Kill the Dead

I’M SITTING IN bed with Alice. She’s smoking and flipping through a magazine. “Something happened last night. There was this woman I met.” “I know. I’m dead. I’m not blind, dear.” “That’s the thing. You’re dead, but I still feel guilty. Like I was cheating on you.” “You’re such an idiot. That’s why I love you. It’s been eleven years since we last touched each other and I didn’t exactly die a virgin queen. I mean, I waited for you and hoped, but after a while it got clear that you weren’t coming back. A girl can’t rely on her Hitachi Magic Wand forever.” “You always cheated on me with technology.” “Technology is more reliable than boys or girls.” “You’re okay with what happened?” “You’re alive and I’m dead. Of course I’m okay.” “Thanks. It feels like I’m coming off a six-month bender. Things aren’t straight in my head yet.” “You are coming off a bender. Want me to tell you the secret of life?” she asks. “Please, no.” “Everyone in the world is a Charlie. The trick is to figure out which Charlie you’re going to be. Charlie Manson. Charlie Starkweather. Or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” “Charlie Chaplin.” “Charlie Parker.” “Charly.” “Who’s that?” she asks. “The retard from Flowers for Algernon.” “‘Retard’ is not a nice word.” “How would you know, retard?” “Whatever you say, Charlie Brown.” “I am not Charlie Brown.” “Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, Chuck.” “Did I ever tell you I thought I saw an angel when I was a kid?” “What happened?” “I’d left my bike on the lawn again and the old man yelled at me to move it. I went outside and there was a woman staring at me from across the street. Really intensely. She had dark skin and bright green eyes. For a second I thought that I’d died in my sleep and she was there to take me to Heaven, but she just shook her head, turned, and walked away.” “Why did she do that?” “I think she knew what I was and was there to tell me that no matter what I do, Heaven isn’t interested.” Alice shakes her head. “What a morbid little bastard. Your poor mother.” “Mom was worse than me. She saw angels everywhere. She looked for them like other women in the neighborhood looked for two-for-one sales at the booze warehouse by the freeway.” “Charlie’s Angels.” “Forget it. Charlie’s Angels is three people and none of them are Charlie.” “I was going to say your girlfriend Mason is Charlie Manson, but that’s too good for him. He’s Charlie Douche-bag.” “That’s exactly who he is.” She kisses me. I can taste the cigarette and her lips and tongue. “When you thought you saw Mason the other night, it wasn’t him. But he’s still looking for you. You should find him first.” “Am I really talking to you?” “I doubt it. Not with the whole being-dead thing and all.” “Yeah.” “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tell you real things.” “Like what?” “That something bad is coming.” “What do you mean?” “Something really bad.” “She’s right.” Brigitte is sitting in the doorway of the bedroom on one of Carlos’s bar stools and cleaning her gun with one of my old T-shirts. “Something bad is coming,” she says. “What do you mean?” Alice says, “Just remember who you are.” “What the fuck are you two talking about? Why are all dreams and prophecies so goddamn obscure?” “Because, dumb-ass, if any one of them flat-out told you what was coming, you’d try to stop it or change it. Some things you can’t stop. You just have to go through them. At least with a clue, you’ll be able to recognize it when it gets there.” “If a bus hits me I’m pretty sure I’ll notice. But it would be more help if you told me when to get out of the way.” “You ask a lot, James,” says Brigitte. “Sometimes you need to get run down,” says Alice. “It could keep something worse from happening.” “Now you’re both trying to piss me off, but that’s okay because I feel a lot less guilty than when this dream started. Thanks for that.” “See you around, Charlie.” “Dobrou noc, Sandman.”