The Bones of Old Carlisle (31 page)

Smiley laughed the same strange panting way he did when Karl
Arrowroot hit him over the head with the desiccated dog body.
“Your question was translated strangely,” Smiley said by way of
apology. “It came to me in the syntax used to request a food item, but
the words were sacred.”
“Sacred?” Arrowroot repeated. “I thought you didn’t believe in
God.”
“We don’t,” Smiley said, “The word I used doesn’t imply a god.
You must not have a word that matches.”
“Then what does sacred mean?” Arrowroot asked. He had decided to
brave Highway 6, Heligaux’s ugliest street, with the idea he’d get
home more quickly. But it was packed with cars today and progress was
slow, passing through traffic lights that were maddeningly
unsynchronized. Gotta see if someone can fix that, he thought to
himself.
“Want is what we think of as most sacred, or holy,” Smiley
replied.
“Holy?” Arrowroot asked. “Interesting word choice for an atheist.
And what the hell does want have to do with anything?”
“It has to do with everything,” Smiley said. “What is more
important than want?”
Arrowroot hit another light, next to National Microscopy, and
noticed that Art was there now.
“Hey, gonna make a quick detour,” he said, wheeling his car into
the parking lot. “Got someone you need to meet.”
Art greeted them at the door, looking curiously at Smiley.
“This is my friend, Nebuchadnezzar Smiley,” Arrowroot said. “His
friends call him Nebby.”
Art and Smiley shook hands and exchanged a few words about the
weather, which Smiley seemed to be grateful for, while Arrowroot wrote
a check. “There you go, plus a little extra for overtime,” he said.
“Can we get those crystals back from you now? Mr. Smiley has an
interest in them.”
Art retrieved them from the back room and handed them directly to
Smiley, who peered at them intently, his mouth open.
Art put his hands on his hips and looked at Arrowroot. “Okay, can
you tell me anything more about them?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” Arrowroot replied. “You see, Nebby here’s a visitor
from another planet. Ain’t that right, Nebby?”
Smiley looked up, glanced from Arrowroot to Art, and then looked
back at the crystals.
“They make crystals and stuff on Nebby’s planet,” Arrowroot
continued. “It’s not anything from earth, but the story, that came
from that girl – Adele – straight from Adele’s head. Don’t ask me how,
it’s all extraterrestrial as hell. Ain’t that right, Nebby?”
Smiley ignored him this time, and Art grinned. “I figured it was
something like that,” he said. “Great story. Damn.”
As soon as they were back in Arrowroot’s convertible and enmeshed
in traffic, Arrowroot laughed.
“So does it make you nervous when I spill the beans on
everything?” Arrowroot asked. “You know, tell everyone your whole
story?”
Smiley looked at Arrowroot but said nothing, so Arrowroot
answered the question for him. “No, it doesn’t,” he said. “Because no
one believes it.”
“You are a fantastically believing race,” Smiley said. “You
believe everything. Therefore, you believe nothing. You cannot tell
the difference among any information. And yet, you have made all
this.” Smiley pointed three fingers at Arrowroot’s car and the street
and cars and buildings around them, in a gesture that seemed awkward
but probably wasn’t where he came from. “You are like two different
races, knowing absolute truth and believing utter nonsense, in the
same culture. In the same mind.”
“Huh,” Arrowroot countered. “We’ve figured out a thing or two.”
Smiley inclined his head in what appeared to be a nod of
agreement. “It deserves further study,” he said. “Your kind is in a
strange place. I’m not sure if we experienced a parallel age. If so,
it was certainly brief. And dangerous.”
Arrowroot turned left, glad to leave Highway 6, and entered the
tree-lined streets and genteel neighborhoods of High Heligaux.
“You see, that was Traxie, where we just were,” Arrowroot said.
“I used to live there. Born and raised there. Poorest part of town.
Then I moved on up to High Heligaux, almost 20 years ago. But Traxie
stayed with me. It stayed in me.”
“I don’t understand,” Smiley said.
“Okay, see, if you’re gonna try to tell me what’s what, you need
to know some things first,” Arrowroot said. “There were times, you
know, growing up in Traxie, I was so hungry, I’d eat out of a big
green dumpster. I’d put my brothers to bed, then I’d sneak out, go to
the backside of a little tavern, grab the food they’d thrown out, and
a newspaper if I could find it, and I’d eat and read. Just eat and
read.”
“Did you have caretakers?” Smiley asked.
