Eeeee Eee Eeee

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Eeeee Eee Eeee Page 2

by Tao Lin


  “You’re not obsessed,” Joanna says.

  “She is Sara. She doesn’t call me. I made her admit she liked me. She likes me. But we’re too alike. When you’re with someone and neither of you can stop saying good things. Then you both get very aware that life will end soon. I think that’s why we don’t talk that much. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

  “You’re rationalizing,” Joanna says.

  Andrew drives without thinking.

  He feels calm. He feels a little good.

  (“My sister is more depressed than both of us.”)

  “Are you passive-aggressive?” Joanna says. “You don’t call but expect her to, like she’s your mom.”

  “She’s not my mom.” Andrew’s mom is in Germany. Steve’s mom’s plane crashed. “I don’t know what ‘passive-aggressive’ means. It’s a cliché,” Andrew says. He feels tired. What will he do for the rest of his life? “How old is your sister?”

  “My best friend’s cousin’s name is Sara,” Joanna says.

  Best friend’s cousin. “I can’t process what you just said,” Andrew says. Steve’s dad, screaming. “Sara,” Andrew says. Everyone should be named Sara. Rename the dogs. Interpret them as one entity. ‘Sara.’

  “Maybe I know her,” Joanna says. “I think three of her cousins are named Sara. Turn left.” She points at her neighborhood; ‘Windy Brook.’ Andrew has an image of himself and Sara sitting by a stream with their feet in the water.

  “My sister’s twenty-five,” Joanna says. “Why?”

  Andrew turns into ‘Windy Brook.’ “Your sister should start a band with me. My friend Steve and I are starting a band.” Andrew will marry Joanna’s sister. Steve will feel left out. Killing-rampage.

  “Ashley plays bass guitar,” Joanna says. “She’s okay at it. I mean really good. I’m not jealous; I don’t know why I said she’s okay. She’s great.”

  “Everyone should be named Sara.” A bear with a hose on ‘full-blast’ setting, watering flower plants—crushing them, really—stares at Andrew’s face as Andrew drives by. Andrew thinks about squinting or something and blankly stares back at the bear.

  “My sister is a genius on bass guitar,” Joanna says, and gives some more directions.

  “I feel like how Honda Civics look. That’s why I drive a Honda Civic,” Andrew says. “Just kidding.” He wants Ashley’s phone number. Can I come inside to ‘court’ your sister? Inappropriate. Be patient. Wait ten days; don’t strategize. Wait exactly fourteen days, get her email address under the pretense of starting a band; use the email address to get her phone number; use the phone number to ask her to dinner under the pretense of something else. Wait fourteen days then go on a killing-rampage, culminating in Seattle with putt-putt, in the rain, with Steve’s dad’s severed arm. She’s twenty-five. Probably in Uzbekistan for the Peace Corps. Andrew is twenty-three. He should join the Peace Corps. He and Sara were going to vacation on the Canary Islands. Andrew does not know what the Canary Islands are. She said it, not Andrew. They had many ideas and plans. They climbed a tree. Andrew drops Joanna off. She runs across her yard with her pizza, jumps over a stump, goes into the house. She could have gone around the stump. It was more fun to leap over the stump, like a gazelle. So that’s how you have fun. Andrew sits in his car, feels bored and sarcastic, and starts to drive away. Joanna runs wildly at the car. Andrew is confused. Joanna knocks on Andrew’s window; she will invite Andrew inside to ‘court’ Ashley? Andrew puts the window down. Joanna is grinning. Shit-eating? A normal grin. She pays for the pizza. “Thank you, Andrew,” she says, and runs away. Andrew sits in his car thinking about rafting around the Canary Islands with Sara using an inflatable marshmallow raft. A bear comes out of Joanna’s house.

  Andrew puts the window up.

  The bear stares at Andrew.

  Andrew puts the window down a little.

  “Do you need something?” Andrew says.

  “Yeah,” the bear says.

  “Oh. What do you need?”

  “Come here.”

  The bear points at a house.

  “Do you need help?” Andrew says.

  “Come here,” the bear says.

  “Where?”

  “Do you want free money?” the bear says.

  “Why?”

  “Do you want a hundred dollar bill?” the bear says.

