White Pages
by Kevin FisherPage 3 of 3
My call's not returned, but I pass my civil service exam. They call me about a design job at the airport. It sounds great. I can design anything I want as long as it's not too tall. But it won't start for a couple months so I'm still cleaning apartments.
And then one day in the middle of cleaning the mold and mildew in someone's shower with a toothbrush I found, I answer the door and there she is. Mikey gave her the address. I invite her in, and I pour us beers from their fridge and we sit on their terrace.
"So you like Colette?" I say. "Yeah, " she says. In all the preparation I forgot to actually read Colette. " She's French, right?" is all I can say after what seems like ten minutes. And we sit there drinking our beers.
And I wish I'd been listening when Mikey talked about Colette because I can't think of anything to say. And I find myself sitting in the sun thinking about kissing her again, and wonder if we could use the diaphragm in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Then I see she's playing with their dog and waving, saying goodbye. She leaves and I go back to cleaning the grout in the shower and their dog gives me a look as if to say even he would have known what to do.
Kevin Fisher
is actually mostly a playwright. His plays (Back in Five, America First, Houston We Have a Problem and Playdate) have been performed at the Ensemble Studio Theatre, Naked Angels, the Adobe, Dixon Place, Here and Westbeth Theatre. His screenplay Under My Skin won the Independent Feature Project screenwriting award. His play Legal Alien (Urban Stages) was produced in NYC and The Monkey Room (Magic Theatre) was produced in San Francisco. Kevin lives in Boreum Hill and works during the day for the AIDS research advocacy organization AVAC.
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