suspended in the dark.
In the corroded dresser mirror I saw my pupils were blown. No iris at all. I said, “Let’s go downstairs.”
Chapter 18
E CAME rolling into Dentsville in the middle of the afternoon. I was starving. The father was afraid I’d get sick again so he wouldn’t let me eat anything. All I got to drink were the half-melted ice cubes from the bottom of his spiked pop. It had been a long ride. I slept through a lot of it but the rest of the time I couldn’t really tell you what I did. Stared out the window, mostly. The father didn’t want me to talk to anyone and he said he wasn’t going to talk to anyone either. “L.L.S.S., Clyde. Loose Lips Sink Ships.” Would that have been so bad?
I kept my part of the deal. I didn’t say a word. The father had some long pulls off of a new bottle of Old Skull Popper and then got a fat lady to stand in the aisle and try to dance with him. The back of the bus was the party section. A lot of smoking and booze fumes. The father was the star like he was always the star in a group of drinking people. The star, the mayor, the president. Even I could not help admiring him in my own mongolian idiot way.
People in the front of the bus turned irritated heads toward us but the driver was on our side. He had a face like a leather-covered skull and while he and the father were sneaking fortifying glugs during rest stops the driver said this run was his last. After that, he just did not give a damn. Dentsville was on one end of the map and his wife was on the other. And he wanted to keep it that way. He told the father he was chucking it all. Retirement, pension, free bus rides for life, all of it down the hole.
“We must be married to the same woman,” said the father.
“Cheers,” said the driver. “Hell.”
In the Dentsville bus station it smelled nose-burningly strong of disinfectant and people, too many people. The waiting chairs were the dip-plastic kind, orange and blue alternating and there was someone in every seat except one that had creeping gunk on it. The lights were fluorescent and flickering and made the people look greenish. The cafe was separate, in a different room altogether, and through the glass I could see that it was packed too.
“OK, Clyde, listen up here.” The father stowed our bags. He looked bad and so did I. The swelling on my face was down but the bruises were turning greenish-black. It was dramatic. The father said, “Don’t clean up. The worse you look the better for where we’re going.”
I said, “Where?”
He said, “I ever mention your uncle Lemuel to you?”
I shook my head.
He said, “That’s because he’s a worthless piece of shit. And he’s not your uncle either.”
We were standing on the sidewalk. The father was tucking a fresh pack of cigs into his pocket and looking up and down the street, trying to get a fix on where he was. The sky was gray and the air was cool and had an edge to it that I couldn’t identify. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was distinctive and it got me curious.
Across the street was a bar called The Golden Egg. The father’s eyes lit up when he saw it. “This ain’t like back home, Clyde. I can’t bring you with me. I need a couple of hours.” He slipped his watch off. Its face was scuffed and it had a pinching silver band. There was old blood dried in the cracks and crevices. “Here. You come back at five. Five on the dot, got it? Say it back to me in Navy. What time are you going to be back here?”
“Seventeen hundred hours,” I said.
He pulled ten dollars out of his wallet. “Don’t go wasting this on that shit you bought last time. Now go. L.L.S.S. Navy all the way.”
I headed down the street and then turned to see him slip through the black-glass door of the Golden Egg.
I decided my direction by that cool-air smell, fresh and weirdish and coming strong from down the street. I headed into the downtown of Dentsville.
It wasn’t such a happy city. People were mainly
In the corroded dresser mirror I saw my pupils were blown. No iris at all. I said, “Let’s go downstairs.”
Chapter 18
E CAME rolling into Dentsville in the middle of the afternoon. I was starving. The father was afraid I’d get sick again so he wouldn’t let me eat anything. All I got to drink were the half-melted ice cubes from the bottom of his spiked pop. It had been a long ride. I slept through a lot of it but the rest of the time I couldn’t really tell you what I did. Stared out the window, mostly. The father didn’t want me to talk to anyone and he said he wasn’t going to talk to anyone either. “L.L.S.S., Clyde. Loose Lips Sink Ships.” Would that have been so bad?
I kept my part of the deal. I didn’t say a word. The father had some long pulls off of a new bottle of Old Skull Popper and then got a fat lady to stand in the aisle and try to dance with him. The back of the bus was the party section. A lot of smoking and booze fumes. The father was the star like he was always the star in a group of drinking people. The star, the mayor, the president. Even I could not help admiring him in my own mongolian idiot way.
People in the front of the bus turned irritated heads toward us but the driver was on our side. He had a face like a leather-covered skull and while he and the father were sneaking fortifying glugs during rest stops the driver said this run was his last. After that, he just did not give a damn. Dentsville was on one end of the map and his wife was on the other. And he wanted to keep it that way. He told the father he was chucking it all. Retirement, pension, free bus rides for life, all of it down the hole.
“We must be married to the same woman,” said the father.
“Cheers,” said the driver. “Hell.”
In the Dentsville bus station it smelled nose-burningly strong of disinfectant and people, too many people. The waiting chairs were the dip-plastic kind, orange and blue alternating and there was someone in every seat except one that had creeping gunk on it. The lights were fluorescent and flickering and made the people look greenish. The cafe was separate, in a different room altogether, and through the glass I could see that it was packed too.
“OK, Clyde, listen up here.” The father stowed our bags. He looked bad and so did I. The swelling on my face was down but the bruises were turning greenish-black. It was dramatic. The father said, “Don’t clean up. The worse you look the better for where we’re going.”
I said, “Where?”
He said, “I ever mention your uncle Lemuel to you?”
I shook my head.
He said, “That’s because he’s a worthless piece of shit. And he’s not your uncle either.”
We were standing on the sidewalk. The father was tucking a fresh pack of cigs into his pocket and looking up and down the street, trying to get a fix on where he was. The sky was gray and the air was cool and had an edge to it that I couldn’t identify. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was distinctive and it got me curious.
Across the street was a bar called The Golden Egg. The father’s eyes lit up when he saw it. “This ain’t like back home, Clyde. I can’t bring you with me. I need a couple of hours.” He slipped his watch off. Its face was scuffed and it had a pinching silver band. There was old blood dried in the cracks and crevices. “Here. You come back at five. Five on the dot, got it? Say it back to me in Navy. What time are you going to be back here?”
“Seventeen hundred hours,” I said.
He pulled ten dollars out of his wallet. “Don’t go wasting this on that shit you bought last time. Now go. L.L.S.S. Navy all the way.”
I headed down the street and then turned to see him slip through the black-glass door of the Golden Egg.
I decided my direction by that cool-air smell, fresh and weirdish and coming strong from down the street. I headed into the downtown of Dentsville.
It wasn’t such a happy city. People were mainly
Similar Books
