"An Underhand Serve in a Game of Singles," a short story by JoAnn LoSavio

                It felt like there had to be more to say. Yet, deep as Katie reached into herself she pulled out nothing but scrapings. “I’m glad it seems like everything is working out for you,” she said to Pete, the cheeriest smile she had hooked into place on her face.

            “Yeah, no, it is,” he said through his own plastered grin. Bland as her offering was, he accepted it. Neutrality, plain and inoffensive, was better than most people could hope for in this kind of situation. “It’s all working out, the job, the house, life… and stuff.” Pete cleared his throat and gestured to a stack of flattened cardboard boxes he had just brought in from the garage. “Yeah, so I got you some more boxes for your stuff. I mean, I know you brought your own, but just in case you need more.” Pete turned away from her, and started making one up for her. “No hurry, I mean. I’m not trying to kick you out or anything.”

            “Yeah, I know,” Katie said. “Thanks for helping me pack.”

            “Yeah, no, thank you for coming by to do it.”

            “Thanks for being available.”

            That was all that was left between them: a volley of thanks and gratitude, tossed across an invisible net, between lines drawn in the sand. Everything else was out of bounds. They were playing an easy game, a fair game, but Katie felt Pete wasn’t playing to win any more. Really though, she knew she couldn’t expect that he would. It had been a few months now since those two words had been uttered. She had said it first, but he agreed. It was a tie by mutual agreement, and the match, as it were, was over.

            Now Katie was here, in the space that had been their home, come to pick up her half of their split winnings. They had agreed they weren’t both losers; they were both winners even though neither of them would walk away with a trophy. Actually, Katie thought, neither of us had wanted it. The formerly pale circle around her fourth finger had darkened and the skin there was now indistinguishable from the skin around it.

            “So, shall we begin?” Katie asked. She referred to the piles of their stuff scattered all over the living room. There were clothes, towels, plates, DVDs, CDs, a few vases and the Christmas decorations. Pete had unloaded the material culture of their relationship onto the living room floor.

            “Yeah, I guess.” Pete sat himself on the floor, opposite Katie and waited for her to begin. Katie wasn’t sure how to. She thought she had made the first serve. She had said the two words, those long few months ago. The ball was now in Pete’s court. She stared him evenly in the eyes and did not move.

            “So how about the Christmas stuff?” she finally asked.

            “Wow, straight for the big one, huh? How many Christmases have we had?” Katie didn’t answer, so Pete went on. “Why don’t we divvy up the photographs first, and get that out of the way?” Pete’s backhand was an ace.

            “Okay,” Katie smiled and let out a short sigh between her teeth. “Why not? Let’s do it.”

            “You keep the ones with your friends in them, and I keep those with mine,” Pete suggested.

            “And the ones with both of our friends?” There were many of those. Pete and Katie stared at each other without blinking. Finally, Pete said, “Let’s set those aside for now.”

            “Fine,” Katie said, not feeling fine. She pointed to the other albums. “What about the ones with both of us in them?” There were lots of those too.

            “Well, you know I could just scan them in and we both could have copies of everything.”

            “Yeah, fine,” she said. “That sounds good.” This time, it did feel fine.

            Katie felt compelled to look at the photos, now that it was decided that neither of them would have to sacrifice the physical ownership of their memories. The photo album on the very top of the stack was their oldest. As she peeled it open the plastic sealant crackled. Pete said nothing, but leant forward to look, as if he wanted a reminder of what its contents were.

            “Hey, remember this one?” Katie asked. She held up the first page of the album. It was their first trip to Vegas. The very first vacation they had taken together, for the wedding of one of Pete’s college friends. The photo was of the four of them, two couples: one pair on the way into matrimony and the other, Pete and Katie, on the way into monogamy.

            “Wow, will you look at us then?” Pete said. In the photo Katie’s hair was pixie cut, wild and tipped with bright red. Pete looked up at her. That girl was gone; now Katie had long hair, parted down the center and brown. She had it tied up into a utile pony-tail. “That was a good trip, right?”

