*
“You had quite a night,” the babysitter says cheerfully. The babysitter and Sammy are awake. David is still sleeping. Big Bear envies David.
“I didn’t know I left the milk bottle out,” the babysitter says apologetically.
“Actually, we came home a while ago and some friends had milk.”
The babysitter looks at the milk glasses. She also sees the one that has been thrown against the dining-room wall.
“Good-night,” Big Bear says, and climbs the stairs. Since they did not smoke, Estelle will have no ashtrays to empty and will join him soon. Not that he really cares. He is so tired he’d sleep with the spacemen. Except Fred … Jesus, it sure is good they loaded him out of the house, Big Bear thinks. If I had irritated them, they might have left him. Big Bear is glad that he only has Sammy and David. If they had tried for a girl, like Estelle wanted, it might have been retarded.
Big Bear falls into bed, with visions of Fred. It rhymes: bed, Fred. Big Bear falls asleep.
*
There has been a spaceship sighting in Reno, Nevada, and that’s where Estelle wants to go.
“Estelle, you heard them say that there are a lot of other spacemen. Any of them could have flown over Reno, Nevada.”
“We haven’t taken a trip in years. The boys should see some of the country.”
“Aren’t you going to summer school? What happened to your plans?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I paid a year’s tuition. I’d like to have a talk about why you’re quitting.”
“Something disgusting happened.”
“What?”
“I want to go to Reno,” Estelle says. “Will you take me or won’t you?”
“The spaceship won’t still be there.”
“There have been sightings all around Reno.”
“We’re going to take the boys to Reno and sit in a motel waiting to hear rumors of spaceships?”
“It’s my birthday,” Estelle says. “You have to please me on my birthday, and I want to take a trip.”
“What do you mean, I have to please you on your birthday?”
“I suppose you don’t have to be nice to me if you don’t want to, Bear. Excuse my presumption.”
“I already am nice to you. That night with the spacemen I let you act like a jackass. Anybody else would have straightened you out.”
“How gallant of you not to criticize me in front of my friends.”
“Friends? You met them once.”
“Of course no one would want to be my friend,” Estelle says. “Excuse me.”
“I didn’t say they weren’t your friends. I did say that. I don’t know. Let’s forget this, okay?”
“Let’s go to Reno, Nevada.”
“Oh, leave me alone,” Big Bear says.
*
Big Bear meant to avoid this card shop, but it’s so convenient, and he doesn’t have the time to look all around for another place to get Estelle’s birthday card. The woman will probably not be there anyway.
The woman is there. She finds Big Bear as he stands browsing through the Relative Birthday group of cards. She asks if she can help him.
“No, thanks,” Big Bear says.
“This is a nice one,” the saleswoman says, taking a big pink card down.
Big Bear looks. There is a plastic window, in the shape of a heart, through which a blond lady is visible. “My Darling” it says across the top of the card.
“I don’t like that one,” Big Bear says.
“Then look at this one.” She hands Big Bear a blue card with bluer velvet bluebirds on it. The bluebirds trail a ribbon that spells “Happy Birthday, Darling” as it unrolls.
“Okay,” Big Bear says. “Fine.”
The card costs one dollar and fifty cents. For a card! It takes the woman a long time to slip it carefully into the bag. It takes her a long time to count out his change. He is never going to come to this card shop again.
“Thank you, sir,” the saleswoman says, with her usual ironic smile.
Big Bear holds the bag tightly and makes the mistake of crushing the velvet bird.
*
“You’re wrecked. You going to work like that?”
“I couldn’t work there if I wasn’t wrecked.”
“You should avoid getting wrecked sometime and try it.”
“You try it if you’re so curious. You can have my job.”
“I don’t want a job.”
“Then that means I have to have one. So don’t criticize me for getting wrecked.”
“You’re wrecked.” The saleswoman’s boyfriend laughs. He is also wrecked.
*
“Look at this one, look at this,” Bobby says.
His friend’s face turns red. “Put the things away,” his friend says.
“Look, look, this one was Estelle’s idea.”
“I’m sure.”
“No, I swear. She said this was a craze on campus in the sixties.”
“This was something they did at college?”
“And look at this one. This is Bill pretending he’s going to work. Look at it!”
“I’ve seen these things a dozen times already. Put those disgusting things away,” his friend says.
“I’ll put them away, but you’ve got to see the expression on her face in this one.”
“I’m not likely to see her face in this series.”
The spaceman’s friend has just made a witty remark. Bobby appreciates it and starts laughing uncontrollably. He’d be doing that even if his friend weren’t there, though. These pictures really kill him.
*
“Now the Air Force is even admitting that it’s tied up with them,” Big Bear says from his La-Z-Boy reclining chair.
“What do they say?”
“I just told you. All those sightings over Nebraska. The Air Force is coming out and admitting it.”
“What do they say, Bear?”
“You love this subject, don’t you? You love to talk about the spacemen.”
“Who brought it up?” Estelle says.
“I did. I know you love the subject,” Big Bear says.
*
“These bluebirds sing a happy tune. They say that you are mine …”
She is convulsed with laughter, that crazy, wiped-out laughter with no tears accompanying it. The eyes get wider and wider-wide enough to pour tears, but the laughter is all that comes.
“Why don’t you stop memorizing the cards? Just take your shoes off and relax.”
“It had velvet bluebirds on the front with a blue ribbon and a blue background, and it said ‘These bluebirds sing …’”
“You’re going to lose your job the first time you do a wiped-out thing like this with a customer.”
“The bluebirds! The fucking bluebirds!”
*
“What the hell was that?”
“Probably hit ducks again. Remember the time we took off through a whole flock of them?” Bobby says.
“Disgusting,” Donald says, but he is looking at Fred and not thinking about possible dead ducks.
*
“What are you mad at me for?” the little boy asks. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything. You got your soft drink. Drink it.”
“You couldn’t make the machine work either,” the little boy says.
“It was broken,” his mother says.
“Then what are you mad about?”
“I’m mad because you just add to the confusion. I want to get the groceries and go home and put them away. All right? Sit back and finish your drink.”
It is just another day in Big Bear City, California.
Victor Blue
Monday
Took monthly leaf cuttings to send to her friends in the violet association. Other than that, all routine: turning on fluorescent light, usual watering from dish beneath the pot. Store delivered decorative pots. Now the inside pots must be carefully lifted so that none of the delicate leaves snap. A tricky business. My fingers must not touch the leaves. The clay pots must be centered exactly in the decorative pots, then misted from a distance of two feet. Mrs. Edway has inspected them carefully to be certain there are no bruised leaves. After unjust complaint yesterday, put ice water on the violets today to get even. Wilted a little. Shook my head with her as she called the violets “temperamental.” Annoyed me by talking about too many articles she’d read in the violet association publication. Made note to discard next issue of the magazine in post office when I pick up the mail. She calls the mails “unreliable.” She has been crankier than usual. I suspect her pain is worse, but after years of marriage I know better than to ask. Mrs. Edway has always had her secrets.