solitary bees, 64
The woman sitting in front of them looks back over her shoulder.
You’re lucky.
Karen takes a while to realize she is talking to her.
How’s that?
You’re lucky.
She motions in the direction Jeremy has gone.
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solitary bees, 63
Tell me about your vacation?
They are at a ball game in a neighboring town.
I think you’ve had first hand access to it.
No. That’s not what I mean. The one you didn’t go on.
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solitary bees, 62
She throws something at him.
He wakes up.
What?
Have you read the princess and the pea?
Yeah. A long time ago.
What did you think about it?
The obvious, I guess.
Don’t say anything sexist.
What did you think about it, other than being taken care of?
Something she couldn’t ignore but something she didn’t feel comfortable about. Something she wanted to have control over or desensitize herself to. Numb the awareness of.
Are you cold? Do you have enough blankets?
That’s exactly the type of thing I’m talking about; but I’m fine actually. Plenty warm up here. A princess on one mattress.
A while later he is snoring.
solitary bees, 61
What’s that sound?
What?
What’s that sound?
I didn’t hear it. I was asleep.
Listen.
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solitary bees, 60
I need you to scratch my back.
Anything else?
Why don’t you just take care of that.
solitary bees, 59
I want a massage. I want you to rub my feet. I want you to paint my nails. I want you to make me something to eat. I want you to draw me a bath. I want you to find something pretty you think I might like, something I’ve never thought of before. If I’ve thought of it before there will be other tasks I require of you until you find something for me beautiful that I could never imagine. After that I want a soda, in a nice tall glass with lots of ice…. Are you sure you’re awake?
Silence.
You aren’t even listening to me.
She farts.
Solitary Bees, 58
When we get this puzzle done, I’m free to go?
He nods.
Are you sure you’ve thought about it?
He nods.
All the way through?
Of course I have.
I don’t think you’ve prepared yourself for what’s going to happen.
solitary bees, 57
I want you to brush my teeth. After that, I want you to shave my legs. And under my arms. If it tickles me, I don’t want you to stop. I want you to smile but not respond to me…. Are you awake?
Yes.
Did you hear what I said?
Sort of.
Go and get my toothbrush.
solitary bees, 56
What’s the square root of three?
I have no idea. That’s not my kind of intelligence.
Mine either.
Solitary Bees, 55
Do you want to go into town?
What would we do that for?
Change of pace. I could show you around.
Believe me, I’ve seen it.
But this would be a new context. I could show you my old stomping grounds, where I grew up and stuff.
Why don’t we go somewhere else. Besides, someone might see us.
What do you want to see? Where do you want to go?
Anywhere but here for now.
solitary bees, 54
Did you spend much time at this place when you were a kid?
The occasional Sunday meal and a couple weeks one summer when my parents were out of town.
How’d that go?
I don’t know. My grandfather was pretty gruff and I was a pretty sensitive boy.
The story of your life. The name of your novel.
I don’t understand.
A pretty, sensitive boy.
solitary bees, 53
I want to take a walk. By myself.
Do you think that’s a good idea?
What kind of question is that?
Will you come back?
Isn’t that the point?
That you’ll come back?
That you’ll find out.
solitary bees, 52
Is there anything you want me to get you that isn’t in the suitcases?
If there was, do you think I’d tell you?
solitary bees, 51
It is darker now. The light is on on the night stand beside her. She is scraping the last of vanilla ice cream from a bowl. There is a raspberry left in there she picks out and plops into her mouth.
You know, I’ve been trying to think if I remember seeing you come into the shop or even around town.
He has his hands on the arms of his chair and has been staring straight ahead. He looks over at her.
I mean, I keep racking my brain trying to think of when I might have seen you. Surely an individual as fucked up as you would have made a greater impression on me. But nothing. Blank slate. It’s like you must have been invisible.
He gets up and walks over to her. He holds out his hand.
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solitary bees, 50
He washes the dishes downstairs in the kitchen. The steam clouds around him. When he turns off the water it is really quiet in the house. He dries his hands and walks up the stairs to check on her. She is sitting up in bed, her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. When he turns around, the floor creaks. She looks up to see him walking away from her. She wipes at the tears on her cheek and says mostly to herself, I was serious about that dessert.
solitary bees, 49
While she is eating, he sits on the floor in the hall and reads from the book he was going to share with her. He reads quietly, mouthing the words to himself. She eats hungrily. The door is open. The light is on on the night stand next to her. She makes a lot of noise with her utensils.