            Right? Katie thought. Had Pete forgotten how many times he’d told everyone the story of how she lost one heel at the taco place and walked back five, ten, fifteen – crazy dozens – of blocks back to the strip? Katie tried to search Pete’s eyes for the answer to his own question, but he had lowered his gaze back down to the photograph. He had forgotten that she had not enjoyed it quite as much as he had.

            “You know what?” he said, snapping his fingers. Pete had moved onto another topic. “So, Dan and Rachel are getting divorced.” The other couple in the photo.

            “Wow,” Katie breathed out a whistle. “Didn’t see that coming. What happened?”

            “Don’t really know yet, but I hear that they can’t even be in the same room together.” Pete laughed as though somehow Dana and Rachel’s marital dissolution were the most priceless joke ever. “Glad we’re not like that, right?”

            Another request for affirmation. Katie had a feeling Pete had begun to play another game, one she did not really feel like playing. She didn’t want to answer, one way or the other. Who was she to say whether Dan and Rachel’s passion – even in rupture of their union – was any better than the insipid politeness of theirs?

            Yet, Katie found herself speaking. Yeah, definitely,” she said, her voice light and clear. It didn’t sound like hers, but the words were coming out of her mouth. “Can’t imagine us screaming at each other like that. So not like us.” Then, her voice still detached from herself, Katie laughed, not feeling the hilarity.

            She envied Dan and Rachel their passion. She suspected their exchanges had an effusive ardor, agonizing and exhausting though they probably were. She and Pete had none of that left; their romance had been aborted with the utterances of two short words. Dan and Rachel had begun theirs that weekend in Vegas with two other short words, declared willingly, lovingly. Two other short words that Katie and Pete would never say to one another now.

            Katie sighed, thinking that perhaps she was not being fully fair. There had been other two-word declarations she and Pete had made. Her mind drifted away from the present involuntarily and the memory of those two-word volleys came unbidden. Love you. Love you. Come over. Stay over. We’re together. Be mine. I’m yours. Move in. I’m pregnant. Not now. Yes, now. Okay, now. I’m ready. Marry me. I will. You’re sure? Completely sure. Not ready. Okay, ready. Maybe wrong. Maybe right. I’m confused. You’re confused? Again, this. Yes, this. Why this? Hear me. Hear yourself. No more. I’m done. It’s done. It’s gone. Start again. Just us. I’m ready. I can. We can. I’m here. You’re gone. I’m done. I’m gone. No more. It’s over.

            Sadly Katie realized that through their entire relationship they had lobbed half-hearted, two-word serves back and forth. Had they always been so laconic? She was suddenly conscious that her answer to that question had been reduced to a single word: yes.

            “Yeah, bet they just let everything fly,” Pete went on, oblivious to the lifetime that had unraveled in Katie’s mind. “It’s gotta be hell to be in that room, man.”

            Katie didn’t know if she agreed with him, so she let the conversation lapse into silence as she retreated into the comfort of renewing her acquaintance with things they once owned. After a moment’s silence, Pete said, “Wonder what they fight about. I mean, what it was that made them split, y’know.”

            “I don’t know,” she said.

            “Yeah, but hey, you knew Rachel pretty well. What do you think it was?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Pete said, not having heard what Katie said. “I mean, who knows why love dies, right? I mean, it’s different for everyone, right?”

            Katie said nothing, but flipped another page. He still wasn’t listening, and there were no more points to be gained from speaking.

            “I think it’s different for everyone.” Pete said.

            Katie put down the album and looked at Pete. She was right. There was a new game Pete wanted to play, and the quivering expression on his face showed her he was hovering on the edge of inviting her. She didn’t want to play. It’s over, she had said three months ago. It seemed to her now that he had not really heard her – then or now, or perhaps, ever.

            “So when are you actually moving?” Pete asked her, edging closer to making an invitation. “Getting a truck, or what?”

            Katie didn’t want to be rude. “Yeah, a truck. I’m going to load it all up and just drive there at the end of the month.”

