Anything Can Be Dangerous (27 page)

Her favorite
girl
card was FANCY NANCY.

Fancy Nancy sat on a pink-and-white
striped chair. She had a hat on her head and a mirror in her hand
and a purse that looked like a teakettle. Carrie imagined Ready
Freddie and Fancy Nancy getting married someday and having babies
that looked just like them.

Other cards she loved included Jolly
Jean, Corny Carl, Lady Luisa, Skinny Minnie, Jumping Jack, Scary
Harry and Slim Jim. Then there was the OLD MAID. Nobody liked the
Old Maid. And because nobody liked her, Carrie decided she liked
the Old Maid just fine. It was only fair. And her mother always
said if you can’t play fair, you shouldn’t play at all.

Carrie pulled a photo album from her
bag and put the bag at her feet.

The album had a picture of three Care
Bears on the cover: Love-A-Lot Bear, Tenderheart Bear and Bedtime
Bear. Care Bears were
okay
,
but they weren’t half as good as Kermit and were nothing next to
SpongeBob.

SpongeBob SquarePants and his best
friend Patrick were amazing. If she were a resident of Bikini
Bottom she would eat at The Krusty Krab every day, just to play Old
Maid with the pair of them.

She opened the photo album, which held
one picture per page. She flipped through the pages slowly; then
she lifted her Coke can from the cup holder and sucked a mouthful
through a straw like she was in a drinking race.

After she put the can back in the
holder she said, “I hafta go the bathroom.”

Stephenie was thirty years old and
looked a whole lot like her daughter. Not so much now, but when she
was Carrie’s age the resemblance was spooky. Back then she was
cute. Today she was beautiful. She had subtle features, a slim nose
and lips that were neither thin nor full. On a day like today she
fixed her hair and Carrie’s hair the same way: in adorable little
pigtails. The twosome looked so delightful it made you want to
barf.

Stephenie said, “What’s that? You need
the bathroom?”

“
Yeah.”

Stephenie slid a hand along the
steering wheel, looked at the gas gauge and said, “Okay. I need to
stop anyhow. I’m almost out of gas.” She stuck her tongue out and
made a silly face and for a moment, Carrie thought her mother
looked like Ready Freddie.

Carrie said, “Really?”

“
Yep. The gas gauge is
telling me it’s time for a fill up.”

“
Are we going to run out of
gas? Madeleine Nyssa said that her daddy ran out of gas when they
were going to their grandpa’s house and they had to call a doctor
to get some help.”

Stephenie pinched her smile and tried
not to laugh. Sometimes it was impossible not to laugh. Carrie was
constantly saying things in ways only a child would consider
appropriate. “Madeleine Nyssa told you
that
, did she?”

“
Uh-huh. Yes she did. She
also said her mommy got mad at her daddy and they were kissing and
then she got a bleeding nose.”

“
Oh really?”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
Well, I don’t think we’re
going to run out of gas there babe, so don’t get too worried about
it.”

“
Okay mommy. I won’t get
too worried about it. I’ll try to keep my nose from getting all
bleedy too.”

Stephenie smiled. “That sounds good.
How bad do you need the washroom, really bad?”

Carrie grabbed her Coke and put the
straw to her lips and enjoyed another drink. She put the can down
and said, “Yes. I have to go
really
bad. It might come out in my pants a little.”

“
Well don’t do that. If you
need to pee I’ll stop the car and you can pee at the side of the
road. Do you want me to pull over so you can go?”

“
No. I can hold it inside
my tummy ‘til we find a bathroom.”

Stephenie put pressure on the gas
petal and the car moved a little faster. The highway was pretty
much empty so she could drive as fast as she wanted. She didn’t
need a speeding ticket though, so if worst came to worst she
would
pull over and Carrie could
relieve herself at the side of the road whether she thought it was
a good idea or not.

She said, “Do me a favor,
babe?”

“
Yeah?”

“
Stop drinking the Coke. It
only makes you need the bathroom more.”

Carrie eyed the can suspiciously.
“Okay, I won’t have any more until after I go.” She grinned,
showing the big hole where a tooth had once been.

“
Great. Do you have to go
number one or number two?”

“
Number one.” She held up a
single finger so her mother could see.

Stephenie nodded her head and Carrie
smiled.

Carrie loved her mommy more than
Kermit, the Care Bears and SpongeBob together. And after watching
Stephenie nod her head, she decided to nod her head too.

2

Ten minutes passed.

Stephenie turned on the radio and
flipped through the stations. She found a song that wasn’t too
annoying, might have been
Radiohead
. She turned it low and let it play.
Resting an elbow on the open window she looked at the gas gauge
again.

She was almost out of gas.

She didn’t tell Carrie this
information, but she was worried about how much gas was in the tank
and how far it would take them. Being stranded at the side of the
road was quickly becoming more realistic and today wasn’t a great
day for that type of adventure. It was hot outside. The late August
sun wasn’t fighting its way through many clouds and the wind factor
was nonexistent. Then again, it was nearly 7:30 pm. The heat was
sure to ease soon.

Carrie flipped through the pages of
her photo album.

Looking at a photo of her daddy, her
face saddened. It had been five months since daddy had gone to
heaven and she was finally beginning to accept the fact he wasn’t
coming back. It wasn’t fair. Madeleine Nyssa’s daddy didn’t have to
go to heaven. In fact, none of the kids she played with had daddies
that had to go away forever.