  “I don’t know,” Andrew says. He puts the window down all the way. “Why do you have free money?”

  “Come here.” The bear steps toward the house he pointed at before.

  “It’s a trick.”

  “Yes or no,” the bear says. “Do you want free money and a free laptop computer or not?”

  “I own a home computer.”

  The bear has a twenty-dollar-bill and a blue blanket and holds them in front and walks to Andrew’s car and puts the blanket on Andrew’s head and rips off Andrew’s door and the top of Andrew’s car. The bear picks up Andrew and carries Andrew to the house he earlier pointed at and in the side yard sets down Andrew, who takes the blanket off his own head. The bear kneels, opens a secret passageway under a patch of grass, and points at a ladder that goes underground. Andrew goes to the ladder. “Do it,” the bear says.

  “Do what?” Andrew says. “Why?”

  “Do it,” the bear says.

  The bear takes the blanket from Andrew and drops it down the passageway.

  “Oh,” Andrew says. “Good thinking. Good idea. Now I’m required to go get the blanket, or else I’ll appear ‘irresponsible,’ or something, an irresponsible human being littering in the wilds of North America. Yeah. I don’t know. Okay.”

  Andrew climbs down the ladder.

  The bear climbs down the ladder.

  They climb together.

  They are climbing.

  The bear kicks Andrew’s head.

  “Was that your head?” the bear says.

  Andrew doesn’t say anything.

  “Andrew,” the bear says. “Was that your head?”

  “Stop talking.”

  “What was it?” the bear says.

  “A laptop computer.”

  They keep climbing down.

  “Where’s your sledgehammer?” Andrew says.

  “Sledgehammer,” the bear says. “What are you talking about?”

  It gets colder.

  The bear makes noises like, “Hrr. Hrr.”

  “Not all bears are the same bear,” the bear says.

  They climb some more and reach a corridor.

  Andrew picks up the blanket.

  They walk through the corridor.

  There is a nook in the corridor.

  A moose is lying in the nook.

  The moose’s eyes are open.

  The bear takes the blanket from Andrew.

  The bear tells Andrew to keep walking.

  “A moose,” Andrew says.

  “Keep walking,” the bear says.

  Andrew keeps walking and reaches a cliff.

  Below the cliff is a city of dolphins and bears. Sometimes there is a very tall statue of the current president of the United States. Andrew recognizes the president’s face.

  The bear stands next to Andrew.

  “Hrr, hrr,” the bear says.

  “You’re cold,” Andrew says.

  “It’s a cold and lonely world,” the bear says.

  “Just kidding,” the bear says. “Sort of.”

  “I’m going to sit,” Andrew says.

  Andrew sits. A dolphin comes from the corridor. Andrew stands. The dolphin has a sledgehammer. Andrew looks at the sledgehammer; the dolphin slaps Andrew’s face. More dolphins come from the corridor. The cliff is crowded. More dolphins come; a dolphin is crowded off the cliff; as it falls it goes, “EEEEE EEE EEEE!” Andrew laughs a little. Two more dolphins fall and the cliff is not as crowded anymore. The dolphin with the sledgehammer says, “Watch this.” The other dolphins look. The dolphin with the sledgehammer slaps Andrew’s face.

  “Stupi
d,” says one of the other dolphins.

  And throws a smoke bomb.

  When the smoke clears there are many bears and no dolphins.

  A bears throws a smoke bomb on the floor.

  When the smoke clears there is one dolphin. The dolphin slaps Andrew’s face, throws a smoke bomb; smoke clears and there is the first bear. Andrew looks at the bear, who is taller than Andrew.

  “Are you okay?” the bear says.

  Andrew touches his cheek.

  It’s swollen.

  “Are you okay?” the bear says.

  “I’m okay,” Andrew says. “Are you okay?”

  The bear looks at Andrew.

  The bear kneels and opens a trapdoor.

  There is another ladder.

  The bear points at it.

  Andrew feels bored.

  “No, wait,” Andrew says.

  “What,” the bear says.

  “I already did that before.”

  “There’s two more,” the bear says.

  “I know,” Andrew says. “I already went. Uh, the squirrels.”

  “Hamsters,” the bear says.

