“I want you to lay down on the seat now and not look up till I come back.”
“Pops, no. I’m not going to do that.”
“Goddamn it, son. One last thing, that’s all I’m asking of you.”
“Who was driving the truck?”
“Shelley.”
“She’s dead?”
He nodded.
“What about Donnie?”
“Whyn’t you cut your lights, all right? Then wait here till I get back. Is that too much to ask?”
“Tell me why, Pops.”
“Damn it, Russell. Do you love your children?”
“You know I do.”
“You want to be able to look at their faces and not see anything except those beautiful smiles? Not see all the shit that’s taking up all the space in your memory right now? Do you want that or not?”
“Of course I want that.”
“Then cut your lights, son.”
So I did.
Pops reached in and patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back. You lay down now and sit tight.”
I leaned down on the seat with my face to the beat-up old leather. It was still warm from where Pops had been sitting. I laid there tense and waiting for a gunshot, but all I heard was the rain on the roof and hood.
Then his footsteps crunching back over the gravel. And then the side door popping open. “Sit up and start driving,” he said.
He climbs in breathing hard, and I can see him wincing when he twists around to pull the door shut.
“Where’s the revolver?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Pops, you can’t leave it there.”
“It’s unregistered, son. Now get us the hell out of here.”
On our way back through town, about ten minutes from his apartment, he had me pull to the curb about a block from a 7-Eleven. “I’ll walk home from here,” he said.
“It’s still raining pretty good.”
“I get a hot chocolate and a Slim Jim here every night. One for me and one for Margie at the front desk. Rain or no rain, it makes no difference to me.”
“Yeah but at close to midnight? Without a hat or an umbrella or anything?”
“Anytime between ten and four. Old men don’t sleep much. Don’t pay much attention to the weather either. I expect you’ll find that out yourself someday.”
He reached for the door handle then, but I reached out too and put my hand on his arm. “Why were you walking like that?” I said.
“Like what?”
“Back at the wreck. And even before it. Like you’re hurt or something.”
“I don’t know, Rusty. Arthritis, sciatica, Parkinson’s—take your pick.”
“Yeah but you didn’t walk like that till tonight. It’s even worse than when we left the plant.”
“I’m getting older every minute—what can I say?”
“Donnie was still alive, wasn’t he? What did you have to do?”
He looked up through the blurry windshield awhile, just sat there staring at the darkness and the watery neon lights. The rain kept drumming down and I realized suddenly how much I liked the sound of it. How grateful I was for the sound itself and the coolness of the air and the fact that Pops and I were sitting there together listening to it.
And I couldn’t help myself, Spence, but I started crying. And I started shaking. And I kind of collapsed up against the steering wheel and felt these rolling bubbles of pain coming up from my chest and out with every sob.
This went on for maybe thirty seconds or so with Pops not saying a word. Then he leaned toward me and pulled me away from the steering wheel. He clamped my cheeks in those thick, rough hands of his. And he put his face close to mine.
“Cindy,” he said.
“Dani,” he said.
“Emma,” he said. “And one more on the way.” Then he looked at me and asked, “You need to hear those names again?”
“No, sir,” I said. “I don’t.”
He gave me a little pat on the cheek and smiled at me. “Just go on about your business like nothing’s happened,” he told me. “We’ll talk after all this blows over.” Then he climbed out and walked his crooked walk straight up the sidewalk.
I let him get inside the store before I drove forward again. I drove real slow, barely moving, and watched him give a little wave to the guy behind the counter. Watched him cross over to the hot chocolate machine and put a cup under the spout. Watched the guy behind the counter talking what looked like a blue streak, and Pops standing there nodding and smiling with his back to him, watching his cup fill up to the brim.
Back home a little while later, I parked in the garage and used the remote to put the door down behind me. What I wanted was to just sit there awhile by myself. My clothes were soaked and I was shivering again despite having the heater on. But I knew that if I stayed in the garage too long, and if Cindy had heard me pulling in, she’d be out to check on me. So I grabbed up my wet socks and tiptoed inside as quiet as I could. In the kitchen I wrung my socks out over the sink, then went to the girls’ bathroom, stripped down naked and toweled off. I stuffed my wet clothes in the girls’ laundry hamper, tiptoed into my bedroom, and thank God Cindy was sound asleep. I slipped a drawer open, got out a pair of underwear and a T-shirt. Cindy didn’t wake up till I was crawling in beside her.
“How’s he doing?” she said.
For a moment my mind went blank and I didn’t know who she was talking about. Then I said, “He’s okay. Just needed some company for a while.”
“That’s good. Night, babe.” She reached out to lay her arm across my chest. I was afraid she might feel how cold I was, but she didn’t. She went right back to sleep.
I have a question for you, Spence.
Wherever you are these days, do you ever feel alone?
If you do, you know what an awful feeling it is. It’s the absolute worst. I remember feeling it when my mother died, and for a long time afterward. Then one day I woke up happy to be with Pops and Gee, happy to have the life they were giving me, and after that I didn’t feel alone anymore. And thought I never would again.
Lots of times in Iraq I felt it too. Despite the closeness of our unit, despite the friendship I felt with you, it was easy to feel alone over there too. At night in my cot. On patrol. In the latrine. First thing in the morning when I’d wake up to the heat and noise and remember where I was.
Then I came home to Pops and Gee, then Cindy and the girls, and suddenly it seemed like I didn’t have the time to be lonely anymore. Except at night sometimes, like when I was dreaming I was awake and the air was too hot to breathe and I thought I could hear somebody creeping around outside, looking for a way to pitch an IED inside.