sk.everythingseventual-第105章
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cktail lounges to support us。 The time she took the day off work to talk to the ADC man； her dressed in her best pants suit； him sitting in our kitchen rocker in a suit of his own； one even a nine…year…old kid like me could tell was a lot better than hers； with a clipboard in his lap and a fat； shiny pen in his fingers。 Her answering the insulting； embarrassing questions he asked with a fixed smile on her mouth； even offering him more coffee； because if he turned in the right report she'd get an extra fifty dollars a month； a lousy fifty bucks。 Lying on her bed after he'd gone； crying； and when I came in to sit beside her she had tried to smile and said ADC didn't stand for Aid to Dependent Children but Awful Damn Crapheads。 I had laughed and then she laughed； too； because you had to laugh； we'd found that out。 When it was just you and your fat chain…smoking Ma against the world； laughing was quite often the only way you could get through without going insane and beating your fists on the walls。 But there was more to it than that； you know。 For people like us； little people who went scurrying through the world like mice in a cartoon； sometimes laughing at the assholes was the only revenge you could ever get。 Her working all those jobs and taking the overtime and taping her ankles when they swelled and putting her tips away in a jar marked ALAN'S COLLEGE FUND…just like one of those dopey rags…to…riches stories； yeah； yeah…and telling me again and again that I had to work hard； other kids could maybe afford to play Freddy Fuckaround at school but I couldn't because she could put away her tips until doomsday cracked and there still wouldn't be enough； in the end it was going to e down to scholarships and loans if I was going to go to college and I had to go to college because it was the only way out for me 。 。 。 and for her。 So I had worked hard； you want to believe I did； because I wasn't blind…I saw how heavy she was； I saw how much she smoked （it was her only private pleasure 。 。 。 her only vice； if you're one of those who must take that view）； and I knew that someday our positions would reverse and I'd be the one taking care of her。 With a college education and a good job； maybe I could do that。 I wanted to do that。 I loved her。 She had a fierce temper and an ugly mouth on her…that day we waited for the Bullet and then I chickened out wasn't the only time she ever yelled at me and then swatted me…but I loved her in spite of it。 Partly even because of it。 I loved her when she hit me as much as when she kissed me。 Do you understand that？ Me either。 And that's all right。 I don't think you can sum up lives or explain families； and we were a family； she and I； the smallest family there is； a shared secret。 If you had asked； I would have said I'd do anything for her。 And now that was exactly what I was being asked to do。 I was being asked to die for her； to die in her place； even though she had lived half her life； probably a lot more。 I had hardly begun mine。
'What say； Al？' George Staub asked。 'Time's wasting。'
'I can't decide something like that；' I said hoarsely。 The moon sailed above the road； swift and brilliant。 'It's not fair to ask me。'
'I know； and believe me； that's what they all say。' Then he lowered his voice。 'But I gotta tell you something…if you don't decide by the time we get back to the first house…lights； I'll have to take you both。' He frowned； then brightened again； as if remembering there was good news as well as bad。 'You could ride together in the back…seat if I took you both； talk over old times； there's that。'
'Ride to where？'
He didn't reply。 Perhaps he didn't know。
The trees blurred by like black ink。 The headlights rushed and the road rolled。 I was twenty…one。 I wasn't a virgin but I'd only been with a girl once and I'd been drunk and couldn't remember much of what it had been like。 There were a thousand places I wanted to go…Los Angeles； Tahiti； maybe Luckenbach； Texas…and a thousand things I wanted to do。 My mother was forty…eight and that was old； goddammit。 Mrs。 McCurdy wouldn't say so but Mrs。 McCurdy was old herself。 My mother had done right by me； worked all those long hours and taken care of me； but had I chosen her life for her？ Asked to be born and then demanded that she live for me？ She was forty…eight。 I was twenty…one。 I had； as they said； my whole life before me。 But was that the way you judged？ How did you decide a thing like this？ How could you decide a thing like this？
The woods bolting by。 The moon looking down like a bright and deadly eye。
'Better hurry up； man；' George Staub said。 'We're running out of wilderness。'
I opened my mouth and tried to speak。 Nothing came out but an arid sigh。
'Here； got just the thing；' he said； and reached behind him。 His shirt pulled up again and I got another look （I could have done without it） at the stitched black line on his belly。 Were there still guts behind that line or just packing soaked in chemicals？ When he brought his hand back； he had a can of beer in it…one of those he'd bought at the state line store on his last ride； presumably。
'I know how it is；' he said。 'Stress gets you dry in the mouth。 Here。'
He handed me the can。 I took it； pulled the ringtab； and drank deeply。 The taste of the beer going down was cold and bitter。 I've never had a beer since。 I just can't drink it。 I can barely stand to watch the mercials on TV。
Ahead of us in the blowing dark； a yellow light glimmered。
'Hurry up； Al…got to speed it up。 That's the first house； right up at the top of this hill。 If you got something to say to me； you better say it now。'
The light disappeared； then came back again； only now it was several lights。 They were windows。 Behind them were ordinary people doing ordinary things…watching TV； feeding the cat； maybe beating off in the bathroom。
I thought of us standing in line at Thrill Village； Jean and Alan Parker； a big woman with dark patches of sweat around the armpits of her sundress； and her little boy。 She hadn't wanted to stand in that line； Staub was right about that 。 。 。 but I had pestered pestered pestered。 He had been right about that； too。 She had swatted me； but she had stood in line with me； too。 She had stood with me in a lot of lines； and I could go over all of it again； all the arguments pro and con； but there was no time。
'Take her；' I said as the lights of the first house swept toward the Mustang。 My voice was hoarse and raw and loud。 'Take her； take my Ma； don't take me。'
I threw the can of beer down on the floor of the car and put my hands up to my face。 He touched me then； touched the front of my shirt； his fingers fumbling； and I thought…with sudden brilliant clarity…that it had all been a test。 I had failed and now he was going to rip my beating heart right out of my chest； like an evil djinn in one of those cruel Arabian fairy…tales。 I screamed。 Then his fingers let go…it was as if he'd changed his mind at the last second…and he reached past me。 For one moment my nose and lungs were so full of his deathly smell that I felt positive I was dead myself。 Then there was the click of the door opening and cold fresh air came streaming in； washing the death…smell away。
'Pleasant dreams； Al；' he grunted in my ear and then pushed。 I went rolling out into the windy October darkness with my eyes closed and my hands raised and my body tensed for the bone…breaking smashdown。 I might have been screaming； I don't remember for sure。
The smashdown didn't e and after an endless moment I realized I was already down…I could feel the ground under me。 I opened my eyes； then squeezed them shut almost at once。 The glare of the moon was blinding。 It sent a bolt of pain through my head； one that settled not behind my eyes； where you usually feel pain after staring into an unexpectedly bright light； but in the back； way down low just above the nape of my neck。 I became aware that my legs and bottom were cold and wet。 I didn't care。 I was on the ground； and that was all I cared about。
I pushed up on my elbows and opened my eyes again； more cautiously this time。 I think I already knew where I was； and one look around was enough to confirm it： lying on m
