Read Online Cannibals in Love by Mike Roberts - Free Book Online Page A

situation.
    The pickup made a tortured sound and fired right up. With my adrenaline pumping, I found the clutch and scraped it into gear. We lurched forward and I felt insane. I didn’t know the first thing about driving a stick shift. I just tried to keep it in a low gear. Straight lines , I told myself as I accelerated into traffic. I was terrified of stalling this thing out. I couldn’t stop thinking of death. Was I really going to have to tell Mike’s girlfriend he was dead because I’d never learned how to drive a stick? I mean, Jesus Christ.
    Mike leaned forward and flipped on the radio, inexplicably. Van Morrison’s “Wild Night” came blaring out of the tiny speakers. Mike smiled and started to sing.
    â€œ The wiii-iiii-iiii-iiii-iiiiiild night is calling! The wiii-iiii-iiii-iiii-iiiiiild night is calling! ” He turned to me then, sounding insistent. “Sing it!”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSing it, goddammit!”
    â€œShut the fuck up, Mike. I’m trying to drive!”
    â€œHurry!”
    â€œI’m going as fast as I can!”
    â€œI’m dying!” Mike screamed theatrically. “Aggghhhh! I’m fucking dying!” He was cackling and going delirious on me. I floored it through a red light, with horns screaming out on both sides. I couldn’t even hear myself think.
    *   *   *
    In the end, of course, we made it. Mike lived. Everything was different after that, though. Mike became suddenly and unremittingly resolved. Resolved in being a father. Resolved in being alive. Resolved, even, in painting this next apartment orange. Slitting his wrist had been some kind of come-to-Jesus moment for Mike. The brooding silences were replaced by stupid jokes. NPR was overtaken by classic rock. He even entreated me to play the name game with him. Baiting me into talking him out of calling his unborn child Michael. One more thing that he was fully resolved about now.
    â€œWhat about Tony?” I would ask mildly.
    â€œToo ethnic,” he would deadpan.
    â€œHow about something modern, like Todd or Chad?”
    â€œWhat is this, a country club?”
    â€œHow about Dave?”
    â€œToo many vees.”
    â€œIt’s one vee,” I protested.
    â€œThat’s too many.”
    And on and on this way. I couldn’t help but laugh with him. I’d started to wonder what kind of painkillers he was actually on. But mostly I resisted the urge to psychoanalyze Mike. I didn’t want to think about how the pressure he was feeling had caused him to cut his wrist and almost die. If he said that he was happy now, then I was happy for him. He could play the radio as loud as he wanted, for all I cared. I couldn’t even hear it anymore. Classic rock was the sound of orange paint drying.
    *   *   *
    Slowly, I began to realize that my brother wasn’t leaving the house. Not to go back to Maryland, and not even to go outside. He wasn’t eating; he wasn’t showering. He hadn’t even changed his clothes yet. He carried around with him this undertow of dread. You could feel it coming off of him in waves as he stalked from room to room.
    â€œDid you know that the Queen of England is in town?”
    â€œWhat?” I asked. “Why would I know that?”
    He shrugged. “She’s here to meet with the president. A state dinner or something.”
    â€œGood. That will solve everything.”
    He leaned against the counter and watched me put my groceries into the fridge. Staring at me, in silence. He was waiting for me to speak. He wanted me to tell him something now, I knew. But I didn’t even know what he was doing here.
    â€œHere. Drink this. You’re freaking me out.”
    I pulled a tall can off a six-pack ring and handed it to him. We leaned back against the countertop and drank our beers in silence. I was grateful for the car, of course, but at what cost? Was I really responsible