Fortunately, I was able to get in touch with Foster up at the caves when Vida discovered that she was pregnant. Vida and I talked it over. The decision to have the abortion was arrived at without bitterness and was calmly guided by gentle necessity.
Tm not ready to have a child yet,’ Vida said. ‘And neither are you, working in a kooky place like this. Maybe another time, perhaps for certain another time, but not now. I love children, but this isn’t the time. If you can’t give them the maximum of yourself, then it’s best to wait. There are too many children in the world and not enough love. An abortion is the only answer.’
‘I think you’re right,’ I said. ‘I d0n’t know about this library being a kooky place, but we’re not ready for a child yet. Perhaps in a few years. I think you should use the pill after we have the abortion.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s the pill from now on.’
Then she smiled and said, ‘It looks like our bodies got us.’
‘It happens sometimes,’ I said.
‘Do you know anything about this kind of business?’ Vida said. ‘I know a little bit. My sister had an abortion last year in Sacramento, but before she had the abortion, she went to a doctor in Marin County who gave her some hormone shots, but they didn’t work because it was too late. The shots work if you take them soon enough and they’re quite a bit cheaper than an abortion.
‘I think I’d better call Foster,’ I said. ‘He got into a thing like this last year and had to go down to Tijuana with one of his Indian girls.’
‘Who’s Foster?’ Vida said.
‘He takes care of the caves,’ I said.
‘What caves?’
‘This building is too small,’ I said.
‘What caves?’ she said.
I guess I was rattled by the events in Vida’s stomach. I hadn’t realized it. I calmed myself down a little bit and said, ‘Yes, we have some caves up in Northern California where we store most of our books because this building is too small for our collection.
‘This library is very old. Foster takes care of the caves. He comes down here every few months and loads his van up with books and stores them in the caves.
‘He also brings me food and the little things that I need. The rest of the time he stays drunk and chases the local women, mostly Indians. He’s quite a guy. A regular explosion of a man.
‘He had to go down to Tijuana last year. He told me all about it. He knows a very good doctor there. There’s a telephone at the caves. I’ll give him a ring. I’ve never done it before. Never had to. Things are usually pretty calm down here. We might as well get this thing going. Would you watch the library while I do it?’
‘Yes,’ Vida said. ‘Of course. It would be a privilege. I never thought that I would end up being the librarian of this place, but I guess I should have had an inkling when I came in here with my book under my arm.’
She was smiling and wearing a short green dress. Her smile was on top of the dress. It looked like a flower.
‘It will only take a few minutes,’ I said. ‘I think there’s a pay telephone down at the corner. That is, if it’s still there. I haven’t been out of here in so long that they may have moved it.’
‘No, it’s still there,’ Vida said, smiling. ‘I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry. Your library is in good hands.’
She held her hands out to me and I kissed them.
‘See?’ she said.
‘You know how to put the books down in the Library Contents Ledger?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know how to do it and I’ll give anyone who» rings in a book the royal carpet treatment. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right. Stop worrying. Mr Librarian. I think you have been in here too long. I think I’ll kidnap you soon.’
‘You could ask them to wait,’ I said. ‘1’ll only be gone for a few minutes.’
‘Come on now!’ Vida said. ‘Let your granny gland relax a little and slow down those rocking chair secretions.’
Gee, it had been a long time. I hadn’t realized that being in that library for so many years was almost like being in some kind of timeless thing. Maybe an aeroplane of books, flying through the pages of eternity.
Actually being outside was quite different from looking out of the window or the door. I walked down the street, feeling strangely awkward on the sidewalk. The concrete was too hard, aggressive or perhaps I was too light, passive.
It was something to think about.
I had a lot of trouble opening the telephone booth door but finally I got inside and started to call Foster up at the caves when suddenly I realized that I didn’t have any money with me. I searched all my pockets but, alas, not a cent. I didn’t need money in the library.
‘Back already? Vida said. She looked very pretty behind the counter in her green dress with her flower-like head.
‘I don’t have any money,’ I said.
After she stopped laughing, which took about five minutes, very funny, she went and got her purse and gave me a handful of change.
‘You’re too much,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you haven’t forgotten how to use money? You hold it like this.’ She held an imaginary coin between her fingers and started laughing all over again.
I left. I had my dime.
I called Foster up at the caves. I could hear his telephone ringing. It rang seven or eight times and then Foster answered it.
‘What’s happening? Foster said. ‘Who is this? What are you up to, you son-of-a-bitch? Don’t you know it’s one o’clock in the afternoon. What are you? A vampire?’
‘It’s me,’ I said. ‘You old drunk!’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘The kid. Hell, why didn’t you say so? What’s up down there? Somebody bring in an elephant with a book written on it? Well, feed it some hay and I’ll be down with the van.’
‘Very funny, Foster,’ I said.
‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘Nothing’s impossible at that loony bin you’ve got down there. What’s up, kid?’
‘I’ve got a problem.’
‘You?’ he said. ‘How in the hell can you have a problem? You’re inside all the time. Is that prison pallor of yours beginning to flake?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘My girlfriend is pregnant.’
‘DINGALING CUCKOO!’ Foster said and the conversation stopped for a moment while Foster laughed so hard it almost shook the telephone booth hundreds of miles away.
