What's eating Gilbert Grape?

by Hedges, Peter

"She was falling through the floor. We didn't know what else to do."

  "But this is where . . . this is where ..."

  "1 know."

  Larry kicks the beams, hitting the higher boards with his fists. "1 hate this house. I hate it."

  "You have every right to," I say.

  "I'm going. Okay? I'm getting in my car and going. I can't stay here. I can't be here."

  "I know how you feel . . . but ..."

  Larry has crouched in the corner, like a baby in a womb. "But what?"

  "You can't leave just yet. You just can't."

  "But . . ."He wraps his arms around his knees tighter.

  "It's not a good time to be leaving. Hey, come on. Amy wants us upstairs. All of us. Come on, Larry."

  He sits, not budging an inch.

  "Come on, buddy." I pull him up. We duck under and around the support beams and walk slowly upstairs.

  Amy goes, "You think we could all just sit in here for a while? Just sit together?"

  No one objects. Arnie sits at Momma's feet. Amy is at her side. I stand behind Larry in the doorway, blocking him in case he tries to get out. Ellen and Janice stand by the window, smoking. Ellen holds a cigarette of her own.

  Amy has brought in a cassette player and she turns on first a tape of Frank Sinatra. Momma loved Frank. When that ends, she puts on Elvis. And while one of us is crying, another stares out

  PETER HEDGES

  the window and somebody else pipes up with some story about Momma.

  Janice says that Momma was once the prettiest girl in Endora, and that Ellen looks just like how Momma did as a girl. Larry mentions how Momma was always happiest when she was pregnant. And Amy says she always knew that this was going to happen—Momma dying—but that in no way did she think it would happen now. "I'm glad we're all here," she says. Ellen says that she still can't believe that she's Momma's spitting image, so Amy and Janice get the trunk out. We look at pictures of Momma as a little girl and as a young woman. One is of Momma at about age five, holding a teddy bear. Her face looks so sad and forlorn. And she's wearing a winter hat and mittens,

  I'm not saying we all of a sudden decided that our mother was Saint Mary. But even though she was angry, even though she was soooo fat, she was our mother. And we could see in each of us a trace of her. And we knew in some weird way that she wasn't gone, she had just moved into us and now it was time for us to move on.

  One of the Elvis songs gets Amy dancing. And Larry, too. Arnie jiggles around with Janice. Ellen is taking pictures with her Kodak, but the flash has stopped working so I don't know if the pictures will come out. I sit on the bed and look at Momma lying there, still. Everybody is moving around her, spinning and laughing. Momma is still and Elvis sings.

  I look at Momma and say under my breath, "It's going to take a crane to get you out. You know that? They're going to have to cut a hole in the ceiling. A helicopter, maybe ..."

  Amy sticks her sweaty face in front of mine and says, "Gilbert, who you talking to?"

  "Nobody," 1 say.

  "Then dance," she says. "Dance."

  And I do.

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  59

  We're all danced out and Larry has brought up the beer and some of us have opened up cans.

  Amy says, "I haven't danced this way in years."

  Janice says. "I know some great places in Des Moines where ..."

  Ellen says, "You're a good dancer, Amy."

  Larry belches. Arnie puts his hand up to Larry's mouth and says, "Stop that, stop it!"

  We sit in our sweat.

  Amy says, "Okay. It's time."

  "For what?" 1 say, feeling this rush of blood around my face.

  "Time to call. The sun will be up in a few hours. We want to do this before the sun, right?"

  "Uhm."

  "Yes," Janice says.

  1 go, "It's gonna take a crane to get her out, you know that. Have you thought about that?"

  "No, it won't."

  "They'll have to cut a hole in the roof. She's too big to carry down. It'll take a crane of some kind."

  Larry says that there are hydraulic stretchers for people like Momma. He tells Janice to call. Janice stands and walks over to the phone.

  "No!' I shout. "Don't!"

  "You need more time, Gilbert, is that it?" Amy says.

  "Uhm."

  "We can wait a little longer."

  Janice sighs. "Let's do it. Let's just Ccill, okay?" She picks up the phone.

  "Noooooo!"

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  Arnie covers his ears and the others stop moving and look at me.

  "Don't call. Do not call. By the time they get her out, it'll be morning. And there'll be a crowd. And the McBurney hearse will show up. They'll put her in the hearse, Ellen. And the people will talk and talk. Whisper. They'll look at her and feel superior. And they will joke. They will make her a joke."

  Ellen has turned away. Janice starts to dial.

  "SHE IS NO JOKE! THEY'LL LAUGH AT HER AND POKE AT HER AND JUDGE HER! DO NOT LET THEM DO THAT!"

  "Okay, Gilbert, shhhh. Shhhhh."

  "SHE DESERVES BETTER! SHE DESERVES ..." 1 try to breathe. Amy tries to hug me, but I flinch. "MOMMA IS BEAUTIFUL AND NOBODY IS GOING TO LAUGH! ... NO LAUGH! . . ."

  There is no dialing sound, no words of protest—only the sound of me sobbing.

  Ellen says, "She's beautiful. No matter what anybody says or thinks, Momma is beautiful."

  "So can 1 dial now?" Janice asks.

  I shake my head.

