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THEBOYSWITHTHESPAREKEYSAMaster'sThesisPresentedtoTheGraduateCollegeofMissouriStateUniversityTEMPLATEInPartialFulfillmentOftheRequirementsfortheDegreeMasterofArts,EnglishByKatelynElizabethGrishamMay2019iiTHEBOYSWITHTHESPAREKEYSEnglishMissouriStateUniversity,May2019MasterofArtsKatelynElizabethGrishamABSTRACTAshumanbeings,weareconstantlylosingsomething:ourkeys,ourwallets,ourcreditscards,orthematetoourfavoritepairofsocks.
Butwhatifyoulosesomethingthatcannotbereplaced,somethingthatwillimpactyourlifeinapermanentwayThiscollectionlooksatwhatitmeanstolosesomethinglife-altering;oursenseofself,ourfriendships,ourplannedfutures,ourgrasponreality.
Somethingscannotbereplaced.
FromtrustfundkidstoadadpreparingaChristmastreeforhisdaughter,thiscollectionwillexploretheideaofwhatwecan(orcannot)affordtoloseandhowtomoveonfromourloss.
Thesecharactersarealltrapped,inmanyways,andsomemaycrosspaths,whetherthathindersorhelpstheirprogress.
Thesestorieswillplaywithmagicalrealism,drawnfromauthorslikeKarenRusselandRobertOlenButler,andmyfirstinspiration,GeorgeSaunders,whoalwaysincludesalittlefabulisminhisstoriesthatIliketotakeinspirationfrom.
KEYWORDS:shortstory,loss,magicalrealism,friendship,childhood,parenthood,loneliness,illnessiiiTHEBOYSWITHTHESPAREKEYSByKatelynElizabethGrishamAMaster'sThesisSubmittedtotheGraduateCollegeOfMissouriStateUniversityInPartialFulfillmentoftheRequirementsFortheDegreeofMasterofArts,EnglishMay2019Approved:JenniferMurvin,M.
F.
A.
,ThesisCommitteeChairW.
D.
Blackmon,Ph.
D.
,CommitteeMemberMichaelCzyzniejewski,M.
F.
A.
,CommitteeMemberJoelColtharp,M.
A.
,CommitteeMemberJulieMasterson,Ph.
D.
,DeanoftheGraduateCollegeIntheinterestofacademicfreedomandtheprincipleoffreespeech,approvalofthisthesisindicatestheformatisacceptableandmeetstheacademiccriteriaforthedisciplineasdeterminedbythefacultythatconstitutethethesiscommittee.
Thecontentandviewsexpressedinthisthesisarethoseofthestudent-scholarandarenotendorsedbyMissouriStateUniversity,itsGraduateCollege,oritsemployees.
ivACKNOWLEDGEMENTSIdedicatethisthesistomyparents,MartiandMark,foralwayssupportingme.
IwouldalsoliketopersonallythankmymentorMichaelCzyzniejewskiforhelpingmethroughbothmydegreesatMissouriStateUniversity.
vTABLEOFCONTENTSTheSantaWhoRuinedChristmas:HowMagicalRealismCanBringCreativityIntoStoriesOfLossPage1WorksCitedPage8TheBoysWiththeSpareKeysPage9AFarewelltotheMountainsPage22TheSantaDealPage37HungryPage5099Page64OutofOrderPage791THESANTAWHORUINEDCHRISTMAS:HOWMAGICALREALISMCANBRINGCREATIVITYINTOSTORIESOFLOSSByanalyzingseveraloftheshortstoriesthatIsimplycannotletgoof,Ifindmyselfsettlingintoacommonthemeinmywriting:thatofcharacterslosingsomething.
Initially,thiswasnotsomethingIhadbeendoingonpurpose,butsubconsciously.
IfIhadmyfictionexamined,mytherapistwouldlikelybeveryconcernedaboutmyviewontheworld.
However,Icontinuetoproducethesestories,oddlyalsousuallyfittinginthemalepointofview,becauseitseemstocomenaturallytome.
Ifinditreallyinterestingtoseehowpeoplecanreacttoloss—whetherthatbeaphysicalobject,people(todeathorotherwise),orarelationship(romanticorotherwise).
Withinthisrealmoflosingthings,Idoliketoplaywithform,especiallymagicalrealism.
Nottosoundconceited,butmyfavoritemagicalrealismstoryIhavewrittenisentitled"TheSantaDeal.
"Brian,theprotagonist,isadivorcedfatherdrivingonChristmasEvetobuyaChristmastreetoappeasehisdaughterBettie.
HeonlyseesBettieontheweekends,ashisrelationshipwithhisex-wife(LouAnne)isveryrocky,andhethinksthataChristmastreewillreallybringhimandhisdaughtercloser.
Asheisdriving,heisquiteliterallyinacaraccidentwithSanta'ssleigh,whichcauseshimtototalhisvehicleandbeabandonedinacornfield.
ItisclearthatBrianhasneverseenSantainhislife,butheisnotsurprisedtofindhimoncehegetsoutofthecar,hintingthatSantaisaknown,realfigureinthisuniverse.
SantamakesadealwithBrian—ifBrianwatchesthereindeerwhilehegoesandfetchessomeitemstorepairthesleigh,SantawillfixBrian'scarandgethimatree.
Hencethetitle:TheSantaDeal.
2WhileSantaisgone,thenarrationslipsbetweenBrianobservingandexploringthecrashsite,andhisownreflectionsofhischildhoodwithanabusive,overzealousfather(Harold)whowasobsessedwithfindingreligionbeforehediedofParkinson's(whicheventuallyhedoes,duetocomplicationswithchokingoncommunionbread.
)ChildBrianhasseencults,molestingpriests,allthefakes,anddoesnotbelieveinreligionasanadult.
Inaway,heseesSanta,now,asasavior.
Certainly,SantacausedthecrashbylandingonBrian'scar,buthecanfinallysaveChristmasforhimandsavehisrelationshipwithhisyoungdaughter,Bettie.
Overthecourseofseveralclassesandreadingnumerousexamples,Ihavecomeupwithmyowndefinitionformagicalrealism.
Thereisarealisticworld,onereaderscaneasilyplacethemselvesin;however,somethingintheworldisoff/wrong/outoftheordinary.
Thestrangeorabnormaladditiontothetextusuallyleadstoagrandmetaphor.
InJohnGardner'sArtOfFiction,hesays,Acommonandusuallyunfortunateanswer[towhatshallwriterswriteabout]is"Writeaboutwhatyouknow.
"Nothingcanbemorelimitingtotheimagination,nothingisquickertoturnonthepsyche'scensoringdevisesanddistortionsystemsthantryingtowritetruthfullyandinterestinglyaboutone'sownhometown,one'sEpiscopalianmother,one'scrippledyoungersister.
(17)Healsoemphasizes"Whereastherealistarguesthereaderintoacceptance,thetalewritercharmsorlullshimintodroppingobjections;thatis,persuadeshimtosuspenddisbelief"(24).
Forme,creatingthebalanceofrealistwritingwiththatofthemoremagical—withoutcrossingintofabulism—iswhatmakesgoodmagicalrealistfiction.
Inmystory,readersmustbelievethatSantaisreal,becauseallBriansaysis:"Sureenough,SantaClauswassittinginthemiddleofthecornfield,spread-eagle,hisbeardandredsuitdirty.
Hisreindeerwerestrugglingintheirrestraints.
Oneortwohadbrokenfree,flyingabovetherestlikeamobile.
"Thereisnofainting3orscreamingorquestioningeverything—thereaderistoactasBriandoes.
Santahasenteredthescene,andheisrealinthisuniverse.
Anotherscholarandwriter,RobertOlenButler,highlightsthemotivationorwantsofcharactersinhiscraftbookFromWhereyouDream.
Hesays,"yearningisalwayspartoffictionalcharacter.
Infact,onewaytounderstandplotisthatitrepresentsthedynamicsofdesire.
It'sthedynamicsofdesirethatisattheheartofthenarrativeandplot"(63).
Formystory,BrianisyearningtomakeaniceChristmasforhisdaughter,aspartofhis"NoFuck-UpsChristmasPlan.
"Andinordertoobtainhisdesire,theaspectofmagicalrealismenters,perhapsshowingthatBrianissofarfromgettingwhathewants,thatthingsmustturnmystical.
Butlerwrites:IfIsayartdoesn'tcomefromthemind,itcomesfromtheplacewhereyoudream,youmightsay'Well,Iwakeupscreaminginthenight.
Idon'twanttogointomydreams,thankyouverymuch.
Idon'twanttogointothatwhite-hotcenter;I'vespentmylifestayingoutofthere…'Butthisisthetoughpartforthosetwohoursadaywhenyouwrite,youcannotflinch.
Youhavetogodownintothatdeepest,darkest,moreroilingwhite-hotplace…youcan'tflinch,can'twalkaway.
That'stheonlywaytocreateaworkofart.
(20)Inthisway,writersareabletoplaywithmagicalrealism.
Whilemystoriesdonotdealwithhorror,andIdonotwakeupscreaminginthenight,Idolikeaddinginmagicalelementsbecauseitchallengesmeasawriter.
Idonotwanttoflinch.
In"TheSantaDeal,"notonlyisSantarealbut,toputitinkindterms,heisacheating,horribleman.
Whenhereturnsfromhisrepairtrip,hefixeshissleighandinformsBrianthathedoesnothaveenoughmagictoholduphisendofthedeal.
Brian,infuriated,ishelplessasSantafliesawaytodeliverjoytoall.
Theconfrontationscenereads:"Oh,well,myboy,"SantawalkedovertohisreindeerandRudolphcertainlydidn'ttrytoattackhim.
"Yousee,I'mrunninglateondeliveriesbecauseofthis4unfortunateincident,soIdon'tthinkIcanusethemagictogiveyouwhatyouneed.
"Typical,typical,typical.
Ofcoursethishappened.
LouAnnealwayspouncedonanyopportunitytocondemnBrianofbeingabadfather.
Hislateness,missingdancerecitals,smellinglikesmoke,havingashittycarthatalwaysbrokedown,thelistwentonforever.
Briandidn'tthinksherememberedHarold.
Sherememberedtheideaofhim.
Whathewantedtobe.
"No,"Briansaid.
"No,no,no.
""I'mawfullysorry,"Santasaid.
"Yousonofabitch!
"Brianwantedsomethingtothrow.
Hehadnothingexceptastrawcrosshemadesittingathisfeet.
"Youlyingbastard!
"Santaonlytwirledhishand,magicallyfixingthebrokenandcrackedpiecesofthesleighandalsoputtingthereindeerbackinplace.
Thatalsoshedglitter.
"Ifonlyyou'dbeenonthenicelist,son.
Oratleasttriedmore.
"Brianlethisarmsfalltohissides.
"Bettie,"hesaid.
"Bettie.
Mydaughter.
Whatlistissheon""She'sonthenicelist,fornow,"Santasaidasheclimbedaboardthesled.
Heletoutajollylaugh,eventhoughitcertainlywasnottherightoccasionforone.
"Butwe'llseeifsheendsuponthesamelistasyou.
""I'mtrying,"Briansaid,butSantawasalreadygone,hisreindeerlaunchingintotheskyandthesledliftingwithit,likearollercoasterascendingthehillforthebigdrop.
Butthislyingsackofshitwouldonlykeepgoingup,keeponbringinghappiness,keepondoingwhateveryoneexpectedhimtodo.
Thissceneemphasizeswhatisreallygoingon:afatherworriedforhisdaughterdoesnotseemuchofandcannothavemuchinfluenceover.
Heworriesthatshe'sgoingtoenduplikehim,havingbadluckfollowedbymorebadluck,untilsheendsuponthe"naughtylist.
"Brianistrying,ashesays,tobethegoodfather,unlikehisfatherHarold,andhe'stryingatthismoment,thismomenthecanactuallygrasp,togiveherawell-deservedChristmasEve.
ButhefailsbecausethemagicalelementdoesnotgiveBrianwhathewants.
IfSanta,atleasttoBrian,isseenasthisreligiousfigure,abletohelpBrianpasthissins,hefailshim,muchliketheChristianreligionfailedhimasaboybynotprotectinghimfromhisfather.
AnyonecouldhavehitBrianonthesideoftheroadandderailedhisplan,butthefactthatasemi-worshipedbeingdiditisimportanttoconnecteverythingtogether.
5Asawriter,mynumberoneinspirationisGeorgeSaunders.
WhileIthinkSaundersoftenflirtswiththeideaofmagicalrealism,I'mnotsurehisstoriescandirectlyberelatedtothat.
Asformythemeoflosingsomething(Brianlosingtheeveningwithhisdaughter),Ithinkof"VictoryLap,"myfavoriteshortstoryfromSaundersinhiscollectionTenthofDecember.
Eventhoughthepointofviewswitchesbetweenthreecharactersandtwoofthenarratorsarechildren,Ithinktheendingresonatessomewherewithinmeandinspiresmywriting.
Inthisstory,thechildrenlosetheirinnocencewhenpresentedwithakidnappingscenario,andthekidnapper/rapistloseshislifebytheendofthepiece.
Whatstartsoutasaninnocentstory—sweetAllisonanalyzingherparents'partyandcomingupwithmultiple,imaginedscenarios,quicklybecomesseriousandhorrific.
WhenKyle,theneighborofAllisonwhoisthevictim,savesherfrombeingtakenawayinthevan,thenarrationgoes:Wantaskullgashontopofyourexistingskullgash,bigmanYouthinkIwon'tYouthinkI—Easyscout[hisparentsinhishead],you'reoutofcontrol.
Slowyoumotordown,BelovedOnly.
Quiet.
I'mthebossofme.
(23)Kylekillstheman,atleastinmyreading.
Andthushelosescontrolofhischildhood,hislife,hisfreedom.
WhileBrianisonlyintheprocessoflosinghisdaughterandtheirrelationship,Kylehaslostsomuchmore.
ButIamstillabletoconnectthesimilarities.
Attheendof"TheSantaDeal,"thesceneechoessomethingBrianstatedearlier,howheboughtBettieasnowglobebecauseasachildhisparentscollectedthemandhecherishedthem.
Helikedtolookatthem"justso"andpretendhewasatwhateverdestinationtheglobeheldinside.
Thescenegoes:OnceSantawasgone,Brianwentbackovertohiscar.
Hepriedthedriver'ssidedooropenandpoppedthetrunk.
Goingaroundtotheback,hepickedupthesmallpaperbagheleftinthecornerofthetrunk,protectedbyumbrellasandspare6blanketshekeptbackthere.
Itwasstillintact,evenaftereverything.
Hetookoutthesnowgloberestinginside.
Hawaii.
[…]Hepickedupthesnowglobe,oneeyesquintedalittle,andlookedatitjustso.
AnotheroneofGeorgeSaunders'storiesthatdealswithmagicalrealismishisclassicstory"SeaOak"fromhisshortstorycollectionPastoralia.
Thisshortstoryisaboutastrugglingfamilyledbythebossofthehouse—thegreataunt.
Thenarrator,whoworksatapilot-themedstripclub,istryingtofinanciallymakeendsmeet.
Thegreatauntdies,isburied,onlytoberesurrectedasthishorrific,offensivezombiefigurethatcomesbacktolivewithherfamily,adamantonmakingsuretheyhaveeverythinginorderbeforeshefinallyrotsandfallsapart.
That,forsure,screamsmagicalrealism.
Theendscene,whenBernie,thegreataunt,literallyfallsapartandthusdiesforrealthistime,reads:ForeveryhundredbucksImake,IsetasidefiveforBernie'sstone.
WhatdoyouwriteonsomethinglikethatLIFEPASSEDHERBYDIEDDISAPPOINTEDCAMEBACKTOLIFEBUTFELLAPARTAlltrue,buttoosad,andnowayI'mwritinganyofthose.
BERNIEKOWALSKI,it'sgoingtosay:BELOVEDAUNT.
Sometimesshecomestomeindreams.
Sheneverlooksgood.
Sometimesshe'swearingadirtysmock.
Onceshehadonhandcuffs.
Onceshewasnakedanddirtyandthismeancatwasclawingitswayupherfront.
Buteverytimeit'sthesamething.
"SomepeoplegeteverythingandIgotnothing,"shesays.
"WhyWhydidthathappen"EverytimeIsayIdon'tknow.
AndIdon't.
(125)Ifanyotherstoryinspiredmywritingmore,ithastobethisone.
Thefactthatisdoeshaveanabsurdaspectandhumor(thegreatauntshouting"Goshowyourcock!
"sothenarratorcanearnmoremoney)andyetendsonsadnessissomethingIfindinmywriting.
IwouldnevercomparemyselftoSaundersinanyway,butIadmirehowhealwaysseemstoaccomplishthiswithhismorehumorouspieces.
Thingsstartoutfine,thingsgowrong,thingsendsomberly.
I7definitelywouldarguemywritingtakesthesameform.
Berniehaslostherabilitytoliveafulllife.
Shefeelsasifshe'sbeencheated,andthenarrator,theliving,doesnotknowwhattosaytoher.
Shehaslostsomethingshemaynevertakeback,andSaundersusesmagicalrealismtoaccomplishthisplotarc.
WhileItrytolinkmythemeoflosingsomethingwithinmagicalrealismfor"TheSantaDeal,"alongwithotherstoriesIhavewritten,Ihopetoelevatethemtoanewlevelwherenotonlyisthereamagicalelement,butthatmagicalobjectemphasizestheverythingthatthenarratormustlose.
8WORKSCITEDButler,RobertOlen.
FromWhereYouDream.
NewYork,GrovePress,2005.
Gardner,John.
TheArtofFiction.
NewYork,VintageBooks,1983.
Saunders,George.
"SeaOak.
"Pastoralia.
NewYork,RiverheadBooks,2000,pp.
91-125.
Saunders,George.
"VictoryLap.
"TenthofDecember.
NewYork,RandomHouse,2013,pp.
3-27.
9THEBOYSWITHTHESPAREKEYSAfterthreeweeksandonedayoflivinginmynewapartment,Icamehomefromworkandsomeonewassittinginmylivingroomwatchingthetelevision.
Helookedaroundmyage,maybeafewyearspastcollege,withcurlyblondehairlikelittlespringsinapenwhenyouunscrewthetopandpullouttheinnards.
Hehadbroadshouldersandabrightorangeshirt,thekindthatmightreflectlight.
Ihadneverconsideredsomeoneelsebeinginmyapartment.
Ididn'tliketheideaofroommates.
Ilikedbeingalone.
There'sthatsayingthatyou'reyourownbestcompany,orwhatever.
Orisitworstcompany"Uh,"IsaidasIwatchedthemansittingonthefutonIborrowedfrommyparents'basement.
Theguyturned,lookingoverhisshoulder.
"So.
You'rethenewguy,"hesaid.
"Uh,"Isaid.
Theguystoodup,havingagoodfourinchesonme.
MymotheralwayssaidIhadabodybuiltforasoccerplayer,slimandlean.
SheenrolledmeinasoccerprogramwiththeYMCAwhenIwasfive.
Ourfirstgamehadbeeninwinter,andI'dspenttheentiretimecryingonthesidelines,clingingtoherleg.
Mydadwaitedforusinthecarwhilemymomencouragedmetojoinmyteammates—whichIneverdid.
"I'mTyler,"hesaid.
Istaredathishand.
"Uh…"Isaid.
"Ilivehere.
"Tylerkepthishandout,andIshookit.
Onlythenhespoke.
"Ifigured.
"10"Whatareyoudoing"Iasked,glancingattheTV.
ItwasFrasier.
Mymomwatcheditalot.
DaphnewasyellingatNilesaboutsomething,heraccentmakingthewholescenesomehowamusing,thelaughingtrackrolling.
Orwerethererealpeopleintheaudience"Ididn'thaveaplacetocrashtonight,"TylersaidasIlookedbackathim.
"Listen.
"Heputhishandonmyshoulder.
"Iusedtoknowtheguywholivedherebeforeyou.
NamewasPeter.
Coolguy.
Usedtosellmepotfornexttonothing.
Suchacooldude.
""Okay,"Isaid.
AnadvertisementcameontheTVaboutavacuumthatturnedintoamop.
IglancedatthepictureofGretontopoftheTVstand,grinningherhugegrin,allteethshining,asshehadherarmloopedaroundme,smilingless,asweshowedoffourcollegegraduationgowns.
TylershiftedhisweightandIlookedathimagain.
"Petermovedaway.
Gotajobtranslatingforaschoolinfuckin'Argentina.
Canyoubelievethat""Uh…"Isaid.
"No.
""Yeah,but,like,heleftthiskey,see.
"Hedugintohispocketandproducedtheaforementionedkey,danglingitinfrontofme.
Itwasattachedtoakeychainwithalittle,woodenBuddha.
"So,IthoughtI'dcomeby.
Seewhotookuphisspot.
Iknewtheidiotpropertymanagerwouldn'tchangethelocks.