Finally he stopped laughing and said, ‘It sounds like you’ve really been working hard at the library, but when did fornication become one of its services? Girlfriend, huh? Pregnant, huh? Cuckoo, kid!’
He started to laugh all over again. It was everybody’s day to laugh except mine.
‘Well, what do you need?’ he said. ‘A little trip down to Tijuana? A short visit with my abortionist buddy, Dr Garcia?’
‘Something like that,’ I said.
‘Well, I’ll have a few drinks for breakfast,’ he said. ‘And get in the van and be in sometime late this evening.’
‘Good,’ I said. ‘That’s what I need.’
Then there was a slight pause at the cave end of the telephone.
‘You don’t have any money, do you, kid?’ Foster said.
‘Are you kidding?’ I said. ‘Where would I get any money? This is the lowest-paying job in the world because it doesn’t. I had to borrow this dime from my girlfriend to call you collect.’
‘I guess I’m still gorgonized,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I was probably thinking that I spent all my money last night on drink or was it last week? and I haven’t got a cent. Cuckoo, have I been out of it!’
‘What about my food?’ I said, realizing that he had spent my food money, too.
‘Is she good-looking?’ Foster said. ‘Will she do in a dust storm at midnight with a candle?’
‘What?’ I said.
‘I’ll bring the money, then,’ he said. ‘It costs a couple of hundred if you make the good doctor toe the line. He likes to speculate sometimes — it’s the businessman in him — but you can hold him down by putting the two hundred in his hand.
‘Let’s see: You’ll need plane tickets and walking around money and you might need a hotel room for her to rest up after she sees Dr Garcia.
‘I’ll go down to the bar and turn a couple of the patrons upside down and see what I can shake out of their pockets, so you hang on, kid, and I’ll be in late this evening and we’ll get this show on the road.
‘I never thought you had it in you, kid. Tell your young lady hello for me and that everything will be all right. Foster’s coming.’
That Foster! I went back to the library. Somebody was just leaving as I arrived. It was a young boy, maybe sixteen. He looked awfully tired and nervous. He hurried past me.
‘Thank God, darling, you didn’t get lost,’ Vida said. ‘I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to find your way back up the block. It’s great to see you, honey.’
She came out from behind the desk and moved breathlessly to where I was given a great big lingering kiss. She had lost about 80 per cent of her awkwardness since she had come to the library that evening late last year. The 20 per cent she had left was very intriguing.
‘How did it go?’ she said.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Here’s your dime. Foster’s on his way down. He’ll be in late this evening.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’ll be glad when this thing is over. I wouldn’t like to wait for an abortion. I’m glad we’re doing it right now.’
‘So am I. Foster knows a great doctor,’ I said. ‘Everything will be all right. Foster’s going to take care of everything.’
‘Fine, just fine,’ she said. ‘What about money? I have—’
‘No, no,’ I said. ‘Foster will get the money.’
‘You’re sure, because—’
‘No, I’m sure,’ I said. ‘Who was that boy who was leaving?’
‘Some kid who brought in a book,’ she said. ‘I welcomed it in my most pleasing manner and recorded it in my best handwriting in the Library Contents Ledger.’
‘Gee,’ I said. ‘This is the first time I haven’t received a book in years.’
‘Oh, honey,’ she said. ‘You aren’t that old, even though you try to be, but that kind of thinking is going to make you an old man if you work at it hard enough.’
She kissed me again.
‘I’ll take a look at it,’ I said.
‘Your old age?’ she said.
‘No, the book.’
She stood there and smiled after me as I walked over behind the desk and opened the Library Contents Ledger and read:
THE OTHER SIDE OF MY HAND by Harlow Blade, Jr. The author was about sixteen and seemed a little sadder than he should have been for his age. He was very shy around me. The poor dear. He kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
Finally he said, ‘Are you the librarian?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘I expected a man.’
‘He’s out,’ I said. ‘So I’ll just have to do. I don’t bite.’
‘You’re not a man,’ he said.
‘What’s your name?’
‘What?’
‘Your name, please? I have to write it down here in the ledger before we can take your book. You do have a name, don’t you?’
‘Yes. Harlow Blade, Jr.’
‘Now what’s your book about? I have to have that, too. Just tell me what it’s about and I’ll write it down here in the ledger.’
‘I was expecting a man,’ he said.
‘What’s your book about? The subject, please?’
‘Masturbation. I’d better be going now.’
I started to thank him for bringing his book in and tell him that he could put it anywhere he wanted to in the library, but he left without saying anything else. Poor kid.
What a strange place this library is, but I guess it’s the only place you can bring a book in the end. I brought mine here and I’m still here.
Vida trailed over to the desk and moved behind it with me and put her arm around me and read the entry over my shoulder after I finished reading it.
‘I think it sounds pretty good,’ she said.
Gee, the handwriting of a different librarian lay before me on the desk. It was the first book I hadn’t welcomed and recorded there myself in years.
I looked over at Vida for a moment. I must have looked at her kind of strangely because she said, ‘Oh, no. No, no, no.’
