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| (visual by dmealiffe via this license) |
dispatch eleven
Oikos by Adam Moorad
debuted 1 September 2009 | kept 1054 times | click to keep
behind-the-scenes footage 
“I don’t know if I want to go,” Donny says, eyes glued to the television screen. An animated version of him twirls a sword as he climbs the stairs of a castle to the song of trumpeters. Cartoon flags blow. Confetti flies. At the top of the staircase, Donny embraces a princess. Donny looks at the television, happy. Almost proud. Lamb wishes he could always feel the way Donny looks right now.
“Come on,” Amy says. “It’s not like you have to wake up early tomorrow. You can bring a friend.”
“Donny doesn’t have any friends,” Lamb says. He takes a sip from the bottle and coughs a lot. He cannot stop coughing. “Besides, he doesn’t have any money.” His eyes water when he hands the bottle to Donny. He hears voices. The television murmurs in muted breaths. Nothing makes sense to him. He tries to listen. Water running. Amy is washing dishes.
Donny looks at the bottle and the princess. Smiles. Takes the bottle. Offers Lamb the controller. Lamb doesn’t move. “I always have money to drink,” Donny says. He takes a sip and looks at the bottle. He takes another sip.
“So when are we going?” Lamb asks. He is beginning to feel less nauseous. Still nauseous. He stands up and walks over to Amy. There are only three dirty dishes left. Lamb says, “Do you want some help?” and kisses the back of her arm.
“Almost done,” she says. “I don’t care anymore.”
She shuts the faucet off. Turns around. Dries her hands on Lamb’s shirt. Lamb touches his stomach. He feels malnourished but fat. He says, “I need to lose weight.”
“If you were any thinner you wouldn’t exist,” Amy says. She opens a makeup cache and applies something to her face. “Now where are we going?”
“Let’s go wherever you want to go,” Lamb says.
“Yeah,” Donny says. “You decide.” He sits in front of the television. Yellow boxer shorts. Glasses. The game restarts. He is back at the start of his mission. He must travel across hundreds of galaxies again. He must duel aliens in hand to hand combat for interstellar domination again. He must fight for good against evil. He must save the princess again.
Lamb thinks about his yellow bow-tie and cummerbund. He wonders if the bow-tie and cummerbund were sold together or separate. He imagines they were sold individually. He pictures the two articles of dress clothing alone in different strangers’ closets. Separate and tired. Miles and miles of highway apart. Bombs along the highway. Every other mile. Cows and steeples. Airplanes in the sky. Voices on the radio, murmurs in the television. Ultraviolet light.
He feels cool and serene, like Michael riding a buffalo in some pasture on the frontier. Lamb sits in front of a fan. He adjusts himself and leans backward. He feels nothing. He moves the fan. Nothing. Again and nothing again. Am I dying? Cancer on his arms. He will focus all his energy on better, healthful living. He will be persistent and disciplined and this will save him from an early death. From lost arms. From the inevitable.
Donny must save the princess from death. From aliens. From a galaxy. From cancer. From a galaxy of cancer.
Lamb feels the urge to fight cancer. He will cut his arms if he has to; to save his life. He can use an axe or his father’s chainsaw. If Cynthia died of cancer, he wouldn’t care. She’d drink eggnog and fall out of her chair. Michael wouldn’t say anything because he never does. They’d laugh about it together at the dinner table. Brothers. Laughing, looking out the window at American flags in people’s yards. These people would go on to die in downtown Baptist hospitals. He touches his face and realizes he is smiling.