Same story in lingerie. She didn’t even slow down. It didn’t matter, though-I stopped anyway. I parked in second gear. I picked out two pairs of panties in a hurry-shiny ones-and caught up with her a few seconds later.
“Look,” I said. “I got you size twenty-four. Nice, huh?”
She didn’t turn around. Fine. I took the panties and threw them into a bin of frozen food as we went by. Worst thing that’ll happen, I told myself, is that in a few hours the night will fall, and she will have kept her oath. I saw that I was going to have to bear with it. I slowed down and stopped in front of the paint with a beatific smile. As I was perusing the labels, I heard what sounded like the flapping of birds’ wings behind my back, followed by a small collision. I lifted my head up. Betty and I were the only ones in the aisle; she was standing farther down, looking at the books. Everything seemed calm. The books were arranged on five or six revolving stands in single file, just in front of the computer-memory stoves and microwave ovens. Despite the presence of a lovely girl in the area, there were no birds flying around. Still, I could have sworn… I lowered my eyes, looking at a can of acrylic one-coat, and the flapping noise started again. There were two noises this time-one following the other in some sort of aerial ballet. Indeed, such a loving mysterious prologue, the shadow of which I might have surprised, had I not first heard them splatter against yon far wall.
I turned toward Betty. She had just picked out a book-a fat one. She flipped through three pages, then threw it angrily over her head. This one didn’t go too far. It fell almost at my feet, then went sliding across the center aisle. I decided not to pay attention. I tilted my paint can and started reading the instructions calmly, while books went flying in all directions.
When I’d had enough I stood up. I picked up my paint can and put it into the cart. For a moment our eyes met. It was hot in the store. I would have loved something to drink just then. She shook her hair all around her, then grabbed the revolving stand in front of her and pushed it with all her might. It turned over with a horrendous crash. She overturned the others without breaking stride, then took off running. I stayed there, nailed to the floor. When I got my wits back, I turned the shopping cart around and walked away in the opposite direction.
A guy in a salesman’s coat showed up, running after me. He was so upset I thought he had the devil on his heels. He was red as a bloody poppy. He grabbed my arm.
“My God,” he said. “What just happened over there?”
First I took his hand off me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Why don’t you go take a look?”
He didn’t know if he should let me go or survey the disaster area-I could see he was really torn between the two. His eyes were wide, and he was biting his lip, incapable of making a decision. I thought he was going to start whimpering. Sometimes things happen in life that are so horrible you have every right to scream your rage to high heaven, to bewail your helplessness. I pitied the guy. Perhaps he had been born there, raised from childhood in the store itself, passed his whole life there. Perhaps it was all he knew of the world. If everything worked out he could stay there another twenty years.
“Listen,” I said. “Take it easy. It’s not the end of the world. I saw it all-nothing’s broken. Some little old lady tipped the book stands over, but there’s no real damage. You’ve had a shock, that’s all…”
He managed to give me a pale smile.
“Yeah? Think that`s all?”
I gave him a wink.
“Sure. You’re fine.”
I made my way to the cash registers. I paid the bill to a made-up girl who bit her nails. I smiled at her, waiting for the change. She didn’t react. I was the five-thousandth guy who’d smiled at her like that since the beginning of the week. I got my money and split. In spite of everything, the sun was still shining when I came out. It was a good thing, too. If there’s one thing I hate it’s being abandoned by everybody at the same time.
Betty was waiting for me. She was sitting on the hood of the car like in the fifties. I couldn’t remember what shape car hoods must have been in during those years, but it served them right. And I didn’t care. I didn’t want her crumpling the metal. If we paid a little attention, we could make the car last till the year 2ooo. Fifties, my ass. I wasn’t about to start wearing pleated pants big enough for three people, with suspenders that make them ride up your nuts.
“Been waiting long?” I asked.
“No, just warming my buns.”
“Try not to scratch the paint job getting down. The guy at the garage just polished it…”
She said she wanted to drive. I gave her the keys and put the things in the trunk, reveling in the warm air, momentarily transfixed in space by the supernatural stillness of things-their intensity. I grabbed a package of spaghetti and heard it all break in my hand, like glass, but I didn’t kid myself-who ever heard of a guy getting touched by grace in a shopping center parking lot, especially with a girl drumming her fingers on the steering wheel and fifty-seven bottles of things left to unload from the shopping cart, beer included?
I sat next to her and smiled. She jammed the motor a little before getting it started. I opened my window. I lit a cigarette. I put my glasses on. I leaned forward to turn on some music. We started down a long street, the sun slamming through the wind shield. Betty was like a golden statue with half-closed eyes. Guys were stopping on the sidewalk to watch us go by, cruising at twenty miles per hour. What did they know, the poor fools where were they at? I let the air run over my arm-it was almost warm. The radio played nontoxic music. It was all so rare that I took it for a sign. I thought that the moment had come at last, that we were going to make up with each other there in the car, and finish the trip laughing. At first I had actually thought there were birds in the shopping center, no fooling.
I took some of her hair from the headrest and played with it.
“It’d really be dumb if you kept pouting all day…”
I’d already seen this scene in The Invasion of the Body Snatchers-the girl at the wheel was none other than one of those soulless creatures. Betty was wholly unmoved by the hand I was holding out to her, not budging one muscle of her face. I wished that someday some girl would explain it all to me-why women do that, and how they account for all the wasted time. It’s a little too easy to criticize people who ask only that they be left where they are-anybody can do that.
“Hey, you hear me?”
No response. I was wrong. I’d been fooled by a ray of sunshine and a light breeze. I’d been a chump. The last words fell from my mouth like stale candy. It must have been around four o’clock. There were no cars in front of us. I was feeling understandably edgy. After the business in the shopping center, was it too much to ask that she give it a rest? There was an intersection with a green light on the other side. It had been green for quite a while-an eternity, I’d say. By the time we went through, it was bright red.
So she went through a red light without batting an eye. So I told her that if she kept that up we could walk home, and so that’s where we left off. I waited there resolutely. She got out of the car and held the door open as if it were me who had screwed up. “I am not getting back in this car,” she said.
“No kidding,” I said.
I slid over behind the wheel. She crossed the curb to the sidewalk. I put it in gear and took off up the street.
After a few minutes, I realized I was in no hurry. I made a detour over to the garage. The guy was sitting at his desk with his legs crossed, hidden behind a newspaper. I knew him, he owned the place. It was he who had sold me the Mercedes. It was nice out, it smelled like spring. There was an open pack of gum on his desk-a brand I liked.