“I am caterpillar. The leaves I eat taste bitter now. But dimly I sense a great change coming. What I offer you, humans, is my willingness to dissolve and transform. I do that without knowing what the end-result will be, so I share with you my courage too.”

I dress like the black
butterfly draped in silver
sequins and pink,
a wand and i open the
door wide open to
little girls on my block
dressed like
kitty cats
and the first thing
i say is

i’m the glinda
the good witch,
i burned a sigil

for this.

12.

I sit quietly with the phone in my lap for minutes turning the last phrase over and over. Not a robber, left a key under my mat, offered flashlight. When the phone turns on and Ian’s name pops up and the first thing he says is
Hey kitten, hanging in there? Need anything?
I think differently.
Well, a robber of sorts.
Grace is the way the engine hums silently, almost a chirr. The way I missed the chirring of insects, I suddenly feel like I got it.
yes
I type
WATER CANDLES BATTERIES PROTECTION NEWS UPDATES. GOT ANY?
He said when I meant it, I should yell it.
It’s 3:30 am and I will hear from him tomorrow. I close my eyes letting the phone charge longer and visualize it; guns, fruit, nuts, candles, a man, a dog, a fence, a bridge, me jumping off. Me, in gown, always blue approaching the icy ledge and then a man behind me:
“Hey.”
And I turn to him and it is snowing hard suddenly.
“Well, that’s one way to avoid a war.”
And then he pushes me. I wake up startled and sweating. The heat is on. Oh, heat, how I missed you. Forty five minutes have passed. Oh shit. The tank is less than a quarter full. My burner is fully charged. Fuck.
“I fell asleep.”
I take the burner off and place the other one.
“I’m sorry, Martha, but someone was going to steal your car anyway and now you’re stuck with us.”
I pinch the knife and rest my head again.  I am on a stage like a play and there are cardboard cutouts all around me. They are painted orange and yellow like flames. I am cooing, not exactly singing but praying in a sing song voice and then squabbling like a bird. I see figures approaching. Silouhettes.
“Psst.”
I look to my right and see a woman dressed in a big brown bird costume.
“They’re all men,” she says and smiles.
I look to the audience and she’s right.
I start screaming.

When I hear the men approaching, I am quiet, petrified and still. It’s their steps, I hear, or rather, I hear movement outside. Perhaps, it is the stray cat I’ve been waiting for. Then I hear,
“This one.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, shh, quiet. I cased it earlier.”
I am still in the seat when I hear the car door open. I am still in the seat when I hear his friend walk around to the other side. I am still in the seat when the engine starts. I am still in the seat when I hear the gravel, the pause, the gravel, the pause, the long gravel the pull away. I am still in the seat, breathing.
“Thank fucking god.’
I look up slightly just to hear better and then I sit all the way up. They stole the car in front of me. They checked to see if it had an alarm as I had the day I tapped it with my finger as I walked by, lifting the handle, just a test and for no reason. I never intended to steal this car. More curious, really, testing preparedness and they had done the same. They had probably been waiting to steal it for hours. They had probably been checking all the cars. They sounded white. The same white men I had run past. I wonder if they are the same white men robbing McKean. I am climbing over the seat. My charger is in my coat pocket with both phones. My pockets have grown heavy. I am looking up the street to see if anyone has exited from the noise and my skin is drumming. There are goosebumps lining my body and I can taste my pulse it’s so loud. If you were here, you would lay gently on my body and ask
“Is there a racecar in your chest?”
I would kiss you even though it’s stupid because I’m sorry.

“Stop it.”
I feel free in this car. I know I should be as quiet as I can but I feel as if I can speak again. Climbing over the console into the backseat, I begin humming, just a bit. Just to take away some tension. It is that moment when I stop fearing being watched that is when I feel watched again and silence myself. This is a nervous time. Anyone walking wouldn’t know this isn’t my car. Anyone walking shouldn’t be trusted.
“I will not leave the key under my mat again. I have done it.”
I scrape the vinyl of the passenger’s side seat with the knife when I turn to jump over the console and I only know because the knife gets stuck and I have to yank it out. Beleaguered. That’s the word I am looking for. I sigh out loud and my shoes are dirty and the front seats are covered in dirt from the way I positioned myself. Sort of rolling the rest of the way, I plop in the backseat and lay down. I am resting my head on both hands feeling the cool of the knife against my cheek. Things I am good at:

–waiting.
–hiding.
–counting.
—words.
—telling long misleading stories to get out of something.
—and when the sun is up and out, I am pretty good at laughing too.

