This One Time With Julia (2 page)

“Let’s play one quick game before you go.”

“Right now?”

“It’s on the way. You have time. And the courts will be empty.”

“Why now?”

“I think I might finally have an edge on you.”

“But I don’t have my shoes.”

“Just play in those. You always play in those. Nothing too intense. Just a fun, friendly game.”

I didn’t believe him. Basketball with Marcus was never fun or friendly. He had a way of making sure that both players felt bad almost all the time.

“I’m sorry, Marcus.” I gave him a friendly little bounce-pass. “I don’t want to get all sweaty. We’ll play another time.”

Life is so full of impossible things that I can’t understand. When I passed Marcus the basketball, he snarled and kicked it way over the fence into the swimming pool next door. I started to walk away. He ran after me and grabbed my collar.

“You’re so pathetic,” he said. “You’re just like his little puppy dog.”

“Good-bye, Marcus.”

“I have an important summer league game tomorrow. If you’re not here when I get back, I’m going to change the lock, and you can never live here again.”

“Okay. Good luck in your game.”

“I’m serious this time. I’m telling you now so there won’t be any confusion later. I want you to understand how deeply I oppose Alvin’s influence on you.”

“Thank you. And I promise not to forget it.”

“When are you going to start growing up, Joe?”

“Good-bye, Marcus.”

I walked about ten blocks to the McDonald’s. I like McDonald’s because it’s always the same incredible food, and they have pictures of their menu everywhere, and you can find out what everything costs just by watching TV. The one near our house was especially good, because they served breakfast all the way until eleven-thirty, and they hadn’t replaced the steak bagels with that nasty breakfast burrito yet, and they didn’t care if you hung out there all day and refilled your soda cup a hundred times.

It was getting so much hotter in the valley, and I was sweating by the time I arrived. McDonald’s is actually one of my favorite smells; it always makes me feel safe and warm and happy. I said hello to Francisco’s little brother, who hung out there all day too, reading this geometry book that he had. Then I said hello to Francisco, who was behind the counter salting some fries.

“Hi Joe.”

“Francisco,” I said. “Alvin’s coming back into town. We’re having dinner, just the two of us.”

“Your twin brother,” he said. “That’s great. That’s wonderful.”

Francisco never talked that much. I think he’d only been in L.A. for a year or two, and so he didn’t know that many words yet.

“We’re going to eat dinner, just the two of us.”

“Congratulations.”

“Maybe I’ll jump over the counter and check out the equipment.”

This was one of my favorite things to do, even though I’d only done it a couple of times. Francisco checked around a little, wondering where the manager was, and took a peek behind him at the girl squirting mayonnaise on a hamburger bun.

“Not right now,” he said. “I don’t want to get fired with Carmen watching.”

“You should kiss her. One day you should just kiss her right on the lips.”

“No. I can’t.”

I could always make Francisco blush. He was so in love with Carmen that he could barely even look in her direction.

“Just talk to her,” I said. “How will you ever know if you don’t try?”

It surprised me when I said that, because it’s not something I’d usually say. I must have been pretty excited if I was giving Francisco all this advice out of the blue.

Alvin showed up really late, and I’d already refilled my Coke three times by the time I saw him pull into the parking lot. I expected him to look exactly like he did the day he left Los Angeles, so happy and excited, with the pockets of his sweatshirt still filled with sand and his hair sticking up everywhere, as if falling in love had shocked him right in the heart. But now he looked just as different as he’d sounded on the phone—older and worried and tired. Even his car looked more beat up than I remembered it.

He had this big orange doggie with him now. I watched them from the window as Alvin walked all around the parking lot cleaning up after the dog with this plastic bag he had. He was really careful about it, very professional and thorough. But the dog just sat there watching him like it was bored, and it even stretched out on the ground at one point. I remember getting really angry and wanting to go over there and strangle the dog for not being more grateful for what Alvin was doing. And then suddenly I felt like jumping over the counter and running through the kitchen and out the back of the McDonald’s and never coming back, and letting Alvin wait for me all night, just to show him how I’d felt when he stuck me here with Marcus to go off and be in love in Tennessee. When that feeling went away, I cleared my tray and threw away my Coke and went outside to meet him. “Alvin,” I said. “Alvin, over here!”

I remember so well how he looked then, with the doggie lying next to him and the little baggie in his hand. He was all sunburned and peeling all over, like he’d been at the beach for a year. His green eyes had turned a little gray, and his hair was almost covering them. I don’t think he’d had a haircut since the last time I’d seen him. I found out later that he’d been driving for two days without sleeping, and I’d never seen him look so tired. But he smiled when he saw me, and he looked at me so carefully, and I could feel him having such important thoughts about me, and finally he asked, “Joe, how is it that you never change?”

“Do we hug each other now?”

He nodded. I hugged him. He smelled like a cough.

“How’s your book bag?” he asked.

“It’s good.”

“How did you do in the poker game today?”

“I have no idea.”

“There you go,” he said. “Boy, it’s good to see you, Joe.”

“Where did this dog come from?”

Alvin looked down at the dog, which was sprawled on the sidewalk, licking the slime running out of its nose. Alvin scratched the doggie underneath the chin. “He’s teaching me loyalty. A man can only learn true loyalty from a dog.”

“Where did you get him?”

“I found him down by the tracks, chasing trains. I knew he wouldn’t live long doing that, so I decided to adopt him. I thought it might be fun to train him. But it’s not the same as raising you.”

“Is he fast?”

“Pretty fast. Mostly he just loafs around. I’ve been calling him Max.”

