something i wrote the other day
on floods, levees, and other things immeasurable
we knew the levees were bullshit. i mean, any person who grew up in new
orleans knew that the levee was where you went to make out. the levee
has/had nothing to do with safety. (this levee you speak of will betray
you). the levee where i would drive with my mom after the orthodontist
appointment and eat po-boys and watch the water and she would say,
"wow, it seemed like this levee was taller when i was a kid." it was -
the levees were sinking. into the lake, into the marsh, into the oily,
black mud that stuck between our toes in the boot of the water ski. you
get used to it.
floods. i used to like them. wading with my
rolled up levis and my bare feet and my aluminum foil. we would make a
boat and we would float them until the sewer would suck them down. and
then we'd make more. we only had to come inside if there was thunder
and lightning. how lucky we were, i thought, that our street made a
pool on the humid summer days. and the next street over did too. and so
did the next.
when i moved to new england to go to college,
everything was crisp and my skin cracked because it's only known
humidity. my nose bled. i realized for the first time in my life that i
was not brown. i was white under my year round cajun tan. i talked with
a drawl and people assumed i was stupid. i went home for christmas and
ate red beans and rice and gumbo every day for three weeks. i drove to
the levee after a night on bourbon street. sat on the steps and
listened to the music coming from the cars and from the bars and i
wondered about my high school friends - if they still came to the levee
to make out, to get knocked up or if, like me, they had been revelling
in dorm room beds and no parents and beer. i also thought about lunches
with my mom and the incredible sinking, shrinking levees.
years
later, recently, when we were evacuating from new orleans to houston in
preparation for katrina, i had a conversation with my brother that went
something like this:
me: well, kiss this city goodbye
neil: oh, it'll still be here - you can't kill bad grass
me: well, i didn't say kill. i said flood. i said we'll be swimming back. when's the last time you looked at the levee.
neil: the other day when i was fishing we drove out there - (sad, sad look on his face)
me: yeah. kiss it.
neil: (denial) are you following us? we gotta go now before the traffic gets too bad.
me:
(after a fight about whether i was gonna ride out the storm or not)
yeah. i'm followin you. i'm not riding in the car with those screamin
kids of yours.
we ALL knew. we knew we knew we knew!!! why
didn't they just ask US?? we all could have told you the fucking levees
were not gonna "function properly" they were half way in the ground for
chrissakes. duh!
a few weeks ago - the floods here in the north.
i cannot tell you how i felt because i shut it out. i would lie in bed
at night and stare at the walls and think a serious, ridiculous
thought..."do the floods follow me????" and laugh - as if i have that
kind of clout with the gods. i turned it off inside my head - NO MORE
TALK ABOUT FLOODS! is all i could hear. she would keep talking about it
and i would keep my mind focused on the window or the door. and i would
think, "doesn't she know i can't fucking hear one more word about
fucking floods??" but it's not her fault. cause she didn't know.
because no one knows. no one knows i wake up in cold sweats still
surrounded by black, oily water that smells like my room and floating
around me are my words on paper and when i go to pick them up them
slide between my fingers and disappear. i could not be present for
floods. i have my own to deal with.
i flood. my body betrays my
mind and gives me away before i am ready. it hasn't always been that
way. but now you will wipe me across my leg and on the sheets and there
isn't one thing i can hide when you are wiping and i am flooding. it's
an unintentional but necessary cliche.
floods. levees. the things
that fail us are existential. you can find them in my bed or you can
find them in the landscape. universal fears. trite. cheezy.
debilitating. betrayal.
i'd like a homeopathic dose of fear -
like curing like. so that next time there is a flood, there is also a
levee breach along side (me) so that it's not as much about levees
failing but more about something bigger than you. and me.
bigger and beautiful-er.