Youmethim,I'msure.
Baldingguy,gutlikesomekindaSantaI'llletyouinonasecret,bud,thathairain'trealanymorethanmydatingprofileonline.
"IrememberedwhenIwaslittleandwatchedTheShiningwithmydad.
Afterthemovieended,Iaskedhimwhatghostswerelike.
Mydadsaidtheydidn'texist.
IaskedhimwhatJacksawatthehotel.
Mydadsaidprobablyghosts.
Iaskedhowthatmadesense,'causeghostsweren'treal.
Hesaid.
That'sfiction,son.
IpokedTylerinthechest,hard,withmyindexfinger.
11"Dude!
"Hesteppedback,rubbingthespot.
"Whatthehell,man""Isthisajoke"Iasked.
"No,"Tyleranswered.
"CanIstayheretonight—please,manComeon.
MyroommateandIarefighting,andit'sashitshowthere.
Like,wewereabouttostartthrowingdishesateachother.
Ineedtolaylowforthenight.
"IrememberedwhenIwatchedBatmanwhenIwasyounger.
ThesillyonewiththerealactorsthatIcouldn'trememberthenamesof.
Therewasalwayssomevillainreadytotakeadvantageoftheinnocent.
Iaskedmydadifmurderersweregoingtocometoourhouse.
Mydadsaidmaybe.
Isaidhowmuchmaybe.
Hesaid,anythingispossible.
"Areyouheretorobme"Iasked.
Istuckmyhandinmypocket,wrappingmyfingersaroundmyphone.
Ihadneverusedtheemergencycallfeature—oneswipeaway—butIcouldnow.
Maybethepolicewouldusegrapplinghooks.
Butthisguydidn'tlookliketherobbingtype.
Tyler'spupilsdilated.
"Hellno,man!
Ijustneedaplacetosleep.
"Iletgoofmyphone,drawingmyhandslowlyoutofmypocket,asifwewereabouttoduel.
ButIhatedWesterns.
Dadloved'em.
IthoughtI'djudgethisguyafewmoreminutesbeforeIfired.
"Okay,"Isaid.
"Uh,okay.
Yeah.
""Thanks,man,thanks.
"Tylerputhishandonmyshoulderagain,givingitashake.
"You'rethedude,man.
"Ididn'tfire.
…Thenextmorning,IwokeupandtwomenweresittingonmycouchandTylerwasinthekitchen.
Ismelledsomethingburning.
12"Shit,Tyler!
"Oneofthenewguysyelled,standingbytheTV.
HewasskinnierthanevenIwas—arealbeanpole,thisone—withgreasyblackhairandalargehooknose.
HepickedupthepictureofGret,squintingatit,obviouslynotthatalarmed.
Theotherdudewashalf-asleep,eyelidsdrooped,staringattheblankTV.
Hehadabeaniepulledoverhislonghairwithapictureofarainbow-coloredunicorn.
"Uh,"IsaidasIwalkedfurtherintotheroom.
IunceremoniouslygrabbedGret'spictureoutofBeanpole'shand,holdingittomychestandlookingaroundthecornerintothekitchen.
Tylerwasbalancingononefoot,onehandholdingasmokingpanunderthesinkfaucet,watersplashingontothecountersandthefloor,whilehisotherhandfiddledwiththedialonthestove.
"Mydude!
"Tylersaid,overlycheerfulashisfacelookedilluminatedinathinlayerofsweat.
"Goodmorning.
ThoughtI'dmakebreakfast,yaknowTosaythanksforlettingmecrash.
Thatfutonisseriouslyawesome,man.
But,like,yousee—""Tylercan'tcookforshit,"Beanpolefinished.
"Whoisinthathotchickinthepicture""Noone,"Isaid.
IwatchedTyler.
"Ilookedonline,okay"Tylersaid,catchingmygazeonlyforamoment.
Ifinallyheardtheclickofthestovedialfindingtheoffposition,andhedroppedthepan,nowsizzlingquietly,intothesink.
Ipeeredoverthesoakedcounterandcouldnottellwhathewasoriginallymaking,theentirebottomofthepanhadalayerofblackgoop.
"RachelRaypostsvideosonline.
Don'tyouguyskindathinkshe'sababe""Ifshecouldcookforme,totally.
"Beanpolesatonthecouchnowthattheimpendingdangerwasover.
Hescratchedhiscrotchandyawnedbeforeproppinghisfeetonmycoffeetable,hissandalscoveringthefewskiingmagazinesIhousedthere.
I'dbeenthinkingofsavingupandgoingwithintheyear.
Myparentsusedtotakemeskiingasakid,untiltheygottooold13andmymomwatchedsomedocumentaryormovieaboutayoungboyfallingandnearlydyingonaslopebeforebeingkidnapped—stillontheslope—bysomedudewhomurderedhimintheconnectingwoods.
AndDadthoughtmyparanoiawasweird.
"Sexist,dude,"TylersaidabouttheRachelRaycomment.
Heleftthesinkrunningandwalkedaroundthecountertotheadjoininglivingroom,whichconnectedtotheadjoininghallwaywhereIstillhalf-stood,half-balancedtoseeintothekitchen.
HesatdownnexttoUnicornBeanie,whofullywokeupwithasnort.
"Well,"Beanpolesaid,"guessthat'sbreakfast.
""Uh,"Isaid,"I'mguessingyouguysknewtheguywhousedtolivehere,too""Oh,yeah,Peter,"BeanpolesaidasTylernoddedsohardIcouldalmosthearthebonesinhisneckcracking.
UnicornBeaniestaredatthetelevision,inatrance.
"Greatguy.
He'steachingkidsinArgentinanow,youknow.
""Iheard,"Ireplied.
"Howlongareyoustayinghere"Iglancedoverallthreeofthem,eventhoughIassumedTylerwastheirchosenleader.
Isteppedbackandcarefullyplacedthepicturebackwhereitbelonged,rightabovetheTVsoIcouldalwaysseeboththetelevisionandtheframefromthecouch.
"Oh,notlong,bro,"Tylersaid,shrugging.
…Thatafternoon,Icamehomefromthestorewiththreebagsofgroceries—paperonly,asmymothertaughtmetosavetheenvironment!
—andtheonlyoccupantinmyhomewasUnicornBeanie.
Hewassleepingonthecouch,butsatuplikeadeadcorpsewhenIslammedthefrontdoorbehindme.
"Hey,"hesaidasIlookedathim.
"TylerandZanderwenttowork.
"14"Hi,"Isaid.
Ididn'tevenknowhe'dnoticedmethismorning.
IwasimaginingZanderequaledtoBeanpole,unlesstherewasanothersparekeyowner.
"Whatareyoustilldoinghere"Helookedaroundasifthatquestionbaffledhim.
"FellasleepwatchingAnimalPlanet.
Didyouknowthatslothsgrowalgaeonthem""Algae"Iasked.
Icouldfeelthecoldnessofthemilkjuginoneofthebagsstingingmyforearm.
"Yeah,causetheydon'tmovesofastsothey'rekindalikeasittingrock,sothealgaejustgrowsonthem,orsomething.
""Oh,"Isaid.
"It'sprettyweird.
"UnicornBeaniestraightenedhisunicornbeanie.
"Tothinkthey'vesurvivedthislongduringourwholeevolutionthing.
Iguessit'sthoseclaws.
"Myparentsneverletmeinvitepeoplealongforourskiingtrips.
Theysaidtheywouldn'tberesponsibleforanyone'skidsgettinghurt(orlater"kidnappedandmurdered"asmymotherwouldspecify),andIonlyhadonefriendinhighschoolandcollege,anyways.
HernamewasGretel.
Yeah,likethefairytale.
Shealwayssaidhermommusthavebeenhighonpainmedswhenshefilledouttheforms.
ButGretelwentbyGret,whichI'mnotsureisanybetter.
Buttherealironywasthatitwasn'tawitchthatkilledGret,butadrunkdriver,whichwasmaybeevenmoreclichéinsometwisted,darkhumorkindofwayIsn'tthatalwaysthecasewithpeopledyingThedrunkdriverhavingaslightconcussionwhilethevictim,whowassober,isleftmutilatedThat'swhatMomsaidwhenithappenedafewyearsback.
Afewweeksafterwetookthegraduationpicturetogether.
"What'dyabuy"UnicornBeanieasked.
"What"15HepointedtothebagsIrealizedwerestillinmyarms.
Myforearmwasnumbed.
"Justsomestandardstuff,"Isaid.
"Gotanyveggiechips"heasked.
"Uh,"Isaid.
"No.
"Helookedreallydistraughtatthis.
"Peteusedtoalwaysbuyveggiechips.
""Pete""Peter.
""Oh.
""Yeah.
""WhatisheteachingthekidsinArgentina"Iasked.
UnicornBeaniestaredatthebrownbags.
"Idon'tknow.
Heneversaid.
Justsaidhewasgoingtochangethelivesoftheyouthorsomemotivational-posterbullshit.
IthinkPetertookonetoomanypillswhenhesignedupforthat.
""Buthehadtotaketestsandstuff,right"Iasked.
"They'renotjustgoingtoletanyonedothat.
""Yeah,"UnicornBeanienodded.
"Guessyou'reright.
"Hecontinuedtostareatthebags,soIaskedifhewantedtohelpputthemaway.
HemovedsoslowlythatIcheckedthebackofhissweatshirttomakesurealgaewasn'tgrowingonhim.
…MomcalledthatnightasItuckedmyselfintobedwithmyheadphonesin.
Tyler,Zander,andUnicornBeaniewereinthelivingroomplayingwhatsoundedlikeaveryintensegameofPictionary.
Orcharades.
Ikepthearingrandomnounsshouted,soIhopedthatwasthecase.
16"Hello"Ianswered,pullingtheheadphonesfree.
"Hi,honey,"Momreplied.
"Sorrytocallsolate.
"Itwas8:00.
"How'sthenewapartment""ZEBRA!
"(maybe)Zanderyelled.
Ileanedoverinbed,myfingertipsbarelyabletoskimthedoorframeenoughtopushmybedroomdoorclosed.
"It'sgood,"Isaid.
"Settlinginokay,then""Yeah.
"Isaid.
MoremuffledshoutsfromtheotherroomlikerobotandgardenerandPeterthatonetimehegottoohigh.
"Myson,up-and-cominginthatbigcity,"MomsaidinthatveryMom-likeway,liltingherwordslikeshewascheesingitup.
"Aretherealotofpeople""ROCKETPROPELLEDGRENADE,"answeredfromtheotherroom.
"Toomany,"Isaid.
"Aw,honey.
"Momloweredhertone,riddingherselfofthecheese.
"Rememberwhatwetalkedabout"ShehadlecturedmeafewnightsbeforeIlefthome,withDadsilentlyreadingthepaperintheLa-Z-Boyplacedinfrontofthefireplace,abouthowIneededtobranchoutmore.
Makefriends.
Gotochurchgroupsandmeetgirls.
Maybegotothelibraryandstartreadingsomethingwithawardstickersonthefront.
"Yeah,"Isaid.
"Itcanbehard,"shesaid.
"Tomeetpeople.
"Iclosedmyeyes,listeningtomoreguessesfromtheguysintheotherroom.
"Yeah.
""—afterGret,youknow,"Momsaid.
"Yeah.
"17"It'sjustbeen…""Yeah.
""Icancomevisit,"shesaid.
"StaytheweekendMaybeconvinceyourfathertocome.
""It'sokay,"Isaid.
"I'mfine.
"Afterwe'dhungup,Iwalkedintothelivingroom.
UnicornBeaniewasstandingstill,hiseyeswidenedashefacedthefuton.
"Deerintheheadlights!
"Tyleryelled.
BothheandZanderwerestanding.
Zanderhadhisfistsclenchedlikethisgamewoulddecidethefateoftheirlives.
UnicornBeaniedidn'tanswer.
"Owl,"Isaid.
UnicornBeanieturned,soslowlyhereallywaslikeanowlturninghisheadaround,exceptnotquiteasfar.
"Yeah,"hesaid.
"Dude!
"Zandersaid,allthreeofthemnowstaring.
"Niceone!
""Getoverhere,Pete,"Tylersaid.
"It'smyturn.
"Ididn'tcorrectthem.
Iwentandstoodbytheminfrontofmyfuton.
…Theystayedatmyapartmentforthreeweeks.
Idon'tknowiftheyreallylikedme,orjustwantedareplacement.
Theyonlyslippeduponmynameagainafewtimes(Zandersaying"Peter,dude,youhavegottolightenup,"andUnicornBeaniesaying,"Pete,Ilovemynickname")butusuallyjustdudeorbroorsomeotherplaceholderformewouldsuffice.
Ididn'ttellthemwhatmynameactuallywas.
ItoldMomaboutthem.
Lightenedthemupalittle,leftoutthedrugstuff,thebadqualities.
ItwaslikeIwantedtowritethisstory,howImetTylerfirstinlinetogetcoffeeand18wetalkedaboutwhereIcouldbuyafuton,howImetZanderwhenthewaiteratarestaurantswitchedourorders,howUB(Idecidedthefullnicknamewouldblowmycover)hadbeenfriendswithTylerandtaggedalongwiththefourofus.
Momateitallup,andIcouldalmosthearherlickingherlipsattheendofournightlyphonecalls.
Iguessitfeltkindagood.
Tobeapartofsomething.
TowatchAnimalPlanetandseetheseweird,multi-coloredpillsthatmademefeelhappyandrelaxedandlaughmore.
Tocookshittydinnersthatatleastweren'tburnttoacrisp—IwasshortthatonepanIwasforcedtoretirebecauseoftheBreakfastIncident,whichwealwaysjokedabout.
UBhungthepanonthewallassomesortofinsidejoke,somethingwecouldlaughabout,whileTylerpretendedtobeoffended,whilelaughingalong,too.
ItoldthemaboutGret,showedthemallthepicture,andtheysaidhowmuchitsuckedandanytimesomeonediesitjustsucksandtheotherdrivershouldhavediedalongwithher.
Itoldthemabouthowmymomcametothefuneralwithmeassupport,whilemydadflewoverseastomeetwithaclientinLondon.
Iknewitwasweird;IknewIshouldtellthemthattheynevershouldhavecomehere,thattheywereweirdforthinkingastrangerwouldtakethemonlikethisbutIwasequallyasweirdforlettingthemstay.
Butweplayedgamesandsmokedandswallowedthosepillsandmaybealongthewayitwasjustthat…something.
Somethingpreviouslymissingfrommylife.
Somethingthatmaybehadoncebeentherebutwastakenawaybyforce.
…Onemorning,Iwokeup,mymouthfeelingdryandmyheadfeelinglikemybrainhadbeensqueezedoutofmyears.
Iblinkedaroundmybedroom,checkingmyalarmclock.
IhadmyjobatacallcenteraroundtheblocksoIcouldwalk'causeIdidn'thaveacar.
ButIdidn'tworkthatday.
Lastnight,I'dtoldtheguysaboutit,andallnightwepretendedtowearheadsets,all19saying,PleaseholdandWewillbewithyoushortlyandWe'resosorryfortheinconvenience.
I'dlaughedsohardwatercameoutofmynoseandhadlandedonUB,whoyelledandlaughedandstruggledoutofhishoodie.
Iwentintothelivingroomanditwasempty.
Ididn'tknowwhattimeitwas.
Inthekitchen,Ifoundanoteonthecounter,helddownbyanemptybeercan.
Dude,Wegotbusted,man.
Landlordfoundoutwehadthesparekeysandweweren'tsupposedto.
It'sbeenfun,though,bro!
Wehumblythankyoufortheentertainmentandthelaughs.
You'retheman.
-TheguysIstaredatthenote,writteninsuchsloppyscriptIcouldbarelymakeoutthewords.
OrmaybeitwasbecauseIcouldn'tseeright,myeyesightblurring.
Ididn'tknowtheirlastnames.
Ididn'tknowtheirphonenumbers.
Ididn'tknowwheretheylived.
Theyalwayscamehere.
Maybe,Ithought,they'llstillcomeover.
Losingsparekeysdoesn'tmeanIcan'tletthemin.
…Onemonthlater,asIburnedsomebacon,theedgesasblackasthepanthatIhadpulledfromthewall,Iunderstoodtheyweren'tcomingback.
I'dbeenablipintheirlives,aconvenience,afuton,aTVwithmorethanthebasicchannels,afourthmembertotheirgames.
20IrememberedwhenIaskedmydadhowtomakefriends.
PeoplethoughtIwastooquiet,neversaidtherightthings,leftmealoneatrecess.
Mydadsaidtotalktopeople.
IsaidIdid.
Hesaid,Manup.
Thebaconcontinuedtoblacken,andIthoughtofGret,howshehadleft,too.
Inanequallypermanentandunfindableway.
IglancedatherpictureontheTVunit,frontandcenter,catchingtheshineofherteeth,hereyesdarkfromthisangle.
Inmychest,Ifeltapang.
Ihadlovedher.
Stilldid.
Myphonerang,andItookthepanoffthestove.
ItwasMom.
"Goodmorning!
"shesaid,cheeryasever.
She'dbeensoproudofmyfalseaccomplishments.
"Anybigplanstodaywiththoseboysofyours"Istaredatthenotetheyleftonthecounter,stillsittingrightwhereI'dfoundit.
"Yeah,"Isaid.
"We'llprobablydosomethinglater.
""Oh,that'sgreat,honey,justgreat,"shesaid.
"I'msohappy.
""Yeah.
""Ijustworriedforabit,youknowThat'dyoustayunderyourlittlecloudand…""Yeah.
""ButIthinkthoseboysreallyhelpedyoucomeoutfromunderneaththatlittleraincloudandintothelight.
""Yeah.
"Ipickeduptheburntbacon,shovingitinmymouth.
Ittastedlikeashes.
"IsDadaround""Oh,well,he'sbusyinthisofficerightnow.
Hecancallyoulater,though,ifhehastime.
""Yeah.
"Ifeltmyfacetwistup,eitherfromthebitternessofthebaconorsomethingelse.
21"Well,I'llletyougo,hon,butI'llcalltonight,okay"shesaid.
Ihungupandatetherestoftheburntbacon,burningmytongue,beforeIthrewthepanaway.
Theclunkasithitthebottomofthetrashcanseemedtoecho.
22AFAREWELLTOTHEMOUNTAINS"Maybe.
.
.
you'llfallinlovewithmealloveragain.
""Hell,"Isaid,"Iloveyouenoughnow.
WhatdoyouwanttodoRuinme""Yes.
Iwanttoruinyou.
""Good,"Isaid.
"That'swhatIwanttoo.
"ErnestHemingway,AFarewelltoArmsAFerrari.
No,aBMW.
No,maybeaPorsche.
WerethosetooclichéEitherway,ithadtobeaconvertible.
Onewithatopthatgoesdownsmoothandslick.
Onethatcelebritiesdrove.
Maybewiththosedoorsthatopenedupwards.
Thosewerealwaysonexpensivecars.
ItwouldbejustthatFerrari/BMW/Porsche,andchilled,mountainousair.
Maybetherewouldbe,probablytherewouldbe,pinetreesliningtheroad.
LikeBatmandrivingtohislair.
OrJamesBondgoingtoasecludedmansiontosleepwithhisuncharacterizedmistress.
"Herbert"Herbertlookedupfromhisbook,TheFarewelltoRisingSuns.
Wait,no,AFarewelltoArms.
Thatwasit.
Right.
Hiscoworker/managerstoodabovehim,handsonherhipsandpoppingherchewinggumafewtimeslikegunshots.
"What"Herbertasked.
"Yourbreakendedtenminutesago;whatareyoustilldoingbackhere"sheaskedhim.
Sheworethesamemustard-yellowpolothathedid.
Itlookedalittlelikebabydiarrheasmeared23onashirt.
Hishadaholeinthecollarthatgrewlargereachtimehetookatriptothelaundromat.
Helikedtostickhisthumbthroughtheholewhenhehadidlehands.
"Oh.
"Herbertstoodupfromthefoldingtableinthebreakroom,aspacebarelybigenoughtofitatable,muchlessthetwelvepeoplewhoworkedforPumpin'andRollin'.
Earlier,he'dhadtotellaconfusedmanthat,no,thiswasnotsomeundercoverpornstoreand,yes,thegaspumpsoutfrontwereactuallygaspumpsandnotwhateverthemanhadthoughttheywere(Herbertdidnotask).
"Didyouknow,"hesaidashepushedinhischairandbegantofollowhismanager—hernamewasGrace,andhe'dtriedtogetwithherformonthswithabsolutelynosuccess—outtheswinging,stainedbreak-roomdoorandintothegasstationlobby.
"Hemingwayissuchagreatwriter.
HaveyoueverreadanythingI'verecommended""No,"Gracesaid,rearrangingsomeSlimJimsnearthefrontregister.
