Read Online Bullets of Rain by David J. Schow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: David J. Schow
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below the tax radar, move at will, and pick who you want to fuck on a disposable basis. All that's left is paying the bills."
"It's easier to get into new relationships than it is to get out of old ones," said Art. Blitz crawled into his hideout, the space between the supports for the big oval coffee table, and sprawled on one side. He seemed to think he was safe in there, despite the fact he could plainly be seen right through the glass tabletop.
"Erica's 'new relationship' was a dipshit named Tommi, with an i at the end. Big Italian fucker, a club rocker edging up on forty and still trying to cut some lame demo with his lame band. A ladykiller with a motorcycle and a microphone case and very few strings attached. Kind of guy who dyes out the gray in his hair so he can still pretend to be twenty-five in the clubs, and shaves clean so he doesn't get salt and pepper on his muzzle."
"A free spirit," said Art, meaning an irresponsible buttwipe locked into the box of his own teenage past. "I bet he moved from girlfriend's apartment to girlfriend's apartment.''
"Yeah, Tommi was a dog with no papers, all right. He had a bungalow to himself near the beach-everything in Kaunakakai is 'near the beach'-all to himself because his previous chick just moved out on him, emptied the closets and vanished. Which left him with six weeks free rent and free cable, but without a fuck bunny for the weekend, which is where Erica comes in."
"And Erica, who has a level head up until this moment, gets swept off her feet?"
"No, she got swept onto her back," said Derek. The sting of memory still held residual venom, and the power to hurt him. "You ever read that fairy tale, The Girl Who Loved the Wind ?"
"Is it a classic?"
"No, it's a modern one, written in the Seventies. I checked it out. A girl has this overprotective father who keeps her inside this fabulous garden, to shield her from the wickedness of the world. It's a gilded cage that also protects her from anything real, and finally the Wind, which whispers of the world's promise and endless possibilities, blows over the wall and woos her away. It's a loss-of-innocence parable; you can read it as anything from gaining maturity to loss of virginity."
"And you're the evil, imprisoning father figure."
"Sort of. Erica saw our relationship as a box, and I thought it was a safe house; I mean, everyone's got to deal with the world. Instead of us progressing to four or five on the relationship scale, which is scary and intimidating, she decided to go 'back to one,' as the movie people say."
"With some rock'n'roll dood with no attachments, no obligations, and no worries."
"Yeah, he was the Wind, and he blew her." Derek snickered at his own crassness. "You know what it feels like to lose to a loser like that? Anything I could say was too reasoned, too rational, not spontaneous, and all just a trick to get her back in the box. She just lock-stock-and-barreled out the door to something less predictable and more familiar to the rest of her life. How do you argue with that? You don't. It's a choice, and you eat the fallout, which is why people advise other people never to fall in love."
"It couldn't last, though," said Art. "It's not designed to."
"But once it tarnishes, see, she's recaptured the mind-set and can just breeze onto the next thing, like a skipping stone."
"What yuppies call grazing instead of cocooning."
"And never get in too deep on anything you can't bail from at a moment's notice, because there's always another branch to light on. So, she's making no immediate noises that she's anything but deliriously happy and free and sampling life's rich cornucopia… with Tommi-with-an- i , who is a world-class meatball. This causes Derek-that's me-to brood a lot, because I wanted to invest my life in this person, and it's like she's saying that's swell and all, but
"It's easier to get into new relationships than it is to get out of old ones," said Art. Blitz crawled into his hideout, the space between the supports for the big oval coffee table, and sprawled on one side. He seemed to think he was safe in there, despite the fact he could plainly be seen right through the glass tabletop.
"Erica's 'new relationship' was a dipshit named Tommi, with an i at the end. Big Italian fucker, a club rocker edging up on forty and still trying to cut some lame demo with his lame band. A ladykiller with a motorcycle and a microphone case and very few strings attached. Kind of guy who dyes out the gray in his hair so he can still pretend to be twenty-five in the clubs, and shaves clean so he doesn't get salt and pepper on his muzzle."
"A free spirit," said Art, meaning an irresponsible buttwipe locked into the box of his own teenage past. "I bet he moved from girlfriend's apartment to girlfriend's apartment.''
"Yeah, Tommi was a dog with no papers, all right. He had a bungalow to himself near the beach-everything in Kaunakakai is 'near the beach'-all to himself because his previous chick just moved out on him, emptied the closets and vanished. Which left him with six weeks free rent and free cable, but without a fuck bunny for the weekend, which is where Erica comes in."
"And Erica, who has a level head up until this moment, gets swept off her feet?"
"No, she got swept onto her back," said Derek. The sting of memory still held residual venom, and the power to hurt him. "You ever read that fairy tale, The Girl Who Loved the Wind ?"
"Is it a classic?"
"No, it's a modern one, written in the Seventies. I checked it out. A girl has this overprotective father who keeps her inside this fabulous garden, to shield her from the wickedness of the world. It's a gilded cage that also protects her from anything real, and finally the Wind, which whispers of the world's promise and endless possibilities, blows over the wall and woos her away. It's a loss-of-innocence parable; you can read it as anything from gaining maturity to loss of virginity."
"And you're the evil, imprisoning father figure."
"Sort of. Erica saw our relationship as a box, and I thought it was a safe house; I mean, everyone's got to deal with the world. Instead of us progressing to four or five on the relationship scale, which is scary and intimidating, she decided to go 'back to one,' as the movie people say."
"With some rock'n'roll dood with no attachments, no obligations, and no worries."
"Yeah, he was the Wind, and he blew her." Derek snickered at his own crassness. "You know what it feels like to lose to a loser like that? Anything I could say was too reasoned, too rational, not spontaneous, and all just a trick to get her back in the box. She just lock-stock-and-barreled out the door to something less predictable and more familiar to the rest of her life. How do you argue with that? You don't. It's a choice, and you eat the fallout, which is why people advise other people never to fall in love."
"It couldn't last, though," said Art. "It's not designed to."
"But once it tarnishes, see, she's recaptured the mind-set and can just breeze onto the next thing, like a skipping stone."
"What yuppies call grazing instead of cocooning."
"And never get in too deep on anything you can't bail from at a moment's notice, because there's always another branch to light on. So, she's making no immediate noises that she's anything but deliriously happy and free and sampling life's rich cornucopia… with Tommi-with-an- i , who is a world-class meatball. This causes Derek-that's me-to brood a lot, because I wanted to invest my life in this person, and it's like she's saying that's swell and all, but
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