Foster arrived at midnight. We were in my room, sitting around drinking coffee and talking about small casual things that are never remembered afterwards, except perhaps in the twilight moments of our lives.
Foster never bothered to ring the bell on the front door. He said it made him think he was going into some kind of church and he’d had enough of that to last him forever.
BANG! BANG! BANG! he just slugged the door with his fist and I could always hear him and was afraid that he would break the glass. Foster couldn’t be overlooked or forgotten.
‘What’s that?’ Vida said, jumping up startled from the bed.
‘That’s Foster,’ I said.
‘It sounds like an elephant,’ she said.
‘He never touches the stuff,’ I said.
We went out into the library and turned on the lights and there was Foster on the other side of the door, still banging away with that big fist of his.
There was a large smile on his face and he was wearing his traditional T-shirt. He never wore a shirt or a coat or a sweater. It didn’t make any difference what the weather did. Cold, wind or rain, Foster always wore his T-shirt. He was of course sweating like a dam and his buffalo-heavy blond hair hung almost down to his shoulders.
‘Hello!’ he said. His voice came booming through as if the glass door were made of tissue paper. ‘What’s going on in there?’
I opened the door for him and could see the van parked out in front. The van was big and strange and looked like a prehistoric animal asleep in front of the library.
‘Well, here I am,’ he said and threw an arm around me and gave me a big hug. There was a bottle of whisky in his other hand and half the whisky was gone.
‘How’s it going, kid? Cheer up. Foster’s here. Hey, hello there,’ he said to Vida. ‘My, aren’t you a pretty girl! Damn, am I glad I drove down here! Every mile was worth it. My God, ma’am, you’re so pretty I’d walk ten miles barefooted on a freezing morning to stand in your shit.’
Vida broke up. There was a big smile on her face. I could tell that she liked him instantly.
My, how her body had relaxed these few months we’d been going together. She was still a little awkward, but now instead of treating it as a handicap, she treated it as a form of poetry and it was fantastically charming.
Vida came over and put her arm around Foster. He gave her a great big hug, too, and offered her a drink from his bottle of whisky.
‘It’s good for you,’ he said.
‘All right, I’ll give it a try,’ she said.
He wiped the mouth of the bottle off with his hand in the grand manner and offered her the bottle and she took a delicate nip.
‘Hey, kid. You try some of this stuff, too. It’ll grow hair on your books.’
I took a drink.
Wow!
‘Where did you get this whisky?’ I said.
‘I bought it from a dead Indian.’
‘Lead the way,’ Foster said.
He had his arm around Vida. They were like two peas in a pod. I was very pleased that they were getting along so well together. We went back to my room to relax and make our plans for Tijuana.
‘Where have you been all my life?’ Foster said.
‘Not on the reservation,’ Vida said.
‘Wonderful!’ Foster said. ‘Where did you find this girl?’
‘She came along,’ I said.
‘I should be working down here at the library,’ Foster said. ‘Not up at the caves. I got up on the wrong side of the map. Hey, hey, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My God, you’re even prettier than my mother’s picture.’
‘It’s the whisky,’ Vida said. ‘I always look better through amber-coloured fluid.’
‘Damn, it’s the whisky. You’re pulling my 86 proof. I think I’ll take over this library for a while and you kids can go up and dust off those God-damn books and live at the caves. It’s real nice up there. But don’t mention to anyone that you know me. Jesus Christ and old Foster wore out their welcome at the same time. I only survive on my good looks these days.’
We went back to my room and we all sat down on the bed together and drank a little whisky and made plans for Tijuana. I usually don’t drink but I figured the present condition of our lives merited a little drink.
‘Well, it’s a little abortion, huh?’ Foster said. ‘You’re sure now?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘We talked it over. That’s what we want.’
Foster looked over at Vida.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’re too immature right now to have a child. It would only confuse us and this confusion would not be good for a child. It’s hard enough being born into this world without having immature and confused parents. Yes, I want the abortion.’
‘O K, then,’ Foster said. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. I know a good doctor: Dr Garcia. He won’t hurt you and there will be no complications. Everything will be just fine.’
‘I trust you,’ she said.
Vida reached over and took my hand.
‘The arrangements are very simple,’ Foster said. ‘You’ll take a plane down there. There’s one that leaves at 8.15 tomorrow morning for San Diego. I’ve got you both round-trip tickets. I called the doctor and he’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be in TJ before noon and the thing will be over in a short while.
‘You can come back in the evening on the plane if you feel up to it, but if you want to stay over in San Diego, I’ve got a reservation for you at the Green Hotel. I know the guy who runs the place. He’s a good guy. You’ll feel a little weak after the abortion, so it’s up to you if you want to stay. It just depends on how you feel, but don’t push it if you feel too woozy, just stay over at the hotel.
‘Sometimes Dr Garcia tries to speculate on the price of the abortion, but I told him you were coming and you only had 200 dollars and there was no more and he said, “OK, Foster, will do.” He doesn’t speak very good English but he’s very kind and very good. He’s a regular doctor. He did me a good turn with that Indian girl last year. Any questions or anything? Damn! you’re a pretty girl.’
He gave Vida a nice hug.
‘I think you’ve probably covered it all,’ I said.
‘Vida?’ he said.