Bobby,thethirdandfinalmemberworkingthatshift,wasdolingoutchangetoanoldwomanwithasmalldoginherbag.
ThedoglookedatHerbertandraisedalip,shakingsobadlythatitmadetheowner'searringssway.
Thethreeemployeeswereallaroundthesameage,twentyorso—Herbertlikedtotellhimselfthatitwasromantic,somehow,thethreeofthemworkingthroughthistransitionaltimebothliterallyandmetaphorically.
Hehadn'tfiguredoutthemetaphoryet.
"Whynot"heaskedGraceaboutthebooks.
"BecauseIdon'twantto.
""Youcouldcomeoversometime.
Icouldreadyousomeofhisstuff.
It'sincredible.
Totallyrevolutionaryforhistimeperiod.
""No.
"24Herbertshrugged,grinned,andduckedbehindthefrontcounter.
Heslidthebooknexttohiskeysandwalletonalittleshelfunderwheretheregistersat.
Inthelatesummerofthatyearwelivedinahouseinavillagethatlookedacrosstheriverandtheplaintothemountains.
AboxwassittingforHerbertontheshelfbelowthecounter,fullofsportsdrinksthathadbeendeliveredthatmorning.
Hetooktheboxandmadeitbacktotherefrigerationsectionbehindtheshelves.
Healwayslikeditbackthere,inthesmallspace,wherehecouldremainhiddenfromcustomers,quietlystockingtheirdrinksandwatchinghandsreachin,receivingwhatheprovided.
Hisbreathfogginginfrontofhim,hebeganpackinginthedrinks.
Therewasanotherboxofmilksittingtohisright,meanttobestockedyesterday.
Ashecontinuedworking,hethoughtofwhathehadtodowhenhegotoffworkatthreea.
m.
:callIndigo(shealwayswantedhimtocalltomakesurehe"gothomesafe"),finishreadingTheFarewelltoRisingSuns,andthenstayupontherooftopofhisapartmentonthebadsideoftown,watchingthestars.
Peoplewatchedthestars.
Watchingstarswasathingpeopledid.
Usually,itjustputHerberttosleep.
Ashefinishedstockingthesportsdrinksandbeganwiththemilk,hethoughtofthemountainsagain.
Thewhitetips,thesheerheightofthem.
Thefactthatnomatterwherehestood,theywouldalwaysbealoomingpresence,reliableinaway.
Inthelatesummerofthatyearwelivedinahouseinavillagethatlookedacrosstheriverandtheplaintothemountains.
…"Seriously"hissisterClariceaskedasHerbertsatdownacrossfromherinasmallcoffeeshopthefollowingmorning,placinghisbookandblackcoffeedowncarefully.
Thesteam25fromthedrinkreachedupinabeautifullyaestheticwaythatHerbertwatchedforamomentbeforesittingdown.
"What"heasked.
"Whyareyoustillpretendingtoreadthatshit"sheasked,noddingathisbook.
Herbertputahandonhisbook,asifabouttoswearonitlikethosewhowereChristiansdidwiththeirBible.
"Iamreadingit.
"ClariceblewonherChaitealatte,herbrightredlipspuckering,andthenasked,"What'sitabout""He'saminimalistwriter.
""Cool.
What'sitabout""Youwouldn'tunderstand,"hesaid.
"Ifyouhaven'treaditbefore.
""Great.
So,like,what'sitabout"Herbertwasnotplayingthisgame.
Clarice,hisonlysibling,wasamolecularbiologistworkinginahugelabthatsatontheoutskirtsoftown,alwaysremindinghimofsomegovernmental,undercoverinstitution.
Shewouldn'tappreciateatruerevolutionarylikeHemingway.
"Howarethefolks""Well,let'ssee.
"Clariceputherchininherpalm.
"Mom'sdrinkingbrandy,Dad'sdrinkingscotch.
Theyhadmeoverfordinnerafewnightsagotodiscusspolitics.
""Interesting,"Herbertsaidintohiscoffeecup.
Lightreflectedofftheliquidandhewishedhecouldlookupandseepatternsontheceiling,likewithmirrortricks.
"Theydidn'tmentionyou,don'tworry.
""Idon'tcare.
"Claricehummed.
Shesippedatherdrink.
26Theclocktickedbesidethemonthewall,anoldpiecemadeoutofcarpartsfashionedwithclockhands.
Acrosstheroom,onanotherwall,hungapaintingofacaterpillarcomingoutofacocoon.
Notthemosttouchingimagetostareatwhilesippingacupofjoe,butHerbertthoughtitwascharmingthewaythecoffeeplacesoldartfromlocals.
Madethewholethingseemliketheyweresomehappyfamilyalljoinedthroughacommunalsupport.
Herbert'sphonerang:Peyton.
"Hello"heanswered,ignoringClarice'slookofdisapprovalandsupremejudgement.
"Hey,"Peytonsaid.
Usually,shealwayssaid,Heybaby,butPeytonwasstillupsetwithhim.
Lastweek,duringintercourse,he'dcriedoutIndigo'snameinsteadofhers.
Itdidnotendwellforeitherofthem.
Sheknewhedatedmorethanonewoman—sheshouldgetit.
Hismotheralwayssaidhehadthose"dashinggoodlooksandcharm,"whichsoundedlikesomethingsomeonewouldsayinthetwenties.
Thatwasbeforethebanishment.
HecouldusethatcharmtogetPeyton'sforgiveness.
"What'sup"Herbertasked,puttingasmileinhisvoice.
"Justatthemallwithmysister.
Whatareyoudoing""I'mwithClarice.
Shesayshi.
"Clariceflippedhimthebird.
"Tellherhi.
""Willdo.
"Charm,charm,charm.
"So,buyinganythingspecialatthatonelingeriestoreinthemallTheoneyoulikesomuch""No.
""NotevensomethingalittlespecialMaybeyoucanshowme"27Clariceshovedherselfupfromthetableandwalkedtowardsthebathroomsintheback.
"No,Ihaven'tthoughtaboutdoinganyofthat.
""Oh,Isee.
"Herberttookasipofhiscoffeetocreateadramaticpause.
"Everthetease,aren'tyou,Pey-Pey""IwaswonderingwhenIcouldgetmystuff,"shesaid.
"Yourweed""No.
""YourT-shirtyouleftthatonetime""Ididn'tleaveaT-shirtthere'thatonetime,'Herbert.
"Hm.
MaybethathadbeenRegina.
"Whatdidyouleaveatmyplace""TheshitIhaveinmydrawer,"shesaid.
"What"Herbertputhiscoffeedown.
"Listen,Herbert.
"Peytonsighedlongandlowandalittlewheezy.
Shesufferedfromasthma,anditwasprimeallergyseason.
"I'mnothangingoutatyourplaceanymore,okay""Okay,"Herbertsaid.
"Imean,I'vetriedtomakeitbethebestitcanbe,despitethecircumstances.
Wecanjustgotoyourplace.
"HerplacewasacrosstownandwouldforceHerberttotakethebus,butinthelastyearhe'dmemorizedallthebusroutes.
"Idon'twantyouatmyplace,either.
Ijustcan'tdothispolygamousthinganymore.
I'mdonewithit.
I'mnotonTheBachelor.
""I'dgiveyouaroseanytime,baby.
"Staticfilledthelineforexactlysevenseconds.
"I'mpickingupmystufftomorrow.
I'llusethesparekeyifyou'renotthere.
Bye.
"Hisphonebeepedathim,endingthecall.
28Herbertstaredatthecaterpillarmoreintensely,imaginingwhatitmustbeliketoconfinehimselfintosomethingsosmallandclaustrophobic,andthentoemergeandnotevenrecognizehimself.
"What'sthenews,HerbertthePervert"Clariceaskedasshereturnedtothetable,nearlyknockingoverhercupoftea.
Herbertputahandonhisbookinpreparationofthespill,butshecorrectedthecupjustintime.
"Idon'tlikethatnickname.
""Well,Idon'tlikethewayyoutreatwomen.
So,we'reeven.
"Herberttookalongdrinkofhiscoffee,feelingitburnhistongueandmakinghiseyeswaterasitcascadeddownhisthroatlikelava.
"Peytonjustcheckingin,"hesaid.
"Whichoneisshe"Clariceasked.
"Theonestudyingtobeateacher,"hesaid.
"Oh.
Sure,yeah.
"Clarice,Herbertknew,hadnoideawhohewastalkingabout.
BythetimePeytonhadclearedoutherdrawer—whilehehadbeenatashiftatPumpin'andRollin'—he'dtoldhimselfshe'dneverreallyexisted,anyhow.
HerdrawerhefilledwithHemingwayessayshefoundonlineandprinted,butneverread.
…Inthemiddleofthenight,hecalledhisparent'shouse,sittingonthefireescapeoutsidehisbedroomwindowwherehegotthebestreception.
Nooneanswered.
Nooneeveranswered,orlistened,ortalkedaboutanythingreal.
Helookedatthestars,atthemountainsinthedistance.
Hethoughthe'dliketohaveaMustang,nottooflashybutstillaniceride.
29Inthelatesummerofthatyearwelivedinahouseinavillagethatlookedacrosstheriverandtheplaintothemountains.
…Atworkafewdayslater,ashesatinthebreakroom,hisphoneattemptedtoloadanemail.
Herbertheldhisbookandwaited.
ItwasfromHarvardUniversity.
RightbeforeGracecameinandtoldhimhistimewasup,theemailfinallyappearedonhiscrackedscreen:DearMr.
Stevenson,ThisisDr.
KentonWilliams.
Ihavespokenextensivelywithyourfather,mygoodfriend,aboutyourapplicationandyourlettersofrecommendation.
Iwassurprisedtocheckyourrecordsandonlyfindanemailfromyoutoanadvisingprofessorintheliteraturedepartmentthatsaid:"Idon'tneedyouruniversitytobesmart.
Fuckyou,Herby.
"Wearebothconcernedaboutyou,sinceIwassoimpressedwithyourboyishwitandeagernesswhenImetyouwithyourmotherlastyear.
Iwonderifthisissomesortoferror,orifyouremailaccountwashacked.
Iwouldlovetomeetwithyouanddiscussyourfutureenrollmentatouruniversity.
Yourfather'sobservatoryshouldbebuiltbythen—it'llbequitethesight!
Sincerely,Dr.
Williams"Herbert.
"TherestoodGrace,poppinggumagain.
HowhermouthworkedlikethattopopeverybubbletotheextentwhereitsoundedlethalmarveledHerbert.
"Readanythingyet"heaskedashefollowedher,slippinghisphoneintohisbackpocket.
Hewaggledhisbookinfrontofherface.
30Sheswattedatitandhedroppedit,nearlysteppingonit.
Toavoiddoingso,heranintothedisplayofsuckers,knockingtheentirestandover.
Brightcolorsflewacrossthefloorlikesomespontaneouscelebrationwastakingplace.
Herbertpickeduphisbook.
Thenhebeganpickingupthesuckers.
…Reginatookhimtothebiggestparkinthecity,bringingacharmingplaidblanketandspreadingitonthegrass.
ItseemedlikesomethingHemingwaywouldwriteinascene.
"Whatareyouthinkingabout"sheaskedhimastheysprawledoutontheblankettogether,herheadrestingonhischest.
"You,"Herbertsaid,strokingherhair.
"Icanhearyourheartbeats.
I'dliketocountthem,"shesaid.
Reginastudiedliteratureattheuniversityintown.
"Theyallbelongtoyou,"hesaid.
Shenuzzledherfaceintohisshirt.
Thenshesatup,thesunstrikingherblondehairasshelookedbackathimoverhershoulder.
"NeedanymoreofmyHemingwaynotes"sheaskedhim.
"No,"Herbertsaid.
Shesmiled,allwhite,perfectteeth.
Shelookedstraightoutofamodelingshoot.
"Yousomesortofexpertnow"Hefelthisfaceflush.
"Ididn'tneedyournotes.
IunderstoodwhatHemingwaywantedmetoknowfromtheveryfirstlineIreadfromhim.
"Reginalaughed,throwingherfaceuptothesun.
Herbert'sfacegrewhotter,butnotfromthebeautifulwomaninfrontofhim.
31"Really,"hesaid.
"I'vereadallhisstufftwicenow.
""Okay,"Reginasaid.
Shestoodup,brushingoffhershirt.
"Wanttogetsomeicecream""No,"Herbertsaid.
"Aw,poorboy.
"Reginalookeddownathim,stillsmiling.
"DidIhurtyourfeelings""No,"hesaid.
"Sureseemslikeit.
"Hesatback.
"Justhadaspatwithafriend.
Youknowhowitis.
"Hethoughtofhisdresser,hethoughtoftheletterfromDr.
Williams.
Ifhehadtheemailasatypedletter,wouldhehaveburneditorstoreditHecontemplatedthisimaginarydilemma.
Hedecideditwouldhaveburned.
"Afriend"Shecockedherheadtooneside.
"Well,no.
Yes.
Anyway.
"Keepthingsbrisk.
Don'texplain.
Hemingwaywouldhavehatedallthisemotionhewasproducing.
"Doyoueverhavedreamsofdriving"Herbertasked.
Nature.
Hemingwaylikednature.
Orsohe'dheard.
"What""Driving.
Onsomeroads.
"Hemotionedtowardsthegeneraldirectionofthemountains.
Healwaysknewwheretheywere,likehismindhadsomecompassburiedinit,alwayspointingtowhathewanted.
Andhealwayswantedthemountains.
Inthelatesummerofthatyearwelivedinahouseinavillagethatlookedacrosstheriverandtheplaintothemountains.
"No,"Reginasaid.
Aweeklater,hehadanotheremptydrawerinhisdresser.
…32Theairconditioninginhisapartmentcomplexwentoutsuddenlyonenight,andHerbertfeltenteringPumpin'andRollin'wasasortofsafe-haven.
Asheclockedin,hegotacallfromClarice.
"Dadsaysyouneedtoemailthatprofessorback,"shesaid.
Herberthidbehindthelotterycardstand.
"What""Idon'tknow.
That'sjustwhathetoldmethismorningatbrunch.
""Youhadbrunchwithhim"Heheardgumpopping.
Gracemustbecloseby,readytonailhimforbeingonthephonewhileclockedin.
"Yeah.
He'sdrinkingcidernow.
Itwasreallyrivetingconversation.
Hetalkedabouttrimmingtheshrubsoutside.
Momwassilent,asusual.
Lotsofwine.
Buthebroughtupsomeemailaprofessorsentyou.
Guesspopsandthisprofessorarebestbudsorsomething.
""Oh.
""Imean,"Claricesaid,"youdon'thavetoemailhim.
Again,I'mjustrestatingwhatDadsaid.
Iwishyouwouldjustgooverthereandtalktothem.
Ithinkthey'dcomearoundandthenI'dbeoutofthisawkwardposition.
""TheytoldmeIwasn'tallowedbackinthehouseuntilIbroughtacollegeacceptanceletterwithme.
""Theywereprobablybeingdramatic.
""MomandDadaren'texactlyperformanceartists.
"Claricesighed.
"Sure,right.
Theyneverpretend.
Justdosomething,okay"Gumpoppedrightinhisunoccupiedear.
"Offthephone,Herbert,"Gracesaid.
…33Herberthidintherefrigerationsection,takingextratimestockingthedrinks.
Hetookhisbookwithhimandreadandrereadthefirstpageoverandoveruntilthewordswerejumbledinhisbrain,mushingtogether.
…beyondtheplainthemountainswerebrownandbare.
Therewasfightinginthemountainsandatnightwecouldseetheflashesfromtheartillery.
Inthedarkitwaslikesummerlightning,butthenightswerecoolandtherewasnotthefeelingofastormcoming.
WhyfightinthemountainsWhatwassummerlightningWasitdifferentthaninthewinterSurely,Herbertthough,he'dfeltthefeelingofastormcomingduringthenighttimehours,notjustduringtheday.
AndwhythewarWhatwarWherearethemetaphorsHerippedoutthefirstpageandstuckittothecondensationonacontaineroforangejuiceandleftitthere.
Afewdayslater,hehadn'tsentanyemails,andhefoundthattheparticularorangejuicewiththepagestuckonithadnotbeensold.
…Itfeltstrangeonlyseeingonewoman.
He'dgrownupseeinghisfatherhavemultipleaffairsthathisfathersomehowbelievedhekeptsecretfromhiskidsandwife.
Hisfathercouldonlycomehomewithsomanylipstickstainsonhisclothesandsomanypantieshismotherfoundwhiledoinglaundryandsetonthetablethenextmorning,likeamorbidplacemat,foreveryonetobecomeawareofthesituation.
Hisdadknewshedidthis,butkepton,asifwonderingwherethebreakingpointwouldbeset.
Eventhoughnoonewasallowedtotalkaboutit.
Eventhoughnoonewasallowedtotalkaboutnottalkingaboutit.
Notalking,onlythebasics.
VeryHemingway.
34Hislastlove,hislastgirl—Hemingwayhadmanywives,too—Indigo.
Shelikedtowearlongskirtsandhadhairthatalwayscurled,especiallyintherain.
Shewenttoprotestsandpaintedsigns.
He'dneverjoinedher.
Herbertdidn'tliketocommittoanyparticularpoliticalview,orreligiousview,orlifeview.
Hejuststockeddrinksatagasstationandreadthesamebookoverandover.
Indigobroughthimtoanopen-micnightforpoetry.
Herbertsatbesideher,nursingabeer,whileawomanmoanedandgroanedaboutarug.
Sheswayedonstage,eyeshalf-closed,likesomesortofpossessionexperience.
Besidehim,Indigoremainedriveted.
Shenudgedhimafewtimes,herfaceshowingtheexpressionofhowimpressiveisthisHerbertnoddeduntilhisneckbegantocrackwitheachbob.
Hefeltlikehewascompetingatthemostlow-keyheadbangingcompetitioneverheld.
Afterwards,Indigowantedtoknowifshecouldcomehomewithhim.
He'dprintedoffaboutahundredpagesofHemingwayessays—writtenbyothers—andknewtheywerestrewnalloverhisapartment.
He'dprintedandprinteduntilhisprinterranoutofink,thefinalpagesallspittingoutblank.
Hethoughtoftheunderwearstrewnonhisparents'table.
Alwayslacy,alwayssomesortofthong.
"I'mbusy,"Herbertsaid.
"Okay,maybenextweek"Indigoasked.
Astheystalledoutsidethejoint,afewpeoplepassedthem,laughingandsmoking,likelyagroupofintellectualfriendswhohadmetatauniversity.
"I'mgoingtobebusyforawhile.
"Indigoleanedagainstthebrickofthebuilding.
"Whatdoyoumean"35Herbertlookedathisshoes.
"I'mgoingtobebusyforever.
""What"Indigoasked,butheleft.
Shedidn'tgoafterhim.
Thethirddrawerheemptiedthatnight,layingoutIndigo'sclothesonhisbedandstudyingthemforalongwhile.
Shehadleftafewpairsofunderwear.
Hehidthoseatthebottomofthepile.
Hedidnotsendanyemails.
Hedidnottrytocallhisparents.
…Thewalktothemountainstookaboutanhourandahalffromwherehelived.
Alongtheway,heheldouthisthumbmultipletimes,onlytoseeseveralcarszoombywithoutevenlooking.
He'dneverhitchhikedbefore.
Hewonderedifhewasdoingitright.
Itwasalsothreeinthemorning,andhiseyesstillburnedfromstaringupatthestarryskyathisapartment,waitingforsomething.
Finally,hisfeetachingandblistered,hereachedamainroadthatranbetweenthemountains,splittingthemdownthemiddlelikethatonebiblestoryaboutthatonefamouspersonsplittingthesea—howwassuchathingpossibleWhydopeoplebelieveintheimpossibleHelookedupatthemountainsandthepinetreesandbeganwalkinguptheroad.
Severalcars,eventhoughhenolongerneededaride,honkedathim,butthatwasprobablybecauseitwashardtoseearoundtheturnsandHerbertwalkedprecariouslyonthesideoftheroad.
Mostofthehonkingcarsswervedviolentlytoavoidhim.
Theirflashesofheadlightsalmostlookedliketheycouldbeblastsofold,artilleryweapons.
Hegottoaspotwheretherewasasmallclearingonthesideoftheroad,andtherewasnobarrier.
Hesatontheedgeofthecliff.
Somehow,he'dmanagedtofindthespotofhisdreams.
Thecitysatbeneathhisfeet,stretchingoutbeforehim.
Hewishedhecouldpinpointhisparents'house.
Thesprawlinghallwaysandwingsofhischildhoodhomewouldlooklikea36labyrinthfromthisheight.
Thefrontlawnandsurroundpropertylikeamini-golfcourse.
Butitwouldbedistanttohim,evenifhecouldfloatdownandlandrightontheroof.
AFerrariblewbybehindhimontheroad,headlightsblindinghimforseveralmoments.
Ittookoffaroundthebend.
