Copyright © 2000, 2011 by Barry Gifford
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Line drawings by Barry Gifford
Portions of this book appeared, in a different form, in the magazine Speak, San Francisco, edited by Dan Rolleri.
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10 9876543 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.
ISBN: 978-1-61145-613-4
Contents
Cobratown
Chinese Down the Amazon
Bandages
Soul Talk
Skylark
Flamingos
Wyoming
Saving the Planet
A Nice Day on the Ocean
Perfect Spanish
Seconds
Roy’s World
Nomads
Ducks on the Pond
Sound of the River
Red Highway
Lucky
K.C. So Far (Seconds/Alternate Take)
Concertina Locomotion
Imagine
The Geography of Heaven
Man and Fate
Where Osceola Lives
The Crime of Pass Christian
Cool Breeze
Night Owl
Islamorada
On the Arm
Look Out Below
The Up and Up
Black Space
Ball Lightning
Fear and Desire
God’s Tornado
Cobratown
WE’RE REALLY FINE when we’re together, aren’t we? I mean, when it’s just the two of us.”
“Uh-huh. How long till we get to the reptile farm?”
“Oh, less than an hour, I think,”
“Will they have a giant king cobra, like on the sign?”
“I’m sure they will, sweetheart/’
“I hope it’s not asleep when we get there. Mom, do cobras sleep?”
“Of course, snakes have to sleep just like people. At least I think they do.”
“Do they think?”
“Who, baby?”
“Snakes. Do they have a brain?”
“Yes. They think about food, mostly. What they’re going to eat next in order to survive.”
“They only think about eating?”
“That’s the main thing. And finding a warm, safe place to sleep.”
“Some snakes live in trees, on the branches. That can’t be so safe. Birds can get them.”
“They wait on the limbs for prey, some smaller creature to come along and the snake can snatch it up, or drop on it and wrap itself around and squeeze it to death or until it passes out from not having enough air to breathe. Then the snake crushes it and devours it.”
“You’re a good driver, aren’t you. Mom? You like to drive.”
“I’m a very good driver, Roy. I like to drive when we go on long trips together.”
“How far is it from Key West to Mississippi?”
“Well, to Jackson, where we’re going, it’s a pretty long way. Several hundred miles. We go north through Florida, then across Alabama to Mississippi and up to Jackson, which is about in the middle of the state.”
“Will Dad be there?”
“No, honey. Your dad is in Chicago. At least I think he is. He could be away somewhere on business.”
“Who are we going to see in Mississippi?”
“A good friend of Mommy’s. A man named Bert.”
“Why is Bert in Mississippi?”
“That’s where he lives, baby. He owns a hotel in Jackson.”
“What’s the name of the hotel?”
“The Prince Rupert. “
“Is it like the Casa Azul?”
“I think Bert’s hotel is bigger.”
“You’ve never seen it?”
“No, only a photo of it on a postcard that Bert sent.”
“How old is Bert?”.
“I’m not sure. I guess about forty.”
“How old is Dad?”
“Forty-three. He’ll be forty-four next month, on the tenth of April”
“Will he invite me to his birthday party?”
“I don’t know if your dad will have a birthday party, Roy, but I’m sure he would invite you if he did.”
“Some dinosaurs had two brains, Mom, do you know that?”
“Two brains?”
“Yeah, there’s a picture in my dinosaur book that Dad sent me that shows how the really big ones had a regular-size brain in their head and a small one in their tail The really big ones. It’s because it was so far from their head to their tail there was too much for only one brain to think about, so God gave them two.”
“Who told you God gave dinosaurs two brains?”
“Nanny.”
“Your grandmother doesn’t know anything about dinosaurs,”
“What about Bert?”
“What about him?”
“Do you think he knows about dinosaurs?”
“You’ll have to ask him, baby. I don’t really know what Bert knows about.”
“You said he was your friend.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Why don’t I know him?”
“He’s kind of a new friend. That’s why I’m taking you to Jackson, to meet Bert, so he can be your friend, too.”
“Is Bert a friend of Dad’s?”
“No baby. Dad doesn’t know Bert.”
“How far now to the reptile farm?”
“We’re pretty close. The last sign said twenty-six miles. I can’t go too fast on this road,”
“I like this car, Mom. I like that it’s blue and white, like the sky, except now there’s dark clouds.”
“It’s called a Holiday.”
“We’re on a holiday now, right?”
“Yes, Roy, it’s a kind of holiday. Just taking a little trip, the two of us.”
“We’re pals, huh?”
“We sure are, baby. You’re my best pah”
“Better than Bert?”
