Peter Cherches


Geography

      We pass the time by playing geography. Mother starts. Let’s see, how about Arizona? It’s your turn Father. Sure, I need an A, right, OK, here’s one for yiz all, Afghanistan. Oh that’s a good one, says Mother, that’s a good one. It’s my turn it’s my turn, says Uncle, and have I got a doozie. Nairobi. Does Nairobi end with an I or a Y, says Auntie. I, ya stupid bitch, I, says Father. All right I was just asking. Ireland. It’s your turn Grandma. IT’S YOUR TURN GRANDMA! Oh sorry I wasn’t listening. What did she say? Ireland. I have to come up with a place that starts with D? Right. Denmark. Kentucky, says Grandpa. Boy that was quick. I’m not dead yet, he says, I’m not dead yet! It’s my turn. Yonkers. Sinsinnati says Little Brother. Cincinnati! Cincinnati doesn’t start with an S, stupid, it starts with a C. Mommy, Mommy he called me stupid. Oh he was just kidding. Yeah, stop being so sensitive and think of a place that starts with S. Seattle. Sister says England. All right now, what’s a nice place that starts with D, says Mother, Grandma already used Denmark, so that’s out of the question. Quit wastin’ so much time and just say anything, says Father, ya don’t have to do a whole production number. Well I’m sorry, says Mother, I didn’t know I was causing so much trouble. Don’t pay no attention to him says Grandma, he’s always been a nasty person. WHO YA CALLIN’ NASTY? says Father. Please, please, no fighting, I’ve got one anyway, Delaware. Another E, eh, says Father, here’s one for yiz all, East Berlin. There’s no more East Berlin, Berlin is one city, says Sister. You just watch your tongue, says Father. East Berlin, and you can all go to hell! Well, well, says Uncle, another N for me, let’s see, how about New England. There ain’t no such place as New England, says Father. Sure there is, says Uncle, can you honestly tell me you’ve never heard of New England? Sure I’ve heard of New England, Father says, nobody’s sayin’ I’ve never heard of New England, I’m just sayin’ you can’t use it in the game. Why not, it’s a legitimate place. It ain’t legitimate, it’s just something they call a bunch of places. Auntie says, I think New England’s fine, I like New England, I like New England clam chowder, New England clam chowder comes from New England, so New England must be a place. Who asked ya, says Father, who asked ya, why don’t ya mind your own freakin’ business? You watch how you talk to my wife, Uncle says, you watch how you talk to her because if you don’t watch how you talk to her. Yeah, what are you gonna do? I’ll do something, don’t you worry, I’ll do something. That’s telling him, says Auntie. All right, says Father, we’ve decided New England’s no good so just come up with another one. Who decided New England’s no good? Listen, Mother says to Uncle, you know he’s impossible so why don’t you be a good sport and try another one? OK, says Uncle, I guess you’re right, it’s not whether you win or lose it’s how you play the game. North America. You can’t use North America, says Father, continents are no good. Who says continents are no good? I says continents are no good. I always thought continents were good, says Mother. Yes, so did I, says Auntie, I always thought continents were perfectly acceptable. They’re right, I say. Yeah, says Uncle. You’re all against me, says Father, you’re all against me, my word is no good in my own home, next thing ya know my own children are gonna murder me in my sleep. No we won’t, we say. All right, all right, he says, use continents, throw all the rules out the window, see if I care. Do I go now, says Grandma. No, it’s Auntie’s turn. Here’s one I think you’ll all like, says Auntie, Africa. Jesus Christ, there you go with the stinkin’ continents again. It’s your turn now Grandma. What do I need? A. All right, how about Africa? You can’t use Africa. Why not, I thought we decided continents are OK. You can’t use Africa because Auntie just used Africa. All right then, Asia. You’re all doin’ this out of spite! Antarctica, says Grandpa, Antarctica, I’m still alive, I’m still alive! You old bastard, says Father. I say Abilene. Atta boy, says Father, a chip off the old block. East Fifth Street, says Little Brother. That retard’s not my son. You can’t use streets, darling, says Mother. I can’t? No, you can’t. Is East Timor OK? How the fuck does this kid know East Timor? He’s no retard, he’s a freakin’ genius I tell ya. East Timor! Rwanda, says Sister. My goodness, another A, says mother, I never realized how many places end with A. If you don’t hurry up you’re gonna end with A. All right, all right, Arizona, my goodness, look at that! Annapolis says Father. San Diego says Uncle. Ottawa says Auntie. Grandma says, is it my turn? Yes. What do I need? A. But A was last time. Well it’s this time too. This is a silly game, I don’t think I want to play any more. Good riddance, says Father. You ain’t getting rid of me so easy, says Grandpa, Arkansas. Spain, I say. New York, says Little Brother. Khartoum, says Sister. M is nice for a change of pace, says Mother, how about Mississippi. Idaho, says Father. That reminds me, says Mother, I have to peel the potatoes. Good, says Father, that’s one less headache. Oklahoma, says Uncle. Alabama, says Auntie. Augusta, says Grandpa. I say Angola. Little Brother just sits there looking dumb. Well? I can’t think of nothing, I quit, he says. Hallelujah, says Father. If you think you’re gonna win you’re nuts, says Uncle. Yeah? We’ll see who’s nuts. Arctic Ocean, says Sister. No oceans, says Father. Oh forget it, says Sister, I give up. Sore loser. Whose turn is it now, says Auntie. It’s my turn, says Father. Albania. Another A, eh, says Uncle, Atlantic City. I think I’ll go help with the potatoes, says Auntie. Well, I guess it’s just us men, says Grandpa, Yellowstone National Park. No parks! Fuck you, have some respect for your elders, says Grandpa, and he hits Father with his cane. That’s showing him, says Uncle. Father punches Uncle in the nose. Grandpa hits Father again. Father kicks Grandpa in the shin. The game of geography seems to be over.

Peter Cherches has published five collections of fiction and creative nonfiction since 2013, most recently Masks: Stories from a Pandemic. Called “one of the innovators of the short short story” by Publishers Weekly, he’s also a jazz singer and lyricist. He’s a native of Brooklyn, New York.

 
 

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