


Timothy
Gager
How
Do
You Fix It?
First,
Michelle tried to put the slick wet thing back into Jessie, but it was
shaped like
a cinder block, and the hole in his chest was small and round.
“I
don’t
think
you can do it,” he told her. Michelle manipulated the heart much
like the
way a gorilla would try to fit a sofa up a narrow staircase. It was
small but
difficult; a dead weight.
“Remember
that
game, Perfection?” she asked while straining with the hardly
beating
organ, turning it this way and then that.
“It’s
useless,”
he said. “I don’t know why you would continue--” Michelle
gently
placed the heart onto the living room floor and tried to massage it.
Jessie lay
on his back and watched the ballgame. The doorbell rang.
“Don’t
answer
it,” Jessie moaned, but it was too late; Michelle turned the
handle and
faced Jessie’s previous lover.
“What
are
you doing here?” she asked. Jessie thought Michelle should have
been the
one who asked that.
“I’m
working
on the problem…I think it’s a really good heart,” Jessie
answered. The former
lover walked over and kicked it like a soccer ball.
“I
think
you should leave,” Michelle said sternly.
“Uhhh,” Jessie said, as his heart slowed to a silence.
Copyright
© 2009
971 MENU