LOST HIGHWAY

by Zac Funstein

“Alarico-I don’t wanna be unkind but is a name that would go on a plinth for wrong things.”

  Marino seemed to close in then even intensify.

  “Just some guy who opens/closes -I don’t believe that any special talent is his. Why don’t I take you there that is probably the better answer-it will give you a chance to make up your own opinion.”

  A date was duly made-after all this might be the progenitor of the new penicillin they might get a Nobel Prize or some other mantlepiece dust gatherer. Nothing ventured nothing gained- still held firm. Boni was glad to get out of somewhere so claustrophobic-all this stuff about dust was making him colicky. What if everywhere got too polluted we had nowhere to go but this planet even though this was getting a cliche.

  Marino was waiting when Boni arrived. It wasn’t like they were overcrowded like before just the garage with a lonely figure outside. Soft spoken Cesio said:

  “I was expecting something more hangar-like somehow.”

  “Didn’t want to disappoint you especially there you go-can’t win them all. Doesn’t seem to be Alarico anywhere.”

  Someone did arrive eventually who seemed to be wrestling with a set of keys who introduced themselves as Tranquillo Onio-a jobsworth as Alarico was of similar build upbringing-when younger a Goth now all pretensions to fashion were dropped. This wasn’t a classic case of mistaken identity-Alarico’s mother who was very ill had been taken to hospital by her son. Tranquillo was standing in. After the keys were inserted with some aggression there was a whoosh of cold air as the castors once again began to move.

  “We’ve just had the Hyundai Accent in belonging to the Abelardo Milanesi controversy-never have I seen a more mangled heap of metal.”

  Abelardo allegedly smothered Mrs. Milanesi with a pillowcase.

  It was the classical case of the desirable mistress with a nagging wife that seems to resurface throughout history with hackneyed regularity. Every public defender knew it wow that such bothersome annoyances would go away.

  Tranquilo was well known for his loud, ill-timed eructions which he would inevitably let loose during pauses in his guidances today however blissfully his callers were allowed to explore the vehicle unaided without the various tirades sometimes given.

  The Schreiber Volvo seemed to awaken some recognizance in both men-some social-scientist feature that had lain dormant for a while. It was as if they were pleased to have it before them lest they be caught unawares in future.

  “Well Cesio do you find a chain reaction being set off within you-can your Antarctic refinement be applied here?”

  “Nothing to the contrary takes governorship within us,” whispered Cesio touching the metal-surface as if they were in somewhere holy. “Naturally my indispensible props will be necessary to augment what I assume, but I believe it is a safe bet yes.”

  It was like Marino was having what they called an ‘aha’ moment. It is hard to define patrimony sometimes-it isn’t just physical property that our fathers leave us but a sense of the indefatigable-a desire not to give up.

  “What do you call it this aid which will help us Cesio?”

  “My pragmatic adapter-it is inexhaustive once set up. If you enroll in its capabilities then I believe it will be diligent in helping us. It is not inhumane in that respect. But will you leave us for a while to determine that which is contingent.”

  It did seem that something seemed to preoccupy him when they first arrived thus his request was acceded to. No race seemed to be on to overproduce answers that was for sure-there had been no rumours or anything overheard! All the input they had thus far had produced the ubiquitous zilch.The billboard was choking with dead-girls but no one wanted to seem to come forward to want to help. Boni watched as Cesio circumnavigated the Volvo. It wasn’t like there was a congregational gathering worldwide united in solving this-in the absence of any alternative.

  “There must be those who have fantasies of desecrating this lump of metal somewhere.” “That is why they get locked up regularly-that does happen sometimes. Certain famous-names seemed to be reserved for especial contempt. Settimio Napolitani would tell you.” Settimio might be something of a highly strung chauvinist but his inclusion in the Marino Mafia named after the ‘Memphis Mafia,’ which in turn was an emulation of Frank Sinatra's famous pack was enshrined for good. Untaught by conventional methodology Settimio none-the-less had his own unique approach.

