‘ “I don’t know where your mother is and frankly, to quote Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind, ‘I don’t give a damn’.”
‘ “Call my mother Clark Gable!” she said, and then she tried to slap me. Well, that was quite enough out of her, so I grabbed her hand in mid-flight and spun her around and gave her a big shove out the door. She went flying out that door like a garbage can on the wing.
‘ “Let my mother go free!” she yelled. “My mother! My Mother!”
‘I started to close the door. It was getting kind of dreamlike about this time. I didn’t know whether to wake up or slug the bitch.
‘She made a threatening motion towards the glass, so I went outside and escorted her down the stairs. We had a little struggle along the way, but I laid a little muscle on her arm and she cooled it and at the same time I gentlemanly offered to break her chicken neck if she didn’t take out down the street as fast as her clothes-hanger legs would take her.
‘The last I saw of her she was yelling, “It isn’t right that I should end up like this, doing these crazy things that I do, feeling the way I do, saying these things,” and she was tearing pages out of the book and throwing them over her head like a bride at a wedding reception.’
‘Like a bride at a wedding?’ Vida said.
‘The flowers,’ Foster said.
‘Oh, I didn’t understand,’ she said.
‘I don’t understand either,’ Foster said. ‘I went down and picked up some of the pages to see what kind of book they came from, but the pages didn’t have any writing on them. They were blank like snow.’
‘That’s how it goes here sometimes,’ I said. ‘We get some disturbed authors, but most of the time it’s quiet. All you have to do is be patient with them and write down the author of the book, its title and a little description in the Library Contents Ledger, and let them put the book any place they want in the library.’
‘That’s easy enough with this one,’ Foster said.
I started to say something—
‘The description,’ Foster said.
I started to say something—
‘Blank like snow,’ Foster said.
The Van
‘I’ll sleep in my van,’ Foster said.
‘No, there’s room in here for you,’ I said.
‘Please stay,’ Vida said.
‘No, no,’ Foster said. ‘I’m more comfortable in my van. I always sleep there. I got a little mattress and a sleeping bag it makes me cosy as a bug in a rug.
‘No, it’s already settled. It’s the van for old Foster. You kids get a good night’s sleep because you have to leave early on the plane. I’ll take you down to the airfield.’
‘No, you can’t do that,’ I said. ‘We’ll have to take the bus because you have to stay here and watch the library. Remember? It has to remain open all the time we’re gone. You’ll have to stay until we get back.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Foster said. ‘After that experience I had a little while ago, I don’t know. You couldn’t get somebody to come in from one of those temporary employment agencies to handle it, a Kelly Girl or something like that, huh? Hell, I’d pay for it out of my own pocket. They can take care of the library while I go down to North Beach and take in a few topless shows while I’m here.’
‘No, Foster,’ I said. ‘We can’t trust this library to just anyone. You’ll have to stay here while we’re gone. We’re not going to be gone long.’
‘Humour him, Foster,’ Vida said.
‘OK. I wonder what the next nut will be about who brings a book in.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘That was an exception. Things will run smoothly while we’re gone.’
‘I’ll bet.’
Foster got ready to go outside. ‘Here, have another drink of whisky,’ Foster said. ‘I’m going to take the bottle with me.’
‘When does the plane leave?’ Vida said.
‘8.15,’ Foster said. ‘Our pal here can’t drive, so I guess you’ll have to take the bus because the Library Kid here wants me to stay and tend his garden of nuts.’
‘I can drive,’ Vida said, looking smoothly-beautiful and young.
‘Can you drive a van?’ Foster said.
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘I used to drive trucks and pick-ups one summer when I was on a ranch in Montana. I’ve always been able to drive anything that’s got four wheels, sports cars, anything. I even drove a school bus once, taking some kids on a picnic.’
‘A van’s different,’ Foster said.
‘I’ve driven a horse van,’ Vida said.
‘This isn’t a horse van,’ Foster said, now somewhat outraged. ‘There’s never been a horse in my van!’
‘Foster,’ Vida said. ‘Don’t get mad, dear. I was just telling you that I can drive it. I can drive anything. I’ve never been in an accident. I’m a good driver. That’s all. You have a beautiful van.’
‘It’s a good one,’ Foster said, now placated. ‘Well, I guess I don’t see any harm in it and it would get you out there a lost faster than the bus and you could get back here faster. It would be a lot smoother ride. Buses are horrible, and you can park it right out there at the airfield. I guess I won’t need the van while I’m working at this God-damn madhouse. Sure, you can take it, but drive carefully. There’s only one van like that in the whole world and she’s mine and I love her.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Vida said. ‘I’ll love it, too.’
‘Good deal,’ Foster said. ‘Well, I guess I’d better go out and get to bed. Any more whisky here?’
‘No, I think we’ve had enough,’ I said.
‘OK.’
‘Do you want us to wake you?’ Vida said.
‘No, I’ll be up,’ Foster said. ‘I can get up when I want to, down to the minute. I’ve got an alarm clock in my head. It always gets me up. Oh, I almost: forgot to tell you something. Don’t eat anything for breakfast tomorrow. It’s against the rules?’
Johnny Cash
After Foster left to go out and spend the night in his van, we started getting ready for tomorrow. We wouldn’t have much time in the morning when we woke up.
Vida had enough clothes there at the library, so she wouldn’t have to go home. Even though she only lived a block from the library, I of course had never been there. Sometimes in the past I had been curious about her place and she told me about it.
‘It’s very simple,’ she told me. ‘I don’t have much. All I have is a few books on a shelf, a white rug, a little marble table on the floor, and some records for my stereo: Beatles, Bach, Rolling Stones, Byrds, Vivaldi, Wanda Landowska, Johnny Cash. I’m not a beatnik. It’s just that I always considered my body to be more possessions than I ever needed and so everything else had to be simple.’
She packed a few clothes for us in an old KLM bag and our toothbrushes and my razor in case we had to stay overnight in San Diego.
‘I’ve never had an abortion before,’ Vida said. ‘I hope we don’t have to stay overnight in San Diego. I was there once and I didn’t like it. There are too many unlaid sailors there and everything is either stone stark or neon cheap. It’s not a good town.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said. ‘We’ll just play it by ear, and if everything’s all right, we’ll come back tomorrow evening.’
‘That sounds reasonable,’ Vida said, finishing with our simple packing.
‘Well, let’s have a kiss, honey, and go to bed. We need some sleep,’ I said. ‘We’re both tired and we have to get up early in the morning.’
‘I’ll have to take a bath and a douche,’ Vida said. ‘And put a little dab of perfume behind my ears.’