Jeremy, by Gerardo Sámano Córdova
Filial is not the word. Can’t fathom the word. Vile, trial, juvenile. Not the words. The true word roams, but I can’t lip it. Spit it. Bestial! That’s it. We’re bestial, hijita—my daughter and I. Jeremy, my daughter. Jeremy will pounce, is what I’m saying. And we will eat the men. We wait outside a bar at well-past dusk.
We are monsters but not always monsters. I recount everything, or it will slip-slip-slippery. Shoop out of my brain. Our brains are goop. Jeremy’s and mine. Bear with me and forgive me, ma fille. Hija. Hijita. I want you to understand. Know we’re monsters, but never always monsters.
We squat at well-past dusk. Outside the eatery. Bar. Quiety-shh behind a car. The neon blinks off.
Fzzt.
Out.
Out come the men, rowdy brawny men, bouncing drunk, two men. Bouncing. Jeremy crisps, but I tight her to me. Not time, wait, I lip. She is eager. Much ready. Famished is what she is. We both are. We have not-any food for half-fortnight. Wait, I lip again, but the limit to her waiting reaches. The brawny men bounce too close.
Smell them.
Flesh and sweat and bold-running blood. Globulous. The taste is drugs.
Thunk. Jeremy leaps onto the car hood. Jeremy! she roars glorious, not furious, famished. A brawny man escapes. Run, dash, flee and hasten. Hurry, speed, and zoom! The words rush back to me. I recite them happy. The words haven’t quit. They hide only. Jeremy claws one brawny man. Gnash and thrash. A kill. We must-eat. Must-eat to survive and what we must-eat are brawny men. Jeremy kills the men.
Jeremy has a before-name. A name before our brains transmogrified. Became goop. Her before-name escapes. I can’t lip it, write it.
I taught the gorgeous words. Once.
Numerous words float in me. Woefully, I only speak words that elbow to the no-goop part of my noodle. Noggin.
Words taste tart.
Other words float, lovely words, but I can’t utter them. An instance: Jeremy’s before-name. Lovely words never taste––they never elbow ways to my mouth. Words I can’t lip fasten to my stomach, claws in. Words like fat ticks. Teethed inside my insides. They hurt.
Jeremy, too, forgets her before-name. She forgets all-words. Forgets how to speak them. Quite. Quite. M’hija. She’s lovely. Ma fille. Roarious. Glorious. She lips Jeremy now. Jeremy this, that, and the other.
Jeremy! she lips, bloody with brawny blood.
A stuffed piranha was Jeremy. I am one father. The other father gave our daughter Jeremy-piranha. Dead-as-vacuum husband. Mine. He was mine. He gifted her the piranha. Eons past. ¿Cuánto tiempo? Beaucoup. Muchomucho. Plentyplenty. Jeremy-piranha is like another son. Stuffed. M’hijo piraña. Mon fils.
The piranha rides with us.
Discolored. Big like a melon. Eyes to the sides. Stupid eyes. Scatterbrain eyes. Scatterbrains like our noggins as goop. Jeremy embraces Jeremy-piranha close to her chest alloftimes.
Not when we hunt. Not in hunt. No.
When we hunt, Jeremy-piranha stays in van.
Jeremy slurps blood. Yum-yumming the brawny man we eat. She is small. Fearsome. Hair brown to her butt. Wet vinaigrette eyes. Alive, so alive.
Human flesh tastes like cow.
Richer.
Infinitely richer. Human flesh holds ever more than cow flesh. Memories and loves. Families and hurt. Much like dirt and mushrooms. Roots digging deeper than beets. Nothing tastes like humans.
A human reeks of own-self-aroma. Particularly.
Aroma that glues to teeth. Sticks. We can’t gargle it gone.
Most times, it’s delicious.
Light glows far into the street. A billion goldfish swim in it. Jeremy belches boomingly. Rubs belly.
She clasps my arm. Jeremy, she lips. Alerted, alarmed.
Jeremy hears more excellently than I. Crackling. Asphalt black like piranha eyes. The kick of autumn leaf. In the goldfish light, the man does not swim in it. This man is not brawny. Beanstalk, a sauntering stem. The man carries a stick-weapon. Ay! He will hurt us. Jeremy growls. I unfold scaredy. Ready. Prepare, Jeremy. Ready, I lip.