“I am good at lists,” I say to no one.
I give myself thirty minutes before the next move. I start with the names of every street I know and try to keep them in order going North to start: Mckean, Mirch, Morris, Fernon, Tasker, Dickinson, Washington, Catherine, Christian. I don’t trouble myself with being perfect just naming them as fast as I can and in the right direction. North. I am facing the windshield and I am still. When I hear the men approaching, I am quiet, petrified and still.

this next section is called: edges or how to build a wall around yourself.

I leave candles lit sometimes when I leave the house. For hours, in their votive on my altar. I am jogging towards Morris St. It will take me five minutes and I am suddenly awake. Not everyone is asleep. I see two men walking up a side street as I run past. Don’t stop. I leave candles burning overnight. I leave candles on every wooden surface and then I go about my day. I know the names of a few of my ancestors and I repeat them to myself: Theresa Panko. I run faster and I am aware suddenly that the edges of the city are closing in. We are three days in and I am not invulnerable or wearing armor. There is ice in some places. Theresa Panko. I don’t think about Hungary like I should or what was done to us. I almost slip on a patch but I run faster and I see the sign for Mirch st. and nothing has fallen out of my pocket and I feel sorry for the strange man but then I see the empty street and red sedan.
“Dear God,” I whisper. “Give me all the luck we lost.”
Theresa Panko, surrendered her daughter to an orphanage in Hungary and opened up a tavern in Passaic, New Jersey. Give me your guile.
I am in the car with the door closed in silence, with the door locked, haven’t started it or decided anything in silence. Finally, I’m sobbing.

You’d be shocked to know that I left my front door key under my front step black kitty cat face place mat but I had. An exercise of trust. I did not want any keys jangling and I knew no one, not even myself, would look under the front mat for my key. Unless they did, but I felt secure placing the heater down for a moment, lifting it up, grabbing they key and unlocking it quickly. Safely inside, there was no safe inside, but we were all pretending and so was I.  I set the heater down next to the door, walked to the table, snatched the charger and proceed to re enter the night. I had an inch of a plan: start their car, charge my phone, return all keys and walk back. Tired? Maybe. I took my key this time. As I said, that was an exercise of trust. People get lucky twice, three times, multiple times but best to be smarter every time.
“When you start the car,” I began to myself, “be prepared to steal it.”
You cannot do these things if you are not prepared to run. As I turned the corner, I met the first stranger of the night.
“Hello,” I said.
He was facing me. I squared but recognized him. He may not have been homeless but he hung around a lot. He was wearing a big black parka, his eyes were wide. He had gloves.
“Do you need anything?” I asked without moving.
I made a quick pact with myself: don’t tell him your name, where you live or invite him inside. He mumbled and kind of rocked and moved towards me but slowly.
“The world is ending.”
His eyes were wide and I could see the white of his teeth and gray of his beard but nothing else.
“Here,” I reached in my back pocket. “I have a flashlight.”
I held it out to him, my hands still ungloved and probably getting frost bit. I would need to take a bath when I got home. No, you need to conserve water.
“You’ll need that mosying on your missions.”
His voice was gruff but weak. He had spoken to me once before. Asked me which way the bus was going and I didn’t know.
“I have an extra. It will help you see.”
I closed the gap between us and handed it to him with my left hand, same hand the knife was taped to and hoped he wouldn’t suddenly grab it. We held gaze. His face was sad and he felt close to succumbing to the weather. I could see his cheeks, dotted with something, maybe ice and for a black man, he was pallid. He smiled and his teeth were a perfect yellow. I get upset over mine but his teeth were ruined. He did grab my finger tips.
“Don’t go on Mckean and 2nd, they are robbing people.”
I nodded. He nodded and walked past me, leaving the flashlight with me. A chill went down my back. McKean is only two blocks away from Mirch. I turned to watch him continue his walk and then I started running the other way.