‘No, I can’t think of anything.’
‘What about the library?’ I said.
‘Whatabout the library?’ Foster said.
‘Who’s going to watch it? There has to be somebody here. That’s a big part of this library. Somebody has to be here twenty-four hours a day to receive and welcome books. It’s the very foundation of this library. We can’t close it. It has to remain open.’
‘You mean me?’ Foster said. ‘Oh, no. I’m strictly a caveman. You’ll have to get another boy.’
‘But there has to be somebody here,’ I said, looking hard at him.
‘Oh, no,’ Foster said.
‘But,’ I said.
Vida was awfully amused by the whole thing. I was fully aware that Vida did not share the intensity of my feeling towards the library. I could understand that it was a rather strange calling that I had answered, but it was a thing I had to do.
‘I’m a caveman,’ Foster said.
‘This is our job,’ I said. ‘This is what we were hired to do. We have to take care of this library and the people that need its services.
‘I was meaning to bring that up,’ Foster said. ‘This is a kind of slow-paying operation. I haven’t been paid in two years. I’m supposed to make $295.50 a month.’
‘Foster!’ I said.
‘I was just joking,’ Foster said. ‘Just a little joke. Here, have some more whisky.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Vida?’ Foster said.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Another sip would be just wonderful. It’s relaxing.’
‘It’s the old Indian tranquillizer,’ Foster said.
‘You can take care of this place for a day or so while we’re down in Mexico getting the abortion,’ I said. ‘It won’t kill you to actually put in a day’s work. It’s been years since you’ve turned a wheel.’
‘I have my work up, at the caves,’ he said. ‘It’s quite a responsibility lugging books up there and putting them away, guarding them and making sure cave seepage doesn’t get to them.’
‘Cave seepage!’ I said, horrified.
‘Forget I said that,’ Foster said. ‘I don’t want to go into it right now, but OK, I’ll stay here and take care of the library until you get back. I don’t like it but I’ll do it.’
‘Cave seepage?’ I repeated.
‘What do I have to do around here?’ Foster said. ‘How do I deal with the nuts that bring their books in? What do you do here, anyway? Have some whisky. Tell me all about it.’
Vida was very amused by what was going on. She certainly was pretty. We were all very relaxed lying there on the bed. The whisky had made us mud-puddly at the edges of our bodies and the edges of our minds.
This is delightful,’ Vida said.
‘What’s that?’ Foster said, almost moving on the bed.
‘That’s the bell,’ I said. ‘Somebody is out there with a new book for the library. I’ll show you how we honour a hook into the library. “Welcome it” is the phrase I use.’
‘Sounds like a funeral parlour,’ Foster said. ‘Damn, what time is it?’ Foster looked around the room. ‘I can hear it ticking.’
I looked over at the clock. Foster couldn’t see it because of the way he was lying on the bed.
‘After midnight,’
‘That’s kind of late to bring a book in, isn’t it? Midnight? That’s twelve.’
‘We’re open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We never close,’ I said.
‘Good God!’ Foster said.
‘See what I mean?’ Vida said.
‘Do I,’ Foster said. ‘This boy needs a rest.’
Then he looked over at Vida. He appraised her in a classic computerized masculine manner without being obvious or sensual and he liked what he saw.
Vida looked at him smiling gently without disturbing her mouth. It remained unchanged by her smile. I believe this thing has been gone into before.
She was not the same girl who had brought her book in a few months before. She had become somebody else with her body. ‘Yes,’ Foster said, finally. ‘Yes, maybe we had better go out and see who’s bringing in a book. We don’t want to keep her, I mean, them waiting. It’s cold outside.’
Foster had never been aware of cold in his entire life, so he was a little drunk and his imagination had just gone into full gallop.
‘What do you do out there?’ Foster said. ‘Maybe I’ll just go out there and take care of it myself. You kids can sit here and relax. No reason to stop being comfortable when old Foster’s around. I’ll take care of that book myself. Besides, I have to find out what’s going on here if I’m going to run this asylum while you’re in TJ.’
Vida’s smile had opened until now you could see the immaculate boundaries of her teeth. Her eyes had small friendly lightning walking across them.
I was smiling, too.
‘What do you do out there? You write down the title of the book and the name of the writer and a little something about the book into that big black ledger, huh?’
‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘And you have to be friendly, too. That’s important. To make the person and the book feel wanted because that’s the main purpose of the library and to gather pleasantly together the unwanted, the lyrical and haunted volumes of American writing.’
‘You’re kidding,’ Foster said. ‘You have to be kidding.’
‘Come on, Foster,’ I said. ‘Or I’ll bring up “cave seepage” again. You know “cave seepage”.’
‘All right. All right. All right, cuckoo,’ Foster said. ‘I’ll be on my best and besides, who knows: I might want to be on my best. I’m not such a bad guy. Come to think of it, I’ve got a lot of friends. They may not admit it, but I’m a big place in their hearts.’
The bell was still ringing but it was growing weak and needed immediate attention. Foster was by now off the bed. He ran his hand through his buffalo-heavy blond hair as if to comb it before going out to the library.