“Are you hungry? Do we go inside and eat?”

“Not here,” said Alvin. “But good for you, Joe. You still don’t know McDonald’s is the worst possible place to eat food.”

I always tune out in the passenger seat of a car. I go into a little trance, and when I get to where I’m going, I have no idea how. Actually I’m like this almost every second of my life. I don’t know which way we drove that night. I can remember that we were on Ventura Boulevard as it was getting dark, and the street was all crowded with people and cars, and the air was blowing out of all these restaurants, carrying exciting smells into my nose, and I was starting to get hungry. On the way Alvin asked me about the imaginary conversations I’d been having with him. I told him it had only been a few times, when I especially missed him, and that maybe it happened because we were twins.

“What do we talk about?”

“We usually just joke around, remembering old times. Sometimes you try to get me to play pranks on Marcus, like put ice down his shirt while he’s sleeping. Is this a bad sign? Does it mean I’m going crazy?”

“No, no. In fact, good for you, Joe. I’m always happy to be the subject of insane hallucinations. What else do I say?”

I tried to think. It hadn’t happened for a while. “Sometimes you apologize to me.”

“For what?”

“For leaving, I guess. Sometimes you give me little puzzles that I never solve. On my first day of class, you convinced me to skip it and play poker instead.”

“What class? Since when do you take a class?”

“Marcus is making me study for the GED.”

“Marcus. Of course.” Alvin hated Marcus so much that it made him drive less carefully.

“If I don’t pass, he says I have to start high school all over again.”

“Or else?”

“He kicks me out into the street.”

“There’s Marcus in a nutshell,” said Alvin. “He thinks they teach the secrets of the world in school. How often do you go?”

“The casino is right on the way,” I said. “So far I haven’t gone at all.”

“God bless you, Joe. And now it makes no difference what Marcus thinks. You’re not stuck with him anymore.”

“Because you’re not leaving again.”

“Because we’re both leaving. Now, what kind of building is this?”

Somewhere in there we’d left the car, and we were walking on a pretty quiet street. Most of the other stores were closing up. Alvin had the doggie on a leash in one hand, and in the other he carried this little green cloth suitcase. I took a look into the window.

“I see tables. Chairs. Waiters.”

“And so?”

“It’s a restaurant.”

“Bingo. And next to the restaurant?”

“A motel.” It was so fun to be with him again.

“Jackpot,” said Alvin. “This is the White Palms Motel. Wanna say it?”

“The White Palms Motel.”

“Take a good look. Burn it in. This is where I’m staying.”

Alvin tied the doggie to a street lamp and we sat down at a table outside, in this little forest of metal heat lamps. The waitress brought us two big waters right away, which always impresses me, and I stared at the menu for a while, just for fun.

“Don’t worry, they have cheeseburgers,” said Alvin. “Now give me your opinion on this shirt.”

I took a good look at this very stiff plastic shirt he had on. It didn’t look comfortable at all, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “It reminds me of a Frisbee.”

“One hundred percent biosynthetic materials. Completely indestructible. You can wash it with shampoo, right in the sink, and it will dry in seven minutes, guaranteed. I bought it on my way down here in a store for people who always think the world is going to explode and we will have to live like futuristic savages. I bought one for you too. You want to try it on?”

“Okay.”

Alvin pulled another shirt out of his suitcase. This one was bright yellow, but otherwise exactly like his. “While I was paying for these shirts, the cashier gave me this real knowing look and told me, ‘Wise purchase, brother,’ and I was like, ‘You know it, brother,’ just so he wouldn’t stick me with some galvanized steel dagger he’d hammered out in his basement.”

The waitress came over and stood there until we finished talking. “Will you guys be ordering food?”

“We have to,” said Alvin. “If we don’t keep buying things, the whole economy will collapse. And it’s the only way you’ll let us sit here.”

“Do you have cheeseburgers?” I asked.

“We certainly do.”

“I’ll have one of those, please.”

“I forgot to read the menu,” said Alvin. “But I’d just like to eat some chicken that’s been cooked all the way through. You can surprise me with the details.”

The waitress looked worried. She didn’t hate Alvin yet, but I knew she might soon. She wrote on a pad for a while. “Any appetizers for you guys?”

“Do you have nachos?” Alvin wanted to know.

“Yes.”

“With guacamole?” I asked.

The waitress nodded and wrote it down, and I remember that she smiled at me before she went away. I liked her. I thought about becoming a waiter while I buttoned up my new shirt. It fit me pretty well, except for the sleeves, but I already wanted to be out of it. It felt like I was wearing armor. “I think my arms are too long.”

“Your arms have always been damn long. Do you still play basketball all day?”

“Some days.”

“Still better than Marcus?”

I thought it over. Lately I hadn’t seen Marcus play. “Probably.”

“Good for you,” said Alvin. “Good for you for squandering your gifts. Good for you for having insane dietary restrictions. Good for you for not being able to read. Good for you for carrying a cell phone no one ever calls. Good for you for hauling around the same book bag your whole life. Boy, I’ve missed you, Joe. Nobody changes less for the world than you do.” He got up and stood on his chair. This is actually how I picture Alvin whenever I think about him, looking down on me with his arms spread, swaying back and forth like a ghost.

“Gifts are made to be squandered,” he said. “We are meant to use them up and waste them, not to parlay them into a basketball scholarship. Never learn, never remember. Life is as short as a building on fire.”

He looked a little sick, and lost his balance climbing down. “I’m going to tell you my idea now,” he said. “The idea is that you and I will take these shirts and throw out all our other shirts, and then go sailing all around the world.”

“On a boat?”