“Rats with wings, Perry! Rats with wings. You shouldn’t feed them.” I didn’t hear Marty come up behind me and I jump.
“I know,” I say. I always feel guilty, but feed the birds anyway.
“You can tell Keith his engine is fixed. You want to take him my bill?” Marty staggers like he is drunk only he is not. He has a bad hip.
“I get the bill. It goes to me,” I tell him.
“Okay. Well, I replaced all the filters. I scrubbed the tank and practically had to rebuild the whole thing. The guts were all screwed up.” Marty always calls the inside of an engine the guts. He hands me a paper with Keith’s name at the top and a list of all the parts he used for Keith’s engine.
I pull my checkbook out of my back pocket and write Marty a check for one thousand one hundred three dollars and seventy-three cents for parts and labor. He has to help me with the zeros.
“Parts and labor.” I laugh. “That is funny. I mean, can you just have parts or just have labor? Would someone buy only parts?” I ask him. Marty does not answer and just shakes his head. I walk back to the store and give Keith the copy of Marty’s bill. It is marked paid in Marty’s cramped handwriting.
“Shit! You didn’t need to spend all that money! He ripped you off!” Keith blows up, but he is still in one piece. He checks everything on the invoice. “I probably needed the filters, but holy fuck! He charged us extra for our own gaskets. Look!” Keith is always happiest when he can yell and complain about something. He looks almost cheerful and gives me a slap on the back. That is his way of saying thank you. He raps me on the back again two more times, burps, and looks satisfied.
“Keith, let’s sail to Kingston or up to Anacortes or somewhere.” I want to go on a sailing trip. It will be like being with Gramp again.
“It’s pretty cold now, but yeah, when the weather clears we’ll go up to Whidbey and anchor out.” Keith starts looking at rope for new lines on his boat. His are chafed. That means they could break at any time. I laugh to imagine Keith’s face one morning if he woke up and found himself and Diamond Girl floating free in the middle of the Sound.
I was so excited about fixing Diamond Girl that I made him take Yo up to Ron’s gas station at the corner to repair the heater and get a tune-up. It was one of the things on Gram’s lottery list. She always told me that it was important to show people that you appreciate them. Keith always took us places in Yo. It was only fair.
“It’s the first time Yo has been worked on since I bought him.” Keith sounds amazed. Like he won a prize. Yo is a him and Diamond Girl is a her.
“Are all cars hes and boats shes?” I ask Keith.
“Pretty much.”
“No, I don’t think so. Some cars are shes. Gary’s Jeep Cherokee is a she,” I say.
“Manuel’s Dodge is a he,” Keith says back.
I cannot think of any he boats.
“What about Marty’s car? What’s that?” Marty’s car has not been out of the parking lot in two years.
“That’s an it. When cars don’t run they’re its. Like it’s a lemon or it won’t run.” Keith is very smart.
When I show Keith the final bill from Ron’s, he gets all upset again. He jumps up and down then rips the invoice up into tiny pieces. They scatter all over the floor.
“You going to sweep those up?” Gary looks disapproving. I run to get the broom and dustpan.
“Shit! Five hundred dollars for a fucking tune-up!” Keith’s face is purple.
“Watch your language, Keith,” Gary says for about the hundred millionth time. He wants us to be polite around customers. We can be as rude as we like around each other.
“It’s okay, Keith, I took care of it. It’s a fair thing. Gram would want me to,” I say while I sweep the pieces up and put them in the trash.
“I’m doing this for Gram! It was something she always wanted to do for you,” I say. “It was on her lottery list.”
Keith would take her to the doctor whenever she needed to go. We could ask him to take us to Costco for TP and paper towels. Those things are very hard to carry on the bus because they are so big. We both always appreciated the rides even though Gram would complain about Yo’s heater. We offered money for gas, but Keith would never take it.
