‘Are you sure you’re okay to drive?’ We were headed for a car rental agency in the Village.
He shrugged.
‘I could drive,’ I volunteered.
‘You don’t know how to drive,’ Steven snapped.
‘Neither do you.’
‘I’ll drive,’ my father interrupted. ‘I’m the one who knows how to get there.’
He looked longingly over his shoulder for a moment, back toward Brooklyn, pulling in his bottom lip until it vanished.
‘It’s only three days,’ I said in his ear. He nodded quietly, as if this were the vitamin he’d been looking for, as though these few, simple words had made everything better.
Later, my father became talkative. ‘We couldn’t get that fishhook out of Petey’s foot, so we had to take him to the emergency room!’
There was a pause. He swiveled his head around at me, taking his hands off the steering wheel. I realized I was supposed to be paying attention.
‘That’s funny,’ I sputtered.
My father frowned. ‘It’s not funny, Summer. Petey’s dad’s car didn’t go much above forty-five. It took us over an hour to get to the hospital.’
We passed a truck stop. McDonald’s, Arby’s, Dairy Queen. We passed a field of cows and then a field of horses. ‘This is the real Pennsylvania,’ my father yelled, his voice diffused through the open window. His accent had changed between Brooklyn and here, less than a six-hour drive. ‘I bet you don’t remember this, huh Summer?’
‘Not really.’ We passed a red-painted barn. Someone had spray-painted Kill Niggers on the side of it. There was a big drip line from the base of the N to the waist-high grass.
Dear Claire, I composed in my head. Check this out! I could send her a photo of the barn. Perhaps she’d find it-what’s the phrase she always used?-très kitsch.
We passed what I guessed was the equivalent of a 7-Eleven. It was called Unimart, sort of like unibrow. There was a placard out front; faded, plastic interchangeable letters read, LOTTO HERE! MARLBORO $1.29.
‘It’s so funny, being here,’ my father said. ‘I feel like I know every tree personally.’
He put on the rental station wagon’s turn signal, and we pulled down a street paralleling a river. To our right were closedup shops, an empty diner called Mister Donut, a crumbling church with ESUS SAVES on the marquee, a Knights of Columbus.
Beyond an industrial-looking, algae-green bridge was a hill lined with the kinds of trees I used to draw when I was little: long, narrow triangles, with tiny sticks as the trunks.
My father pointed to the hill. ‘We used to pitch our Christmas trees over that.’ He swung his finger toward the steel bridge. ‘And that’s where that movie was shot.’
‘What movie?’
‘I don’t know. The…the movie. The one with…with the ghost in it. I can’t remember the name. Didn’t we go to see it?’
He nodded toward a ramshackle house across the hill. ‘That’s where the Crosses live. We used to sneak over and jump on his trampoline. Once, he came out with a rifle and shot at us.’
‘Did he have any kids?’ I asked.
‘Nope. Hated kids.’
‘Then what was he doing with a trampoline?’
My father paused, then slapped the steering wheel. ‘You know, I have no idea. Maybe he was in the circus?’
Dear Claire. Guess what my dad had for lunch today? Scrapple. Wanna know what it is? Pig-shoulder pudding.
Suddenly, my father pulled over. ‘Stop,’ he said. ‘Come here.’
At first, I thought he was talking to me. But he was gazing at a wet, dazed-looking dog on the riverbank. It wasn’t wearing a collar and had a big piece of fur missing from its side.
Other cars swished past, uninterested. Even here, I worried about them looking. My father turned the car off and stepped out. I shifted, uncomfortable. ‘Dad…’
He held up his hand. ‘I just want to see if I know her.’
‘How could you know her?’
‘All the dogs here, they mate with one another. Chances are I’ll know her.’
Steven, who’d been sleeping against the front passengerside window, rubbed his eyes and stretched. ‘Where are we?’
‘We’re here,’ I whispered. ‘I think.’
Steven looked around. The dead Mister Donut, a gas station that looked like it had weathered a recent dust storm. Two boys rolled out from behind a pick-up truck, carrying sixty-four-ounce cups of soda. They both had spiky blond hair and gapped, yellow teeth.