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“That’s good,” exclaimed Conrad, a little surprised. He’d never heard it summed up so simply. “And nothingness is behind everything.” “I wrote a term paper on existentialism.”
“Did you readNausea ?”
“Yes. You have too?”
“It’s my favorite. The part where he’s in a park looking at the roots of a chestnut tree, and the persistence of matter begins to disgust him ... ugh!” Conrad looked at a nearby tree, trying to summon up Roquentin’s nausea.
“This river,” said Dee slowly, “it’s been here for hundreds of years. It’ll be here for hundreds more.”
“We could live in this cave,” observed Conrad. “Build fires and catch fish.” “Not in the winter.”
“Do you believe in God, Dee?”
“Don’t you?”
“I ... I don’t think so. Not really. Not like in church, anyway. Maybe the universe is God?”
“That’s called pantheism. Everything fits together into a whole, and that Whole is God.”
“That’s like my own theory.” Conrad explained about death and the life-force.
“Are you always so deep, Conrad?” She was smiling into his eyes. He’d caught her fancy.
“I ... I think I’m different from other people. I think maybe I can ...”
“Can what?”
“I think I might be able to levitate. You know? Fly.”
“Let’s see.”
Conrad strained, and rose up maybe an inch from the rock they were sitting on. But he fell back right away, and then it wouldn’t work at all.
“You just stood up a little,” laughed Dee. “You’re wild, Conrad.” She paused and gave him a pert look. “You know what I thought you were going to say at first? When you said you’re different from other people?”
“What?”
Dee’s voice grew flat with tension. “I thought you were going to tell me that you ...masturbate .”
“Uh ... well, I do, as a matter of fact.”
“So do I. Most girls do.”
“You do?”
“I do it every night.”
This was incredible. “So do I, nearly. We call it ‘beating off.’ I found out about it when I was twelve. I’d be lying in bed, and for some reason I’d start thinking about naked women with big breasts. A whole stream of them—each woman would march into my room, smile, and march out. One after the other. And my bee would get real hard and I’d rub it.”
“Your what?”
“We called it a bee. What did your family call your ... your ...”
“We called it the cushy. I used to rub my cushy way before I was twelve. I did it even when I was real little. I used to think of it as ‘my bestest spot.’ ” They both giggled wildly.
This was just incredible. Conrad grabbed Dee and pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. He took one of her hands and pressed it in his crotch to feel his boner. She drew her hand back, but she kept kissing him. They kissed for so long that Conrad came in his pants. Dee noticed the stain.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“I like you, Dee. All trillion of my sperms like you.”
They joined the others for lunch. For the whole lunch, Conrad was on a cloud. Dee knew he had a dick, and she’d seen him come. Maybe he wasn’t going to have to wait for nuclear war after all.
When Conrad got back to Louisville and told Hank about his new girl, Hank made fun of him.
“Decca? That phony? And you didn’t even get tit off her?”
“Look, Hank, I made out with her for a long time. I even came in my pants. And she’s readNausea .”
“Bo-way. I heard the cops caught her naked with Billy Ballhouse in a car last fall.”
“Oh, shut up. Do you know what pantheism is?”
“Sure. It’s a bunch of dumb shits kneeling in front of a rock.” Hank began laughing uncontrollably, and offeringsalaams to his radio. “O voice from sky, please speak me heap truth.”
Conrad waited for his friend’s laughter to die down. “What if I told you I could fly, Hank?”
“Is this one of yourTwilight Zone stories? Remember the one you made up about coming from a flying saucer?” Hank’s mood of mockery had passed. “I’m all ears, Conrad. For my money, you’re a fucking genius.”
“It only lasted a second. It was on the way down to the conference center—we all stopped for food, and I was walking to the supermarket. I tripped on the sidewalk, and instead of falling, I just hung there.
Maybe I’m some kind of mutant, Hank.” “Did you tell Decca?”
“I mentioned it. She was excited, but she didn’t believe me.”
“That’s just as well. You know, if you really did turn out to have any superpowers, Conrad, it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell everyone. People hate mutants.” Hank was laughing again. “Gunjy mue.”
Chapter 5:
Saturday, May 4, 1963 “Blatz beer, I don’t believe it. I thought that was only a kind of beer in comic books.” Conrad threw back his head and laughed. God, he felt wonderful. Drunk on the first Saturday in May.
“We’ve got Falstaff, too,” said Jim Ardmore with his dark sly smirk. “Not to mention Mr. Leggett’s liquor cabinet.”
“You all stay out of the liquor,” cautioned Do
“That was Bunger on a rampage,” chortled Ardmore. “He came up here with his friend Hank Larsen and stole a bottle from your house. It’s the gospel truth. The good word.”
Conrad shrugged and opened his beer. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was Derby Day, and all the grown-ups were at the track. Conrad and a bunch of Chevalier guys were getting drunk together at Do
“When I know I’m going to have a chance to get drunk, I get all twitchy, like a junkie, and then after the first drink, I’m so relaxed.” Conrad gri
Some of the cooler Chevalier boys were there, too. Billy Ballhouse, Worth Wadsworth, and Custer Buckingham. They didn’t like the way Conrad was acting. It was ungentlemanly.
When Conrad lurched out of the pool and began trying to open his fourth Blatz, Ballhouse spoke up.
“Take it easy, Bunger. You’ve got all afternoon.” “You want money for beer, Ballhouse? Maybe you should make a run. Where’s the beer opener?”
“I mean, Do
He put all his attention into getting two triangles punched into the top of his beer can. But then someone was shoving him. Ballhouse. “You can’t talk to me that way, Bunger. Apologize.”
“Sure, Billy. I’m sorry you’re a dipshit.”
Ardmore howled with delight, and Leggett burst into giggles. Ballhouse shook his head and gave up.
“Come on,” he called to Wadsworth and Buckingham. “Let’s go pick up some stuff.”
“Would you get me a half-pint?” put in Conrad.
“I’m sorry, Conrad.” The contempt on Ballhouse’s face was profound. “Girls don’t come in half-pints.” Pause. “I’m surprised Dee would have anything to do with a drunk like you.”
There was a whole fridge of beer, and the three remaining boys spent the rest of the afternoon working on it. At some point the Derby was on TV. Watching it, Conrad realized he was seeing double. It was time to leave. He and Ardmore decided to go to Sue Pohlboggen’s house.
“Can you drive?” asked Ardmore.
“Sure, Jim. I used to race these things in South Korea.” Conrad revved the VW’s engine to a chattering scream.
There was a long gravel driveway leading downhill from the Leggetts’ house to River Road. It felt like a crunchy sliding board. So that he wouldn’t have to use the brakes, Conrad began slaloming, swooping back and forth from left to right, faster and ... suddenly everything was wrong. The steering wheel