She got him dressed and she fed him sips of water and she got him standing and walked him in circles around the little paddock he’d collapsed in.“I need to get Georgie out of the car,” he said. “I’m going to leave him in the cave. It’s right.”She bit her lip and nodded slowly. “I can help you with that,” she said.“I don’t need help,” he said lamely.“I didn’t say you did, but I can help anyway.”They walked down slowly, him leaning on her arm like an old man, steps faltering in the scree on the slope. They came to the road and stood before the trunk as the cars whizzed past them. He opened the trunk and looked down.The journey hadn’t been good to Gregg. He’d come undone from his winding sheet and lay face down, neck stiff, his nose mashed against the floor of the trunk. His skin had started to flake off, leaving a kind of scale or dandruff on the flat industrial upholstery inside the trunk.Alan gingerly tugged loose the sheet and began, awkwardly, to wrap it around his brother, ignoring the grit of shed skin and hair that clung to his fingers.Mimi shook him by the shoulder hard, and he realized she’d been shaking him for some time. “You can’t do that here,” she said. “Would you listen to me? You can’t do that here. Someone will see.” She held something up. His keys.“I’ll back it up to the trailhead,” she said. “Close the trunk and wait for me there.”She got behind the wheel and he sloped off to the trailhead and stood, numbly, holding the lump on his forehead and staring at a rusted Coke can in a muddy puddle.She backed the car up almost to his shins, put it in park, and came around to the trunk. She popped the lid and looked in and wrinkled her nose.“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get him covered and we’ll carry him up the hill.”“Mimi—” he began. “Mimi, it’s okay. You don’t need to go in there for me. I know it’s hard for you—”She squeezed his hand. “I’m over it, Andy. Now that I know what’s up there, it’s not scary any longer.”He watched her shoulders work, watched her wings work, as she wrapped up his brother. When she was done, he took one end of the bundle and hoisted it, trying to ignore the rain of skin and hair that shook off over the bumper and his trousers.“Up we go,” she said, and moved to take the front. “Tell me when to turn.”They had to set him down twice before they made it all the way up the hill. The first time, they just stood in silence, wiping their cramped hands on their thighs. The second time, she came to him and put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek that felt like a feather.“Almost there?” she said.He nodded and bent to pick up his end.Mimi plunged through the cave mouth without a moment’s hesitation and they set him down just inside the entrance, near a pair of stained cotton Y-fronts.Alan waited for his heart to stop thudding and the sweat to cool on his brow and then he kicked the underwear away as an afterthought.“God,” he said. She moved to him, put her arm around his shoulder.“You’re being brave,” she said.“God,” he said again.“Let it out, you know, if you want to.”But he didn’t, he wanted to sit down. He moved to his mother’s side and leaned against her.Mimi sat on her hunkers before him and took his hand and tried to tilt his chin up with one finger, but he resisted her pull and she rose and began to explore the cave. He heard her stop near Marci’s skeleton for a long while, then move some more. She circled him and his mother, then opened her lid and stared into her hamper. He wanted to tell her not to touch his mother, but the words sounded ridiculous in his head and he didn’t dare find out how stupid they sounded moving through freespace.And then the washing machine bucked and made a snapping sound and hummed to life.The generator’s dead,he thought.And she’s all rusted through.And still the washing machine moved. He heard the gush of water filling her, a wet and muddy sound.“What did you do?” he asked. He climbed slowly to his feet, facing away from his mother, not wanting to see her terrible bucking as she wobbled on her broken foot.“Nothing,” Mimi said. “I just looked inside and it started up.”He stared at his mother, enraptured, mesmerized. Mimi stole alongside of him and he noticed that she’d taken off her jacket and the sweatshirt, splaying out her wings around her.Her hand found his and squeezed. The machine rocked. His mother rocked and gurgled and rushed, and then she found some local point of stability and settled into a soft rocking rhythm.The rush of water echoed off the cave walls, a white-noise shushing that sounded like skis cutting through powder. It was a beautiful sound, one that transported him to a million mornings spent waiting for the boys’ laundry to finish and be hung on the line.All gone.He jerked his head up so fast that something in his neck cracked, needling pain up into his temples and forehead. He looked at Mimi, but she gave no sign of having heard the voice, the words,All gone.All gone.Mimi looked at him and cocked her head. “What?” she said.He touched her lips with a finger, forgetting to be mindful of the swelling there, and she flinched away. There was a rustle of wings and clothing.My sons, all my sons, gone.The voice emerged from that white-noise roar of water humming and sloshing back and forth in her basket. Mimi squeezed his hand so hard he felt the bones grate.“Mom?” he said softly, his voice cracking. He took half a step toward the washer.So tired. I’m worn out. I’ve been worn out.He touched the enamel on the lid of the washer, and felt the vibrations through his fingertips. “I can—I can take you home,” he said. “I’ll take care of you, in the city.”Too late.There was a snapping sound and then a front corner of the machine settled heavily. One rusted out foot, broken clean off, rolled across the cave floor.The water sounds stilled.Mimi breathed some words, something like Oh my God, but maybe in another language, or maybe he’d just forgotten his own tongue.“I need to go,” he said.