            “Wow, that’s pretty soon, huh?” Today was the twentieth. “You doing it all by yourself?”

            There it was. The question. The invitation. He asked it in a roundabout way, but the name of the new game was clear. He might have been more direct about it, she thought. Who are you going to be with? He might have asked that instead. Or, more plainly: who are you fucking now?

            “Yeah, I know, it’s only about a week away. I have so much to do until then,” Katie said. There were no more points to score. She didn’t want to play and she had run out of words to say. She declined his invitation with an apologetic smile and walked off the court.

After Ten Minutes the Noise Had Stopped -- Rhonda D.

The rain began with a trickle or so it seemed, because in a moment the clouds heavy and dark let loose bulleting droplets of steamy water onto the people and they were wet and angry and looking for relief in the streets. It is innate, the opposition of wills and the friction of egos rubbing violently to eliminate the other. Pain, sadness, anger, sorrow, they know no bounds and thrive in the heart of human beings. Waiting outside of her house his heart flailed in rapid beats and his chest responded in kind squeezing tightly to suffocate the pounding. And his thoughts ferociously nagged at him and he was not in control of his own self. In the infuriating heat of his own body, his arms drenched with sweat, he began to mumble out loud. He cursed his own existence and then cursed hers and then cursed her new lover’s. The car grew more suffocating as the rain blanketed it and he sat there across the street under that big oak waiting for a glimpse of her. He wanted to feel like he was a part of a scene from her life again, a life that he once lived in cozy co-existence with hers. He mumbled to himself, you are a damn fool, you never were good enough for her nor could you satisfy her. You were never man enough for her.

There they came into his view, running through the wetness, elated and overjoyed to be together. Even as the rain grew wild and streaks of light in the sky seemed perilously close. Even as the darkening night vocalized and screamed out in loud thunderous roars that seemed way out of control, there they danced and fell upon each other laughing as they slipped in the grass, and finally made it up the steps to her townhouse porch.

And so his heart was as the thunder’s, and he desired to lash out at the lovers and in that moment he felt compelled. In that instance he pushed himself from his enclosure, ran wildly through the rain and grabbed her precious lover, snatched him and fell upon him in the rain. Her screams and pleadings of mercy only fed his envious heart. In delight the night fell even darker and hid his deed as he pulled his knife from his pocket. In rage he sought to stamp out his pain. He pushed forward deeper and deeper with every plunge and as he rolled in blood he was cleansed, cleansed of all the hurt and pain of a lifetime. His demons bled out before him and he was healed and satiated. And the voices clapped and praised him and the thunder roared its approval. But after ten minutes, the noise had stopped, and the night had its sacrificial lambs and its joy. So, with all the culminating frenzy, and as the madness in the air rose to a crescendo it at once was soothed into gratified calm. It seemed that all was quiet and the night was at once bright and smiling. The rain had ceased as quickly as it came and all was still and he stood there and at once the scene in front of him came into view. The lovers lay at his feet slashed beyond recognition as if a monster had sought to devour them and he turned and raced back to his sanctuary, guilty, dirty and soiled.

Excerpt From "The Dream Apprentice" -- by Geanina

Don’t believe the clichés about dying. None of them were true for me. There was no picturesque slideshow of my life that flashed before me as my last breaths escaped. There was no bright light at the end of some long ominously dark tunnel.

 What there was, by the grace of God, was a complete and utter calm after the storm. As soon as I let go of the gripping fear, a wave of realization flowed over me like a warm ray of slightly tingling vibration. It was like finally letting go of the vicious tug-of-war rope, but instead of falling ungracefully; a slow motioned float-fall movement buffered the fear. “I Never Dreamed You’d Leave in Summer”, one of my favorite Stevie Wonder songs, seemed to play somewhere outside my head. I love that song. I smiled inside. If I could have started singing along I would have, but I no longer had control of my physical movement. I noticed my eyes closing involuntarily. I realized then that I was happy in that moment. Happiness. It was unlike any that I had encountered on the many days that mysteriously precluded my death.

