Happy Baby by Stephen Elliott

me at his post at the door.
    “Get out of here,” he says.
    The parking lot is empty. “You can’t do what you did,” I say.
    “Leave us alone, jackass. We’re happy. Don’t try to interrupt us.” He’s not afraid of me at all. I brush my pants and feel where the gravel has cut my hands. Joe is buttoning his shirt. He doesn’t think I’m going to do anything, and I realize that he’s right. The night out here, on the edge of nowhere, nothing but the sounds of a taxi making the rounds. Everybody is either in the bar or home asleep. In the whole world it’s just me and Joe.
    My wife sleeps quietly in the bed. The room is full of her breathing. Then she moves, exposing her pale ankles. She’s questioned her decisions before. Sometimes she says that maybe being a lawyer wasn’t the best idea for her. I pull the belt from my pants and place it on the dresser. Take my shirt off, my pants. Stand naked, watching my wife. I pick my belt off the dresser. I watch her movements. Watch her wake up. Her small eyes opening slowly. The way she looks at me. Naked, with a belt in my hand, in front of her.
    “I want you to tie this belt around my neck,” I say, the belt hanging limply over my hand. “And drag me around with it like a leash. I want you to choke me. I want you to spit on me. I want you to slap me and call me names.”
    A wave of panic crosses Zahava’s face and then leaves. “What are you talking about? Turn on the light.”
    “Please,” I say.
    Zahava considers my words. “I have to be in court tomorrow. Come here.” She slides down to the end of the bed. I hand her the belt and stand in front of her, turning around, pressing my fingers into the wall. I hold my breath and then the belt whips across my back. I feel the sting and my mind goes blank for a second, the warmth of pain covering me as my breath returns.
    “It’s OK,” she says, rubbing her hand over where she’s just hit me, tracing the welt with her finger. Then the belt lands again, then again. My back burns. She hits me five times and then she stops. She pinches a bit of my lower back and twists.
    “Ow. Ow.”
    “Now let’s go to sleep, sweetness.” She’s touching me, her hands at my waist.
    I sit down on the floor and Zahava sighs. She slips from her blanket and her feet are on either side of me and I place my head in her lap, my arms around her waist.
    “What’s happening to you, Theo? You know?” She’s awake now, as calm as a lawyer. “You’re not acting like yourself. I know you like these things. So what? People need different things.” She pauses. Zahava has a sour smell. “People need their attorneys to be on time and to be rested as well. Don’t be selfish. Please.” I press my face into her pubic hair. She keeps saying things like, “What happened tonight? Did something happen?” But it’s like she’s talking through water and I can’t hear a word she’s saying. And I’m thinking about where the highways will take me.
    “Why do you cheat on me?” I ask.
    “Hey,” she says. “Hey.” Now she is really pulling my hair, trying to get me out of her, jerking my head back and forth. “We’ve been through this before.” She’s looking me square in the eyes. “Just stop it.” I keep my mouth shut.
    “Please,” I say quietly, rolling my bottom lip over.
    She lets go of me and I drift back between her legs. The smell of Zahava’s legs, her thighs against my cheeks. How she smells inside. She’s so thin I can feel the bones in her legs. I feel the pressure of her fingers against my scalp. “Enough, Theo.” She’s trying to pull me up and I’m resisting, pushing my face further against her vagina. “You’re selfish. You know? You never think of anyone else.”

CHAPTER FIVE
GETTING IN GETTING OUT
     
    THERE’S A LARGE woman in front of me in a white dress with dark flowers. She smells like baby powder and she’s holding the hand of a small girl whose red hair is scattered across her shoulders to