Page 4 of Light Up The Night
I hesitate. "How do I feel about them?"
"Yeah, like, do you like them? Ain't been shoppin' in a while, so I don’t have much by way of fresh food, which means frozen bachelor shit is all I got."
I think it through. He obviously cannot mean literal nuggets of dinosaur meat, which is patently impossible—my brain tries to spin me off down a rabbit-trail of wondering what dinosaur meat would taste like. Therefore, he must be referring to chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.
"I enjoy both chicken nuggets and mozzarella sticks," I tell him. "Thank you."
“Cool. Comin' right up." He does not rise to his feet immediately, however. "You are one tough cookie, Cadence. I've had some gnarly fuckin' blisters, but those were the worst I've ever seen." He returns to the kitchen without waiting for my reply—not that I had one.
Gnarly—a fun, enjoyable word that puts me in mind of a California surfer with dried brine in his hair.
Gnarly.
I have gnarly blisters.
I wait for Riley to return and spend the time letting my mind wander from the word "gnarly" to dinosaur meat, to my bizarrely intense response to physical contact with Riley. With other people—men in particular— who have made contact with me, my response is to recoil, sometimes rather violently. Yetwith Riley, I do not recoil. I am uncertain if this means I enjoy the contact or not, but it is certainly unusual.
Before I can wander too far down that rabbit hole of thought, Riley enters the living room with a single red, square ceramic plate piled high with chicken nuggets and mozzarella sticks. He also has two small bowls, one filled with ketchup, the other with ranch.
"Here we go," he says, setting the plate and bowls on the low wood coffee table. "Now, drinks. I've got Diet Coke, beer, water, and a bottle of Crown Royal."
"I believe ice water would suffice, thank you, Riley."
"Boring! Two beers, you say? Comin' up."
"No, I said—"
He's gone already, though. I hear the fridge open and close, and then the crack-hiss of beer tops being wrenched off. He appears with two green bottles and hands me one. "Here you go."
I stare at the proffered bottle. "I…I have never had alcohol."
"Uh, is that, like, a religious thing?"
I shake my head. "Not exactly. It is a personal choice influenced both by my spiritual upbringing and by my own convictions."
He pulls the bottle away, clutching them both in his hand. "My bad. Hope I didn't offend you." He tugs a bottle of Spring Mountain from his back pocket, flips it dexterously, and catches it, offering it to me. "Water it is."
I do not take the bottle, however. "I do admit to a certain curiosity regarding the popularity of alcoholic beverages. Beer in particular has existed in the historical record since the days of Ur."
"Er? Er what?"
I giggle at his misunderstanding. "Ur. The Mesopotamian city, one of the first, if notthefirst cities in human record.Jericho and Gobileki Tepe are also contenders for that particular crown."
"Oh." He makes a face—impressed? "Beer is that old, huh?"
"Oh yes. Some of the oldest writings are recipes and invoices for beer."
"No shit?" He extends the beer to me. "Well, try it. I won't tell no one. 'Sides, one beer ain't gonna get you drunk."
Hesitantly, I take the sweating glass bottle. Sniff the opening—yeast, malt, and the sourness of fermentation. I take a sip. Shock rockets through me at the assault of flavors and textures, and I cough. "My goodness." I cover my mouth with the back of my wrist and cough again. "I am unsure how I feel about that."
He laughs. "Well, like my dad told me when I tried it for the first time, it's an acquired taste. Don't like it, don't feel obligated to finish it." He places the water bottle on the table beside my beer bottle.
"One must always give new experiences a minimum of three attempts," I say. "I shall try a few more sips." I gesture at the plate of food. "I have two questions."
I wait for him to reply, and he just frowns at me after a moment. When I continue to wait for his reply, he frowns at me. "Cadence?"
"You are supposed to ask me what the questions are before I ask them."
