The Underside of Joy

And that crazy impulse had led me to Elbow, to Joe, to Annie and Zach. Just as I’d hoped my crazy impulse to go to Las Vegas would somehow lead me to Annie and Zach once again.

Chapter Thirty-two
    I drove through dark desert and lonely straight roads, my eyes often drawn towards the brilliantly lit night sky; falling stars streaked across it, like the thoughts of Joe and the kids and the Capozzis and Paige that kept streaking across my mind.
    David called me on my cell. ‘Where are you?’
    ‘Somewhere between a prickly pear cactus and a Joshua tree. With way too much time before the next cactus. So keep me awake. Tell me about Max.’
    I could hear pans banging in the sink. ‘I’d forgotten that whole thing until today. Joe loved that dog. Poor Joe . . . He and Max were walking on Jasper Williams’ property. Jasper was the town asshole extraordinaire.’
    ‘Do I know this guy?’
    ‘Oh, he died years ago. Everyone avoided him. He was some retired military dude. But Joe was maybe eleven, had just got his first camera, and Jasper had the best view of the river. He yelled at Joe for trespassing. Everyone trespassed in Elbow. It was synonymous with being neighbourly. Apparently, Williams had lost some chickens and he blamed Max, which was ridiculous because Max wouldn’t hurt a flea. He yelled, “I told you all to stay away, you goddamn trespassing Wop. Should have locked you Kraut-lovin’ Japs and Wops up forever!” and then he shot Max dead. What a fucking idiot. Joe wanted to call the police, but Grandpa Sergio and Dad said no.’ David let out a long whistle and fell silent.
    ‘David?’
    ‘Oh my God. Now I get it. They said he was trespassing and they didn’t want trouble and they didn’t want to hurt the family name.’
    ‘The only family name it would have hurt was Jasper whatever-his-face’s.’
    ‘Absolutely. Joe cried for a week solid I remember, even at Little League practice. At dinner one night my dad told him to quit being a sissy. Joe got up from the table and left, and I waited for all hell to break loose. But my dad sat chewing his food, looking across the table at Grandpa Sergio. My mother sat looking at her hands. And no one ever said another word about it.’
    I could see them sitting around a table piled with comfort food, a vacant chair taking up the whole room, as all the unspoken secrets and anger and fears and humiliation passed back and forth between them. Mangia, mangia! Have another helping of silence.
    As we approached Las Vegas, Callie woke and barked at all the lights upon lights upon lights – even though they were still far ahead. Soon they were like firework displays exploding too close; their heat on my face, flashing, running, strobing.
    But those lights lost their bravado the next morning, when I got a clearer look at the Strip and realized they were mere compensation, meant to blind me to the fact there wasn’t an ounce of natural beauty, or natural anything, anywhere. The only snippet of green lay in a row of planted palm trees in the centre of the strip. At a stoplight, I caught an older man and a much younger woman snorting cocaine in a black convertible. She took the rolled bill and mirror from him and went at it while he held back her long black hair. Is this what Annie and Zach saw on their way to school? How could Paige have moved herself, let alone the kids, from Elbow – with its lush, tree-crammed hills running all the way into the river, to this ? I could not even begin to picture Annie and Zach being there, let alone calling it home.
    But, I reminded myself, Elbow wasn’t Utopia for everyone. The rainy winters had gotten to Paige and deepened her depression, she’d written. She wanted to be warm and dry. But the biggest reason, I knew from reading the other letters, was that she had nowhere else to go but to Aunt Bernie, who lived in a trailer on the outskirts, and who loved her. Loved all of her, Paige had written. I thought of this as I pulled onto the freeway, not really sure where to go or if I should call her. A billboard stood out against the legions of other billboards. Was it? It couldn’t be. I leaned forward over the steering wheel and peered. Yes, by God, it was. There stood Paige, ten feet tall, in a power suit, with her arms folded, her tight white smile now the size of a turkey platter. when it’s time to stage, call paige. The same goofy slogan that was on her business card, the same phone number I’d been calling all