The Universe is a Very Big Place (39 page)

Lanie popped up from the sofa and hugged him so tightly she thought he might break.

"Careful," he warned. "You might crack a necessary part."

"I’ve got a question to ask you," Bob said, straightening himself and looking into Lanie’s eyes. His tone deepened turning her warm.

"Sure, Bob, shoot," she said, hoping they’d be done with the talking soon, so they could move on to the smooching. He had one of those tiny bow mouths that were so popular in the silent films of the twenties and she needed to kiss it all of the time.

"These past few weeks have been the happiest in my life," he began, pausing to clear his throat. "I’ve been a bachelor all my life, never giving much stock to love. I mean, you can’t quantify love, right? How do you know it exists? But here you are." He motioned his arms up and down like she were the grand prize in
The Price is Right.
"And I wanted to ask if you, well, if you and Buttermilk would..."

The knock at the door startled Lanie and sent Buttermilk scrambling. Lanie watched Bob’s small frame slump. She scurried to the door, promising Bob that he would have her full attention once she sent their visitor on his way.

"It’s store boy!" she exclaimed, seeing the young man before her, a smile spreading across her face. "John, right?"

"Yes, ma’am," John said, as she pulled him inside. He looked thinner than the last time she had seen him. Poor guy needed a home-cooked meal.

"Don’t step on the pig," she warned him. "It’s real this time."

"Is Spring here?" John looked around the house, craning his neck to peer down the hall.

Lanie clucked her tongue. "No. She’s getting married today. Didn’t you know?"

John sighed. "Yes, ma’am. I did." John scratched his head in a defeated fashion. The poor boy had it bad, Lanie thought. "I’m gonna get something out of my truck real fast," John said after a long pause. Bob moved towards them and placed his arms protectively around Lanie’s waist. The couple watched as John jogged to his truck and returned with a large picture.

"This is my beau, Bob," Lanie said when John returned, chastising herself for not introducing him sooner. John nodded a hello.

"Can you see that Spring gets this?" John handed the picture over to Lanie. She looked at it and gasped.

"This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!" Lanie marveled at the use of color and light. She pushed it towards Bob so that he could see. "Did you do this?"

John nodded. "Normally, I’m not this good. But Spring...inspires me."

Bob pushed his glasses back onto his nose and focused his attention on the painting. "I must say, that is a haunting scene. Who is the young lady by the lake?"

Lanie patted Bob on the head. Men couldn’t be counted on to notice anything. "That’s my daughter! Can’t you tell? Looks exactly like me."

Bob leaned in closer, squinting through his glasses. "So it is," he acknowledged. "Simply marvelous."

"I’m gonna go now," said John, pushing his hands through his hair. "I need to go home, drink six beers, and fall into a very deep sleep." John turned to leave, but seemed to think better of it. "Oh, and see that Sam gets his letter back." He pushed his hand into a pocket and delivered a letter with fancy scrawl into Lanie’s hand.

"This is from Sam?" she asked, turning the letter over in her hand. She saw that it was signed from Spring, but that was not Spring’s handwriting. No woman had writing that fancy.

"Yes, ma’am. I want him to know, that, well...I know."

Lanie was about to ask more questions when the thought occurred to her. "The social worker who came to the house and told us the boys would be taken away...she showed me a letter. It was written in this type of handwriting, on this type of stationary! Sam!" Lanie smacked her head. Here she was chasing witches when there was a warlock at work. "What a bastard!"

John looked confused but Lanie smiled reassuringly. "You’re the knight!" she said, bouncing up and down.

"Huh?" The poor boy looked like he had just been caught sneaking into the women’s changing room.

"From the cards. You are her Knight of Cups."

John looked at her; his face as empty as her ex-husband’s wallet. She shifted her considerable weight from one foot to the other and then dashed out of the room, returning with the tarot card.

"I did a reading for Spring awhile back. And this came up. It’s you." Lanie gave him the card. John stared at it for a while before handing it back to her.

"I admit, it does look a bit like me," John said. "But..."

"A bit? Boy, that’s the spitting image of you! Why didn’t I see that before? I’m way out of practice." Lanie clucked her tongue, wondering if she should take some internet classes or something to brush up. Bob checked out the card and nodded his agreement. When Lanie saw that the boy wasn’t going to say anymore she sighed. Why was she the one who always had to fix everything? "You’re in love with her, right?"

He nodded.

"And you know as well as I do that marrying that man will ruin that girl, right?"

He nodded again.

"Then let’s go get her before she makes the biggest mistake of her life."

John drove Bob’s red ’67 Mustang, trying to drown out the Metallica CD that Bob insisted was great traveling music. Buttermilk sat buckled in beside him and Lanie and Bob shared the backseat, making out like teenagers. He hoped that they didn’t pass any cops along the way.