While Foster went into the library to welcome his first book, Vida and I continued lying there on the bed taking little nips from the bottle of whisky he had graciously left behind. After a while Vida and I were so relaxed that we both could have been rented out as fields of daisies.
Suddenly, we had lost track of time, Foster came slamming into the room. He was very angry in his overweight T-shirt sweating kind of way.
‘I think we’d better close this nuthouse while you’re south,’ he said, demanding whisky with his right hand. ‘Come to think of it, we should close this God-damn place forever. Everybody go home. Pick up their marbles. That is, if they have any left.’
Foster gobbled down a big turkey slug of whisky. He grimaced and shook when it hit his stomach. ‘That’s better,’ he said, wiping his hand across his mouth.
‘What happened? Vida said. ‘It looks like your library vaccination didn’t take.’
‘You’re telling me. More whisky!’ Foster said, addressing the bottle as if it were a healing hand of balm.
‘I hope you didn’t frighten them,’ I said. ‘That’s not the purpose of this library. It’s a service, not a demand that we perform here.’
‘Frighten them? Are you kidding, kid? It was the other God-damn way around. Hell, I usually get along with people.’
‘What happened?’ Vida repeated.
‘Well, I went out there and it wasn’t exactly who I expected would be there. I mean, they were standing outside and—’
‘Who was it?’ Vida said.
‘A woman?’ I said, a little mercilessly.
‘It’s not important} Foster said. ‘Let me continue, damn it! Yes, there was a woman out there and I use the word woman with serious reservation. She was ringing the bell and she had a book under her arm, so I opened the door. That was a mistake.’
‘What did she look like?’ I said.
‘It’s not important,’ Foster said.
‘Come on,’ Vida said. ‘Tell us.’
Ignoring us, Foster continued telling the story in his own manner. ‘When I opened the door she opened her mouth at the same time. “Who are you?” she demanded to know in a voice just like a car wreck. What the hell!
‘ “I’m Foster,” I said.
‘ “You don’t look like any Foster I’ve ever seen,” she said. “I think you’re somebody else because you’re no Foster.”
‘ “That’s my name,” I said. “I’ve always been Foster.”
‘ “Haa! but enough of you. Where’s my mother?” she demanded.
‘ “What do you mean, your mother? You’re too old to have a mother,” I said. I was tired of humouring the bag.
‘ “What do you want done with that book?” I said.
‘ “That’s none of your God-damn business, you impostor Foster. Where’s she at?”
‘ “Good night,” I said.
‘ “What do you mean, good night? I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here until you tell me about my mother.”
‘ “I don’t know where your mother is and frankly, to quote Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind, ‘I don’t give a damn’.”
‘ “Call my mother Clark Gable!” she said, and then she tried to slap me. Well, that was quite enough out of her, so I grabbed her hand in mid-flight and spun her around and gave her a big shove out the door. She went flying out that door like a garbage can on the wing.
‘ “Let my mother go free!” she yelled. “My mother! My Mother!”
‘I started to close the door. It was getting kind of dreamlike about this time. I didn’t know whether to wake up or slug the bitch.
‘She made a threatening motion towards the glass, so I went outside and escorted her down the stairs. We had a little struggle along the way, but I laid a little muscle on her arm and she cooled it and at the same time I gentlemanly offered to break her chicken neck if she didn’t take out down the street as fast as her clothes-hanger legs would take her.
‘The last I saw of her she was yelling, “It isn’t right that I should end up like this, doing these crazy things that I do, feeling the way I do, saying these things,” and she was tearing pages out of the book and throwing them over her head like a bride at a wedding reception.’
‘Like a bride at a wedding?’ Vida said.
‘The flowers,’ Foster said.
‘Oh, I didn’t understand,’ she said.
‘I don’t understand either,’ Foster said. ‘I went down and picked up some of the pages to see what kind of book they came from, but the pages didn’t have any writing on them. They were blank like snow.’
‘That’s how it goes here sometimes,’ I said. ‘We get some disturbed authors, but most of the time it’s quiet. All you have to do is be patient with them and write down the author of the book, its title and a little description in the Library Contents Ledger, and let them put the book any place they want in the library.’
‘That’s easy enough with this one,’ Foster said.
I started to say something—
‘The description,’ Foster said.
I started to say something—
‘Blank like snow,’ Foster said.
‘I’ll sleep in my van,’ Foster said.
‘No, there’s room in here for you,’ I said.
‘Please stay,’ Vida said.
‘No, no,’ Foster said. ‘I’m more comfortable in my van. I always sleep there. I got a little mattress and a sleeping bag it makes me cosy as a bug in a rug.
‘No, it’s already settled. It’s the van for old Foster. You kids get a good night’s sleep because you have to leave early on the plane. I’ll take you down to the airfield.’
‘No, you can’t do that,’ I said. ‘We’ll have to take the bus because you have to stay here and watch the library. Remember? It has to remain open all the time we’re gone. You’ll have to stay until we get back.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Foster said. ‘After that experience I had a little while ago, I don’t know. You couldn’t get somebody to come in from one of those temporary employment agencies to handle it, a Kelly Girl or something like that, huh? Hell, I’d pay for it out of my own pocket. They can take care of the library while I go down to North Beach and take in a few topless shows while I’m here.’
