The Universe is a Very Big Place

by APRIL ASHEIM

  "Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you baldie?" Lanie hissed. "Misery loves company."

  Sam was about to say something cutting. Spring could tell by the way the ends of his lips twisted up in disdain. But before he could speak there was a knock on the door. The three looked at one another, and Spring went to answer it, expecting to be greeted either by a salesman or a Jehovah’s Witness. But the man at the door was neither seller nor preacher. In fact, he was a pleasant looking man with wheat-colored hair, pale blue eyes, and faded old jeans.

  "John. What are you doing here?"

  Eighteen

  John Smith had not intended to stalk the woman.

  Though she seemed to haunt his thoughts every hour of every day, he was not the kind that followed women home, however attractive they might be. But when she came into the pub Friday night, immediately after seeing him at the store, his first guess was that she was stalking him. Or at the very least paying off her debt. Of course, the very next thing she did was to advance towards the pretty boy at the counter and his hopes disappeared as quickly as a drop of water on a hot frying pan.

  "It figures," he said to himself. No girl as pretty and as interesting as Spring would be chasing after him. It was just like home.

  He drank his beer slowly, watching the scene. They moved from the bar to a corner table. She looking worried and talking excitedly. He looking horny and amused. She talked quickly and the pretty boy watched her, cracking a smile now and then and copping feels when he had the chance. And then she left. He wondered where she had gone and why pretty boy was not going with her. But pretty boy seemed to forget Spring the second she was out the door.

  This disturbed John. How could anyone forget a woman like that? She was unlike any of the women he had grown up with in Samson, Indiana. And as far as John could tell, unlike any woman out here in the hot lands as well. As John got up to take a leak he noticed something under the table where Spring had been sitting. Something shiny. He left a few bills on the table for his tab and walked towards it, looking over to make sure pretty boy was not watching. He wasn’t.

  There on the floor where her feet had dangled lay a small diamond earring. He could have returned it to her at work. He still had the name of her organization, courtesy of a rubber thrown at him by a twitchy girl. But he wanted to see her alone, and soon, and with a little help from the internet he found her address and worked up the courage to go to her house.

  "John," she said, surprised, looking behind her to see if anyone had followed. "I promised I’d call you. Couldn’t you give me a few days at least?" She tried to shut the door but he wedged his foot in quickly.

  "I’m sorry," he said, wishing he hadn’t alarmed her. "I found this at the bar on Friday and I knew it belonged to you."

  Spring took the stud and held it in her hand, looking at it like she had never seen it before. Recognition registered in her eyes and she grinned at him. A large, Disney Princess grin.

  "You are returning this to me."

  Behind her, two figures moved. A large woman with clown-red hair and a stick man without any hair at all. Both stood on tiptoes, craning their necks to see who was at the door. The large woman barreled forward, shoving Spring out of her way. When her eyes took him in she smacked her lips like she were about to have dinner and smiled.

  "Who’s this?" the woman asked, rubbing her hands.

  Spring looked up at the woman, who stood a good foot taller, and stammered. "He, he is a guy I know from the grocery store. John Smith."

  The woman extended a fleshy hand towards John, and instead of shaking it, yanked him indoors. "I’m Spring‘s mama, Lanie. Glad to meet you. We could use an attractive man around here." John caught the cutting look Spring gave her mother when she invited him inside.

  It was an open space. The dining room, kitchen, and living room were delineated only by a small bar and floor coverings. And it was bright. Every bulb in the place was lit. John squinted as his eyes fought for adjustment. The thin man advanced and John offered his hand.

  "You must be Spring’s father then."

  The man turned a shade of red John had never seen before and John knew that he had been mistaken.

  "No. I’m not Spring’s father. I’m Spring’s fiancé, Sam Wayne."

  Lanie snorted as she retreated. "As if I couldn’t do better than this jackass."

  For a minute John could think of nothing to say. He had been sure the pretty boy was her boyfriend. He forced himself to say the words. "Nice to meet you, Sam."