 That’s when the separation started. Dying, similar to birthing, is a difficult process. When a baby first gets that gasp of unmitigated painful air to its new lungs, there is a shock to the system. Hence, the crying is inevitable. Accordingly, when my spirit started to detach itself, again, in another involuntarily motion, I found my body became a bit stubborn. However, I didn’t have lungs and there were no longer any breaths I needed to take. Instead, it seemed the contrary and solely important thing to do was to forget to breath and move. In my Psychology 101 class in college, I learned that this is called de-association. People who do this to themselves on earth can inflict dangerous harm to themselves, so not really fully understanding the idea of death, I scared myself quite thoroughly. I felt disorientated, and then, because I had no other smart alternative, I did what I thought was sleeping.

I was told later that this went on for about an hour. Then, suddenly, without “waking” and without warning, I rose. Pressure from fast air compressing me, made me open my eyes, and I saw a flickering light. It reminded me of a kid playing with the light switch. I was also told that this was me simulating the contrast light that my imagination associated with leaving the earths’ atmosphere. See, I didn’t really leave earth. I can’t tell you much about where I ended up, but it wasn’t as far from earth as I thought it would be. It is not a “place” in the sense of a noun, but more a plain. It isn’t in the sky or galaxy, or even in the universe. In fact, the universe, amazing as it is, looks very small from here. When I got here, I wasn’t sure there was a heaven or hell, or if this place actually fit into my definition of either of those. When I was alive, I had my vague ideas of what afterlife would be like, but so far, this was more real and tangible than I could have possibly imagined. It was not dreamlike at all.

I didn’t know how long I’d been lying on the couch, but I felt very good. Rejuvenated, actually. As I looked around, I realized I was in a blue room, lying on an old schlumpy, but comfortable blue couch. It didn’t smell so wonderful, but it felt great. I took this to be a good sign, as my favorite color is blue. I’ve always been a strong believer in the power of omens, good or bad. The rest of the room was bare, not a picture, or stick of furniture occupied it, and oddest of all, not even a door was present in this room. I dizzily rose to a sitting position with my legs folded Indian style underneath me. The decision to place my feet on the floor yielded a breathtaking view. The uncarpeted floor was actually a beautifully carved navy marble floor. I studied this curiously for a contemplative second, and then continued to cool my feet on its deliciously cold surface.

It was only then that I looked down at myself. I noticed how thin my wrists were. I looked down at my flat stomach, completely flabbergasted.  I never had had washboard abs or anything, but my stomach now had barely any fat on it. My usual kangaroo pouch was gone and my skin looked like that of an eighteen-year old. I jumped up and spun around, laughing. All the years of calorie counting and grueling personal training sessions at the gym were all for naught.  All I had to do was die! There wasn’t a mirror anywhere so I had to satisfy my curiosity by feeling my face with my hands. I moved up to my hair. It had been naturally curly as a child but as the years passed it had become courser and thinner. My vanity wanted to confirm these newly regained features, but my hunger demanded that I survey my surroundings and find a way out.

As I surveyed the medium-sized room, I observed the thickness and texture of the walls. They were paper thin. Actually, these borders couldn’t really be called walls. They appeared to be more like a huge-scale paper Mache project produced by a talented yet obviously large crew. There was nothing on them, but as I stared, I realized that these walls encompassed more shades of blue than I’d ever seen. It reminded me of the painter that they always used to feature on PBS who shows you how to blend colors when you’re painting a tree or the ocean. I was awestruck, and honestly, a tad bit dumbfounded. Only then, did I think to look up. There was no ceiling, just a huge blue tarp that looked as if it had been haphazardly slung over the room’s four walls. I was pondering who would take the effort to drape the tarp over such a large space as this, and how did they it. It must have taken a team of at least nine or ten people. I hadn’t started to worry yet, but how I would manage to exit the room did cross my mind. Standing on the couch wouldn’t place me anywhere near touching distance of the tarp.