She got him dressed and she fed him sips of water and she got him standing and walked him in circles around the little paddock he’d collapsed in.
“I need to get Georgie out of the car,” he said. “I’m going to leave him in the cave. It’s right.”
She bit her lip and nodded slowly. “I can help you with that,” she said.
“I don’t need help,” he said lamely.
“I didn’t say you did, but I can help anyway.”
They walked down slowly, him leaning on her arm like an old man, steps faltering in the scree on the slope. They came to the road and stood before the trunk as the cars whizzed past them. He opened the trunk and looked down.
The journey hadn’t been good to Gregg. He’d come undone from his winding sheet and lay face down, neck stiff, his nose mashed against the floor of the trunk. His skin had started to flake off, leaving a kind of scale or dandruff on the flat industrial upholstery inside the trunk.
Alan gingerly tugged loose the sheet and began, awkwardly, to wrap it around his brother, ignoring the grit of shed skin and hair that clung to his fingers.
Mimi shook him by the shoulder hard, and he realized she’d been shaking him for some time. “You can’t do that here,” she said. “Would you listen to me? You can’t do that here. Someone will see.” She held something up. His keys.
“I’ll back it up to the trailhead,” she said. “Close the trunk and wait for me there.”
She got behind the wheel and he sloped off to the trailhead and stood, numbly, holding the lump on his forehead and staring at a rusted Coke can in a muddy puddle.
She backed the car up almost to his shins, put it in park, and came around to the trunk. She popped the lid and looked in and wrinkled her nose.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get him covered and we’ll carry him up the hill.”
“Mimi—” he began. “Mimi, it’s okay. You don’t need to go in there for me. I know it’s hard for you—”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m over it, Andy. Now that I know what’s up there, it’s not scary any longer.”
He watched her shoulders work, watched her wings work, as she wrapped up his brother. When she was done, he took one end of the bundle and hoisted it, trying to ignore the rain of skin and hair that shook off over the bumper and his trousers.
“Up we go,” she said, and moved to take the front. “Tell me when to turn.”
They had to set him down twice before they made it all the way up the hill. The first time, they just stood in silence, wiping their cramped hands on their thighs. The second time, she came to him and put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek that felt like a feather.
“Almost there?” she said.
He nodded and bent to pick up his end.
Mimi plunged through the cave mouth without a moment’s hesitation and they set him down just inside the entrance, near a pair of stained cotton Y-fronts.
Alan waited for his heart to stop thudding and the sweat to cool on his brow and then he kicked the underwear away as an afterthought.
“God,” he said. She moved to him, put her arm around his shoulder.
“You’re being brave,” she said.
“God,” he said again.
“Let it out, you know, if you want to.”
But he didn’t, he wanted to sit down. He moved to his mother’s side and leaned against her.
Mimi sat on her hunkers before him and took his hand and tried to tilt his chin up with one finger, but he resisted her pull and she rose and began to explore the cave. He heard her stop near Marci’s skeleton for a long while, then move some more. She circled him and his mother, then opened her lid and stared into her hamper. He wanted to tell her not to touch his mother, but the words sounded ridiculous in his head and he didn’t dare find out how stupid they sounded moving through freespace.
And then the washing machine bucked and made a snapping sound and hummed to life.
The generator’s dead,he thought.And she’s all rusted through.And still the washing machine moved. He heard the gush of water filling her, a wet and muddy sound.
“What did you do?” he asked. He climbed slowly to his feet, facing away from his mother, not wanting to see her terrible bucking as she wobbled on her broken foot.
“Nothing,” Mimi said. “I just looked inside and it started up.”
He stared at his mother, enraptured, mesmerized. Mimi stole alongside of him and he noticed that she’d taken off her jacket and the sweatshirt, splaying out her wings around her.
Her hand found his and squeezed. The machine rocked. His mother rocked and gurgled and rushed, and then she found some local point of stability and settled into a soft rocking rhythm.
The rush of water echoed off the cave walls, a white-noise shushing that sounded like skis cutting through powder. It was a beautiful sound, one that transported him to a million mornings spent waiting for the boys’ laundry to finish and be hung on the line.
All gone.
He jerked his head up so fast that something in his neck cracked, needling pain up into his temples and forehead. He looked at Mimi, but she gave no sign of having heard the voice, the words,All gone.
All gone.
Mimi looked at him and cocked her head. “What?” she said.
He touched her lips with a finger, forgetting to be mindful of the swelling there, and she flinched away. There was a rustle of wings and clothing.
My sons, all my sons, gone.
The voice emerged from that white-noise roar of water humming and sloshing back and forth in her basket. Mimi squeezed his hand so hard he felt the bones grate.
“Mom?” he said softly, his voice cracking. He took half a step toward the washer.
So tired. I’m worn out. I’ve been worn out.
He touched the enamel on the lid of the washer, and felt the vibrations through his fingertips. “I can—I can take you home,” he said. “I’ll take care of you, in the city.”
Too late.
There was a snapping sound and then a front corner of the machine settled heavily. One rusted out foot, broken clean off, rolled across the cave floor.
The water sounds stilled.
Mimi breathed some words, something like Oh my God, but maybe in another language, or maybe he’d just forgotten his own tongue.
“I need to go,” he said.