He tapped on the glass. “Want to come inside?” he said. “Shot glasses, velvet paintings, lacquered scorpions?”
He was a snob, she thought.
He sighed and walked away, patting the breast pocket of his jacket for his wallet. Janice moved across the seat quickly, grasped the wheel and drove off in a great rattle and shriek of sand. She was back at the rest stop in fifteen minutes. The children had climbed the van’s ladder and were lying on the roof. The woman was nowhere visible. The man was still rigidly holding the sign. Janice pulled up beside him.
“How you doing?” he said. He had bright, pale eyes.
“I want to give you twenty dollars,” Janice said. She opened her purse and was disturbed to find she had only two fifty-dollar bills.
“Rose!” the man yelled, lowering the sign. He had a long, smooth torso, except for the appendectomy scar.
The woman emerged from the van and regarded Janice coolly.
“Yes?” she said.
“I saw your sign,” Janice said, confused.
The children rose languidly from the roof and looked down at her.
“We have to travel seventy miles to our home and get these children in school tomorrow,” Rose said formally. “What we do, what our policy is, is we drive to the nearest gas station and at that point you give us the amount you’ve decided on. That way you’ll be assured that we’re using it for gas and gas only.”
Janice was grateful for the rules they had worked out.
“People will give you money at a rest stop whereas they wouldn’t at a gas station,” the man said. “It’s just human nature. They’re more at peace with themselves in rest stops.”
“You can leave dogs and cats at rest stops and someone will pick them up,” the boy said. “We left a couple of dogs here a couple weeks ago and they’re gone now. Someone picked them up, gave them a good home.”
Introductions were made. The man’s name was Leo. The children were Zorro and ZoeBella. Janice identified herself too.
“Skinny Puppy’s my gang name,” Zorro said, “but use it at your peril.”
“Gang name my ass,” Leo said. “He doesn’t know anything about gangs. He signed a lowrider last week. Practically got us killed.”
“I didn’t know I was signing,” Zorro said. “I just had my hand out the window.”
“Bastard about run us off the highway,” Leo said.
Janice realized that she was gazing at them openly, a little stupidly. She suggested that they drive to the gas station so they could all be on their way.
“Can I go with you?” Rose asked. “I would like to feel like a human being, if only for a few miles.”
“Lemme too!” Zorro cried. He opened the back door of Janice’s car, tumbled over the front seat and snuggled against her. “Mnnnn, you smell fine,” he said.
“I don’t know where he picks that shit up from,” Rose muttered. “Certainly not from his father. Get out of that vehicle now!” she screamed.
The child flipped backward over the seat and out the door and jumped into the van. ZoeBella, who had not uttered a word, climbed in beside him.
Janice invited Rose to ride with her to the gas station, which Leo seemed to be familiar with. She felt blessed with social responsibility. She was doing well. It would be over soon, and she would be able to look back on this in the future. Richard had only one mental key and it didn’t open all locks, she had always felt this about Richard. And she had lots of mental keys, she thought gratefully, and that’s why she was moving so freely through a world that welcomed her.
Leo started the van with difficulty. Blue smoke poured from the tailpipe.
“That doesn’t look good,” Janice noted.
“Rings, seals, valves, you name it,” Rose said.
The van gained the highway and wobbled off ahead of them. Smoke appeared to be rising from the wheels as well. The sky was cloudless and sharply blue, and the smoke floundered upward into it.
“Some people like the sky out here,” Rose volunteered, “but I prefer the sky over New York City. Now that’s sky. The big buildings push it back so it’s way, way overhead. It looks wilder that way.”
Janice agreed, thinking that this was a highly original remark. She felt splendid about herself. She looked at Rose warmly.
“That Zorro smudged your seat,” Rose said, regarding a dusty footprint on the car’s upholstery.
Janice waved this concern away. “Such beautiful children,” she said. “And such unusual names.”
“God knows I didn’t want to call him Zorro, but his father insisted. Those two aren’t from the same stock. ZoeBella’s dad Warren was blind. I hope that you, like many others, aren’t under the misperception that blind people are good people. It just isn’t so. Blind people don’t feel that they have to interact with others at all. They contribute nothing to a conversation. He had a wonderful dog, though, Mountain. Mountain came to Lamaze class with us. Lamaze encourages you to focus on something other than birth and I focused on Mountain week after week, but when it was finally time to have ZoeBella they wouldn’t let Mountain into the delivery room. A violation of infection-control procedures, they said. Well, I freaked, and I think the whole thing messed up ZoeBella too. Here I went the whole pregnancy with no cigarettes or liquor and then they won’t let the goddamn dog into the delivery room. It was a very, very difficult birth and Warren, the bastard, was no help at all. But we sued the hospital for not letting us have Mountain in there, and they settled out of court. Warren was long gone by then, but that money did us for four years, Leo and Zorro too. What an inspiration that was. I wish I could come up with another one that good. Have you ever fucked a blind man?”
“Why, no,” Janice said. “No, I haven’t.”
“Do it before you die, girl,” Rose said. “There’s nothing like it.”
Janice nodded.
“But don’t stick around afterwards. Get your cookies out of there,” Rose advised.
Janice nodded again. She was beginning to worry somewhat about Richard’s mood when she retrieved him. The van weaved smoldering before them. Janice felt a little queasy watching it. By the time they reached the exit, Janice found that she was gripping the steering wheel tightly. The van turned not into the gas station where Janice had left Richard but into one across the street, where it clattered to a stop.
“Makes you want a cocktail just looking at that heap, doesn’t it?” Rose said.
“I’d like to give you fifty dollars, if you don’t mind,” Janice said. “I think you probably need some oil too. Wouldn’t you like some oil? To make it all the way home?”
“Oh, you could drop a bundle into that thing,” Rose said. “It’s a suckhole.” She accepted the bill slowly from Janice’s fingers. “Thank you,” she said slowly. She seemed absorbed in some involuted ritual. She didn’t respect the money, it was clear, but she respected the person who gave her the money. Was that it? Janice wondered. Why was she giving her so much money anyway? Her own behavior was becoming increasingly suspect.
Rose got out of the car, stretched and ambled toward her family. Janice drove across the street. The trading post was locked tight. Four spotted dogs with heads the size of gallon buckets regarded her avidly from the car corral.
“Richard!” she called. The dogs went into an uproar. They raced around the enclosure, baying with the thrill of duty, upsetting their water dishes. Janice drove slowly in circles in the area of the trading post, then pulled out into the street and came to the end of town. The town simply stopped at an enormous Road Runner statue, beyond which were many thousands of acres of grazing land with not a creature grazing. Richard was a wily and annoying adversary, Janice thought. She stopped the car near the statue and got out, taking tiny sips of the superheated air, afraid to breathe too deeply. An elderly couple approached and asked if she would take a picture of them with their camera.