money.'
'It costs money in a church, too-wherever you die and have a service, it costs money,' the mortician said.
'MAJOR RAWLS IS JUST TIRED OF LISTENING TO THIS PARTICULAR BAPTIST,' Owen explained to me. Back in the car, Rawls said: 'I don't believe anyone in this family ever went to church-not ever! That fucking funeral director-I know he talked the family into being Baptists. He probably told them they had to say they were something-then he told them to be Baptists. He and that fucking minister- they're a match made in hell!'
'THE CATHOLICS REALLY DO THIS SORT OF THING BETTER THAN ANYBODY,' said Owen Meany.
'The fucking Catholics!' said Major Rawls.
'NO, THEY REALLY DO THIS SORT OF THING THE BEST-THEY HAVE THE PROPER SOLEMNITY, THE PROPER SORT OF RITUALS, AND PROPER PACING,' Owen said. I was amazed to find that Owen Meany had praised the Catholics; but he was absolutely serious. Even Major Rawls didn't wish to argue with him.
'No one does 'this sort of thing' well-that's all I know,' the major said.
'I DIDN'T SAY ANYONE DID IT 'WELL,' SIR-I SAID THE CATHOLICS DID IT 'BETTER'; THEY DO IT BEST,' said Owen Meany. I asked Owen what had been the stuff I'd seen leaking from the warrant officer's mouth.
'That's just phenol,' said Major Rawls.
'IT'S ALSO CALLED CARBOLIC ACID,' Owen said.
'I call it 'phenol,' ' Rawls said. Then I asked them how the warrant officer had died.
'He was such a dumb asshole,' Major Rawls said. 'He was refueling a helicopter-he just made some stupid-asshole mistake.'
'YOU AGGRAVATE HIGH OCTANE-THAT'LL DO IT,' said Owen Meany.
'I can't wait to show you guys this rucking 'picnic wake,' ' Major Rawls said. Apparently, that was where we were driving next-to the 'picnic wake' that was now in its third, merrymaking day. Major Rawls blew his horn at someone who he thought was possibly inching out of a driveway into the path of our car; actually, it was my impression that the person was waiting in the driveway for us to pass. 'Look at that asshole!' Major Rawls said. On we drove through nighttime Phoenix. Owen Meany patted the back of my hand. 'DON'T WORRY,' he said to me. 'WE JUST HAVE TO MAKE AN APPEARANCE AT THE WAKE-WE DON'T HAVE TO STAY LONG.'
'You won't be able to tear yourselves away!' the major said excitedly. 'I'm telling you, these people are on the verge of killing each other-it's the kind of scene where mass-murderers get all their ideasl'
Major Rawls had been exaggerating. The 'tribe,' as he'd called the family, did not live (as he'd said) in a trailer park, but in a one-story tract house with turquoise aluminum siding; but for the daring choice of turquoise, the house was identical to all the others in what I suppose is still called a low-income housing development. The neighborhood was distinguished by a large population of dismantled automobiles-indeed, there were more cars on cinder blocks, with their wheels off or then-engines ripped out from under their hoods, than there were live cars parked at the curbs or in driveways. And since the houses were nearly all constructed of cheap, uninsulated materials- and the residents could not afford or did not choose to trouble themselves with air conditioning-the neighborhood (even in the evening) teemed with outdoor activities of the kind that are usually conducted indoors. Televisions had been dragged outside, folding card tables and folding chairs gave the crowded suburb the atmosphere of a shabby sidewalk cafe- and block after block of outdoor barbecue pits and charcoal grills, which darkly smoked and sizzled with grease, gave the newcomer the impression that this part of Phoenix was recovering from an air raid that had set the ground on fire and driven the residents from their homes with only their most cherished and salvageable belongings. Some of the older people swayed in hammocks.
Screen doors whapped throughout the night, cats fought and fucked without cease, a cacophony of dogs malingered in the vicinity of each outdoor barbecue-in-progress, and an occasional flash of heat-lightning lit up the night, casting into silhouette the tangled maze of television antennas that towered over the low-level houses-as if a vast network of giant spider webs threatened the smaller, human community below.
'I tell you, the only thing preventing a murder here is that everyone would be a witness,' said Major Rawls. Tents-for the children-filled the small backyard of the dead warrant officer's home; there were two cars on cinder blocks in the backyard, and for the duration of the 'picnic wake' some of the smaller children had been sleeping in these; and there was also a great boat on cinder blocks-a fire-engine-red racing boat with a gleaming chrome railing running around its jutting bow. The boat appeared more comfortable to sleep in than the turquoise house, at every orifice of which there popped into view the heads of children or adults staring out at the night. One of the boat's big twin engines had been removed from the stern and was fastened to the rim of a large iron barrel, full of water; in the barrel, the noisy engine ran and ran-at least half a dozen grown men surrounded this display of spilled gasoline and oil, and the powerful propellers that churned and churned the water in the sloshing barrel. The men stood with such