‘No, Foster,’ I said. ‘We can’t trust this library to just anyone. You’ll have to stay here while we’re gone. We’re not going to be gone long.’
‘Humour him, Foster,’ Vida said.
‘OK. I wonder what the next nut will be about who brings a book in.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘That was an exception. Things will run smoothly while we’re gone.’
‘I’ll bet.’
Foster got ready to go outside. ‘Here, have another drink of whisky,’ Foster said. ‘I’m going to take the bottle with me.’
‘When does the plane leave?’ Vida said.
‘8.15,’ Foster said. ‘Our pal here can’t drive, so I guess you’ll have to take the bus because the Library Kid here wants me to stay and tend his garden of nuts.’
‘I can drive,’ Vida said, looking smoothly-beautiful and young.
‘Can you drive a van?’ Foster said.
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘I used to drive trucks and pick-ups one summer when I was on a ranch in Montana. I’ve always been able to drive anything that’s got four wheels, sports cars, anything. I even drove a school bus once, taking some kids on a picnic.’
‘A van’s different,’ Foster said.
‘I’ve driven a horse van,’ Vida said.
‘This isn’t a horse van,’ Foster said, now somewhat outraged. ‘There’s never been a horse in my van!’
‘Foster,’ Vida said. ‘Don’t get mad, dear. I was just telling you that I can drive it. I can drive anything. I’ve never been in an accident. I’m a good driver. That’s all. You have a beautiful van.’
‘It’s a good one,’ Foster said, now placated. ‘Well, I guess I don’t see any harm in it and it would get you out there a lost faster than the bus and you could get back here faster. It would be a lot smoother ride. Buses are horrible, and you can park it right out there at the airfield. I guess I won’t need the van while I’m working at this God-damn madhouse. Sure, you can take it, but drive carefully. There’s only one van like that in the whole world and she’s mine and I love her.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Vida said. ‘I’ll love it, too.’
‘Good deal,’ Foster said. ‘Well, I guess I’d better go out and get to bed. Any more whisky here?’
‘No, I think we’ve had enough,’ I said.
‘OK.’
‘Do you want us to wake you?’ Vida said.
‘No, I’ll be up,’ Foster said. ‘I can get up when I want to, down to the minute. I’ve got an alarm clock in my head. It always gets me up. Oh, I almost: forgot to tell you something. Don’t eat anything for breakfast tomorrow. It’s against the rules?’
After Foster left to go out and spend the night in his van, we started getting ready for tomorrow. We wouldn’t have much time in the morning when we woke up.
Vida had enough clothes there at the library, so she wouldn’t have to go home. Even though she only lived a block from the library, I of course had never been there. Sometimes in the past I had been curious about her place and she told me about it.
‘It’s very simple,’ she told me. ‘I don’t have much. All I have is a few books on a shelf, a white rug, a little marble table on the floor, and some records for my stereo: Beatles, Bach, Rolling Stones, Byrds, Vivaldi, Wanda Landowska, Johnny Cash. I’m not a beatnik. It’s just that I always considered my body to be more possessions than I ever needed and so everything else had to be simple.’
She packed a few clothes for us in an old KLM bag and our toothbrushes and my razor in case we had to stay overnight in San Diego.
‘I’ve never had an abortion before,’ Vida said. ‘I hope we don’t have to stay overnight in San Diego. I was there once and I didn’t like it. There are too many unlaid sailors there and everything is either stone stark or neon cheap. It’s not a good town.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said. ‘We’ll just play it by ear, and if everything’s all right, we’ll come back tomorrow evening.’
‘That sounds reasonable,’ Vida said, finishing with our simple packing.
‘Well, let’s have a kiss, honey, and go to bed. We need some sleep,’ I said. ‘We’re both tired and we have to get up early in the morning.’
‘I’ll have to take a bath and a douche,’ Vida said. ‘And put a little dab of perfume behind my ears.’
I took Vida in my arms and gathered the leaves and blossoms of her close, a thing she returned to me, delicate and bouquet-like. Then we took off our clothes and got into bed. I put out the light and she said, ‘Did you set the clock, honey?’
‘Oh, I forgot,’ I said. ‘I’ll get up.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I should have remembered to set the clock. What time do you want to wake up? Six?’
‘No, I think you’d better make it 5.30. I want to take care of my “female complaints” before Foster wakes up, so I can cook a good breakfast for all of us. It’ll be a long day and we’ll need a solid start.’
‘The lady is not for breakfast,’ I said. ‘Remember what Foster said?’
‘Oh. Oh, that’s right. I forgot,’ Vida said.
It was hard for a minute and then we both smiled across the darkness at what we were doing. Though we could not see our smiles, we knew they were there and it comforted us as dark-night smiles have been doing for thousands of years for the problemed people of the earth.
I got up and turned the light on. Vida was still smiling softly as I set the clock for 5.30. It was absolutely too late for remorse now or to cry against the Fates. We were firmly in the surgical hands of Mexico.
Vida did not look at all pregnant as she got into her bath. Her stomach was still so unbelievably thin that it was genius and I wondered how there could be enough intestines in there to digest any food larger than cookies or berries.