  “Bring this Settimio here if you believe it will make all this speed up. If Napolitani can pass a security check then his entitlement to stand where you are now is the same as yours.”

  “I don’t believe it is necessary for I act as a spokesman for us all-Napolitani included.”

  If the truth be known Settimio did not like confined spaces- igloos or even here with its hangar like pretensions would give him grief. Such was like someone who had given him deceitful ecstasy which sent the pack-adherent in the opposite direction at great speed.

  Last year, some began wearing a New Agey charm purported to enhance performance under stress Pavel Němec was one such person. Pavel happened to be the one who was deemed suitable to take over from Melo after his success with the Jaroslav Vorel slimming-aid disaster. It did seem that the loss of certainty about what Canada stands for-a broader sense of despair/ loss of confidence in belief/values was being plugged by men like Němec.

  Guilherme since largely considered out of his depth had to concede defeat. Pavel of above average height (not to be confused with the small-town childrens-home abductions in Beaumont rumored to be orchestrated by an ominous figure known as ‘the Altitudinous Man’) clad in a long overcoat wearing a balaclava against the early chill was waiting at a station. Pulling into the adjacent car-park was like stepping into a time-warp-for nearby was an Oldsmobile station wagon followed closely by a Chevrolet Impala-all in new condition as if straight from some mythical past. Some sinister seeming characters got out but didn’t do anything untoward.

  Upon finding the platform after purchasing his ticket, a man walked to the end not seeming to notice Němec-but watching everyone that idly went past with a curiosity uniquely his own. When the train arrived they both got in the same car.

  Němec puts his briefcase down to establish territory (using a security chain to discretely secure it), then moves up the carriage to where the other man got on except ‘other man’ isn’t there. Upon his return, ‘creepy rail guy’ is already reading a magazine, ‘Sudoku lady’ is scribbling numbers in squares in the newspaper column.

  The travelling knitters across the aisle who are busy moving their needles back/ forth-must pray their destination is soon or their scarves will touch the ground for they are generating garments so fast. It must have been the almost freeze-dried atmosphere inside that didn't disturb this activity. Those of us who are uncomfortable with their opposite gender would surely find it hard to overcome the anxieties that underlie their discomfort on seeing such a spectacle. One of these knitters rather typical of her kind, an antiseptically clean, worried-looking member of their ranks, with allegiance to duty written all over her-proudly lifts up a baby jacket for everyones approval. The rest of the carriage give delighted ahs. Nearby some oriental personage is remonstrating with his son. Pavel cannot make out what was being said only 'hello' / 'goodbye' which is the same in Vietnamese: 'chao'. The man that was standing at the end of the station is sat now by the briefcase. It is Girmay Senay -the desired contact Němec realises without knowing why. Immediately opposite Girmay is a man wearing a suit, beside him someone attired in the clothes of a railroad worker; still another who figures in this story is dressed in a plaid shirt.They continue their journey oblivious of the interchange that passes. They are a daunting bunch, none of them looking particularly happy-as the train trundled on its merry track stopping occasionally at some wayside station, indeed the snatches of their dynamic that slipped in interrupting only confirmed this.

  Girmay who is wearing a long-sleeve button-down shirt with a striped tie (this was tucked into a pair of trou
sers that looked tight/ uncomfortable) was the person to get the lowdown on the traditional Chinese medicine slimming aid called Qing zhisan tain shou, which contains the prescription-only medicine sibutramine. The Medicines/ Healthcare products Regulatory Agency (MHRA) has become aware of the supply had recommended him. Girmay was first to begin.

  “You must forgive my reticence in meeting you but I have had some trouble of a legal nature recently-a repeat performance was not anticipated.”

  “Feel free to share this if it is not too painful.”

  “Our packaging for Qing zhisan tain shou was compared with that of a rival Oeaslimmin who deemed we’d airlifted their gestalt impression to our own pack. I might have the file on the case here somewhere.”

  His own effects are hunted through with the other passengers watching distractedly-the railroad worker is giving especial attention.

