He tore the napkin from his neck and wrung it in his hands. Something welled up in his chest like a geyser. We waited. He shook his head back and forth, his mouth twisted.
“I’M NOT FOOLING, SHE’S DEAD!!!” he screamed.
On the sidewalk somebody went by with a transistor radio playing a commercial for a laundry detergent that makes everyday chores a breeze. When it was quiet again we ran over to Eddie, grabbing him and sitting him down; his legs couldn’t hold him up anymore. Fatigue, alcohol, and a mother who has just died on Christmas night-it was all well beyond the maximum weight for excess baggage.
He was looking straight ahead, his hands folded on the table. No one knew what to say. We stared at each other, wondering what to do next. Lisa kissed him on the forehead and licked away the beginning of a tear.
Betty and I being there, shifting our weight from one foot to the other without saying a word, didn’t help matters much. I couldn’t just slap him on the shoulder-Be okay, old pal-I never had that sort of ease. Death has always left me speechless. I was going to give Betty the sign that we should leave them alone together, but just then Eddie stood up abruptly, his two fists pushing on the table and his head down.
“I got to go down there,” he said. “The funeral’s tomorrow. I got to go…”
“Of course you do,” said Lisa. “But first you better get some rest. You can’t go down there like this.”
You only had to look at him to know he wouldn’t make it a hundred yards. Lisa was right. Before anything else he needed a few hours of sleep. We all did, in fact-anybody’s mother could understand that. But he was on a roll.
“I’m going to change. I got just enough time to change clothes…”
He was going off the deep end; at that point peeling a banana would have been too strenuous for him. I tried to get him back on course.
“Listen, Eddie. Be reasonable. Lie down for a few hours, then I’ll call a taxi. You’ll see, it’ll be better that way.”
He gave me a look, then started unbuttoning his shirt awkwardly.
“I don’t need a fucking taxi…”
“Really? You going on foot? I don’t know, how far is it?”
“If I leave now I think I can be there before nightfall,” he said.
This time it was me who collapsed into a chair. I pinched the bridge of my nose, then grabbed him by the arm.
“Are you kidding me, Eddie? You joking? You think you’re going to drive seven or eight hours in a row, when you can hardly keep your eyes open? You think we’re going to let you? You’re nuts, man…”
He started whining like a little boy, leaning on me. It was the worst thing that could have happened. I know my limits. Still, he insisted.
“But you got to understand,” he said. “It’s my mother, man. My mother died!”
I looked elsewhere-at the table, at the floor, at the white light waiting for mc by the window-and I stopped myself there. There’s always a brief moment of hypnotic terror that comes when you realize that you’re a rat. It’s a fairly nauseating sensation.
14
I stopped at the first place we found open on the side of the road. I parked the car by the pumps and got out.
In the bar, I had them line up three espressos in front of me. I burned my lips a little, but by then it didn’t make any difference. I was sore all over, not to mention my inflated eyes, at least doubled in volume. The smallest light bulb looked like a supernova to me. Having already gone about ninety hours without sleep, I decided to take a little three-hundred-fifty-mile drive. Was I not brilliant? Did I not have the stuff of which twentieth century heroes are made? Yes, except that I served pizzas for a living, and I didn’t ride with the Hell’s Angels. I was just going to an old lady’s funeral-the death waiting at the end of the journey was not my own. Times had changed.
I started giggling nervously to myself; it was impossible to stop. The guy behind the counter looked at me, worried. To reassure him, I grabbed the salt shaker and a hard-boiled egg and gave him the thumbs-up. I absentmindedly cracked the shell on the counter a little too hard and smashed the whole thing to a pulp in my hand. The guy jumped. I let the hand with all the egg on it drop to my side, and with the other hand I wiped away the tears that had welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t control myself. The guy came and wiped up the mess without saying a word.
I had barely gotten a hold on myself when Betty came and sat down on the stool next to me.
“Hey, you look like you’re in great shape!” she said.
“Yeah, I am. Be fine…”
“Eddie just fell asleep. Poor guy, he wasn’t making it…”
I started giggling again. She looked at me and smiled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I’m just beat, that’s all.”
She ordered coffee. I ordered three more. She lit a cigarette.
“I like this,” she said. “Here, with you, in this kind of place. Like we’d just set sail somewhere…”
I knew what she meant, but I didn’t believe in that anymore.
I drank my coffee and gave her a wink. I was too weak to resist.
We went back to the car, clinging together like two sardines under the ice cap.
Bongo came running up to us. The damn dog just about knocked me over in the snow. I must have been walking a little stiff-legged. A gust of wind could have blown me away.
I got back behind the wheel. Eddie was sleeping in the back seat, lying halfway over Lisa’s lap. I shook my head, then turned the ignition. When I think that that idiot was ready to hop in the car by himself… yeah, I could see it all now-facedown, asleep at the wheel; over the little white line, and bye-bye, baby. It irked me. I didn’t ungrit my teeth for quite some time.
A few hours later everyone was sleeping. It was surprising. It was nice out, and the farther down we got the less snow there was. The highway was pretty deserted, and I let myself switch lanes with abandon, to break the monotony. I tried to go over the dotted line without touching the dots. The car pitched gently. I didn’t know whether to watch the time or the mileage to know when we were getting close-I couldn’t decide. The question began to obsess me. I knew there wasn’t time for that. I turned up the radio. Some dude started talking to me in a peaceful voice about the life of Christ-insisting that he had not abandoned us. I hoped he was right, that he had his information straight. The sky was hopelessly empty, there was absolutely no sign of Him. Of course I’d understand completely if he turned his back on us once and for all-anyone would, in his shoes.
I smiled at the little spark in my soul, scarfing down a few crackers to pass the time, one eye on the tachometer. I kept the needle on the edge of the red. I amazed myself, I truly amazed myself. I wondered where I was finding the strength to stay conscious. Of course it’s true that my body was tense, my neck stiff, my jaws sore, and my eyelids burning-but there I was, eyes wide open, going up and down the hills while the time sped by. I stopped and tossed down some more coffee, then took off again, no one so much as stirring. The trip seemed like a life in miniature-the highs and the lows. The scenery changed a bit. Solitude whistled through the small opening in the window.
Betty rolled over in her sleep. I watched her. I didn’t ask myself where I was headed, nor what I was doing with her-it never entered my mind. I’m not the kind of guy who asks himself questions about why he doesn’t ask himself questions. I just liked looking at her. The sun was setting when I stopped for gas. I emptied the ashtray into a little paper bag which I tossed in a garbage can. This guy washed the windshield. I started giggling again for no reason. I pushed back into the seat and dug some change out of my pocket. I gave a fistful to the guy, my eyes tearing. He made a face at me. I wiped my eyes for the next two miles.