Drunken Love, Que Son [jenna bush book club TXT] 📗

and two EMS workers walked into the room. And they asked him questions.

 

"Were you trying to kill yourself?" They asked after finding the bottle of Valiums in his pocket.

 

"No, I was trying to sleep."

 

"Any alcohol?"

 

"A beer."

 

Then they cuffed his hands and led him to an ambulance and took him to an emergency room. There they tied him up in a bed and a nurse drew his blood and a doctor asked him questions to test his sanity. At midnight they released him. The following morning Jane talked to him as if nothing had happened.

 

Adam continued to work, quit one job, got another, quit that job too, then got another. And life between him and Jane went on as it had been going on for years: misery.

 

In the fall of 2002, Adam made a road trip alone across the US continent. As he got closer and closer to the west coast, he thought more and more about Eve. San Jose where she was living was on his planned trip. He had wanted to go that route. He wanted to pass through San Jose, to leave his presence there because he knew Eve lived there. At least for some brief moments, he would be aware of the fact that they were only one or two miles apart: San Jose was not a big town. I will be very near you, he thought--even if it was only he who would know. Not like before when Eve first arrived in the US: she had lived in New York but not known that she was in the same city with him and he had not known she was in the same city with him, either. That was the worst situation imaginable. If Adam had known that back then, she would have been his wife now and they would have had at least three children. And happy together, perhaps. It would not be anything like what was going on with him and Jane. Because they loved each other. And love was the foundation on which to build happiness, he thought. Other things might get in the way, like money and shit, but love would be the equalizer. At least when he was having sex with Eve, his fantasy wife, it would have been different--because it would be sex seasoned deliciously with love. Adam salivated.

 

He arrived in San Jose one sunny afternoon on the third day of the trip. He checked into a motel room. Vagabond Inn. He thought about looking up Eve's telephone number in the phone book. He searched for her name in the White Pages but could not find it. Was it possible that she had an unlisted number or her phone was registered under someone else’s name? But even if he had found her number, would he have the courage to call her up? What if he called and her husband answered the phone, what would he say then? And what disturbance might he cause her family with his sudden appearance? Would she invite him over to see her family? But seeing her with too many people around would make him very uncomfortable. If he was going to see her, he only wanted to see her alone. If he called and she herself answered the phone, he would tell her to come to the motel to meet him and no one should know about it. That was what he wanted, but he felt it was impossible. First of all, he could not find her phone number. Then even if he had, how would he call discreetly and arrange a secret meeting with her? That afternoon he cruised around the town in the numbered streets because he remembered in the last letter Eve sent him years ago, the address contained a numbered street. It could be Ninth street, Second Street, Fourth street…He entertained the wild hope that he might encounter her on the street, perhaps they might accidentally glance at each other through the windshields of their cars and recognize each other. That would be heaven. After driving around for a while, he returned to the motel, feeling low, and lied in bed watching the afternoon sun through the window. Then tired of staying in bed and feeling agitated, he went out and strolled in the shopping malls, again held on to the hope of running into her. Adam was sure they would recognize each other the instant their eyes met. He remembered the main features of her face even if she must look a lot older now. It had been 24 years since they last saw each other.

 

But what Adam had hoped for did not happen. Running into an old lover in one accidental afternoon? It was like a blind man feeling for a needle in a haystack. In the evening he went back to the motel room, deciding to leave town the next morning to continue his trip. The next stop was Los Angeles. He was not going to see Eve even though right now they were possibly no more than one or two miles apart. He felt as if he had missed an opportunity. And he was not happy at all.

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

Shakespeare empties the pitcher, and looks at the clock: it is near two am, the time the tavern closes. The bartender is wiping off the counter, getting ready to close the bar. Then she turns off the tv and the neon sign at the window, and says to the patrons, who at the time are only Shakespeare and another man, that it is time to close. Shakespeare stands up and feels unstable on his feet. He has drunk a lot tonight. He anticipates a blackout but it has not happened, or not yet. He walks to the door, opens it, and a rush of cold air hits him in the face along with blowing snow. He sobers up.