“If we won the lottery, I’d fix that goddamn heater!” Gram would promise him. In Everett, you always need a heater. It is cold even in the summer, especially early in the morning or when it rains, which is most of the time. Gram would be happy that Yo’s heater is fixed. I start to wonder how it was before. Before I had the lottery money. I almost forget.
Marleen Rafters, the reporter, calls Keith back and schedules an interview for the following week. Keith starts combing his hair and tucking in his shirt. He even shaves every day, which is both strange and a miracle. That is what Gary says.
“It’s a miracle! You’re starting to look presentable. I may even make you manager.” Gary looks pleased, like he is responsible for Keith’s new appearance. I do not tell him it is because of Marleen the reporter. That would be tattling and it is not nice to tattle.
“You got to hear her voice, Per! It’s deep and sexy. We got along great. Right from the get-go. She asked a lot of questions. How long I’d known you. How long we’ve been buddies. She said it must be something to have your friend be a millionaire.” Keith keeps Marleen ’s number in his wallet. He pulls it out every so often like he wants to call.
But he does not.
30
We end up rescheduling Marleen Rafter’s appointment.
"I want to ride on an airplane and I want to see the candy factory where they make Hershey’s Kisses,” I tell Gary. This is another thing from our lottery-list game.
He types it into his computer.
“Here you go! Hershey’s Theme Park. You can even go on a ride that shows you how chocolate is made. They have replicas of all the machinery.”
“What do you mean replica? Where’s the factory?”
“Replica. Uh. It means just like real. It isn’t the factory, actually.”
“But I want to see the real factory. I want a real tour.” When people say “actually,” it means they are telling you something you do not want to hear.
“I have bad news for you, Perry,” Gary says. “They don’t do real tours anymore. All they have is a theme park. There’s no tour of the actual candy factory. There’s a movie and a diorama tour ride, but no real factory there.”
Theme parks are when you think you are doing something real and it ends up being pretend.
“I don’t want a pretend factory. That’s a gyp!”
Keith tries to make me feel better and orders a Meat Eaters Special from Pizza Bob’s.
“I know you’re disappointed, Per, but those things always turn out not as good as you think.”
People always say this when you cannot do what you want to do. I really want to ride on an airplane, I think, and I look outside. It is frosty and there is ice on my window. It sparkles in the dark and looks like sugar. Winter is very cold in Everett.
“It’s as cold as a witch’s titty!” Keith says.
“Hey! Why would a witch have a cold titty? They wear all those black robes, so they have to be pretty warm under there,” I say.
“It’s all that broom riding they do,” Keith says.
That makes me think about Gram. She was always cold and did good witch laughs.
“Hey, let’s go to Hawaii!” I say. “Let’s take Gram to Hawaii.”
“What?” Keith sits up straight.
“It was on Gram’s lottery list. Gram wanted to go somewhere warm.”
Keith looks dizzy and says, “Gram is dead, Per.”
“I know that, but you should be able to do the things you want even if you’re dead.”
Keith hands me a slice of pizza.
“Remember the movie, Keith? The one where those guys drag around their dead friend and take him to parties and stuff ? That’s my favorite movie. It’s like that. Even though she is de
ad, I think Gram would still like to go to Hawaii. The three of us could go together, ” I say.
“You mean like spread her ashes?” Keith smiles when he says this. Meat Eaters has peppers and tomatoes, so he has red and green between his teeth.
“You spread mayonnaise and you spread peanut butter. It does not make sense to spread ashes,” I tell him.
“You sprinkle them,” he says.
“Like sugar on cereal? Like my oatmeal?”
“No! You throw them in the air off a mountain or toss them into the ocean. When I die, I want my ashes spread out into the Sound. Right off Diamond Girl, if she’s still afloat,” Keith says.
“Just dump them in the water?”
“Yeah! Then the water will just take me away. I’d go all over the world and it wouldn’t cost me a dime!” Going around the world for free seems to impress Keith.
“I don’t think Gram would want to be floating around in the water even in Hawaii. I never ever saw her in a bathing suit.”