 Just then, I heard a loud rustling above my head. This tarp was either being moved by a strong wind, or being moved by some other force. Or someone, I reminded myself, swallowing hard. Finally looking up, I saw a small slice of sky exposed. In contrast to my blue haven below, the sky was a soft lavender hue. It was not unrealistic compared to the many dusky smog clouded mornings I’d spent in LA. It was just a bit brighter. Then I saw her. Piercing blue eyes peered back at me curiously.

“How are you doing down there?” a squeaky voice echoed down toward me.

 What caused that echo? I wondered.

“Hi”. I squeaked back. I was nervous. Too nervous to form an actual answer to her reasonable question. Weird. Why was I nervous?

 About a quarter of the tarp was now pulled back. Amazingly, an adorable young girl jumped onto the marble floor from the makeshift ceiling. She landed in the space that was hidden from my view by the couch. I rushed around the couch thinking she had to be hurt from a jump that high. After all, that was about a ten foot drop. But she was crouched on her two feet with the hands she’d used to steady herself placed on the floor. As she looked up at my worried yet quizzed expression, she giggled. I took a sharp breath, a surprise squeal trapped in my throat.

She was quite beautiful. She had the epicanthic folds around her eyes that let me know she had some form of Asiatic heritage. Her skin, however, was as dark as mine. A warm caramel. But the eyes were what captivated me. They were bright blue and piercing.  Her frame was tiny, even for a small girl, yet she seemed to be very nimble.

“Are you okay?” I said.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied smartly. This puzzled me even more. I glanced up again in attempt to calculate the distance of the tarp and the chilly marble floor. The distance had to be ten to twelve feet at least, floor to tarp, and the seemingly indestructible slate under my feet would in no way cushion a fall from that height.

“Well, that’s quite a jump,” I said carefully.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” she said, “you can do all kinds of things here.”

 “And what kinds of things…?” I said, quite baffled I might add.

“Anything you want. Perception is reality here,” she said with a giggle.

The words coming out of her mouth presented quite a conundrum for me. She looked like a young girl, somewhere between the ages of eight and ten, but she certainly didn’t talk like one.

“So…” I started, “how do we get out of here.”

“What do you think would be the most logical solution,” she said.

I looked around me. The walls, although thin, didn’t seem flimsy enough to push down. I tested one by pushing on it tentatively.

“That’s not going to work, silly,” she said, highly amused, I could tell.

“Well I don’t have a lot of experience with this kind of thing, you know. I’m used to rooms with doors,” I said under my breath.

“I guess what I should say is what do you think is the most illogical solution?” she said, another giggle just waiting to burst from her cute heart-shaped mouth.

Illogical? The possibilities were endless in a place like this. I guess I could turn into a bird and fly right out of here. That would definitely be outside my realm of what I knew reality to be.

“Well I guess flying would be something to consider, illogically speaking, of course,” I said.

“You mean like this?”

As she said it, she started to levitate. Just slightly, though, as if she was just testing herself. Almost as if she didn’t really know how to do it that well.  Her descent down to the marble floor was seamless.

 “Ok. Until now, I didn’t really believe it, but I know that’s not possible. I must really be dead,” I said with wonder.

“Yep! You are but don’t worry. From what I know, you don’t have much to miss, right?”

Stunned, I stared at her, unable to formulate a question or comment that would even make sense. Wait. She had just said thinking illogically was the only way we were going to get out of here.

 “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. I’m Aisha,” she said.

“Lola,” I said.

“Wow. That was my childhood friend’s name,” I said thoughtfully.

“I know,” she said, delightfully satisfied what I thought must be a coincidence.

“So is this some type of psychic plane? Do you know all my thoughts, or are you just privy to my past?”

 I wondered to myself if she knew what the word privy meant. Even twelve was pushing it for her size. But somehow I sensed that she did know what it meant, and that she could surpass me not only in vocabulary but volubility as well. She quickly proved my assumption was correct .

“You are right in a sense. This is a plane, but it’s not a psychic plane. It’s metaphorical plane, spiritual, allegorical even. It’s a place of your deepest desires and fears. It’s everything…”. She suddenly seemed as if she had ran out of words. “Don’t mind me though. I have a bad habit of talking too much.”

