31
Jack walked slowly across the parking lot, wanting to give Jo an opportunity to see him, to know he was coming. With the show going strong at his back, he had roughly fifteen minutes before his Q&A, and he wanted to at least look Jo in the eyes, to find some acknowledgement that what they’d done last night was real, had really happened, even if it would never happen again.
He passed June’s massage tables, where she was teaching her brothers Go Fish. The three of them squatted around a card table of flat rubber on the ground.
“Can I have some more cards?” one brother said.
“Me too!” said the other. “Some red ones!”
“What’s the name of this game,” June said. “Can either of you tell me the name of this game?”
Sunshine’s booth was next, and he was nowhere in sight. Jack had told him not to leave his booth unmanned, but he routinely did so. He wondered what it would be like to live in Sunshine’s world. To wake up and decide, from moment to moment, what to do with your time.
Jack looked up to see Jo running toward him. Her red hair leapt from her head, and her blue wrap lapped upward as though trying to put it out.
“Jack,” she called, “Good morning!”
“Morning,” he said.
Suddenly, he was unsure of himself. What had he expected them to say? He looked into her eyes but saw no significance there. In fact she seemed distracted, disengaged.
“I’m going to go pay your friends a visit,” he said, but his only motivation now was to escape his awkwardness.
He began to walk by her, but she grabbed his arm and met his eyes. He could feel her sincerity, and was moved by its power. “I’m not sorry,” she said.
His heart began to beat quickly, and he felt flush. He took a seat at Sunshine’s booth, and Jo joined him. They sat together in silence for a moment. He knew she expected him to speak—he expected it of himself—but he didn’t know how to begin. This was the only woman he’d ever loved.
“Still, it was a bad idea,” he said. “You have to admit.”
Jo laughed at him. It was a foolish thing to say, no doubt. But his were foolish feelings, childish feelings.
He was wondering how he could possibly express himself when Sunshine came out of his tent, scolding him. The man started fussing around with his cards, and his dick was flapping around at head level. Jack got up to leave, but an amazing thing happened: Sunshine asked them to take a card from his deck, and proceeded to give Jo a highly offensive explanation for the one she drew.
“There are wounds,” he said, “that never heal. There are personal sins we’ve committed, but we don’t forgive ourselves because we lack the courage. The judgment card tells us to face our sins, and to move on.”
Jack shook with anger. Was this some kind of condemnation? Jo sat patiently as Sunshine spoke, but she was clearly distressed. Here he was, telling her she’d fucked up. He was no doubt talking about her having left Arivaca, left Jack. Whether or not leaving was the right thing to do, Jack thought, was exactly none of Sunshine’s business.
He gave him a good smack.
Immediately Jack felt ashamed, and almost involuntarily turned from the table and walked off. This was exactly the kind of thing that Jo expected of him, and exactly the wrong impression he wanted to give of his own emotional state. He was reminded of the time in L.A. he’d run out into the street and chased after a car that had been going too fast down the street in front of their house. They’d been sitting on the porch when they heard a guzzler gathering speed, drawing near. There were children hard at play all along the block, and cars were always driving too fast for Jack’s taste. Normally, he’d sufficed himself with a sigh of exasperation or a cuss under his breath, but something about that moment set him off, and he grabbed the leg of a small table and ran out to meet the car as it passed. He hadn’t been quick enough to cross its path, but even without a confrontation, when he’d returned to the porch Jo had looked at him quietly, her eyes unblinking. Then she’d stood up and gone inside.
“Jack,” she now called after him. “Jack!”
She caught up to him and together they walked up to the place he’d marked earlier. It was a rickety, rusted contraption, and the young woman was wrapping old cloth around its edges as though dressing a wound. He reached out and shook it a little, though he knew what he’d find.
“It seems solid enough,” he said.
It was a deathtrap.
“I have to go do my thing,” he told Jo, nodding toward the visitor center. “Are you going to be around after?”
Jo smiled: obviously she’d be around. Jack looked at Jo’s friend, and for the first time realized she had no teeth. He looked away.
“We should,” he said. “We should… I’ll see you later.”
He broke from the booth and stole down the center of the parking lot. The last tourist had gone inside, and he could see Archie, clean and hair combed but still in rags, standing before the door. When he saw Jack he smiled and waved. When Jack reached the building he raised a finger.
“You still need clothes,” he said. “We need you looking like a spoiled little prick.”
New Dead Families 