What can YOU say in six sentences?
marvin’s entire body was pressed into the floor of the deer stand, and the grate of its surface reminded him of the rolls of fencing frank kept in the yard at the back of the hardware store, next to the mulch, and how at night, when downtown had closed up, they would stand among the links and wires and feel unbounded, and sometimes marvin would slip his fingers into the spaces among the taut cables there and squeeze his hand closed to feel the sharp ridges that told him of frank’s sometimes harsh hands, and it reminded him too, of later the way frank would take him by the wrists and pin him to the wall in the office in the hardware store there in the spot where marvin felt afraid they would turn over the copier and get caught.
it was a game, perhaps.
frank liked to laugh at that, and they would drink bourbon and take turns shoving each other around in a rolling desk chair, whizzing past the hammers and hasps and trays of PVC joints, the only light being cast by the streetlights as it meandered through the rows of merchandise.
then frank would sit on a workbench and marvin would slouch in the secretary’s chair - until frank would come and touch marvin’s jaws, with his thumbs pressed firmly in the tender spot under marvin’s chin, and he would tell marvin how to take down his pants, exactly the way he liked it, as he stood there over marvin, giving orders without saying a word. frank would keep that pressure under marivin’s chin, tilting marvin’s head almost uncomfortably back, holding him firmly along the sides of his neck and using that pressure to direct marvin’s movement.
that specific memory was what called marvin to the gun, the loss of that special guiding pressure he had felt and loved, and the way he almost got it back as he pushed the nose of the gun up under his chin, and the missing fullness he felt again in his mouth, when he placed the barrel of it inside, and let his tongue warm the steel.