John Domini - Highway Trade and Other Stories

Anthony Marcella was pouring himself another. Stanley, chuckling, admitted he didn’t know anything about Hollywood. “Down there, man, I wouldn’t know how to get anything done.”

“You eat people alive,” the father said. “You just wait for them to get stuck, all it takes is a minute. And then you eat them alive.”

More laughter. Nonie became aware of her goosebumps. They snagged her leotard, the talk shredded what was left of her sanctuary. Stanley was saying exactly, man, exactly: he didn’t know about Hollywood, but he knew the feeling.

“Take myself, I moved out here because this is supposed to be just the opposite kind of place. And okay, it is. The Willamette Valley, man, it’s the nicest, most laid-back place you could want. And I’ve got my gig, I mean, I’m a professional photographer. I’ve got my love of my life here, Princess Summerfallwinterspring.”

“Stuntzie—“ Nonie said.

“But then, man, then…suddenly I’m stuck.” He was a shadow back there, a ghost. He needed to get out of here even worse than she did. “I mean it, I’m stuck. You know before this girl graduated, last June, I had to carry her whole tuition? Yeah. And then she wanted to take some workshops this summer, I had to pay for that too.”

“Stanley!”

But there was a tug at her arm. Posey. Turned towards the projector, the little girl’s face was garish. The stamps wove insanely across her nose and smile, Nonie thought she saw blood. Meantime Anthony Marcella was giving Stanley more rope: I hear you, man. “Ancient history, man. You start out the strong man and you end up the clown.”

“Exactly, man, exactly. And I mean, I’m not somebody’s father. I’m not somebody’s bankroll. I’m a rebel , man. Or at least I was a rebel when I came out here. But then somehow I wound up holding the bankroll. Somehow in this wonderful laid-back place I wound up with like a bankroll in my teeth and, and claws instead of hands. I don’t even know who I am.”

“You know who I wish was here?” Nonie said. “I wish Alden was here.”

She’d had to shout. Tonto’s motor was going again. The boy rumbled into the projector beam, the leather was seared with yellow and brown; the mother ordered him out. But they weren’t going to stop Nonie this time. If Stanley didn’t realize how much he was losing here — talking mean was the next thing to going crazy — well she’d get him out herself. She’d get them all out herself.

“I wish Alden were here.” Who cared that she’d always been careful to use the nickname with Stanley? The way she’d felt when the drug first hit, the giddy surge to freedom, she had to get back to that. “Alden wouldn’t just sit around, he wouldn’t just sit around and glide around. He’d burn through the surfaces and he’d pull us all through with him.”

“Nonie, baby…”

“He would.” Waves of isolation spiraled from the faceless shapes on the couch. But she’d had it with their bullying, she faced the screen.

“Look at this slide here now, is this still Pompeii? Alden could, he could really take you out of this world once he started on a slide like that. I mean with all those naked dancers on the wall, my God, the men even have erections , God!” She had to get the kids out of here at least. These people were corrupt. “And those, those two things down in the front, in the cages. What are they, some kind of ancient Roman monster?”

“A husband and wife,” Anthony Marcella said.

“What? Those two like, mummy-things, in the cages?”

“A husband and wife,” the father barked. “What’s the matter, don’t they look like a husband and wife?”

Nonie flexed her feet. The draft along the floor sustained her energy.

“This was their bedroom, kid.”

“Tony, honey—“

“No Luce, no. We can all learn something here. Lots of Romans had porno murals in their bedrooms, kid. And these two, that’s where they went to hide when the lava came.”

The children had started squabbling too. Tonto rumbled into his sister, Posey hugged her stamp box to her knees. It was a tank going after a fortified bunker. Unquestionably this family needed what Nonie could give them. They needed her to convert their energy. Even the naked grotesques on the screen shouldn’t hold them up once she got them to feel the power of the drug’s remaining unused space, the vacuum rush to both freedom and safety at once.

Stanley kept trying. He said Nonie was right about one thing: old Ollie could really do a riff on a slide like that. “Stanley, no, no what I’m saying is—“

“Old Ollie could probably do a dance on a slide like that. One look and he’d see all the things he was into. He’d see LSD in there. He’d, he’d see self-destruction.”

“No no, Stanley. The slide’s beside the point.”

“Christ, the guy had an idea for every weird thing he ever did in his life.”

“The slide is nothing . Listen to me, everybody, a picture like that doesn’t shock me. Not at all, not after the kind of things Alden taught me.”

Stanley made some small sound, a drink going down the wrong way, an obscenity.

“Listen . Earlier this summer I worked with a real dance company, I mean a big famous one from New York. And compared to what Alden found out about that company from New York, a picture like that is nothing.” She had the truth on her side. If she kept talking it wouldn’t be long: they’d all get to say anything they wanted. “I mean, Stanley, you were off doing all those weekend assignments, you never knew the half of it. Alden — I couldn’t believe the things he found out.”

“You guys,” Stanley said, “you should know something. Nonie here didn’t start dancing till it was almost too late.”

“Alden just went out with those people a few times, they hung out at the Hilton and had a few drinks. But I couldn’t believe it. He found out everything.”

“Coming from a hick town like Brownsville, see. Nonie didn’t start till college. She’s kind of bitter.”

“Alden found out everything about these people, Stanley, you never even knew. There were, there were eleven women in the company and Alden found out five of them were gay.”

“Christ,” Anthony Marcella said, “the guy sounds like a genius.”

“But listen, listen!” The laughter wasn’t the only distraction. Beside her, Tonto had backed his sister into the heater’s grating, and their squabble was getting nasty. You’re the dummy here. No, you are .

“Listen. Here I’d been slaving along, dreaming that this workshop might finally get me free of all the dumb bad luck of my life. I mean a company from New York, they should be in control, right? Like what you were saying earlier Stanley, about those old Leary Ginsberg people — dancers from New York should be in control all the time too, just like Leary Ginsberg. Right? So I was dreaming of this workshop. And then the people show up, the real thing, and Alden finds out they’re even worse off than me. I mean Alden tells me they’re crazy. They’re nasty, and they’re crazy.”

Lucy had started something with her husband. First whispering, now louder: C’mon, big boy, lighten up. At least change the slide.

“But listen, listen. When I really learned something was when Alden told me about the suicide. I was shocked. Everyone in the company was whispering about this poor man back in New York who’d jumped off a roof.”

“Nones,” Stanley said, “could we talk a minute?”

“The suicide guy, he was one of the gay ones, of course. Gay and anorexic. I mean, I’ve had some problems but not like that, not like an IV right through the chest.”