Miss Hempstead's Brother
by Myfanwy Collins
All of the girls said Miss Hempsteadís brother was a real hunk, which was difficult to swallow given Miss Hempsteadís obvious homeliness but not out of the realm of possibility as she might have made an attractive man. Still the fact that he, the brother, had not been ugly made his death all the more tragic to the girls of Miss Hempsteadís grade six class.
Mouse liked to think of Miss Hempsteadís brother when she couldnít sleep at night. Liked to think of Miss Hempsteadís hunky brother canoeing out onto the foggy waters of Pooey Louisófor that is what they called it because everyone knew it was polluted, was full of shit.
Perhaps he felt hopeful on that May morning. The snow was gone, the cold. Perhaps he was ready to share his love of the water with his friend. They might have been training for a trip up north in the summer, where they would boat and portage across the black-fly covered water and land. They might have camped by the edge of a lake, and as they fell asleep they might have heard a grandfather telling a story to his 21 grandchildren.
First there would be the voice of the grandfather, low and long, telling a story, followed by the children laughing, highly and brightly and urgently.
This would go on for quite some time: grandfather, children, grandfather, children.
But they were not people. They were coyotes. The children, the smaller ones, the betas, circling around, howling high to the leaderís low moan.
As the cold of the water became too much, was he missing the coyotes? Was he thinking of the way the sky is wreathed in green and pink up there, up north? Was he thinking of the sound of moose teeth scraping together with the chewing of the cud?
And did he ever wear clogs like the boy at her bus stop? And when the road crusted over with ice for the whole of the winter, had he been one of those boys who latched onto the bumper of a school bus as it passed, sailing impossibly over the ground, flying with the speed, risking death for that moment?
Was Miss Hempsteadís brother thinking of his homely sister as he diedóher tightly permed hair, her pale lips? How her anger was so quick, so easy with young girls who make mistakes?
All content in SmokeLong Quarterly copyright 2003-2014 by its authors.
Myfanwy Collins has work published or forthcoming in The Kenyon Review, Cream City Review, FRiGG, AGNI, The Jabberwock Review, Swivel, and others. Please visit her at http://www.myfanwycollins.com.
Read the interview.
|Issue Sixteen (March 15, 2007): Heaven by the Highwayside by Mike Amato «» There Swells and Jets a Heart by Rusty Barnes «» Miss Hempstead's Brother by Myfanwy Collins «» This Is What You Left Behind by Tod Goldberg «» Ten Very Short Stories by John Leary «» Photographer and Model by Stefani Nellen «» On Mondays, Francesca Takes the Stairs by Cami Park «» Seven in the Morning by Max Ruback «» Baby in a Jar by Tom Saunders «» The Color of Moths by Holly Selph «» The List by Paul Silverman «» Glasgow Lullaby by Rob McClure Smith «» Night Birds by Craig Terlson «» Quake by Beth Thomas «» Deep in the Heart of Texas by Robert Travieso «» Disappearances by Jeff Vande Zande «» This Is Just Another Yarn by Ann Walters «» Travel by Nancy Zafris «» Interviews: Mike Amato «» Rusty Barnes «» Myfanwy Collins «» Alicia Gifford «» Tod Goldberg «» John Leary «» Stefani Nellen «» Cami Park «» Max Ruback «» Tom Saunders «» Holly Selph «» Paul Silverman «» Rob McClure Smith «» Craig Terlson «» Beth Thomas «» Robert Travieso «» Jeff Vande Zande «» Ann Walters «» Nancy Zafris «» Cover Art "A Gathering of Matisse" by Marty D. Ison «» Letter From the Editor|