LISTEN UP by Nick Faber Hank stood in front of in the bathroom mirror with the old, rust-tipped tweezerswobbling less than an inch from his eye, held loosely in his spotted hand. His eyebrowshad been gradually making their way around his eyes for months, and this morning, thehair had finally grown into a semi-circle that was so well defined that Hank couldn't go tothe liquor store without grooming himself first.One by one, he plucked all of the extra hairs, along with some that weren't extra,and by the end of it, his eyes, which were blurry with age anyway, were now blurry withtears, and the skin around them was bright red, like someone had just sucker-punchedhim with both fists at once.Hank carefully slid his arms into the brown leather jacket, which was cracked andfaded from fifty years of all-season wear. The sky was overcast and even a little foggy, but Hank left the house wearing his big black sunglasses, the same knock-off Ray Ban'she had worn since high school.The subway stop on Hank's street was outdoors, so he sat in the indoor lobbywhere the air wasn't quite cold enough to make his knees ache, but was still cold enoughthat he could see his breath. He didn't hear the high-pitch beeping that announced thetrain's approach, so he didn't realize that the train was coming until it was pulling up tothe platform right above him.Hank pulled himself up the stairs just in time to see the subway doors close with a pleasant bing-bong. When he got to the top step, he waved, hoping the conductor wouldsee him and open the doors again, but the F-train pulled away, leaving a freezing coldgust in its wake, giving Hank a real chill. His long white ear hairs danced in the frosty1

February air.He spit on the tracks and waited on the cold platform for the next train.***Hank was the only man that Rita had ever known in the Biblical Sense. They metat a neighborhood dance on Ocean Parkway that Rita’s sister had dragged her to. With her buck teeth and scrawny legs, Rita wasn’t much of a looker. She had only been on twodates in her life, and neither guy had called her back. On most nights, she just stayed inand read, resigned to the fact the only men in her life would be the detectives in her novels. Rose, who was 27 and already had three kids of her own, was genuinely terrifiedthat her sister would become a spinster, a common worry of the time. But more than that,she liked to get away from her family once in a while to have a little fun, and to feel likea young person.The dance hall was nearly empty. Rita and Rose danced all night, right in the frontof the band, who was playing in the provocative new rock and roll style. The girls had afew vodka drinks throughout the night, making every song sound poignant andmeaningful, every dance move feel more urgent and inspired. Rose and Rita slow dancedto the slow numbers, waved their fingers and jitterbugged to the fast ones. By the lastsong, a real rollicking tune, the girls were boogying around a neat pile they had madefrom their purses and high heel shoes.Hank never learned to play an instrument, but he dressed like the guys in the band, and leaned coolly against the stage, facing the crowd all night, snapping his fingersas if he were the band's snapper. He stood right under the handsome bass player, whohappened to be Hank's cousin.2

After the guitar's final chord finished ringing, the small crowd started to gather uptheir coats and purses and head out. Rose checked the clock in the back of the hall. Theystill had ten minutes before her husband, David, was to pick them up.Rose dug her fingers into Rita's shoulders and spoke very gravely. “Listen to me, baby sister,” Rose said, sweaty face to sweaty face with her sister. “I want to know if youtrust me.” Her breath was hot and stunk like fermented cranberries.Rita nodded. “Sure, I trust you.”“Good,” Rose said and she dragged Rita to the stage by the arm. The band waswrapping up their cables and putting away their instruments. Rose was so fixated on thehandsome young bass player that she pulled her sister right into Hank, who wiped hisshoulder like Rita had just spilled a drink on him.“Watch it lady,” he said, trying to curl up his lip and look more like a hood. Hiseyes were filled with fear and contempt and Rita's eyes were filled with drunkendesperation. It was love at first sight. While Rose was still trying to get the bass player'sattention, Hank took off from the dance hall and Rita followed closely behind him. Hedrove her down to Coney Island on the back of his motorcycle and she gave herself tohim on a playground bench.They met at another dance the next night, and afterwards they went back toHank's and made it in his bed. Rita tried to snuggle up to him, but Hank just wanted tolay back with his hands behind his head and listen to his records all night. He told Ritawho had written and produced each record, what the instrumentation was, and who played what on each cut. He told her which parts of each song were his favorite and why.They had sex one more time in the morning, at Hank's insistence, and when he3