Yellow Mama E zine

Talk to the Hand

    by Heidi Lee

 

         Jeanie reveled in being the center of attention and cared nothing for collateral damage.  
         “Look, if I touch him here . . .” She brushed Julian’s cheek lightly with her finger. “I can make his face match my shirt.”  Julian, flushed, scarlet as her crop top.  
          “Maybe I’ll wear green tomorrow.” She left with her giggling gaggle. 
         Julian’s friend Phil patted his shoulder, “Come on, man, let’s get lunch.”
         Julian shook his head, turning towards the Anatomy lab. “Last day with Priscilla; I’ll skip today.”
         “But it’s Thursday.”
          Julian shrugged and left.
         Thursday—the Cafeteria’s Banger-and-Mash Deal—, also famous for the Jeanie Special. During this weekly performance, Jeanie, feigning ignorance of her rapt audience, idly scrolled through her phone, while her other hand selected a sausage. Tonguing its tip, she slowly rolled it around her pursed lips. Then, nibble, suck, nibble, she worked her way down the shaft, finishing with a flourish-lick of thumb and index finger before starting again.  
           Most of the boys took a break after lunch.


          Julian had made the mistake of daring to ask Jeanie out in their freshman year. She’d looked at him as if he was dogshit on a shoe.  Who did this scrawny, nerdy guy think he was, with his scruffy stubble and fresh pimples forming above his collar? Wrinkling her whole face in shock, she’d said, “Eww, No.”  
          When poor Julian persisted, she stopped him, palm up. “Talk to the hand, Juli’, cos’ this face ain’t listening.” Thereafter, he was her regular torture target.


          This past semester, Julian had worked long, late hours in the Anatomy Lab on Priscilla, his cadaver. He muttered to himself while he dissected, repeating mnemonics for nerve branches, confirming paths of tendons, ligaments, arterial and venous vessels. Alone in the lab, he rehashed his days out loud with Priscilla, considering what he might have done better.  
           Today he told Priscilla about the blushing incident.
           Priscilla said, “I have a plan for Jeanie the Meanie.”  
          Julian, working with a small firm-bladed scalpel, dug into her middle finger’s metacarpophalangeal joint. Cutting easily through skin and subcutaneous fat, he exposed the tendons and the joint capsule, then, inching through the tough tissue, he freed the digit. 
          Finished, he covered Pricilla with a sheet and slid her back into the refrigerated drawer for the last time.


         The following Thursday, in the cafeteria, Julian stumbled into Jeannie as she moved to her spot. “Oops, sorry Jeanie.” 
         “Dickhead,” she sneered. 
         Jeanie bent to pick up her book bag and he righted her tray, setting it on the table.  
         The show began. One sausage down, she felt for another. Licking its tip, she paused and looked up from her phone, puzzled. This sausage was yellow, cold, and wrinkled.  Turning it over, she saw the fingernail and shrieked. Lurching away, she gagged into a trash can.
          Julian smiled as he left the cafeteria, hearing Priscilla’s giggle. “You gave her the finger.”
          “I’m going to miss you, P.,” he whispered.


       Heidi Lee worked as a psychiatrist for 30 years and has been writing on the side for a long time. In the past two years she has committed to knuckling down, finishing and submitting her work. Her first publication was “Something’s Up With Frankie” in Issue #113 of Yellow Mama.

     Heidi loves Yellow Mama as the content appeals to her twisted mind.

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     Hillary Lyon founded and for 20 years acted as senior editor for the independent poetry publisher, Subsynchronous Press. Her horror, speculative fiction, and crime short stories, drabbles, and poems have appeared in more than 150 publications. She's an SFPA Rhysling Award nominated poet. Hillary is also the art director for Black Petals.