“Just a mother, but she was—“ Arrowroot said, pausing. “She was,
you know, a prostitute. Did odd jobs too, clerking and whatnot, but,
you know — So, you got prostitutes where you’re from? You got people’s
momma’s who are being a hooker?”
Smiley looked at Arrowroot, one eyebrow raised.
“So there’s some want for you there,” Arrowroot said. “Nothing
sacred about it. Just a buncha men with my momma, payin’ her. And
their sons. I went to school with their sons and daughters, and some
of ‘em knew. Okay? This fella, he called my momma a hooker, so I
kicked his ass. I didn’t want to, but he called her a hooker. Nothing
holy there.”
“Did you—“ Smiley began, but Arrowroot cut him off.
“His name was Leif, and his daddy was rich. He’s a friend of mine
now. He told me once, he told me, ‘cause I up and asked him, why he
used to hate me so much. He said, he didn’t hate me ‘cause my momma
was a hooker. He didn’t hate me ‘cause his father was seein’ my momma.
Here’s what he said. He said, ‘Karl, my father loved your momma. I
know he did. And she didn’t love him back. She just took his money.
And if that could happen to my daddy, if he could love a woman from
Traxie who didn’t love him back, then Traxie was bigger than him, and
if was bigger than him, it was bigger than me.’”
Smiley nodded. Arrowroot couldn’t tell if he understood or not.
“That’s my street,” Arrowroot said, pointing. “But let’s keep
driving. I got something to ask you.”
Arrowroot wound his car up through the shady streets of High
Heligaux, then beyond them and down again, along a road that snaked
against the mountain, to the wilds of First Acre. He nor Smiley spoke,
Arrowroot lost in thought and Smiley gazing around, taking in the day
and the trees and the beauty.
When he reached First Acre, Arrowroot pulled his car to the side
of the path and turned it off. Before them lay the clearing that had
been the first settlement of Heligaux, sunlight breaking through the
trees here and there, illuminating the crumbled brickwork that still
rose from a thick layer of grass and weeds.
“This is what they call First Acre,” Arrowroot said. “Oldest part
of town, mostly forest. Expert Manifold, good company, wants to build
a little plant here. Just 10 acres. Hell, there’d still be like a
thousand acres left.”
A couple emerged from the woods at the other end of the clearing
and approached, a baby strapped to the man’s back. As they passed,
Arrowroot waved but stopped talking, and they waved back. Perhaps they
recognized Arrowroot, or Mr. Smiley – both men’s pictures had been in
the paper often enough lately – but they just glanced politely and
continued on their way.
“So I’m mayor here, I guess you knew that,” Arrowroot said.
“Wanted to help out, bring jobs, bring in tax money, all kinda good
stuff. And then everyone rises up, says hell no – even my own damned
daughter, she comes huffin’ & puffin’, sayin’ all kinds of things in
public, in a public meeting, like she doesn’t even know me.”
Arrowroot’s voice was rising. “Then, there’s this damned girl
with Expert Manifold. In marketing or some such. They say, ‘come on
out to France, take a look at one of our plants out there, see how
clean it is, all kinda happy people working here. French people.
African. Lebanese. Now this girl, her name is Maria. She says, ‘hey,
I’ll come with, show you a good time.’ You know, professional like,
that’s all I thought. She had a boyfriend, gonna get married, that’s
all I thought. So off we go, me, my son, some other folks from the
city, and Maria. That was last summer. Had a swingin’ time, stayed 10
days. And then, damned if me an’ Maria didn’t hook up. Right there in
Paris. Right there in the danged City of Lights. Hotel room had a
window on the damned Eiffel Tower, no less.”
Arrowroot looked at Smiley, who was staring back, unblinking.
“You know what that is? You know what hooking up is? You got that on
your planet? Well, that’s what we did. Me and Maria. So we get back to
America and I’m tellin’ her, hey, honey, been fun, gonna have to cool
it now. And she’s more or less agreeable to that, but you know, I
believe my son knew. He knew something. He let something slip. To my
wife. Not on purpose. I know it wasn’t on purpose, he wasn’t like
that. That was last October. So he says something to her, and she
raises hell. I denied it all, but she knew. She knew. Lotta passion in
that woman. Or lotta crazy, more like. So she raises hell, then three
days later she drives off the mountain. She up and drives her Mercedes
I bought her, which is a damned expensive car, in case you didn’t
know, drives it right off the damned mountain, not that far from here.
