up at me, her eyes wide and sweet and a little dazed, as they always were. She held my arm even more tightly against her breast.
'Very happy,' she said. 'I like happy endings, don't you, Den-Den?'
'Love them,' I said. I should maybe have been thinking about the promise of her breast, but instead I found myself thinking about Arnie.
That night I had a dream again, only in this one Christine was old - no, not just old; she was ancient, a terrible hulk of a car, something you'd expect to see in a Tarot deck: instead of the Hanged Man, the Death Car. Something you could almost believe was as old as the pyramids. The engine roared and missed and jetted filthy blue oilsmoke.
It wasn't empty. Roland D. LeBay was lolling behind the wheel. His eyes were open but they were glazed and dead. Each time the engine revved and Christine's rust-eaten body vibrated, he flopped like a ragdoll. His peeling skull nodded back and forth.
Then the tyres screamed their terrible scream, the Plymouth lunged out of the garage at me, and as it did the rust melted away, the old, bleary glass clarified, the chrome winked with savage newness, and the old, balding tyres suddenly bloomed into plump new Wide Ovals, each tread seemingly as deep as the Grand Canyon.
It screamed at me, headlights glaring white circles of hate, and as I raised my hands in a stupid, useless, warding-off gesture, I thought, God, it's unendingfury -
I woke up.
I didn't scream. That night I kept the scream in my throat.
Just barely.
I sat up in my bed. A cold puddle of moonlight caught me in a lapful of sheet, and I thought, Died suddenly.
That night I didn't get back to sleep so quickly.
PART I: DENNIS - TEENAGE CAR-SONG Chapter 11 THE FUNERAL
Eldorado fins, whitewalls and skirts,
Rides just like a little bit of heaven here on earth,
Well buddy when I die throw my body in the back
And drive me to the junkyard in my Cadillac.
- Bruce Springsteen
Brad Jeffries, our road-crew foreman, was in his midforties, balding, stocky, permanently sunburned. He liked to holler a lot - particularly when we were behind schedule - but he was a decent enough man. I went to see him during our coffee break to find out if Arnie had asked for part or all of the afternoon off.
'He asked for two hours, so he could go to a buryin,' Brad said. He took off his steel-rimmed glasses and massaged the red spots they had left on the sides of his nose. 'Now don't you ask - I'm losing you both at the end of the week anyway, and all the jerk-offs are staying.'
'Brad, I have to ask.'
'Why? Who is this guy? Cunningham said he sold him a car, that's all. Christ, I didn't think anyone went to a used car salesman's funeral, except for his family.'
'It wasn't a used car salesman, it was just a guy. Arnie's having some problems about this, Brad. I feel like I ought to go with him.'
Brad sighed.
'Okay. Okay, okay, okay. You can have One to three, just like him. If you'll agree to work through your lunch hour and stay on till six Thursday night.'
'Sure. Thanks, Brad.'
'I'll punch you out just like regular,' Brad said. 'And if anybody at Penn-DOT in Pittsburgh finds out about this, my ass is going to be grass.'
'They won't.'
'Gonna be sorry to lose you guys,' he said. He picked up the paper and shook it out to the sports. Coming from Brad, that was high praise
'It's been a good summer for us, too.'
'I'm glad you feel that way, Dennis. Now get out of here and let me read the paper.
I did.
At one o'clock I caught a ride up to the main construction shed on a grader. Arnie was inside, hanging up his yellow hardhat and putting on a clean shirt. He looked at me, startled.
'Dennis! What are you doing here?'
'Getting ready to go to a funeral,' I said. 'Same as you.'
'No,' he said immediately, and it was more that word than anything else - the Saturdays he was no longer there, the coolness of Michael and Regina over the phone, the way he had been when I had called him from the movies that made me realise how much he had shut me out of his life, and how it had happened in just the same way LeBay had died. Suddenly.
'Yes,' I said. 'Arnie, I dream about the guy. You hear me talking to