In the dirt, under the floorboards of a shed, Inside and out; Grubb can’t tell if it belongs From the bottle of rum he finds in a corner.
At the last second, Grubb jumps into the weeds to avoid getting run over. When he looks up again, the pick-up truck has stopped. A fat man with no shirt on stumbles out and he waves something in his hand as though he has just won the lottery. The man's skin is red and blotchy from the cold or maybe from some ailment that has made him drive this way, Grubb can't be sure. But he knows for certain he'd like to kill the man for nearly running him over. He steps up and out of the weeds at the side of the road in order to do just that. But he pulls up short because he can see the man's mind is not functioning properly. The man is panting, out of breath with excitement, and he keeps waving the object around in his hand. He asks Grubb to sell him his shirt because it is cold and he feels as though someone is peeling the skin from his body. Grubb sees that the object is a credit card and he thinks, what am I going to do with that? He remembers the time he went fishing and pulled a coat from the river. The coat had rocks in its pockets, and Grubb was disappointed because he thought he'd caught a fish to keep him fed for three days. But it was only a coat and he wondered who had worn it into the river like that, with rocks in the pocket, and why? Now, the fat man has become obsessed with the appearance of his skin. He drops the credit card and begins to pull at the excess, to pull and shape it between his fingers. He says, I saw this once, in a museum. Grubb snatches up the credit card, and while he's at it, takes the truck. He jumps in, accelerates down the road. Grubb thinks you give things away from bad luck and then they come back again, but they're different. You've got to be able to spot them. Five miles further on, he stops at a gas station. He buys a tin of deviled ham and a picture of Jesus he doesn't really want. He leaves it on the front seat of the truck and sets off down the lane behind the station, on foot. The sky is dark in that direction. Grubb opens the tin of ham and dips into it with his fingers. The ham tastes like the sound of ten thousand birds escaped from the bell of a trumpet. |
Fresh Out of Squab
The inmates wander around in the rain. They seem to be looking for something in particular. Their eyeglasses, maybe. A treasure map. Grubb thinks someone must have left the back door open. He stands at the fence and watches them move about in their white and yellow robes. A handful spot Grubb and head in his direction, pausing along the way to whisper among themselves. The hospital stands on top of a hill, its windows barred and only very few of them lit. The oldest man wants to know if Grubb has any liquor, if he has seen the wild goats that frequent this place. The man’s beard is white and he picks at his teeth with his finger. Grubb hasn’t seen any wild goats, but just on the other side of the river, there is a woman who stands naked in the front window of her house. That’s a lie, says one of the inmates who gathers his robe more closely around his neck. He explains why no woman would stand naked in the window of her house, and his argument relies on an elaborate geometry. Just then, someone rings a bell on the back porch of the hospital and everyone shambles off in that direction. Grubb asks the inmate with the white beard what they’re having, and he thinks the man says goat, but he’s too far away to be sure. Grubb hurries back down the road to the bridge and across the river. The woman is still in the window. A dozen children have gathered in front of the woman’s house, and they make room for Grubb only reluctantly. He motions to the woman from outside, says, put on your robe, I have an idea. But she acts now as if Grubb isn’t even there, as if he has become invisible. The woman brushes her hair. She sits on the couch and reads a book.
-- first appeared in Jubilat
Grubb. The Collected Grubb Tales (37 in all). These poems first appeared in The Iowa Review, Threepenny Review, Jubilat, Mid-American Review, Cream City Review, The Texas Review, and others. Purchase a print or downloadable copy here.