She wanted her daddy to come home.
Sometimes she asked God to send daddy home and she promised to keep
it a secret and not tell anybody. Sometimes she asked God if daddy
could drop by for a visit because she missed him, and because she
wanted to show him the tooth that fell from her mouth after she
wiggled it with her tongue. God didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure if
she liked God. She knew she was supposed to love him and figured
that loving him was okay, but she didn’t know if she liked him. God
didn’t play fair. He never responded to her questions, he never
dropped by to say hello, and he was keeping her daddy all to
himself. Mommy said people that don’t like sharing are spoiled
brats. Sometimes she thought God was a spoiled brat but she never
said anything because she didn’t want to say any swears.

Stephenie looked at Carrie; her brow
furrowed.

Carrie didn’t notice.

Stephenie said, “Do you miss
him?”

Carrie turned the page.
“Yes.”

“
It’s okay to miss him you
know. I miss him. I think about him every day.”

“
So do I.”

“
We’ll be okay babe. We’ll
get through this. Every day things get a little easier so don’t
worry. It’s okay to miss him but try not to worry.”

“
Are you going to get us a
new daddy?”

Stephenie took a moment to find the
right combination of words. “I don’t know what to tell you babe.
Right now I’m not looking for a new daddy but I don’t want to say
there won’t ever be one. Do you want me to find a new
daddy?”

“
No. I want the old one
back.”

“
Carrie, you
know––”

“
Yeah, I know, I know.
Daddy is on an elevator for heaven and he can’t come back to visit
us ever, even if God says it’s alright. You don’t hafta tell me. I
know he’s not coming home. God won’t let him.”

Stephenie didn’t say anything. She
didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t a new conversation; they had
talked about Hal’s death a hundred times or more.

Hal had a terrible accident while he
was at work and now he was dead and life goes on, even though it’s
hard. And it
was
hard. The
past five months had been hard for so many reasons. Hal’s death was
the big reason, of course. But the fact Stephenie had been
in-and-out of therapy and prescribed a handful of drugs wasn’t
helping anything. She was irritable and irregular and her
nightmares had her waking up in tears. The doctors (all four of
them) were telling Stephenie that when they found a suitable
combination of drugs and dosages, sleep would be easier and her
body would function more regularly. Until that time she had to be
strong, pay close attention to her body and let them know what was
happening.

Stephenie figured the trip would be
good for both of them. Visiting mom and dad was something she
didn’t do often enough. And besides, a six and a half hour drive
wasn’t that far. It was doable. And it was time.

Hanging from the rearview mirror was a
small portrait of Jesus Christ.

Stephenie’s mother had given it to her
at Hal’s funeral. She hung the portrait around the mirror for no
real reason, aside from the fact that her mother would notice it
and appreciate it being there. Oddly enough, she liked it there
too. She wasn’t a Catholic or a Christian, but she found comfort in
the image. Jesus had eyes that were kind and sad and without a
trace of anger. And if the stories were true he had a reason to be
angry,
beyond
angry. If the
stories were just stories, well then, she supposed there was
something worth thinking about inside the message.

Stephenie looked at the gas gauge
again.

Empty.

A cold sweat threatened to break out
on her forehead.

Carrie said, “Are you okay
mommy?”

Stephenie took her eyes off the road
and looked at her daughter. “What’s that babe?”

“
I said are you
alright?”

Stephenie was emotionally charged,
strung out on meds, and had a reoccurring nightmare where her
husband fell eighteen stories and landed on a sign that said DANGER
- MEN WORKING. Sometimes Hal screamed as he fell and sometimes he
didn’t. Sometimes he said things as he dropped. Things like,
I told you I didn’t want to go to work today. I
told you I wasn’t feeling well, right babe? Why did you push me
into going to work today Stephenie? Why didn’t you let me stay
home? I knew I wasn’t feeling well and you said I was being a lazy
baby. You said I was making excuses and now I’m dead. Is that what
you wanted Stephenie? Is that what you wanted, babe? Who’s going to
take care of Carrie now, huh? Who’s going to bring home the bacon?
Not you Stephenie. You’re falling apart. You’re falling apart and
I’m just falling. And when I hit the ground I won’t make a simple
little splat on the sidewalk, I’ll come down on the fence and my
body will be severed in half. It will be a closed casket funeral
and while you’re standing above my remains it will occur to you
that I could have been placed in two separate boxes. Whose fault do
you think that is, huh babe? Do you have an answer for me? Huh? Do
you or not? Do you know what I think? I think it’s your fault I was
chopped in half at the waist Stephenie. I think it’s ALL YOUR
FAULT.

“
Mom?”

“
Huh?”

“
I said are you alright?
You look pale mom. You look like you’re sweating.”

Stephenie focused on the road, knowing
she could have driven the car straight into a river without knowing
it. She said, “I’m okay babe.”

“
Are you sure?”

“
Yeah. I’m
sure.”

Carrie put her hand on the Coke can
then pulled it away as if her fingers had been burned. She squeezed
her legs together and snuck a hand in-between them.

She said, “Okay mom. Just
checking.”

“
I love you babe. Don’t
worry about me. Things are going to be all right. You just
watch.”

Up ahead was
something;
Stephenie wasn’t sure what the
something was but it looked promising. Less than twenty seconds
later everything came into view. There was a gas station with a
restaurant attached to it. Carrie could go to the bathroom and
she’d be able to fill up the tank. Everything was going to work out
just fine.

“
Look babe,” Stephenie
said. “A place to go to the bathroom.”

Carrie looked honestly relieved.
“That’s good,” she said. “I thought I might go pee-pee in my pants
even though I said I wouldn’t.”

“
Can you hold it another
minute?”

“
I think so.”

“
Well try babe.
Try.”

3

Stephenie pulled off the highway and
onto the establishment’s asphalted driveway. A large neon sign said
KING’S DINER. It looked seventy years old or more. She pulled her
car next to a pair of gas pumps that looked as old as the sign, if
not older. Above each pump a weather-faded notice read: WE
SERVE.