Free Lifted by the Great Nothing: A Novel by Karim Dimechkie

have a roof over your head and plenty to eat and people who love you so much.”
    “Thank you,” he whispered, though he didn’t understand her regression. Hadn’t they exceeded this baby talk? Hadn’t she been discoursing on world politics and ethics just this morning, convincing him of a more socialized world where we take care of those born with a lesser lot in life? It was perplexing to admire her ideas but despise her physical company.
    “He’s seen dead people before, you know? Women, children, you name it. He’s been there.”
    “What?”
    “Your dad. He knows about death. The things we see in those movies, he knows them firsthand. That’s why he doesn’t want to be reminded.”
    “Oh.” He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah.” He wondered what his father could have told her thus far. It took Rasheed twelve years to impart any specifics to his own son, and Kelly hadn’t even been here a month.
    “He knows about losing people. Close people.”
    “Yeah.”
    “His wife. And lots of others.”
    “His wife.” The ceiling felt like it was slowly lowering. “My mom.” It wasn’t Max and his father’s private story anymore.
    “I think so, honey. I think so. He told me about the time she invited a peasant into their home to teach him how to read and write. Sounds like a remarkable lady. Her dad was so pissed off when he came home to a street man sitting with his daughter.” She laughed.
    Max didn’t know anything about that. His mind conjured up an image of a bathtub running over with blood and dirty dishes. “Did he say anything else about my mom?”
    She wormed her body closer, clearly in the mood to feel needed. “Honey, I really don’t know much about the story. You know he doesn’t talk about that stuff. But I’ll ask him for you, okay, sweetie? I’ll tell you everything. I promise. I love you. I love you just for being you. You don’t have to do anything but be yourself to be completely loved by us. Isn’t that lucky? Wouldn’t it be beautiful if everyone could have that?”
    “Thank you. Yes.” Conscious of his erection again, he felt her presence become intolerable. Even her body heat felt invasive and dirty to him now. He lay unmoving, as if he hid between a whale’s jaws; the smallest movement would cause her to snap down on him. He suppressed an urge to scream. She perceived his discomfort enough to release him, but didn’t leave.
    “I don’t think I can sleep,” he said, meaning, Because you’re here .
    “Just try, honey. Just close your eyes. I know it’s hard.” She brought her arm over to hug him again and accidentally grazed his penis through the blanket. She pulled away as if burned by it.
    “Sorry!” he said.
    “No, no, that’s okay, honey. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. That’s really normal. It’s fine.” The honor in her voice repulsed him. It was like this when I woke up! It has nothing to do with you! he wanted to yell. He just wished she’d leave. Instead, she said, “You know, when I was your age, my mother made me feel ashamed of that kind of stuff. She told me those urges were evil. And that was wrong. She made me feel so—unclean and alone.” She brought her face closer to his. Her breath was sharp and everywhere. “There’s nothing shameful about your urges, Max. You’re allowed to feel that way, and you’re allowed to relieve yourself too. You know that, right?”
    He couldn’t possibly respond. Why was she talking like she was being helpful?
    “Wait. Do you know how to relieve yourself?” She said. “Have you let yourself do it before?”
    This he couldn’t answer intelligently either. Of course he knew how to relieve himself. But out loud he resorted to the quick shirking response he always gave when supremely uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”
    She lay in silence for a while before eventually sighing. “Okay. That’s okay. What you can do is rub it against the bed, up and down. You’ll sleep like a baby right after, I