At night, she fell 100 feet, it burned a little too. Daughter had to
go identify the remains. Not much left. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t
look. My daughter, she blames me of course. She doesn’t know the
details, but she suspects. She and her momma, they never were too
close. Too much alike, I think. But now Danielle, she had to see her
momma like that, she’s all in my face, she’s all ‘you did this and you
did that and all.’ And then Robert, that’s my son, Robert, he just
disappears, goes back to the Carlisle place, you know, where you got
your ass arrested, writes poetry, solves a mystery while he’s at it I
think, ‘cause that’s the kind of person he was. And then— and then—“
Arrowroot stopped and inhaled slowly. “And then they kill him—
And then they go on and kill him. And that’s all there is.”
As he spoke, Arrowroot had been gripping the steering wheel, and
his hands were starting to hurt. He shook them out, took off his
glasses, wiped his eyes and looked at Smiley.
“And then, here’s the kicker,” Arrowroot said. “The absolute
kicker. Maria, I think she was doin’ it for the business, if you will.
You know, like a prostitute. Like a modern-day prostitute, that is.
She’s not just takin’ a 20, or a 50, like my momma did. She’s in it
for the big time, keep me on their side, get that land for their
factory, make a million dollars a year, and then some. I can’t prove
it. I can’t prove it. But we did our thing, and right after, we’re
lyin’ in bed, looking at the damned Eiffel Tower and all, and she says
‘so, you think you’ll get that zonin’? And that was Traxie right
there, knew it as soon as the words dropped out of her mouth. Traxie
came with me to Paris. Traxie took my head in its mouth when I was
born, and it’s been my shadow every day since. My momma a Traxie
hooker, and then, you know, the world travels around the sun a bunch
of times, and Traxie’s just layin’ for me all the while, just waitin’
until another kinda hooker comes for me, and I’m all ‘hell yeah,’ and
I never seen it comin’. I never seen it.
“So there you go,” Arrowroot concluded. “Work with that now. Tell
me what it all means.”
“Your life is a journey among wants,” Smiley said, “It is by
definition difficult.”
“Shit,” Arrowroot said. “I was looking for something way
different from you. I got a ticket too, in the midst of it all. Wife
goes and dies on the road, I get justifiably drunk a few times, go and
get in my car, kill a damned mailbox. Danged police chief writes me a
ticket like he’s writin’ one for anyone else. Coulda got me for DUI
though, I guess, chose not to. And then, get this. She sent me a
letter. Maria did. Got it yesterday, in my office. They still want
their zoning, and I still want to give it to ‘em, regardless of the
whoopee. And I want my daughter to quit raisin’ hell all the time. I
can’t stop thinkin’ about my son. I miss the hell out of my wife. I
can’t stop thinkin’ about booze. You got booze on your planet? I hope
not. And I got a federal fugitive livin’ in my house, you’re about to
meet her probably. And Traxie, it’s always there, always gonna be
there. So go ahead.”
Arrowroot looked at Smiley and repeated himself. “So go ahead.”
“I don’t understand,” Smiley said.
“Give me some advice,” Arrowroot said. “You’re the smartest man
on earth, told me that yesterday, and you’re about to leave maybe, so
show me how smart you are. Tell me what to do.”
Smiley looked at the lunch bag on his knee, touched the faces of
the cat and the dog that had been printed on it, then unfolded the top
and looked inside.
“You can’t do nothin’ with that, can you, Nebby?” Arrowroot said.
“Real shitstorm, of a life, ain’t it?”
He started his car and wheeled it around in the clearing and they
returned to the road.
“I can’t advise a creature that doesn’t understand itself,”
Smiley said.
“A creature that doesn’t understand itself?” Arrowroot repeated.
“You’re talking about me?”
“Yes,” Smiley replied.
“What the hell’s to understand?” Arrowroot demanded. “I did some
shit, some shit resulted, now I gotta do more shit to resolve it. Just
point the way.”
“The things you did were products of your brain,” Smiley said.
“And you have no idea how your brain works.”
“The hell I don’t!” Arrowroot retorted, shouting because he’d
reached a straight place on the road through the mountain and hit the
gas hard, and the car was roaring. “My brain works by doing shit. That
should be completely obvious.”
The two men rode the rest of the way in silence. Arrowroot pulled
up to his house and turned off the car.
“Here’s my homeplace,” he said. “Whatcha think?”
“Does anyone else live there?” Smiley said.
“No one permanently, except Othercat,” Arrowroot said, exiting
his convertible, “but Tamani’s probably still there this morning. You
need to meet her. Central figure in this whole story. She’s already
seen you, though. Saw you land out at the Carlisle place.”