  “Doesn’t seem to be here Němec.”

  “Perhaps if you can tell us what the crux of the dispute was.”

  “Koerschner Pharmaceuticals said that we used their packaging which was some electronic padded scales plus a model who was in an oversized bathing suit. It is a little old fashioned in this age of awareness of world-poverty but there you go. It was deemed the motifs were too cliched anyway on the basis of the Netuazorra debacle.”

  “Netuazorra make razors I believe.”

  “Netuazorra got into a metaphorical fight with Razornet who made a rival electrical shaving product. The court attempted to show that Netuazorra’s advertising associating the rotary cutting feature with a machismo world of sports-cars plus spinning roulette wheels was too general-like Oeaslimmins ‘A moment on the sips is a lifetime on the zips’ campaign.”

  “Were the aggrieved parties satisfied when all this was unfurled?”

  “Not especially-they said that Razornet had their chrome logo clearly visible-moreover the macho thing had been so often done that it was open season as far as anyone using it was concerned.”

  In a quiet voice, Girmay vented the anger that seemed to underlie the day, complaining of weak justice so much so that Němec was loath to stop him lest his therapy stop. There was a lot of stuff going on in him that probably would never come out-it was good that some of it was given vent. Senay had lately given to online charities, which upset his mother; who subsequently died, so the fellow traveller felt guilty/ repentant - that his action of donating was somehow the cause.

  When an almost stranger breaks down in tears, the reader can surmise that this person is ashamed/ repentant about something.

  “Could you find Qing zhisan tain shou in even very small amounts?”

  “It would be difficult-it would take a lot of complicated math. Far better to search for the Sheshy Medhane process that stabilizes it-this is more recognisable than the Qing zhisan tain shou itself. There are several that do it-it’s quite profitable-you’ll have to hunt around.”

  The man who seemed dressed like a construction worker (which just went to show appearances can be deceptive) got up then gave Girmay what at first seemed like a Japanese meishi card coated with a UV glossy coat. Němec could just make out what was written.

  If you are someone who is anxious or having a problem do come along to this clinic where you can discuss in confidence any matters you need to.

  “Give us a call if you’re depressed,” said the man who’d got up. “I’m sure that we can alleviate your anxiety.”

  Someone who had been a close friend of Sheshy Medhane who had only just recently died agreed to a meeting with Pavel, though Němec was only given an address on a card rather like the passenger had given-a rural route address- no telephone-or e-mail.

  Knowing ourselves is knowing what we do when we feel threatened, either by disconfirmation or by adverse events. Pavel found that as the card was perused almost being transported to when a teenager having been given a letter for the Salvation Army hostel in the East End of London-where his parents were told that they would detox him. They had emigrated before the offer could be taken up however-the addiction too seemingly being left behind; they were allowed at least for a brief while before the old habits reasserted themselves.

  The drive was comfortable anyway that much succour could be taken. The car swayed back/ forth with gusts of wind- the endless drumming of the engine bringing some relief. The outskirts of town had its own little enclave, full of expats, whoever it was would be stuck in their own comfortable culture there. The person who greeted him on the verandah of his address which seemed as if made of disused factory pallets was holding aloft a cheap umbrella, alternating one glove to the other (to hold its crudely seamed shiny plastic handle). This person introduced himself as Gabriel Selassie.

  Gabriel could be summed up with one description- tiny. In direct proportion to the hype around him, which was Pavel learnt huge.

  Němec was later to quote ‘I couldn’t believe it when this waifish child walked out into the cold, dressed in a neatly pressed suit with a starchy shirt plus pencil thin tie so linear it was almost invisible, a slick bob perched on top passed as a crewcut-but the linear tie was really the everything. His voice was high-pitched with a Northern accent that became more distinguishable as the meeting wore on’. Most interesting to him, Selassie proved not to be a performer which was refreshing, not like most people you meet today. Indeed this was someone often not terribly articulate, but instead genuine even direct. Němec had been expecting a super-cool member of the science-literati, a tad pretentious but sharp none-the-less-a first-class science manual writer. Really Pavel hadn’t been expecting him to be so…concerned or so-cagey. Pavel was told from the start that there must be no photography, reading up on Gabriel online afterwards this was him to a tee. There was nothing on whether Selassie was married or not-such had never been released-no other half or any cohabitee was ever met.

