Then she’d talked about her father and how she was working for him again, although she’d really never gone off the payroll. Then she asked how James was, even though the two of them do not like each other, and I think I answered “okay.” The other two words I don’t remember.
“Skip, what are you thinking?”
It came spilling out. “That you left. That I know you needed some time to work things out, but I was stuck here with everything closing in on me, and I missed you and needed to talk to you every day and you weren’t here.” It wasn’t what I wanted to say. Not even close. I wanted to hold her, ask her if things were back to normal, and ask her to never leave again. I know it sounds sappy, but I really care for this girl. It just didn’t come out right.
She stared at the sidewalk and the review marching by. Overweight tourists in T- shirts and shorts, girls in bikinis, half the gay population of Miami Beach, and two dogs as big as horses being walked by a midget. Finally she looked at me. “Well, I asked, didn’t I?”
“What do you want me to say? I don’t know what you went through. You thought you were having our kid, then found out you weren’t. I guess you needed some space, but I thought you were having our kid, then found out you weren’t. And I guess I didn’t get any space. Maybe I needed some space too.”
She turned and looked into my eyes. She took my hand, covering it with her own. With a slight smile she said, “I’ve got the answer.”
I took my free hand and picked up my cup of coffee. “I’d love to hear it.”
“You take off. You go away for three months. Whatever harebrained scheme James is working on, I’ll take your place while you get the space you need. Okay? I’ll fill in with James, and you get your space.”
Just the picture of that made me laugh out loud. If she only knew what James and I were into. “I would pay to see that. I really would.”
“Now, can we get past the self-pity? I’m ready for a new start.” She laughed too.
I was ready. “I’m working on it, Em. And I suppose you’re not too far off with the harebrained scheme that James has hatched.”
“Oh, Jeez, I was hoping it was something halfway decent.”
“I think it started out that way, but things have a way of — ”
The waiter brought two steaming plates of eggs, hash browns, sausage, and English muffins to the table.
“A way of what?”
“Things have a way of not working out.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“We may be. It’s too soon to tell.”
“Skip!” She was looking at me like she didn’t even know who I was. “What are you thinking? Get a real job. Quit buying into your roommate’s dreams and find something that works for you. Have you noticed how many of his ideas turn into nightmares?”
I told her how he’d turned the truck into a traveling kitchen. I told her about the carneys, Cashdollar’s message of wealth, dreams, and destruction, about the poker games, the threats, and the flat tires. I told her about Crayer and Stan, Henry, Dusty, his gun, and Mug. I think I left out the silent partner. Again, everything came pouring out of me. I’d wanted to talk to her, tell her exactly what was happening, but never figured the situation would present itself. And now that it had, I unloaded. All concern for our relationship, my hurt feelings, whatever, disappeared for the moment. I told her everything. When I was done she was stone-cold silent. Neither of us had touched the eggs, hash browns or bacon, and breakfast was cold.
“You know, this is a novel. Fiction. No two guys stumble into this much crap, just by accident. Either you are making half of this up,” she paused, “no, two-thirds of this up, or you are the most unlucky son of a bitch that ever lived. I should not only keep you at arm’s length, I should move to another state, west of the Mississippi. Tell me you’re messing with me, Skip. Please, tell me.”
“Come on, Em. You know I’m telling you the truth.”
“Jesus, Skip. You’re nuts if you stick this out with him.”
“Easy for you to say. How much do you make? How much money do you make? My God, Em. I make nothing. We stand to clear two to three thousand dollars apiece when this is all through. To me, that’s a fortune.”
She was quiet. She was breathing deep through that cute little nose, and I marveled at how perfect her face was. Even the teeth, straight as an arrow. I figured the teeth had been worked on, but not the nose. She was so out of my league.
Finally she reached for her untouched coffee, took a sip and made a face. “Cold.”
I caught a waiter’s eye and he replaced the two coffees. She nibbled on a piece of cold, greasy sausage and stared past me.
“Look, we’re seeing each other for the first time in a long time.”
“We are.” I agreed.
“When I left the last time we were both in a lot of trouble.”
“We were.”
“And now — ”
“I’m in trouble again. Or on the verge of trouble.”
“Skip, this doesn’t make the relationship very stable.”
I looked into her eyes. There was a lot here worth saving. “No, but it certainly makes it interesting.”
She squinted, a frown gracing that lovely face. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
“Maybe. But there’s a grain of truth to it. I’ve got an uncle named Buzz, and — ”
“Buzz?”
“Buzz.”
She shook her head. “Buzz is not a name. It’s the sound bees make. It’s a condition.”
“Like getting a buzz on?”
“Yeah.”
“My uncle Buzz, he told me something about life.”
“Oh, jeez, a life lesson from Uncle Buzz. I can’t wait to hear this one.”
I ignored her sarcasm. It had been an hour and she was already down on me big-time.
“Buzz said ‘the only thing we have to look forward to in life is the next big revival.’ ”
Em sipped her warm coffee, leaning back in her chair and staring up at the clear blue morning sky. “So Buzz was a philosopher?”
“Well, we’re all philosophers sometime in our life.”
The morning sun crept under the shade of our umbrella and Em reached into her purse and pulled out her Ray-Ban sunglasses. I couldn’t read her eyes, but I could hear the sarcasm drip from her voice.
“The next time you see Uncle Buzz, please tell him for me that life is a little more than looking for the next buzz.”
“Think about it, Em. What else is there? I mean, I’m trying to get to the next level. That’s what he was talking about.”
“And how does that fit into big trouble at the yellow tent?”
I knew how it fit in. I’d spent half the night, looking up at the stars, thinking about it.
“I’d like to tell you. But some of it involves you. And some of it involves James. That’s a mixture that never seems to go well together. And some of it involves me.”
“Well at least tease me. Give me a hint.” She had picked up her spoon and was softly tapping it on her napkin. Irritating.
“James gives me some vision. Some dreams.”
She shook her head, her streaked blond hair shimmering in the light. “Dreams? James?”
“ You give me some dreams.”
“We’ll table that for now.”
“Cashdollar gives me some dreams. He says that if you give generously, you will be rewarded.”
“And you believe that?”
“I’d like to.” I hesitated. She wasn’t buying this. “James thinks the Cashdollar machine can teach us some things, about how a business organization should run. I can’t argue that this guy is a huge success. He’s got more money than — ”
