
Heartburn
Rachel Armistead
Ivan and Eleanor live next door. Our houses sit side by side on Monticello Avenue like a palindrome: house, grass, driveway, driveway, grass, house. They are retired and spend a lot of time in their yard. Eleanor kneels on a foam gardening pad and tends the roses that line their front walk. Ivan waters his lawn by hand in the evenings. Sometimes my mom goes out to chat and I watch him wave the sprayer back and forth in the waning light. Their lawn is much greener than ours. The only time our yard gets water is when we run through the sprinkler on really hot days. I often lay in their yard and watch the sky and listen to Eleanor weed her flower beds. For my fourth birthday, Ivan and Eleanor gave me a special invitation to have lunch at their house. I've had a proper bath and traded my usual swimsuit for a red and white dress my mother made for me. My hair is combed and braided, and I have shoes on for the first time in weeks: little white sandals that velcro at the ankles and over the toes.
Walking into Ivan and Eleanor's house is like entering a cave. The dark, wood-paneled walls dampen the sun shining in the front window. The deep brown of the coffee and end tables turns the blue of the sofa from sky to dusty. There is an octagon-shaped lamp stand next to Ivan's armchair. It has a cupboard with a brass handle full of toys and games I imagine are just for me. I open it up and grab the red plastic barrel and dump the bright blue monkeys onto the carpet. Ivan grunts as he bends to join me, giving me a kiss that smells of second-hand cologne. We take turns stringing monkeys together until Eleanor calls us for lunch. She helps me onto a chair and kisses the part between my two braided pigtails. My hair is pulled tight, and I can feel her lips touch my scalp. Ivan reaches over to help me 'doctor up' the steaming bowl of chilli in front of me. Would you like cheese on top? Yes, please. Would you like onions? I am not sure I like onions, but my mother said to be agreeable and remember my pleases and thank yous. ... (continues)


