? ? ?
The next day back at my apartment, I still had the rash. There was nothing I could do about it before my date that night with Terri. I lay on my bed and reached down to the floor and picked little crumbs and hairs out of the carpet. My stomach ached. I hadn’t moved my bowels in days. I drank a gallon of salt water and flipped on the radio. I listened to some hip-hop songs. I liked hip-hop songs because they stirred up my spirit without messing with my mind. Forty minutes later, I moved my bowels. If I ever write a book, it will be filled with tricks and tips for men. For example, if your face is puffy, fill your mouth with coffee grounds. If you have a weak jaw, grow a beard. If you can’t grow a beard, wear colors lighter than your skin tone. If you want something and can’t have it, want something else. Want what you deserve. You’ll probably get it. Above all, control yourself. Some days, to keep myself from eating, I’d hit my head against a wall or sock myself in the stomach. Sometimes I hyperventilated or strangled myself a little with a towel. I used a permanent marker to draw dotted lines around the bulges of fat around my sides, my thighs. I did calisthenics on the kitchen floor. Instead of shaving cream, I used moisturizer. Instead of soap, two-in-one shampoo plus conditioner.
Then the phone rang.
“I’m writing my will,” said my uncle. “I’m leaving everything to you, including the television,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said. “Think I could get two hundred bucks in advance?”
“On one condition,” he said. “I want my ashes sprinkled in outer space. I saw a commercial once. I think it costs more than it’s worth, but I’d feel better knowing for sure nothing bad will happen to me after I’m dead. You might have to sell some of the furniture, and the TV.”
“That’s a lot to ask,” I said. “Would you settle for a mountaintop by the beach?”
“I’d have to see the place first,” he said after a long pause.
“If we could set up a meeting for this afternoon, I’d prefer it.”
“You got a date tonight?” he asked excitedly. “Who with?”
“Pick you up in an hour,” I said.
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I had a really good feeling about Terri. I was thinking she might be the one. When I imagined her, I pictured an Indian with long braids and a feather tied to her forehead. I pictured her in a tepee, wearing a scrap of deerskin. I pictured her naked, watching TV in my uncle’s recliner and yawning. I pictured her using the toilet, reading an old book about spirituality. Maybe we could go to a casino together. Maybe we could find an all-you-can-eat buffet. She said she had money, after all.
“Do you have cash?” I yelled at my uncle from inside the car as he wobbled out of the house.
“You call this mowing the lawn?” he cried, waving his cane at the grass.
“Did you bring cash?” I needed to know. “Did you?”
“Yes,” said my uncle, zipping up his Windbreaker and patting down where the colostomy bag fit. He knocked on the car window with the top of his cane.
“Let me see the money,” I said.
He pulled out his wallet and fanned the twenty-dollar bills.
I unlocked his door.
? ? ?
When we got to the foot of the mountain, my uncle shook his head. “I don’t like it here,” he said. “Too much sunshine. Where are we, anyway? What kind of a place is this?”
“Malibu,” I said.
The parking lot was nearly empty, and there were picnic tables and a carved wooden sign and a trail that led into a valley of small trees. My uncle craned his neck and squinted out the window up at the top of the mountain.
“There must be animals up there,” he said. “Mountain lions, coyotes. Look at all those birds!” He looked around nervously, fumbling his hands in his lap. “And there’s dirt everywhere.”
“You have a point,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He crossed his arms and shook his head again. “I don’t want animals pissing all over my ashes.”
“I’ll spray poison on your ashes, if you want,” I said. “I promise.”
“You go up there and check it out,” he said. “I’m too old. I’m tired. I’ll stay in the car. If you can find a place in the shade, with no animals, I guess we’ve got a deal.”
And so I got out and started walking. But I wasn’t about to walk the whole way up the mountain. I found a flat patch of grass between the trees and did some sit-ups and lunges and lay back down, and I thought of Terri. I pictured her posing nude in the desert—quiet, still, her long slippery black hair spilling across her perfect breasts. When I kissed her, her mouth was like strawberry ice cream. “You’re so handsome,” she’d say to me. “You’re so fit.” Life was wonderful, I thought, walking toward a rock jutting out from the hillside. I could see the ocean and the hills and the highway. It seemed like a fine spot to spend all of eternity. The place was full of chipmunks.
“Pretty good,” I told my uncle when I got back to the car. “Pay up.”
When I looked at his face, it was gray and drawn. “I was just thinking,” he began. His voice was choked and high, and I could hear the phlegm in his throat clicking. “How many more times will I see you? A few dozen?” He seemed to be having trouble breathing. I slapped his back.
“Are you having a heart attack?” I asked him. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“Take me home,” he said squeakily. He took out his wallet and handed me the cash.
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On the drive to Lone Pine to meet Terri that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about my uncle. When I’d dropped him off at his house, he hadn’t invited me in or asked about my date or said anything at all. He’d just gotten out of the car and stood on the sidewalk, leaning on his cane and staring at the lawn. It was true that I hadn’t mowed it properly. There were long, triangular patches that I’d missed, and I’d left the lawn mower sitting out by the driveway instead of wheeling it back to the garage. But what did he expect for twenty dollars? How could he be upset with me after everything I’d done for him?
? ? ?
“You made it,” said Terri, standing out on the porch.