  "Well, then, little brother, what do you suggest we do?"

  I lunge through the air, ripping the phone away from her, cradling it like a football.

  "Well," Janice says.

  1 unplug it and carry it to my room. 1 pull out two dresser drawers stuffed with clothes, set the phone in the top drawer, and walk back down the hall.

  "What are you doing?" Janice asks. The others are watching.

  1 go down the stairs and set the drawers in our front yard. 1 find a box. In the upstairs hall, I empty Amy's Nancy Drew collection into the box.

  Janice asks, "What is Gilbert doing? Is anyone else interested?"

  1 walk past her and go down and out. I find some garbage bags in the kitchen. I'm at the top of the stairs when I hear Amy ask, "What time is it?"

  Larry says, "Two-fifteen."

  Without saying a word. Amy walks past me to her room. She

  What's Eating Gilbert Grape

  eventually emerges with a box of Elvis records, Elvis posters, and a stuffed bear that Larry won once for her at the carnival years back. She has grabbed some clothes, too. She stops at the end of the hall, pokes her head in Momma's room, and says to the others, who are standing around, confused, "Gilbert's right. It's gonna take a crane to get her out."

  Janice goes, "What the . . . ?"

  Amy says, "Gilbert's also right—they will laugh and judge. And, yes. Momma deserves better." She takes her stuff down the stairs and out onto the front lawn.

  I carry down books. 1 empty the coats from the coat closet and carry them out beyond the sidewalk. It's only Amy and me doing this though. Then Ellen appears on the porch. She holds a few of our photo albums. "Where should 1 put these?" she asks.

  Soon the others are carrying, too. Janice helps Arnie gather up his toys. Ellen gets her makeup, Larry gets the dart board from the attic and the set of encyclopedias and the tools from the garage. We gather papers and pictures and dishes from the kitchen.

  No one is saying anything, but it is clear that we all understand.

  Amy picks selected furniture and it's carried out and set in the yard. The dining-room table, the family-room sofa. No one is running, no one frantic—but we work quickly. 1 make sure to get Becky's watermelon seeds and Mrs. Carver's Coke can.

  It takes many trips for the yard to be filled with our things. Amy and 1 look at it all from the porch. Bags of clothes and furniture and old dishes everywhere. The yard is littered with our b
elongings.

  "Amy," I say.

  "Yeah?"

  "Did you know we had this much stuff? "

  "Nope. We sure got a lot. " She looks at her watch. "It's a little after five." I hand her the last sofa cushion. "Is that everything?" she asks.

  "Yep."

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  60

  Jit took us three or so hours to empty all we want. Janice is collapsed in the grass and Ellen looks at the sweat on her arms in the light from the street lamp. Larry goes to his car and calls out, "Be right back."

  The girls, Arnie, and me all go upstairs and give Momma a hug or a kiss. Ellen tries to take one last picture, but she runs out of film. We all walk around the house with blank faces, sometimes smiling, an occasional giggle or sob—but mainly we walk around with blank faces just soaking it all in. Arnie sits in his room saying, "Bye-bye." He waves to the doors and closet shelves.

  When I see the headlights from a car, I go, "Larry's back." We all go downstairs and out into the yard. Larry runs in the house and up the stairs and you can see him, through the window, looking at Momma. He leans forward to kiss her—his head dips out of my view.

  Back outside, he opens the trunk of his car and takes out the gas can he just had filled. 1 walk with him to the porch, he opens the door, and we walk into the living room. The only furniture left in that room is Momma's chair. He pours the gasoline all over it. I turn off all the lights. He lights a match and we hear the sound of fire being born. He gets out of the house fast. 1 take my time.

  Outside, the girls have turned the sofa around so it faces the house. Sitting on it are Arnie and Amy. Ellen stands behind them. Janice is sitting on one of our kitchen chairs. Larry runs to the others. From the porch, where I'm standing, I can hear Amy whispering to Arnie, trying to explain why we're doing this and although it makes perfect sense, even Arnie can't understand.

  With my back to the house, I watch my brothers and sisters watch the fire grow. The light brightens their faces. I feel the heat on my neck. The downstairs must be in flames.

  What's Eating Gilbert Grape

  "Gilbert, get over here." I turn and look at the fire. "Gilbert!"

  I go and join the others who are watching. The fire grows and grows. It moves quick and it seems to go right to Momma's room. Arnie says, "Scary, scary."

  It won't be long before the sun is up and the police and newspaper people arrive. I look around to see if any of the neighbors' lights have snapped on, and a couple have, but no one is outside yet.

  The fire is beautiful.

  1 remember my date with Becky to watch the sunrise. It will have to wait until another day.

  As the fire shoots higher and higher, 1 look around at my family. 1 see that Larry's eyes are full and about to drip, and that Janice is staring like she's seen her first rainbow, and Ellen's got her eyes closed—she's listening to the fire. Amy and Arnie sit together on the sofa and he's asking questions. The police lights come flashing through the trees. 1 take my hands out of my pockets. I put one on Larry's shoulder and the other squeezes Ellen's arm.

  Arnie says to Amy, "Look at the lights—look at the lights."

  The sirens fill the air, the walls in Momma's room fall down in flames, and Amy says, "Yes, Arnie, look at the lights."