  Sam appraised John in the same manner Pete appraised his competition at the bars. After a moment Sam smiled and shook his head. For once John was thankful for his nondescript looks. Sam didn’t view him as any threat at all.

  "Why don’t you have a seat, John?" Spring motioned towards a chair next to her at the dining room table. Sam did not look pleased as John settled in beside her.

  "So, sweetie. Where did you say you know John from?" Sam skillfully delivered three glasses of soda to the table, followed by three neon bendy straws, and sat himself on the other side of Spring. Spring dipped a straw into her drink and took a long sip before answering.

  "The grocery store. We both shop at the Food Fortress."

  Sam lounged lazily in his chair, propping his head in his clasped hands. "No little woman around to shop for you, eh? Now that’s too bad. Every home needs a woman. It’s in the Bible and the Koran. Of course, sometimes more than one woman in those days." Sam laughed. "Oh, but who would want all that trouble? One female in the house is more than I can handle." Sam gave Lanie a disdainful sideways look that she didn’t seem to notice.

  John nodded and said nothing. The soda was flat but he drank it anyway. The three sat in such complete silence that John could hear the tick tock of the grandfather clock which looked strangely out of place in this fluorescent cave.

  "He found my earring," Spring finally spoke, smiling sweetly at Sam. "At the store. Wasn’t that nice?" She looked at John, her eyes begging him to confirm the story. He nodded in agreement.

  "Sweetie. Why would you wear your diamond studs to the grocery store? You know those are for special occasions only." He leaned over and patted her head. Spring looked down at her hands on the table but did not answer. "Not a big deal," Sam picked up again. "Just remember. Diamonds are forever, but only if you don’t lose them."

  "Got it," she said and laughed a nervous laugh. "It’s my first pair of diamonds. Sam bought them for me on a business trip to Mexico. I’m still learning to take care of them."

  Sam elbowed John. "Good deals down in Mexico if you know who to talk to. Don’t suppose you’ve ever been south of the border?"

  John shook his head that he had not, and Sam continued.

  "Well, let me know if you ever plan to go. I can tell you where to get the best prices. The trick is to haggle. If you don’t haggle you’re gonna get screwed. It’s public knowledge. And don’t let those little kids with the big weepy eyes selling chicklets fool you. They rake in the dough. A few American dollars will buy them a month’s rent in one of their huts."

  Spring’s face reddened and John changed the subject. "So how did you two meet?"

  "Us?" Sam sat up and puffed his chest out. "I saw her wandering around a book store. She had just been dumped and was looking for a book on healing. Poor thing, couldn’t find the non-fiction section, let alone the self-help books. There’s irony there." Sam looked at Spring and gave her a soft pat on the knee. "I guided her to my personal favorites. The rest is history."

  Lanie snorted but Sam ignored her.

  "...How about you two? Tell me about your cute meet."

  "Our cute what?" Spring asked, knitting her eyebrows together.

  "The cute way you two met in the grocery store. It happens in all the best movies and stories." Sam leaned forward, meeting John’s eyes. John felt immediately uncomfortable.

  "It wasn’t that cute. We just happened to be in the same checkout line. She dropped an earring and a business card. And I t
racked her down. Not much of a story."

  Sam scrunched his lips together, analyzing the story. "Well, I can see Spring dropping things. It’s not that cute, you’re right." He leaned over and squeezed her. "Maybe I should accompany you shopping more, my dear. Just to make sure you don’t lose anything else." Sam walked into an adjoining room and returned with a book. The Art of War. He sat it on the table and opened it up to a random page, reading to himself. When he caught John staring at him he closed the book. "Sorry to be a bad host," said Sam. "But I’ve been itching to read this book all week." He tapped his fingers on the table as he studied John.

  "It’s a good book," said John, and Sam looked incredulous.

  "No offense, but you don’t seem like the reading type. I’m a knowledge fiend. Knowledge is the only thing that matters. It’s all I live for."

  "I’m an artist myself," said John. He searched his pockets until he found the business cards he had recently purchased from Kinkos announcing that he was starting his own business. He offered one to Sam. "I used to read more, when I was a kid. Now, I just can’t find the time. Reading takes away from real life."