Her breasts were powerful but delicate and wet at the nipples.
She had put a pot of coffee on before she had got into the tub and I was standing there watching it perk and watching her bathe at the same time through the open door of the bathroom.
She had her hair piled and pinned on top of her head. It looked beautiful resting on the calm of her neck.
We were both tired, but not as nervous as we could have been facing the prospects of the day, because we had gone into a gentle form of shock that makes it easier to do one little thing after another, fragile step by fragile step, until you’ve done the big difficult thing waiting at the end, no matter what it is.
I think we have the power to transform our lives into brand-new instantaneous rituals that we calmly act out when something hard comes up that we must do.
We become like theatres.
I was taking turns watching the coffee perk and watching Vida at her bath. It was going to be a long day but fortunately we would get there only moment by moment.
‘Is the coffee done yet?’ Vida said.
I smelled the coffee fumes that were rising like weather from the spout. They were dark and heavy with coffee. Vida had taught me how to smell coffee. That was the way she made it.
I had always been an instant man, but she had taught me how to make real coffee and it was a good thing to learn. Where had I been all those years, thinking in terms of coffee as dust?
I thought about making coffee for a little while as I watched it perk. It’s strange how the simple things in life go on while we become difficult.
‘Honey, did you hear me?’ Vida said. ‘The coffee. Stop daydreaming and get on the coffee, dear. Is it done?’
‘I was thinking about something else,’ I said.
Vida put on a simple but quite attractive white blouse with a short blue skirt — you could see easily above her knees — and a little half-sweater thing on over the blouse. I’ve never been able to describe clothes so that anyone knows what I am talking about.
She did not have any make-up on except for her eyes. They looked dark and blue in the way that we like eyes to look in these last years of the seventh decade of the Twentieth Century.
I heard the silver bell ringing on the library door. The bell was ringing rapidly in a kind of shocked manner. The bell seemed almost frightened and crying for help.
It was Foster.
Foster had never really taken to that bell. He had always insisted that it was a sissy bell and always offered to put a bell up himself. He continued the thing as I let him in. I opened the door but he stood there with his hand on the bell rope, though he was not ringing the bell any more.
It was still dark and Foster was wearing his eternal T-shirt and his buffalo-heavy blond hair hung about his shoulders.
‘You should take my advice,’ he said. ‘Get rid of this damn bell and let me put a real bell up for you.’
‘We don’t want a bell that will frighten people,’ I said.
‘What do you mean frighten people? How in the hell can a bell frighten people?’
‘We need a bell that fits the service we offer, that blends in with the library. We need a gentle bell here.’
‘No roughneck bells, huh?’ Foster said.
‘I wouldn’t put it that way,’ I said.
‘Hell,’ Foster said. ‘This bell rings like a God-damn queer down on Market Street. What are you running here?’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said.
‘Well, I’m just trying to look out for your best interests. That’s all, kid.’ He reached over and gave the bell a little tap on its butt.
‘Foster!’ I said.
‘Hell, kid, a tin can and a spoon make a great bell.’
‘What about a fork and a knife and a bowl of soup to go with it, Foster? A little mashed potatoes and gravy and maybe a turkey leg? What about that? Wouldn’t that make a good bell?’
‘Forget it,’ Foster said. He reached over and gave the bell another little tap on its silver butt and said, ‘Good-bye, sweetie.’
Vida cooked Foster and me a good breakfast, though she didn’t have anything with us except some coffee.
‘You certainly look pretty this morning,’ Foster said. ‘You look like a dream I’ve never had before.’
‘I bet you tell that to all the girls,’ Vida said. ‘I can see that you’re a flirt from way back.’
‘I’ve had a girlfriend or two,’ Foster said.
‘Some more coffee?’ Vida said.
‘Yeah, another cup of coffee would be fine. Sure is good coffee. Somebody here knows their way around coffee beans.’
‘What about you, honey?’ Vida said.
‘Sure.’
‘There you go.’
‘Thank you.’
Vida sat back down.
‘Well, you know what you’re supposed to do,’ Foster said after breakfast. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. Dr Garcia is a wonderful doctor. There will be no pain or fuss. Everything will go just beautifully. You know how to get there. It’s just a few blocks off the Main Street of town.
‘The doc may want to try and get a few extra bucks out of you, but hold the line and say, “Well, Doctor Garcia, Foster said that it was 200 dollars and that’s all we brought and here it is,” and take it out of your pocket.
‘He’ll look a little nervous and then he’ll take it and put it in his pocket without counting it and then he’s just like the best doctor in the whole wide world. Have faith in him and do what he says and relax and everything will be all right.
‘He’s a wonderful doctor. He saves a lot of people a lot of trouble.’
‘…’ I said.
‘I promise I won’t take down that swishy little bell of yours with the silver pants and put up a tin can with a spoon, which would be the best bell for this asylum. Have you ever heard one?’ Foster said.
‘…’ I said.
‘I’m sorry about that. It’s an awfully pretty sound. So beautiful to the spirit and so soothing to the nerves.’
‘…’ I said.
‘That’s a real shame,’ Foster said.
‘…’ I said.
‘I didn’t know you felt that way about it,’ Foster said.
