Pigs in Heaven
Page 55

 Barbara Kingsolver

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“I think we’re ready to order now,” Taylor says.
“Okay.”
“A glass of milk, two Cokes, three grilled cheeses.”
The waitress doesn’t write anything.
Taylor asks, “You have that Oprah Winfrey show on tape?
That’s amazing.”
“I have probably the largest personal collection of Barbie-related items in the entire world. There’s this Barbie Hall of Fame Museum down in Palo Alto, California, right? And I’ve been there ten times so I know everything they have, all the original ones that cost, like, one thousand dollars to buy, in the original box. I don’t have those. But I’ve got video-tapes and stuff they don’t have in Palo Alto. I’m like, why not? You know? Didn’t they even think of it? I have auto-graphs, even. That kid that hit the dog with the Dream Convertible and saved a young girl’s life, is she a friend of yours?”
“No,” Taylor says.
“After I saw that show I got the idea of an ensemble called the Barbie Rescue Team, with an ambulance, where she’s dressed up as a paramedic, you know? A little white skirt with a tiny slit, and an emergency bag with those blood-pressure things? It could come with a teeny bulldog to inflict the wounds. I wrote Mattel about it, I’m like, ‘Guys, this would be so cute,’ but I haven’t seen them come out with it yet.”
Taylor and Alice look at each other. Turtle rubs her nose.
The waitress blinks, exactly twice. “So a milk, two Cokes, three grilled cheese, anything else?”
“No, I changed my order,” says Alice. “I want the turkey open-face special. I’ve gotten hungrier while we were setting here waiting to order.”
“Sorry!” the waitress says, and heads for the kitchen fast on her red wedgie heels.
“Well, shut my mouth,” Alice says. “I had no idea I belonged to such a world-famous family.”
“Mama, that’s not normal. Nobody ever recognizes us from that show. Do they, Turtle?”
Turtle shakes her head.
“The waiters here are just weird. The one this morning was a comedian; he kept telling us knock-knock jokes about the Manson family.”
“Well,” Alice says, “why else would somebody live here?
They’re looking for a career as nightclub acts, and hashing tables till they get the big break.”
“Yeah, but this one takes the prize. She’s accepted Barbie as her personal savior.”
Alice spits out her ice water on her lap, and Taylor feels like something special again. She still can make Alice laugh.
13
THE CHURCH OF RISK AND HOPE
CHECKOUT TIME AT THE DELTA Queen Casino is eleven o’clock; at 11:17, Alice is having a difference of opinion with the manager. “All we want is to grab a bite of lunch and we’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy,” she explains. Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer, pictured from some old movie, grin from the wall behind the desk.
The manager has fat, pale hands decorated with long black hairs, and a gold watch that looks painful on his wrist.
“You’re welcome to stay in your room another hour, ladies, but I’m going to have to charge you the full day’s rate.”
“For seventeen minutes. Because people are banging down your door to get in here and you’re turning them away,” Alice says, staring him down. The place looks deserted, maybe even shut down on account of hygienic difficulties.
The brown edges of coffee stains on the manager’s desk blotter remind Alice of a map of the world that Columbus might have used. The front door has cardboard taped where some panes of glass should be, causing the sign to read oddly: “A QUEEN SINO HOTEL.” The casino shows no sign of life at this hour. Apparently the Las Vegas lifestyle involves gambling till dawn, then remaining passed out through the heat of the day. Only a few lone hangers-on sit stubbornly at their video poker machines.
“Okay,” Alice declares, looking him in the eye, “we’re gone.
Our room’s empty. We left the key up there in the ashtray and walked out at ten fifty-nine.” She crosses her arms, daring him to jog upstairs and see if she’s telling the truth. His craggy eyebrows are collecting sweat under her gaze. He belongs to that species of men who are so spherical in the trunk you have to wonder what holds their pants up. There’s no chance in this world Alice is going to lose her gamble.
After they pay, Taylor can run up, pack their things, and come down by the fire exit.
“I’ll meet you at the pancake house across the street,” Alice whispers to Taylor as she takes Turtle and heads for the front door. Taylor reads her mind perfectly. They are Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.