  Sam furrowed his brow, creating a deep V in his forehead. "An artist huh? I don’t suppose you live in a van?"

  Lanie returned from the living room cradling something that looked like a rat. John steeled himself against the rodent, not wanting to give Sam any further ammunition.

  "John. Have you ever thought about owning a pig?" Lanie asked as casually as if she were commenting on the weather. She slid into the chair next to him and tossed the creature onto the floor. John was relieved to see that it was nothing more than a windup toy. She then produced a brochure which took up most of the table.

  "Mother!" Spring said. "Don’t do that to the guests."

  "It’s okay," John said, patting Spring’s hand. He could feel Sam’s eyes burn into his skull. "No. I’ve never thought of owning a pig. Should I?"

  "She likes pigs," Spring explained. John felt the warmth of her breath on his neck and it sent shivers down his spine. She could like flying monkeys for all he cared, so long as Spring would continue to sit near him. "She is trying to convince us to buy one as a pet, and then when Armageddon comes we can eat him."

  "That’s horrible" he whispered as Lanie pointed out the pros and cons of each variety of pig.

  "Don't worry, it will never happen. We can't afford Lanie, let alone a pig."

  "I heard that," said Lanie, wadding up the brochure when she realized that no one was paying attention. "You just wait till the end days, then you will wish you would have listened to me!"

  "You have an accent," Sam said, breaking into the conversation. "Where are you from?"

  John chewed on the bottom of his lip. Small talk was not his forte. Back home everyone knew everything about him and he wasn’t used to explaining himself. "Samson, Indiana. I came out here for work."

  "A Midwesterner!" Sam seemed genuinely delighted. "Aurora, Illinois," he said, tapping his chest in a 'Me, Tarzan' sort of way. "But I’ve been to Samson. Shithole of the world. Bet you’re glad to be out of there."

  "Sam!" Spring's jaw dropped in disbelief.

  "No, he’s right," John said, before a fight erupted. "Not much going on in Samson. But my job didn’t end up working out, so I might end up going back."

  Sam nodded and smiled.

  "It is still rude," Spring said, and went back to her drink. She dipped her straw into her soda and blew bubbles the way John had done as a child with his chocolate milk. Without saying a word Sam reached over and took the straw from her and set it out of her reach. Spring extended her bottom lip but said nothing.

  "Here, take this one." John handed his bendy straw to Spring and she smiled widely in return. The look Sam shot him let John know that he had crossed the line.

  "It's getting late," said Sam. "Spring needs to get up early."

  John looked at the clock behind him. It was almost eight.

  "Yes," said Spring, rising from her chair. "I have to do my homework and go to bed or I won’t get to go to prom."

  John forced a laugh, but he was glad to be told to go. Why had he thought coming here would be a good idea?

  Sam draped his arm protectively around Spring’s shoulders. "I’m sure a bachelor like you has better things to do than to hang out with us old folks, anyway."

  "Old? You can’t be a day older than twenty-six," said John.

  "Twenty-six?" Sam straightened. "Some people say I look young for my age, but I assure you I haven’t seen twenty-six in quite a while."

  John grinned, nodding to Spring. "I meant her."

  Sam gave Spring a playful squeeze. "Spring will be thirty in a few months. All downhill from there. Right, babe?" Spring cringed and sunk in his grasp.

  "Thirty? Wow. Well, you look great,” he said.

  Spring looked as if she wanted to run.

  "...I mean really, really great."

  "Especially after she popped out them twins." Sam patted her belly. "She still has a little work to do but she’ll get there. I’m working on a fitness plan for her."

  John felt his fists tighten and he did his very best not to punch the stickman. He felt he better go before he did something stupid.

  "Well. Nice meeting you, Lanie and Sam. And good to see you again, Spring. I uh, well, goodnight." John turned towards the door and let himself out.

  He drove home, listening to the country music station. Spring was thirty-years-old, had twins, and was engaged. He scratched his head curiously.

  "I’m a long way from Indiana," he said.

  But no one answered.

