Edgar Allan Poe’s great love, Annabel Lee, lives two blocks down from me. She’s older now and wears curlers in her hair. She sits on the bench in front of my apartment, and when I walk outside, she greets me with news each day.
“Hi Annabel, lovely weather,” I say.
“A man was shot just down the street last night. His entire family, too. He had a daughter, and they even killed the dog.” Annabel replies.
“That’s horrible,” I say.
“We’re just lucky to be alive,” she says, looking away at nothing.
“Well, have a good day, Annabel!”
“Uh-huh.”
Mr. Poe must have been mistaken when he wrote of his beloved’s horrid fate so many years ago. I don’t believe that any wind could kill the Annabel Lee that I have come to know. I don’t believe that anything could kill her at all. I once saw her slap a pigeon from the sky with her corn broom.
When Annabel Lee sits on my bench, her shoulders roll forward, and the jeweled broach pinned to her cardigan rests on her large left breast. She wears wool socks of varying colors, and she always tucks her blouse into her long skirt. Her head is never without its beige headscarf, tied perfectly in a small knot at the top of her scalp.
Sometimes late in the afternoon, or very early in the evening, Annabel Lee is accompanied by several women resembling her same costume. The three or four of them take up my bench in a casual performance, shouting at strangers with arrogant familiarity.
“Tuck your shirt in, boy!” Woman #2 says.
“Kids these days, I tell you,” says Woman #3.
“Uh-huh,” Annabel Lee adds.
Yesterday, I was sitting at my desk at the living room window, and I could hear Annabel Lee’s voice rising with the early morning sun. A recent change in her scenery was causing her discomfort.
“That girl is going to get a ticket. Eight-o-clock is comin’ around and there’s going to be a ticket right there on her windshield. Yes, ma’am, that girl is going to get a ticket, probably fifty-five dollars!”
Her accomplice’ voice was not as recognizable, and although I could not make out specific words I could understand that the voice was agreeing with her. The humidity started to stick to my teeth, and I could feel Annabel Lee’s anger becoming more intense.
“Hey, girl! Come here!” I heard her shout.
I stood up and poked my head over the top of my desk to glance at the scene below. Annabel Lee had finally encountered the source of her misery, and I had a front-row seat.
The young woman was tall, about 5’ 10”, and wore a blue dress that clung to the unmentionable portions of her body. Her neck was decorated with a long, silver necklace that bounced from clavicle to clavicle as she paced over to Annabel Lee. Her flip-flops matched her earrings.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I want to know why your car has been parked on my block for over four days now,” Annabel Lee responded, looking directly at the girl.
“I’m visiting a friend, lady. Why do you give a shit?”
“I just don’t see why your car is here when it has never been here before,” Annabel replied.
“Why don’t you mind your own business?”
Anabel’s face became red, and I thought for a moment that she might even stand up.
“Miss., I don’t know you. I don’t know why you carry that black bag around and I certainly don’t know why your car has been parked on my block for five days. But I tell you, I don’t like it, and I will see that this problem is resolved.”
The young woman’s mouth fell open, and her eyes widened with each word that Annabel spoke. She understood that she was being disrespected.
“You’re a bitch, lady,” was all she said. She turned and walked away, and as her long, silver necklace danced upon her cleavage, Annabel shouted to her words of encouragement.
“Your car will be towed as soon as you park here again you damn huss!”
I turned the kettle on, and I could hear Annabel simmering below. It was 7:45 in the morning and a warm wind passed through the kitchen and ruffled the curtains. I ate a bowl of oatmeal with blueberries and walked into the bedroom to change for work. The red blouse I had planned to wear was badly wrinkled, so I buttoned up the yellow one instead.
Annabel was gone by the time I walked outside and locked the door behind me.
XXX
Her cat-eye frames were glistening in the afternoon sun as I arrived home from work. When she spoke to me she started from the middle of the sentence, as if the recipient of the conversation had already read the epigraph to her musings.
“Then I told the girl that she had better leave, or I would call the police (pronounced pōˈlēs),”
“I see that her car is still there,” I said.
“That’s what I’m saying!” Annabel exclaimed. “Her car is still here but, where is she?”
“Maybe she’s gone to work?”
Annabel turned to look at me as if I had just woken her from a good dream. Her pupils dilated, and the corners of her mouth bent South.
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“Alright well have a good night, Annabel,” I said as I turned to unlock my door.
“Uh-huh,” she said.
XXX
I awoke to the sound of shouting. It was early in the morning, and I fumbled to find my glasses on the bedside table. What’s happening, I thought as I clicked on the lamp and pulled back the curtains. The entire scene unfolded in several minutes.
The People:
Police Officer
A police officer. Thirty-seven, average height and slightly overweight. He has a newborn at home, and his eyes are low and tired.
Young Woman
A young woman. Twenty-four, tall and blonde. She’s at the end of her rope, but she never liked climbing anyway.
Annabel Lee
Eternal Baltimore resident. Seventy-one, plump and coarse. Her husband built the bench that she sits upon each day. May he rest in peace.
The Scene:
It’s early in the morning. The sun attempts to rise, but dark clouds impede its progress. A lamp light shines over the Police Officer, the Young Woman, and Annabel Lee, casting dense shadows into the sidewalk. A large tow-truck idles stage right; the driver smokes his last cigarette.
Act One:
Young Woman
You don’t understand; I’m getting them renewed next week. I just don’t have the money yet.
Police Officer
Your tags expired five months ago, why didn’t you renew them soon?
Young Woman
I just told you! I didn’t have the money. I’m getting them next week once I get it all together.
Annabel Lee
I don’t buy it; I don’t buy it. Why are these tags from Florida? Are you from Florida?
Young Woman
(hysterical)
Why are you doing this to me?! What is your problem, lady?
Annabel Lee
Officer, her car has been parked here for several days, expired tags and all. She pays no attention to street cleaning. I see her comin’ and going’ all day.
Police Officer
Okay, Annabel, thank you. I have this under control. You can go back inside.
Annabel Lee
Like hell I’m going back inside!
Young Woman
(crying)
Fuck you, lady! You’re an old, lonely lady who doesn’t have anything better to do. Fuck YOU!
End Scene
XXX
Annabel was sitting on the bench when I walked outside.
“Hi Annabel,” I said as I locked the door.
“Will you just look at that,” she said. “Her car is still there.”
“So, she’s decided to stay?” I asked.
“Who knows,” Annabel said. She smoothed the top of her skirt politely and gazed into the street ahead. A pillar of resilience, an avalanche of fury, a permanent sear in the purple speckled galaxy.
“Well, I’ll see you later, Annabel, have a good day!”
“Uh-huh,” she said.
Non Epiphany 