Interstate (24 page)

good,” and wondered “What brings all of this stuff up?” but didn't want to ask because didn't want to continue it, and she took from that little well in the door to hold things like change or a pen or just to hold on to or whatever it's for, two figures Margo had made for her out of pipe cleaners, or made for herself and Julie had taken from the house before she left, and started walking them together up opposite arms till they met on her chest and then held them high and said “This one's Millicent, other's Magnificent, say hello,” and he said “Hello, girls, how's it going? nice names, twins I suppose,” and she said “No, they're different colors,” and he said “Oh,” and drove. Time they were in the Aquarium on line for the second floor, kids up front, he several people behind and they were standing by the escalator entrance just looking at the ground and he wondered why they were staying there with so many people behind them wanting to get on. Maybe looking at the flat steps sliding out of the opening and slowly popping up, and after a while when there was a long line behind him he said “Girls, what're you doing? stop fooling, people want to get on,” and Margo scowled at him, Julie was hidden behind some people now, a man near them said to him “There's a lady here trying to get her stroller on, it's not them,” and he said “Sorry, thought it was my girls, sorry,” and the man cocked an eyebrow and faced front and the woman and man behind her holding the front of the stroller with the kid in it and the girls and the man from before got on, and when he got off the escalator and looked for his kids he saw the woman un-snapping her boy from the stroller and he said “Excuse me, you must have been bent over taking care of him when I yelled and I didn't see you, so I thought it was my girls holding up the line,” she didn't say anything, shook her head as if he was terrible in some way—way he treated his girls, way he just shouted out like that without knowing what was going on, that he was lying and had seen her but used the girls-excuse as a way to get her to get the stroller on the escalator faster and which might have turned it over and hurt her child—more people are hurt on escalators, he once read, than in proportion—in ratio—how do you say it?—to people hurt on any other moving conveyance including cars—and he said “Anyway, I'm sorry,” and went to his girls, Julie seemed embarrassed by him, Margo gave him a dirty look and he said “I know, you both, I done wrong, I thought it was you two holding up the works downstairs, and don't say it, I shouldn't have yelled out, but I apologized to the woman with the stroller and she said she understood, she'd done it once herself but not at the Aquarium,” and Margo said “Yelled? You screamed like a hyena, making everybody wonder,” and he said “Who screamed? And after I explained, nobody wondered. I spoke loud, loudly—maybe not even a yell—to reach over the heads of the people in front of me, that's why. Anyway, it's crowded here, there really should be more space for people, with all these exhibits on both sides, so stay close,” and took Julie's hand and she pulled it away. Why? he thought, looking at her, and she looked away. Because Margo's mad and she thinks she's got to side with her? She'll cut you out of her will if you don't? Ah, okay, better he keeps his trap shut when she gets like this—hey, he's learned that much—and in a few minutes, so long as he doesn't touch her or make any signs to try and reconcile her or look at her searching for some clues to her mood—if he did she'd say “What, what're you looking at me like that?”—it'll be over; usually. Half an hour later or so—nothing more was said about the escalator incident, he didn't stare at her, acted as if nothing was wrong and everything was normal, and it really did seem things were back to being okay between him and them—they were in the basement cafeteria waiting for the dolphin show to begin, and first they didn't want anything when he said he was getting himself a coffee, they wanted to look in the gift shop a few minutes, so he said okay, “but you know I'm not buying you anything in there, if you want something it's with your own money if you brought any with you, for I'm not loaning you any either—I mean, that junk, once we get home, just gets lost, is wasted,” “We said we only want to look,” Margo said, “and they have some very good things, even Mommy said so, ecology things, and I still have that shark mobile you bought me when Julie was just a baby,” and he said “Yeah, ecology—you mean the ecology market, come on, go,” and he sat with his coffee at a table, they came out of the shop and Margo said they were hungry now and wanted a hotdog and soda, “No soda, your teeth,” he said, “and you'll eat a hotdog each?—they're two bucks here, I don't want to waste any more money,” and Julie said “When did we waste any of yours today, Daddy?