Maybe this was all it took. Maybe Father finally heard and understood. Years ago, he had finally accepted that I would no longer be the dancer he wanted me to be. Maybe today he understood that I could not and would not date Elle. And maybe he saw that our only course of action was reconciliation with MKG.
The rust-colored mountains gave way to flatter and flatter vistas covered with a crazy quilt of house developments, shopping malls, sweat shops, all interspersed with fields of corn. In the distance, a cloud of greenish vapor tinted the horizon.
At night, much of the slubs were black, but a few dots of electric light or bonfires mirrored the dozen stars in the sky. During the day, it was ugly, limitless, flat, and dull. Worse, it made me feel insignificant.
I wished Joelene were with me. She would surely applaud my daring. Several times lately, she had congratulated me on puzzles solved and initiatives taken, but this was the boldest yet.
The car began to slow, but we hadn’t even come to the Gulf Coast yet. I glanced at the red emergency stop button, with its big white E, at the front of the cabin, as if I had accidentally pushed it, but of course, I hadn’t. “Driver,” I said, “what’s the matter?” A second later, Ken Goh’s blue and orange painted face filled the screen.
“I know you just had a terrible ordeal,” he said, “and I feel very
“He is not.”
“No, he is.” Ken had worked for Father for more than a year, but what he did besides agree with everything Father said, I didn’t know. My impression was that there was nothing inside of him. He didn’t care what he kissed, how many times, or how bad it tasted. “I know you’d agree that he’s brilliant and yet modest.” Ken smiled, and across three of his front teeth the letters y e s were stenciled in blue. “Trust me, he knows your situation and feelings.”
I snapped off the screen, but he turned it back on from his side.
“See,” he smiled a big yes smile, “your father predicted that you’d turn me off.” Leaning in, Ken whispered, “He knows. He’s much wiser than you might think.” Scrunching up his citrus face, he added, “Sure, he’s got a temper. And sometimes it flares up badly. But all great men have fits. I think it is part of being
Xavid and his huge square glasses leaned in. “Elle is a peach. Squeeze her and you’ll get nectar.”
I had liked Father’s previous hairdresser. She was a tall, bosomy matron of a lady who was always complaining about the horrible styles he wanted. But he got rid of her. Xavid was a scrawny little man who dressed mostly in oily, black sealskins. His huge amber eyeglasses made his eyes look yellow, watery, and distorted. For some reason his lips were always an odd bluish color, as if he lacked oxygen, and his little whitish tongue often darted out of the right corner of his mouth like a feeding sea worm. Mostly, he was just creepy and odd.
I clicked it off again, waited for them to come back, but it stayed dark. Just as I decided they had given up, Father’s face appeared.
“Hey, Michael,” he said slowly, “I know I was loud before. I’ve got a talent for loud.” He laughed and held his smile until it slowly wilted. “Anyway, I know you’re not into Ultra, or Head, or Bang anymore.” He paused as if to lament my transformation once again. “Look,” he said, his voice quieter, “I know you’re unhappy about being shot… and everything about that… you know… and that MKG girl and everything…”
He couldn’t even say Nora’s name. I reached to turn it off.
“Wait! Hold on! I’m upset too. I really am. And you know what I think? I think that freeboot was nothing more than dick fuzz!” He held his grin as if waiting for me to agree. “Look,” he continued, after he decided that I wasn’t going to play along, “the deal is—the company needs you. We’ve got to have something for the show. So come on back home, we’ll sit down with your little tutor and we’ll get this all hammered out.”
“No.” The word came out easily and I was proud of myself. In the past, I had had trouble standing up to him. To the driver, I said, “Full speed, please.”
“Elle’s not so bad,” he continued. “You see the stats on her tits? They’re pointy!” His eyes lit up. “Remember there was a girl who looked kind of like her from the PartyHaus? She had that kind of nose.” He flicked up the end of his with a finger.
I did not remember, nor did I want to. “Driver,” I said into the intercom, “increase speed now.”
“No,” said Father, speaking louder, as if commanding my attention, “I’m pretty sure you said something about her once. You have to remember! She was the one who swallowed everyone and everything.” As he always did, he got too close to the camera, and his face became distorted so that his nose looked like the front of a blimp. “Sheila! Wasn’t that it? Remember her? Slurping Sheila we called her.”
I glared at him. Dividing her name into two faux syllables, I said, “No-ra.”
“Shut up!” he exploded. “Don’t even say her fucking name! From now on, I’m banning it.”
I reached out and flicked the off switch. Nothing happened.
“Ha!” Father winked off camera. “Lard work, Ken.”
“Please,” I said, “go away.”
“MKG is our enemy. Two minutes ago Nora’s dad was on
“I’m sure he’ll apologize if we just explain.”
“No explaining! No apologizing! They rejected us, and now we’re total enemies.”
“We can go back and explain that it was no one’s fault.”
“Stop with the explaining!” He flung his hands into the air. “They want to bury us. I’m telling you, they were behind that damn freeboot. They’re against us.”
“Against us!” echoed Ken from off camera.
“I’ll talk to Nora,” I said.
Father began laughing so gutturally at first I thought he was retching. “Oh, boy! That’s a big mug of flush water!” Turning to his guys, he said, “We’re saved! He’s going to talk to the pud-girl for us. He’s going to have her go tug on her daddy’s trousers, and he’ll fix up everything!” Then he leveled a stare at me. “You’re dumb,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I thought you wanted to become smart! Your tutor has taught you dick spit!”
I wanted to scream at him, but that would mean loud had won. “I am not your son,” I enunciated. “I’m not a Rivers anymore.”
With a big roll of his eyes, as if I had to be fooling, he said, “Come on! You don’t have a choice there!” Then he leaned in, bumped his nose against the lens, and left a greasy spot. “If you want to get all quiet, and still, and grey, and whatever… fine! But you are Michael
I pushed the off button as hard as I could and managed to get the screen to shut down. To the driver, I said, “Full speed,” and an instant later, the acceleration pushed me back into my seat.
It felt over. I was no longer Hiro Bruce Rivers’ son. I was no longer Michael Rivers, and I no longer had his worries. The only thing I felt was the anticipation of seeing Nora. Of inhaling air she had breathed, of touching her face, and gazing at her with my grey eye.
Then the car began to slow again. “No!” I said, “don’t stop. Speed up!”
“Sorry, sir,” was all the driver said.
“Keep going!” I switched to the next seat and jabbed a finger at the screen. An instant later, I saw Father. Now he held a glass of that horrible sweet, black, fermented carrot liquor he liked. “Let me go!”
“Oh, you’re going,” he said, as he tilted the glass and let a glob of the stuff ooze into his mouth like tar. After he struggled to swallow, he said, “And if you’re out, then you’re really out!” His foot flew up at his screen and it went black.
I asked the driver to continue to Europa-1, but outside, I could see the baffle brakes open up and the air began to howl. “Please,” I begged, “for me. For Michael Rivers, please don’t turn around.” Red and yellow emergency lights began to spin all over the car. A siren, like a slide whistle, sounded and a deep voice repeated:
Thirty seconds later, we had come to a stop. I turned and looked behind, afraid another car was coming. I didn’t see anything, and as I looked around at the enormous flat lands that spread out on both sides and the road
