We were in bed
as we usually were
back then,
a regular yoko and john
without a cause,
in your boyhood bedroom
in your parents house
(independent were we)
watching and half watching
emma peel and john steed
avenge with a vengeance
of elegance and grace.
You said something
or failed to say something.
Feeling ignored, discounted
and jealous of diana rigg
I pouted; you kidded
with your usual
“got your goat, Barbs
got another one
here’s another
look at all these goats, Barbs.
You’re losing all your goats.
You’re not smiling, barbs.”
And I wasn’t smiling
I was not amused this time.
Throwing back the bedcovers
all high drama now
I walked with dignity
toward the bathroom
tossing in my wake
“You don’t care about me
I’m gonna kill myself.”
Closing the bathroom door
I pushed in the flimsy lock
and began my search
through the medicine cabinet.
Q-tips, Craig Martin toothpaste
the one without fluoride
you insisted on using,
(as our teeth cried for mercy)
because it had pepto bismol,
that soothed your stomach.
You wouldn’t buy a bottle
of Pepto. That was for people
with more serious problems.
Not for people like
us
Your parents kept the cabinet childproof
murine, guest soap, stool softener
Vicks Vaporub, emory boards
but on the top shelf
behind the mouthwash
lurked Bayer Aspirin
bottle of 100, nearly full.
Mindlessly, I began to swallow pills
a few at a time with water.
My attention span waned.
This would take forever.
In a light bulb moment
I emptied the bottle
into the waste paper basket
covering the pills with tissue.
I unlocked the door
and called for you
before stretching out
on the cold bathroom floor
feigning a death pose
worthy of Ms. Rigg
Forced to leave daring Dianna
you approached with annoyance
that swiftly turned to fear
enough to awaken your parents.
You and your dad
carried me back to bed
shook me and talked at me
while your mom mixed together
some concoction in the kitchen.
Something to swallow.
Dry mustard was in it.
I remember that much.
I was supposed to vomit
but I never did.
Your mom got suspicious.
She looked for and found
the unswallowed pills
in the trash.
She was not pleased.
You defended me though,
took all the blame,
said you’d double dared me.
They believed you
because they needed to.
because they wanted
to go back to sleep.
to go back to sleep.
© may 5, 2009 barbara moore
Here and Now