  “I forgot. But I went; do you believe me. The hamsters are sad.”

  “Go again,” the bear says.

  “Go again.”

  “Go again,” the bear says. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Do you have a name?” Andrew says. “Do bears have names?”

  “Andrew,” says the bear.

  Andrew feels nervous. “I’m Andrew.”

  “My name is Andrew,” the bear says.

  “No,” Andrew says.

  “Uh, yes,” the bear says.

  “Oh,” Andrew says.

  “Go again,” the bear says. “We’ll have fun.”

  “How will it be fun?”

  “We are both named Andrew,” the bear says. “I don’t know.”

  “Your name isn’t Andrew,” Andrew says.

  “My name is Andrew,” the bear says. “What the fuck?”

  “I don’t know,” Andrew says. “I’m stupid. I feel stupid.”

  “Let’s go,” the bear says.

  “How will it be fun?”

  The bear scratches the wall and stares at Andrew.

  The bear looks at Andrew.

  The bear points at the corridor they came from.

  Andrew walks there and stands there.

  The bear pushes Andrew a little.

  Andrew walks through the corridor they came from.

  He glances at the nook without moving his neck; there are two aliens standing on a moose.

  The moose’s head is covered with a blanket.

  Andrew keeps walking; the bear is behind him.

  He makes it to where the ladder is and stands there.

  “The next time I have to point I’ll also punch you in your face,” the bear says. “And eat you.”

  “Do it,” Andrew says.

  The bear makes a fist, slowly moves the fist to Andrew’s face, touches Andrew’s face with the knuckles, with its other hand holds the back of Andrew’s head and slowly smushes Andrew’s face into the knuckles of its hand that it had slowly moved toward then touched the front of Andrew’s face with; the hand is furry.

  “Stop,” Andrew says.

  The bear stops.

  “Do it for real,” Andrew says.

  The bear punches the air by Andrew’s head.

  “Do it with good aim,” Andrew says. “And with eating. You said ‘and eat you.’ ”

  The bear climbs up the ladder.

  “Do it with a free laptop computer,” Andrew says. “Or I’ll kill you.”

  The bear climbs down and stares at Andrew.

  “There’s nothing to do,” the bear says.

  “I know,” Andrew says.

  The bear looks at Andrew.

  “Why were there statues of the president?” Andrew says.

  “Life is stupid,” the bear says.

  “I hate life more than you do.”

  “No,” the bear says.

  “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah.”

  “No,” the bear says and disappears.

  Andrew stands there.

  Then climbs up the ladder and walks to his car.

  The door and the top are back.

  Andrew opens the door and the door falls on the street.

  He drives out of ‘Windy Brook.’ The top of the car falls on the street. Why did Joanna become very happy after exiting the car? Don’t think about it. Start a band with Steve, if his plane doesn’t crash. Romantically pursue Joanna’s sister, Ashley, under the pretense of needing a bass player. Don’t strategize. Just get her number after fourteen days and start a band under the pretense, somehow, of a killing rampage. E-mail, phone-number, marriage. Martial arts, deer, nothingness. A band can make Andrew happy. Every song will be depressing, which will make Andrew happy. It is not impossible to be happy. One song will be about U-turns. ‘Allegorical.’ ‘Profound.’ When Steve comes back from New York City they will start a band. They’ll ‘screw around’ for two hours then feel depressed and go to Denny’s. (“Remember when my mom died?”) They’ll ‘jam’ for ten minutes and feel bored, and fucked. The word ‘jam’ embarrasses Andrew a little. ‘Screw around.’ Andrew needs to go back to Denny’s and apologize. He’ll throw a wad of cash at the doomed waitress then apologize sincerely. He will not overturn a table. He’ll blame Steve. Steve will go to jail. Use fake names. Thomas ran away, not me. I got caught up in the moment. Use clichés of language and fake names; give the cash in a manila envelope, smile contritely, apologize sincerely, use one or two clichés of language. Gotta run, don’t spend it all in one place. It’s 9 p.m. Do it tonight? Andrew is better, as a person, at night. In daylight he feels like a bad actor in an independent movie, about to go on a melodramatic killing spree.

