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Authors: Douglas Coupland

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #General

All Families Are Psychotic (22 page)

BOOK: All Families Are Psychotic
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'Yeah, well, thar she blo ws.' 'Huh.'

In the hallway the housekeeping staff were having a squabble over who did or did not forget towels that were, or were not, of the righ t type.

'Let me hold you,' said Ted. 'Really now?' said Janet.

'Yeah, really now.'

Janet weighed the ups and downs of the offer. 'I used to love you dearly, Ted Drummond .' 'I used to love you dearly, too, my dear.'

'You want to hold me?' 'Yes. I want to hold you.'

'Our li tt le girl 's going into space, Ted.' 'Our li tt le girl .'

Shor tly, like tw ins in utero, arm in arm, they fell asleep.

21

At a pay phone down on Daytona Beach's main drag, Wade dialed Sarah at her private number. Bryan was bro wsing in a nearby shop that sold NASCAR baubles.

'Sarah?'

'Oh. It 's
you.'

'Huh? What do you mean " Oh, it 's
you "?'

'Just what I said.' 'Are you OK?' 'Yes. I'm
OK:

Something 's going wrong.
'What's up, li tt le sister?'

'Wade, you're really pushing things by phoning me like this.'

'What — is it your training time righ t now? Should I have called at four a.m.?' 'That's not what I mean.'

'Sarah, what's happening?'

Sarah mimicked him:
'Sarah, what's happening . .
.'

Wade felt dizzy, as if he'd just gotten off a Til t-a-Whirl . 'Sarah, come on — this isn' t fair. I have no idea what's happening.'

'I found out once and for all abou t Howie and Alanna.' 'Oh.'

'Yeah,
oh.'

'How? Who told you?' 'Does it matter?'

'Yes, it
matters:

Sarah went quiet on the other end. She sniff led once and was on the cusp of tears.

Wade said, 'Oh, geez, Sarah. I'm sorry. I'm so goddamn sorry I feel sick, and I really do feel sick. Oh, geez.

Oh,
geez.'
Sarah sniff led again. There were loudspeaker sounds in the background . Wade asked, 'Who told you?'

'Gordon .'

'Gordon Brunswick?'

'Yes — Commander Gordon Brunswick, husband of Alanna.'

Don' t be defensive.
'Why? How?' Wade sensed Sarah collecting her wits.

'Alanna blabbed. Because you caugh t her —
them.
Because she felt guil ty. Because she's a meddlesome cow.'

'I see.' More background noises — a drill of some sort: a PA system. Wade tried imagining what he'd feel like if Beth cheated on him. He said, 'Christ, I'm sorry, Sarah.'

'You don ' t understand, do you?' 'Understand? Understand what?' 'It 's not Howie I care abou t.'

'You're losing me, Sarah. You don ' t care abou t Howie?'

Sarah sighed; whatever tears there'd been were gone. 'Wade, you think I'm perfect, don ' t you?' 'Well — yes. I always have.'

'I can' t take it any more.'

'Well, I mean nobod y's per—' 'Shut up, Wade.'

'Sarah?'

'Gordon and I were having an affair. It 's been the most liberating thing that's ever happened to me.'

Kaboom. What was blurr ed becomes focused.
'Like I'm someone to judge anything, Sarah.' 'We were going to make love up in zero-G.'

'Oh,
man
. . .'

'Now Gordon 's called things off and shut himself off to me. He migh t as well be my tenth-grade chem teacher.'

'Oh, Sarah.'

'I was in love with him, Wade. Shit, I still
am.
What I have with Gordon is
totally
different than anything I remember feeling for Howie. Howie was OK, but I don ' t worship him. Never have. Do you worship Beth?' 'I haven' t though t of it that way. I suppose I do.'

'I don ' t care abou t this mission any more. I don ' t.' 'Sarah — don ' t say stuff like that. You
have
to care.' 'Do I?'

This is all my fault. This is all my fault. I had to go wear clean clothes to the hotel.
'Sarah, you've been working towards this your whole
li fe.'

'Correction: Everyone
else
has been pushing me towards this my whole li fe. Dad especially.'

'You can' t just drop out. It 's not like NASA has understudies. This isn' t a high school produ ction of
Bye, Bye Birdie.'

'Oh, I'll go up there into orbi t. And OK, I'll do my job. And that's
all
I'll do. I migh t as well be running a diagnostic test on an Audi. It 's just a job.'

'Sarah, let me come see you. Can they give you an hour off at this poin t? Can we just talk?' Sarah sighed. 'Wade — this is all kind of new to me. I don ' t kno w.'

