<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had my wisdom teeth taken out at age 27, and I guess many people would say that\u2019s a little late in life. All four teeth were impacted and needed immediate withdrawal. And at 27 years old, I had no wife or girlfriend or even a friend to care for me after the surgery. So, I drove up three hours north to my Dad\u2019s. <\/p>
Now, I don\u2019t know if you\u2019ve ever had all four wisdom teeth out at once, but it\u2019s a rather unbearable situation. My father drove me back to our house with dark-red drool dripping out my mouth and tears falling down my face.<\/p>
At home, my Dad gave me two ice packs which I held alongside both cheeks like a sandwich. I swallowed my prescription pain meds. I missed my old dog. I missed my mother \u2013 that\u2019s why I didn\u2019t visit him too often. It was too quiet, too bare.<\/p>
\u201cHow about some Simpsons<\/em>,\u201d my dad suggested, setting down my Jell-O and pain pills on the coffee table. I made a sound of agreement, unable to fully form words. <\/p> He inserted the disc, but it didn\u2019t read. He wiped the back of the DVD with his shirt and pushed it in the tray again. Unreadable. We always watched the Simpsons <\/em>as a family. My dad muttered under his breath and stood still in front of the TV. He stared down at his feet and his back shuddered back and forth like a burnt-out motor \u2013 I knew he was crying. I hadn\u2019t seen him weep since my mother\u2019s funeral.<\/p> He whispered, \u201cI should\u2019ve taken better care of you, of your mother.\u201d <\/p> I wanted to hug him, to tell him it was fine, but I was too high and hurt to move my legs or mouth.<\/p> \u201cAren\u2019t you going to say something?\u201d He asked over his shoulder.<\/p> \u201cI can\u2019t talk,\u201d I blurted out in a loud, jumbled slur. My dad smiled at me, then laughed. He laughed hard, then I did too. I winced as each chuckle sent waves of pain across my jaw.<\/p> My dad wiped a tear away, smiling. \u201cSettle down, son. I\u2019ve got some old Schwarzenegger DVDs we can watch.\u201d<\/p> And we did – we watched all those old DVDs. That week was most genuine time I had with my father in years. <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n He saw her on the rooftop. Cigarette smoke drifted from her lips, joining into the collection of late-night mist, or early morning fog that weaved through the city skyline. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He stood about ten feet from her, pulling out his last menthol from the crumpled pack. He fumbled in his pocket for his lighter, unable to grasp it. Damn. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cN\u01d0 y\u01d2u d\u01ce hu\u01d2 j\u012b ma?\u201d he heard from his right. It was her, but he didn\u2019t understand. The only Mandarin he knew was \u201cn\u01d0 h\u01ceo\u201d and \u201cxi\u00e8 xie.\u201d The girl smiled \u2013 a smile that filled his chest with a surprising brightness. She held out a red plastic lighter and walked toward him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cD\u01ce hu\u01d2 j\u012b,\u201d she said. \u201cIt means lighter.\u201d Her hair was short, black except for a sliver of dyed white that normally he would think looked seedy. But not on her. For some reason, he liked it on her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cXi\u00e8 xie,\u201d he mumbled. He took the lighter from her hand and lit the end of his last cigarette. She watched him complete the whole process with a curious, innocent smile. He looked down at her with raised eyebrows upon noticing this. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhere are you from?\u201d she asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSomewhere in Europe,\u201d he answered. \u201cAnd I\u2019m sorry, but I\u2019d rather not talk about home.\u201d He gazed into the foggy skyline. He figured she\u2019d surely leave him alone after that comment. Idiot. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019ve grown tired of the same conversations anyway.\u201d She leaned against the ridge next to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYour English is very good,\u201d he said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes. If your parents push you hard enough you will learn anything.\u201d She paused for a moment. \u201cI suppose I shouldn\u2019t complain though.\u201d She flicked the end of her cigarette off the building down into the hive. He watched it drift downward, gliding through the wind until he no longer could see it. He wasn\u2019t sure what to say. A liquid drop fell toward the streets, chasing the fallen cigarette. He looked back at her. A single tear had trailed down her cheek. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It hurt him to see her cry. He had seen many people cry in his life \u2013 he could not explain why her tears affected him when countless others hadn\u2019t. He had a sudden urge to hold her, to kiss this stranger from a place that felt so alien. He wanted to grab her hand and dance with her on the rooftop like he\u2019d seen in those old films with his mother. At least once in his life he wanted to do these things \u2013 he wanted to with her, the woman whose name he did not know. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He crept his hand over to hers and held it, firstly with a soft hesitation, but then a comforting warmth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n She looked up at him, another tear rolling down her face. She was about to say something before the roof-door opened with a heavy clamor. A man cried out to her in Mandarin. She yelled something back, anger rising in her sharp voice. She moved her hand from under his, wiping away her tears. She smiled one more time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt was nice to meet you,\u201d she said. She walked away. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He turned back toward the city, listening to the distant taxis, policemen blowing whistles, the hum of countless heaters and stoves, partiers on the prowl, and street-vendors crying for customers in the early dawn. He listened to all the harmonizing echoes that gave the city breath. He reached into his coat for another cigarette, then remembered he had none. He stayed on that roof for quite some time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Joseph Corey is a fiction writer whose work you can find in journals like Eunoia Review, Spank the Carp Magazine <\/em>and others. Originally from Washington D.C., he now lives in Shanghai. To keep up with Joe, follow him on Instagram: ufojoe13<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Impacted I had my wisdom teeth taken out at age 27, and I guess many people would say that\u2019s a little late in life. All four teeth were impacted and needed immediate withdrawal. And at 27 years old, I had no wife or girlfriend or even a friend to care for me after the surgery. … <\/p>\n Upon the Sea<\/h5>\n\n\n\n