Foster arrived at midnight. We were in my room, sitting around drinking coffee and talking about small casual things that are never remembered afterwards, except perhaps in the twilight moments of our lives.
Foster never bothered to ring the bell on the front door. He said it made him think he was going into some kind of church and he’d had enough of that to last him forever.
BANG! BANG! BANG! he just slugged the door with his fist and I could always hear him and was afraid that he would break the glass. Foster couldn’t be overlooked or forgotten.
‘What’s that?’ Vida said, jumping up startled from the bed.
‘That’s Foster,’ I said.
‘It sounds like an elephant,’ she said.
‘He never touches the stuff,’ I said.
We went out into the library and turned on the lights and there was Foster on the other side of the door, still banging away with that big fist of his.
There was a large smile on his face and he was wearing his traditional T-shirt. He never wore a shirt or a coat or a sweater. It didn’t make any difference what the weather did. Cold, wind or rain, Foster always wore his T-shirt. He was of course sweating like a dam and his buffalo-heavy blond hair hung almost down to his shoulders.
‘Hello!’ he said. His voice came booming through as if the glass door were made of tissue paper. ‘What’s going on in there?’
I opened the door for him and could see the van parked out in front. The van was big and strange and looked like a prehistoric animal asleep in front of the library.
‘Well, here I am,’ he said and threw an arm around me and gave me a big hug. There was a bottle of whisky in his other hand and half the whisky was gone.
‘How’s it going, kid? Cheer up. Foster’s here. Hey, hello there,’ he said to Vida. ‘My, aren’t you a pretty girl! Damn, am I glad I drove down here! Every mile was worth it. My God, ma’am, you’re so pretty I’d walk ten miles barefooted on a freezing morning to stand in your shit.’
Vida broke up. There was a big smile on her face. I could tell that she liked him instantly.
My, how her body had relaxed these few months we’d been going together. She was still a little awkward, but now instead of treating it as a handicap, she treated it as a form of poetry and it was fantastically charming.
Vida came over and put her arm around Foster. He gave her a great big hug, too, and offered her a drink from his bottle of whisky.
‘It’s good for you,’ he said.
‘All right, I’ll give it a try,’ she said.
He wiped the mouth of the bottle off with his hand in the grand manner and offered her the bottle and she took a delicate nip.
‘Hey, kid. You try some of this stuff, too. It’ll grow hair on your books.’
I took a drink.
Wow!
‘Where did you get this whisky?’ I said.
‘I bought it from a dead Indian.’
The AD Standoff
‘Lead the way,’ Foster said.
He had his arm around Vida. They were like two peas in a pod. I was very pleased that they were getting along so well together. We went back to my room to relax and make our plans for Tijuana.
‘Where have you been all my life?’ Foster said.
‘Not on the reservation,’ Vida said.
‘Wonderful!’ Foster said. ‘Where did you find this girl?’
‘She came along,’ I said.
‘I should be working down here at the library,’ Foster said. ‘Not up at the caves. I got up on the wrong side of the map. Hey, hey, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My God, you’re even prettier than my mother’s picture.’
‘It’s the whisky,’ Vida said. ‘I always look better through amber-coloured fluid.’
‘Damn, it’s the whisky. You’re pulling my 86 proof. I think I’ll take over this library for a while and you kids can go up and dust off those God-damn books and live at the caves. It’s real nice up there. But don’t mention to anyone that you know me. Jesus Christ and old Foster wore out their welcome at the same time. I only survive on my good looks these days.’
The Plan for Tijuana
We went back to my room and we all sat down on the bed together and drank a little whisky and made plans for Tijuana. I usually don’t drink but I figured the present condition of our lives merited a little drink.
‘Well, it’s a little abortion, huh?’ Foster said. ‘You’re sure now?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘We talked it over. That’s what we want.’
Foster looked over at Vida.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’re too immature right now to have a child. It would only confuse us and this confusion would not be good for a child. It’s hard enough being born into this world without having immature and confused parents. Yes, I want the abortion.’
‘O K, then,’ Foster said. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. I know a good doctor: Dr Garcia. He won’t hurt you and there will be no complications. Everything will be just fine.’
‘I trust you,’ she said.
Vida reached over and took my hand.
‘The arrangements are very simple,’ Foster said. ‘You’ll take a plane down there. There’s one that leaves at 8.15 tomorrow morning for San Diego. I’ve got you both round-trip tickets. I called the doctor and he’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be in TJ before noon and the thing will be over in a short while.
‘You can come back in the evening on the plane if you feel up to it, but if you want to stay over in San Diego, I’ve got a reservation for you at the Green Hotel. I know the guy who runs the place. He’s a good guy. You’ll feel a little weak after the abortion, so it’s up to you if you want to stay. It just depends on how you feel, but don’t push it if you feel too woozy, just stay over at the hotel.
‘Sometimes Dr Garcia tries to speculate on the price of the abortion, but I told him you were coming and you only had 200 dollars and there was no more and he said, “OK, Foster, will do.” He doesn’t speak very good English but he’s very kind and very good. He’s a regular doctor. He did me a good turn with that Indian girl last year. Any questions or anything? Damn! you’re a pretty girl.’
He gave Vida a nice hug.
‘I think you’ve probably covered it all,’ I said.
‘Vida?’ he said.
‘No, I can’t think of anything.’
‘What about the library?’ I said.
‘Whatabout the library?’ Foster said.
‘Who’s going to watch it? There has to be somebody here. That’s a big part of this library. Somebody has to be here twenty-four hours a day to receive and welcome books. It’s the very foundation of this library. We can’t close it. It has to remain open.’
‘You mean me?’ Foster said. ‘Oh, no. I’m strictly a caveman. You’ll have to get another boy.’
‘But there has to be somebody here,’ I said, looking hard at him.
‘Oh, no,’ Foster said.
‘But,’ I said.
Vida was awfully amused by the whole thing. I was fully aware that Vida did not share the intensity of my feeling towards the library. I could understand that it was a rather strange calling that I had answered, but it was a thing I had to do.
‘I’m a caveman,’ Foster said.
‘This is our job,’ I said. ‘This is what we were hired to do. We have to take care of this library and the people that need its services.
‘I was meaning to bring that up,’ Foster said. ‘This is a kind of slow-paying operation. I haven’t been paid in two years. I’m supposed to make $295.50 a month.’
‘Foster!’ I said.