CHAPTER 3

3.

© 2010 GREG DUNAJ 

  

               In the false light of early morning the two men stood, shoulder to shoulder, splashing their shoes. A warm, summer wind rustled the tall weeds before them and a bird, hidden somewhere in the brush, marked the new dawn with its song. Behind them, the car's idling engine groaned impatiently, and past the weeds of the meadowlands a glow of lights betrayed Harry Days' hometown. Half a day and all of a night had passed and they had finally reached the city limits. 

              "We should have been miles from here...hundreds of miles," said Harry. "Damn it!"

              "Why, it's a beautiful morning," drawled Carlo. He sheepishly smiled. "Listen to them birdies sing."

             "Damn it!"

             "What's the matter caught yourself on your zipper?"

             "I haven't even left home. We've already wasted a day. I've only got three more. I'm not gonna make it."

              Carlo chuckled, the cigarette on his lower lip danced. He shook and tucked and zipped and headed for the car, leaving Harry dangling his emotions foolishly. He got behind the wheel and turned the stereo up loud.

              Harry finished and turned to the car. He made a twirling motion with his index finger. 

              "I'm driving," shouted Carlo and he poked himself in the chest. 

            Harry sat in the car and slammed the door.

            "You got this on so loud," said Harry, reaching for the volume control and turning it down.

            Carlo turned the song back up; it was some heavy-metal anthem.

            "We gotta play it loud," he shouted over the din. The rear-view mirror vibrated with every bass note. "That's what this trip is all about. Loud! Loosen up. Let's have fun...."

              "What? I can't understand you."

            Harry turned the radio down as Carlo maneuvered the car onto the two-lane blacktop. He headed for the New Jersey Turnpike.

              "Damn it!" Harry started up his complaining again. "I can't believe we've wasted a day already, and we've only gone...."

              Carlo turned up the radio again, real loud this time. The music over-modulated, the speakers crackled and strained. Carlo banged the dashboard in time with the staccato beat.

              "What the hell's the matter with you," screamed Harry. He turned the radio down again.

           "We didn't have to follow the ambulance to the hospital and wait with what's her name and then drive her back home."

              "Oh, you're saying it's my fault?"

            "We also had to stop for food, for cigars...."

            Carlo got on the Turnpike entrance ramp, got his fare card from the dispenser and squealed away into the lightening horizon.

              "It's not my fault. We had to stay. You can't drive away when someone you know gets sick like that."

              Carlo gave Harry a sneer and a snort.

            "I can't even go home to take a shower. Kris will kill me if she found out I'm still home."

              "She'd throw a ball and chain on you."

            "We had to stay. I mean, we had to."

            "Well then, don't complain about getting a late start."

            "And, there was no sense starting off the trip hungry."

            "Yeah, you and food. Normally the diner would have been a good idea."

            "It would have been, except for that fight that broke out in the back room."

            "There were a lot of drunks there."

            "Yeah, when the gin mills close, everyone heads off to the diners."

            "Hot dates, huh?"

            "I come out of the bathroom and someone takes a swing at me. I mean, I didn't even know the guy. I had to crawl behind the counter to get back to the booth."

              "I didn't think I was ever going to get my hamburger. Only in New Jersey."

            "Crazy," murmured Harry. He shook his head. "Crazy, crazy, crazy night."

            "Well, we're making progress now, aren't we? We're off, out the door, over hill and dale and whatever, right?"

              Harry cursed under his breath as Carlo leaned back over the car seat and reached into the cooler and pulled out a quart of milk.

              "Hey! What are you doing? Be careful."

            "We're going to need more ice soon."

            "Carlo, let me drive. We have to make up some time. You're not driving fast enough."

            "Hey chill will ya," said Carlo, milk dribbling down his chin. All you've been doing is complaining. Everything is a complaint with you. You're the one with all the problems. You've got time problems and wife problems and food problems and cigar problems. Everything is a problem. It's like you don't even deal with the problems you just, just, complain about them. I wanted to take off right away yesterday. Hell, I should not have stopped for you. I should have kept going."

              "We needed these things," said Harry, his eyes watery and bloodshot.

            "No. I mean I shouldn't have picked YOU up. I should have left without you." Carlo waved his hand briskly at the windshield. "Just leave, with none of this bullshit."

              Harry rubbed his face and laid his head against the window. He sighed and apologized.

              "Why don't you just climb in the back and get some sleep."

            "I'm too nervous, I can't sleep."

            "Well, you're going to have to drive sometime. I can stay up for a long while, but eventually I'll lose it."

            Harry scraped his teeth against his tongue.

            "Did I grow hair on this," he asked, pointing to his exposed tongue.

            He turned the rear view mirror toward him and lolled his tongue at it.

            "Man! Don't wag that thing out. You're liable to catch a fly."

            "Feels like a monkey slept in here."

            "I don't want to see your monkey."

            "I feel like I'm falling apart. I'm not falling apart am I?"

            "You just need some sleep. It was a rough night."

            "I did not have a good time last night. Did I have a good time last night? No, I did not."

            "Look, just lay down in the back, or strap yourself in try and get some sleep here in front. You're tired and upset."

              "You're not driving fast enough."

            "Just put your belt on and get some sleep."

            "What are you, my mother," mumbled Harry, and those were his last words before he fell asleep.

            Carlo cracked open a window and the summer air, damp and heavy, forced its way into the sedan. As the sun glinted off the cargo ships in Newark harbor, planes approached the airport on their right and threatened to land on Carlo and the sleeping Harry.

              He lighted a cigarette and the smoke rushed frantically out the cracked window. As he settled the car into a middle lane and moved with the traffic on the turnpike, thoughts of Madeline came to him. He saw her, framed against a window, the grey, rainy skies of Paris silhouetting her. Her curly black hair was everywhere, hiding her cheeks, hedging her eyes. Her silk robe was undone; he could see the angelic slope of her breast.

              Madeline was sitting with the window open. She had her chair on their little balcony, with its view of the Parentheon, with her legs on the rail, smoking a cigarette. He stood, his bag awkwardly in one hand, feeling sad. 

              He wanted to run to her. He wanted to kneel by her side, and have her ask him to stay, and not return to America. This is what his heart wanted, but the situation was different.

              "Bye," he said, for lack of anything else to say.

            She tilted her head back, he could see her nose, he could see the cigarette pointed straight up and Madeline blew smoke out.

              "Ciao."

            He closed the door quietly behind him.

            Carlo drove for two hours on the turnpike before the need to sleep forced him to pull into a convenience station on Route 95 in Delaware. At least he had gotten them out of New Jersey, he would later say to a still complaining Harry when they both awoke in the late afternoon.