her father hadn’t been able to afford it in his life. “Neither of us have the time, the strength to deal with this yet.” She sounded frustrated and touchy, afraid of the desertion she was sure would happen, wanting him to tell her what to do. But she knew that he wasn’t a decision-maker. He let his head fall, unnerved by the fact that she could see more than he wanted her too, but not necessarily surprised by it. Falteringly he spoke.
 “Disappointment or not, we can deal with it…we have too,” he still massaged her soft pink fingers. “And…and I know that we, well damnit we can’t not have them.” He looked up for unspoken approval, which she gave readily. She smiled then, just as she knew him he knew her, and how much she really wanted these babies. Ian stood and leaned to kiss her, impassioned with love and the hope of a new beginning.

 The doctor informed them that Mae had suffered damage to her uterus due to a severe rupture that was healed, but the scar tissue caused things to be more painful than they would be in a normal pregnancy. Ian told the doctor of a car accident that she had encountered when she was younger, he had always been better at telling a good lie than Mae had. The doctor reassured them that everything would be fine as long as they kept up their day to day activity. And Mae wasn’t supposed to let any stress settle into her.

*

 Mae awoke to the sound of screaming. Thinking that it was simply Kline disobeying Ian’s curfew again she rolled back onto her 5 month pregnant stomach. Kline had been getting more and more mouthy lately, thinking that he was surely grown up now, being fifteen and all. Mae slid back into her dream world.
 The screaming got louder and she could distinguish her name through the fog of sleep. She got out of bed, attempting to pull her tee shirt over her tummy while rubbing her sleepy eyes. The noises came from the living room, and she padded slowly in that direction. As soon as she neared the end of the hall she could smell it. Panic erupted insider her as she went flailing forward.
 “Mae!!!” Ian was going hoarse now, his voice leaving him, drown within his sobs and absorbed in his shock. He saw her walk through and see that same horrible sight, feel that same indescribable hurt that he had felt only minutes before.
 Kline lay on the floor, stolen school Bunsen burner to his side, the heroin still bubbling above it. His belt wrapped tightly around his left arm, needle still in his right hand. His face open to the ceiling. Pinkish foam rimmed his mouth and flowed down his young face. Eyes open looking nowhere. Ian sat in the fetal position in a darkened corner of the room. Huddled to himself, he had just returned from work and the tears made freshets down his dirt-streaked face. Ian saw his little brother there, no heart to beat, and no dreams to dream. Headstrong he had always been, so much unlike Ian himself but lying there Ian saw the resemblance between them that Mae had always kidded the two about. If only Ian had been home earlier, if only he hadn’t taught Kline to shoot up in the first place. He was lost in his repetitive ‘what-ifs’. Mae herself was crippled by the sight that was before her; she crawled across the floor to Ian, crawling inside his arms so that they were locked together, like the twins that were growing out of their own union.

*

 The funeral was small and the headstone a mere pebble. But they knew that Kline wouldn’t have wanted a big expensive production anyway. Mae cried waterless tears while Ian sat immobile, unable to shake his guilt, unable to forgive himself for what had happened to his sweet brother. Mae could only be so comforting…and her love, no matter how important to him, could never take the place of Kline’s…never.

*

 Ian lifted the belt to his own arm, recreating the scene of Kline’s death. He melted it sufficiently before drawing it into the syringe. Pressing it against his vein until he felt it break the thin flesh that covered it. It released into him at the moment that the gauze curtain of unconscious actions cleared but by the time he realized what he was doing it was too late. He could already feel the liquid flowing all over his entire body. He was barely aware of the blood, which leaked from his arm now as he felt his head increase in weight and all of his muscles give way. He was floating in a place where he could feel no guilt, no pain.
 “Ian!” Mae screamed, dropping the grocery bag from her arms to run to him. “What are you doing?” she shook his eyes open. He smiled up at her angry confused face and saw her angelic beauty. Absently he slid the belt off of his arm and touched her scar tissue. “Did you hear me? What are you doing?” she knew that he wasn’t listening, and the impact of his actions didn’t seem to sink into him.
 “Come on Mae, do this with me…” his voice was always more sure when he wasn’t thinking about making the mistakes. Ian spewed forth a bitter laugh and pulled his sluggish body up using her arm. “ Remember how it feels? There isn’t any pain here…” his words trailed off, as she became lost in her own desire. Looking perplexed she stared into his dilated pupils, pleading with him to stop this. He pushed his hand under her shirt and felt the bulge that was showing quite readily now. “Don’t worry…one time…no pain…” His voice touched her inside her soul, made her remember how it was without pain. She missed Kline unbelievably, and she felt her pain times one hundred when she looked into her Ian’s face. She could feel it radiating off of his body, leaking through his every pore. And so she compromised everything that she believed in, her will giving way to his eyes…

