#thenathanone

Image: Nathan One, Street lamp in #wroclaw

Author: Rob Withoff

Pretty sure I dated her in college. Though I don't think "date" was the right word, it was more that she'd come over to hang out and watch movies and stuff but more just wanted to sit in the chair in the corner and not be close to being touched.

When I'd make popcorn, I'd put it in a separate bowl for her. I started adding different things to the popcorn, like garlic, or pepper, or parmesan shake-cheese. I didn't let on that they were different.

One night, she finished her bowl, and asked me if there was any more. It was the cheese-and-butter combo. I made more, but I put it in a single bowl between us.

After that, I only made one bowl that we shared. We were very careful not to reach into the bowl at the same time, but after a while, we stopped watching, and while I had my hand in the bowl grabbing some more, she reached in and touched the back of my hand.

She jolted back like she had been shocked, and I tried to calm her, and let her know it was okay, that she could touch me, no harm, no foul.

I didn't see her for a couple of days, but she showed up at my door on evening with a box of Orville Redenbacher and some shake-cheese and a little plastic bottle of cinnamon.

I let her make the popcorn. She came out from the kitchen, and instead of sitting in her usual chair, she sat on the couch, putting the bowl between us.

The popcorn was pretty bad, way too much cinnamon. I choked it down, but I'm pretty sure she noticed that I wasn't as enthusiastic as she wanted me to be.

I didn't see her for several days after that.

One night, I got a knock at the door. I though she had come back, but when I opened the door, there was only a small paper bag. I brought it inside and opened it.

She had made a sculpture out of the bones of a small animal, or what I think must have been several small animals. I'd like to think that they were chicken bones, but some of them were definitely not, and I didn't wan to consider what they were.

It was beautiful, and elaborate, and baroque, but at the time I was kind of horrified and afraid of what she might do.

I threw it in the trash.

I never saw her again.

Once in a while, I'd find stray animal bones on my car, or in the mailbox. Still do, though I'm pretty sure now they're just random leavings from the critters that dig in the trash bins and need to hide to eat in comfort, and leave the rest.

She never told me her name.