Views and Mechanics Publisher's Note Editor's Note Review of The Pittsburgh That Stays Within You Review of If Instead of Apes We Had Come from Grapes Review of Anson County Review of Dissolution of Ghosts Crossword (Solution Posted in July. Printable version in pdf format of journal.) Mar/Apr Crossword Solution Creative Nonfiction 1998 By Samuel Hazo Booing the Pope By Matthew D. Taylor Sgt. Robert Starbuck, USMC: Elegy and Essay By John Guthrie Shrink Wrap, Diet Cokes and a Kazoo By Sara J. Ford Poetry And the Time Is By Samuel Hazo In His Winter By Wanda D. Campbell Lester By Thomas Reynolds Generation Gap By Valerie Lauria Stanske Two Poets By Gary C. Wilkens Mongolia, 1930 By Gary C. Wilkens Fiction A Death in the Family By John Speeking Letters By Suzanne Abbot Among the Briars By Pat Tompkins Filling in the Angles By Jessica DelBalzo Miss Mary By Beth L. Block Cover Art Photography by Seth Brown About the Contributors © 2006, River Walk Journal and respective authors and artists. All rights reserved. Do not use or reproduce without permission. River Walk Journal, Inc. Board of Directors Chairman - Elizabeth Ross Vice Chairman - Joseph Koch Secretary/Treasurer - Geri Stock-Ross Editorial Director - Patti Kurtz, DA Literacy Director - Bill Mausteller Policy Director - PA State Rep. Jess Stairs Advisory Board Chairman - Patti Kurtz, DA Asst. Chairman - Dan Lachenman, PhD Samuel Hazo Christopher Leland Edwin Yoder Joseph Bathanti Journal Staff Publisher - Elizabeth Ross Editor-In-Chief - Joseph Koch Sen. Fiction Editor - Patti Kurtz Sen. Poetry Editor - Neeldhara Misra Sen. Creative Nonfiction Editor - Brenda Coxe Contributing Editor - Robert Dittman Publicity Director (PA) - Geri Stock-Ross For information about submissions, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/submission.html. Questions about promotions, subscribers' services, and advertising should be sent to publisher@riverwalkjournal.org. River Walk Journal, Inc. is a non-profit corporation run entirely by volunteers. For information about volunteer opportunities and internships, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/volunteer.html. |
Twist of Fate “I have herpes,” Ryan (not his real name) said, as I felt my mind scramble for an appropriate response. “Uh, I’m sorry…” my response seemed hollow. “It’s alright. I consider myself a poster child for it. If I got it, well…” it was almost a cheerful reply. I know I said more, and probably tasted feet a few times, but it was difficult to wrap my mind around the concept. One of the only men I had been involved with after graduating high school and who hadn’t shared my bed had an incurable STD. Worse was the fact that I was silently thanking myself for not sleeping with him – for dodging that particular bullet. How could I think that even when I knew he had become infected long after I had been involved with him? *** think I’m going for a walk now I feel a little unsteady I don’t want nobody to follow me ‘cept maybe you I could make you happy, you know if you weren’t already I could do a lot of things and I do A little under fifteen years ago, I was considering how to maintain a relationship while Ryan was on campus in the city. I don’t remember what the argument was, but I do remember walking barefoot across Forbes Avenue in the middle of the Carnegie Mellon University campus to get the key to Ryan’s dorm room so I could retrieve my shoes. The girl with me on this little walk had designs on him, and if I’d known it while we crossed the campus, she may have found herself falling under the wheels of a moving bus on the avenue. The next twenty-four hours were a blur, except when I found out the girl who had been so nice to me had been in bed with Ryan. Proving my recklessness or just plain stupidity, in under a month I was sharing the bed of a guy who lived down the hall from Ryan, scorning the one he’d tried to “set up” for me. Now, I’m still friends with Ryan, and the girl who slept with him and the guy I used for revenge are long gone - but not from either of our memories. *** When Ryan said he had herpes, I did as I always have done in situations where I was unsure of the information I had rattling about in my mind. I started reading on the subject. The perception of being somehow unclean is still a little difficult to overcome even though I know very well that having HPV, the herpes virus, is not a sign of promiscuity or unhealthy behavior, per se. It can be spread even when practicing safe sex - although this circumstance is relatively rare. Experts state that about one in four Americans have genital herpes, but most are unaware of the infection because of mild symptoms or misdiagnosis. Remembering the Sex Ed. Course I had in high school, it bothered me that when I