“Close the door! Heat’s expensive!”

Jimmy glowers behind the diner counter.

 

Elaine ignores him, slides across into my booth.

Jimmy shrugs, closes it himself.

 

She has that effect on most people.

But not on me.

I’m on to her.

 

She unwinds a scarf, unbuttons her coat.

“Arnie, you know what all that sugar and those refined carbs do to your body.”

She points to streaks of pancake syrup on the Formica table.

“But thankfully I always know where to find you.”

She leans in, clicks her acrylic nails on the table, oblivious when i wince.

 

Resigned, i settle back in the padded booth.

i won’t be able to say a word until i listen to another of Elaine’s long rambling tales.

i motion for the server to refill my coffee cup.

 

Click click.

“My professor, you know the one I like, gave us an assignment to create a story from our ten favorite words. Says it will show our values.”

Click click click

“You listening Arnie?”

 

i usually just raise my eyebrows to encourage her.

Not that she needs it.

 

Click,

“I’m ashamed to say my favorite word is “I”. she makes air quotes over ‘I’.

Gives an eye roll.

 

“Damned good insight….”

i begin, but of course she’s already talking over me.

 

“You’d think the word “I” would be tattered from overuse but it stubbornly continues to overwhelm and smother the “me” that has spiritual ideals beyond “I”.

 

She catches my effort to control a smirk, lowers her voice,

“Yes, I sound grandiose.”

 

“Oh Elaine”, tumbles out. i lean in.

 

She pulls back,

“But I get some hope from my word ‘dunno’.

Been using it more these days.”

 

Startled, i lean back

“You? ‘Dunno?’”

 

She shrugs,

“Such a humble word of possibilities. Don’t you think?”

 

“Umm,” i nod, wary, her questions often a setup for fights i always lose.

 

She spreads her hands,

“‘Dunno’, a made up word that moves me beyond “I” and the certainty of ego.

“I” hates that ‘dunno’ word, says ‘dunno’ is clumsy, sounds uneducated.

“I” fancies itself the center of attention.”

 

i open my mouth speak but she says,

“‘I’ can’t live comfortably with uncertainty, with ‘I dunno’”.

So there’s ‘I’ jumping up and down enraged.

 

But ‘dunno’ means I stay teachable-

that’s a value of mine.”

She looks to see if I’m impressed, then checks her reflection in the window.

 

As usual, I’m confused.

 

There’s a flash of vulnerability in her eyes.

“Perhaps using ‘dunno’ is my start in the right direction away from hanging out exclusively with ‘I’ ?”

 

Touched, i nod.

 

Tap tap,

“Maybe I can compromise” with that bully ‘I’?

 

It’s risky but i say,

“Perhaps try including ‘and’?”

 

She nods.

I exhale.

Didn’t realize i was holding my breath.

 

She stabs a finger at me,

“Of course I won’t neglect ‘I’ but invite ‘and’ to expand space with other perspectives, ‘and’ people, ‘and’ choices.”

 

In the brief silence i jump in,

“Just because ‘I’ is your favorite doesn’t mean it’s your only word.”

 

She peels an edge of purple nail polish,

“It’s such a tiring war between ‘I’ and my values that include gentle words like ‘forgive’, ‘kindness’, ‘acceptance’.”

 

She leans forward, her elbows somehow find a syrup free area on the table,

‘I’ would rather ignore my values. ‘I’ resists because those words mean connection.

Perhaps annihilation?”

 

Uh oh, posturing, wants me to know she’s reading Sartre.

More confusing nonsense.

 

i put my empty coffee cup down,

“i guess ‘I’ is terrified of being aced out?

That there’s not enough attention to go around? Not enough love to share?”

 

Damn, there I go again.

Sound like a scared female posing questions rather than saying what i mean. Oh man up!

 

Instead i run my finger around the rim of the empty cup, marvel how hard she’s working to be a better version of herself.

 

Unless it’s all bullshit.

 

She snaps her fingers.

“Earth to Arnie!