The man inside the goldfish light launches with arms up. Help. He’s wild like us! He lips as a fish, words in bubbles he can’t blow to us. I lip better, lip gracefuller words. I practice. I lip the words so they will not slip-slip-slippery.
What? You want what? I lip. Leave us. Dash away.
Beanstalk Man releases stick-weapon to the ground. I eat, he says. I eat. Please! This very last word he howls. Wild like us. All his will to get a word out. Please! Hasn’t forgotten to plead. I wave a flashlight. We must-eat late-night, otherwise they can hurt us. They will attack. Can’t survive. Troupes hunt us. We’re very secret survivors and can’t eat in sunlight. Shoo. Shoo. Away. Shoo, I lip the Beanstalk Man. He doesn’t shoo but approaches. Kneels to us, head low. I shine the flashlight heavy in Beanstalk Man’s eyes. Pupils shrink-a-dink.
Like Deer.
Dear.
Very much dear. Soft in truth. Like us. Como mi hija y yo.
The man’s cheeks dip inside his mouth, below patchy face-hair. Shakes. Shivers and shudders. He is a sad, famished Beanstalk Man.
Eat. Ok. Ingest. Eat, I lip.
The man bites into a brawny arm. Daintily.
But hunger is powerfuller. Hunger holds no daintiness. The Beanstalk Man gnaws and slurps. Greedy-greedy. Jeremy gnaws and slurps seconds. With a full-belly, I sit away. Let them gnaw. I hum to not hear the chew. Despise the raw chew. After the Beanstalk Man and Jeremy are satisfied, much (but not very) remains of the dead brawny man. Brawny men must last much nights. Self-control. We attempt to not eat all the brawny men.
We are not always-monsters, ma fille.
Beanstalk Man crab-walks away. Thank you.
Jeremy, Jeremy lips, takes Beanstalk Man’s hand. Pulls. Jeremy, she lips me. Jeremy jeremy. I only guess my daughter’s lipped jeremys, but I get better at guessing. Jeremy, she lips me. Eyes twinkles and sparkles. Today, they are not shadows and grief.
Jeremy! Jeremy lips and wheels an invisible wheel round and round.
Ajá! The van. Our home. I drive us away, never to stay in one village too very long. They kill us. Find us. Clobberclobber. The knowledge of driving has not left me, but the knowledge slips.
I will dissolve.
Not Jeremy. Jeremy remains. But I will dissolve, hija mía.
I have crashed. Small crashes, more lately. I forget the pedals. Jeremy is aware. More aware than father-me. Not other father. Other father died long ago. Eons. What knowledges Jeremy keeps? Her father Eks? Eks dissolves as I dissolve.
Fish swam around her when Eks orphaned us. Fish of light in her room. A lamp for the night. Word-memories build me. No more words, and I will collapse. Jeremy has no words and she stands up-up. Jeremy. Ma fille. Hija mía.
Beanstalk Man lips, I drive. Nods very enthusiastic.
No. Absolutely, commandingly. No, I lip.
Jeremy, Jeremy lips as a sing-song. Her vinaigrette eyes. Lovely.
A car growls past on an away road, but not too away. I spring. Lip: Hasten. Get food. Hasten. Men come. They return and come back. You, Beanstalk Man, shoo. Shooshoo. Beanstalk Man stays.
I retrieve ice boxes. Jeremy gnaws the brawny man into pieces. Beanstalk Man gnaws too. We fit the brawny-man pieces inside ice boxes. Carry them to the van. Beanstalk Man, gracias. Goodbye. Thank you. Goodbye. Auf wiedersehen. Bye. I flick limbs like a mosquito.
Beanstalk Man disobeys. Sits inside the van. No permission. Desperation is permission. Please! he bubbles, like a fish.
Outout. Get out.
Jeremy, Jeremy lips. Eyes bulge out. Embraces Jeremy-piranha like Eks embraced Jeremy. Face to chest. We will need Beanstalk Man.
Not I, but she.
Hurts. Pain like words teethed to intestines.
I will dissolve. Goop. And she’ll be alone.
Finefinefine, Beanstalk Man. Come. No nonsense. Hear me. No nonsense.