HetookoutAFarewelltoArmsandtriedtoreaditinthemoonlight.
Hiseyesburnedagainfromthestrain.
Orfromthetightfeelinginhisthroat,likesomeonepressingonhisesophagus.
Missingthefirstpageprovedtobedetrimentaltohisunderstanding.
Hereadthesecondpageandtriedtofindmeaning,triedtofindwordsthatstruckhim,stoodouttohim,toldhimwhattodo.
Tothenorthwecouldlookacrossavalleyandseeaforestofchestnuttreesandbehinditanothermountainonthissideoftheriver.
Therewasfightingforthatmountain,too,butitwasnotsuccessful…Heflippedthroughthepages,halflookingforhisname,oranotesomeonehadleftinthemargins.
Thepageswereallblank.
Closingthebook,Herbertranhisthumbsoverthebookcover.
Thenhechuckedthedamnthingoverthecliff.
Hewatchedthepagesflutterlikeabutterflyattemptingtotakeflight,beforethebookplungedintothedarknessbelowhimanddisappearedfromsight.
37THESANTADEALIfBriandidn'thavetotakecareofthesefuckingdeercreatures,he'dbesittingathomerightnow,drinkingeggnogandwatchinghisfavoriteChristmasmovie,TheNightmareBeforeChristmas.
Hisseven-year-olddaughter,Bettie,arguedthatitwasaHalloweenmovie,notaChristmasmovie.
Brianarguedthatit'samasterpiecethatiswatchedbothinOctoberandinDecember.
HecouldcarveapumpkinforHalloweenofJackSkellington'sface,andforChristmas,singthesongaboutkidnappingSandyClaws.
Aperfectmix.
Butthatfatefuleveningjustdidn'tappeartobewritteninthestars.
Instead,hewasbabysittingreindeer.
Thathadn'tbeenapartofhisNoFuck-UpsChristmasPlan.
…Somethirtyminutesprior,hewasleaningclosetohiswindshieldofhis'75Bronco,tryingtofindtheturn-offthatledtoPrettyPineyPlaces,theonlyplaceintownthatsoldauthenticpinetreesforeveryone'sholidayneeds.
Foryears,whenhe'dbeenmarried,hehadn'twantedtogothroughthehassleofgettingarealtree.
Hehadafakeoneshovedinaboxupintheatticthatheusedafterthedivorce,onehiscatdidn'tpeeonanddidn'tleavepineneedlesembeddedinthecarpetuntilValentine'sDay.
AllhewantedwastheauthenticChristmastreetopleaseBettie.
Originally,he'dbeenonhiswaytopickupanystraggling,uglytreesleftoverbeforehepickedBettieupfromhermom'shouse.
Thatway,itwouldseemlikesomefantasticsurpriseinsteadofalast-ditchefforttospreadChristmascheerandshit—wegettoputthetreeintheholdertogetheranddecorateitwhilewatchingTheNightmareBeforeChristmas!
Wow!
Suchfun!
Bettiehatedthemovie,notjustbecauseoftheHalloweendebate,buttheOogieBoogieManmadehercrywhentheseam38comesundoneandallthebugsspillout.
ButitwastheonlyChristmasmovieBrianhad,especiallysincehehadonlybasiccableandshehatedACharlieBrownChristmasevenmore.
ChangingtheradiostationofftheshittyChristmasmusicthatwasoneverysinglestationtocommemorateChristmasEve,hewonderedifthepresenthegotforBettiewouldbebetterthanLouAnne'sgift.
ShewouldprobablygettheirdaughteradamniPhoneorsomeshit.
BettiewasalreadygluedtoBrian'slaptopwheneverBrianworkedondesigningbrochuresandpamphlets—therewasadifference—forthetechcompanyheworkedfor.
Shewouldcryandbegtoplaysomeonlinegamewithlittleslothsthatclimbedtrees.
AllthatwasrequiredtopassthegamewasBettiehittingthespacebar—usuallyagoodpunchwithherfist—whenevertheslothstartedtowobbleandalmostfalloutofthetree.
Brianreallydidn'tthinkthegamewasmind-challengingandmightbemeltingherbraininstead.
AndwhatkindofmorbidshithappenediftheslothdidfalloutofthetreeWouldthegameshowitscarcassontheforestfloorOrmaybeitwouldhitabranchonthewaydownandbendatahorribleangle,scarringchildrenwithinternetaccessallacrosstheworld.
Withtheflashofmulticoloredlightsandthesoundsomewhatlikeayelpingdog,somethingcollidedwiththeroofofBrian'scar.
Hethoughtforafleetingmomentoftheslothbeforethecollidingbecameascrapingandhiscarwasthrownofftheroadandintoaditch.
Brianblinkedhimselfoutoftheairbagandsatbackinhisseat.
Herubbedhisforeheadandmumbledafewcursestoanyonewhomighthearthem.
Whenheloweredhishand,hisknuckleshittheroof,whichnowhadanoddindentation,endingonlyafewinchesabovehishead.
Hegotoutofhiscar,coldairswirlingaroundhim.
Hishair—alwaystoolong,curlingaroundhiscollar—blewintohiseyes.
Betweenthatandtheshakinginhislegs,hethoughtthis39wastheafterlife.
Hesawlights.
WasthiswhatpeoplemeantWhatreallylayattheendofthetunnelHisfatherneverfoundout.
Itsureasfuckdidn'tseemlikeitwouldbeSanta'ssleigh.
Briansteppedaroundthecar,hisfeetcrackingagainstthefrostedgrass,andclimbedtherestofthewayoutofthesmallditch.
Sureenough,SantaClauswassittinginthemiddleofthecornfield,spread-eagle,hisbeardandredsuitdirty.
Hisreindeerwerestrugglingintheirrestraints.
Oneortwohadbrokenfree,flyingabovetherestlikeamobile.
Brianrubbedhisforeheadharder,sohardthelightsbeganblurring.
Santasawhimandstoodup.
"I'msosorry,youngman,"hesaidinwhatwasacertainlyahollyjollytonelikethebookshereadtoBettie.
"So,sosorry.
Mymistake.
Ithoughtwe'dmakeittoKansasCitywithoutcheckingthereins,butImisjudged.
""Whatthefuck"Brianasked.
"Lookatmycar!
"Hemotionedtothehunkofmetal,roofdentedwithsleigh-skid-marksacrossthetoplikesomefailedattemptatarepaint.
Santastood,shakinghishead.
"Ialwaysknewtherewasareasonyouwereonthenaughtylistasaboy.
Thatmouthyouhave.
HowmanybagsofcoaldidyougetIcan'tremember.
"Hegrunted,stretchingouthisarmsandrubbinghisbelly.
Strawstuckoutofhisbeard.
BriandidnotwanttotalkaboutthebagsofcoalhismotheralwaysusedtothrowintothetrashwithapointedlookatBrianlikeSeewhereallthoseF'sonyourreportcardandthatfightyougotintolastweekgotyouSeewhyIamconstantlynaggingyoutostopbeingsuchafuck-upExceptshewouldn'tuse"fuckup.
"No,hismom,whohadgottenpermseveryweekuntilthedayshediedfromthebeautyshoparoundthecornerofhischildhoodhome,wouldhave40remainedasG-ratedaspossible.
SheusedlotsofGollygeesandGoshdarns.
Hewaspracticallyastand-inchildforBeaverCleaver.
Santawavedhisarms.
"Brian,oldchapYouwithme,son""Yes,"Briansaid.
"Iwasjustreminiscingaboutallthatcoal.
Thanksforthat,asshole.
"Santawhistled.
"Onlyprovingmypoint,bud.
""So,canyoufixmycar,orwhat,oldman"Brianasked.
Thetworeindeerthathadbeenflyingnowlanded,oneofthemtakingahugeshitnexttoBrian'stotallytotaledcar.
"Alright,well,youcanseeI'minquiteapickleheremyself,Brian,myboy.
"Santalookedbehindhimandbeganpickingthestrawoutofhisscragglybeard.
"I'mgoingtoneedsometoolsfromhometofixthis.
""I'msosorrythatyou'reinthispredicamentyouputyourselfin,butIneedmycar.
IneedtogetaChristmastree.
""It'sChristmasEve,myboy,"Santasaid.
"Iknow.
""Theonlyonesleftwillbelittletwigs.
"Apause.
"It'sformydaughter.
""Ah,yes.
LittleBettie.
""Uh,yeah.
So,I'minahurry.
"Well,hehadbeeninahurry.
Nowhewasn'tgoinganywhereunlesshesuddenlyjumpedonareindeerandflewtohisdestination.
Thethoughtalmostmadehimlaugh.
LettingBettierideonarealreindeerwouldcertainlyearnhimdad-points.
41"Howabout,"Santacontinued,"youwatchmyboyshere,IgetthethingsIneedtofixmyride,andinreturnI'llgetyouafantasticChristmastreeand,asabonus,anewcar""Ionlyhave,"Brianglancedathiswatch,"halfanhour.
""Oh,I'llbebackinafew,"Santasmiled,notfinishingthedealwithanythingbutawinkandawhoosh.
Hedisappearedintoaflutterofsparkles.
Fuckingsparkles.
Jesus.
Daddy,Bettieaskedhimtheotherday,arewegoingtochurchonSundayMommasaysyouneedtogoandseeJesusthere.
Jesussurewon'tbethere,Brianhadsaid.
Hedidn'taddthatJesuswouldn'tprobablybeanywherehecouldthinkuptolookforhim.
…Hisfatherreallythoughthe'dfoundJesuswhenBrianhadbeenten.
Oneday,hisdad,Harold,camehomewithoneofthoseBiblesthosemenwithwhitehairandbeardsalwayspassedoutonstreetcornersclaspedinhishand.
He'dalreadygottenprettysickatthatpoint,andhishandshook.
"We'regoingtochurchonSunday,"heannounced.
BrianhadbeenonthefloorinthedenplayingwithhisThunderCatsactionfigures,andhismotherhadbeendusting.
Yes,dusting.
Jesus,shehadbeenalivingcliché.
Briandidn'tknowthat,then.
"What,dear"hismotherasked,dustingtheoldgrandfatherclockthathadactuallycomefromBrian'sgrandfather.
Theirony.
Thatmanhadbeenatotalass,too.
"Church.
We'regoing.
Doyoustillhavethatsuit,BrianFromGreatAuntPauline'sfuneral"Brianhadnodded,pausinghispretendfightscenetolookathisfather.
42"TheLordishereforus.
MayheguideustoSalvation,"Haroldsaid.
Hisfatherknewhewouldbedeadsoon,afactthatwaslaterapparenttotheentirefamilyashissearchescalated.
…WhenSantacameback,Brianhadquestionsprepared.
Mainly,hewantedtoaskifhereallywatchedhimwhilehewassleepingandknewwhenhewasawake.
Sawhimgotohisdead-endtechjobandtrytowatchdocumentarieswhenhegothomewithaTV-dinnerinfrontofhimbecausethereceptionist,aprettygirlnamedJoanne,alwaysrecommendedsome,andhewantedtohavesomethingtotalktoherabout.
DidSantaseehimatnightinbed,lyingawakeandstaringatthepopcornceiling,wonderingifitwasevenworthgettingupinthemorningDidheseehimstandinginthepark,watchinghisdaughterontheswings,goinghigher,higher,higher,andwonderingAmImessingupherlifesomehowHeonlygotherontheweekends.
Andthathadbeenastruggletowin.
LouAnnedidn'twantBettieinhislife,ever.
Brianarguedthateverychildwhohadacapablefatherneededtoknowthem;LouAnnearguedthatBrianwasn'tthattypeoffather.
Sheheldhimtoimpossiblestandardswhilehecouldhardlyscrapebywiththebareminimum.
Buthe'ddobetter.
Hewould.
DidSantaseeallthatWashetheGodHaroldhadtriedtofindforyearsWashetoblameforthecoalinBrian'sstocking,orwasthatBrian'sownfaultWhowastherealonetoblame—thekidsortheparentsHetookasteptowardsRudolphandtheanimalkickedhishindlegs,nearlytakingoffBrian'shead.
"Fuckyou,"hetoldtheanimalwitheyesthatlookedalittletoohuman.
Givingthebastardawidebirth,hewentaroundthesledandfoundtheinfamousbagsittingonthesled'sseat—hugeandredandtiedwithgoldribbon.
Justlikethebookssaid.
43Brianuntiedtheribbonandsparklesexplodedintohisface.
Hecoughed,wipingthemoffhisface,whichonlycausedtheglittertosticktohishands,andthenhisjeanswhenhewipedhispalmsonhisthighs.
"Fuck,fuck,fuck,"hesaid,vindictive,now,withhiscursing.
Hefeltlikehewastrappedinadementedsnowglobe.
Maybeoneheldbyachildabouttoshakeitandwatchmorefakesnowfall.
Hismotherhadcollectedsnowglobesfromdifferentcitiesthey'dlivedthroughouthischildhoodwhilehisfathertriedtofindtheperfectchurch,theperfectpastor,theperfectmessage.
Sheusedtolinethemuponthemantelpieceduringtheholidays.
Brian'sfavoritehadbeenHawaii,aplacethathethoughtwassurelytoowarmtohaveaWhiteChristmas.
Buthelikedthepalmtreescoveredinwhitewithintheminiatureworld.
Hehadn'tlivedthere—hisparentshadvacationedthereontheirhoneymoon.
Afterhegotalltheglitteroutofhiseyelashes,hefinallymanagedtolookintothebag.
…Therewerescams,ofcourse.
Hisdadgotrippedoffhundredsofdollarsbyamanwhothrewwateronthemthatsmelledsourandsaidhewas"blessingtheirhome.
"ThathadbeeninDetroit.
Hethoughtthehealingtouchwouldbejustaroundthecorner,atthenextstate,atthenextchurch.
ThenextcamewhenHaroldwasabouttwomilesawayfromacultbeforehetoldthedriverNo,thankyou,pleasetakemyfamilybacktoourhotel.
IthadtakensomemorepersuadingcommentsfromBrian'smotherandayou'llallrotinhellfromthedriver,whichBrian'sfathertookwithgreatremorse,beforetheymadethetripback.
HaroldhitBrianbackinthehotelroom,afisttothegut,sayingthatitwasallhisfault.
Briandidn'tknowthattheoverall-cladfarmerhadlookedliketroublewhenhe'dtalkedtoBrianatthegasstationwhileBrianstoodinfrontofthegumballmachine.
Brianhadwished44hehadaquarterandthemanhadgivenhimoneandaskedforhisparents.
Thenextthingheknew,Haroldwasgoingonandonabouthowthisgroupcouldbetheirsalvation,beforeheconsideredthatcultishactivitieswouldnothelphimgetbetter.
ThatwasinColorado.
HaroldreallythoughthefoundJesusinMainewhenhefoundalittlechapelbyalighthousewithonlyahandfulofpeopleinthecongregation.
BrianhadfallenasleepwhenthemanhadtalkedaboutRevelationandhowtheworldwasdamned.
HaroldhadslappedhiswifeandshovedBrianintoaclosetbecausehesaidtheyweren'tdoingitright—theyhadn'tbeenbaptized,theywereallgoingtoburn.
Andheonlyhadsomuchtimeleft.
…Thebagneverended.
Itwaslikeafuckingcircusact.
Brianstuckhiswholearmintothething,uptothearmpit,andgraspedatnothing.
Hecouldn'tfindasinglethinginthebag.
Thereindeerwatchedhim,frozeninplace.
Theyknewhewasdoingsomethingwrong,andBriandidn'tcare.
Hethoughtaboutlookinginthebag,fallingdowntherabbithole,endingupsomewhereelse.
Thethoughtmadehimlaugh.
WasthissomesortofgagWashetheScroogeinthestoryabouttobetaughtamorallessonbySantaClaushimselfHefinallygaveupandtiedthebagbackclosed.
Thereindeerscontinuedtopickattheground,stompingtheirhoovesandsnortingwhitepuffsintothenightair.
Briannowonlyhadfifteenminutes.
Sittingonthegrass,hepickedatthefrozenremnantsofthecrop.
Heandhisparentshadlivedonafarmforawhile,whenhewasaboy,withapastorandhisdaughter.
ThedaughterhadbeenLouAnne.
Ashesat,hetwistedthestrandstogether,discardingsomewhentheysnappedfromthefrost,untilhemadealittlestrawcross.
Theendofitslicedhisthumb,andBriantosseditaside.
45Asnowglobe.
He'dboughtBettieasnowglobe.
Maybeshewouldn'tgetthemeaning,butBrianwould.
Hewouldshowherhowtoshakeit,thatifyouhelditjustso,oneeyesquintedalittle,youcouldpretendyouwerethere,onthefakeicerinkwiththehugeChristmastreeinthemiddle.
She'dprobablyjusttakeonelookatitandsavetheslothagainfromfallingoutofthetree.
…Whenhisdadgotevensickerandhismomhadtodrivetheirstationwagon,theytooktripstoDelaware(thepastorwasfoundouttobeachildmolesterwhiletheyattendedthechurch),Wyoming(mostcult-ishactivities),andTexas(GodwouldblessBrian,thepastorpromised.
)TheirfinalchurchwasoneinMissouri.
IthadapastorthatHaroldliked,onethatBriancouldavoid,whilehismompoppedsomebluepillsandsmiledalongateverythinggoingon.
BrianrememberedoncelookingupatJesusonthecrossandwonderinghowhishandsdidn'tjustripapartfromthenails.
HowdidhestayupthereThiswaswhentheylivedinthefarmhouse.
ThiswaswhenhefirstmetLouAnne,theshy,blondpastor'sdaughterwhosmiledathimwithhereyes.
WhenheaskedhisdadwhyJesusneverfelloffthecross,hegotablackeye.
Theyhadtoskipaweekofservices.
Whentheygotback,itwasHolyCommunion.
Theypassedaroundaplateofbreadandlittleplasticcupsofwine.
Realwine.
Briansawhismothertaketwo,andhisfathertookthelargestpieceofbreadontheplate.
MaybehewantedtoeatthemostofJesus'fleshorsomething,stuffhisstomachsohecouldreallyfeelGodandtheholyspiritandallthatreallywithinhim.
46Briantookthebreadafteralookfromhisfatherandwasheditdownwiththewine.
Rightasheswallowed,Harold'sshouldersjerked.
Briandidn'tpaymuchattention—hisfather'sbodyneverobeyedhisdemands,orelse,thatwashisexcusealotofthetimeforstrikinghissonandwife—butthenwhenHarolddoubledover,eyesbulging,Brianrealizedhisfatherwaschoking.
"Andmayallofus,"thepastorsaid,raisinguphisloafofbread.
Brian'sfatherfellintotheaisle,grippinghisneck.
"Beblessedonthisday,"thepastorsaid.
Peoplegotuptohelp,butHaroldhadstoppedmoving.
"AndmayGodalwaysshinedownuponus,"thepastorfinished,breakingthewholeloafofbreadthatonlyhegot.
Harolddiedthatmorning.
Chokedonthebread.
IthappenedsometimeswithParkinson's—peopleshaketoomuchandaren'tabletoswallowtheirfoodproperly.
Briantookanotherpieceofbreadwhennoonewaslooking.
Infact,whentheyloadeduphisdadintothebackofanambulance,Brianateallthebreadontheplate.
…BrianhadfiveminutesleftwhenSantacameback.
Hehadwhatlookedlikeastereotypicalredtoolbox.
"Brian,myboy!
"heexclaimed.
"Sohappytoseeyou'restillhere.
"HerattledtheboxandBrianstoodup.
"Yeah,it'sfantastic.
Now,I'mgoingtobelatepickingupBettie.
Canyougetmyendofthedealdone,nowIwaitedmorethanjustafuckingflash.
""Oh,well,myboy…"Santawalkedovertohisreindeer,andRudolphcertainlydidn'ttrytoattackhim.
"Yousee,I'mrunninglateondeliveriesbecauseofthisunfortunateincident,soIdon'tthinkIcanusethemagictogiveyouwhatyouneed.
"47Typical,typical,typical.
Ofcoursethishappened.
LouAnnealwayspouncedonanyopportunitytocondemnBrianforbeingabadfather.
Hislateness,missingdancerecitalsbecauseofaproject'sdeadline,smellinglikesmoke,havingashittycarthatalwaysbrokedown,thelistwentonforever.
Briandidn'tthinksherememberedHarold.
Sherememberedtheideaofhim.
Whathewantedtobe.
"No,"Briansaid.
"No,no,no.
""I'mawfullysorry,"Santasaid.
"Yousonofabitch!
"Brianwantedsomethingtothrow.
Hehadnothingexceptthestrawcrosssittingathisfeet.
"Youlyingbastard!
"Santaonlytwirledhishand,magicallyfixingthebrokenandcrackedpiecesofthesleighandalsoputtingthereindeerbackinplace.
Thatalsoshedglitter.
