Читаем Fall and Rise полностью

“Because who knows what one can get into? I was younger — what the hell — it was twenty years ago and I found a way out and bolted. I didn’t know what to do with my life but knew I didn’t want to not know what I didn’t want to do with — Anyway, now I see things clearer, am a lot more confident about my life, want less, struggle more — rather I expect little than want less and what I know I’m willing to put up with for my feelings and ideas, etcetera, and so on. That was no good. I think I’d say to the army now to give me this instead of that, and take it. I would. But if they didn’t give me this but that, which was gun-holding and in basic training, bullet-dodging and latrine-cleaning, and later in the service possible man-killing, I’d say no and take the consequences — I think. Though someone has to clean the latrines, you might say. We wouldn’t be a good match, the army and I, or that’s what their psychiatrist said after I played it to the hilt to get myself psyched out, so I suppose I’d have to be put to the test. Of being called up again and what I’d do. I don’t know…”

“Too late for that now,” ponytailed man says.

“The gray shows, eh?” fingering a sideburn.

“What about the accident where you almost died? That’s one I want to hear the end of, since I’ve a long interest in everything automobile. It rules the universe, you know. TV’s too.”

“It was the other driver who almost died. And thanks for taking me off the subject — both, my hair too. It — actually, I don’t care about my hair except when the sides look like feathers coming out. ‘Bozo the Clown,’ my junior high school students, when—”

“You see? TV. So my case is closed. Continue — don’t mind me.”

“Come on, you don’t want me to. And I’ve got to go.”

“You crazy? In the middle? Man dying on the road and we’re leaving him there? You have to.”

“Okay. Colorado — the accident. Still all right by you?” to the shorter man. He nods. “A few years after the army — psyching out. Probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but so what. And I’m driving drunk down a mountain road — coasting — I was that inexperienced with cars, having just learned how to drive, and I turned off the ignition to save on the gas — I was also that broke. Anyway, the road’s dark, though I was smart enough to keep my headlights on — running the battery, if that’s what it’s called, and I think I also liked the idea of driving soundlessly. None of this would be so clear, by the way, if it hadn’t been such an experience. But where was I?”

“Down the road—” shorter man says.

“When my car suddenly stops. No, wheels didn’t lock — that’s what happens, you’re about to say, right? when coasting with the motor off — but my fender’s been smashed against the front left wheel. Of course I had to get out of the car to see this. How’d it happen? Must’ve been in an accident, blanked out. But just before that I was singing to some radio music same time I’m yelling out the window something like ‘Hey stars, beautiful stars, look at me, city slicker in country Colorado, yippie pippie yeh,’ so not so soundlessly. But if the ignition was off, radio couldn’t be on, at least in that car.”

“That’s what I was about to ask,” ponytailed man says. “What year Olds and what style?”

“Good questions. Anyway, I’m looking at my car and think I must’ve hit a tree. When I see, back up the road a few hundred feet, a tiny car with its headlights pointing to the sky perpendicularly. But this is silly. You don’t want me—”

“Don’t start. Continue.”

“Some other cars stopped. I’ll tell you what kind of guy I was then. Worse than a young idiot and mistakes. I wouldn’t do anything like it today. Oh, little lies and mistakes today — but then, before any other car stopped, I got back in my car and tried to drive away, but it wouldn’t move. Fender against wheel. So I got out as if for the first time, since some cars had stopped behind me, and with some people walked back to the tiny car.”

“Dead.”

“I won’t say yet, for the story’s sake, but anyway, we already said he wasn’t, but his sports car was totaled. Doors still closed. Windows smashed in a way where they were still in their frames but you couldn’t see inside.”

“Safety glass. Supposed to do that. Must have been German- or Swedish-make. For glass, that far back, they were the best.”

“Door windows made of plastic and slashed but intact. Someone said ‘Shouldn’t one of us see what’s inside?’ but no one wanted to open the door.”

“You blame them?” shorter man says.