Tao Lin - Eeeee Eee Eeee

A minivan parks adjacent Andrew. A girl and a boy, and some dolphins, talking loudly and laughing. Andrew leans over and pretends he is looking for something in the passenger seat. He is crying a little. “Your car has no top or driver’s side door,” says a boy. Andrew stares at the things on the passenger seat. CD cases, blue pens, a receipt from Albertson’s. He takes the receipt and stares at it, leaned over in the car. It’s dark. He can’t see anything. He folds the receipt and puts it in his pocket. He sits a while then gets out and walks toward Denny’s. He can feel he’s about to start thinking about Sara. He keeps walking and thinks about the future. The future. He has some vague images of things happening, or not happening, and then it feels like the future exists, already, for him to go home, lie in bed, and think about, like a memory; it feels like the past.

Driving, delivering pizzas. No Sara. No future. At a stoplight Andrew feels very calm suddenly. Feels like being filmed. He is in Florida, being filmed for an independent movie starring someone else. Sara, probably. His life must change. Things must happen and explode because of being in a movie. Andrew will teleport into a perilous situation, punch someone in the face; teleport to Sara, hug her. He was driving. There was a field and she was like, We should drive into that tree, like a garage . He was like, Let’s climb it and eat in it . They sat on branches and licked Popsicles.

Light turns green. Andrew doesn’t want to go. He goes. He should drive into something. A mountain. The mountain would explode. There’s nothing to drive into. If Sara were here there’d be things to drive into, for some reason. Andrew passes the neighborhood he’s supposed to turn into and U-turns over the median, knocking over a small tree. A row of cars go by honking. Andrew laughs. He has no future. He is embarrassed for knocking over a tree. That was wrong. Representing Domino’s Pizza Corporation. He shouldn’t be making illegal U-turns. He feels bad. There were birds in that tree. An enormous family of baby birds, and squirrels. The mother bird will fly back and feel confused.

At home Andrew calls Steve. 10 p.m. Either cards at Justin’s or the arcade. Cards will lead to drinking; everyone will end up depressed. Arcade, then. Andrew drives to Steve’s house. As Steve is walking to the car his two little sisters throw water balloons. Both miss and land on the grass. The sisters run, pick up the balloons, throw them. One bounces off Steve’s face, the other splashes on the driveway. The sisters run to the side yard, do high-fives, and run away.

“I’m going to kill them,” Steve says in the car.

“They gave each other high-fives,” Andrew says.

“We should go on a killing rampage,” Steve says. “In my front yard.”

“Good idea.” Andrew wishes he were one of the little sisters. He feels depressed suddenly; and bored. He should be one of the sisters and Sara the other. “Now what. Arcade?”

“I hate the arcade,” Steve says. “It’s depressing and a waste of time. I’m broke.”

“I always say things are depressing and a waste of time. Don’t steal my identity.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Steve says.

“I will. Tonight. In my enormous house.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I was giving you a friendly suggestion.”

“Yeah.” Killing rampage in the arcade. “I should play arcade games and kill myself on purpose and go around saying I’m killing myself.”

“Don’t kill yourself,” Steve says. “Kill my siblings.”

“Why do you call them siblings?”

“I’m stupid,” Steve says. “Don’t kill my siblings. Kill me.”

“I killed a tree today. I felt bad. I should kill my job. But with kindness. The kindness of strangers.”

“First kill me and my siblings,” Steve says.

“I need to use your bathroom.”

“Go,” Steve says.

Andrew goes into Steve’s house. It’s very dark inside. Andrew is afraid an alien will grab him. The alien will be lonely and want a hug but Andrew will have a heart attack and a seizure at the same time. Steve’s third sister, Ellen, the one in high school, is sitting on the sofa in the living room. She is sitting there, in the dark, not doing anything. She picks up a book and looks at it.

“I’m using the bathroom,” Andrew says.

It is very dark in the living room.

Ellen stands and walks away. Her book hits her leg and falls and she walks away faster.

Andrew uses the bathroom then comes out. Ellen is walking very slowly through the living room. She looks a little confused. Andrew follows her to the kitchen. Ellen opens the refrigerator and without bending her back stands looking in.

“What book were you reading?” Andrew says.

“Weren’t you reading a book?” Andrew says.

“I don’t know,” Ellen says. She leaves the refrigerator open and walks away. She comes back and closes the refrigerator. It is very dark without the refrigerator’s light. Ellen trips on a chair and falls and stands and walks into another room.

“You took a long time,” Steve says in the car.

“I tried to talk to your sister.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Steve says.

“No, I tried to talk to her for real.”

“You are an asshole,” Steve says.

“She was sitting in the dark staring. It was good.”

“She has no friends,” Steve says.

They go to Wal-Mart. They look for something to use against the little sisters. Can’t find anything. They stay at Wal-Mart over two hours. In the car Andrew has a videotape, Gosford Park .

“You son of a bitch,” Steve says.

“Did you see this?”

“You son of a bitch,” Steve says again.

Steve on a killing rampage; mass grave in the side yard. “It won every award,” Andrew says. “Because the director is a hundred years old or something. It’s the Jhumpa Lahiri of movies.” Doesn’t make sense. Oh well.

“You’re the Jhumpa Lahiri of stealing shit from Wal-Mart,” Steve says.

“I bought it.”

“You bought it with cunning and speed,” Steve says.

“Yeah. And a ten dollar bill.” Andrew turns on the car. Sara. The music is loud and depressing. Andrew turns it down. “Jhumpa Lahiri makes me want to kill a blue whale or something. I told you about her, right? Yeah. I don’t understand her … name. Her name looks like a killing rampage.”

“We should hunt her down,” Steve says. “With cunning and speed.”

“She probably lives on a diamond boat with her Pulitzer Prize.” Sara lives in New York City. They had classes together. She drew a penis on Jhumpa Lahiri’s face. They went into bookstores. She graduated early, met someone else. Andrew met no one, moved back to Florida, and has no future.

They drive to Justin’s house and throw Gosford Park in the front yard. Probably five guys inside playing cards and drinking; all depressed, though none will admit it. Five guys drinking, admitting being depressed. They would go on a depressed rampage, killing things languidly. Andrew killed an extended family of birds and squirrels. He climbed a tree with Sara. Her Popsicle was blue. It was strange. It was opaque or something. Why is your Popsicle confused?

They drive around, not doing anything; not going anywhere. It’s dark and quiet outside. In the car they listen to really depressing music. Andrew feels disorientated and bored, or else lucid and calm; he can’t tell. The stereo system is pretty good. Honda Civics are strange. Andrew likes Honda Civics for some reason. They look like how he feels; is that it? Should’ve leapt to her branch and kissed her. Too dangerous. Should’ve suggested building a tree fort. Let’s quit school and live in a tree fort. Like a garage . Wink at her. Sara, laughing. Sometimes she’d laugh maniacally. Sara’s beautiful face, laughing insanely. Then calm and pretty.