Michael Estabrook

ANSWERING MACHINE

“Pat hi, it’s me, pick up. I thought you were
there, guess not. Where are you? Where could
you be, my dearest? See you tonight then,
8 o’clock at our normal place, bye my love.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing on my
wife’s business answering machine. I came
home early from work to mow the grass. Who
was this man’s voice on my wife’s answering
machine? I played it again, “it’s me … see you
tonight … our normal place … bye my love.”
My heart, like a racing steam engine, truly
nearly pounded right out of my chest. Where
was she going tonight and to meet whom? How
could I find out? I couldn’t ask her, she’d have a
lie ready. Somehow I needed to follow her, but
then again maybe not. Do I really want to know
the details of the ruin of my life? I’ll kill this guy,
is all I can think, I will. I’ll have to kill this guy
for taking my wife from me. The courts will
understand. Adultery is truly a disgusting,
cowardly crime. I could never hurt her of
course, but him, well I’ll simply have to kill him,
soon as I find out who he is. Then I woke up
shaking and spent the whole day wondering if I
am a good husband, even bought her flowers on
my way home. (And checked her answering
machine when she wasn’t looking.)

—from Rattle #20, Winter 2003

Michael Estabrook

THE FISHERMAN, THE GULLS,
AND THE BIBLE PEOPLE

I’m minding my own business trying to read
Leaves of Grass on the beach at about 9 a.m.
when these two guys with beards and long hair
and cigarettes dangling from their mouths,
these two fisherman, pull up in a motor boat.
They toss in an anchor, drag four really big
fish, two Sea Bass, I think, and two Blues,
onto the clean pure white sand and cut them
open. A pile of glistening red guts spills out
there for the gulls to get. Then next to me two
pretty young women with wispy blonde hair,
scanty suits, and a little blonde boy spread a
blanket and start rubbing suntan lotion all over
each other’s smooth backs and legs and
tummies (to drive me crazy no doubt). They
start talking all about the Bible reading they’re
planning for the Watch Tower people. Jesus.
The gulls, a whole flock of them, find the pile
of guts and begin squawking and flapping and
squabbling like people do and in a minute or
two the guts are all gone and so are the gulls,
leaving me alone here on this beach with these
two Bible people and the little boy.

—from Rattle #23, Spring 2005