  “I couldn’t help notice your admiring of here as you drove up in your new Mitsubishi ASX. Let us tell you a little of how this was built. But please Mr. Němec-for I detect that is who you are let us step inside.”

  “That would be nice Gabriel.”

  The round little home was half below ground, so was therefore much larger than it appeared outside. It was warm too, the small portable stove heaped with coal burned evenly. Pavel could almost hear his friend anarchist/communist Lavinia Ribeiro Cardoso who would often moan ‘I’ve had enough of witnessing the destruction of my working class heritage, watching it being stripped of its dignity- worst of all, colluding in its own destruction because of being flung desire-objects like this as temptation’. Lavinia wouldn’t have liked here remotely.

  Every once in a while replenishments were heaped on with an iron coal scuttle which then sizzled contentedly.

  “This all began when I was a student- Massawa Brhane had my court date set for the following Easter believing that delaying it would work to my benefit.”

  “You were on bail-I can’t quite see how this fits in!”

  “Massawa was my hot-shot drug lawyer-I’d been charged with smuggling whilst on holiday in Sonaria. Brhane was good at getting out of a tight niche. It was early Xmas period everything was building up-it was time to drive to meet the parents in San Diego plus check where my sis Phillipa was at-everything was chaos.”

  “I’m confused Gabriel!”

  “I had gone through my grant in an instance so couldn’t afford a plane ticket. I heard there was a bulletin board in the fraternity dorm where people put up requests to share travel expenses. Now this is a recognised online phenomena but then the arrangements were less organized-there wasn’t so much choice if someone had a ride you jumped at it. I posted a request: ‘Wanted desperately a ride to San Diego. Am willing to provide gas, oil plus free counselling’. I left in the DKE my mobile numb plus my e-mail.”

  “What happened after that attempt to help yourself?”

  “I was sure nobody was going to take the rap especially the bit about counselling-I was going to revise it when I got a message from Furuta Omar. Furuta
wasn’t sure if I was serious or not but when it was found that it was we seemed we were made for each other. Furuta might not have made the cover of Vogue or Cosmopolitan but I found myself liking her tomboyish personality.”

  “You got on with Furuta by the sounds of it. That’s a female trick ‘acting like one of the boys’ to get us to like them.”

  “I liked the hippie free love side to her nature I’d never encountered anyone like that before-yes you’re correct in that respect. When we set off I realised I found myself completely comfortable with her as if this was my sister-yes like Phillipa, although we had barely met. Such especially with someone of the opposite gender must surely be rare. It wasn’t as if we were in the same class even.”

  Gabriel put another coal on the fire then. This was the one who always made sure the coal was at the appropriate level. In winter, Selassie made sure that this was done especially. It entailed turning the damper on the flue so that the fire only received a little air from the chimney, allowing the fire to still burn, but just barely. That way, you didn't have to completely restart the furnace each day ~ you just opened the flue then put more coal on the embers. The flames burned voraciously through all the available coal-it would leave another pile of dead ashes to welcome Gabriel upon return from his next excursion. The relating of this meeting with Furuta continued.

  “When we must have been going for not a little while I was struck how that eventually we must leave one another, not just myself plus her, but all those we meet in this life. In that stillness, the vastness of the energy touched us as we trusted one another with confidences/ secrets. There was no need for us to make the reverse journey-my parents would provide for that-apart from meeting in corridors that would be it.We broke down then-the manifold or something like that-the bonnet up anyway-tons of smoke-neither of us knew what was wrong- so we had to book into a motel-whether deliberately or not I don’t know. I did my Dustin Hoffman impersonation from the Graduate phase of his career-but that is as far as we went-nothing untoward happened.”