"Ifonlyyou'dbeenonthenicelist,son.
Oratleasttriedmore.
"Brianlethisarmsfalltohissides.
"Bettie,"hesaid.
"Bettie.
Mydaughter.
Whatlistissheon"Allthistime,Brianthoughthe'dbeendoomedonthenaughtylistbecauseofHaroldandhisfuckedupchildhood.
HisbeliefwasthatBettiecouldendupbetter,endupbeingsomeoneimportant,influential,keepthefamilylinegoingandnotletitdieinthechurch'saisle.
"She'sonthenicelist,fornow,"Santasaidasheclimbedaboardthesled.
Heletoutajollylaugh,eventhoughitcertainlywasnottherightoccasionforone.
"Butwe'llseeifsheendsuponthesamelistasyou.
""Shehasto,"Briansaid.
Windbeganswirlingaroundthemasthereindeerpreparedtotakeflight.
"Iwantherto.
""Idon'tthinkyou'llhaveanythingtodowithit,"Santasaid,lookingathimwithsteadyeyes.
Hedidn'tlooksojollyanymore.
48"Idon'twanttobelikehim,"Briansaid,hisvoicecracking.
Hehatedhimselfforit.
HehatedHarold,andLouAnne,andSantaClaus,andhehatedhimselfinthatmoment.
"Youalreadyare,"Santasaid.
"Iamnot!
"Brianshouted,steppingcloser.
Hepushedhishairbackfromhiseyes.
"Thatiscompletelyunfair.
Ineverlayahandonmydaughter.
Ispendtimewithher.
Iactuallygiveashit.
""Wouldshesaythat"Santaasked.
"I…"Brianstaredattheground.
Hewasreallycryingnow,thewindlashingthewateroffhischeeks.
"Ineverlayahandonher.
""Butyougoout,onChristmasEveofallnights,totrytogiveyourdaughteragoodChristmas.
Alllastminute,likeshe'sanafterthought.
Youmakeherwatchthatawfulmoviethatshehates.
Youspendtendollarsonherpresent.
DoyoureallythinksheenjoysbeingthereIsn'tjustcountingdownthemomentswhereshecanreturntoLouAnne"Santaasked.
Brianlookedup.
"DoyouknowthatAreyoutellingthetruth"Santawhippedthereinsanditsoundedlikeathunderclap.
"I'malwayswatching,bucko.
Areyou""I'mtrying,"Briansaid,butSantawasalreadygone,hisreindeerlaunchingintotheskyandthesledliftingwithit,likearollercoasterascendingthehillforthebigdrop.
Butthislyingsackofshitwouldonlykeepgoingup,keeponbringinghappiness,keepondoingwhateveryoneexpectedhimtodo.
…OnceSantawasgone,Brianwentbackovertohiscar.
Hepriedthedriver'ssidedooropenandpoppedthetrunk.
Goingaroundtotheback,hepickedupthesmallpaperbagheleftin49thecornerofthetrunk,protectedbyumbrellasandspareblanketshekeptbackthere.
Itwasstillintact,evenaftereverything.
Hetookoutthesnowgloberestinginside.
Hawaii.
HesawBettieinhismind,savingtheslothagainandagainwithasimplepunchofthespacekey.
Shewouldn'thitthesavekeyforhim,likehowhe'dwatchedHaroldchokewithoutmovingtohelp.
Hepickedupthesnowglobe,oneeyesquintedalittle,andlookedatitjustso.
50HUNGRYJosieranoutofdogfoodforherpug.
Shescrapedthecupshehadtakenhomefromarestaurantmanyyearsago,thelogolongagofadedandundistinguishable,andlistenedagainandagainasitscrapedagainstthecloth-plasticmaterialofthebottomofthedogfoodbagofTastyCrispies.
Scrape.
Thenscrapeagain.
Scrapeoncemore,comingupwiththreepiecesofdogfoodshapedlikeminiaturedogbones.
She'dreadthatgivingdogsreal-peoplefoodwouldmakethemfat,makethembeg,andmakethemdie.
Dogfoodofacertainbrand,withmeatasthefirstingredient,ensuredalongerlife.
Oh,no,no.
Thiswouldnotdo.
SherememberedwritingdogfoodonthelistthatsheprovidedhersisterAngelaeveryWednesdaybetween4:00and4:07whenshestoppedbyJosie'shouseonherwayhomefromherjob.
Angelataughtsmallchildrennumbersandlettersandmadethemplayniceandsangtothemduringquiettimeandreadbooksaboutsharingandkindnessandbeingorganized,bookswithmultipleethnicitiesandmultiplesettingsandthetaleswerealwaysshort,butwithsomemoralthekidsprobablywouldn'tgetbutthey'denjoythestoryanywayand—.
Josieneededtogetdogfood.
Theclockoverherovenreadthatitwas8:03intheevening.
Herfive-year-oldpug,Nugget,lookedupatherfromhisspotatherfeet,hisnosesnortingandhiseyesbegging.
Haveyouforgottenaboutmehe'dask.
You'remyoneandonlyfriend.
You'veforgottenallaboutme!
Howcouldyou!
Nuggetblinked,andJosiethoughthemightbeholdingbacktears.
Heonlyhowledwhenheheardsirens.
Whetherthatbethepolicekind,ambulancekind,CityUtilitieskind,emergencyweatherkind,oroncewhenaboydowntheroadfromherhousehadacoupleofairhornsanda51couplemorebeers.
Nuggetwouldopenhislittle,spittle-linedmouthandletoutsomethinglikeaprolongedyelping.
Shethoughthehadthatlookinhiseyesnow.
Josiedroppedthecupbackintothebag.
Thecuphadactuallybeenfromthebar,surely.
Theonesheusedtogotowithherfriends,GeorgiaandWilla.
Once,incollege,they'dstolenchopsticksfromasushiplaceandithadbotheredJosieformonthsbeforeshefinallybroughthersback,layingthembeforethefrontdoorlongbeforetherestaurantopened.
Sheknewtheywouldlikelynotbeusedbythestaffanylonger,butJosiedidnotlikebeingresponsibleforanything.
Itwastoorisky.
ExceptshefeltresponsibleforNugget.
Stupid.
HowhadshenotnoticedMaybeshehadnoticed,buthadbeenverydistractedlastnightwatchingthenightlynewsandchewingherfingernails.
HadshefedthedogandchewedherfingernailssimultaneouslySurelynot.
Sheknewbetter.
Walkingovertothesink,Josiewashedherhandsandlookedoutthewindow.
Her'99JeepWranglersatinthedriveway,idleformonths,likeaglacierintheoceanthatrefusedtomoveormelt.
She'dthoughtabouthavingittowed,butdidn'twanttospendmoneyonatowtruck,andshehadthekeystomoveitherself.
Nuggetbeganhowling.
Josieclaspedherwethandsoverherears.
"I'msorry,I'msorry,I'msorry,"shewailed,fallingontoherknees.
"Angelawassupposedtogetit.
I'msorry,I'msorry.
"Nuggetsatinfrontofherandstoppedhowling,insteadwhimperingandnudgingherarmwithhissnot-coverednose.
Josielookedupathim.
Angelawouldbeouttonight,sinceitwasaFriday,likelywithhercoworkersattheirfavoritebar.
Hercoworkerswereallblondandhadprettynosesandnicemascaraandeachhadanairofpatiencethatwasrequiredforall52elementaryschoolteachers.
ShefeltguiltycallingAngelaoversomethingastrivialasdogfood.
HerfriendsalreadythoughtJosiewasadisastercase,andshecouldonlyimaginewhattheywouldsayifAngelahadtoexcuseherselftogobuyhercrazysisterabagofdogfoodat8:05intheevening.
JosielookedatNuggetnow,whoopenedhismouthandwidenedhiseyesinpre-howl,andsheintervened.
"Alright,I'mgoingtogetyousomedogfood.
Sittight.
"…Ittookherfifteenminutestofindhercarkeys,buriedundernewspapersinthebinshekeptinherlivingroombutnevertookdowntotherecyclingcenter.
Shespunthekeychainaroundherthumb,againandagainandagain.
Finally,shewalkedoutherfrontdoor,wenttothecar,wentbacktomakesureshelockedthefrontdoor,walkedinsidetomakesureshehadn'tlefttheirononthatsheusedtoironouttissuepapershesavedfromherbirthdaylastweek(shegotonepresentfromherneighbor,anicecandlethatsmelledlikecinnamonandspiceandwasinthiscutelittlejarwithatintopandthewickdidn'tburnquicklyandcurllikethecheapcandlesshehadinherhomebutneverlitbecauseshewasafraidshe'dleavethemonandburndownthehouse),wentbackouttothecar,backtothedoortomakesureitwaslocked,rippeddowntheevictionnoticesonherdoor,crumpledtheminherfistandthrewthemintoherfrontyard,andfinallygotintohercar.
Itrumbledtolifelikethedragonfromtheprincess'stowerbeingawakenedtokilltheknight.
Sheturnedthelightson,sincetheyweremanual,andthedarknessofhercrackeddrivewayundergoingaweedrevolutionbrightenedbeforeher,shiningtowardsherneighbor'shouse—theonewhohadgivenherthecandle,leftonherdoorstepsinceJosieneveranswered53thedoor.
ShewatchedenoughDatelinetoknowbetter.
Bettywastheneighbor'sname.
Shehadcardgameswitholdladiesandcalledthecopswhentheair-hornkiddownthestreethadgonewildthatnightwithhishornsandhisbeer.
Well,atleastthat'swhatJosiethoughtshehaddone.
Andthatithadbeenthekiddownthestreet.
Sheneverleftherhousetolearnaboutit,butshegotaNeighborhoodWatchnoteinthemailafewdayslater,recordingtheincident,andithadinformedeveryonethatnoonewasharmed.
Josiewonderedifsomeonecouldbeharmedbyanairhorn.
Maybeifblowndirectlyintoone'sear,itwouldbusttheireardrum.
Afterreadingthenote,Josiecheckedherhouseforairhorns,decidingshemusthavehoardedonesometimeinthetwoyearsshe'dlivedhere,butsheneverfoundone.
Nooneelseintheneighborhoodeverseemedtobehome.
Sometimes,sheimaginedthatshewastheonlyoneinherhouse,theonlyoneformiles,andthewallswereslowlyclosinginlikeherbrother'svideogamesshe'dwatchedhimplaywhilegrowingup.
HelivedinIrelandnowandneversentherpostcardsorletters,notkeepingcontactaftertheirdadhadbeenmurdered.
Prettysoon,she'dbesquishedbetweenthewalls.
Butthenshe'dsitonhercouchandthewallswouldbestillandshewouldwatcharomanticcomedyandeverythingwouldbefineandherneighborswouldbehome,alsowatchingmoviesaloneorwithlovedonesand—.
ShethoughtshesawsomeonestandinginBetty'syard,but,no,thatwasonlyabuddingtreetheyhadplantedsometimerecentlywithoutJosienoticing.
Okay,sheknewhowtodothis.
Shepressedonthebrakeandshiftedintogear.
Herspeedometerbarelyreachedthelowestnotchassheincheddownthedrivewayandoutontothestreet.
WhatwasthatintheroadAdeadcatAdisembodiedarmNo,onlyapieceofabranch.
Abadstormhadblownthroughafewdaysago,andJosiehadlookeduphowlikelyitwasthathurricanescouldreachhercity.
Notlikely.
Breathingoutinrelief.
54Thefurthershedrovedownthestreetandawayfromherhome,shefeltlikeshehadmaybelefttheironon,andherthoughtshadbeensopreoccupiedthatshehadn'tactuallyseentheplugnotinthewall.
SheimaginedNuggetbeingtrappedintheburninghouse,doublyupsetbecauseshehadlefthimhungryandlefthimtoburnalive.
Didn'ttheyeatdogsinsomekindofcountryOrwasthatcatsEitherway,nodomesticanimalshouldbeeaten.
Herfatherhadbeenobsessedwithvealbeforehedied.
Hemadehermothercookvealeverytimehegotapromotion,orafterabusinesstrip,orgotagiftbasketfromhisemployeesonBossAppreciationDay.
WasthatdayactuallyathingSheneverfoundout,buttheycelebrateditatherfather'scompanyuntilheretired.
Shewonderedifthecompanystillcelebrateditinhismemory.
Buteverytimetheyateit,Josiethrewitupinthebathroomafterdinner,sweatbeadedacrossherforeheadandherhairmattedagainsthervomit-linedlips.
Shedidnotlikeanimalcruelty.
Ashadowmovedacrosstheroad.
No,onlytheshadowofatreebranchfromthestreetlightsliningherquietneighborhood(airhornincidentaside).
Thegrocerystorewasonlyablockaway.
Itwouldn'tbeabigdeal.
JosiegotmoneyfromthehatsandscarvesandAfghanssheknittedandsoldonherownwebsite.
Herbasementsatwithseveralboxesfullofcompletedprojects.
Shehadnothingelsetofillhertimewith.
Shehadbeenfeaturedseveraltimesinknittingmagazines,butshealwaysdeclinedtherequestforaninterviewbecauseshedidnotwanttodrivetosomeofficetospeaktosomeoneshe'dnevermet.
Phoneinterviewsgaveherthefirstsignsofapanicattack.
Once,awomanhadshownupatherhousetointerviewher.
Josiehadbakedhercookies,peanutbutterwithminichocolatechips,butbeforethewomancouldgetoutthefirstquestion,Josiehadvomitedalloverthecookietray,thecarpet55ofherlivingroom,theknittingsamplesshebroughtupfromherbasementforpictures,andthewomanwhohadherrecorderoutandhadherhairperfectlycurledaroundherface,andmascarathatmadehereyesdark,butinasultry,mysteriousway,nottheemo-stageway.
Shehadnotbeenfeaturedinthatmagazine.
Infact,ittookseveralmonthsforsomeonetocontactheragain—.
Shehitabumponthemainroadthatthegrocerystorewason,andshegasped,brakingautomatically.
She'dbeensowrappedupinrememberingthemagazinesshehadn'tevenbeenpayingattentiontoherdriving;thatis,shehadn'tbeenpaying100percentattention.
Severalcarshonkedandflewbyasshecametoafullstop,heartbeatingsohardshethoughtherribsmightbruise.
HaditbeenananimalApersonShegotoutofhercar,nearlyhavingherdoorknockedoffbyaspeedingVolvo,whichalsohonkedather.
Searchingthestreetbehindhercar,shelookedforcrushedanimalsorpeoplewrithingontheroad,beggingforlifeastheirbrainsleakedoutontothepavementwiththeirarmsmissing,caughtupinJosie'stirewheels.
Shesawasewagegrate.
Itwasonlythegratethatcausedthebump.
Carswerelinedupbehindher,tryingtogetintotheotherbusylanebesidethem,theirheadlightsblinding.
WhatifwhatevershehitgotthrowndownintothedrainAbodywouldnotfit,butwhatifitwasananimalShefelltoherkneesinfrontofthegrate,drowningoutthehonkingofthelineofcarstoherright,andlookeddownintothegrate.
Shecouldn'tseeanything.
Shelistened,butcouldn'thearanything.
Nothingsuffering.
Theslotsinthegratewerejustbigenoughthatshebegantoreachherarmthrough,butitcaughtonherbicepandcouldgoinnofurther.
Theresiduefromthegratesmearedonherarm,smellingalittlelikeaporta-pottycombinedwiththetimewhen56Nuggetateabirdandthenhackedupitsbodypartsontoherkitchenfloor,oneeyeballstillintact.
SheretractedherarmandstuckitthroughthelargerholethatranoffthecurbandrememberedwhenAngelamadeherwatchItwhentheywerekidsandhowshenever,everwalkedbygrateseveragain.
Shewouldcrossthestreetorwalkinthegrassabove.
Themoviehadmadehercry,andhermotherhadshushedherandsaidthatbeingafraidofsomethingfictitiousmeantshewouldneverbereadytofacethefearsoftherealworld.
Herarmfitmuchbetterinthishole,ifshebentattheelbowandhershoulderkissedthecurb.
Shefeltsomethingwet—justleaves.
Moreresiduecoveredherarm,andnowhershirtandthekneesofherjeans.
Shedugaround,andfoundnodyinganimal.
Satisfied,sheclimbedtoherfeetandthrewupontothestreetwhenthecarrightinfrontofherhonkedsoloudshethoughtitrivaledanairhorntotheear.
Shewipedhermouthwiththebackofhernon-sewer-coveredhandandthengotbackintohercar.
Thenastinessofthewholeordealwasworthit.
Shehadn'tkilledanything.
Theparkinglottothegrocerystoredidnotcontainmanycars.
Evenso,Josieparkedfarawayfromallofthem,notwantingtotaketheriskofrunningdownsomeonewiththeirshoppingcartsheadingtotheirSedans.
Thesmellfromherarmandshirtwaftedintohernose,andshetookindeepbreathsthroughhermouth.
Dogfood.
Sheneededdogfood.
Nuggetneededher.
…Once,yearsago,AngelamanagedtoconvinceJosietocomealongwithherandhercoworkerstotheirweeklybarvisit.
Angeladrove,ofcourse.
57Oncetheyarrived,herfriendshadlookedatherlikesomestrange,cagedanimalnewlyreleased.
She'dtriedtocurlherstraw-texturedhair,butitendedupcrimpinginseveralspotswithnocurls.
She'dstabbedhereyewiththemascarawandandcriedinthebathroom,jumpingupanddownonhertoesasthepainmadeherthinkhereyesightwouldbelostbythetimeitreceded.
Attheendofitall,haircrimpednotinthecool,early2000'sway,butthefailedattemptatcurlinghairway,andhermascarasmudgedalittlealonghereyelids,shehadwenttothebar,hadonedrinkcalledStrawberryDreamer,laughedwheneveryoneelsedidandnoddedalongthoughtfullywheneveryoneelsedidthat,too.
Allthewomentalkedabouttheirstudents,littlesnot-nosedmonstersthattheycomplainedaboutovertheirmartinisandginandtonics.
AngelasatbesideJosietheentiretime,laughingwhenthecuecame,interjectingwithafunnyanecdotewhenitseemedappropriate.
Forher,itwasallnatural.
Josiehadfiddledwiththedrinkmenubecauseherhandshadbecomeboredclaspedtogetherinherlap.
Shecouldn'tcommentonthementionedstudentsshedidn'tknowandhadneverseen,andnoticedthedrinksheordereddidn'tactuallyincludeanyalcohol,justalotofsparklingjuiceandsugarandcream.
Whenshehadn'tbeenlooking,allthewomenhadprobablylaughedather.
OrmaybetheythoughtshewassomeAArecoverycase,andpitiedher.
Ormaybethey'dthoughtshe'dbeenabuzzkill,notwillingtoletloose.
Politelyexcusingherself,Josiehadgoneintothebathroomandthrownupinthetoiletinthehandicappedstall,oneeyeonthedoor.
WhatifsomeonehandicappedcameinandhadtowaitSheimaginedawomaninawheelchair,dyingfromcancerwithonelastwishtogotoabarandhaveadrink,waitingoutsidethedoorwithheroxygentank,abouttopeeherpantsbutpolitelywaitingforJosietofinishblowingchunks.
58Angelatookherhomeafterthebathroomincident,shootingglancesatheratspacedintervals.
ThelookremindedJosieofhowAngelalookedattheirmotherthelasttimetheyhadseenher.
Worry.
AsifJosiewasastepawayfrombecomingunhinged.
Thatmusthavebeenwhereshegotthecupforthedogfood.
Angelahadorderedacupofwaterbeforetheyleftthebar,andthebartenderhadgivenheracomplimentarycompanycup,bigwithplasticridges.
Thelidandstrawhadbeenthrownaway,butthecuphadbeenhandyforherovertheyearsasadog-foodscoop.
HowcouldAngelaforgetthedogfoodSounlikeher.
…Shegotthebiggestbagshecouldfind.
Whensheliftedit,herkneescomplainedloudly.
Sheneededtoexercise.
BackwhenGeorgiaandWillawerestillherfriendsandbeforethephonecallsandrandomvisitsstopped,theyusedtoallgotogroupyogatogether.
Hotyoga.
Josiehatedit,thesweating,theeyesonherthatwereorweren'treallyonherfromtheotherparticipants.
Whenshedidthree-leggeddog,she'dletoutagroanthatborderedonsexual,andthethreeofthemhadlaughedaboutitforweeks.
BackwhenJosiewasnotsoeasilyembarrassed.
Backbeforehermotherkilledherfatherwithabutcher'scleaverrightashewasraisinghisveal-filledforktohismouth.
She'dalsowatchedSweeneyTodd(Hollywoodmovieversion)withhersisteryearsagoduringHalloween,beforeithappened.
Josiehadafantasyinherheadthathermotherhadlobbedoffherfather'sheadwiththecleaverandthencrammedhisbodyintotheovenwhilesingingsomethingdramaticinaminorkey.