'Is this why you were so pissy with Mom last nigh t? Pardon my French.' 'Yeah. I shouldn ' t have yelled at her. It 's the last thing she needs.'

Good. She still cares about other people's feelings.

In the background a bell went off. 'I have to go, Wade.' 'When can I call you next?'

'I'll call you. I promi se. Doesn' t anyone there have a cell phone?'

Wade gave her Ted's number. 'Recharging the damn things is like sorting out Mideast poli tics. I'll call tonigh t.' Wade then remembered Howie. 'What abou t Howie — didn ' t tw o NASA guys take him away yesterday?'

'Yeah. I guess so. Whatever. He's probably planning a surpri se clambake or organizing a happy-wappy balloon -o-gram or something dorky.'

'I love you, li tt le sister.' 'Thanks, Wade. G'bye.'
Click

Geez.

Bryan had emerged from the shop and stood beside Wade at the phone boo th. 'Let's get Mom and Dad and go find Shw.' Bryan was slathered in zinc cream; a T-shir t was draped over his head, clamped in place by a Miami Dolphin s baseball cap. The rest of his tender pink body was draped in discoun ted
après

beachwear, purchased with money donated by Janet. He looked like a bin of Salvation Army remnants. 'Not so fast,' said Wade. His mind was reeling.

'How's Sarah?' Bryan asked. 'Good. Good. Fine.'

'You OK, Wade?'

'Yeah.'

'Call that German guy.'

Diversion!
'Righ t. I'll call Florian.' Cars roared past, mostly down the main drag of Daytona's tourist

district.
It 's like Reno — no — it 's like Laughlin — Laughlin by the sea.
Wade clanked a mound of quarters on top of the pay phone and dialed the number of Buckingh am Pest Control in the Bahamas. The deeply bored Bahamian woman's voice answered once more: 'Buckingh am Pest Control.'

'Hi. This is Wade calling Florian abou t the letter from his . . .
mother.
I spoke with you yesterday.' This seemed to cause the sligh test tw itch of enthusiasm in her voice. 'I'll patch you through . One moment.'

Wade was glad to have passed the gatekeeper.

A sarcastic German accent, fil tered through ump teen cell towers, satelli tes, optical fibers and copper cables, came on: 'Well, hel
lo
, is this really young Wade?'

'Hi, Florian.'

'Oof! This is
too
rich. How on earth did a li tt le piss-ant
comme toi
end up with
my
delivery?'

' More to the poin t, what's
a
bag of Euro trash like you doing ransacking my family's goddamn hotel room?'

'Temper,
temper,
Wade. You'll notice I waited until nobod y was there. Was anybody hur t? No. Was anything stolen? No.'

'Only because you couldn ' t find it.'

'Why pay for something I can have for free?' 'You immor al scum—'

'Oh, shut up. I'm not immor al, I'm merely very, very rich, and because I'm very, very rich I live by different rules. It 's the way things work.'

I will keep my cool. I will keep my cool.

'Wade, do speak to me, because I can practically hear your therapist's voice coming through the receiver telling you to contain yourself.'

He is a European shitbag. He is not worth my time.

Florian went on: 'You're still keeping silent, so I must be correct. What are you enroll ed in — an 'anger management' workshop? Lots of winners there, I imagine. By the way, the Bahamas misses you. I heard via the tom-toms that you ended up in Kansas City. Excuse me while I gag. Dear boy, you should have

phoned me —
whoops —
sent me an
e-mail —
and told me of your pligh t. I could have sent a packet of culture your way — tickets for regional dinner theater, paintings of weeping clowns painted by

celebrated funny man Mr. Red Skelton.'

'Florian, shut up. Do you want the blood y letter or not?' 'So
butch,'

'Well?'

Florian changed direction. 'It was brough t to my attention that there was a prescrip tion bott le for ddI in your hotel's bathroom , Wade. Hardly a recreational drug.'

I forgo t my ddI. Shit, shit, shit.
'Does your nanny still spank you to sleep at nigh t?' 'Gee whillik ers, Wade, hit where it hur ts. So what's with the ddI, huh?'

'What do you think?'

' Mumps? The croup? Tonsilli tis?' 'You're a real wit, Florian.'

A tractor-trailer belched by. Florian asked, 'Was that a truck I just heard?' 'Yeah, it was.'

'Wade! You're in Zimbabwe, aren' t you? Having hot, steamy unpro tected sex with central African truckers.'

'Florian, talk business.' 'So manly!'

Best not to tell him Norm's dead — best not to mention Norm at all.
'Before you start razzing on me too much here, Florian, I'm just the courier on this deal, OK? I'm just the messenger.'

