chapter*Dad
“textscLiss, get your things. Liss. Let’s go. Winnie..”
“You want me to give Jacobi a message?”
“Bye Winnie.”
“Bye Liss. You want me to give Jacobi a message?”
“Not really. No.”
We’re headed out the door.
“Winnie, you were going to show me a picture of your vista.”
Winnie looks at me, then at Liss. “I’ll text it to you.”
“So what’s Winnie’s vista?”
It’s me and Liss in the elevator.
“It’s this place she goes. She goes hiking.”
Everyone needs a vista.
“Does Winnie have your number?”
Liss nods. “I gave it to her.”
“You want sushi?”
Liss nods again.
We’re at Sushi Row. This guy named Dan is making our stuff. “Tiger roll..and..a Special Dan Roll—”
“With extra Special Dan Sauce,” Liss says, and coming from my nine-year-old, this makes me cringe.
“Difficult day at the office, Mr. Richard?” Then he says: “Your eyes,” before I can even ask him how he knows.
Everyone needs a vista.
Everyone needs that silent place, that place where the light goes out forever, where dirt touches sky, and there is no one else around. Our lives don’t allow it, and I don’t know how it is in other countries, but you can’t be fully American without a vista. Without a peak. Without the desert, canyon, sky. Without the West. You actually have to drive west once in a while to remain an American, or to become one. You can’t just emphbe west. You have to be east, then go west, to be an American. Once you do that you can go east again. But after a while of being east, you have to renew it by going west again. It’s like those emergency beacons in submarines. If you don’t reset it every 24 hours, it dislodges from the ship and goes away.
Floating to the top.
Flashing for help from some sky above the ocean.
Rocked on the seas, that point below Argentina.
Some tiny flicker, tiny flashlight floating on the waves for a day.
“Where is Winnie’s vista?”
“What?” Liss has the sushi trays.
“Where is Winnie’s vista?”
“It’s over there.” Liss points with her face. “Above the lake.”
I look outside.
In the middle of the day, in the heat, in the sun, this guy is coming across the face of Sushi Row. I can tell it’s a guy: hairy legs sticking out of board shorts, feet in Tevas. The top half of him is a rabbit, pink fur, plush suit. His head turns and looks at us inside Sushi Row and I can’t tell if the guy can see or not—through giant black eyes.
“Mr. Richard. Your credit card.”
The rabbit is ahead of us, and as we get closer to Sharks, I can tell he’s going the same place we are.
The back of the suit has a tail.
The legs are unzipped, plush dragging.
Giant ears: one straight-up, one flopped-over.
Somebody’s having a party.
“Liss?”
“Dad?”
“Do you mind if we hang out a while?”
“No problem for me.” She has sushi in her mouth and almost drops the trays.
“How many of those do you have under there?”
“Six. Fine with me if we hang out.” My daughter finishes chewing. “I gotta give Candy her Barbarian roll.”
“How much was all this?”
“You can take it out of my savings,” Liss says, going into Sharks. “Candy.” Liss is pointing at the tray, which she’s opened and borrowed pieces from.
Pila’s gone.
Candy comes over and the two of them are shuffling around pieces of sushi.
I make myself a drink.
The rabbit comes out of the bathroom. He sits at the bar. Candy slides up on the marble and puts her ass in his direction. The rabbit shuffles up Candy’s shirt, easing both sides up, showing her skin.
Furry paws upon her.
“Do you want anything?” I’ve got Tang 10 shots set up on the bar.
“Richard,” Candy says, taking off the rabbit’s headpiece. “This is my boyfriend. Cock: Richard. Richard: Cock.”
And I’m shaking a rabbit’s hand.
Cock has maybe a $10,000 watch.
“You drinking?”
Cock throws down a yellow pad. “Yeah.” He kisses Candy’s chest. “Is this guy the fucking bartender? Fucking bartender in a suit.”
“Drink up jackfuck, before it thaws. Liss.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t repeat that. Sometimes word.”
“Jackfuck? Got it.”
Candy takes the Tang 10 from me. “I’ll do that.” She slides off the bar.
“Fucking bartender in a suit. Who the fuck emphare you?”
Liss is of course quietly munching sushi, minding her own business.
I hop over the bar. Now Cock and I are seated about the corner. I drink my shot. Cock isn’t drinking his. I drink his. Candy pours me another from the mixer cup, straining it. There are only tiny bits of ice. “I’m Richard. Who the fuck are you?”
“Richard’s one of my regulars. You two will like each other. You’re the only two men I know who know how to drink.”
“And what the fuck do you do?” This is Cock talking to me.
“Fucking. Work with retarded children.”
“That’s true,” Liss says.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I do?” Cock says.
I say: “Not really,” and I’m feeling the Tang 10 slide down my throat.
Candy makes me another one.
Cock says: “I like this guy already.”
cfsection textsc“What are they drinking?”
