I’m so big. I should be strong.
His life was in this room. His dreams, no matter how comatose, still beeped a stubborn rhythm, still danced on the crazy red letters and numbers.
Go.
“Come into the office,” Joe said in a sweet, low chant. Joe got up from his chair and gestured inside.
Sammy nodded at Eric. Go in, make a deal.
Him too? He also wants me to stay. Why? Guilt? Or fear?
Leave. You don’t need them, Nina had said.
But she knew nothing about it. She didn’t know Eric’s weakness, she didn’t know his fear.
I am so big. So much bigger than them. Why can’t I be strong?
A THOUSAND-PIECE setting of China shattered. A hundred drawers of silverware crashed.
Cover yourself. Close up.
Diane was in the womb again. Legs tight, arms folded, eyes shut. She spun in the dark sea and prayed to be born.
Let me live through this mistake. I’ll be good. I won’t make any more errors.
The angry noise, with a final crash, stopped.
She stayed covered, closed, and awaited judgment.
There was no light. Her eyes saw nothing. The world was soft.
Get out quickly. Death waits here for you.
Out!
The floor cut and crunched. There was a little opening, just a small way out. Squeeze through. I won’t fit. I’m too big. I can’t get out!
Go quickly — death wants you. Get out!
I’m alive. This is a car. I’m alive. This is the window. Get out! Mom’s car will explode.
And she was out — rolling on the earth’s mattress, rolling on the unmade bed. But there was no light anywhere.
You idiot — you’re blind now. You killed your eyesight. You stupid, stupid, careless girl. You killed—
Open your eyes. You’ll see. Everything you want will be there; open your eyes and you will see the world you want.
This is grass. That’s the sound of the car engine. Just open your eyes and you will live.
She let go of fear. She opened her heart, stretched her legs, released the grip on her soul. The stars floated up to the ceiling, the blue-black dome of the world, white lights everywhere, jammed with life, crowded with cold confidence, millions of lights, endlessly signaling: we are here for you. We are with you.
The goddamned car, that wreck, may blow up.
She forced herself to her feet. Her legs didn’t have enough string in them. She fell forward, like a stupid infant.
Obviously they’re broken. Probably you’re dead. You’re dying and you don’t know it. Your arrogance is a joke. To think you could survive that crash. Well, if you get yourself to a hospital, maybe there’s a chance. Better get your purse from the car to pay the bill.
She walked again without remembering how.
But where’s the car door? The wheels were in the way. Why did they put the wheels like that? In the way of the doors? What a stupid car.
It’s upside down. My God, it’s upside down. Get away from it, it’ll blow up. Survive the crash and die for your purse.
But they won’t take me without my Blue Cross card. They’ll let me die. Concussion probably. Maybe shock. Aren’t you supposed to sit down now? You’ll probably die because you’re walking.
You’re very tired. Go back to bed. Have a different dream.
I’m sorry, Ma. I thought I should be home with Peter and Byron. I’m sorry I love them. I could be happy. I could go to the stars and float, but I love them — I have to have a Blue Cross card so they’ll love me.
Okay?
“Are you all right?” a face said.
I’ve never been right in my life. Maybe my purse was thrown from the car. See, if I didn’t need Peter and Byron, I wouldn’t have a purse.
“Is there anyone else in the car?”
“Purse.”
“Sit down here. You don’t look God.”
Of course not. No one is God. People make the world what it is: bright stars or unmade beds. People decide that even without their purse. Because they love. That’s why. They love and so they die.
I’ve got to stop crying. This policeman won’t take me to the hospital if I’m crying.
Big girls don’t cry because they lose their purse; they go to Saks and buy a new one.
“No one’s in there. Here, just sit. What happened?”
Don’t tell him. If you don’t tell him you made a mistake, he’ll never know. But please, please stop crying!
“An ambulance is on the way. I’ll get a blanket from the car. Don’t move, okay? You got that? Don’t move.”
I hear Byron. He’s coming. He peed in the bed again. Well, I’m staying asleep. Peter can deal with it.
I’m not needed.
Just go to sleep. In the morning, I’ll be different. I’ll go to Saks and get a new mother.
“MAMA!” LUKE said. He jumped in front of her, arms out, grappling for her love, “Mama!”
She took his long body — the feet banged against her hips — and hugged him. Luke still fit onto her body, a perfectly designed accessory. His head rested on her shoulder, his face into her neck.
“Eric?” she called. She had worried; she had felt wrong all day.
“I’m here,” he said from the living room. An admission, and not a happy one.
She carried Luke with her. Eric sat on the couch, staring at a tape of He-Man playing on the television.
“What happened?” she asked.
“It’s over,” he said. “They’re all against me. There’s nothing I can do.” He gestured at the television and laughed. “Market was down today, down fifty-three points. Tom would have made money. Fuck him.”
“Eric!” She glanced at Luke to warn Eric about his language.
“Sorry. I’ll shut up.”
“What happened?”
“Your father — Joe called your father while I was out. Your father fired me. Joe is generously offering to keep me on under the old terms.”
“He what?” Luke said. He smiled as if Daddy must be making a joke. “Grandpa did what?”
“It’s an expression,” Nina began.
“Nothing, Luke,” Eric said harshly. “It’s nothing.”
“Sounds like something,” Luke said. He kicked his legs. “Let me down.”
“Okay,” Nina said. Luke’s body slid down her, fireman on a pole to the rescue.
“How could Grandpa fire you?” Luke asked Eric. “What does that mean? You’re not on fire.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this,” Eric said to Nina.
Not talking about it is how you get to be like Father, Nina thought. She was angry. She stood on a hill and saw the hurt and the rage from a distance, in the past and in the future — the dark, swirling cloud of her family rushing to blot out her patch of sunlight, to rain on her happy meadow. “To fire,” she said to Luke, “means to stop someone from doing a job you’ve asked them to do. Like, if you pay somebody to do something, and you don’t want them to go on doing it, and you tell them to stop — that’s firing them. It has nothing to do with putting them on fire.”
Eric laughed. Not happily: he groaned. “Grandpa didn’t think I was making good bets with his money.”
“Well …” Luke put his hand out, palm up. “Well … it’s his money, right?”
“Actually, it was given to him by his grandfather,” Nina said. “But it’s Grandfather Tom’s now.”
“I see!” Luke hopped on one foot. “It was given to him and now he’s supposed to give it to Daddy.”
“We really shouldn’t be talking about this,” Eric said, but he smiled at Luke.
“Why not?” Nina asked Eric. “Why not? You didn’t do anything wrong. So Joe called up and Tom just let him do—”
“Yep,” Eric said.
“Did you call Tom?”
“No. I left the office without saying anything. Joe gave me a choice of staying on the old terms or leaving immediately. I didn’t answer him. I just left. I was a fool! I should have told your father first. I should have left a year ago when I was hot!” Eric lifted the cushions of the couch in his big hands. They came up as if they were small pillows and he flopped them down like an excited infant unable to control his motions.