What fool! Stupid dolt. Eks. Leaving. Figured we could squeeze wild out. Ha. Fool. Nincompoop. Eks—our now vacuum, suck-suck-sucking.
Ice, I lip. I also drive. I will not crash.
Am still helpful to Jeremy.
Ice? Beanstalk Man lips.
Ice for brawny men. To keep them.
The air is nice. At dawn. We find a freezer outside a store. Must be outside or they will see us. Kill us. Clobberclobber.
Jeremy waits next to the lot. On a patch of grass like Beanstalk Man’s face-hair. Jeremy flies Jeremy-piranha to a cloud. Successful, she squeals when she catches it. Giggles-giggles. Not roarious now. Jeremy-piranha flies high. Highety-high. Still a child. She deserves the sun, too.
Beanstalk Man giggles. Hee-hee-hee. He is almost a child. His belly shakes and shivers like Jeremy. Come, Beanstalk Man. Come-come. Ice. Beanstalk Man stands guard. Spasmodic. Eyes wide. Hands wringing. I pilfer the freezer, one with a flimsy lock. Crowbar, all body weight. Snap. Easy as pizza.
Alarm! Alarm! Beanstalk Man lip-shrieks. A woman in floral legs bursts forth. She pushes a cannon to us. To our noggin. Hey! You gonna pay for that?
Jeremy! Jeremy! I lip-scream. Run. Flee. Dash.
Beanstalk Man slides the door to the van. Windmills his arm. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, calling to us. I know better. Jeremy will attack the woman with legs of flowers. Jeremy knows to survive. But Flower Legs has a cannon. Teeth, wild and great as they are, cannot, will not, match a cannon.
Jeremy snarls. Nevertheless regardless.
What the fuck? Are you wild? Flower Legs lips. Tell me now, you wild?
Flower Legs aims her cannon at Jeremy. Ma fille.
Hija, corre.
I tackle Jeremy. Cannon-blast grazes back of my shoulder. Jeremy kicks on the ground. Ferocious. Ready. A drop of my own-very-own blood slithers millimeter, millimeter down her cheek.
Jeremy wipes.
She will eat me now. I think, but only a fly-second. Buzz. Only a stupid fear. Jeremy sees her fingers red. She ceases scratching, growling.
Jeremy? she lips. Face pillowy like a cloud. A rain cloud. Jeremy?
Fine, I say. I’m excellent. Go. Run. Very much fast. Ready? Ready?
Jeremy, Jeremy lips. Points to patch of grass. Jeremy-piranha stays limp. Away. You dash. Yes? Yes, Jeremy? I retrieve Jeremy-piranha.
Jeremy shakes her head.
Trust me. Trust me. Yes.
Jeremy nods. We incorporate. Jeremy runs to the van, fastfast. I jump to the piranha. Cannonblast whooshes again. I fall. I’m not blasted a second go. I think. Flower Legs will try again. The dolt.
Beanstalk Man sits behind the wheel. Drives to me. Flower Legs reloads. I throw myself into the car. Fucking monsters! Floral Pants lips. She venoms. Destroys our windshield with cannon-blast. Beanstalk Man roars us out into the highway. We are live-alive.
Beanstalk Man crashes into trees not too much far away. He, too, confuses pedals. I crawl out of the van. A narrow slit of grass. Wide for me. Gracias. Then trees, trees, trees. Beanstalk Man bleeds from his noggin. Not very too much. Jeremy doesn’t bleed. I yank my coat and shirt away. To the trees they go. Jeremy kneels. Embraces me.
Ay! I lip.
Beanstalk Man walks whirly. Vomits at the roots of a tree. Jeremy pours water on me. I open my mouth to catch.
Flood me, I lip. On the cannon hole. Flood. Flood.
Jeremy pours and blows air to my skin. Eks did this. Before. To her. To scraped knees and elbows. Hole profound? I lip.
Jeremy, she lips, shrugging.
Can’t see?
She shakes her head.
Hurts. Copiously, I lip. I slump on the grass. Roll to the non-holed flank. Jeremy strokes my noggin. My hair is long now. A bush.
Jeremy? Jeremy lips.
I’m excellent. Finefinefine, Jeremy. No worry. Listen-listen. No worry. Yes? Super-duper. All super-duper.
Jeremy covers me in my own-very-own shirt and coat.