“So what do you want to do first?” she said, as if we were on a vacation planning our itinerary.

“Well, I guess the first question would be what can I do? I mean, obviously you can fly,” I said.

“Yeah, I don’t think you should try that,” she said, this time with an outright laugh. “It’s not easy,” she added.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m quite hungry. Which I don’t understand. Why would I need to eat if I’m dead? All carnal functions should die with my body, right?” I asked.

“Speaking of bodies, how do you like your new one,” she said with a small smirk.

This took me by surprise. Not because she knew that I was overweight in my living years, but because it’s just not a question that a nine, ten or however old she was would ask. I reciprocated avoiding her question with another of my own.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“In earth years?” Then she shook her head, self-deprecatingly. “Well, obviously in earth years, right? That’s all you know to measure by. I died twenty-two years ago,” she said matter-of-factly. “But to answer your other question, yes, carnal functions of the body are no more. It’s psychological. What you think is hunger is actually something else, but I’ll humor you. Let’s get something to eat.”

She put both of her arms around me and began to levitate. This time her ascent wasn’t so seamless. It was apparent that my weight, all though severely reduced, was difficult for her to carry. We were floating up to the part of the tarp that had been pulled back from the top of the room. Once we reached the top of the inside corner, she loosened her grip on my waist.

“You have to hold on to the corner, so I can jump down the other side,” she said.

“Uhh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I stammered.

“It’s the only way I can catch you. Unless you want to jump yourself,” she said with a hint of exasperation.

“Um, don’t take this the wrong way, but how are you going to catch me? I’m probably three times your weight!”

“Actually, it’ll probably be best for you to jump down yourself since you’re so paranoid. I hated when my dad used to throw me in the pool to make me learn how to swim. It’s best to go at your own pace.”

As she philosophized on my dilemma, I grabbed for the top of the inside corner near where the two walls met. I saw out of the corner of my eye that she was positioning herself at the apex of the wall, one bare foot on one wall and the other on the adjacent one. In one swift movement, she jumped out of the room onto whatever was out there. My curiosity was getting the best of me and I decided I wasn’t going to be a punk in front of this girl, no matter how long she had been here. I started to pull myself up onto the top of the wall. Although it was surprisingly thin, maybe only two to three inches thick, it was steady. I pulled myself up until I was able to place one of my feet on the top of the wall as she had. Then I pulled the other leg up between my arms, crouching down like a monkey on a tree branch.  I finally could see what was out there and there was ….nothing. 

The room we were in seemed totally detached from any other structure. We were on a hill that was populated with wild vibrant green grass. The hill, in fact, was so steep that I couldn’t see what lied on its other side.

“You don’t have to jump. Just let go. You remember gravity, right? It’ll do the rest,” she said. “You won’t get hurt, don’t worry.”

She was such a little smart ass that I started to argue with her and I let go of the wall unintentionally. I started to fall forward and my arms immediately flailed out, but I wasn’t falling the way gravity would normally permit, maybe at only a quarter of the normal speed. I hit the grass with a loud thump, flat on my belly.

“See, that didn’t hurt, did it?” she said smugly.

“Actually, it did sting a bit,” I replied.

“Well, then we’re gonna have to work on that perception of yours,” she said, helping me up with her tiny delicate hands.

I looked around again. This time without the bird’s eye view. There was nothing on the hill except the paper mache room. I looked up at the sunless bright lavender sky.

“Where are we,” I said with wonder.

“Some people call it the hereafter, heaven, or just the afterlife. I wasn’t alive that long so I call it home,” she said thoughtfully. She had a wistful look in her eyes so I decided to change the subject.

“So you said you’d humor me. Are we on our way to track down some food?”

“Yes. Most definitely. Actually, though, we’ll have to kill two birds with one stone. Don’t you like that phrase?” she said. “There’s someone you need to meet who will answer more of your questions and you can eat in the process over dinner.”