'You mean to say Donald Duck brough t our friend Stormin ' Norman back from the dead?'

Shit.

'You kno w,
Wade,
all those dancers prancing abou t Small Town USA — young gypsies with a song in their heart and a cell phone in the changing rooms — of
course
I found out. Your shit could come out sideways while sitt ing on a Disney latrine, and every freshman inside their Minnie Mouse costume would kno w

before you've even flushed. And tell me this, Wade, did Norman tell you there were other people who wanted this letter badly?'

Wade said nothing.

Florian continued: 'I'm assuming that's a " yes". And did Norman also hand you a line abou t royal stationery being made out of titanium and the Queen's recycled panties?'

'Well—'

'You are
such
a chump, Wadie-kins.'

'There was a blackou t at Disney World and suddenly he was . . .
dead:

'Wade, I've done some iffy things in my li fe, but I have yet to either infil trate the Disney World power system or shoo t poison darts at moron s who own a bunch of money-hemorrh aging spor ts franchises. And the only reason poor Norman couldn ' t come to the Bahamas himself was because last year he got caugh t fencing stolen Cezanne sketches, which, granted, in the Bahamas is as common as jaywalking , but not

when the buyer is one of the governor 's best cricket buddi es.' 'It 's a cash deal, Florian.'

'Wade, you're starting to bore me.' 'I've gotta go, Florian.' Bye.

Click

'Well?' Bryan was trying to stand inside the thin lazy shade cast by a telephone pole. 'Can we go?' 'Yeah, let's go.' Wade realized he'd forgo tten to ask abou t Howie.

'We've gotta buy Mom some pads for her heels. She said her heels are hur ting ' 'I kno w, I kno w.'

'That German guy really pissed you off. Sounds to me like you kno w each other really well. What's the deal? Did you work for him?'

. . .
applying defibrill ators to the dolphin s being smuggled into North Carolina . . .

'Wade?'

. . .
Wade, the only thing heavy enough on the boat to make a body sink is the anchor . . .

'I'm righ t — you
do
kno w him.'

. . .
Yes, she's sixty, Wade. So close your eyes and think of Fort Knox . . .

'Yeah, OK, I've worked with the guy before. No big deal.' 'Doing what?'

. . .
Keith just poured liquid nitrogen onto his goddam hand. Throw him out of the truck before the Dukes of Hazzard find our trail. . .

'Doing nothing. What's it to you, Bryan?'

. . .
It was either eat the packets or spend the next thir ty years in a Montego Bay correctional facili ty. So we ate the packets. . .

'It 's pretty bad stuff, otherwise you'd have told me what you'd done.' 'Bryan, I ough ta—'

'No, you
don' t
ough ta
anything,
Wade. Let's just find Mom's heel pads and I'll forget we had this conversation.
Zheesh.'

The tw o men found a drug store a further walk away than they'd anticipated. Wade was preoccupied

with Sarah, interspersed with worries abou t his forgett ing his ddl, wondering whether its absence would speed up his body's slow, sure unraveling. He remembered as a child removing the smoo th white skins of gol f balls, watching the neuro tic disintegration of the li tt le rubber bands inside them.
Stupid, stupid,

stupid to forget it.

On the hotel's twelft h floor, they entered the room, Wade saying, 'We bough t you your—' and there were his parents, asleep together like tw o ageing sheepdogs.

Janet opened her eyes. 'Oh hello, dears.'

Wade found himself unable to muster up the words to meet the situation, and his mother said, 'What were you expecting, Wade, that we'd be in here bashing each other over the head with a door ripped off the bathroom cupboard? We're people, not cartoons.'

Ted was still asleep, snor ting intermi ttently as moist folds of skin within him relaxed and convulsed. 'But—'

'After the li fe you've led, you find
this
surpri sing?'

Bryan said, 'Wade called that German guy — the Flower dude — and Wade used to do all sorts of nasty shit for him.'

'I rest my case,' said Janet. 'Decades' worth of sinful doing s, but Mom and Dad in bed retains the power to shock.'

Ted bol ted awake: 'Is he giving you a hard time?' His demeanor suggested to Wade that a beating migh t be immin ent.

'Everybody get off my case. Geez, it 's like I'm suddenly on trial.' Bryan asked, 'What was the baddest thing you ever did?' 'Bryan, shut up.'

Janet said, 'No, why not answer, dear? I mean, face it, we've been a bit curiou s these past tw o decades.' 'I am a married man! I have a wife and soon a child — my past is no longer the issue it once was!'

BOOK: All Families Are Psychotic
9.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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