Cruddy - Lynda Barry [88]
The planes came at us.
The father yelled, “INCOMING! INCOMING!” We were all flat on the ground. The stillness returned. We loaded Pammy into the backseat and the father took the wheel. He drove randomly. He laid on the horn, saying, “Somebody is bound to hear us.”
Pammy said, “Imma keel yuh yuh bassart!”
The father said, “I guess that means the wedding’s off.”
“Wha??” Pammy said. “Wewwing?”
“Take a look, baby-doll! We’re in Las Vegas!”
Pammy made many rubberized movements before she was able to lift herself up enough. What she saw made her lay back down and say, “Imma keel you dahd.”
In the distance a white cloud was rolling toward us. In the middle of the cloud was a Jeep. In the Jeep were two soldiers with helmets and two rifles.
The father glugged deep from the last bottle of Whitley’s. He said, “Shit on the Air Force.” He quick lit a cigarette. “I can handle the goddamned Air Force.”
The Jeep stopped some yards away. One of the soldiers stood up and said through a bullhorn, “THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA. YOU ARE IN A RESTRICTED AREA.”
The father cupped his hands and shouted, “NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. WHICH WAY’S VEGAS?”
The two soldiers jumped out of the Jeep with their rifles. They trotted toward us in high black boots laced tight at the ankles.
The father said, “Which one of you clowns is going to point me to Vegas?”
“You need to leave the area immediately, sir.”
“My wife is drunk out of her mind and my kid has diarrhea.”
“Sir?”
The father tapped me on the shoulder. “See there, son? That’s an Air Force man right there.” He pulled a long drag on his cig. “My boy is crazy over the Air Force. You wouldn’t consider giving him a little ride in your piece-of-shit Jeep would you? Turn a couple brodies in the sand? It would mean a hell of a lot to him. He don’t got long to live.”
“Sir, you need to leave the area immediately.”
“Can my boy have a ride?”
“I can’t do that, sir.”
“Aw shit, why not?”
Pammy said, “Hep me.”
“Shut up, honey. I’m talking.” The father made a drinking motion with his hand. “She’s topped out.”
“We’ll escort you, sir.”
“Just tell me who in the hell is going to give a shit if you give my boy a ride in your vehicle there?”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Well, you tell me, what am I busting my nuts to pay taxes for then? I paid for that Jeep.”
The two soldiers exchanged looks.
The father rubbed his face. “Shit, boys. I’m sorry. Guess I’m wound a little tight. I got the piles so bad I’m about to have a nervous breakdown.”
“Vegas is that way,” said the bullhorn soldier.
They led us to a dirt road that turned into an old severely cracked paved road and the father waved. He said, “Goddamn it was hard not to kick their asses, Clyde. Goddamn I hate the goddamn Air Force.”
Along the road there were some old signs advertising attractions in Las Vegas. Some had a few silver sequins still wiggling on the nails. The expansion of Dreamland had killed the road we were on. It wasn’t used anymore.
If you look at a map of Nevada you’ll see a place called Nellis Air Force Range just east of the Funeral mountains and Devil’s Hole. Dreamland won’t be marked. But it is there, underground, at the center of a world of tunnels as wide as highways. Tunnels and certain cave passages.
We came to a crossroads. The father said, “I know right where I am.”
In front of us was a hand-painted billboard. It said, SEE THE LAST LIVING POWDER MONKEY! HE IS FANTASTIC! SEE THE MAN WHO BUILT THE DAMN! HE DEFIES GRAVITY! HE DEFIES DEATH!! HE IS FEARLESS!! THE POWDER MONKEY INVITES ONE AND ALL TO ENTER HIS SPARKLING CIRCLE! THREE SHOWS DAILY!! THE POWDER MONKEY WILL THRILL YOU AS NEVER BEFORE!! UNFORGETTABLE!!
Underneath the sign was another sign. In faded-out cursive words it said, The powder monkey is dead.
Chapter 45
FEAR THE Sultan of all Ass-heads has already betrayed us.” said the Turtle. “I fear the arrival of the authorities. He frolics with the Violent One. We cannot save her from his power. We must depart at once. Yes. Absolutely. North to Canada. North to the sweet homeland.”
“My dear, dear Turtle,” said the Great