—we have membership cards, so that's already paid for, and we haven't asked you for anything so far,” and he said “Please, first split a hotdog, and also a juice or iced tea or something good but with two cups, and if you finish those you can have more,” and they got a hotdog, he cut it in half with the penknife he keeps on his key ring, they didn't want anything to drink if they couldn't get soda, “That's all right,” he said, “you get too much sweet stuff as it is—I'm not blaming you but I've been too easy with you on that,” Margo took a bite, grimaced, put her hotdog down, Julie put hers down right after without taking a bite, Margo had that guilty look, Julie's a bit bewildered, he said “What's wrong?—no, I bet if I asked Julie she wouldn't know, for she's just following you,” “I am not,” Julie said, he said “I won't test you, sweetie, I'm not here to even old scores,” “What's that mean?—something nasty I bet,” “It means nothing, it means I'm saying the wrong things—what's the matter, Margo, suddenly stuffed?” and she said “I'm sorry but it tastes awful, full of ugly fat-juices,” he said “That's the water it's cooked in probably, so a tiny bit greasy, so what?” and she said “I don't like grease, I'm not eating it,” and Julie said “That's what's wrong with mine too and I'm not saying it because Margo did—it looks greasy,” and he said “But we paid two bucks plus tax for it—why do you two always ask for things—not ‘always' but often enough for things if you know you're not going to eat them?—just think if I had let you have two,” “You'd be crazy with anger now,” Margo said and he said “A little angry, sure, maybe, for the waste,” “Well, the second one might have been a good one and we'd split it, for this one isn't—taste it yourself,” and he said “I don't like hotdogs, at least this kind, full of pork and junk,” and she said “Then you shouldn't have let us get it if it's that,” and he said “You wanted it, I didn't think half of one would be bad for you, you have them so infrequently,” and she said “I wouldn't have wanted it either if I'd known what was inside, but it also just doesn't taste good, Daddy, it tastes spoiled and I've lost my whole appetite,” and Julie said “I did too,” and he said “Oh boy, you two are a real pair,” and bit into Julie's half—it looked more palatable, cleanly cut, not chewed, for he has no compunction about eating food his kids had their mouths on, in fact they're the only ones he'd do that with, he doesn't even do it with his wife except maybe if she wants to give him a spoonful of her soup because she thinks he has to taste it it's so good, he doesn't know why, maybe some thing that goes way back to when older people talked to him about diseases and germs and he thinks at least he and the kids have the same kind—and chewed and swallowed and said “It's fine, not poisonous, an overcooked pork hotdog like all the rest but less spicy than the ballpark kind, but if I was going to have it with anything, then mustard, not ketchup, which you kids slopped on—here, eat it,” and held it out to Margo, she pushed his hand away and said “I told you, I'm no longer hungry,” “Come on,” he said, “eat, eat, my child, have some, but at least you tried it—but you too, Julie, you haven't touched it and this half was yours,” and put it up to her mouth, she shut her eyes, mouth was open and he pushed the hotdog against her teeth, some of the ketchup got on, tears were coming, the chest starting its heaving, he took his hand away and said, didn't want to but did, wanted to placate them in some way but didn't, “What a goddamn waste my family is, a waste, from top to bottom, the worst, I wish I was through with you all,” and looked away, knew he was hurting Julie more than Margo because Margo stood right up to him while Julie cringed and probably now felt humiliated, that ketchup taste in her mouth, that in front of everyone he'd jammed that ugly hotdog against her clenched teeth, tears were probably dribbling down her cheeks or about to explode out of her eyes, probably a what-did-I-do-for-you-to-hurt-me-like-this? look, so he didn't look at her, either of them, didn't want to see Margo looking reproachfully at him for what he did to Julie, closed his eyes, opened them on the balcony-mezzanine above them and the railing around, people up there, for the time being happy families, boy on his mother's shoulders, father on one knee pointing something out to his daughter on the huge model whale hanging from the ceiling, his fingers, always back to his fingers, nails needed clipping and cleaning—that white stuff—wished he had one of his nail clippers he was always buying and losing or Margo and his wife were always borrowing and not returning, he'd maybe not clip—made too ugly a noise, that sharp ping and you could almost see from the sound the clipped nail piece flying off—but he'd clean his nails under the table, does that now, nails of one hand doing the nails of the other, after about a minute Margo said “Julie, let's go to the gift shop again—that okay, for a few minutes, Daddy?” he nodded without looking at her and said “No longer,” and later, finishing his coffee—not bad for a big public cafeteria like this, richer roast or something like chicory in it—looked at his watch and thought Where the hell are they?—it's four, show begins at four and doors opened ten minutes before that, and looked around—place was almost deserted, Julie was on the balcony-mezzanine looking through a bolted-down telescope at some part of the whale—the barnacles under an eye if he remembered right from one of his last times here with them when she told him to take a look—and he yelled “Julie, what're you doing?