  "He’s cute," said Lanie that evening, when she and Spring were alone on the back patio. Sam had gone to bed early with one of his migraines.

  "He’s just a guy I owe money to."

  "Aren’t they usually supposed to pay you?" Lanie laughed at her joke and stopped when she realized Spring didn’t find it funny.

  "Mother. Please. Besides, I have a man. Two. Maybe."

  "So that means you talked to Trevor?"

  "Yes. We talked some at the Pub Friday. That’s where I lost the earring." Spring looked down at her hands to avoid Lanie’s questioning eyes.

  "What did he say? Does he want you back? Does he have a guest room?"

  Spring laughed. "Always thinking of me, aren’t you, Mom?"

  Lanie huffed. "What’s wrong with me wanting a cut of the action? After all, I gave you life. And excitement."

  "Yeah," Spring said. She looked out at the stars visible even with the glare of the city lights. It was one of the reasons she loved Arizona. When she was a kid and every town looked like the next at night, she remembered passing through Arizona with its millions of stars. "Years of living as a carnie would certainly seem exciting."

  "They were!" Lanie defended herself. "How many other girls do you know that got tutored by a bearded woman?"

  Spring had to laugh. "Well, Mom, you got me there. I can safely say that I don’t know anyone else who had the fortune of that experience."

  Lanie took a long puff on her cigarette and Spring watched the orange ember trace a trail through the dark. It was a wonder the woman wasn’t carting an oxygen tank around by now.

  "Mom. Was I that bad of a kid?"

  Lanie did a double take. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "Dad leaving. He made me a promise he would always be there for me. But he wasn’t. I used to think that if I had been a better kid he would have stayed."

  Lanie froze, her large pale form a mountainous silhouette in the night. She took a deep breath and exhaled, pausing to think. "No, Spring, you weren’t a bad kid. I’m sorry you think that."

  "Then why, Mom? Why did he leave?"

  Lanie dropped the cigarette, still only half-smoked, and stamped it out with her foot. She hoped Sam wouldn’t wash it away with the hose in the morning. "It wasn’t you. Hell, it wasn’t me. Some men aren’t fit to be tied down to one place. Or one person." Lanie looked at Spring and squ
eezed her hand. "I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could tell you more. Fortune tellers don’t really have all the answers, you know? But I do know it was never you. You were his girl."

  Lanie leaned over in the chair, her face in her hands, and for the first time in Spring’s life she heard her mother cry.

  "Don’t cry, Mom. It’s going to be okay."

  Sam lay in bed, head tucked under the covers. He didn’t really have a headache. He just needed time to think.

  So this was the reason Spring was acting so peculiar and unmanageable lately. This young punk kid who didn’t know the first thing about life was here to take away all that he had worked for. Sam rubbed his temple as the image of John Smith appeared in his mind’s eye. Something had to be done.

  Not for the first time, he thought of packing it up and moving on. Maybe she wasn’t worth all the trouble. But it was too close to the deadline. His grandmother’s health was failing and he couldn’t take any chances. If he played his cards right, he would inherit a library...an entire fucking library filled with more books than one dared to dream about, collected by his grandfather from all over the world. Endless knowledge that in the wrong hands could be squandered, or worse, lost. It was a modern day Alexandria and he wasn’t going to let this kid ruin things. He would marry Spring soon and take her to see Grandma Rosary. She would grant her blessing and Spring would ask, on their behalf, for their inheritance.

  In theory it wasn’t that fricken' hard. But it sure was becoming that way.

  He had to act and he had to act now. An idea popped into his brain and he quickly got out of bed before he could talk himself out of it.

  Nineteen

  1986

  Ernest sat on the queen-sized bed, its mattress old and tired, sagging beneath his slight weight. Lanie hadn’t been particularly pleased about this motel, but it was better than sleeping in the trailer again. Times were hard. People weren’t coming to carnivals like they used to. Theme parks were all the rage and the news declared them ‘safer.’ This made Lanie indignant. In all her days on the road she had only seen two accidents. Granted, one of them had taken a man’s legs, but that was still a pretty good track record.