“Yes, darling, better than anyone else. You’ll always be my favorite boy.”
“Look, Mom! We must be really close now.”
“The sign said, “Ten minutes to Cobratown.’“
“If it rains hard, will the snakes stay inside?”
“It’s only raining a little, Roy. They’ll be out. They’ll all be out, baby, don’t worry. There’ll be cobras crawling all over Cobratown, just for us. You’ll see.”
Chinese Down the Amazon
WHAT DO YOU THINK, BABY? Does this place look all right to you?”
“Is it
safe?”
“Safe as any motel room in Alabama can be, I guess. At least it looks clean.”
“And it doesn’t stink of old cigarettes, like the last one.”
“We can stay here.”
“I’m tired, Mom.”
“Take off your shoes and lie down, baby. PU go out and bring back something for dinner. PU bet there’s a Chinese restaurant in this town. There’s Chinese everywhere, Roy, you know that? Even down the Amazon it said in the National Geographic. I can get some egg rolls and pork chow mein and egg foo yung. What do you think, baby? Would you like some chow mein and egg foo yung? I’ll just make a quick stop in the bathroom first. Out in a jiffy.”
“Could I get a Coca-Cola?”
“Oh! Oh, Christ! This is disgusting! Come on, baby, we’re moving.”
“What happened, Mom?”
“Just filth! The bathroom is crazy with cockroaches! Even the toilet’s filled with bugs!”
“I don’t see any bugs on the bed.”
“Those kind come out later, when the light’s off. Get off of there! The beds are probably infested, too. Let’s go!”
“I’ve got to put on my shoes.”
“You can do it in the car. Come on!”
“Mom?”
“Yes, Roy?”
“Could I get a hamburger instead of Chinese?”
Bandages
I WAS VERY SHY WHEN I WAS A GIRL, so shy it was painful. When I had to leave my room at school, to go to class, I often became physically ill. I got sick at the thought of having to see people, or their having to see me, to talk to them. I think this is why I had my skin problems, my eczema. It came from nerves. Being sick allowed me to stay by myself, wrapped up in bandages. People left me alone.”
“But weren’t you lonely?”
“Not really. I liked to read and listen to the radio and dream. I didn’t have to be asleep to really dream, to go into another world where I wasn’t afraid of meeting people, of having them look at me and judge me. I really felt better, safe, inside those bandages. They were my shield, I suppose, my protection.”
“Prince Valiant has a shield.”
“I like this song, Roy. Listen, I’ll turn it up: Dean Martin singing ‘Ain’t Love a Kick in the Head.’ He works hard to sound so casual, so relaxed. I always had the feeling Dean Martin was really very shy, like me. That he affected this style of not seeming to care, to be so cool, in order to cover up his real feelings. That’s his shield.”
“Are we still in Indiana?”
“Yes, baby. We’ll be in Indianapolis soon. Well stay there tonight.”
“Indiana goes on a long time.”
“It seems that way sometimes. Look out the window. Maybe you’ll see a farmer.”
“Mom, are there still Indians in Indiana?”
“I don’t think so, baby. They all moved away.”
“Then why is it still called Indiana, if there aren’t any Indians left?”
“Just because they were here before. There were Indians, many different tribes, all over the country.”
“The Indians rode horses. They didn’t have cars.”
“Some of them had cars after.”
“After what?”
“After people came from Europe.”
“They brought cars from Europe?”
“Yes, but they made them here, too. That’s where the Indians got them, the same as everybody else.”
“There aren’t so many horses here as in Florida.”
“Probably not.”
“Mom?”
“Yes, Roy?”
“You still wrap yourself up with bandages sometimes.”
“When I have an attack of eczema, to cover the ointment I put on the sores, so I don’t get everything greasy.”
“You don’t want anyone to see the sores?”
“One time, not long after I married your father, I had such a bad attack that my skin turned red and black, and I had to stay in the hospital for a month. The sores got so bad they bled. The skin on my arms and hands and face stank under the bandages. I couldn’t wash and I smelled terrible. When the nurses unwrapped the bandages to sponge me off, the odor made me want to vomit.
“One day your dad’s brother, Uncle Bruno, was there when the nurses took off the bandages. He didn’t believe I was really sick. I don’t know why, but he wanted to see for himself. It was costing your dad a lot of money for doctors to take care of me and to keep me in a private hospital. When they removed my bandages, Bruno was horrified by the sight of my skin. He couldn’t stand the smell or to look at me, and he ran out of the room. I guess he was worried about all the money your father was spending on me. He probably thought I was pretending to be so sick. After that, he said to your dad, ‘Kitty used to be so beautiful. What happened to her?’“
“But you are beautiful, Mom.”