Thedogfoodbagfeltalittlelikehaulingabodybag,andJosiewaddleduptotheregisters.
Theboybehindtheregisterlookedyoungandinhighschoolwithdimplesand59probablyanapplicationtoHarvardinthemail.
Hesmiledassheapproached.
"Letmehelpyou,"hesaid.
Shegrunted,tooweigheddowntospeakashehurriedaroundthecounter.
Asheneared,hisnosescrunchedupwhenhecaughthersmell.
Shecouldseehimtryingtoconcealitandbepoliteashetookthedogfoodfromher.
Someofthegrimefromherarmtransferredontothebagandthensmearedontohisstoreapron.
Josiedidnotinformhimaboutit.
Herangupthedogfood.
$40.
96.
Shegapedatthepriceandthendugaroundinherpurse.
Thatwasatleastthreesoldknittedcaps.
Shegotouttwotwentiesandcountedoutexactchange.
"Doyouneedhelptakingthistoyourcar"thecashierboyasked,lookinglikeallhewantedhertosaywasNo,thankyou.
"CanIhaveacart"sheasked.
"Yes,"hebreathedandranofftogetone.
ThewomaninlinebehindJosiesighedinimpatience.
Josiefeltherstomachchurn.
Finally,cashierboyreturnedwithacartandhauledthedogfoodbagintoit.
"Allset,"hesaid.
"Haveagoodnight.
"Josiewasafraidshe'dthrowupifsheopenedhermouth,sosheonlynoddedanddidsomethingthatresembledasmileandthenturnedandwalkedthecartoutofthestore.
…Shehadanotherincidentonherwayhome,onlythistimeitinvolvedalargebumpwhenshewentthroughthegrocerystore'sparkinglot.
Josiestartedscreaming,along,never-endingscreamassheshovedthegearshiftintoparkandstumbledoutofthecar,lookingbehindhervehicletofindtheraisedcarcassofaspeedbump.
Itwasthedarkkind,blendinginwiththe60pavementandnotpaintedyellow.
Onlythenherscreamstopped.
Sheheardthebuzzofthelit-upsignforthegrocerystorehangingsomewherebehindher.
Ayoungercoupleranuptoher.
"Areyoualright,miss"themanasked.
Hewashandsome,butnottoohandsome.
Thewomanhewaswithcouldhavedonebetter.
JustlikeJosie'smothercouldhavedonebetterwhenchoosingherfather.
Shehadbeenpetiteandbrunette,withdelicatefeatureslikeacarveddollthecreatorspentextratimeon.
Shehadskitteredaroundallthetimeinanapronlikeitwasthe1950'sinsteadofthe1990's.
SheallowedJosie'sfathertothrowvealatherifitwasn'tcookedtohisliking.
Herfatherhadbeenabaldingmanwithabellyfrombeerandabeardfromlaziness.
Hisvoiceboomedliketheannounceratfootballgames.
Sometimes,JosiestillthoughtabouthowhisvoicereallydidseemtoechoMY-my-FAVORITE-favorite-MEAL-meal-IS-is-RUINED-ruined.
Followedbyacrashofadinnerplateandthesoundoftheoverspillofwinedrippingontotheirhardwoodfloorinthediningroomandhermother'srushedapologiesasmarinated,tendervealsliddownherapronandherneckandchunksofthemeatstucktothehairsprayinherhair.
"I'mfine,"Josierepliedtothesemi-handsomeman,determinednottothrowupasherstomachrolledandrolledandrolled.
"Youwerescreaming,"thewomannotedasifthesoundwerestillnotringinginJosie'searsandherthroatfeltlikeshe'dswalloweddryleaves.
Thewomansteppedupbesidehermateandslidherarmthroughhis,asifafraid.
Josiewasstillthecagedanimal,afterall,letlooseoncemore.
"I'mfine;sorrytofrightenyou.
"JosiescrewedherlipsupintosomekindofsmilingsneerandthenclimbedbackintoherJeep.
61She'ddebateddrivingintooncomingtrafficonthewayhometofinallyendallofthescreaminginherhead,butshecouldn'tleaveNuggetwithouthisdinner.
…Nuggetatehisfoodhappilyassoonasshegavehimafreshbowlofit.
Whenshecheckedtheingredientstomakesureitwasthebestshecouldbuy,shesawthatthefirstingredientwasveal.
Shestaredattheingredientforsolonghereyesblurred.
AftermakingsureNuggetwascontent,shetookashower,washingthesewergrimeoffofher.
Itstucktoherlikethetemporarytattoosshehadasakid,andshescrubbedwithherwashclothuntilherskinturnedabrightpink.
Steppingoutoftheshowerandputtingonherbathrobe,shefoundherhousephone.
She'dlosthercellphonemonthsago,ormaybeshe'dthrownitagainstthewallandbrokenitintoamillionunfixablepieces,herownHumptyDumpty,afewyearsagoafterthepolicehadcalledandgivenherthenewsthatherfatherwasdeadandtheycouldn'teverputherfamilybacktogetheragain.
Thedayafterthephonecall,she'dadoptedNuggetatthelocalshelterwheresomeonehaddumpedhim.
DialingAngela'snumber,shesatonthebedinthedarkofherbedroom,listeningtotheringing.
"Hello—,""Hey,Angela.
""—you'vereachedAngela.
SorryImissedyourcall.
LeaveyournameandnumberandI'llgetbacktoyouassoonaspossible.
Haveamarvelousday!
"Abeepfollowed.
62Josieopenedhermouth,thewordsstuckinherthroatwiththedriedleaves,andhungupthephone.
Whilelookingathercalllog,shesawallthetimesshehadtriedtocallhersisterandAngelahadnotpickedup.
Whenwasthelasttimetheyspoke…Goingintothekitchen,shewantedsomethingfordinner.
Openingherpantry,shefoundemptyshelves.
Onlyoneexpiredcanoftunathatsmelledlikedeathitselfwhensheopenedit.
Shedidn'teatmeat,anyway,whichiswhyshe'dneveropenedthecanbefore.
Herfridgewasemptyotherthanstrawberrysyrup,Dijonmustard,andanoldlime.
Shehadn'teatenallday,sherealized.
HowhaditbeenafulldaySheplacedahandtoherstomach.
Shehadsomecrackersandcheese—no,sheatethatupyesterday.
Shehadsomecereal—nope,hadthatfordinnertheothernight.
Orwasit…HowhadshenotnoticedthefoodbeinggoneShepulledatherhairagainsohardhervisionblurredwithtears.
Shethoughtifsherippedthehairfromtheroots,maybeitwouldmakeherfeelbetter.
SheneverhadahugequantityoffoodsinceshestayedbyherselfandshekeptthegrocerylistforAngelasmall,buttohavenofoodatallShethoughtforamoment,staringatthegapingmouthofheropenpantry.
WhenwasthelasttimeAngelahadstoppedbyHersistersentherabirthdaycardtoherfromanewaddressallthewayacrossthecity.
ItsatonJosie'sbedsidetable,tuckedbackintotheenvelope,stackedontopoflatebillnoticesandmoreevictionwarnings.
Lookingaroundforlostfoodoncountertops,comfortingherselfinthefactthatsheownednoknives,nocleavers,notevendinnerones,Josiespottedapileofgrocerylistsontopofthemicrowavesheusedonoccasionandalwaysthoughtwouldcatchfire.
Ithadseveralweeks'worthoflists,allfilledoutinJosie'snice,loopyhandwriting.
63ThinkingofgoingoutagainmadeJosiethrowupinherkitchensink,emptyofdishes.
Shewashedhermouthoutwithwaterandrealizedwhenshewipedhermouthwithapapertowelthatitwaswet,notjustfrombileandsinkwaterbutfromtears.
Shehadn'trealizedshe'dbeencrying.
Nuggetfinishedhismealandtwirledaroundherlegs,waitingforapatandforhertocongratulatehimonhiseatingaccomplishments.
Herfatherneverdidsuchathing.
Whenhewassatisfiedwithameal,hewouldsimplyremainsilent.
Shecouldnotleavethehouse,notagain.
Shedidn'ttrustpeoplewhodeliveredfood.
Therewerepeoplewhokilledtheirdeliverycustomers—oneoftheDatelineepisodes.
Herneighborswerenothome.
Thewallsbegantomovetowardsher,rattlingthedishwareinhercabinets.
Shovingherhandsbackintoherhair,Josie,again,pulledonithardenoughthatthepainmadethewallsstopmoving.
Thathadbeenclose.
She'dbeensureshe'dbesquishedthattimeandhavenoheartsleft.
Shegotabowloutofhercabinetandscoopedoutacupofdogfood.
SheputthestrawberrysyrupandDijonmustardontopofthefood,gotaspoon,andsatonthefloorofherkitchen,legsstretchedoutfrontofher.
Nugget,watchingherandlickinghispaw,finallycameoverandlayonherlap,cockinghisheadatherasifsaying,You'vereallyhitthebottomthistime,huhNowIreallyamyouronlyfriend.
Josiebroughtthedogfood/syrup/mustardspoonfultohermouth.
Andate.
Andate.
Andate.
6499Everyoneknewaboutourneighborhood.
Notbecauseofgangsorviolenceorasahotspotformethlabs,butbecauseofMs.
Sandy.
Notnational-levelfame,ofcourse.
Ourneighborhoodstorydidnotinterrupttheregularscheduledprogrammingofpoliticianshavingpissingcontestsorofanothermassshootingwithnorealconsequencesorsolutions.
Small-townstorieswereonlytouchingwhenitinvolvedaninspiringteacherthatworkedatthesoupkitchenseverydayafterclassorproducedaviralonlinevideoofacat.
No,thehouseofMs.
Sandydidnotreachbeyondtristateareanewspapers.
Thelatestheadingfromabigcityinthenextstateoverread:"Policeinvestigateaquirkywaxmuseumbecauseoflifelikefiguresthatlooktoorealtobefake.
"Amorerealistic,butwhatIwouldlearntobemisleading,headlineread:"Womansuffersthroughmidlifecrisiswithwax.
"Johnny,mynext-doorneighbor,thoughttheentirethingwasridiculous.
"Awasteofpeople'sattention,"hesaidaswesmokedinourconjoiningdrivewayandwatchedthecarspassbyourhouses.
Touristsneverknewquitewherethehousewas,andatanyhourofthedaycarscruisedacrossthecrackedroads,lookingathousenumbers.
"Shemustbemakingashit-tonofmoneywithallthosedonations,"Isaid,blowingsmokeoutinfrontofmeandwatchingitdissipateinthecool,springair.
"IheardhernextfigureisLadyGaga,"Johnnysaid.
"She'sprobablyaboutoutofroom,now,don't'chathinkImean,doyouthinkshekeepsallofthemlockedupinherhousewhenshe'sdonewiththeweek"65"Probably.
"Neitherofushadwalkeddowntheretoseeit.
Inpartbecauseofthetrafficandinpartbecauseneitheroneofuseverfeltespeciallysightseer-y.
Idroppedmycigaretteandcrusheditintothegravelasanothercarpassed,bothdriverandpassengerleaningtowardsthewindshield,squinting,theiroldVolvo'senginebeltwhiningandmakingSherylRonald'sdachshundacrossthestreettohowl.
…Herhousesatontheedgeofmystreetwherethepavementwrappedaroundinacul-de-sac.
Itallstartedaboutsixmonthsago.
Duringthefirstfewdays,shepaintedtheexteriorofherhousefromapastelbabybluetoayellow-and-orangemonster,likesomesortofwarningsign.
Ithinkitdidtheimpendingsituationjustice.
Onceshewasfinishedwithpainting,shecoveredherfrontyardwithalargetarp.
Thenthecoolingfanswithweather-proofextensioncordswereinstalledunderthetarp.
Finally,aftermuchintriguefromtheneighborhood,thefiguresbegantoappear.
ItstartedwithawaxreplicaofCher.
Thebangsandtheyouthfulfacesuggestedanold—ormaybenew—model.
Thesingerstoodrightbesidethefrontdoor,smilingoutontotheyardandscaringBertJenkinshalftodeathonhismorningwalktohelpwiththearthritisinhisknees.
Thenextfigureplacedbythetarp-coveredmailboxandposedasifwavingtoaninvisibleaudienceheldtheformofWhitneyHouston.
Followedbyahippie-inspired,youngStevieNicksplaced,respectively,byaflowerbedovergrownwithweedsthatwerechokingthepreviously-housedviolets.
Bythistime,thecitycaughtontothisstrangephenomenon.
Astoryshoweduponthelocalnews.
Theyusedtherookiebroadcaster,akidwholookedlikehehadjustfinishedhis66seniorchemistryclassbeforerunningovertothenewsstation.
HeknockedonthedoortospeakwithMs.
Sandy,butnooneanswered.
Tragedystruck.
Onenight,agroupofkidsfromtheonlyhighschoolintownrampagedMs.
Sandy'sfrontlawn,drawingapenisonCher'sforehead.
StevieNickshadanarmamputated.
AndWhitneyHoustonsomehowmanagedtoendupontheroof,standingatopthechimneylikesheawaitedSanta'sarrival.
Nooneknewwhathappenedtothefamouswomen,because,bythenextmorning,thefiguresdisappeared.
Aweekpassedandpeoplebegantodismissthewholethingassomekindoffluke.
Johnnysaidshewasprobablyhittingsomesortofmidlifecrisis,asthenewspaperarticlesuggested.
ButMs.
Sandywasnotdonecreatingherwaxfigures.
OnaSaturdaymorning,PatriciaReynolds'sboyfriendhadbeenmowingthelawnwhenhenoticedanewfigureposingfortheworld.
Thistime,Ms.
Sandyhadleftanakedfigurestandinginthemiddleofthelawn.
Awoman,presumably,fromthebreastsandlackofapenis.
Herfacewasallsmoothwax,lackinganyfeatures.
Policewerecalled.
Rumorsranwild.
WasthissomesortofprotestagainstthehighschoolkidsClearly,Ms.
Sandy—whoattendedchurchregularlyandcollectedboxtopsfortheelementaryschoolkids—feltpubliclyunhappy.
Thepolicetookawaythevulgarfigure.
Thecitywaitedforsomeothertypeofrebuke.
Afewmorningslater,shehadanentirelawnsetupwithadarktheme.
Selena,MarvinGaye,JohnLennon,andKurtCobainsataroundapatiosetwithplasticchairsandafloralcenterpieceatopaplastictable.
Therewerealsodrinkswithlittleumbrellasintheirwaxhands.
67Followingthemesincludedsingerswhowerelefthanded:DickVanDyke,PaulMcCartney,DavidBowie(or,atleastthat'swhatJoyceFowler'sdaughterthought),andseveralweeksfullofsingersfromdifferentdecades(shegotFreddieMercury'syellowjacketdowntonearperfection,orsoIheard).
Nooneknewwherethefigurescamefrom.
WasshestealingthemPolicefoundnoevidencetosupportthistheory.
WasshemakingthemPossible,butunlikely,consideringhowoftentheychanged.
Nonewsteamgotaninterviewwithher.
Theonlypeoplewhosawherputthefiguresupwerethosewillingtowaitandwatchinthedeadofnight.
Themorefamousthefiguresbecame,themorecommonitwasfor"fans"tositoutonthecurballnighttobethefirsttoseethenewtheme.
Ms.
Sandyneversaidanythingconcretewhenshesetthemup.
Shetookthemoutonebyoneandonlysaid"move"or"getoffmydamnproperty"whensightseerswouldapproachherwithquestions.
Once,shehadreportedlythrownMichaelJackson'slegatapersistentbystander,butnoonefromtheneighborhoodcouldconfirmthestory.
…Whenthecool,lightspringairtookuppermanentresidencebeforethedead,heavyheatofsummercametosuffocatethetown,mybrotherWilsoncametovisit.
Hebroughthistwochildren,JennyandJake.
Theyranrampantthroughmyhouse,knockingmagazinesoffend-tablesandmanagingatonepointtoknockdowneverysingleplasticwarecontainerIownedoutofthecabinet.
"Howhaveyoubeen"Iasked.
Ireallywantedasmoke,butIknewWilsonwouldgetpissyifIgotoutacigarette.
Hewouldclaimitwasbecauseofthekids,butwebothknewhewouldbesalivatingfromquittingonlyafewmonthsago.
68"Fine,"hesaidashereadthepaper.
ThefrontpageannouncedMs.
Sandy'snewestcreations.
Theme:Jazz.
EllaFitzgerald,LouisArmstrong,andBillieHolidayallstoodshoulder-to-shoulder,likeamulti-decadeconcert.
Thekidshadalreadyaskedaroundseventy-threetimesiftheycouldwalkdownthestreetandseethespectacleforthemselves.
Thelineofcarsalreadyreachedbeyondmyhouseandtowardstheturnoff,andWilsonrepliedmaybelater.
ItwiddledmythumbsandwatchedTV.
AfterDaddied,WilsonhadfeltsomesortofobligationtocomeseemeaboutonceeverytwoweekstoreplaceDad'sandmybiweeklyfishingtrips.
ThevisitsconsistedofWilsonreadingthepaper,hischildrendestroyingmyhouse,andmewatchingTV,usuallytheeveningnewsaboutmoreshootingsandmorepoliticalnonsense.
MybrotherandIneverhadmuchtotalkabout.
Beingnewlyretiredwasboring,andbeingafatheroftwowashorrific.
Wilsonruffledthepaperandclearedhisthroat.
"What'sfordinner"hefinallyasked.
"Ihavefrozenpotpies,"Isaid.
"Fine,"hesaid.
"Wilson,"Isaid,stillstaringattheTV.
"Ihavecancer.
"Heputdownthenewspaper.
…WhenmydoctorsuggestedIgotoacancersupportgroup,Isaid,andIquote,"Hell,no.
"Why'dIwanttobeinaroomfullofsickpeoplewhoweredyinganddepressed—didn'texactlyseemlikeitwouldliftmyspiritsorperformanymiraclesformyhealth.
"Bullshit,"Johnnyagreedaswesmokedoneevening.
Thefireflieskeptuscompany,makingtheneighborhoodfeelwarmdespitethechillintheairfromwinter.
69"Hethinksit'llbegoodforme.
""Shit,"Johnnysaid,blowingoutsmokeinadeftbreath.
"Lungsandboobs,huh""Ithinkit'spoliticallycorrecttosaybreasts,"Ireplied.
Johnnyeyedme.
Thegraywasslowlystartingtocreepintohishairandbeard.
Heonlyworetie-dyeshirtsandarmyshorts,nomatterwhattheweather.
HeneverworeshoeswhenIsawhim,evenongravel.
Thebottomsofhisfeetmustbelikehardleatherbynow.
"Iwouldthinkyourdoctor'sfirstpieceofadvicewouldbetoquitsmoking.
""Ididn'tsaythatthesupportgroupwashisfirstlineofadvice,"Isaid,watchingthecigaretteinmyhand.
"Areyougonnadie"heasked.
Ishrugged.
"Mymahadcancer,"hesaid.
"Killedherwithinaweekofdiagnosis.
""That'ssoreassuring,thanks,"Isaid.
Istampedoutmycigarette.
Johnnywatchedmeagainoutofthecornerofhiseye.
Onceuponatime,IthoughtI'dbeeninlovewithhim.
Now,Ifeltlikehewasn'tworththeeffortofgettingintothingswith.
Notbecauseofthecancerthing,butbecauseofthefactthatIdidn'tdorelationships.
"Youcouldtryit,"hesaid.
"Thegroup,Imean.
MaybeyoucouldholdhandswitheveryoneandsingKumbaya.
"Ishothimthebirdandheadedbackintomyhouse.
…Thesupportgroupbuildingreallylookedlikeaplacewherepeoplecametodie.
Thebuilding'swhitepaintwaschipping,revealingrottingwoodunderneath.
Asigninthewindowhad,atonetime,read"WhereHeartsareMended,"buttheMhadfaded.
70Isatinmytruckforagoodfifteenminutes,staringatthebuilding.
Iwatchedseveralpeoplewalkinginside.
Twohadwalkedintogetherandhadlaughedoversomeprivatejoke.
Becauseofmydelay,Iwastenminuteslate.
ThatalsomeanteveryoneturnedasoneandstaredatmewhenIenteredtheroom.
ResistingtheurgetoshieldmyeyeslikeIdowhenlookingdirectlyintothesun,Ifoundanemptyseatintheroomandstaredatmylap.
Thankfully,thegroupleaderdidnotconfrontme.
WhenIfinallylookedup,Inoticedher.
DirectlyacrossfrommesatMs.
Sandy.
Shehadaknittedscarfwrappedaroundherneckandherstraw-blondhairstoodoutfromherface.
IttookmeuntilthatmomenttorealizeIneverreallyknewwhatshelookedlike,atleastnotfromthisproximity.
ButIknewfromherbroadshouldersandpalefacethatitwasher.
