My wife told me she was going out with Ashley, Kelly, and Courtney, that she’d be getting some drinks, doing some dancing, that she wouldn’t be home late, “… unless I’m home late!” I said no problem and I’d see her when she got home, that I’d wait up. I went back to watching my game but when I looked up a couple pitches later, my wife was still there. “What?” I asked, and she said, “You don’t care that I’m going out with Ashley, Kelly, and Courtney?” and I said, “Of course not.” She was getting at something, so I said, “Did you meet them at work? At yoga? Have I met them?” She smiled widely until I made her tell me why and she said, “I’ll bet you’re assuming Ashley, Kelly, and Courtney are women, when in fact, those are men’s names, too.” I looked up with a Huh? expression, but I think on it, about Kelly Tripucka, that basketball player from when I was a kid, and Courtney Brown, that linebacker from Penn St., and Ashley … well, there had to be Ashleys in the pros somewhere, but of course there was Ashley Wilkes, from Gone With the Wind, a movie my mom made me watch every year on TV. I remember Scarlett O’Hara lamenting, “Oh, Ashley, Ashley, Ashley …” when Melanie died, Ashley Melanie’s husband/now-widower. Rhett Butler, Scarlett’s then-husband, saw the whole thing and right there realized Scarlett would never love him the way she loved Ashley. Michael Czyzniejewski
“What is this, some kind of gender studies lesson?” Just then a guy named Aubrey came up to bat against a guy named Dana and I was suddenly thinking there were a lot of guys who grew up with names everyone thought were girl names, like John Wayne, whose real name was Marion, or the guy in the Johnny Cash song who was named Sue. That dad named his kid Sue because he knew he was going to be a deadbeat dad and wanted other kids to beat his kid up, make him tougher, so he gave him a traditional girl’s name. This was the Old West, though, lots of gunfights and saloon brawls, nothing you’d ever see now, as it just wouldn’t be applicable.Michael Czyzniejewski
“It’s not a lesson,” my wife said. The doorbell rang and I noticed for the first time my wife was dressed in her club clothes, the heels and little black dress, her hair done up nice. I called to her, “You look really good” as she walked away. I don’t think she heard.Michael Czyzniejewski
I stood and was greeted by three guys, Ashley, Kelly, and Courtney, all of them at least ten years younger than us, all of them handsome and buff, dressed for the club, in tight slacks and leather shoes. Two of them wore a vest without anything else up top, and the other one, Kelly, I think, wore a black mesh shirt that looked painted on. All of them shook my hand with incredible grips, all of them smelling like the cologne my wife had bought me but I never wore.
“This is Arnold,” my wife said.Michael Czyzniejewski
“Good name,” one of the men said, likely Courtney.Michael Czyzniejewski
“Thanks,” I said.Michael Czyzniejewski
My wife, whose name is Dylan, repeated that she wouldn’t be out late, then all four of them, at the exact same time, said, “Unless we’re home late!” and laughed together. I started to walk them to the door, but Dylan pointed to the TV, reminded me the game was on. This distracted me just enough to turn and hear the door shut, for me to find myself alone.
The game went into rain delay shortly after that. I texted Dylan and asked good time? and she sent emojis that indicated she was dancing and had had four martinis. There was also a crescent moon followed by a sun, which said to me Don’t wait up.Michael Czyzniejewski
While I brushed my teeth, I used my phone to see if there were any girls in the United States named Arnold. There was one, in North Dakota, born just four years ago. I went to bed—it was only 8:30—and thought about that poor female Arnold, how she’d soon go to school and every teacher she’d ever have, every person she’d ever meet, would assume she was a boy before they met her. How they’d make a thing out of it, that she’d never get through an attendance sheet or ID check without some asshole making a joke. I thought about what her parents were thinking. Maybe Arnold was a family name, an uncle or grandfather, and that guy had just died, or was dying, when little Arnold was born, so they named their sweet baby girl in honor of him, planning to call her by her middle name, Rose or Stephanie or even Petunia, whatever they picked that sounded prettier than Arnold, which was just about every name. I thought about how kids today didn’t think about gender the same way I did, had been taught to. People were naming their kids Tree and Apple and Lake, too. no matter what their gender. “Gender’s a construct,” I heard Dylan’s voice say.Michael Czyzniejewski
I fell asleep, thinking these thoughts, and woke, just after midnight, jolting up and yelling, “Arnold!” dreaming about that girl in North Dakota. I looked over and Dylan wasn’t in bed, the covers on her side pulled tight, her pillow still perfect, no one there to wonder why I was calling out my own name.