first learned about the illness, I had been misinformed. We were taught that the illness caused obvious open sores. Particularly for women, it was never mentioned that symptoms could be mistaken for a yeast infection, for example. “Did you know who gave it to you?” the question burst from me - in spite of trying to keep it within. “I have my suspicions, but I don’t know for sure.” Even knowing about the virus, I couldn’t make his response ring true for me. Eventually it did - it is possible for someone to have the virus, not be aware of it, and pass it on. Even now, I regret asking Ryan if he knew who infected him – the question adds to the perceived stigma. “I explain the risks when the time is right,” he answered my unasked question. I don’t remember what I said in reply, but my thoughts remain clearly in my memory. It was good to hear that Ryan hadn’t decided to isolate himself entirely, and adopt a life of celibacy. I honestly couldn’t imagine what he would be like if he denied himself the possibility of intimate relations with anyone. If nothing else, I knew in my heart that I still loved him, not in the way I had when we had tried to be together, but in a deeper, more meaningful way that was reserved for my very close friends. I wanted to see him happy - and I knew his happiness was tied at least in part to love relationships. *** so fuck you and your untouchable face fuck you for existing in the first place and who am I that I should be vying for your touch who am I bet you can’t even tell me that much “You can’t lock yourself away. Not over a girl,” my patience was running thin. It was bad enough that I was trying to calm Ryan after a break-up – even worse that the green monster in me was screaming to be let free. Ryan remained silent, or if he said anything it had no more consequence than silence. I already had the only information that really mattered to me – the name of the one who had taken the girl from Ryan. Within a month the “other man” had lost his virginity to me, and had left the girl who had hurt Ryan in the dust. My little victory fell flat when at a concert I tried to flaunt my success just a little. Ryan didn’t acknowledge what I’d done as being connected to him any way. *** My thoughts turned to potential reactions from my other friends. I cringed as I heard their responses in my mind. No doubt at least a few of them would be upset that I hadn’t encouraged Ryan to choose celibacy – they would hear the word herpes, and liken it to the plague. Sadly, I was doing the same, but not in the way they would. Although having genital herpes alone does not compromise the immune system, the symptoms can leave a person more susceptible to becoming infected by HIV. *** out on the porch the fly strip is waving like a flag in the wind you know I really don’t look forward to seeing you again soon. you look like a photograph of yourself taken from far far away I won’t know what to do I won’t know what to say I saw Ryan with his wife, but I didn’t say to him that I saw the signs of the demise of that relationship in her eyes. I intentionally didn’t look him in the eye to see if the same shadow dwelled in him. The conversation we had has long since disappeared in my mind to my cemetery of forgotten words and thoughts. It is one of the few times when I honestly devalued words in the face of emotion – or the absence of it. To their emotional voids, the maelstrom deep within me was stark contrast. The feelings I had for him long ago were alive and well – they were merely hidden in his absence. I know I said nothing of those ghosts being summoned – every word said that night would have been seared in my memory forever had I done so. *** For eighteen years Ryan and I have known each other. Most of that time we’ve been the kind of friends who rarely speak, but when we do, it is as though our last conversation occurred yesterday. The fact that he has herpes came out during our latest reconnection, as did the settling of the past. Initially I was guilt-ridden for thinking that I was after close to two decades - because of fears about his illness - finally extinguishing the flame that kept me thinking “what if Ryan and I hadn’t split?” When we finally agreed that there was mutual love between us, albeit not a romantic love, that guilt dissipated. We are as we were meant to be – for now friends who can be secure in the thought that no matter what happens, there is at least one other on this earth to lean on. * Lyrics excerpts from “Untouchable Face” by Ani DiFranco. Elizabeth Ross Disclaimer Note: The views and comments conveyed in this article are exclusively those of the writer and in no way reflect, in whole or in part, the official or unofficial views, attitudes, or beliefs of River Walk Journal, Inc. |