I sing the song of myself, she says as loudly as she can. What a load of shit.
He closes the book between his hands, leans his head against the wall, closes his eyes. She throws a plate through the door at him.
I’m ready for my dessert now!
solitary bees, 48
I want to read some things to you that are important to me.
She has her arms crossed, looking out the window.
Is that okay?
She looks back toward him reluctantly.
You’ve got yourself a captive audience. I don’t see how it matters what sort of permission I give you.
Not true, he says quietly.
You’re quite the gentleman.
Maybe this isn’t the time for this.
He puts a book he has been holding into his pocket.
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solitary bees, 47
You know where I live, obviously.
Actually I don’t. I only know where you worked.
I still work there.
It came out wrong.
What did you mean then?
I mean I just knew you from there. Saw you there. Overheard your vacation plans.
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solitary bees, 46
Tell me something about yourself I didn’t know.
Something dramatic?
Something…. anything. Tell me something.
Can I make it up?
No. But that would tell me something about you anyway.
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solitary bees, 45
How do you feel about music in movies?
I guess I don’t like it when the music has lyrics; that seems like it should be against the rules; like it’s cheating somehow.
Musicals?
The hills are alive with the sound of music.
Isn’t it fields?
I don’t think so.
Either way, it sucks.
solitary bees, 44
Do you mind if I ask a question?
They are working on the puzzle.
Not at all.
This is going to sound vicious but there’s no other way to say it.
Go ahead.
He sits back.
What’s wrong with you?
He squinches his face. Pinches his nose.
I mean, it’s always an accumulation, isn’t it? Plus the biology of the thing.
He picks up a puzzle piece, holds it between thumb and finger, and slowly turns it back and forth.
I mean, on the other hand, I think it’s fairly obvious, isn’t it? I thought it would be simple for you to see who I am and then decide.
Couldn’t you just have come up to me at the store and asked me out on a date?
This may sound ridiculous but I had no earthly idea how to do that.
This seemed like the simple way?
Yes.
He sets the piece down without a place for it.
Yes. That’s exactly how I operate. This is who I am.
She puts a piece in place.
I think you could be a little quicker about this. You always pick up a piece and look at it without trying anything.
Always?
Always.
She fits another piece.
Well, I guess you’ve got me figured.
Finally.
solitary bees, 43
She sits, arms folded, looking out the window.
I want steak. I want candles. I want flowers.
She never looks at him.
I’ll get them for you.
A thousand other things you fucking asshole.
She scrunches her fists in the blanket. Screams.
You fucking mother fucking dimwitted fucking simpleton piece of shit.
She crosses her arms and looks out the window.
I wish I had access to your brain.
You do.
He backs out of the room.
As he walks down the stairs he can hear her scream.
solitary bees, 42
For a man who’s such a chicken shit you sure do take a lot of risks.
He puts his hands in his pockets and looks at the ceiling.
What’s a matter? You can’t take it?
That’s not the way my mind works is all. I never saw this as a risk.
He looks at his feet.
You’re severely lacking fundamentally. Either take me back into that room and fuck me or let me go.
He looks at her.
She spits at him and walks back down the hall.
solitary bees, 42
She talks to him through the door.
There’s a lot of traffic here for such a rural area.
Yeah. I’m beginning to notice that.
Does it trouble you?
How so?
I mean in the obvious way. What if someone finds out?
About our situation?
Obviously.
I guess that depends on how you feel about it.
The toilet flushes and he doesn’t hear what she says.
What’s that?
The door opens and she stands there, a hand on the edge of the door, looking up at him.
solitary bees, 41
How are you feeling?
Better. She smiles, swiping a strand away from her face. What makes you ask?
Simple thoughtfulness.
That’s an interesting way of putting it. I need to use the bathroom.
She kicks beneath the blanket.
Okay.
He lifts the blanket at the bottom of the bed and works at the ropes. She pulls her legs up and sits with her arms around her knees.
He looks at her.
Well?
Oh. Sorry.
Turn around.
He does.
She gets out of bed, naked from the waist, and walks behind him to the hallway.
He waits outside the door after she goes in.
