William Vollmann - The Royal Family

He went to visit Waldo, but authority had banished the autistic man, leaving his hulks and his nosecone useless in the sand. — In Phoenix you know what they done awhile back? another hobo said to him. Passed an ordnance that garbage is city property. So if you gotta eat, if you open a dumpster, they can bust you for stealing.

He went to Slab City. The angry man and his mother were still there. — Once you get here, it’s hard to get back out, the angry man said. It’s like a hole. — The shy woman was out collecting cans. I hate Irene!

So many of us are sure we’ll always be wherever we are; but Tyler knew better because he traveled a little more than Irene. And in his life Tyler had not had very good luck in finding and keeping people. I hate Irene! So one day he blew in to Miami, wanting to see if Celeste still lived under the freeway, because she had said to him: I hate all those women that get a new husband every week. The guys here respect me like a sister, because I don’t do that. But Ellen has a new husband every week. And worse yet, her kids have a new Daddy every week. When her baby cries, she blows crack smoke in its mouth until he gets quiet. Sometimes I want to take a bullwhip to her! — Celeste had wanted to be unchanging, and he had wanted to believe her, so he imagined that nothing would change, but of course Freewayville was gone. The city fathers had razed it and then fenced it. Their justice was as cruel and useless as that painted water on Salvation Mountain.

A couple of miles northeast of the freeway, almost within sight of a homeless shelter, the mayor’s black friend Stanley and some other men were lying on mattresses on the sidewalk.

City cut that fire hydrant off, Stanley said. Then they moved us out and up to that shelter. So we were allowed to stay there only two months. Now we don’t know what to do. I guess everybody figured they’d help us get a job. Only by the time we got to that shelter there weren’t no jobs. So here we are, out on the Slab. We call this place the Slab, Henry.

Those words of Stanley’s detonated a terrifying flash of comprehension within Tyler’s brain. The Slab and Slab City were both equivalent places with equivalent names: they both derived from the slabs on which Dr. Jasper performed his autopsies.

You ever find that broad you was lookin’ for? asked Stanley.

I never did.

How long you keep lookin’ for her?

Oh, what’s the difference, Tyler muttered. I hate Irene anyway. And the Queen, I can hardly remember her as she really was. I don’t believe. I don’t love. I’m just lost. How long’s it been for you, Stan?

Since what?

Since everything went bad.

I been homeless since 1987, so it’s been exactly ten years now. It comes from using crack cocaine. And it sucks out here. Too much fightin’.

Well, let’s see, it’s been three years for me now, Tyler said.

Congratulations, sucker. Where you been?

Fell asleep on a grainer car last year and woke up in Dubuque.

Aw, Henry, you was always the wise-ass.

Stanley, he said, sitting himself comfortably down, are we ever going to get out of this?

Out of what? To do what and go where, for what reason?

Look. You remember what you thought the first night you slept out in the street?

Stanley laughed bitterly. — That I wouldn’t be out there too long. And now look at me. I’m all scarred from gettin’ in these fights. Happens every time I get drunk. When I drink, I win some, I lose some. Don’t matter one way or the other. Last fight, some fool took my crack stem and wouldn’t give it back. But crack’s still good to me… And now I’m finally gettin’ to like being homeless. Best thing is, people gimme money sometimes for nothin’…

He yawned, stretched, rolled over so that he was lying on his suitcase. — I went up to North Carolina to work, he said. Spent three months cutting cabbages for $4.75 an hour. It was too much work for me. I swiped this knife here, which I use for self-defense.

You’d better sharpen that blade, Stan. Hey, what happened to the mayor?

Who?

Charles. That white guy.

Him, laughed Stanley. We got rid of him. Showed him he couldn’t hack it.

Where is he now?

He might still be in jail. Weapons charges, plus assault on an officer, plus battery. I think he had a death wish. He’s an arrogant, arrogant asshole. If your personality don’t fit his stereotype of somebody supposed to be how he wants you, then you just can’t get along with him.

And Celeste?

She left town, Henry. There was some trouble over her.

What kind of trouble?

You sure you want to hear about it?

Shoot.

Well, this guy named Ivan — I don’t think you met him — she let him shack up with her after you left. Her girlfriend Pat had just died of cirrhosis, and she was pretty lonely. You shouldn’t hold it against her, Henry, the shacking up, I mean, ’cause you didn’t stay with her…

No complaints on my end. Go on.

And this asshole named Lightning Bug had the hots for her, too. So one night when Ivan got sleepin’ right here on the Slab, about two mattresses down from me, Lightning Bug got him a gas can and poured gas on Ivan and burned him up. So Ivan woke up runnin’ around with fire on him like a stunt man. You shoulda seen him, Henry. It was just like the movies. Well, he screamed and screamed, just like a fuckin’ human torch. Then the firemen come and give him morphine. Lightning Bug got no right to do that. If he got some disagreement with Ivan, he coulda broke his leg with a pipe or somethin’…

Well, I see where Lightning Bug got his name,

Firebug more like!

So what happened to him?

We hopin’ he get life, Stanley said, and Tyler suddenly realized how, ghetto style, he sometimes left out inessential verbs now, as if any extra effort were too much. — Before the man come, Stanley went on, Lightning Bug run away, but then he come into the shelter where we eatin’ an everyone started shoutin’ right there at the dinner table: Murderer, murderer! He of course said he didn’t know that Ivan had died. Well, Henry, I lay right here watchin’ it! I couldn’t put his flames out! It took about ten minutes for him to burn up! Well, they arrested the bastard. When Celeste heard about it, she cried a long time. Then she left town. She mentioned your name more than once. I dunno if she was going to look for you or what…

Tyler said nothing. He remembered how Celeste had said to him: I was like holding in there for the past couple of years, but then I guess I got tired. I had to let go. And then I ended up here. I could feel myself going, but I was just so tired I didn’t care anymore…

He thought to himself: And now how tired must she be? I hate Irene!

Hey, guy, said another black man. What’s your name?

Tyler, said Tyler. Everybody calls me Henry. How’s the food down here?

Not bad. Pretty decent cooking at that shelter. A little bit of red tape before and after is all.

What the hell, said Tyler.

I been on the Slab here about a year, the other black man went on. I was under that freeway, too, but I never met you. But it’s good to remember old times, ain’t it, bro?

Sure, said Tyler dully.

I remember unity, the man said. But it was segregated type unity. It was all about those cliques, man. And when they closed us down, it was all political. They came in early one morning with paddy wagons and got us all out, drove us to the shelter. They let us take what we could carry. Then they burned down the shacks. By noon everything was gone. A lot of people, you know, if you bring ’em straight up off the street like that, they gonna rebel. Ellen was there at the time. She rebelled. They dragged her off screaming.