Bear and Octopus.

He walked in the room, I walked in the room, I am he and he is me, and there is only a thin valance of stray thought between us.

"There he is" says Momma, drowsily sweeping the floor.

I grumble.

"Thinking about her.  Wondering about her.  How is she?  What's she doing?  Is she thinking of you?"

"Always, Ma" I said.  Of course it was the way, always, to obsess to the horrific womanflesh piling that you loved, to obsess and smell, even in the midst of the debris field of a life.  Party hats and streamers for any crumb of attention.

I seen my sister, her brownish hair in the window, where she was sitting outside on the stoop, on her phone with her friends.  That was Marsha Dell.

"Boiled eggs, ma?" I said.

"Fried, baby" Ma said, not looking up from her floor.  "They're fried this morning."

I took my eggs, made the pretense of a man, the scantest overture of manhood, to sit, shoulders slumped, in the time-old way of caveman sitting, eating, also protecting their food, head down, shoulders hunched over.

"Good morning!" poppa, from the door.  "Beautiful day to spend in a warehouse."

"Hello love!" said mother.

Pa went and collapsed into his chair at the head of the table, back to the refrigerator, facing both the door and the window.  His plate was already sitting there waiting on him: homefries, bacon, eggs, and the toast sat conveniently, stationed on the plate, near the jam.

He broke-off a piece of his pre-buttered toast and looked up at me.  He breathed deeply and then said, "wondering about her.  How is she?  What's she doing?  Is she thinking of you?"

"Yes, papa" I said, and rubbed my knee.  

I hesitated.

"She needs two thousand dollars for tuition for her school" I said.

Mother gasped and Father smiled.

"And you're her knight, right?" said father, a worn smile on his face.  "Wanting to come through for her."

"Yes, papa" I said.  Feeling my nerves draw into a giant ball.

"Don't know how you're gonna do that, son" said father, his face turning serious.  "When you're otherwise busy here collecting flies, rather than earning an income...."

"Yes, papa" I said.

"You could borrow it from Marsha Dell" said momma.

"Where the hell did she get money?" said Poppa, turning angry.  "What did she do for that money?"

"She said some online boyfriend was sending her some money" said Momma.  "Actually, he's going to send her two thousand dollars, she told me".

"Nah" I said, feeling suddenly a loss of unction.  "Couldn't be" I said to myself.