“Barbarian rolls.”
“No they’re not. emphWhat are they drinking?”
“Barbarian rolls. Wait. There’s no such thing.”
Then Cock has his arm around the back of my head and he slaps it. “I fucking love this guy. Where the hell did you come from?”
Liss is inside. Candy is watching her. Cock and I are on a bench in front of Sharks.
Cock has two new cigarettes lit for us and I take mine.
I flick my current one into the rock garden.
“That’s disrespectful,” Cock says.
I say: “It’s been that kind of day.”
“You should come to the pool with us,” Cock says. He leans inside Sharks and grabs a handful of match boxes. He’s relighting an already-lit cigarette, covering its tip with another flame, sleeves of the rabbit suit hanging off the edge of the bench. “How did you and Candy meet?”
“I come in here a lot.”
“Did she come on to you?”
“Not—” I’m stuck at the word.
“Not as much as you wanted her too yeah yeah she’s like that fucking cunt—but I love er—fuck. I love that girl. You see how we are.”
“Yeah.”
“Right?”
“Yeah.”
“Candy!” Cock stands up. “Bring us another motherfucking emphdrink!”
Candy yells from inside. Pila must be on an errand. “What the fuck do you want?”
Cock looks at me.
“G & Ts.”
“GIN and TONICS, bitch,” Cock says, “Get us some gin and tonics.”
“You want more of the same?”
Cock throws his matchbox at the opposite wall. That’s a Morgan Stanley. Over there. That side of the courtyard is Morgan Stanley. Cock is leaning inside Sharks. “Does the bear have a fucking pointy hat? Yeah. More of the same.”
“I wasn’t asking you,” Candy says. “I was asking Richard.”
“Yeah.” I stand. “Liss: y’allright?” (Liss nods.)
“She’s fine. We’re fine, aren’t we?” Candy says. “Why don’t you light me a cigarette?”
“Come out,” I say, “Smoke this one.”
Cock is looking at me. “She’s gonna smoke that one?”
I just laugh.
“My girlfriend..is gonna smoke your cigarette?”
“Yeah,” I say—and then I lower my voice: “What do you think we’ve been doing all this time, waiting for you to get here? Drink gin and tonics?”
“She sucks a mean cock doesn’t she?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“She’s never sucked your cock, has she?” Cock asks.
“It’s not for a lack of trying,” I say.
“What?” Cock says. He legitimately doesn’t hear me.
“I said,”—I flick my cigarette and it sparks on the Morgan Stanley window—”I said it’s not for a fucking lack of trying.”
For a second Cock is trying to figure out whether to believe me. And for a second I’m trying to figure out just how crazy Cock is. Then he puts his arms around my waist—and this rabbit is huge—and he picks me up—this guy is fifteen years younger than me—and he’s lifting me up above his shoulders and twirling us both around in the rock garden and this Morgan Stanley lackey is pulling down his shades and Candy brings the drinks out and she’s sitting on top of us both in the rock garden and there’s my little daughter standing in the doorway to Sharks and she’s holding up a fish in her hand and the fish is dripping and flopping around and Liss is gripping it in both hands and Candy spills the drinks and I’m not actually sure who is licking up some Tanqueray 10 off my arm and Cock is whispering in Candy’s ear “Let him come to the pool with us” and Candy’s like “I already invited him to the pool” and I’m like “Is emphhe invited?” and Candy is the first of us to realize that Liss has SHARK! out of his cage and the poor fucker is trying to breathe out of water and I’m lying there with Cock while the camera turns sideways and Candy has spills all over her and she’s working with Liss on the fish and there’s a guy on the balcony looking down at the rock garden and Cock is standing there throwing matchbooks up at the guy and yelling about getting his inventory in and how he’ll fax it in an hour and it’s Friday afternoon and produce doesn’t have to be in till Monday at noon and nobody ever checks it anyway and the guy is ducking matchboxes as Cock chucks them upstairs even through the guy’s open door after he goes back inside.
“Fucking asshole.”
“Shut up! Baby! Help me here!” Candy’s squealing. “Didn’t you just sign an extension with that motherfucker?”
“Fuck him!” Cock is saying. He dips down and picks up a rock from the rock garden. He throws it at the guy’s door and it lands somewhere inside the office. “Ronnie. Fuck yourself. I’ll fax it to you on Monday. I’ll fax you the fucking thing. I’ll fax it to you in an hour. Fucking guy.” Cock sits in the rock garden and fishes around for his cigarette, which is still burning in the pebbles.
This is when I realize the Morgan Stanley guy is watching me from the side of his window. And his secretary is watching us from the other side of the window. I slam my elbow through the glass, and part of my arm is inside their office. There’s glass on the copier. Something’s printing so I grab a sheet and take it with me. It’s page 10 of 17. I fish around on the copy table. There’s a red button on the front. I press it. “Save you some power,” I say.