 

He takes a few steps to the corner and hesitates, unsure of where to go. There is no one on the street; and visible under the street light, the snow blows and dances and bounces and twists wildly. He thinks about going back to his basement apartment, but quickly discards the idea. He would only feels more depressed inside the four walls. And even though drunk, he does not feel sleepy at all. Because of the cold air, there is less chance that a blackout will happen. Shakespeare likes the state of mind he is in now. He feels less constrained, even liberated, joyful, and confident. He has had enough alcohol for the night. Then without thinking, he walks in the direction of the subway. The snow has only dusted the surface and it is not hard to walk. When he gets into the tunnel, he saw no clerk at the booth, and he remembers that riding the train was free at this time of the year. So he walks through the gate and down the stairs. There is another person at the other end of the platform. It is not much warmer in the tunnel. Shakespeare turns up his coat collar and hugs himself against the cold. He sits on the bench and listens to the deep silence of the tunnel and his mind works back to the story. The last image he has of the lovers’ saga is Adam on a lonely trip through the vast land of the US and his sad afternoon in San Jose. Again, they were separated by a very small physical distance but it was like a million miles. There were other barriers, socially and psychologically, that were more formidable than physical barriers and Adam were not insane enough to break them down. Adam thought too much of the possible consequences, and that slowed down or even prevented him from achieving what he felt he wanted to achieve. He was not the type who took risks. A failed meeting with an old lover was only one example of his indecisiveness, a psychological condition that made him adverse to risks, and that might be the reason why he continued to be a failure in life.

 

But Shakespeare is determined that the lovers will meet again, one way or another. It will happen, and it will not because of chances or circumstances, but their own will. The question is when and how it will take place. At this point in the story, Adam and Eve had reached their early forties, and if they waited any longer, they would get older and older and there might be less and less a chance that they would meet. Time is not waiting for anyone, Shakespeare thinks. The morning after that sad day in San Jose, on his way to Los Angeles, Adam might get hit by another car and killed. The same fate might befall Eve in a different way. There had been two missed opportunities already, time was running out, and Shakespeare must find a way for them to meet--soon. Then what about a happy ending to the story? Shakespeare feels that a happy ending is becoming a remote possibility. Shakespeare thinks of a number of ways for them to end their saga, but none could produce a happy conclusion. He could have them commit a double suicide, like Romeo and Juliet. He could have them abandon their families and run off together. Or he could have them conduct a secret affair until they die while living a masked life--like Chekov’s lovers in "The lady with the dog." But no solutions seem satisfactory.

 

The cold and the hunger made Shakespeare tremble. He feels that he is out of shape. His chest is flimsy. And the amount of muscles on his body is small. He has lifted weight in the past while in his late teens and early twenties, trying to put some meat on his body but the result has been minimal. It is as if he was born flattop. He is not a muscled man. In fact, he looks like a character out of Chopin’s world: pale, thin, and sickly. He musters all his strength to struggle against the winds.

 

Shakespeare is somewhat sober because of the cold, his thoughts are clearer, and the power of his imagination has not diminished. As he sits on the train and rides into the center of town for what he does not even know, he thinks about the story again. He has gone at least two third of the way into the story, the part about Adam’s lonely trip through the continent; and near the end of the trip, his state of mind and his low feeling that afternoon in San Jose when he was unable to locate the object of his desire. Now what? How is the story going to proceed? How long has it been since the two characters were out of touch, out of sight? 25 years. That--is a very long time for any separation. Even the north and south of Vietnam did not separate that long. And it seems that there is no end to the separation. Shakespeare thinks he must reunite the characters, anyway he can.

 

The train stops, the doors open, and a man and a woman, both wrapped from head to toes, step into the car and sit down a short distance from him. They appear to be tired and weak: the man has his chin in his chest; and the woman, with her mouth slightly open, rests her head on her companion’s shoulders, and they fall immediately into a deep sleep as soon as they sit down. What are they, Shakespeare wonders, a pair of homeless lovers? Where are they going? Do they have a home to go to or do they only get into the subway for some warmth, to stay out of the snow storm, to ride out the night? A man and a woman! Why the fuck does it always have to be a man and a woman, Shakespeare asks himself. To perpetuate the race, that is why. Love is the topping on the pizza.