|
Home |
Acuff, Gale |
Ahern, Edward |
Allen, R. A. |
Alleyne, Chris |
Andersen, Fred |
Andes, Tom |
Appel, Allen |
Arnold, Sandra |
Aronoff, Mikki |
Ayers, Tony |
Baber, Bill |
Baird, Meg |
Baker, J. D. |
Balaz, Joe |
Barker, Adelaide |
Barker, Tom |
Barnett, Brian |
Barry, Tina |
Bartlett, Daniel C. |
Bates, Greta T. |
Bayly, Karen |
Beckman, Paul |
Bellani, Arnaav |
Berriozabal, Luis Cuauhtemoc |
Beveridge, Robert |
Blakey, James |
Booth, Brenton |
Bracken, Michael |
Brown, Richard |
Burke, Wayne F. |
Burnwell, Otto |
Bush, Glen |
Campbell, J. J. |
Cancel, Charlie |
Capshaw, Ron |
Carr, Steve |
Carrabis, Joseph |
Cartwright, Steve |
Centorbi, David Calogero |
Cherches, Peter |
Christensen, Jan |
Clifton, Gary |
Cody, Bethany |
Costello, Bruce |
Coverly, Harris |
Crist, Kenneth James |
Cumming, Scott |
Davie, Andrew |
Davis, Michael D. |
Degani, Gay |
De Neve, M. A. |
Dika, Hala |
Dillon, John J. |
Dinsmoor, Robert |
Dominguez, Diana |
Dorman, Roy |
Doughty, Brandon |
Doyle, John |
Dunham, T. Fox |
Ebel, Pamela |
Engler, L. S. |
Fagan, Brian Peter |
Fahy, Adrian |
Fain, John |
Fillion, Tom |
Flynn, James |
Fortier, M. L. |
Fowler, Michael |
Galef, David |
Garnet, George |
Garrett, Jack |
Glass, Donald |
Govind, Chandu |
Graysol, Jacob |
Grech, Amy |
Greenberg, KJ Hannah |
Grey, John |
Hagerty, David |
Hagood, Taylor |
Hardin, Scott |
Held, Shari |
Hicks, Darryl |
Hivner, Christopher |
Hoerner, Keith |
Hohmann, Kurt |
Holt, M. J. |
Holtzman, Bernard |
Holtzman, Bernice |
Holtzman, Rebecca |
Hopson, Kevin |
Hubbs, Damon |
Irwin, Daniel S. |
Jabaut, Mark |
Jackson, James Croal |
Jermin, Wayne |
Jeschonek, Robert |
Johns. Roger |
Kanner, Mike |
Karl, Frank S. |
Kempe, Lucinda |
Kennedy, Cecilia |
Keshigian, Michael |
Kirchner, Craig |
Kitcher, William |
Kompany, James |
Kondek, Charlie |
Koperwas, Tom |
Kreuiter, Victor |
Larsen, Ted R. |
Le Due, Richard |
Leotta, Joan |
Lester, Louella |
Lubaczewski, Paul |
Lucas, Gregory E. |
Luer, Ken |
Lukas, Anthony |
Lyon, Hillary |
Macek, J. T. |
MacLeod, Scott |
Mannone, John C. |
Margel, Abe |
Martinez, Richard |
McConnell, Logan |
McQuiston, Rick |
Middleton, Bradford |
Milam, Chris |
Miller, Dawn L. C. |
Mladinic, Peter |
Mobili, Juan |
Montagna, Mitchel |
Mullins, Ian |
Myers, Beverle Graves |
Myers, Jen |
Newell, Ben |
Nielsen, Ayaz Daryl |
Nielsen, Judith |
Onken, Bernard |
Owen, Deidre J. |
Park, Jon |
Parker, Becky |
Pettus, Robert |
Plath, Rob |
Potter, Ann Marie |
Potter, John R. C. |
Price, Liberty |
Proctor, M. E. |
Prusky, Steve |
Radcliffe, Paul |
Reddick, Niles M. |
Reedman, Maree |
Reutter, G. Emil |
Riekki, Ron |
Robson, Merrilee |
Rockwood, KM |
Rollins, Janna |
Rose, Brad |
Rosmus, Cindy |
Ross, Gary Earl |
Rowland, C. A. |
Saier, Monique |
Sarkar, Partha |
Scharhag, Lauren |
Schauber, Karen |
Schildgen, Bob |
Schmitt, Di |
Sheff, Jake |
Sesling, Zvi E. |
Short, John |
Simpson, Henry |
Slota, Richelle Lee |
Smith, Elena E. |
Snell, Cheryl |
Snethen, Daniel G. |
Stanley, Barbara |
Steven, Michael |
Stoler, Cathi |
Stoll, Don |
Surkiewicz, Joe |
Swartz, Justin |
Sweet, John |
Taylor, J. M. |
Taylor, Richard Allen |
Temples. Phillip |
Tobin, Tim |
Traverso Jr., Dionisio "Don" |
Trizna, Walt |
Turner, Lamont A. |
Tustin, John |
Tyrer, DJ |
Varghese, Davis |
Verlaine, Rp |
Viola, Saira |
Waldman, Dr. Mel |
Al Wassif, Amirah |
Weibezahl, Robert |
Weil, Lester L. |
Weisfeld, Victoria |
Weld, Charles |
White, Robb |
Wilhide, Zachary |
Williams, E. E. |
Williams, K. A. |
Wilsky, Jim |
Wiseman-Rose, Sophia |
Woods, Jonathan |
Young, Mark |
Zackel, Fred |
Zelvin, Elizabeth |
Zeigler, Martin |
Zimmerman, Thomas |
Zumpe, Lee Clark |
|
|
|
|
|
Who’s Going to Pray for Me
Now? by
Niles M. Reddick The deputy who called shared that you’d gone to
the restroom to pee, that your jeans had fallen to your knees, that your arm and hand were
outstretched and propped on the wall, a brace that didn’t hold unlike the spec homes
you’d built for Habitat after hurricanes along the Gulf. They said you couldn’t