—the show's starting; Jesus, what's with you two kids?” and she seemed frightened, confused, something, hand shot up to her mouth, looked around for Margo, maybe, to explain or help or just be with her—she think he was going to go crazy on them again, maybe even hit them, drag them out of here without seeing the show? he felt like leaving because of their actions but wasn't going to, wanted to see the show himself, got a kick out of the way the two dolphins together plunged and jumped and flipped and dived and at the end slid into the wading area and waved their tails to the audience, and why was he getting so angry so many times today? she could be thinking—he didn't know, it happened sometimes, maybe it was chemical, the brain, a couple of times or more he thought maybe he has some pressure like a blood clot or tumor or another kind of clot on it that makes him act that way, but he did get like this about once a month for a few hours a day, unexplained anger and losing control and sometimes total rage, kicking over chairs, sweeping things off tables, at the top of his lungs yelling “shit” to no one in particular, sending the kids running into their rooms or outside and provoking his wife to come in if she was outside or into the room he was in if she was in another, for he never did any of these things in front of her, and say “What is wrong with you today? It's horrible for the girls and not so pretty for me. Maybe you should see a therapist about it—if it were me I would,” and thirty seconds after he'd told himself to control himself there'd be a similar rage—“Julie,” he yelled, “where's your sister?—we're late, the announcement just said the thing's starting, get Margo,” and she leaned on the railing and said “She's probably still in the gift shop,” “So go get her, now, now,” and she said “But the show's on this floor and I'll have to walk up again to see it—it's closer to you, Daddy, right over there,” and she gave him an opening and her gestures and look said she was ready to put it all behind her but he said “No arguments, I said to get her,” and she ran around the balcony and downstairs and into the shop and quickly came out with Margo who had a look-for-angry-look look, her defense, offense, meeting him halfway, whatever, well okay, he can understand that, he's been acting insanely, or just some way—testily, irritably, disagreeably, belligerently, tyrannically—but at least he wasn't shouting and snapping now, his face might still be a petulant mess but he was, he felt, calming down some, and he had embarrassed them, don't forget that, they hate it when he lashes out at them in front of others or just anytime, any criticism when people are around, really any criticism anytime, though at least here it wasn't in front of anyone they knew, and he said to himself as he walked upstairs with them “Now keep calm, go easy, be gentle and understanding,” and said under his breath a few seconds later
“Damn freaking kids,” and Margo said “What?” and he said “Nothing,” and she said “You still angry at us?” and he said “No, why should I be, it's over with,” and Julie said “You are too angry, your eyebrows are down,” and he said “I said I'm not, so I'm not, do you hear? I'm not, not, though don't bloody hell tell me I've no reason to be, two of you disappearing like that when you knew, Margo the most because she's the oldest, that we had a show to go to in a few minutes,” and Margo said “You should have reminded us better,” and he said “What did you want me to do, stick a sticker on you with the reminder and an alarm on it that went off ten minutes to four and also with some recorded voice equipment attached that said ‘You should be with your daddy, find your daddy, you have to go to the dolphin show with your daddy,'” and Julie was laughing and he said “What's so goddamn funny?” and she shut up and looked scared again and he said “Ah, nothing would have stopped Margo from staying in that stupid shop and having a fifth and sixth look at those chintzy knickknacks and assorted trash,” and walked ahead of them, telling himself “Why didn't you stop when you had the chance?—not because you can't, you could have, that stuff about brain chemistry and clots is pure crud, and when she laughed that was when you could have relaxed things, said ha-ha to yourself, ‘What a dumb bunny I am,'” and looked back, they were several feet behind and he went back and said “Okay, I'm acting wrong, I know, but so what?—we'll work it out later but now we really have to move if we want to be let in—you don't want to see it, fine, we'll go home,” and Margo said “No!” and moved faster but Julie, downcast, dragged even slower behind and he said to her “Come on, come on, what is it, you got to give me a fight with everything I ask?—move, move,” and shoved her shoulder forward to get her to walk faster and right away knew what it would do, “Oh, you're impossible,” and walked fast to the nearest entrance, gave the man their tickets and said “Other two are for the little slowpokes behind me if they're still there, I really don't care,” and went through, what the guy must be thinking now, he thought, and knew if he turned around he'd see Julie crying, Margo comforting her, turned around, they were past the turnstiles, man was taking a few more tickets, she was holding Margo's hand, staring at the ground and about to cry, and he looked around: place is packed, show hadn't begun, window curtains have already been closed, “Come on, girls, hasn't started yet, we're lucky, but no seats except at the side sections way on top—knew we should have got here earlier,” and went up the stairs—did he have to add that about “earlier”?