Family Kleenex®

by Briandaniel Oglesby

Downstairs Bathroom—Family-size with Lotion in a plum-colored floralpattern box; 112 have been used:

14 went to runny noses.

17 went to bloody noses.

5 went to wiping soap and grime from around the ceramic abalone dish full of tiny shell-shaped
guest soaps.

22 went to blood not from bloody noses.

8 went into pockets in case of the sniffles.

7 went to pus from Ming’s acne. She detonated her zits in the downstairs bathroom when the upstairs one was occupied.

6 went to Ming’s astringent when the cotton balls ran out. After she detonated the zits, she rubbed Johnson & Johnson Clean & Clear® on the spots, to make them heal faster. She was by no means the only seventh-grade girl in the world to have this hope.

3 went to her brother Pepin’s semen. Their mother, Su, used the Kleenex to wipe it off the door handle.

14 went to shit—eight were improvised toilet paper when the roll ran out and the shitter did not know to look under the sink for another; six were used when Pepin had an accident and Su didn’t think to clean it up with the toilet paper right away.

3 went to Su’s tears the time she locked herself in the bathroom to cry when she couldn’t make it upstairs in time. 11 went to Pepin’s twin brother, Coco, to wipe semen from those four nights over Thanksgiving when Grandma visited and she stayed in his room and he had to stay downstairs. He liked the feeling of the lotion.

2 poked into Coco’s coat pocket after he looked in the mirror and thought his black suit for the funeral needed something, a little white, a kerchief in the front pocket like in the movies.

Kitchen—Family-size, purple, with a swirl pattern, Anti-Viral* with a specially treated middle layer; 90 have been used:

29 “died.” They became ghosts when Su covered lollipops with the white tissue for Halloween. She wrapped rubber bands around the base of candy to affix the tissue to the lollipops. The ghosts looked like sperms wearing wedding dresses, Coco and Ming joked. Su pursed her lips and chose not to laugh. They should act more mature. She handed the bridal sperms to Ming and Coco, who drew spooky faces on them with black Sharpies.

14 clotted mucus from runny noses. Mostly Coco’s, though sometimes his sister or their father, Harry.

25 went to the noses that ran when Su made her spicy Kung Pao Tofu or when Harry cut and fried onions in red pepper sauce. Anyone downstairs would start sneezing. It couldn’t be avoided.

12 furnished Ming’s diorama for English. She made a scene in a shoebox for Othello: What Happens After. Tissues became sheets and curtains on a tiny canopy bed and covered the last of the
cottonballs—the tiny bodies of Desdemona and Othello. The paramedics had hidden the dead couple, said it was an accident—an accident, those stupid, stupid paramedics—and had then gone on to attend Emilia, who survives in Ming’s diorama.

3 scooped up bits of vegetables and tofu that spilled from the cutting board and then spat from the pan when Su concocted the Kung Pao Tofu, and The Baby screamed.

6 were forgotten and left in pockets to become dryer lint.

1 picked up a piece of The Baby’s skull from under the fridge door—Grandma picked it up. She knew what it was, pink and curled like a corn chip. She threw it away and didn’t tell anyone.

Ming’s Room—Hummingbird pattern with pink background; 147 have been used:

12 picked up dead insects. Ming pinched silverfish between her fingers. With her black flip-flops she never wore, she slapped flies and spiders. She smashed a black spider into her white wall and couldn’t scrub away the dime-sized blotch. She stared at that stain right next to her bed. She felt deep shame for having killed the spider. It had moved. Nothing more. Pepin would do that. And then she felt guilty for feeling shame for being like her brother. But that went away.

37 went to make-up she used to cover her acne. It hid the acne, at least, but also made it worse.

13 absorbed her first menstrual discharge. She knew what the blood was, but she didn’t want to believe it. She pretended she had cut herself. She pretended to worry people would think she wasn’t a virgin. Puberty made Pepin touch himself in public. Made the outbursts violent. No longer her adorable simple older brother, but a monstertard, a difficult problem-thing that made her parents fight.

21 for nosebleeds, a special kind of Oopsie, common and unique to Ming. Pepin rarely scratched or bit his sister, but her large hawkish nose often attracted his fists, more than any other nose in the family. If she surprised him, his fat elbow would fly into her nose. And the blood would come every time, opening what she thought was a cut inside her that would never heal. Shit. It couldn’t even scar.
5 to nonbleeding nose mucus. When she picked at it, the brackish crusts would flake into the Kleenex. She wondered why she’d been born. She didn’t want to commit suicide, she told herself to justify this line of thought and not allow it to become melodramatic or angst-filled. She wanted to know objectively, scientifically, why she had been born. Why didn’t her parents look at Pepin, born the other side of midnight as Coco, and realize how much work it would be? They should have known Pepin would be abnormal before they conceived her; why add more work with more children? Why hadn’t her parents learned their lesson? Why were they so stupid and selfish? Goddamnit.

26 took the pus from the zits. She imagined that one day her face would erupt like a geyser, and it would be a painful but cleansing pain.

25 filled her bra when Coco’s friend Alex James came over. Ming folded the tissues, slid them between the Mickey Mouse print cloth and the pimply skin of her unformed breasts. She had seen Alex James staring at her mother’s lactating breasts. She had noticed how distracted he became when Su poked her teat out and The Baby fed from her body. This was when The Baby was alive. So when Alex James came over, Ming filled her bra with Kleenex. She could hear The Baby crying again as she went to the bathroom to adjust herself in a mirror that was partially blocked by old immature pictures of horses—God, what a stupid phase—and pictures of beautiful women she cut from style magazines. And she hated it. She tore off her top, her bra, and ran to her room, barechested,passing Alex James in the hall. He noticed her this time.

8 dabbed her tears when Pepin killed The Baby. She wasn’t surprised. Why would she be surprised? She was angry. Why hadn’t her parents shipped him away? How could they be so fucking selfish, so motherfucking stupid? For a moment, she felt a strong sense of righteousness and satisfaction in the anger. Fucking Mom and Dad, fucking should have listened. Then she was overcome by an enormous guilt because she should be sad. She took another Kleenex, blew into it, hard enough for another nosebleed. She let her nose bleed and bleed, doing nothing to stop it.