Shedidn'tlookatmeandinsteadhadherattentionfocusedontheleader.
Ididn'tsayanythingduringthemeeting.
Everyonesharedstoriesandsimple,clichéwordsofencouragement.
TheonlythingItookoutoftheordealwasthatcancersucks.
Butthatcouldhavebeenbecausethegroupleaderworeashirtthatproclaimedthis.
Afterwards,wecoulddrinkwaterandeatmini-muffins.
IapproachedMs.
Sandyfromwhereshestoodatthewaterjug.
Sheheldacupinherhand,butitremainedunfilled.
Shealsohadnotspokenduringthemeeting.
"Ms.
Sandy"Isaidwithhesitation,myvoicesoundingasifIwereachildconfrontingtheirscornfulteacher.
Shelookedupatme,hereyesdark.
Theywerebrownlikemine.
"Hm""Um.
"Ipickedupasmallpapercup,bigenoughforabouttwosipsofwater.
"Ilivedownthestreetfromyou.
Doyourecognizeme"71ShestaredatmeforsolongthatIalmostputdownthecupandwalkedout.
Butthenshenodded.
"Youhavethebrickmailboxlikemine.
""Oh,uh,yeah,"Isaid,notknowingatallthatshehadsuchamailbox.
DidIhaveabrickmailboxOh,yeah,IguessIdid.
"That'sme.
"Sheraisedhercheeksinanattemptofasmile.
"Goodtoseeyou.
""Yeah,you,too,"Isaid.
ThenIlaughedinastrangledway.
"You'rebasicallyacelebrity,soIguessyouhaverandompeoplecomeuptoyouallthetime,huh"Anotherlongstare.
"Isuppose,"shesaid.
"YourLouisArmstronglookedreallyauthenticinthepaper.
""Thankyou,"shesaidandthenfilledupherwatercup.
Thebubblesgluggedtothetopofthecontainer,andwebothwatchedastheypoppedonebyone.
"CanIaskyouaquestion"Iasked.
Apause.
"Myfatherownedamuseum,"shesaid.
AmoreauthenticsmilepulledupherlipswhenIfoundmymouthhanginghalfwayopen.
"Everyonewantstoknow.
Thenewspeopleyellthequestionatmyfrontdoor.
Heleftthefigurestomewhenhediedawhileback,afterclosingdownhismuseum.
"Adisappointmentfilledme.
IrealizedIlikedthemysteryofthefiguresappearinglikemagic.
NowIsawthetrapdoorunderneaththeillusion,thewiresonthelevitatingobject.
"Mydaddiedafewyearsago,"Isaid.
"Didn'tleavemeanythingbutsomeoldfishingrods.
""Hm,"shereplied,watchingthewateragain.
Ididn'tknowwhichoneofusinheritedthebettergift.
Tome,theybothkindofsucked.
72"Um,"Isaid.
Ourfatherlessconnectionspurredmetocontinuetheconversation.
Iclearedmythroat.
"Ihavebreastandlungcancer.
""Oh,"shesaid,notunsympathetically,butasIwouldhaveexpectedacancerpersonwouldsayit.
Withsomedetachment,butsomesenseofcomradery.
"Whatareyouherefor"Iasked.
Ididnotknowifthiswasaninappropriatequestiontoask.
Ihadn'thadcancerbeforeanddidn'tknowtheproperetiquetteyet.
MaybetherewerebooksIcouldbuy.
Theteamleaderofthesupportgrouphighlypraisedinformationalcancerbooks.
IfJohnnyhadbeenhere,he'dprobablybelaughinghisassoffatmyattemptsatsocialinteraction.
"Throat,"shesaidandsoftlytapedtheareaofherscarfthatcoveredtheaffectedarea.
"Oh,"Isaidinasimilarmannertohowshesaidit.
Iaddedalittlenod.
SheblockedthespoutofthewaterjugsoIcontinuedtoholdmycup.
"Yes,"shesaid.
"I'msorry,"Isaid,notsureexactlywhatallIwassorryfor.
"AsamI,"shereplied.
Iendeduptakingmycupallthewayhomewithme,onlytothrowitinthebackdumpster.
Johnnystoodonthedrivewaynearby,watching.
Hedidn'taskhowitwent.
Ididn'ttellhim.
AndIdidn'thaveasmoke.
…Thefollowingweek,Iattendedthegroupagain.
Ms.
Sandysatbesidemeandcrossedherlegs.
Ilookedoveratherandshesmiledatme.
Whiletheleaderspokeabouthowwemustholdontohopesheslippedmeacouponfor10%offfishingrods.
Thenextmeeting,IslippedheranoteforanewmuseumopeningallthewayinAlaska,celebratingwaxfigures.
Wecouldgiveeachotherslysmiles.
73"Fatherscanbesuchshit,"shetoldmeafterameetingonenight.
Inodded,wishingIhadapacktosmoke.
"Youlivealone,yes"sheaskedme.
Inoddedagain.
Shehummed,lookingatthestreetofftheparkinglot,headlightswashingoverus.
Herfacelookedgauntintheshadows.
"Lifecanbeshit,too.
Alone.
""Yes,"Iagreed.
Ithoughtofmybrother,onlycomingbytovisitbecauseheknewIwouldbegonesoon.
HowtheonlypersonIreallyhadwasJohnny,andhewasnowherenearreliable,eitherasafriendorsomethingelse.
…Ihearditwhileinlineatagrocerystore.
Pete,thebagboy,wastalkingtotheoldwomaninfrontofme,SuzanneCalder.
"SawitonTVlastnightduringthisspecial,"hewassayingasIfoundmyspotinline.
"Couldn'thavehardlybelievedit,yaknowTohearhernamelikethatandnotevenaboutherfreakywaxfigures.
""I'dheardaboutherfamebefore,amonggossipersandsuch,"SuzanneCaldersaid.
Hehandedherthegrocerybags,butshestilllingeredtotalk.
ItoldtheclerkwomantogetmeaboxofMarlboros.
Wilsonandthekidswaitedoutsideinhisminivan.
He'dbeencomingtovisitonceaweeknowandwantedtodothingsforme,likedrivemetothegrocerystoreeventhoughIownedatruckandcouldgobymyself.
Hedidn'tknowhowtohandlethecancerthinganymorethanIdid.
"Makessense,"SuzanneCaldersaid.
"Withallthesingingfigures.
""Yeah,"Petesaid,hisfacelightingupatthesuddenconnection.
IfIsquintedrealhard,Icouldalmostseethelightbulbappearabovehishead.
74Theclerkreturnedwithmyboxofcigarettesandrangupmyitems:atoiletbrush,acontainerofdoughtomakecinnamonrolls,andabottleoflaundrydetergent.
ShepushedtheitemsdowntoPete,whobaggedthemwithoutlookingattheitemsoratme.
Finally,hehandedmethebag.
"Whatareyouguystalkingabout"Iasked.
Havingcancermademebolder,Ilearned.
"Ms.
Sandy,"SuzanneCaldersaid.
"SheusedtosingonBroadwaybackinherday.
"Istaredather,hard.
"You'resure"Iasked.
"Oh,yes,"shesaid.
"Mygirlfriend,PattyAaron,hasbeeninsideherhouse.
Broadwayposterseverywherewithhernameonthem.
Evenanawardortwoonhermantelpiece.
""Oh,"Isaid.
SuzanneCaldersmiledatmeevenasthecornersofhereyescurveddownwards,likesheweremelting.
"Iheardaboutyourcancer.
"Shewhisperedthelastword.
"I'msosorrytohearit.
"Apparently,Johnnysharedhiscigsandwordswithpeopleotherthanme.
Blabbermouthedasshole.
"It'sfine,"Isaid,eventhoughithonestlywasnot.
"Butthanks,"Iadded,eventhoughIdidnotfeelgrateful.
…Athomethatnight,Iwarmedupmycomputer.
ItgrumbledandgroanedandremindedmeexactlyhowlongithadbeensincethelasttimeIhadusedit,butiteventuallycametolife.
IrealizedIdidn'tknowMs.
Sandy'sfirstname.
OrwasherfirstnameSandyIwalkedacrossmygraveldrivewayandpoundedonJohnny'sdoor.
Heanswered,alongpieceofwoodinhishand.
75"Isthattobeatintrudersovertheheadwith"Iasked,lookingatit.
"I'mbuildingadesk,"hereplied.
"ButIcouldimprovise,ifyoulike.
""Youbuildfurniture"Iasked,takenabacksinceIalwaysenvisionedhimapermanentslacker.
ThenIrememberedmypurposehere.
"Listen,what'sMs.
Sandy'sfullname"Iasked.
Heusedthewoodtoscratchhistemple.
"Ithinkit'sSandyWringers.
""Thanks,"Isaid.
"Gobacktoyour,um,carpentry.
"Iraisedaneyebrowathimandthenreturnedhome.
Iaddedhernameinthesearchengineandwaitedfartoolongandlistenedtofartoomanyclicksandwhirlsfrommycomputerbeforetheresultsfinallyappeared.
Iquicklyskimmedanarticlewrittenabouther.
Apparently,shehadwonaTonyin1989forsupportingactressinamusical.
Withoutreallymeaningto,Ireadaboutherforhours.
Thesourceswerenotallthatbountiful,butIlearnedabouthowsherosetofamewhenshewasonlyeighteenandshegotcastinherfirstplay.
IwatchedafewgrainyvideosofayoungMs.
Sandyonstage,posedwithconfidence.
Hervoiceconvincedmeshedeservedthoserumoredawards.
Ididn'twatchtoomanyofthevideos.
IfeltlikeIwasintrudingonsomethingprivate,aprevious,forgottenlife.
Whenshe'dgottenmarried,hercareerslowlyfadedoffintonothing.
Nobodyhadwrittenanythingabouthersincetheearly2000s.
IalsofoundthedocumentarythatPetetheBagBoymusthaveseen,adatedpiecethatdidnotevenshowherface,onlymentionedherinalistofnames.
Ididn'tknowifherhusbandwasstillalive.
Iassumednot,sinceIneverheardabouthim.
IthoughtaboutgoingnextdoorandaskingJohnny,butresistedandwenttobed.
…76Ittookmetwoweeks.
Ms.
Sandyhadmissedbothweek'ssupportgroups.
Summerhadfinallycomeintofullswing,andtemperatureswerealreadygettinguncomfortable.
Thedayofmywalk,IstoodwithJohnnyinthedrivewaywhilehesmoked.
"Nah,Ididn'tknowthat,"hesaidashereachedintohispocketforhislighter.
Heofferedmeasmoke,andIshookmyhead.
Heraisedhiseyebrowsinanobviousquestion,didnotreceiveananswer,andthenlithiscigarette.
"Aren'tthoseTonyawardsjustforplays"Inodded.
"Yes,hermit.
""Hell,Idon'tknowthatshit.
Mendon'twatchBroadwayplays.
""You'reasexistasshole,"Iinformedhim.
Ikickedsomegravelandwatcheditskitterdownthedriveway.
Thedogacrossthestreetbarkedinmygeneraldirection.
"Doesshelivealoneinthathouse"Iasked.
"FarasIknow,"hesaid.
"Shewasmarried,once,"Isaid.
"Maybeshehasherdeadhusbandlyinginthebedupstairs.
""What"heasked,lookingatmelikemaybehehadhitmeovertheheadwiththatpieceofwood.
"Withallthewaxfiguressurroundinghim,"Iadded,laughingatmyownjoke.
"What"heaskedagain.
"Nevermind.
"Isighed.
"Istartchemotomorrow,"Isaid.
"Shit,"hesaid.
Irockedbackandforthonmyfeet.
"I'llbeback,"Iannounced.
Iwipedthesweatfromthebackofmyneck.
God,itwashot.
Ihatedsummer.
IfIwasgonnadiefromthiscancerandrotinhell,Ididn'tneedapreviewoftheintenseheatawaitingme.
77Thecrowdhaddwindledslowlythroughouttheday.
Carsturnedaroundandheadedhome.
Ididn'tevenbecomeconsciouslyawareofthisuntilIwalkeddowntoMs.
Sandy'shouse.
Therewereafewpeoplesittingonthecurbacrossfromherhouseandsomecarsparkedontheroad.
Ididn'tseeanyfiguresonherlawnasIapproached.
Afewkidsrodetheirbikesby,nearlyrunningmedownintheirchildish,exuberantjoy.
Iconsideredyellingafewwordsatthem,butdecidedagainstit.
Cancerdidn'tneedtoturnmeintoabiggercrankybitchthanIalreadywas.
WhenIfinallyreachedthefrontofherlawn,thetoesofmyshoestouchingthecurb,IrealizedwhyIhadn'tseenanyfigures.
Everythinghadmelted.
Ididn'tevenknowthethemeshehadchosenfortheweek.
AllIsawwaswhitegoopalloverherlawn,runninginrivuletsdownherfrontlawnandleakingontothestreet.
Oneofthecarshadaringofwaxwrappedaroundthefronttire.
Itwasapolicecar,emptyofinhabitants.
Itookinthesceneandwipedthesweatfrommyupperlip.
"Shehasn'tcomeoutyet,"oneofthebystanders,anolderman,calledouttome.
"Damnshameabouttheheat.
""Igoogledit,"thewomanbesidehimsaid.
"Iguesswaxstartsmeltingat99degrees.
Theheatindexisoverahundredtoday.
""Oh,"Isaid.
Ilookedoveratthecarandthewax-wheel.
"Whyisthereacopcarhere""Wecalledthecops,"thefirstmanadded.
"We'reworriedbecauseshehasn'tcomeoutofherhouseatalltoday.
Usuallyshecomesoutinthemiddleofthenighttoputoutnewfigures,butwe'vebeenheresinceyesterdayandhaven'tseenher.
"78Isatonthecurbawayfromthecoupleandwaited.
Halfofmewasn'tsurprisedwhenthefiretruckandambulancejoinedthecopcar.
Severaluniformedpeoplemovedintothehouse,theirfootstepscrackingagainstthestripsofmeltedwaxthathadnowhardenedintheyard.
Ittookanhourtoreceivethebadnews.
Ms.
SandyWringershaddiedinhersleep.
Thenextnewspaperbrushedonthis,butmainlywantedtotalkabouthowpolicefoundandcountedfifty-threemannequinsinherhouse.
Allthefigureswereposedaroundintheroomsliketheywerelivingpeopleassignedwithcertaintasks.
JulieAndrewswasstandingattheironingboard.
EthelMermanwasatatablesetwithtwofull-setplacemats.
CarolBurnettwasupstairsinthebathroomholdingatubeoflipstick.
Alltheyneededwereheartsandlungsandvoicesandthehousewouldhavebeenfulloflivingpeople.
79OUTOFORDER"Inevertrustamanwithtwofirstnames,"RedDresssaidtome.
Shespokequickly.
AsIwatched,sheranhertonguearoundtheinsideofhercheek.
Ididn'tknowifshewasaimingtobecoyorhadsomethingstuckinherteeth.
Theroomhadremainedfairlyquietduringthedates.
Theonlyrulewaswewerenotallowedtotalkaboutthecity.
Forsomepeople,thereweren'talotofalternativetopics.
"What"Iasked.
Shereachedforward,redfingernailglimmering.
Ithoughtmaybeshe'drunitacrossmythroat,endingthisuncomfortableencounterprematurely,butsheonlytappedthenamebadgeIworeundermycollarontherightside.
"JohnVincentEdwards.
IsVincentyourmiddlename"Ishookmyhead.
"Didn'tthinkso.
So,whata'yagobyJohnorVincent"Ialmostfeltashamed,likeachildcaughtinfrontofascribbled-onwallequippedwithaCrayolainhand.
MacaroninCheesehadbeenmyfavoritecolorasakid.
MaybeI'dbeholdingthatcolor.
OrmaybeI'dchosenGrannySmithAppletogoalongwiththefoodtheme.
Eitherway,myfacefeltTickleMePink.
"JohnVincent,usually.
""Is'usually'yourmiddlename"sheasked,laughing.
Switch.
"So,everfiredagun"BlueEyesaskedme.
Shepinchedthependantonhernecklacebetweenherfingers,runningitbackandforthacrossthechain.
"No,"Ireplied.
80"NoevenaBBgun"ShelookedatmeasifI'dadmittedlightinghousesonfireasahobby.
Hobbieswereanacceptabletopiconthelisttodiscuss,alongwithchildhood,relationshiphistory,favoritethings,andafewothermildtopics.
Thoughtsonlooting,waterquality,whattodoifyouwantadivorcefromadeceasedpartnerbutcan'tgetthepaperwork,etc,weredangerous,butusuallyokay.
"No,"Irepeated.
Sheflickedahandatme,likeaqueendismissingalowlyservant.
Switch.
"Whatsideoftowndoyouliveon"BlackLipstickaskedme.
"Careful!
"thecoordinator,amanwhoresembledatomatoinbothhisroundshapeand"stressrashes,"saidtoherfromhispostbythedoor.
Ifeltalittlelikeaninmateduringvisitationhours.
NotthatI'deverbeentoprison.
BlackLipstickblewaraspberry.
"Imean,doyouhaveaniceplacetolive""Anapartment.
It'snotgreat.
"Iwipedatthesweatonmyupperlip.
Theaircirculationinthiscrampedbuildingcouldreallybeimproved.
"Doesithaveabasement"sheasked.
"AshelterAnything""No,"Ireplied.
Sheblewanotherraspberry,spittleactuallyleavingherlips,travelingairborneacrossthetable,andsprinklingacrossmyface.
Istoodup.
Theotherspeeddatingcontestantslookedupatme,allpausinginconversation.
TheylookedtomeasifIweretheirleader,andIhadaninclinationtoleapontothetableandyell,"Therevolutionisnigh!
"Instead,IleftthesmallbrickbuildingontheSouthsideoftownandbeganwalkingdownthesidewalk.
81JohnVincenthadbeenmygrandfather'sname.
NotthatIreallycaredaboutthat.
Ihadnofamilylefttorememberthosetypesoffacts,exceptme.
Iworriedthatthecoordinatorwouldchargemewithbreakingacontract.
I'dsigneduptoparticipateinspeeddatingforthreeweeks.
ButI'dlastedtwentyminutes.
Iknewmywifeatthispointwouldhavesaidsomethinglike:Youcouldhavegiventhewomenabreak.
Theyprobablyfeltjustasawkwardasyou.
Iwasinsultedandspiton,I'dsay.
She'dsmileandpinchmycheeklikealittleboyinthecandystore.
Oralittleboywho'ddrawnalloverthewallandburstintotearsofguilt.
Youaresosmart,JohnVincent.
Theywouldhaveseenthat,ifyou'dstayedformorethantenminutes.
Twentyminutes,I'dcorrected,pullingalockofherhairinanaffectionatemanner.
Herfulllipswouldhavesmiledatmeinateasingway,hersofteyestrainedonmyface.
Irememberedeverydetailabouther,insideandout.
Ifeltguiltyforsigningupforthespeeddating,atfirst.
ButI'dgrowntiredoftryingtomakeconversationwiththewallsinasemi-seriousmanner.
Ipretendedmytoasterwasthedeadmayor(assassinatedandnotreplaced,yet)sometimes.
Iscoldedhisincompetencewhilewaitingonmytoast,toastedjustslightly,thewayIlikedit.
AsIwalkedtothebusstoparoundthecornerfromthebrickbuilding,acarflewbyontheemptystreet.
Ayounghooliganinaninmate-inspiredblack-and-whitestripedhoodieyelled,"Yourtimeiscoming,asshole!
"Hethrewabeerbottle,anditshatteredonthesidewalkafewfeettomyleft.
Iwatchedthecarspeedaway.
Weird,mywifewouldhavesaid.
Probablydrunk.
82Probably,I'dsay.
Isatonthestickybench.
Bendingmyheadback,Ilookedatthefadedflyersdecoratingthetelephonepolebehindme,somesofadedtheywerenowblank.
Someonehadlostablackandwhiteterrierandtherewardwas"areallynicethankyou.
"Anotherflyeradvertisedthefallfair,whichhappenedalittleoversixmonthsago.
ApinkpapersaidGARAGESALEbutthe"garage"hadbeencrossedoutandsomeonehadwrittenPROSTITUTEinblackmarker.
Classy,mywifewouldhavesaid.
WhenisitI'dsay,laughing.
Shewouldhaveswattedmyarm,scoldingmewhilestillremainingamusedbecausesheknewIwouldneverbeunfaithfultoher.
Theflyerontopoftherest,brightredwithwhitelettersread,THISTOWNWILLBEOURS.
Thebus,ofcourse,didn'tcome.
Thebusseshadbecomelessandlessreliableasoflately.
Somebusdrivershadstoppedshowingup.
I'dheardaboutthisfromawomanI'dsoldamulti-suction,multi-surfacevacuumtoafewmonthsback.
She'dtoldmeamidstmysalespitchthatherhusbandhadtakenhervacuumduringtheseparation.
