And we stared like that, until all the ice cream was gone and all the wine was drunk. And then we stared some more. And we might still be sitting there staring at each other now, all these years later, if Clarity’s phone hadn’t come in with a text message.
“It’s from Purity,” Clarity says. “She wants to meet us at Fresh Cut Fries.”
“What’s Fresh Cut Fries?”
“It’s number 62..on your map.”
“Can’t she meet us here?”
“No. They have chicken strips. She wants chicken strips.”
The three of us sat under a canopied table and Clarity and Purity chattered incessantly while I looked beyond them to a suspended looping rollercoaster with a Batman theme, and beyond that to the low scrub hills of southern California. It was one of the perfect sun moments of my life. One was on a beach in Santa Barbara, where I felt my mortality and thought, if it was going to be in a place like that, it would be ok to die. This sit I had with Clarity and Purity under the canopied table with the Batman rollercoaster and the hills of southern California close in the background—that was another of those perfect sun moments.
I mean there’s a reason they make movies out here—the weather is goddamn beautiful. It’s almost worth the traffic and the smog and the fake-ass people and the west coast’s interminable meth problem to live here. Almost. I thought of them tearing down Six Flags because there were too many Latino shootings and it seemed like such a waste, such a major, major undertaking—but Six Flags had probably already made its money back and then some, and moving an entire amusement park to an all-white area was just a sound financial decision. I imagined every rollercoaster, every ride, every restaurant, every bathroom, razed to the ground. I wondered if they’d break up the concrete and plant trees or if they’d just leave all the concrete hills and walkways as the ultimate skate park.
“What are you thinking about?” Purity said.
She put her hand on mine.
Purity and Clarity’s family is touchy-feely—mine is not. Years later Purity invited me to her bed and we dry humped and almost had sex but she stopped it at the last minute. I was mad at her for like half a day.
“I’m just thinking..about those hills. And how the geography of this place is part of what makes it beautiful. I mean this Six Flags wouldn’t be the same if right over that fence there weren’t those low hills with all that green grass and scrub brush. It’s like the most perfect part of America, this little table with this particular view.”
“See,” Purity says to her sister. “I told you he’s a poet.”
“How can you not be?” I say.
“Yeah, I thought you were just gonna be some boring computer guy, but you turned out alright,” Clarity says.
“So you two are making out alright?”
“Yeah,” we both say.
“Alright, well Cheryl wants to try me out in some different poses for her boss—”
“Where is her boss?”
“He’s in Florida. Cheryl’s using her phone’s camera to send him copies of the Polaroids.”
“He’s probably jerking off in his office,” Clarity says.
“We’re not making porno pictures,” Purity says.
“They looked pretty porno to me,” Clarity says. “Matt. Could you get off to Purity in her Wonder Woman costume?”
“Probably, maybe, I don’t know,” I say, distracted.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m just having my daily mid-day crisis where everything overwhelms me and I sink into a puddle on the floor of my own analysis.”
Clarity puts her hand on my knee and to be honest I wish these girls would stop touching me. I feel my cock harden as undeniable proof that I am attracted not only to Purity but now to her younger sister as well. Even more so, after spending half a day with her. But this story doesn’t end as a fairytale in that manner. I don’t get the girl. I never get either of the girls. And as time goes on, as I get fatter, as I get crazier, I get fewer and fewer of the girls. But it’s ok, because they become less attractive to me, too—less principled, less compassionate. The women I meet as life goes on have so compromised themselves that I would rather be alone forever than to spend a night with one of them. Basically I go “crazy” and the disgusting segment of our society goes on fucking their brains out with no Earthly idea why they are doing so.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m ok, I just think—don’t you think people are becoming less principled?”
Both girls look at me confused.
“Well look I have to go.”
Purity is standing.
“We’re just gonna take a few more pictures and then we can get out of here. Maybe we can get some real food, a bottle of wine..a good movie,” Purity says for my benefit.
She looks at me and waits for an answer.
“Ok,” I say. “Sounds good.”
Clarity and Purity hug and Purity prances off across the concrete walkway and through some wooden fence that will shortcut her back to the costume area.
Let me flash-forward to many years later—to now. About that time that Purity and I almost had sex, I’m glad we didn’t because I know, from our conversation on the phone afterward, that it would have just been that one time, and I’m not into that. I’m not a sex tourist, like, I wonder what it would be like to fuck so-and-so. Purity and I were good as friends, and if we had fucked, I don’t think it would have messed that up—we would have still been friends. But it would have been pointless, and it would have created a little something extra for us to work through to remain friends.
With Clarity, even though we only spent one day at Six Flags together, and that was almost the only time we ever saw each other, I know if we had fucked that I would have moved to Phoenix or she would have moved to LA. I always liked Purity, from the moment I met her—and I still do. And when I met her sister for five minutes in Phoenix that one time, I had no interest in Clarity. But after one day at Six Flags—and, yeah, I know, I’m a romantic and all you people will think I’m crazy and everything—but after that day at Six Flags, I discovered that in a love way, I liked the younger sister better than the older, and I liked the older sister very much.