—and into one of the left-side aisles with three to four spaces together on the bench, and sat, “Damn,” he thought, “ruined everything for the day when it could have been so nice, sitting here with them, talking about what's to come, seeing their excitement, and then for hours after, ruined it for them, himself, who knows what else?”—kids were standing in the aisle, not wanting to sit with him?—“Come on in, water's fine, everything's okay, really—sit before someone takes your seats,” and Margo pushed Julie in first, and when they were seated he said to Julie “Listen, my dearest, I'm so sorry, I got excited, it wasn't your fault and I didn't mean to hit your arm and I apologize, deeply I do,” and she looked at the two women and men in wet suits hustling from opposite sides to the center of the bridge behind the main pool, and he touched her hand, she pulled it back and he said “Please speak to me—I'm not so bad, and like everyone else, I have my off days, and I truly hate being mean to you, which I admit I was, I was, and seeing you sad and I want to apologize and I'll do my best not to act like that again—I am apologizing, in fact,” and she said while looking at the huge monitor above them showing the trainers patting the heads of the two dolphins and sticking fish in their mouths “It wasn't my arm, it was my shoulder—I'm sure it's sprained it hurts so much,” and he said “It's not, believe me, and I'm sorry, your shoulder, not your arm, I forgot,” and one of the women said into what must have been a portable mike attached to her suit “Hello, everyone,” and a few people in the audience said hello and she said “Say, where am I?—there's no response out there—is there human life in this big beautiful space?—hello, all you bipeds, welcome to the”—“What's a biped?” Margo asked him and he said “Two feet, walking,” and she said “Like a person?” and he said “Only,” and she said “Ostriches walk with their two feet and don't fly,” and he said “But they've wings, even if they're not working—I don't know, maybe you're right”—“National Aquarium's Marine Mammal Pavilion show”—“Or maybe an ostrich's feet don't count as that-kind-of-feet bipedal,” he said, “for they're two- or three-toed, aren't they? and penguins and other flightless birds like that neither because their feet are webbed, I think—we'll look it up when we get home…Margo asked me what's a biped,” he said to Julie, “—do you know?” and she said “I don't care”—“Now this time let's hear a rousing boisterous hello so I know you're out there,” and hundreds of people including Margo and he shouted hello—he never had before at any kind of event like this, just thought it might do something to get Julie more interested in the show and away from her hurt, Daddy as one of the excited guys instead of his usual just watching things quietly—“Say, now that's a lot better, because for a moment there I thought you folks had fallen asleep into the arms of Morpheus on me just when our wonderfully charming dolphins are about to do their superextraor-dinary things,” and he said into Julie's ear “I swear, my darling, I only meant to give you a tiny push to move faster and I accidentally must have done it harder—I was afraid there'd be no seats left and we did get here just in time for these—you saw,” and she said “You pushed me hard because you were angry and wanted to hurt someone—you get like that; Mommy and Margo even say it,” and he said “When do I? and what an accusation, and saying the family agrees with you—it's totally untrue, I'm not like that, or only a little, which is no more than anybody, but let's talk about it later and watch the show, it should be good.” Later: kept sneaking looks at her to see if she was still angry at him or just if she was starting to enjoy the show, which would mean she'd taken her mind off the shoving incident and his other blowups, and she seemed to—laughed, slapped her hands, said “Oh my gosh” to something the dolphins were doing, slipped some Aquarium brochure into the book he was holding, and near the end of it—they'd seen the same show three or four times this year, or it was a little changed from the first one they saw when there was a third dolphin who'd since died—she got up and sat on his lap with her back to him, not once looking at him when she was on it—maybe her way of making him feel better or saying she felt better and had accepted his apology and even now believed his excuse for the shove or maybe just to see the show better, though couldn't be that since they were up too high already and no one had been blocking her view, or because the wood bench was getting uncomfortable or she was cold or tired or scared of something in the show, or something. Anyway, after about a minute of her being up there he kissed the back of her head and she didn't turn around or say or do anything.