Flesh and Bone Read Online Free PDF

hand on my face.
    â€œDo you not want to?” she asks.
    I want to, but I don’t want to push it. Mina laughs.
    â€œYou Americans,” she says. “So shy.”
    We go to the bathroom. A boy stands at the sink smoking a bowl of weed. The thick smell hangs like a ghost clinging to the glass of the mirrors.
    Mina takes me to a stall. She takes me in her mouth. I jerk and sweat and when it’s over I hang my head. Mina laughs.
    â€œCan we dance now?” she asks.
    Maybe now I can move with a little rhythm. Maybe now I can feel the music in my spine. There’s nothing I can’t do now.

Pain
    â€œL ET ME TELL you about pain,” Mom says. “You know nothing about pain.”
    Blisters mar her swollen feet, white and pus filled, red around the edges where her shoes rub.
    â€œI’m on my feet all night bringing food to truckers and their whores,” she says. “I never get to sit down.”
    She soaks her feet in water warm as fresh blood. Cigarette smoke rises from her lips and covers her face.
    â€œI make shit,” she says. “Truckers don’t tip if you don’t fuck them.”
    I wonder if she’s fucking a trucker on the side. She could be. I don’t want to think too much about it.
    â€œThe cooks,” she says. “They’re always yelling and throwing things. There’s no call for that.”
    I smoke a cigarette and watch her sitting on the couch, the television mumbling in the corner. She leans her head back. Today’s her day off. Later she’ll go down to the bar and drink a few whiskeys. She’ll flirt with the drunks there, but that’s all she does. She never brings them home. I don’t know if she goes places with them, if she’s fuckingmen I don’t know. I do know that she’s tired all of the time and losing weight. I know that I can’t tell her things anymore. She worries and frets and makes herself sick. I keep my secrets and she keeps hers. Silence stands between us, a layer of cotton around something brittle and breakable.

The Dance
    M OM TAKES THE night off so she can drive Mina and me to the dance. She dresses up in a skirt and blouse. Nothing too fancy, but Mom never wears a skirt.
    Mina lives with the Moons and the Moons live in a big house on the edge of town, right by the golf course. The Moons have money. He’s a lawyer and she sells real estate.
    â€œYou have the corsage?” Mom asks.
    â€œI have it.”
    â€œDon’t crush the petals.”
    Her nerves are starting to grate on me.
    â€œI’ll sit in the bar while you two eat,” Mom says.
    â€œOkay.”
    We get to the Moons and I sit in the car for a minute. My belly tells me to run. I have the corsage, but I’m afraid of pinning it to Mina’s dress. I could prick her or slip and grope a boob. I need steady hands and my hands are anything but steady.
    â€œYou going in?” Mom asks.
    â€œI’m going.”
    The door is thick and wood and glass and I can see people moving around on the other side. Mrs. Moon answers when I use the bell. She opens the door and smiles and says my name.
    â€œWelcome,” she says.
    In the living room, Mina stands with Renee. Renee is the Moons’ daughter. Both of them wear long dresses and have done their hair and makeup. I don’t fit here. This isn’t right, but there’s no running away. Renee’s date stands near the fireplace, looking like he’s tired of waiting. Mrs. Moon takes photos of the four of us and photos of me pinning the corsage to Mina’s dress. My hands work fine. I neither prick nor grope.
    â€œYou ready?” Mina asks.
    â€œNot really.”
    She smiles and takes my hand.
    Mom drives us to the restaurant. She says nothing the whole way. Silence and sweat make the trip a misery.
    â€œYou eating with us?” Mina asks my mom.
    â€œNot tonight, hon.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Mina glows. We sit. We eat. No one