Jezus In the Backseat
by Meg Pokrass
Tara Googled a movie of a naked man standing on a fire pit and not screaming. Smiling. She didn't know how he did it. She Googled "man standing on fire and not dying" and she Googled "schtick". Nothing came up. Tara went to bed after that and could not sleep—and the next day, she agreed to the contest, which was running barefoot to the recycling cans in Ginny's yard. It was a trap, and old Ginny won.
Tara thought she would never agree again to a contest, would be just fine if she had a different, less girly voice, a lower voice—and the rest of her would make sense then. The full breasts and wild hair that people said was kinky. If she could stop squeaking when she tried to argue, also.Maybe it was about having porcelain skin and looking fat in five mirrors out of five. Why did she think her stepdad was watching her put on blue sparkle shadow in the hall mirror when it would take a flood to rise him from the recliner? His one shoe off, his bad foot swollen and raised, the TV remote on his lap. Did he think she would even try to grab it? Tara's mother on the night shift and her makeup case loaded like fishing tackle.
Ginny was acting impressed, because they got picked up in a car that belonged to Jezus's parents. Tara could see the Jezus shit right away, the minute she saw his long hair. The dude said "let there be light," when he saw Tara. He was her booby prize. His smile looked like hell on earth. The car smelled like honey and cat food.
Ginny got the one with the Brazilian accent. Christ Almighty asked Tara if she'd ever worn a water bra. Tara said to herself, "kiddo, kiddo" as she took what he gave her from his hands. She hoped they were clean. Next, his paper lips over her shoulders because he was "impressed" with all he could see.
She let the son of God unhook her land bra. Her wireless bra, she joked, but this guy did not know how to laugh. Mostly they did know how to laugh, but this one was too loony. And his hair seemed to come off in her fingers.
He had such low eyes and green shadows on his cheeks. The Brazilian and Ginny were giggling outside of the car and Tara was lying in the back seat. She would do this for all the people in the world who never ever won contests. She was fine already, a naked waif in God's eyes. Tara said this to herself—and like her mother coming home to a sleeping drunk man in the TV chair early in the morning, she would not grit her teeth.
Meg Pokrass's story "Leaving Hope Ranch" in Storyglossia was chosen for Wigleaf's Top 50, 2009. "Lost and Found," in elimae, was chosen in May 2009 by Storyglossia for Short Story Month showcase. Meg's stories and poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Gargoyle, Gigantic, Annalemma, 3AM, Monkeybicycle, The Pedestal, Matchbook Lit Mag, decomP, Pank, JMWW, Mud Luscious, Juked, Pindeldyboz, Smokelong Quarterly, Wigleaf, elimae, Keyhole, and FRiGG. Meg serves as a staff editor for SmokeLong Quarterly. Her blog, with prompts and writing exercises can be found here: http://www.megpokrass.com.