At the DQ
by Rachel Kuhnle
I was with friends outside a Dairy Queen when the
conversation turned to the topic of our internal
As we sat and
took inventory and swapped stories of hiccups and
heart palpitations, it was revealed that one
friend, Seth, a tall, skinny boy we all knew to
have various health problems, was born without a
stomach. It was the result of some sort of
chemical exposure, he said, while in utero.
What is it
like to know you werent meant for this
world? one friend asked. He looked a bit
uncomfortable so a friend, Kate, offered,
whats it like to be a miracle? At this he
absence, more supposing continued:
he shriveled as a baby?
his children have no stomachs?
this mean he has no soul?
is he alive?
herself to be more sensitive than the rest of us,
Kate hushed the supposing to merely a few shared
looks at lunch time and some illustrations I kept
for the longest time in a shoebox under my bed.
Kate was a
real fat ass, by the way. I havent yet
established that. It was most unfortunate
for her. She had all kinds of other things going
for her, primarily her family was loaded. But
instead of bearing her midriff and driving around
in a BMW around like any other rich bitch, she
was trying weight loss program after program and
When she told
us her plans, the next day, at the DQ
caused quite a stir.
Now I was not
the first to think it but still everyone was
shocked when I suggested she donate her stomach
to Seth. It makes sense! I said. He was born
without a stomach and its made his life
hard. Its not fair that she can just throw
hers away, I said. Its like wearing glasses
for fun or shaving your head bald cause you
arose questioning the morality of the whole thing.
I would starve myself, a friend said, before I
threw away my stomach. The passion behind her
argument was that she wanted to have children
very badly, and without a stomach Kate would
likely never be able to nurture a growing fetus.
I told her that was horrible talk, starving
yourself was horrible, but I appreciated her
Seth got upset
and left, and Kate, in turning to go comfort him,
hushed all our arguments by saying: My body
is mine. His body is his. And its none of
passionate at the time but now I suppose I was
just hungry. I hadnt eaten all day that day
and my stomach was growling.
I think that
means it was eating itself.