  At home Andrew writes “Sorry” on an envelope. Below that, “For Real.” On another envelope he writes “Really Sorry” and puts two twenties in. Sounds sarcastic. On another, “Sincerely Sorry,” moves the twenties. The alliteration is too commercial. Writes “Sorry.” Moves the twenties. Andrew feels sorry for the twenties. At least they are a pair. The twenties are in love. Andrew is jealous.

  He drives to and parks behind Denny’s, turns off the car. I made a fucking U-turn. If Sara were here they’d walk around giving away envelopes containing mystery things. One envelope would have three wishes, and it would be real. In the morning they would climb a tree. There will always be the absence of Sara. There will always be the sad martial arts champion. In the distance there are apartments. There are trees, storage places, a few moose. There is a bear riding a moose like a horse. There is a retirement home with a fence and a moat around it. The fence is not enough. They need the moat in addition to the fence. One manager is not enough. (“Don’t rape her.”) The sad manager. The sad manager is fucked. Andrew as a small boy slept in the same room as his parents and sometimes woke to them having sex on the carpet. They had sex on the carpet instead of the bed. One time Andrew’s mom and dad were fighting in a restaurant. Andrew was seven or eight. His mom was angry that his dad had given her a disease, was how Andrew understood it. Andrew thought it was AIDS. He was crying. He wanted his mom to tell what was wrong because he thought she was going to die. A bear opens Andrew’s passenger door and sits in the passenger seat.

  “You lied,” the bear says.

  Andrew does not look at the bear.

  “Did you lie?” the bear says.

  The bear is breathing loudly.

  Andrew stares outside.

  There is a tree.

  The old people’s home.

  There will always be the old people’s home.

  “You lied,” the bear says. “You lied and made me sad.”

  The bear hesitates then leaves.

  Andrew’s mom said she would tell if Andrew stopped crying. He stopped crying and felt nervous. She said she would tell in the restroom. In the restroom Andrew felt ver
y small. Andrew’s mom locked the door. She bent over and said in Andrew’s ear that it was herpes—Andrew was looking in the mirror; his eyes were just a little above the counter and he looked at the top part of his head—and that she wouldn’t die. Andrew felt very happy and enjoyed his lunch even while his mom and dad kept fighting so that it was uncomfortable for everyone else in the restaurant. After college Andrew kept his job at the library and got another in a movie theatre. They tricked him at the movie theatre and he lost the job. At the library he began to take two-hour lunch breaks; one day they surrounded him and fired him. He had no money left and went home and lived with his parents in Florida. His mom was keeping things from him, he could tell. She had cancer or something but wouldn’t talk about it. Andrew’s dad was like, Your mom doesn’t want you to know, but I think I should tell you—and Andrew interrupted and said that if his mom didn’t want him to know he shouldn’t know. His dad walked away. Whenever there was partial nudity on TV Andrew’s dad would say, “This isn’t for kids.” Even when Andrew was twenty his dad would tell Andrew not to look. He’d say it in a strange tone that was serious and nervous and his face would look meek.

  A minivan parks adjacent Andrew. A girl and a boy, and some dolphins, talking loudly and laughing. Andrew leans over and pretends he is looking for something in the passenger seat. He is crying a little. “Your car has no top or driver’s side door,” says a boy. Andrew stares at the things on the passenger seat. CD cases, blue pens, a receipt from Albertson’s. He takes the receipt and stares at it, leaned over in the car. It’s dark. He can’t see anything. He folds the receipt and puts it in his pocket. He sits a while then gets out and walks toward Denny’s. He can feel he’s about to start thinking about Sara. He keeps walking and thinks about the future. The future. He has some vague images of things happening, or not happening, and then it feels like the future exists, already, for him to go home, lie in bed, and think about, like a memory; it feels like the past.

  Driving, delivering pizzas. No Sara. No future. At a stoplight Andrew feels very calm suddenly. Feels like being filmed. He is in Florida, being filmed for an independent movie starring someone else. Sara, probably. His life must change. Things must happen and explode because of being in a movie. Andrew will teleport into a perilous situation, punch someone in the face; teleport to Sara, hug her. He was driving. There was a field and she was like, We should drive into that tree, like a garage. He was like, Let’s climb it and eat in it. They sat on branches and licked Popsicles.

 

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