Chapter 4c
I told him that I had danced with the devil in the pale moonlight. Maybe I have, it's hard to tell with no fucking idea what a person is talking about.
This place was slowly becoming home. I was beginning to forget about how I got there.
Paul the Mail Man pulled a long bong from his satchel and sucked all the smoke from inside before offering it to me. I took it, lit the bowl, breathed in deeply. "How long's it been?"
I rasped, "I haven't smoked weed since '86," passed it back and exhaled.
He said, "No," took a toke, croaked, "since you moved in here?"
I told him that I had always lived here, that I grew up on the other side of town, that I'd moved away then moved back, but always known this place.
He told me that one can't move away from here, only deeper in.
I thought about it.
It didn't make any sense. Geographically, I was further in here, closer to the city, but I'm pretty sure I left the city at least once in my life. Then again, I could hardly remember which way I needed to go to get to the city. Which city was it, for that matter? Maybe he was right.
The snow was gone and the sun was bright and hot and I was glad to have worn shorts. For a moment I couldn't find my sunglasses then realized they were sitting on top of my head. That's always an embarrassing moment, even when you're alone, but too funny to not tell somebody about if you're not.
I told Cindy about it and she laughed. She looked good in her bathing suit and was polite enough to wear one that consisted primarily of a few strings.
I said, "I don't think I should see you anymore."
She asked why?
I said, "Things are getting serious with she and I."
She asked who?
I couldn't remember her name. Not tip of the tongue, not, "I think it starts with an 'S' or maybe 'M' or 'B' or something," I just couldn't remember it at all. I said, "I just think it's not such a good idea."
She said, "I think I'd rather just ruin your life."
I motioned to the bartender for another beer, drank deeply and said, "That's not cool, man."
Paul said, "If you really think about it, maybe the Devil's not such a bad guy. Worst case scenario, he's gotta be a hell of a dancer."
I said, "Do you believe in Hell, Paul?"
"I guess I'll know when I get there. Not sure how so many people who've never seen it, never been there, never heard first-hand testimonies of the place can really be so sure if it's there or not."
"Well, if it is there then at least we know that you can leave this place without going deeper in."
Paul chuckled a little, "Hell doesn't sound like it could be deeper in?"
I said, "What do you suppose happens to us when we go?"
Paul nodded thoughtfully but didn't seem pensive. He didn't have to consider the answer, didn't need time to form a response. I could see it written on his face that he already knew. The pause wasn't for him to think. The pause was for me to think and consider the question and the gravity of it. He said, "The sun sets and you blow away."
He had not yet begun to make sense. I said, "Huh?"
He said, "Pulvis et umbra sumus."
Yeah, I said, I guess I see what you're saying. The sun had settled behind a cloud so I raised my sunglasses.
Cindy said, "So what do you think happens to us?"
I asked, "What happens to you or what happens to me? Or what happens to you and I?"
She shrugged. Paul said, "Let's try them all on, one at a time." Cindy said, "What happens to you and me?"
It was my turn to shrug. "Either you go away or you don't."
She said, "Either I ruin your life or I don't."
"Yeah," I said, "that's the long and short of it."
"And what happens to me at the end?" Somebody said it.
"You die. You all just die and go away."
"And?"
"And then you're dead. Game over, no credits, out of quarters, the end."
"You'd just write us off like that?"
"Are you planning on coming back?"
Cindy said, "I might, you never know."
Paul said, "And what about you?"
I don't know. I tell him, "I don't know." I can't die and just be gone. Thought has always been there, for as long as I can remember, I can't imagine that just stopping or me just ceasing to exist. I say, "Maybe I'll go deeper in."
Darren, who had all but vanished, said, "Maybe you shouldn't," and poured another beer.
I asked him if he thought I could leave this place because Paul seems to think otherwise.
He said, "Maybe not leave, but you could at least forget about it for a while."
