FINLAND, OUR CAMERA CREW BECAME WITNESS TO THIS TERRIBLE ACCIDENT.
Then it cut to a grainy black-and-white shot of a lion swiping at the bars of its cage. A strongman in black tights strikes his whip at the animal, trying to get it to perform, maybe. He turns and closes the gate to the cage. The camera follows him as he smiles, says something unclear, and flexes his muscles for the camera. He lifts the bar for another cage and leads a magnificent tiger out by its collar. And then, from out of frame, the lion attacks, escaping from its cage somehow, knocking the man on his back. The strongman rolls to his side, catching a meaty claw to his neck. The tiger lunges, hissing and growling, snapping its claws near the lion’s head. The lion snaps back, leaps forward, and sinks its mouth into the tiger’s neck. The tiger turns and catches one great paw into the lion’s throat and then quickly, with one movement, has its enormous jaws around the lion’s neck and begins snapping wildly. The tiger retreats as a gunshot goes off, limps into its cage, and stops moving. From out of frame, two cameramen help the strongman to his feet, and the lion lies there, its black eye blinking, before you can tell that both animals are dead.
“Shit,” I whispered. “That was intense.”
“Yeah it was.”
“It’s just like fucking high school.”
“Nope, it’s the whole fucking world,” Rod corrected.
“Yeah. Shit,” I said. “Listen, I got to use your can.”
“Sure,” he said.
I crept out of his room and went down the hall to the bathroom, shut the door, then double-backed around to the front room. I didn’t know what I was doing. It was just happening as I was doing it. I knelt down as quietly as I could before those hundreds and hundreds of records, looking nervously for the Chet Baker one. I found it, slipped it out of its place, and started to open it. Why? I dunno. I think I was going to try to steal it. Why? I dunno, really. I mean, I could say it was because I wanted to give it to Gretchen, but then again, I dunno. Maybe I was just jealous of his dad and everything, I’m not sure at all. I do know I looked up to be certain his parents weren’t around and there was Rod, standing there, silent, watching me just like that, not saying anything.
“What are you doing?” Rod asked.
I closed my eyes and felt my heart drop like a hammer in my chest.
“I dunno, I’m sorry, man. I was just looking.”
“Why are you doing that?” I looked up again and it seemed like he might start crying. His face was dark and his eyes were shiny.
“I … I’m sorry, Rod.”
“I would have given it to you if you asked.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry. Really.”
“I think you should leave,” he said.
“OK,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
He opened the front door and looked at me. “I thought you were my fucking friend.”
“I am,” I said, and knew how dumb that sounded even as I was saying it.
twenty-seven
At Gretchen’s, what we did sometimes was go through all the rooms in her house, just kind of snooping. It was something we did a lot, I guess. We’d get so bored that we’d go through her sister’s and parents’ rooms, looking for stuff to either laugh at or take. We’d go through her dad’s clothes looking for money, or her sister’s hope chest to find silly shit, like condoms and love letters. We usually started in her parents’ room, lying on the floor, searching under the four-poster bed which was made-up perfectly with pink pillows, the white sheet taut and wrinkle-free on one side, but totally ruffled and unmade where her father slept, which I thought was sad and kinda strange, I guess, how he still only slept on his side of the bed.
“Wow, look at this.” Gretchen pulled out her parents’ photo album from their wedding and smiled. It was opened to a particular page already, a photo of her mom from her wedding day. It was very pretty but it made me feel sad, right away.
“My mom’s a ghost now. But
Then it cut to a grainy black-and-white shot of a lion swiping at the bars of its cage. A strongman in black tights strikes his whip at the animal, trying to get it to perform, maybe. He turns and closes the gate to the cage. The camera follows him as he smiles, says something unclear, and flexes his muscles for the camera. He lifts the bar for another cage and leads a magnificent tiger out by its collar. And then, from out of frame, the lion attacks, escaping from its cage somehow, knocking the man on his back. The strongman rolls to his side, catching a meaty claw to his neck. The tiger lunges, hissing and growling, snapping its claws near the lion’s head. The lion snaps back, leaps forward, and sinks its mouth into the tiger’s neck. The tiger turns and catches one great paw into the lion’s throat and then quickly, with one movement, has its enormous jaws around the lion’s neck and begins snapping wildly. The tiger retreats as a gunshot goes off, limps into its cage, and stops moving. From out of frame, two cameramen help the strongman to his feet, and the lion lies there, its black eye blinking, before you can tell that both animals are dead.
“Shit,” I whispered. “That was intense.”
“Yeah it was.”
“It’s just like fucking high school.”
“Nope, it’s the whole fucking world,” Rod corrected.
“Yeah. Shit,” I said. “Listen, I got to use your can.”
“Sure,” he said.
I crept out of his room and went down the hall to the bathroom, shut the door, then double-backed around to the front room. I didn’t know what I was doing. It was just happening as I was doing it. I knelt down as quietly as I could before those hundreds and hundreds of records, looking nervously for the Chet Baker one. I found it, slipped it out of its place, and started to open it. Why? I dunno. I think I was going to try to steal it. Why? I dunno, really. I mean, I could say it was because I wanted to give it to Gretchen, but then again, I dunno. Maybe I was just jealous of his dad and everything, I’m not sure at all. I do know I looked up to be certain his parents weren’t around and there was Rod, standing there, silent, watching me just like that, not saying anything.
“What are you doing?” Rod asked.
I closed my eyes and felt my heart drop like a hammer in my chest.
“I dunno, I’m sorry, man. I was just looking.”
“Why are you doing that?” I looked up again and it seemed like he might start crying. His face was dark and his eyes were shiny.
“I … I’m sorry, Rod.”
“I would have given it to you if you asked.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry. Really.”
“I think you should leave,” he said.
“OK,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
He opened the front door and looked at me. “I thought you were my fucking friend.”
“I am,” I said, and knew how dumb that sounded even as I was saying it.
twenty-seven
At Gretchen’s, what we did sometimes was go through all the rooms in her house, just kind of snooping. It was something we did a lot, I guess. We’d get so bored that we’d go through her sister’s and parents’ rooms, looking for stuff to either laugh at or take. We’d go through her dad’s clothes looking for money, or her sister’s hope chest to find silly shit, like condoms and love letters. We usually started in her parents’ room, lying on the floor, searching under the four-poster bed which was made-up perfectly with pink pillows, the white sheet taut and wrinkle-free on one side, but totally ruffled and unmade where her father slept, which I thought was sad and kinda strange, I guess, how he still only slept on his side of the bed.
“Wow, look at this.” Gretchen pulled out her parents’ photo album from their wedding and smiled. It was opened to a particular page already, a photo of her mom from her wedding day. It was very pretty but it made me feel sad, right away.
“My mom’s a ghost now. But
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