Jul 9, 2017

It was a dark and stormy night













Fragment, fragment. The GREEN EYES were about everything, there was always a fitting fragment. How about THIS IS HEAVEN, then? Why, here, the opening of Chapter 47, the cataclysmic chapter. The context is complicated. Ask yourself the question: are John and Alex still together?

It’s a dark and stormy night out there beyond the entrance of the Atlantis Beach Hotel. I’ve re-activated the A-level phone and dialed Alex. We need a ride, I explain.
Alex is not in the mood (“We can’t seem to get rid of our John”).
I get defensive (“You put me up with Bienpensant”).
He gets sarcastic (“Didn’t I tell you she’s a good lay”).
I’m pleading (“I need you help”).
He’s sarcastic (“With your adrenal fatigue…”).
I signal the need for motorized transportation (“A big box of fireworks”).
He turns self-reflexive (“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, I apologize”)—but then he interrupts himself, “Fireworks?”

I explain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Alex,” I say, “I’m ready to ditch you.”
“Apologies again,” he says. “Kaboom, she said?”
“Yes.”
“Kaboom is what we need,” he muses. “Your box is possibly too large for my Prius. Stupid.”

I hang up. You can’t physically hang up with a cell phone, but this is the new, Swarovski-encrusted A-thing, and I angle my arm like a baseball player and lob it across the dunes into the angry, wind-swept sea.

Then I calm down and borrow the dolly for a while and push the fireworks through the storm to the field. I’m thinking. I have always had trouble with these he-knows-that-she-knows-that-he-knows chains, and now I’m having trouble with Alex’s sarcasm-remarks: so, he apologizes—so he’s aware it hurts—so he’s aware that I’m aware that it hurts—and then adding insult to injury—assuming that a flat apology would do—that our John is everybody’s clown and especially his. (As they say math books: the remainder of the proof is left to the reader.)

By the way: if you fix the fireworks to the base of a rickety bleacher, loaded with people, and kaboom, what the fuck do you expect?




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