Family Vacation

Have you ever thought that you’re crazy?

They have been driving for four hours. The Mackinac

Bridge looms ahead of them. She is terrified

of bridges, open water, falling. She cannot

swim. She will not ask him to drive.

Have you ever thought that you need help? This

is the most he’s said on the subject

of love. I’m just joking. You’ve lost

your sense of humor. Christ.

His hand reaches for her knee. He pushes

up the thin cotton of her sun-

dress, fingers the elastic of her underwear.

If I drive you could go down

on me. It’d be fun. Why don’t you

take a chance? The baby will sleep. He’ll

never know. Have an adventure

once in a while. Why do you have

to be so frigid?

The bridge is built to sway. This is what keeps

it from snapping.

Stop it, she says. Stop. He does. For

a while.

Once she asked him if he had

an inner life. What do you mean?

Like guts? My intestines?

The bridge is five miles

long. In St. Ignace, they stop

at a rest stop that sells Indian drums, rolling

papers, Petoskey stones. She buys a drum

for the baby who gums it, beats

it against the seat. She lets

in. He pushes

her head down, already un-

zipping his jeans. She does nothing

to stop him. She imagines water.

Waves. The great stones at the bottom

of the Straits.