go because your kidneys had stopped functioning and filtering, and within a short time,
your heart stopped, and you were gone. I wondered if that was what death was like—an
incredible urge to pee and the sweet relief of finally going. I imagined you flew through
that sheetrock and roof, looked back down on yourself all humped over with muscle
turned to flab like a cicada shell stuck on the limb of a tree. After I wiped tears, the
first thing that came to mind was who was going to pray for me now that you’re gone. I remember that
long ride to see you in Texas in Daddy’s Ford LTD with the pop-up headlights and
fender skirts I thought were so cool and didn’t understand why car companies stopped
making them, or the white wall tires that were hard to keep white. Daddy made me put
white shoe polish on them when we couldn’t get oil stains off. I remember Nana trying
to act like riding in the back seat didn’t bother her, and since she never drove
and never trusted Daddy and certainly didn’t trust him after that car was passing
others on our side and was headed straight for us, how she kept punching her floorboard
with her foot from the backseat to stop, and how Daddy’d said, “If they want
to play chicken, I’ll show them who the king of the road is”. Daddy sped up
until he side-swiped them, and we landed in a shallow bayou, an alligator swimming close
to the front of the car, and Nana out cold because the iron skillet she had to bring because
“I ain’t gonna scramble no eggs in a new-fangled pan Joe bought from the Sears
and Roebuck catalogue”. At first, we thought she was dead until we saw the iron skillet
had slid off the back-deck window and landed on her head. We only stayed a few days
because y’all fought when drinking hard liquor, you a Chevy man and Daddy a Ford
man who got mad when you said Ford stood for “fix or repair daily”, and the
ride home was miserable because we were crammed in that Japanese compact, but it was the
only rental Daddy could afford because his insurance didn’t cover rentals. You and
Daddy didn’t talk much, and you didn’t come visit even when Nana died from
that brain aneurysm, and you called and said you couldn’t believe she was gone, that
she was stubborn, Daddy was just like her, and it was her own fault because of that damned
skillet she brought to Texas that had knocked her out and later paved the way for her aneurysm.
You thought it was ironic that Nana died quickly and at home since she never got in another
vehicle after she got back from Texas, walked to the grocery store and to appointments,
and certainly wouldn’t have gone to the hospital in an ambulance. I am happy you
quit drinking, got saved, and prayed for me every day. Sometimes, I could feel those prayers
like a gentle breeze giving me comfort from the blistering heat, the same way
you described a breeze when you could still put asphalt shingles on a roof
before you slipped, fell, broke your back and had to take disability. I was
happy you prayed for Daddy, and even though he only drinks Schlitz at night when he
curses and damns everyone in Washington to hell, he still drinks Crown on the weekends
and eats his eggs from Nana’s skillet with the big spoon because he can’t hold
them on a fork since he has tremors. I’m praying for him like you prayed for me,
but it doesn’t seem to take hold, and I’m hoping you find Nana and come for
him when he takes his last sip, which may be soon because if he curses me one more time
while I’m over here on the sofa minding my own business, I may take that skillet
to his head. “Who’s Going
to Pray for Me Now?” originally appeared in Issue
#20 of Anti-Heroin Chic in April 2021. Niles Reddick is author of a novel,
two collections, and a novella. His work has been featured
in twenty-two anthologies, twenty-one countries, and in over four hundred
publications including The Saturday Evening Post, PIF, BlazeVox, New
Reader Magazine, Citron Review, and The Boston
Literary Magazine. Website: http://nilesreddick.com/
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Site Maintained by Fossil
Publications
|
|
|
|