The night the ducks lined up in pairs along the water, Dollie promised herself she would marry that man. She held onto his belt loops and drew figures around his belly button. He whispered number sequences in her ear that indicated marriage potential.
Dollie loved the way their teeth knocked when they kissed. Her man didn’t know what he loved about Dollie. He told her she reminded him of a dog. He asked her not to sit on the furniture.
The sparrows that circled her head told her different things; they whispered word sequences that indicated marriage potential. They gave her a giant halo as she walked; they classified her as angel. “He doesn’t smile when he sees you,” Dollie’s friends told her. She reminded them that he didn’t smile when he saw anyone.
When Dollie asked her man to marry her, he shrugged and answered, “Sure.” Dollie thought this was romantic. This must be the best way to respond to a marriage proposal. It was, after all, his.
But not long after they married, her man started forgetting how to talk. It started with the not talking, and then it was hard for Dollie to see him clearly. His figure was obscure. It was as if she could always only sort of make him out in the dark; his flesh glowed solemnly.
She would wake up in bed, and he wouldn’t be next to her. When she did see her man, he would forget her name, he would call her “Polly,” or call her nothing at all. She would look down at her hand and find that her ring was gone; sometimes it would reappear, but only by half.
Marriage was less fun than she thought.
When I was a toddler, my father was interested in birding. My father can be a bit of an obsessive, and it began to annoy my mother. At one point, I got hold of my father’s birding book. Not yet understanding what separated them, I went through the entire book of birds, pointing at each and simply saying “bird,” “bird,” “bird.” My mother found this hilarious.
I no longer see shades of you in every living thing. I feel free. I once again classify everything the same.
Dollie and her man divorced. She told all her friends, “Man, that guy really stunk.” All her friends rolled their eyes and said, “Uh-huh.” Dollie hit the road. Now she loves a guy who lets her sit on the furniture. They’re never getting married.