Dragons

I get into the van. "DRAGON HEATING & CONSTRUCTION" covers the side of it. I don't know why the Chinese like dragons. Monsters don't make me feel very lucky.

Max is driving. He is a good driver - I'm better, but today, I am too distracted. He knows that, and I am thankful that I don't have to say a word.

He is like a brother to me.

"Do you want to come out with us tonight?" he says when we get to my apartment building. "We're going out with a few girls from college. You could meet someone."

I laugh at him. "C'mon, don't joke. I don't want to come. Thanks for the ride." I get out of the car, and start to walk away from him.

"Hey!" he calls, rolling down the van's window. "Stop! Jesus, I know what you're going to do tonight. Just give up. There's nothing you can do, so why torture yourself?"

I freeze. "Shut up." I say.

"Ugh, you shut up, stop being so stubborn. She's not here. You're not going to find her. She probably forgot about you the second you stepped on that plane. Who would wait 5 years? Tell me, who?!"

I can't look at him. The day is too bright. There is too much spring air. I can't find any reasons to breathe.

"Please, I'm begging you. Just one night. You'll have fun."

"No." I hear him sigh.

"I swear to God, why do you have to hold on to her? You live here now. This is your life, this is your home, so grow up and accept it. She doesn't care about you. Don't you think she would have written to you? She could have called, or emailed. But she didn't. Fuck, I bet she's married with a kid already, and you are still mooning over her like a high school boy."

I look at him. He thinks this means I'm giving in. "You know I'm right. Come on, let's go. We're meeting them at six."

My hands clench in my pockets, around something soft and warm. I regret everything I have ever done in my life, because it all led up to this moment in time. I curse Max, for being the only person in the world who knows how I feel, and for being practical enough to try to change me.

Max is waiting for my response. I give it to him:

"Fuck you."

And then I run as fast as I can, like the coward I am, and watch him leave through the lobby window. I see the dragon on the back of the van, and wish my own demons would disappear just as quickly.

I make my way up to my apartment, on the 4th floor (sorry mother, that was the only floor available). I want to sit on my bed and cry. Max was right - I haven't grown up. I don't care.

Anger is anger, emotion is emotion. This is what I feel, and these April-May days just make it worse.

I am almost shaking when I make it to my bed, my head full of the words he said, my heart heavy with their meaning. I put my head in my hands. They are wet, but not with tears. They are slicked with a brown, salty liquid. I remember.

The quail.

The rooms fills with the scent, and I want to choke. I'm nauseous, dizzy. It reminds me of my home, my real home, and the girl I left behind. I cry, because I hate this stupid bird, for reducing me to nothing. I look up, for something, anything, to save me or kill me or tell me what I want to hear.

Mother, where are you? I am on my knees.

Why did you send me here?

There is nothing here for me.