Isn’t there enough room for every word and letter to be heard?”

 

i smile, nod.

Oops! Rookie mistake.

 

She shakes her head,

“No! There’s never enough room for anyone but I”.

“Arrogant ‘I’ demands only “me me me!””

 

“But”, i foolishly begin.

 

She interrupts,

“So I often don’t stand up for my values because ‘I’ gives me big trouble if I don’t give it what it wants.

I’m ashamed that I often side with ‘I’

But ‘I’ doesn’t appreciate that either.

‘I’ has no compassion for me.”

 

She sighs.

Her breath hangs between us.

Keto breath.

Poor woman’s dieting again.

GLP 1?

 

i reach for her hands.

Fumble.

Shrug an apology, finally

capture her hands to warm them.

And to head off more of those annoying nail taps.

 

Her hands tremble.

 

Nerves, or medication side effect?

At least she isn’t rhyming. The giveaway she’s ramping up.

 

She raises her voice, a woman at the next table glares.

Elaine ignores both the woman and my shushing.

 

She’s louder.

“‘I’ scolds that I don’t live up to my values.

Bullies like ‘I’ can’t be trusted.

Won’t be placated even if I go along with them.

Then those ‘I’ showboats see my deference as weakness, and demand more and more.

Of course ‘I’ hates to contend with other ‘I’s unless they flatter and praise it.

Oh Dennis, but there’s no pleasing ‘I’.”

 

i try to stifle laughter, wonder if madness is contagious but i blurt the image that pops into my head.

“Imagine all the ‘I’ s dancing to center stage, wielding apostrophe clubs or exclamation point swords to kill the competition!”

 

She pouts,

“I’m serious.

When I tire of the constant battle of ‘I’ versus my values, my only solution is to be grateful.

Dreary old AA cliche, but it works.”

 

Oh how could i be so stupid!

Tweaking? Dabbling with recovery again?

 

“Arnie, I get grateful for my compassionate nephew Dennis who meets my shortcomings with, ‘it’s alright, Aunt Elaine, I don’t mind.’

Pretty Zen, huh?

He’s oversized, repeating the sixth grade for the second time.”

 

Her cold fingers warmed, some of the nail polish chipped away, she strokes the back of my hand.

 

i squirm, wait for complaints about hair on the back of my fingers.

 

Instead, there’s warmth in her voice when she says,

“He reminds me of you Arnie.

Hope he stays that way.

Without that hair, of course.”

 

Her eyes soften with a smile anyone else might mistake for shy.

 

My eyes fill.

Can my brows raise any higher?

 

“Arnie, I forgot to include my favorite word of all. It’s hackneyed yet insufficient, incomplete.

It’s ‘Love.’

I can pair it with the one letter of the alphabet that’s the antidote to ‘I’.”

 

i try to keep up but she’s worn me out.

i shrug a surrender.

 

“Oh Arnie, you’re kind, but slow, like my Dennis, but you’ll figure it out.

Let’s just go, walk off the

diner food that dumbed you down.”

 

She licks her thumb, wipes a bit of syrup from my face.

I pull back, wince.

 

Outside she remembers she left the scarf behind, sends me back to get it.

 

I step through the doorway into a welcome blast of heat. The scarf is puddled on the seat beside her scrawled ten word assignment. When i lift the scarf it carries the innocent flowery scent she’s worn since adolescence.

Oh well, it might fit again when she slips into old age.

 

Of course I’ll never tell her, but when i open the door the cold air hits and I finally realize the obvious.

 

That antidote letter to “I” is “U”.

Her convoluted way to tell me, “‘I’ ‘love’ ‘ U’”.

 

I grin even when the owner says,

“Hey, shut the god damned door asshole!”

 

——

 

 

Elaine Scott

English 400

Professor Lowenkopf

 

 

 

-I

 

-Compromise

 

-Forgive

 

-Kindness

 

-Compassion

 

-Dunno

 

-Accept

 

-Grateful

 

-And

 

-Grandson

 

Damn the ten word limit!!!!

Number 11: Love