Dionysia

5

Denny rocked his head back and forth on his desk chair, fiddling his fingers to I Write Sins Not Tragedies by the popular rock band "Panic at the Disco!" that Denny loved. Their songs helped him feel energetic for the day, even though times were rough right now. Still, he resonated with the song title, albeit the lyrics were mostly about a failed marriage.

Fixing one of his earbuds that was slipping out, Denny kept typing on his MacBook, perusing lists and lists of available jobs near the area. Another tab was open, an incognito tab, where Denny had researched a bit about river routes to Tulane, what the buzz on drinks was, and other details he needed to know before the operation proceeded. For now, getting a new job near the college was his first priority.

No dice, he realized, remembering his options were limited ever since the incident.

A few days passed since it happened, the humming sounds of the load hopper still ringing in his ears sometimes. It was why he blared rock music to the max, hoping to drive them out. Then, images of the amputated hand would resurface in his mind. Denny watched dozens of YouTube videos on his phone to drive them out.

No dice.

How could he forget something so awful as that? How could he go through the day, sleep, and wake up the next morning like nothing ever happened? Even now, everything he was doing was only to pass the time, a fruitless pursuit. There was no job he could gain in such little time, especially now that the incident was on his record forever.

Which is why I decided the plan was a go, Denny told himself. All dis is a cover-up, a way to tell pa that I'll recover from dis an' help the family out.

As the song ended, Denny browsed through for the next one, skipping and skipping. Something irritated him as he kept skipping tracks, a voice nudging him to talk with Louis about the situation. He had dodged it up until now, fearing that his pa was ignoring Denny as a result of the incident. Yet, now that the plan was underway, there was something he needed to ask his pa for it to stick.

I won't be able to drive anythin' across da Mississippi if Martin & Sons goes out o' business, Denny figured, scratching his chin. Last I remember, pa was adamant on selling it. How am I gonna get him ta change his mind?

Still, Denny had to do something, else it would eat away at the back of his throat. Like a vulture, Denny wanted to pick at the last of his chance for sensation, until there was nothing left. Whatever it was that he felt before, he had to accept it for now, even if it was unclear.

Making up his mind, Denny disconnected his earbuds, stuffing them into one of his desk drawers. He shut down the MacBook, stretching his arms and legs systematically.

After all, he'd gone into a routine now, in order to keep his parents satisfied.

He peered out the bedroom window, noticing it was close to dusk. It was about time that Louis would get back from Harvey, where he was working a few hours more than usual because of the circumstances. After dinner, pa would usually be in the garage working on some other project, mostly modifications for their tugboat. Perhaps he could talk with him then.

In the meantime, Denny walked out the door and hustled to the kitchen, where Aurelia was sifting up some grillades and grits. Moments later, Louis, Manny, and Percy sat down at the table with them, where they started eating in silence.

Well, until ma gave pa the usual "How was your day, honey?" and pa would say, "Fine, dear, how was yours?" Then, the conversation shifted to ma mentioning that they needed to refill groceries from the market downtown.

"I'll go!" Denny exclaimed, diving into the meat cutlets first. "The usual Piggly Wiggly, right?"

"Yes, the one near the high school," Aurelia responded, "But go to Westie's Meat Market, right down the street, for our meat. The ones at Piggly Wiggly are too tough sometimes."