The next day he puts several cats in the car and drives to a farm far from the highway, and lets them out. He drives away, smirking. One of the cats has the last laugh, though. Several days later it finds its way back to Gloria’s house. She has mourned for the cats, and now God is answering her prayers and has sent back a messenger. This messenger is going to tell her something about the other cats, but of course her cooing brings no response; the usual rubbing against her leg, a little more milk lapping than usual because of its long journey. So the piece of shit found its way home. He decides he will poison it.
*
They die like flies. The veterinarian doesn’t know what happened to the first cat. Would she like an autopsy done? Sacrilege! No. No autopsy. And when she goes back with a dead kitten he says, at first, that sometimes this just happens with little kittens, gives her a tissue to dry her eyes, sends them away. He is afraid to let her see this veterinarian again, though, because eventually the man will suspect poisoning. So when the next cat is found dead, by a neighbor, in the neighbor’s yard, Hale tells Gloria that their former veterinarian was no good — he didn’t even know why her poor cats died. They have to find another veterinarian. In fact, this is too traumatic for her. He will take the corpse to the veterinarian and report to her. She thanks him, weeping, and pulls money out of her pocket. And he gets in the car with the cat wrapped in a towel on the seat beside him and heads for the imaginary veterinarian, parking the car off the highway and running up a slope to put the bundle beside a big tree. Two to go, and then it will be just the two of them.
Driving home, he stops at the Golden Arches, eats a victory cheeseburger, french fries and a Coke. The Golden Arches are a rainbow, and at the end of it lies the Grand Canyon.
*
He puts the kitten in the cage. He puts the cage in his car. He drives to the Humane Society. They want a donation. He says that he doesn’t have the three dollars. The truth; but what a look the woman gives him. She accepts the animal wordlessly. Three dollars would make her say “Thank you” to exonerate him from guilt; for nothing, she just looks away.
Hale bides his time. In another week he can take the last kitten to the Humane Society, but he can’t take it away from Gloria yet. She has been clinging to it, at night, sitting up in the dark house, certain that there is a curse on it that she must try to ward off. The kitten has a sleek coat, bright eyes, it plays with a ball of yarn. But she is right in knowing that its health is no protection. She pities the dead cats because she thinks God is punishing her through them, and that’s not fair. He tells her that a vindictive God is nonsense. Maybe it was some virus that went through them … Gloria hangs on his words. She is so upset that he thinks about sparing Lucky, but he must have Gloria to himself, she must turn all her attention toward him so that their trip West will be wonderful. She must want to take pictures of him standing mighty on the edge of the Grand Canyon, instead of snapping cute little kitten pictures for her photograph album, already filled with pictures of the dead.
His sister calls, saying that she and Paula want his junk out of their house. He drives over that afternoon, taking a big laundry basket with him. He loads his clothing into it, and his book.
“I don’t know why you decided that of all the women in the world you had to take that poor broken-down maid,” Paula says.
“We love each other,” he says.
“You don’t. You never used to speak. Paula and I were afraid she was going to quit because there were bad feelings,” Mary says.
“Then you should be happy now.”
“I’m not happy. Are you doing this as a joke?”
“I’m in love with her.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
“She doesn’t want to get married. Her family is all fucked up. She has a lot of sisters who are getting divorced or just sitting around suffering. I don’t know.”
“She’s piggy,” Paula tells him.
“I know. But I love her.”
“That’s nice,” Paula says.
“It’s not nice. It’s a sick joke,” Mary says.
“We’re going to take a trip to the Grand Canyon,” Hale tells them.
That afternoon he decides that Lucky’s time is up. He puts Lucky in the car. Trapped, Lucky raises his paws to the window and looks out. The cat looks out the window until it gets where it’s going: the same farm where its friends disappeared, only Lucky has the extra good luck to be discharged in front of two children, who stare at Hale’s car as if they expect something. You should, little ones, he thinks, for I have brought you another kitty. Lucky is dropped out the window. The children stare. They will no doubt tell the story to their parents, exactly as it happened, and if their parents do not let them keep Lucky they will think their parents are cruel and they will hate them. The parents know that! Lucky Lucky.
*
Because of all the horrible things that have been happening, Gloria hasn’t spoken about the trip yet. That night, as he rocks her in his arms, he says that she must rest from this ordeal. They will go West, forget. Just the two of them. He puts his head on her big shoulder, lets it sink to her breast. A crackling noise; money in her brassiere. Yes, she says. She supposes.
*
On the second day of the trip, Gloria is in good spirits. They stop for lunch, and after lunch they sing. They were taught a lot of the same songs when they were children. He can’t talk to her about politics because she knows so little and he gets bored trying to fill her in, and she doesn’t like the music he likes on the radio, so usually they just hold hands or sing. He doesn’t even let go of her hand to shift gears. He smiles at her often, marveling at those tiny feet, crossed so demurely, and at her large body. It’s good she has money and a car in good condition, because they have to stop often for food — she’s always hungry — and he couldn’t afford the highway prices, and his car never would have made it.
They stop at a motel with a pool, and she is as excited as a child. She hurries to get undressed and races out of the room while he’s still putting on his bathing trunks, and when he walks across the parking lot to the pool he sees Gloria at the top of the blue ladder, her hips spread over the sides; he is in time to see her splash into the pool. He takes a picture of her with his Instamatic as she surfaces, her thick hair untamed by the water.
They sit on chairs by the pool, sipping Coke from a can. The water dries on the tops of her huge breasts and is replaced by sweat. She drinks two Cokes and he drinks one. It is her idea to ask the owner of the motel the name of a good restaurant, and she goes to the desk while he’s showering. He sings in the shower. A delicious dinner! The Grand Canyon! Tum-de-dum, he sings, a little tune he learned from her. He steps out of the shower, wraps a towel around himself, and hears faintly, above the air conditioning, crying.
Gloria is crying. She has her arms crossed in front of her, protecting herself, sitting in front of the air conditioner and crying. Hale rushes to her, and she puts her head on his shoulder — he is freezing in front of the damn air conditioner — and speaks a single word: “Cat.” She has decided that the man she just talked to was one of her cats, reincarnated. She says this because he looked so much like Mister Tom. Really he did; he had Mister Tom’s eyes. The way Mister Tom had one weak eye that went out of focus … and the man said, after he told her about restaurants, that she looked familiar. Hale said that people who ran places like motels were always thinking they saw familiar faces just because they saw so many people, that of course it was not Mister Tom. She told him to go talk to the man, to watch his eyes grow weak, drift away. But that’s not uncommon! She won’t accept it; the motel owner is Mister Tom, her own Mister Tom, and fate has guided them to this particular motel. She weeps.