*

 “Push, come on.” Those words rang out through the delivery room as Mae’s body jilted with pain, pain caused by the babies trying to break through her and causing intense pressure on the scar within her uterus. She let out a scream like that unheard of other than in childbirth. Piercing Ian’s fragile eardrums as he sat next to her, holding her hand while repeating his love and adoration of her into her own ears. Suddenly the doctor’s face paled as the first of the pair spurted from between her legs. Ian was all excitement and giddiness until the doctor turned to him, looking burdened.
 “What…what’s wrong?” Ian sputtered, afraid suddenly between Mae’s languishing and the doctor’s long face. The doctor handed the baby to the nurse, never crying. Ian leaned over Mae “I’ll be right back, don’t…don’t worry.” He pecked her on the cheek and ran over to the doctor’s side, looking grave.
 “I’m sorry son, but the baby was stillborn.” Ian’s severe lack of education and eloquent ways couldn’t protect him from the meaning of stillborn. “And I’m of the opinion that the mother isn’t going to make it,” Ian felt his heart fall from his chest simply by the casual way the doctor had informed him of the possible death of his love. “Now rest assured that we’re going to do everything possible, but we have to get the other baby out before anything else can happen.” The doctor turned quickly away, not wanting to see the mixture of sadness and loss that was intermingled in Ian’s expression. He slowly made his way back to his Mae, touching her cheek. She opened her eyes to look up at him, to smile at his unconventionally beautiful face. Mae could feel herself slipping further and further into an inevitable death, but she wanted to be strong, especially now. She wanted to have Ian be able to remember her full of vibrant strength. He looked blankly down at her, her face glittering with perspiration. He smoothed her sweat-plastered hair away from her bright childish face before he bent down and longingly kissed her sweet open mouth.
 “I’m so sorry my Mae,” his voice was small and on the verge of crazy. “I’m so very sorry…I…I…I’ll always love you.” He bent to kiss her again, making this one last and trying to warm her already chilling lips. Mae couldn’t find her voice, it was lost somewhere within her and so she nodded, and drew her lips into a smile. Ian began to sing to his precious Mae.

  I’d trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
  To be holding Bobby’s body next to mine.
  Freedom’s just another word, for nothing left to loose.
  Nothing, don’t mean nothing Hun if it ain’t free, yeah
  Feeling good was easy while Bobby sang the blues
  Ya know feeling good was good enough for me, uh-huh
  Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.
 

 Ian Loved his daughter, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever known, more beautiful than Mae, more beautiful than Kline. More beautiful than a sunset, or a natural miracle. He named her Eve, and he spent every moment that could possibly be spared from his life to make her life perfect. And, when she grew old enough to wonder where her mother was he didn’t lie to her and tell her that she was in heaven with angels. Ian sat his little girl upon the couch in the back room that he had converted into her gameroom and told her this:
 “Your mommy, well…your mommy loved you so much that she had to die in order to give you life. And, and she left me here to watch you and…and make sure that you know how much she loved you.” The surety in his voice was getting better by the day. Eve looked up at her dad, her eyes bright, wide, blue like her mother’s. 
 “Does my mommy know me?” She was so innocent, and it would have been easy for him to take the easy way and tell her little lies, but he knew that that wasn’t right.
 “Your mommy is inside you a little more everyday my little Eve,” he picked her up, drew her close to him and made his best mischievous face “I can see her in your eyes right now” and with that Ian laid his Eve down and furiously began tickling her. Sending her into convulsions of laughter. She loved going into the cemetery each week, and setting up the flowers on her mommy and her uncle’s graves. Ian made sure that she knew everything, and she grew up to be an artist, a feminist with enough self-sufficiency to take on any chauvinist, and a devoted, loyal person. Ian loved his beautiful little Eve…their beautiful little daughter. And so did Mae…..