"Where exactly is the chapel?" John asked. They had been driving through Sedona for the last forty-five minutes and Lanie offered nothing as far as directions. He heard the heave of her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "You don’t know where your daughter is getting married? How could a mother not know these things?"

"I try not to concern myself with things of the material world," Lanie answered, tickling Bob’s ear.

"We could ask a local," Bob suggested. "Surely this town can’t have that many chapels?"

John nodded, cursing himself for not having his laptop. He pulled into the parking lot of a building that advertised itself as a Tourist Center.

"Hello, sir," said the smiling man inside. The place was a conglomeration of crystals, dream catchers, Indian fetishes, and brochures. John ducked to avoid being hit by a bird that flew freely about the store. "Can I help you?"

"I need to find local chapels that might perform weddings," said John, leafing through a brochure. "I have a friend who is scheduled to get married today, and I’d like to be there."

The man scratched his head and his eyes focused on some object outside the window. John turned in that direction but did not see anything. "We have several chapels here in town, sir. And several more outside of town. Might take us awhile to narrow it down."

John sighed and wondered if he was supposed to offer a bribe like he had seen in the movies.

"There’s the Chapel of the Rock," said the man, holding up a finger. "The chapel of the Red Rock, The Chapel of the Supreme Rock, The First Chapel of the Red Rock, The Unquestionable Chapel of the First Red Rock, and the Red Rock Chapel of Hope and Forgiveness."

John scribbled them down on the back of a brochure.

"Now, all of those are on Red Rock Chapel Drive, of course. But if you head north, you will find the Chapel of The Sun. The Sunset Chapel of Devoutness. The Chapel of the Sun Gods. The Chapel of Those Who Think the Sun Gods are Heretical. And the Chapel of St. Donald McRonald..."

"You’re making these up."

"Now, if you head west, you will find..." The man went on as John left the building.

"Sir!" The man followed, calling to him through the door. "Might I interest you in a timeshare opportunity while you are in town? You get a free night’s stay and a chance to interview a group of dolphins who believe that in the last days, all humans will have to convert to blowhole breathing."

"Any luck?" asked Lanie, who was walking Buttermilk. Bob was hunched over, following the pair with a small shovel and a plastic baggie. John ignored her and got in. "Guess we drive around and see if we spot their vehicle," she said.
 

It was as good a plan as any.

Sam and Spring sat in a pew awaiting their turn to be married. They had arrived late because Sam insisted they check out the shops the moment they entered downtown Sedona. There were so many bookstores and coffee houses that Sam commented, this must be what Paradise was like, minus the virgins. Luckily, Pastor Paul was a generous man who would never turn away a couple with big dreams and fifty-five dollars. Spring listened as Pastor Paul performed the rites for a young couple ahead of them.

"There are gonna be times when you want to cheat," said Pastor Paul, eyeing the young man who stood before him. "Lotsa times. When your wife starts looking old and her boobs swing like monkeys on a rotting vine and you lose your hair and want to feel young again." The couple in front of them exchanged worried glances. "But don’t. Don’t you do it. You don’t get into heaven by pulling your pecker out whenever the urge hits you." He shifted his gaze to the woman. "Or by flashing your firm breasts at truckers at three in the morning."

Sam turned to Spring and winked. "I’m not worried about that, Pookie. Your breasts aren’t that firm."

Pastor Paul proclaimed them man and wife and the couple disappeared behind a curtain for pictures and shrimp cocktail. The next pair stood and Spring felt a wave of nausea wash over her. "I have to get something from the car." She needed the valium she had snatched from Lanie’s purse.

"No." Sam stopped her. "Just a few more minutes. Then we can get whatever you need."

"And don’t forget to put the toilet seat down," Pastor Paul advised. "Keep your makeup on when you go to bed. And a little oral goes a long way."

Spring turned to Sam. "I don’t think I can do this." She grabbed his chin and forced him to face her. "It’s not right. We don’t love each other." Though Sam remained perfectly composed, a storm brewed behind his eyes. He pursed his lips together and clicked his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Next," said Pastor Paul, beckoning to Sam. Sam motioned for the couple behind them to take their place, then returned his attention to Spring.

"What do you mean, you don’t think we should?" His face was taut.

"I don’t love you, Sam. I’ve never loved you. I’m sorry. I really am. I wanted to love you. You were normal and stable and there for me. All the things I thought I needed. And you were getting the inheritance..." Spring looked down, avoiding Sam’s gaze. She had never felt so ashamed. "And Lanie told me I only had one shot at love, anyway." Tears begin to form and she fought them back. She clenched her fists together and stood up straight.