“So Waikiki, huh? Let’s check it out.” He grabs the phone book and phone. “Gram sure would get a hoot out of this!” Keith says.
A hoot is a thing that is much funnier after you’re dead.
We fly first-class.
I did not know there were classes of plane seats. It is very cool. There is coach and there is first-class. First-class is when you pay a lot of money to cut in line. People mutter and stare when we go ahead of them. Nobody believes we are first-class. The seats are bigger, which is a good thing for Keith. We also get real silverware and free drinks.
Keith told me that the people in coach get no silverware and have to pay for food. In first-class, the food costs nothing. The stewardess lady checks our tickets so often that Keith asks her if she has a problem with us.
“Is there a problem?” Keith looks like he is going to get mad, but then he smiles kind of nasty and says, “I don’t think you’ve met my friend Perry L. Crandall.” He introduces me.
“You might have seen him in the newspaper when he WON THE WASHINGTON STATE LOTTERY?” He says this very loud and looks around.
Boy, people were interested. The nice man sitting across talks to us both and gives me his card. He sells insurance. The stewardess stops checking our tickets and instead gives us packages of mixed nuts and cookies, as many as we want. They act like they like me.
Then I remember.
These people like me because I won the lottery.
The stewardess hands me a tiny plastic pin.
“Look! Airplane wings, Keith!” I think they are totally cool.
“Do you want a pair?” the stewardess asks Keith, then hands him a package too.
“Do you think she thinks I’m retarded?” I whisper in Keith’s ear. “Are these just for kids?”
“Nah, Per. She gave me a pair too. She doesn’t think that.”
That would have spoiled the whole trip for me, but it is okay. Keith says.
Going pee in the air was the best part.
“Keith, this is the highest I ever peed!” I say when I come back from the lavatory. Then I remember. “Is Mount Rainier higher? I peed there, too, in one of those little blue toilet houses. I went there on a field trip in Miss Elk’s class.”
Keith knows all about Miss Elk.
“I don’t think that counts,” Keith tells me.
“Why not?”
“One, because the one at Mount Rainier is still on the ground and two those portable ones don’t flush. This plane has a flushing toilet.”
“Where does it go, Keith?”
“What do you mean?” Keith is on his third umbrella drink.
“Where does all that poop and pee go?”
“I guess it just falls out of the plane. You know what they say. Shit happens.”
I decide that I like flying so much I would do it even if I did not go anywhere. Like if I just went up and came down or even if maybe there was a restaurant on an airplane. That would be cool.
When we land in Hawaii, my ears pop like going down a big hill. I notice two things right away. One is that it is very hot when we get off the plane. The other thing is that all the signs have words with lots of aaas, eees, iiis, and ooos. Those are vowels. I am so excited I laugh. “Ha!”
“What’s the matter?” Keith is sweating like a pig. Of course, I never saw a real pig except at the petting zoo at Woodland Park. If one did sweat, it would look like Keith. All pink and dripping.
“I am really happy, Keith.”
“That’s why I like you, Per. That’s why I like you. That and you have money now.” And he laughs back at me.
There are crowds of people around when we pick up our suitcases. Some guys have flowers in a ring around their necks. They smell good.
“Where did they get those from?” I ask.
“They’re lays. So hookers know who to go to for money.” Then he laughs and farts at the same time. “First-class, Per, we’re going first-class all the way.”
Riding in the cab is exciting. The drivers open the car door even though they know we probably can. When I was on the plane I wondered what Hawaii would be like, but it is just like Everett except that it has palm trees, is warmer, and everybody says, “Aloha.” Nobody says Aloha in Everett. Our hotel is right on the beach. I can hear the ocean roar, like a machine.
“Hey, Keith, doesn’t it sound like a washer?” I can feel myself start to bounce, I am so happy. “Hey! I have an idea! Let’s buy swimsuits!”
