Professional Documents
Culture Documents
LARISSA SHMAILO
BLAZEVOX[BOOKS]
Buffalo, New York
Patient Women
A Novel by Larissa Shmailo
Copyright 2015
Published by BlazeVOX [books]
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without
the publishers written permission, except for brief quotations in reviews.
Printed in the United States of America
Interior design and typesetting by Geoffrey Gatza
First Edition
ISBN: 978-1-60964-201-3
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014957783
BlazeVOX [books]
131 Euclid Ave
Kenmore, NY 14217
Editor@blazevox.org
BlazeVOX [ books ]
blazevox.org
21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10
Out of the blackout Nora hears a voice: Dont die baby dont
die baby dont die baby dont die . . . .
Eyes rolling, head thrashing, her back arched on the
gurney, Noras scream rips out: Get the fucking needles
out of my mouth . . . .
What are they doing? They are pumping her stomach they
are giving her charcoal she is hooked to an I.V. again . . .
Which flight deck which tank St. Josephs. St. Francis St.
Johns . . . Oh Mother of God shes conscious shes conscious
shes still alive . . . .
Nora was never late; she either came on time or didnt
come at all. Her lover drinks a scotch he doesnt want and
waits for Nora to come, Nora who is never late. From the
window, he watches a young couple kiss; they are
seventeen, perhaps eighteen years old. He turns away,
suddenly uncomfortable, and starts calling hospitals.
Her lover finds Nora in St. Lukes. She is pissy and her face
is swollen. She recognizes him. She smiles, then grimaces.
11
12
Nora spent three days with the detectives from the 26th
Precinct before his body came up near the 14th Street pier,
looking for a bottle of scotch on the rocks.
Miss . . . miss . . . can you hear me? What day is it? Miss?
Miss, wake up . . . How many fingers am I holding up,
Miss? How many fingers?
In Mexico, in the mountains, I could see the rainstorm, thirty,
forty kilometers away. I saw it moving in the central
mountains, clearly defined and distant rain. Dancing rain. I
stood and watched it dancing.
14
15
16
17
18
The first and simplest stage in the discipline, which can be taught even
to young children is . . . the faculty of stopping short, as though by
instinct, at the threshold of any dangerous thought.
George Orwell, 1984
You
Who are on the Road
Must have a Code
That you can live by.
Graham Nash, Teach Your Children
Nora lied a lot: she told elaborate and peculiar lies. Nora
had an imaginary boyfriend who was twenty-six and beat
her; shed lost her virginity in the sixth grade; shed been
to the Woodstock festival and the Apollo Theater. Shed
experienced a lot for a thirteen-year-old white girl from
Queens.
Nora was born in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Her family
moved to Middle Village when she was a year old. When
people asked her where she came from, Nora answered,
Brooklyn; Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
19
22
concentrating on Joey, who was thinner and coolerlooking than Nora. The red-haired man was especially
friendly today, asking her questions, and remarking how
mature Nora was. He asked her how old she was. Nora,
who was thirteen, usually said fifteen, but today told the
red-haired man that she was sixteen. To her surprise, he
invited her home for tea. Nora hid the book bags, and
went with the man to his apartment.
Nora could not overcome a feeling of disappointment
when she first saw the red-haired mans apartment. The
apartment was small and shabby, cramped and dirty
around the edges. When she used the bathroom, she saw
that the red-haired man lived with a womanthe
makeup, creams and tampons were too much at home to
belong to a casual visitor. She squelched her
disappointment and joined the red-haired man in the
living room.
Nora returned to the small grainy living room and sat on a
mattress draped with Indian cloth. The man poured her a
glass of wine and filled a pipe with hashish. Nora
pretended to drag deeply, but didnt inhale for fear of
coughing and acting like an idiot.
The man gently but firmly shoved Nora back on the faded
bed spread. He tried to tongue kiss her, but could not get
his tongue into Noras mouth. Nora tried desperately to
24
relax, go with it, as the man was suggesting, but could not:
whether it was the hashish or the wine, Noras teeth
clamped shut, and would not open.
The red-haired man made annoyed noises. Disoriented,
Nora staggered to the door, feeling clumsy and disgraced,
praying that Joey wouldnt somehow find out.
26
27
their faces were zitty, and their tits were too big. Girls from
Queens turned out like their mothers.
Some boys in a rowboat were calling to the boy in the
fringed jacket. Nora watched the long-haired boys stand
straight up in the rowboats, then belly flop into the lime
green algae. The boy in the fringed jacket explained to
Joey that his friends had dropped acid cut with speed. He
lit a thick joint and offered it to Nora, who coughed until
her face turned red. Joey politely interrupted a story about
Eric Clapton to wait for Nora to finish coughing.
Embarrassed, Nora ran to the lake and threw herself into
the water fully dressed. She heard applause and hoots
behind her. She swam, cold and embarrassed, thinking, I
have a pretty face, prettier than Joey but I am fat and my
breasts flop in my wet shirt. I am embarrassed: It is too much to
throw yourself into the water dressed in Central Park, it isnt
hot enough in May and my jeans and shirt and shoes take too
long to dry . . . .
28
29
30
East Third. We can stay there until we get the bread for
the bicycles.
Crowds of unsmiling office workers pushed out of their
offices into the subway. Rick panhandled, mocking the
people who gave him money with his servile tone.
You girls could work for a couple of weeks, he suggested
I know where to get papers easy. Most of the time, girls
like you dont even need papers to work. Nora was
uncomfortable, but was too conscious of her breasts
bobbing beneath her wet tee-shirt to notice much else.
Joey was in her element, grinning and greeting Ricks
remarks with a peace sign and a power salute. Nora
walked quietly, keeping a little apart, feeling as though she
didnt want to know where they were going.
They turned east on Fourteenth Street. The girls followed
Rick to the door of a large building, Salvation Army
Headquarters, waiting for him outside. After a few
minutes, he reemerged with blankets and a can of peanut
butter the size of a gasoline drum. Nora felt ashamed, as
though she had stolen something from a very old poor
person. Laughing too loud, she accepted a blanket from
Rick, wrapping it around her shoulders like a cape.
Still, Nora was surprised: apart from a small nagging
feeling of guilt, she felt pretty good, even excited and
happy. There was momentary remorse as they entered the
East Village and Nora saw the old, hobbling, wrinkled
31
32
35
worker in the loft, that night. He was gentle. Nora was glad
not to feel anything.
Nora was returning from the East Street Mission with food
for the pad when the Hells Angel Mario called her over.
Terrified, she crossed the street slowly.
Mario looked Nora over.
How old are you, kid? he asked.
Nora froze. She looked at Mario; the Angels bullish eyes
were bloodshot.
Twelve, she lied.
Mario closed his eyes and fell silent, lost in thought. After
a long moment, he opened his bovine eyes.
Can you go home, kid? he asked.
Nora was taken aback. Sure, she said.
The Angel held her cheek between his fingers and shook
his head sadly.
Go home, kid, he said. Go home.
The girls went home after a few more days. Joey called her
sister who said there was a thirteen-state All Points
Bulletin out for the runaways. This was standard
procedure for missing persons but the sound of it
impressed Nora.
36
Joey was determined to stay. Nora held out for a few days
but finally decided to go home. Joey felt betrayed and
disgusted.
Youll tell them where I am, she sneered.
I wont, I wont, Nora swore.
Panhandling the price of a token, Nora rode the subway to
Queens and walked the bus route hone to Middle Village.
38
40
42