“I wasn’t then, baby, not when I was so sick. I looked pretty bad. But Bruno knew I wasn’t faking. I screamed when the nurse peeled off the bandages, my skin stuck to them. Bruno heard me. He wanted your dad to get rid of me, I was too much trouble,”
“Did Dad want to get rid of you?”
“No, baby, he didn’t. We separated for other reasons.”
“Was I a reason?”
“No, sweetheart, of course you weren’t. Your father loves you more than anything, just like I do. You mustn’t ever think that. The trouble was just between your dad and me, it had nothing to do with you. Really, you’re the most precious thing to both of us.”
“When will we get to Chicago?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“Where are we going to stay? At Nanny’s house?”
“No, baby, we’ll stay at the hotel, the same place as before. Remember how you like the chocolate sundaes they make in the restaurant there?”
“Uh-huh. Can we sit in the big booth by the window when we have breakfast?”
“Sure, baby.”
“Can I have a chocolate sundae for breakfast?”
“One time you can, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Mom?”
“Huh?”
“Do i have nerves?”
“What do you mean, baby? Everyone has nerves.”
“I mean, will I ever have to be wrapped up in bandages because of my nerves?”
“No, Roy, you won’t. You’re not nervous like I was, like I sometimes get now only not so bad as when I was younger. It’ll never happen to you, never. Don’t worry.”
“I love you, Mom. I hope you never have sores and have to get wrapped up again.”
“I hope so, too, baby. And remember, I love you more than anything.”
Soul Folk
MOM, WHEN BIRDS DIE what happens to their souls?”
“What made you think of that, Roy?”
“I was watching a couple of crows fly by.”
“You think birds have souls?”
“That’s what Nanny says,”
“What do you think the soul is, baby?”
“Something inside a person.”
“Where inside?”
“Around the middle.”
“You mean by the heart?”
“I don’t know. Someplace deep. Can a doctor see it on an X ray?”
“No, baby, nobody can see it. Sometimes you can feel your soul yourself. It’s just a feeling. Not everybody has one.”
“Some people don’t have a soul?”
“I don’t know, Roy, but there are more than a few I’ll bet have never been in touch with theirs. Or who’d recognize it if it glowed in the dark.”
“Can you see your soul in the dark if you take off all your clothes and look in the mirror?”
“Only if your eyes are closed.”
“Mom, that doesn’t make sense.”
“I hate to tell you this, baby, but the older you get and the more you figure things should make sense, they more than sometimes don’t.”
“Your soul flies away like a crow when you die and hides in
a cloud. When it rains that means the clouds are full of souls and some of ‘em are squeezed out. Rain is the dead souls there’s no more room for in heaven.”
“Did Nanny tell you this Roy?”
“No, it’s just something I thought.”
“Baby, there’s no way I’ll ever think about rain the same way again.”
Skylark
YOU KNOW, sometimes you look just like your father, only much more beautiful, of course.”
“You don’t think Dad is beautiful?”
“No, your father isn’t so beautiful, but he’s a real man.”
“And Fm a real boy, like Pinocchio wanted to be.”
“Yes, baby, you’re a real boy.”
“Why isn’t Dad with us so much anymore?”
“He’s very busy, Roy, you know that. His business takes up most of his time.”
“When will I see him again?”
“We’ll go to Havana in two weeks and meet him there. You like the hotel where his apartment is, remember? The Nacional?”
“Will the little man with the curly white dog be there?”
“Little man? Oh, Mr, Lipsky. I don’t know, baby Remember the last time we saw him? In Miami, the day after the big hurricane.”
“We were walking down the middle of the street that looked like it was covered with diamonds, and Mr. Lipsky was carrying his dog.”
“The hurricane had blown out most of the windows of the big hotels, and Collins Avenue was paved with chunks of glass.”
“Mr. Lipsky kissed you. I remember he had to stand on his toes. Then he gave me a piece of candy.”
“He was carrying his tiny dog because he didn’t want him to cut his paws on the broken glass. Mr. Lip-sky said the dog was used to taking a walk every morning at that time and he didn’t want to disappoint him.”
“Mr. Lipsky talks funny.”
“What do you mean, he talks funny?”
“He sings.”
“Sings?”
“Like he’s singing a little song when he says something to you.”
“Sure, baby, I know what you mean. Mr. Lipsky’s a little odd, but he’s been a good friend to your dad and us.”
“Does Mr. Lipsky have a wife?”
“I think so, but I’ve never met her.”
“I hope when I grow up I won’t be as little as him.”
Wyoming Page 1