“Shorts, Per, we just need shorts,” but he follows me into a gift shop anyway. There is one in the lobby of our hotel. A lobby is a place where they keep anything you might need to buy like coconut bras, hula girl lamps, or towels with dolphins.
I absolutely do not understand the lady in the store and it really shakes me up.
“I thought you said we were in America?” I have to put my hand over my mouth when I whisper this to Keith so I do not hurt her feelings. I totally do not understand the language. It is probably Hawaiian, with all those extra vowels.
“We are in America, Per. It’s called an accent,” Keith whispers back.
Accents are when people speak and they don’t sound like you.
The ocean in Hawaii is wonderful. I never saw anything like it. So blue and warm like a bath. I stand waist-deep in the water.
“Hey, you can float on your back!” I point at Keith. His stomach is like a giant ball.
“Go ahead! You can too!” he says.
“I can’t swim. I don’t want to drown.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Why would I kid about drowning?” I ask him.
Keith is my friend and tries to teach me to dog-paddle. I sink, flip over, and then float on my back. “Hey, look at me! I can float! I can’t even swim. This is so cool! Hawaii sure is great!”
“You will be swimming for real before we go home. I swear!” Keith says.
People say I swear when they are not sure that they can do something, but they want to convince you they will.
We stay in the water until dinnertime. I float on my stomach, hold my breath, and open my eyes under water. I even see fish! I am so excited that I start to tell Keith and drown, but I do not die. I just get water up my nose.
“Per, calm down! Just because you get water up your nose doesn’t mean you’re drowning.”
I stand up again. There are fish right at my feet. “This is like being in a giant aquarium!” I try to bounce on the ocean, but I get more water up my nose and splash Keith, which is not at all cool.
“Cut it out!” he says.
Nobody cares that we drip water and sand all the way back to our hotel room.
We can do anything we want.
That is so cool.
31
The brightest sun in the world comes up in Hawaii. Part of our balcony faces the ocean and the other part faces a big rock called Diamond Head. That is like Diamond Girl, I think. It used to be a volcano, but it was shut off or something. I think they should turn it b
ack on. That would be exciting.
I imagine yelling at Keith. “Hey, Keith! Volcano! You better run!”
Down in the lobby they have papers that tell all the things tourists can do in Hawaii. Tourists are people that visit places and do not live there. I am a tourist in Hawaii but not a tourist in Everett. I might be a tourist if I went to Seattle. I do not know for sure because you might not be if you are in the same state. All the papers are very colorful and I have trouble deciding which ones I want. They are free and are just like postcards, but have interesting things to read. Like: This is the best luau in Hawaii or Save the endangered sea turtle or Rent a limousine for a day. We get pages and pages of stuff and take them up to our room. I look at pictures of boats and dolphins.
“Okay, Per, what do you want to do?” Keith asks.
I am lucky he has been to Waikiki for something called R&R when he was in Vietnam. He tells me he likes to reminisce. Gram always told me reminiscing was different than remembering.
“Reminisce! Ha! That’s when you lie about things that happened a long time ago,” Gram would snort.
“God, the babes, Per! I used to have to beat ’em off with a stick!” Keith was a good-looking guy when he was young. That is what he says.
“Horseshit!” Gram would say when she heard Keith say this. "He’s full of horseshit!” I do not say the S-word.
Gram’s box is on the dresser. It is turned so she can see through the sliding glass door out to the ocean.
“So where you going to scatter her ashes?” Keith moves Gram an inch over so she has a better view.
“What do you mean scatter?” I ask.
“You know. Like we talked about. Spread. Sprinkle. Throw out,” Keith says.
“Nowhere. I don’t want to scatter Gram in Hawaii, just give her a little visit.”
“You mean we’re taking her back with us?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you want to leave even any of her ashes here?”
“Keith, that would be gross! She needs to be kept together! You wouldn’t bury a body in two places.” I can feel myself getting a teeny bit upset. I miss Gram. I do not want to leave even a little piece of her in Hawaii.
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