"He'ddrivenbusses,"thewomansaid.
"Justupandquit.
Leftthejobandmeandtookmydamnvacuumcleanerandleftthiscursedtown.
"She'dbeenaneasyclient.
Therecently-separatedonesusuallywere.
IfeltcoldasIwalkedhome.
Ihadmissedthenewsthismorningandhadnotbroughtanadequatecoat.
Themetalontheinsideofmynamebadgerubbedagainstmychestlikeanun-meltingicecube.
IkeptitoninspiteofRedDress'scommentsonmyname.
Iwantedsomeonetopassbyandreadit.
"Oh,JohnVincent!
"they'dsay.
"Howsophisticatedaname.
Howcompletelyquaint.
"Didpeoplestillusetheword"quaint"un-ironicallyOrdidtheystilluseit83like,"Oh,Suzie,thathideoushaircutthatlookslikeyouputyourheadintoawood-chipperissoquaint.
"Eitherway,thenamebadgestayedon.
WhenIfinallydidreachhomesomehourslater,Iputitonmypajamashirt,keepingitonmeasIsleptanddreamedofmywife.
…"YouseeMa'am,"IsaidasIwalkedaroundRichWoman'slivingroom,showingtheversatilityofthevacuumthathadbeensittinginmyapartmentforsomemonthsnow.
TheBossManhadstoppedsendingmevacuums,probablyonaccountofthepostofficebeingburntdown.
ButIthoughtifIsoldallthevacuumstheyhadalreadysent,IcouldgotothenexttownoverandsendalettertoBossManwithallmychecks.
Isoldallsixvacuumssittinginmyapartment,I'dwrite.
Customersarestillwillingtobuyhere!
"Themobilityofthiscleanerissimplyrevolutionary,"ItoldRichWoman.
"Thewheelscanturnat360degrees.
Andasforthesuctionpower,"IledthemachinetowardsthesmallpileofcoffeegroundsIhadbroughtwithmeandsprinkledontoherwhiteshagcarpet.
"Onesweepisallthatisneeded.
"Iranthevacuumoverthecoffeegroundsandsteppedasidesoshecouldseetheirdisappearance.
RichWoman,whoworeapinstripedsuitnicerthananythingIownedandbluetortoiseshellglasses,didnotgetupfromhercouchtolook.
Sheheldalargebottleofwineinherhandandoccasionallysippedfromit.
"IsaidIdidn'twantone.
""But,Ma'am,Ma'am,Ma'am.
.
.
"Iturnedthevacuumoff.
Inquietmomentslikethis,itfeltasifIcouldimaginemywifeatouroldhouse,waitingformetocomehome.
"Thisvacuumdoesnothavetobeemptiedforuptothreemonths,vacuumingeveryday.
"84Shelookedatmewithskepticism.
Foramoment,Itriedtorememberifthemanualhadsaidthreemonthsorthreeweeks.
Youshouldhavereaditbetter,mywifewouldhavesaid,havingreadtheentiremanualandmemorizeditinanhour.
Ididn'thavetime,I'dsay.
Ihadtowalkheresincethebussesstillaren'tworking.
Youcouldn'thavemultitaskedshe'dask.
"I'mnotgoodatmultitasking,"Isaid.
"What"RichWomanasked.
"Thisvacuumisgreatatmultitasking,"Isaidtoher.
"Itnotonlyvacuumsupmesses,thereisalsothislittleparthere,"Imotionedtowardsthefront.
Ididn'tknowexactlywherethepartwas.
"Thatmistsyourcarpetwithyourchoiceoffragrance.
Revolutionary,Itellyou.
"Shepushedupasleeveandlookedatherwatch.
"Listen,I'vegotworkinanhour,andIhavetofireallofmyemployees.
I'mnotinagreatmood.
IfIgetthisvacuum,willyouleave""Oh,sure,sure,"Isaid.
"Weactuallyhavethisparticularmodelhalfoff,currently.
""Whatever,"shesaid,risingfromthecouch.
Shewalkedintoherdiningroom,andIfollowedher.
Herapartmentwasreallynice,otherthanthespraypaintononewallneartheentrancethatreadWARNING:IOWNAGUN.
WhenI'dknockedonherdoor,I'dheardatleastfourlocksbeingundonebeforethechainlockallowedhertoopenthedooralittleinordertospeaktome.
Ittooktenminutesofherinterrogationbeforeshefinallyletmein.
Herpursesatonthediningroomtable,andshereachedintoit,retrievingherwallet.
Turning,shelookedatmeoverthetopsofherglasses.
"Howmuch"Ileftherapartmentvacuumlessandslightlygiddy.
Thathadbeenthefirstsaleallweek.
Yesterday,awomanhadpepper-sprayedmewhenI'dtriedtocomeintoherapartment.
I85whistledasIwalked,contentwiththefrigidtemperatures.
AsIroundedacornerintoanalleywaythatsavedtenminutesofwalkingaroundtheblock,alargemansteppedforwardandblockedmypath.
"Alright,buddy,"hesaid.
"Let'sseewhatyougot.
"Ilookedupathim,runningahandundermynose,whichhadbeguntoleakwithsnot.
Thesnotwasalittlebloody.
Ihadseveredryskinaroundmynostrils.
"Ijustsoldmyonlyvacuum,"Isaid.
Hetookoutametalobject.
Agun.
"Emptyyourpockets,"hesaid.
Ismiledathim.
"You'regoodatthis,"Isaid.
"YousoundjustlikethepeopledoonLawandOrder.
"Heevenlookedlikeone—nondescriptfeatures,facialhair,blackattirewithablackbeanie.
"Iain'tjokin,'bud,"hesaid.
Hewaggedthegunalittle,makingacursivenintotheair.
"Justgivemewhatyouhaveandyoucangoonyourway.
""Alright,alright,"Isaid.
Itookoutmywalletandgaveittohim,aswellasmyapartmentkeyonakeychainwithanengravedvacuumasadecoration.
Thecompanyhadgivenittometwentyyearsago,whenI'dsoldmyfirstvacuum.
Helookedthroughthewallet.
"Allyouhaveisacouponfordogtreatsandareceiptfromthelibraryfrom,"hesquintedatthetop,"lookslikeayearago.
""Oh,thoseareprobablyoverdue.
Theynevercalledme.
"Isighed.
"Andmydogdiedawhileago.
You'rewelcometokeepthatcoupon,ifyoulike.
""Youhavegottobeshittingme,"theRobberMansaid.
"Seriously.
Everythingoutofyourpockets,man.
"86Iturnedmypocketsinsideout,andafewquartersdroppedoutandfelltothepavement,onequarterspinninglikeatop.
Webothwatcheditwithmildinterest.
"Salutations,"Isaid,bendingdowntopickupthefallenchangeandholdingmypalmouttohim.
Thenhefoundthecheckthewomanhadgivenmetuckedintothebackpocketofthewallet.
"Acheck"heasked.
"Oh,youcanhavethat,too,Isuppose.
Ireallydon'tfeellikebeingshottoday.
"Ismiledathim.
"Thebanksain'tevenworking.
Thisisuselesstome.
"Heletgoofthepaper,anditflutteredawayinthebreeze.
Iwatcheditleavewithmuchremorse.
RobberManbroughthisarmbackandstruckmeonthetemplewiththegun'shandle.
Idon'trecallhittingthepavement.
…WhenIcameto,everythingwasdark.
AtfirstIthoughtImighthavebeenblinded,butasIsatup,Isawastreetlightflickeringdowntheway.
Iwasmissingmyshirtandmyshoes.
Andmyapartmentkey.
Andmywalletwiththecoupon.
Mynamebadge,thankGod,satonmynakedchest.
MysocksquicklybecamesoakedwiththeliquidinthealleyasIwalkedtowardsthestreetlight.
Ialsoclippedthenamebadgetomypants.
Kindoflikewalkingtowardsthelight,rightMywifewouldjoke.
"I'mnotdeadlikeyou,"Isaid,touchingmytempleandwincing.
Myfingersfeltwetwithblood.
Don'tbesuchasourpuss.
Atleastyouhaveyourpants.
Wouldhavebeenembarrassingwalkinghomeinyourboxers.
Alaughfromher.
87"Yeah,"Isaid,reachingthestreetlight.
Apayphonesatbesideit.
IpattedmypocketsandrealizedRobberManhadtakenallmychange.
Shiveringalittle,IwalkedfurtherdownthestreetuntilIreachedatwenty-four-hourconveniencestore.
BeforeIcouldwalkthroughtheslidingdoors,asmall,Asianwomanappearedinfrontofme,levelingagunatmynose.
"Idon'twantanytroublefromyourpeople,"shesaid.
Thestorebehindherlookedempty,noproducts,notevenshelves,butshestillworeanapronwiththestore'slogoonthefront.
Iliterallystareddownthebarrelofthegun,feelinglikeIwasstarringinaWestern.
MydadhadbeenahugefanofJohnWaynewhenhe'dbeenalive.
WeusedtowatchthemtogetherwhenIwasakid.
"Ijustwanttouseyourphone.
I'vebeenrobbed.
AndnowitappearsI'mabouttobeshot,again.
Well,Ididn'tgetshotbefore.
Justthreatened.
""Get.
Out,"shesaid,doingthelittleclickythingwiththegunthatmeantitwasreadytofire.
Theycalledthatcockingthegun,Ithought.
JohnWaynedidthatalotwhenshitgotreal,astheyoungpeoplesay.
Iheldmyhandsupandsalutedherwithone.
ThenIwalkedfurtherdowntheroad.
Maybeshedidn'tlikemenwithtwofirstnames,either.
WalkingtoagasstationfullofpumpswithOUTOFORDERsigns,Iapproachedthefrontdoor.
"Iamnotamadman,"IannouncedasIpushedthedooropen.
Alittlebelljingled.
"Ijustwanttouseyourphone.
"Theplacewasempty,evenasthelightsabovebuzzedandflickered.
Theshelveshadmostlybeenclearedbythispointandthefloorfeltsticky.
Walkingaroundthefrontcounter,Iplayedwiththecashregisterabit,butcouldn'topenit.
Notthatitmattered.
Stealingisagainstyourcodeofethics,mywifewouldhavesaid,hadshebeenalive.
Hadshenotbeenmurdered.
88"Sowaswalkingintoastorewithnoshirtandnoshoes.
Theyhavethatphrase,orwhatever.
Inevertesteditoutbefore,"Isaid.
Maybethathadbeenwhatthewomanhadmeantbyyourkind.
Thenoshirt,noshoes,noservicekindofguy.
Ifoundthephoneundertheregisteronalittlewhiteshelf.
Afterlisteningtothedialtone,Idialed911.
"Hello,911,whatisyouremergency"thewomananswered.
"Hello,yes,I'vebeenrobbed.
"Ifoundapennexttothephoneandclickeditopen.
Thenclosed.
Open.
Closed.
Open.
Closed.
Op—.
Stopthat,mywifewouldhavescolded.
Iputthependownasthewomanresponded,"Areyouhurt""Uh.
"Ifeltmytempleagain,andathudofpurepainradiatedthroughmyskull.
"Mildly.
""I'mpickingupyourlocationinCalifornia"sheasked.
"Yes,ma'am,"Isaid.
"I'matagasstation.
It'sempty.
I'mguessingbecausetheyranoutofgas.
""Sir.
"Hertoneremainedserious.
"AreyouinCrusadePoint""Yes,"Isaid.
"I—,"Therewasalongpause.
"Ithoughtwefilteredoutthesecalls,"shemutteredtoherself.
"Sir,I'msorry.
Wecan'thelpyou.
""Butyou're911,"Isaid.
"Yes,sir,buttheNationalGuardhasbeenunabletogetthroughthebarricadesandintoyourcity—.
"Shebegantosaysomethingelseaboutbeingtrapped,butthelinewentdead.
Islammedthephonebackontotheotherpartofthephone.
WhatwasthatpartcalledThereceiverNo.
89Ithinkjustthebasewilldo,mywifewouldhavesaid.
"Oh,yes,yes.
"Istoodupandheldontothecounteruntilmybalanceresumed.
Iwalkeddowntheaislesandfoundsomeexpiredcansofpeaches.
OnecanconvenientlyhadthelittletabthingsoIdidn'tneedacanopener.
Imademywaybackontothestreet,sippingpeachesfromthecan.
Ievensalutedsomeimaginarypeopleandpreparedapretendspeech.
"911cannotreachme,"Isaid.
"ButatleastIhavethesepeaches.
"Mywifewouldhavelaughed.
…WhenIreachedhome,IrealizedIcouldnotgetinbecauseRobberManhadtakenmykey.
He'dalsotakenmywallet,whichincludedmyaddressonmylicense.
Hecouldhavecomebackheretostayatmyplace.
Iknockedonmydoorwiththreequickrapsofmyknuckles.
Perhapswecouldmakeuparoommateagreement.
Iwouldsleeponthefloor,andhecouldhavemybed.
Hewouldnotbeabletotouchmyvacuums.
Nooneanswered.
Iknockedforthirtyminutes,andthedoorneveropened.
Thelandlordofthebuildinghaddisappearedmonthsago,soIhadnoimmediateplanofaction.
ThespeeddatingprogramI'dbeenatafewweeksbeforenolongermet,andIcouldn'treachtheprogramcoordinatoronaccountofthephonesnotusuallyworking.
Isatonthestepsoutsidemyapartmentcomplexthatoverlookedtheparkinglot,watchingthenightsky.
Noonecameoutsidemuchanymore.
Childrenwerelockedindoorsbyeight.
Inthedistance,Iheardgunfire.
MaybeRobberManfindinganothervictim,maybenot.
Maybehewasupstairsinmyapartmentopeningmyvacuumsboxes.
Nelson,amanwholiveddownstairs,cameupthewalk,holdingabriefcase.
"Hello,"Isaidtohim.
90"Hey,JohnVincent,"hesaid.
"WhereisyourshirtAren'tyourfreezing"Myfingersfeltalittlenumb.
Myheadwoundfeltalittlestabilized.
"Mildly,"Isaid.
"ARobberMantookmyapartmentkey.
IwishIwouldn'thavelostmycar.
Thebussesaren'trunning.
""Iknow,"Nelsonreplied.
"Myofficeclosedtoday.
Mybosssaidwearealldelutingourselvesifwethinkthistownisgoingtosurvivethis.
"Ididn'tparticularlycareaboutNelson'sjoborknowanythingaboutit.
MybedroomwasfullofvacuumsIstillhadlefttosell.
MyheartsankfurtherwhenIrecalled,yetagain,mylackofaccesstothem.
IwasbeginningtofeelveryannoyedandinconveniencedwithRobberMan.
Nelsonsatdownbesideme,restinghisbriefcaseonhisknees.
Hishandsshookasheranthemoverthesmoothleathercoveringthecase.
"MargeandRoberttriedtoescapetheotherday.
MargecamebackandsaidtheyshotRobertatthegate.
Thosemonstersaren'tlettingusleave.
""Hm,"Isaid.
IvaguelyrecalledhearingaboutMargeandRobertwhoIthinklivedsomewherearoundhere,butIcouldn'tpicturetheirindividualfaces.
"CanIinterestyouinbuyingavacuum"Nelsonlookedoveratme.
"Ijustlostmyjob.
Inolongerhaveanincome.
'"Damn,"Isaidaswebothstaredoutattheparkinglot.
"Ihaven'tbeenabletosendcheckstomyvacuumcompany,anyway.
Ijustkeeptheminadrawer.
""Whydoyouevenbother"Nelsonasked.
"It'smyjob,"Isaid.
Moregunfiredownthestreet.
Nelsonstoodup,holdingthebriefcaseagainsthim.
"Doyouthinkthey'llcomehere""Who"Iasked.
"Them,"hesaid.
91Ilaughed.
"Yousoundlikeyoubelonginsomehorrormovie.
We'llbefine.
Thebusseswillcomebackandthephonelineswillopenand911willfindus.
"Nelsonwatchedmeforawhileandthensetdownhisbriefcase.
Heslippedoffhissuitjacketandhelditouttome.
"Staywarm,JohnVincent.
""Thankyou,"Isaid,slippingonthejacketthatstillheldremnantsofhisbodyheat.
Heleft,walkingdownthehallwaytohisapartment.
IthoughtaboutaskingifIcouldstaywithhim,butIdidn'twanttointrude.
Itookmynamebadgeoffofmypantsandclippeditontothesuitjacket.
Ilickedtheremainingpeachjuiceoffmyfingers.
…You'rehomeless,mywifewouldhavesaidforthethirdnightinarowthatIsleptunderthestairsofmyapartmentbuildingontheconcrete.
Somepeoplewalkedby,butnoneofferedmeasparebed.
Hardlyanyonenoticedmeatall.
Igotthesuspicionthatseveralpeoplewhohadlivedinthiscomplexnolongerstayedhere.
It'stemporary,I'dsay.
Thenightsaregettingcolder,she'dsay.
It'stemporary,I'dsay.
You'reindanger,she'dsay.
I'mdoingokay,I'dsay.
No,she'dargue,you'renot,dear.
Onenight,Iawokeandsmelledsmoke.
Openingmyeyes,Isawembersfloatingabovemylineofvision.
Theywerebeautiful,mostlycharredpiecesofplasterorpaintwithjustatouchoforangeflamearoundtheedges,flutteringtothegroundlikeflowerpetals.
92Sittingup,Isawthemintheparkinglot,allstandingshoulder-to-shoulder.
Therewereeightofthem,bothmenandwomennakedandcoveredinwarpaintofseveralcolors.
Theyheldtorchesintheirhands.
"Thistownisours!
"theyyelledoverandover,theirvoicessoundingliketheywerecomingfromonesingulargutturalbeast.
Theyspokeofretributionandofthetimeforreckoning.
Irememberedseeingtheminthenewspapers,backwhenthepaperhadbeenregularlydeliveredandIhadahouse.
Revolutionists.
Ialwaysthoughtitwasaskipandajumpawayfromaquirkyschoolclub.
Ithoughtaboutaskingthemiftheywereinterestedinbuyingavacuum,thenIrememberedwheretheywere.
Myvacuums,sittingupinmyapartment,possiblygoingupinflames.
Igottomyfeetandadjustedmynamebadge.
"There'sone!
"awomancalledasshecaughtmymovement.
Afewmenapproachedme,andItriednottostareattheirnakedness.
Staringatnakedpeopleisrude,mywifewouldhavesaidhadshebeenalive.
Hadshenotbeenmurdered.
Hadshenotbeentakenandkilledassomekindofbloodsacrificetothesepeople.
HadtheynotburnedmyhousedownandforcedmetomoveintothisapartmentthatnowonlyRobberManhadthekeyfor.
"Hello,"Isaid,wavingastheycameuptome.
Theylookedabouttwenty,eachwithtwobrightredpaintstreaksacrosstheircheekslikesomeancientwarriortribe.
Itappedmynamebadgewithmyindexfingernail,whichneededtrimming.
"I'mJohnVincent.
BothJohnandVincentaremyfirstname,Iknowit'salittleconfusing.
"Onereachedupandrippedthenamebadgeoffmyshirt,throwingittotheground.
93"Thatwasnotverynice,"Isaid.
Isteppedforwardtoretrieveit,buttheothermansteppedupinfrontofme.
Ilookedupathim,severalheadstallerthanIwas.
"I'mhereformyvacuums.
""Foryourwhat"heasked.
"Excuseme,"Isaid,anddashedupthestairs.
Iheardthembarrelingafterme,twobearsuncaged,butImanagedtomakeittothesecondfloor.
Oneleftandonerightandtherewasmydoor,stillintact.
Thefiremustbeonthefirstfloor,becausehereonlysmokeheldevidenceofthefire.
Irammedmyshoulderintothedoor,likeJohnWaynewouldhavedonehadhebeenhere.
Thedoordidn'tbudge.
"Ihavetogetthem,"Isaid.
JohnVincent,mywifewouldhavesaid,youcan'tdietryingtosavethosedumbvacuumcleanersofyours.
ButIhadtosavethem.
Ikickedthedoorandscreamedandclawedatthewood,whichrippedmynailstoshreds.
Iknewthemenwerebehindme,waitingandwatching.
Ihitthedooroverandoverand,finally,itgavewithaloudsplinteringofwood.
Irushedintothespaceandthereweremyvacuumsinmyemptylivingroom.
Allfiveofthem,sittingintheiruntouchedboxesandwaitingforme.
IsmiledasIsawthem,asifreunitedwitholdfriends.
IfelttheheatrisingfromthefloorbeneathmeasIsatdowninfrontoftheboxes.
"I'mhere,"Isaid,asIwouldhavesaidtomywife,hadIbeentheretosaveherfromthosepeople.
"It'sgoingtobealright.
"IsmiledattheboxesasIheardfootstepssoundingsomewhereinsidetheapartment.
"It'sgoingtobealright,"Isaid.
"Itreallyis.
"