January 12 2020

I decide that the best course of action is a little bit of chaos. Charging my phone at three am was a risk I was going to take. When I left their house with all their keys tucked in my pocket, I thought it best to walk briskly. I could not put the heater underneath my jacket and though I would attract attention to myself, I had no choice. I sort of jog-walked the ten minutes. Alert, I didn’t let my mind wander too far but truly, how the fuck is everyone sleeping?

You’d be shocked to know that I left my front door key under my front step black kitty cat face place mat but I had. An exercise of trust. I did not want any keys jangling and I knew no one, not even myself, would look under the front mat for my key. Unless they did, but I felt secure placing the heater down for a moment, lifting it up, grabbing they key and unlocking it quickly. Safely inside, there was no safe inside, but we were all pretending and so was I.  I set the heater down next to the door, walked to the table, snatched the charger and proceed to re enter the night. I had an inch of a plan: start their car, charge my phone, return all keys and walk back. Tired? Maybe. I took my key this time. As I said, that was an exercise of trust. People get lucky twice, three times, multiple times but best to be smarter every time.
“When you start the car,” I began to myself, “be prepared to steal it.”
You cannot do these things if you are not prepared to run. As I turned the corner, I met the first stranger of the night.

The previous evening was mostly blur. I had arrived unrested, unkempt an ddehydrated, not to mention completely apathetic to the presence of everyone around me. The fluorescent lighting didn’t help. It felt like day but how long had I been in the ER? They gave me an IV of water, took my vitals, made me answer questions.
“When was the last time you ate?”
And the pause between the question and the answer alarmed them.
“I didn’t eat today actually.”
I had no problem getting to the acute unit. Well, I was escorted but I mean I was voluntary. Well,  I was on suicide watch but that felt normal to me. I had to eat so I was placed at a table with a big, black man with no hair named Aaron. He put a cup of chocolate pudding in front of me and a spoon.
“They’ve already had dinner.”
What time is it?
“I’m vegan.”
I looked down when I spoke, ashamed at my request. I should be grateful for anything right now. He eyed me before moving. I guess he was waiting to see if I would eat it without fight. Out of my periphery, I saw him nod. I had a red bracelet on so no one could leave me alone. He got up and traded places with the man outside the doorway. Aaron disappeared and this new man sat in his place.
“Hey.”
He politely waved. He also had bald head too but he was slimmer than his friend and had a goatee. He never told me his name. Aaron returned with applesauce, his friend got up, Aaron sat down in front of me and slid it across.
“Vegan.”
“Yes.”
“They said you don’t eat.”
“Yes.”
“I’m gonna watch you eat.”
“Well aren’t you an angel?”
It took me one whole minute to pull the tab off. Aaron didn’t say anything. I hated being watched. I was slow when I was watched. I placed it neatly next to me and picked up the little plastic spoon and took a tiny bite. I felt the sugar hit my teeth and then the viscous goo and then the jaw’s reaction. Subdued panic. I placed the spoon back on the table.
“What, no way, uh uh. You gotta EAT.”
“I am eating, Aaron.”
He froze. When you say a man’s name back to him like that, they lose control. I picked the spoon back up and took another bite to show him.
“I’m eating.”
I took a few more bites to assuage him and then stopped.
“I don’t like to be rushed.”
He was immediate with his returns.
“I see that.”
I sat with my arms crossed in my lap waiting for him to leave but then I glimpsed at the red bracelet..
“So…is starvation the way you want to go?”
I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. What to say here. You have to be careful in hospitals. You have to be careful in court and with doctors and with landlords. You always have to be careful. I kept my eyes to the window.
“Of course not. I would always jump off a bridge. Be dramatic about it.”
“Oof that would hurt.
I turned back to look at him. he leaned back in his chair, crossed his hands over his lap.
“So does everything.”
I finished the applesauce in front of him and he didn’t ask any more questions.He escorted me to my room and I saw that I was sharing the room with an older white woman who I knew immediately was trouble. I could tell because when I walked in she said,
“Get the fuck out of here you polak bitch.”