Miriam Toews - The Flying Troutmans

I mean, I know, you know, you’re fifteen and it’s sometimes, I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but it’s, at fifteen, a boy is, well girls too, I mean, you know, everyone…but they’re…they are soo… what the hell was I doing? …horny. Right? You don’t have to answer that. And it’s hard, like impossible really, to think before, you know, jumping into something that seems really great at the time…in that particular moment…um.

Please, dear God, make Thebes have something bizarre and urgent that she’s got to get off her chest right now. Bring her to this bathroom door, make her bang on it. Now, God, now!

Yeah, said Logan.

Can I ask you a question? I said.

Yeah.

How do you feel about this whole, you know, odyssey?

Odyssey?

Like, this trip we’re on. What are you thinking?

Um, I don’t know, he said. Fine?

Okay, but are you just saying that because you think that’s what I want to hear?

Uh, sort of…I guess…I don’t know.

So you’re sort of feeling fine and sort of feeling something other than fine?

Maybe.

And what is the thing other than fine that you’re feeling?

I don’t know.

Well, is it scared? Or nervous?

I don’t know.

Okay, but like right now if I had a gun to your head and you had to blurt out one thing you were feeling, like in order to save your life, or, say, Min’s life, what would that one thing be, that one word? Okay, super, so now I’m creating an imaginary scenario in which I hypothetically threaten his life and the life of his mother unless he speaks. Real cool. Real Barbara Coloroso.

Can it be two words? he said.

Yes! I said. It can be as many words as you want. Let’s talk all night!

Okay, um, let’s see, he said. Four words.

And they are…

Really, really, really angry, he said.

I tried to get more out of him, but he shook his head and said he was also really, really, really tired. He looked like he was going to cry. I said okay, I understood. I did. It all made sense. It was normal. It was. I started to leave, and then he said, But who would just do that?

Do what? I said.

Like, just leave. You know? Like, just disappear.

You mean Cherkis? I said.

Logan pulled his hoodie over his face.

I don’t know, I said. I really…you know…I just don’t know. If we find him you can ask him, right? Maybe he thought it was the best thing…I don’t know. Human beings…

Logan laughed for a second and sighed, then laughed again, just a gasp of air.

I know, I said. I’m an idiot. I don’t know why I said “human beings.” Lame. I’m just trying to—

Yeah, said Logan. No.

What, no? I said.

You’re not an idiot, he said.

Well, actually, yeah, I really am, I said. Certified.

Whenever the clock says it’s 11:11, said Logan, I automatically, without thinking, wish that Mom is happy.

Oh yeah. That 11:11 thing, I said, when stars crash into each other.

And then I always worry that I’m wasting another wish, he said.

Well, but, I said, it isn’t like—

Sometimes I comfort myself, he said.

Really? You do?

Yeah, he said.

How? I said.

Sometimes I comfort myself by saying that every day, for as long as I live, will be either a Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday.

I smiled. Whatever gets you through the night, I said.

He smiled back.

See? I said. Isn’t this nice? This talking thing?

Yeah, he said. My tremendous people skills…Hey, why didn’t you tell me I have two huge zits on my right cheek? He stared at his reflection.

What do you mean? I asked. You do have people skills…

Yeah, whatever, he said, and then started making faces in the mirror and riffing about his skills. If it weren’t for these skills, he said, I don’t know where I’d be. Sometimes my skills are so good they just intimidate people into not talking to me. And then I get nervous about using my terrific skills in front of people, so I mainly just act like I’m from a different culture.

Hey, I said, you know, sorry, but those two zits are only half the story.

What? he said. He got up really close to the mirror and peered at his face. Fuck, man! he said. Can you give me a minute alone in here?

No, you should leave them alone, I said. Scars.

He sat down on the toilet and crossed his legs and his arms and looked at me. Like if there was something about scars I could tell him that he didn’t already know I could just go ahead and give it my best shot.

I didn’t know what else to say. I had wanted Logan to understand that Cherkis hadn’t decided one morning on a whim to leave his family, to blithely take off for something better and more exciting and leave his kids confused and angry and sad, but that in fact Min had forced him to leave. But I also didn’t want Logan to be angry with Min for making Cherkis go away. Cherkis had tried hard to ride the tsunami waves of Min’s moods and he’d managed for quite a long time, way longer than my parents and I had ever hoped for. Min resented his care, in the same way that she hated mine and anybody else’s. But what were the people who loved her supposed to do? Tell her to go right ahead and starve herself, no big whoop, whatever, we don’t care if you disintegrate right before our eyes. Yeah, polish off that giant bottle of sleeping pills all at once, do it, we can use the container for something else. How do you love someone who wants to be left alone to die? How do you stay? How do you walk away? My old Paris apartment is filled with psychology textbooks but I still haven’t found the answer. There were two things I wanted and they were entirely incompatible. I wanted Min never to lose her children, to always have them nearby. And also, I wanted to tell Logan to set himself free, to live his life, not to worry about Min, he couldn’t fix her, and he shouldn’t feel guilty. But I didn’t say any of that.

Hey, I said.

Yeah? said Logan.

You know Cherkis tried so hard to stay.

Yeah? said Logan.

I tried hard to stay too, I said.

He didn’t say anything.

You might not understand, I said. Or, do you?

I don’t know, said Logan.

I gave Logan an awkward hug and nearly knocked him into the sink. He told me I was stronger than I looked. He said he was going to have a shower.

I went into the other room and saw Thebes running like crazy, breathing hard, purple hair bobbing up and down as she tried to keep up with Lola. She saw me and bounded over and put her hands on my hips and locked her laser eyes on mine.

How did it go? she whispered.

Good, good, shhh, I said. You can stop running now.

No, she said. She was going to go all the way with Lola and save that guy’s life.

WE GOT UP EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, ate some fruit from the cooler and loaded up the van. I stared at the pool of something that was seeping out from underneath it. Logan had started playing Frisbee with Thebes in the parking lot. He threw the Frisbee hard every time against the pavement so it would deflect and fly up straight into Thebes’s hands. Or face. She didn’t like it. She kept yelling, Throw it normally, throw it normally! I looked around to make sure nobody was watching and then I got down on my hands and knees and stuck my finger in the mystery liquid and tasted it. I’d seen my father do this once or twice. Except I didn’t really know what I was supposed to be tasting or how to differentiate it from any other automotive flavour. I decided it was water and not oil. It was water from the air conditioner, probably. I thought hey, excellent, we’ll have to stop using the AC and open all the windows and the wind and the racket will drown out Thebes and muffle Logan’s music. I didn’t mind listening to Thebes’s chatter or Logan’s music most of the time, but I was trying to solve problems and formulate solutions in my mind and I needed to concentrate for a while. We were headed for Denver, and then we’d blast our way like amyl nitrate west through the Rocky Mountains.