Jeremy, she lips, like an order.
No. No sleep. Awake. Can’t sleep.
Grass pricks my face. Underground wetness moistens me. Lovely, lovely dirt.
Beanstalk Man collapses. Broken. Folded on a root. Jeremy leaps to him. Lifts his vermillion noggin. He sputters. His words can’t find their way out. He growls, words do not bubble from him. Can’t lip them. Spit them. Jeremy floods water on him. Wipes blood away ginger-ginger.
I crawl to Jeremy and Beanstalk Man. Beanstalk Man growls more. More. Teeth glare. Beanstalk Man relinquishes. Weak. Beat. He surrenders. Jeremy, away! I lip. Jeremy! Jeremy lips. Wipe, wipe, she does.
Blast-blast-blast. Curses! Beanstalk Man will be always-monster now. Renounce us. Try to eat us.
Jeremy, away. Away!
Jeremy growls at Beanstalk Man. A scanning growl. A question. Beanstalk Man growls back. Not a question.
I attempt to pop-up.
Can’t.
Jeremy pops me up. My legs work. Somewhat.
We board the van. The van is pure wreck. Detritus. Won’t start.
Adiós, van.
Come, Jeremy. Run. Flee!
Jeremy scratches van’s seats. Floor. Jeremy?
Jeremy-piranha gone. I failed grasping him. Forgive me, I lip. Forgive me. Jeremy! she lips and squats. Ferocious as if in hunt. There is only me to hunt. Me and Beanstalk Man. Beanstalk Man rises from collapsation. Fingers curled, he will attack. Jeremy, halt! Jeremy, no! I tight my daughter with my limbs. Chest. Stomach. Noggin. Stay, Jeremy. Please. Hija mía. Listen-listen. Halt. Please.
Jeremy! Jeremy lips. She swoops a free arm to her chest. Embraces the nothing-air. Jeremy, she lips for Jeremy-piranha. Chest out. Throat torn empty. My father-heart hurts. My father-heart I have not surrendered.
Beanstalk Man lunges. Nevertheless, however, he is too new a monster. Trips. The dolt.
Away. Come, Jeremy.
Before he recovers. Before he learns.
Jeremy, she lips. A smoke of a word. Quickly. Poof. Gone.
Jeremy kicks the leaves of this forest. We lost all, both of us. But not us. We remain. Draw? I draw Jeremy. Yes-yes? I lip.
Jeremy, she lips. I guess: Yes.
I pick up a leaf. Smooth out on my knee. Shoulder hurts, but can’t matter. Long nails help me draw on the leaf. My hand doesn’t remember to draw. I draw regardless nevertheless. Slow. Move in the two curves of a piranha. A fin. Fangs humongous like Jeremy-piranha’s. I hand Jermy-piranha to Jeremy. Jeremy-piranha, I lip.
Jeremy inspects the leaf. Traces the lines with her own-very-own finger. First unsure. Timid. Then she tights the paper to her chest.
Forgive me, I lip.
Jeremy, Jeremy lips. Pats my shoulder.
Ow.
Jeremy?
Finefinefine. Heal in time. Yes. You see. Some time. All super-duper.
Jeremy traces Jeremy-piranha’s lines once more.
Dolt. Me. I am the dolt! Replaced Jeremy-piranha with a leaf. Foolish fool. Leaf is flat. No heft. No flesh. She hugs the leaf regardless, nevertheless.
We retrieve Jeremy-piranha, I lip. At once. We go. Come.
Jeremy shakes her head. Never be back to where we been, she knows. Forward only. We go, I lip. We do not lose more. No more. Ever. Come-come, Jeremy.
Jeremy lets leaf Jeremy-piranha fall. Glides-glides down.
Jeremy! she lip-screams. Gleeful. Joyful.
While my words still elbow into my noggin, I am here. I want you to understand, hija mía. Know we’re monsters, but never always-monsters. Onward, I lip.
Gerardo Sámano Córdova is a writer and artist from Mexico City currently living in Brooklyn. He is the author of the novel Monstrilio. His work has appeared in Apartmento Magazine, Catapult, The Common, Passages North, Chicago Quarterly Review, and others. He holds an MFA in Fiction from the University of Michigan. Gerardo has also been known to draw little creatures.