You wouldn’t know where I could find something like that, would you?
I put the champagne back in the ice chest to cool, and we went out for a walk. By the time we got back, it was just perfect. While she was laying out the comforter, I went down to the car to get the radio, and a stack of magazines I had piled up on the backseat. Once touched by civilization, it’s hard to leave it completely behind. I filled my pockets with packs of cigarettes and went back up, sucking on a stem as I walked.
We spent some time getting settled, then had a drink outside on a rock. It was hot. I half closed my eyes to the setting sun. I cut the pure air of the bourbon with a handful of black olives. They were the kind I liked best, with the pit that comes away clean from the meat with an air of calm. I lay down on one elbow. It was then that I perceived a sparkling in the ground. Under the angled sun, the earth had taken to scintillating like a princess’s gown. God Almighty, this is too much, I said, yawning-this is really wild.
Betty had adopted a more classic position-a lotus-type thing, her back straight and her regard turned inward. She’s going to split her jeans, I thought. I couldn’t remember if I’d brought along another pair for her to change into. We watched a small bird pass by overhead. I was starting to drown in my bourbon. Who could ever hold it against me for getting a little drunk on her thirtieth birthday?
“It’s weird to have bought something like this,” she said. “It seems impossible.”
“The papers are in order, don’t worry.”
“No, I mean to buy something that comes all together like this, with its land, its smells, its little noises, the light-everything.”
I peacefully bit into a piece of smoked chicken.
“Yeah, well, that’s the way it is,” I said. “Everything here is yours.”
“You mean the sunset hanging there in the treetops is mine?”
“Unquestionably.”
“You mean the silence, and the little breeze going down the hill-I own it?”
“Yes. You got the keys right there in your hand…”
“Well, he must have been crazy, the guy who sold you all this!”
I didn’t answer. I drew a line of mayonnaise across my chicken leg. There were also those who would think it was crazy to have bought a place like that. I bit into the middle of my leg. The world seemed to cut itself tragically in two.
After dinner, she decided to make a fire. I wanted to help, but realized that I was incapable of moving. I excused myself, saying it was better that I not try anything foolish in the dark-crossing the terrain, for example-lest I be found later in the bottom of a ravine. She stood up, smiling.
“You know, men aren’t the only ones who know how to make fires.”
“No, but in general they’re the only ones who know how to put them out.”
It was almost totally dark out-I had trouble seeing anything. I stretched out full-length, my cheek against the rock. Through the darkness, I heard the cracking of small pieces of wood in the dark. It was soothing. I also heard mosquitoes. I don’t know why, but when she lit the fire, my strength came back. I managed to stand up. My mouth was dry.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Thing in the car,” I said.
The glow of the fire stayed in my eyes. I couldn’t see anything, but I remembered that the terrain was difficult. I did the soldier’s step and proceeded through the darkness lifting my feet high off the ground. Though I almost took one or two nosedives, all in all I did pretty well. I stopped for a moment halfway down just to savor the joy of being drunk and still standing. I felt the sweat run down my back. When I had first decided to stand up, I had thought myself a fool-part of me had wanted to stay plastered on the ground. The other part won out. Now I realized that I’d done the right thing. I’d been right to make myself get up on my feet. You never regret going the extra mile. It always lifts your spirits.
I sniffled once, softly, then went off again on my little stroll, my hands out in front and my heart light. I believe it was a small round pebble that made me fall. I believe it sincerely-otherwise, why would my foot have shot out in front of me like an arrow, why would the image of a bag of marbles exploding in all directions suddenly have come into my head? I experienced a moment of horrible lucidity before slamming into the earth. My body ignited. I started rolling down the hill in a sort of secondary state-just this side of comatose.
The journey ended right in front of the car’s left front tire, into which I smashed my head. I didn’t hurt anything. I stayed there on the ground for a minute, trying to comprehend what had happened. When you’re sixty such things are unforgiving-when you’re thirty-five they’re sort of laughable. Through the darkness, I saw the car door handle sparkling above my head. I grabbed it and pulled myself up. It was a major effort to remember what I had come down there to get-as if a jar of glue had been spilled on my head. Something to do with mosquitoes… yes… right… the Bug Bomb! I knew I’d thought of everything!
I got the can out of the glove compartment. I pretended not to see myself in the rearview mirror-I just passed a hand through my hair. I stayed there for a while, sitting in the front seat with my legs outside, watching the fire burning up top, the cabin dancing behind it as if it were sitting on top of the world. I tried not to think of what I still had to do.
At least I knew I couldn’t get lost. All I had to do was head for the light. Still, I felt like I was at the bottom of the Himalayas.
We woke up the next day around noon. I got up to make coffee. While the water was heating, I went into Betty’s purse to look for some aspirin. Inside, I found other bottles.
“What’s all this?” I asked. “These pills?”
She lifted her head up, then put it back down.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just for when I can’t sleep,”
“What do you mean, for when you can’t sleep?”
“It’s nothing, really. I don’t take them very often.”
I was annoyed with myself for having found them. I didn’t feel like talking about it. She wasn’t a little girl, after all, she already knew anything I might have told her. I let the bottles fall, one by one, back into her purse. I took two aspirin. I tried to get a little music on the radio. I tried to be easygoing. One of my arms was all scratched, and I had a bump on my head. I didn’t feel like fooling around.
That afternoon Betty decided to clear out a little of the land in front of the house-get a little exercise. I think she was planning to plant a few things the next time we came up. She dug out the grass with an old iron bar we’d picked up on one of our walks. It made a lot of dust. Seeing this, I moved off by myself and started reading. It was nice out. I had to struggle to keep from falling asleep on my rock. These days nine out of ten books are boring-I was ashamed of myself for doing nothing while all those others were out there writing like idiots. This shook me up, surprised me. I went to get a beer. On the way I stopped to mop off Betty’s forehead.
“Everything okay, honey? Making progress?”
“Hey, get me one, too!”
I got two beers and noticed that the stock was getting dangerously low. It didn’t get to me, though. I understood a long time ago that perfection is not of this world-all you can do is make the most of what you have. You realize this when you look in the mirror.
I said, Cheers, and we lifted our beer cans. The dust had settled. We’d been together almost a year now, and I’d learned how to answer the door when opportunity knocked. I didn’t want to end up empty-handed at the age of thirty-five, wondering if it was all worth it. I wouldn’t have liked that much. It would have been depressing-the kind of thing that makes you walk the streets at night.
“I just got an idea about how to have less garbage to take out,” I said.
I threw my empty can down the slope and we watched it fall.
It made it almost all the way to the car.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Not bad. Not great for the landscape, though.”
“Noted, my sweet.”
I made myself useful by doing the dishes from lunch. We climbed up the hill to see the sun before it went