‘…’ I said.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t harm a brick on this library’s head. I’ll treat your library like a child’s birthday cake in a little yellow box that I’m carrying home in my arms from the bakery because carrying it by the string would be too risky.
‘I’ve got to be careful of that dog up ahead. He might bite me and I’d drop the cake. There, I’m past him. Good dog.
‘Oh, oh, there’s a little lady coming towards me. Got to be careful. She might have a heart attack and collapse in front of me and I might trip over her body. I won’t take my eyes off her. There, she’s passing me. Everything’s going to be all right. Your library is safe,’ Foster said.
‘…’ Vida said, laughing.
‘Thank you, honey,’ Foster said.
‘…’ I said.
‘I love this place,’ Foster said.
‘…’ I said.
‘I’ll treat your patrons like saintly eggshells. I won’t break one of them,’ Foster said.
‘…’ Vida said, laughing.
‘Oh, honey, you’re too nice,’ Foster said.
‘…’ I said.
‘Stop worrying, kid. I know what I’m supposed to do and I’ll do it the best I can and that’s all I can say,’ Foster said.
‘…’ Vida said.
‘Isn’t it the truth and he’s not old either. He’s just a kid,’ Foster said.
‘…’ I said.
‘I don’t think I ever really appreciated the peace and quiet, the downhomeness of the caves until now. You’ve opened up a whole new world for me, kid. I should get down on my hands and knees and thank you with all my heart for what you’ve done.’
‘…’ I said.
‘Ah, California!’ Foster said.
Foster insisted on carrying our bag out to the van. It was light and halfway through the dawn. Foster was busy sweating away in his T-shirt, even though we found the morning to be a little chilly.
During the years that I had known Foster, I’d never seen him when he wasn’t sweating. It was probably brought about by the size of his heart. I was always certain that his heart was as big as a cantaloup and sometimes I went to sleep thinking about the size of Foster’s heart.
Once Foster’s heart appeared to me in a dream. It was on the back of a horse and the horse was going into a bank and the bank was being pushed off a cloud. I couldn’t see what was pushing the bank off, but it’s strange to think what would push a bank off a cloud with Foster’s heart in it, falling past the sky.
‘What do you have in this bag?’ Foster said. ‘It’s so light I don’t think there’s anything in it.’
He was following after Vida who led the way with a delightful awkwardness, looking so perfect and beautiful as not to be with us, as to be alone in some different contemplation of the spirit or an animal stepladder to religion.
‘Never you mind our secrets,’ Vida said, not turning back.
‘How would you like to visit my rabbit trap someday? Foster said.
‘And be your Bunny girl?’ Vida said.
‘I guess you’ve heard that one,’ Foster said.
‘I’ve heard them all.’
‘I’ll bet you have,’ Foster said, falling cleanly past the sky.
There were leftover pieces of blank white paper on the sidewalk from the woman last night. They looked terribly alone. Foster put our little bag in the van.
‘There’s your bag in the van. Now you’re sure you know how to drive this thing?’ Foster said. ‘It’s a van.’
‘Yes, I know how to drive a van. I know how to drive anything that has wheels. I’ve even flown an aeroplane,’ Vida said.
‘An aeroplane?’ Foster said.
‘I flew one up in Montana a few summers ago. It was fun,’ Vida said.
‘You don’t look like the aeroplane-flying type,’ Foster said. ‘Hell, a few summers ago you were in the cradle. Are you sure you weren’t flying a stuffed toy?’
‘Don’t worry about your van,’ Vida said, returning the conversation from the sky to the ground.
‘You’ve got to drive carefully,’ Foster said. ‘This van has its own personality.’
‘It’s in good hands,’ Vida said. ‘My God, you’re almost as bad with your van as he is with his library.’
‘Damn! all right,’ Foster said. ‘Well, I’ve told you what to do and now I guess you’d better go and do it. I’ll stay here and take care of the asylum while you’re gone. I imagine it won’t be dull if that lady I met last night is any example of what’s going on here.’
There were pieces of white paper on the ground.
Foster put his arms around both of us and gave us a very friendly, consoling hug as if to say with his arms that everything was going to be all right and he would see us in the evening.
‘Well, kids, good luck.’
‘Thank you very much,’ Vida said, turning and giving Foster a kiss on the cheek. They looked heroically like father and daughter around each other’s arms and cheek to cheek in the classic style that has brought us to these years.
‘In you go,’ Foster said.
We got into the van. It suddenly felt awfully strange for me to be in a vehicle again. The metallic egg-like quality of the van was very surprising and in some ways I had to discover the Twentieth Century all over again.
Foster stood there on the curb carefully watching Vida at the controls of the van.
‘Ready?’ she said, turning towards me with a little smile on her face.
‘Yeah, it’s been a long time,’ I said. ‘I feel as if I’m in a time machine.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘Just relax. I know what I’m doing.’
‘Al1 right,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’
Vida started the van as if she had been born to the instrument panel, to the wheel and to the pedals.
‘Sounds good,’ Vida said.
Foster was pleased with her performance, nodding at her as if she were an equal. Then he gave her the go signal and she took it and we were off to visit Dr Garcia who was waiting for us that very day in Tijuana, Mexico.