47.
The water bottle was empty by the time we pulled into the parking lot. I was nauseous. Bev took corners like a fucking stunt driver and when the car had finally stopped and she killed the engine my stomach kept rolling around in me and I just needed a moment.
"You have a lighter?" she asked.
"Yeah. Why?" I stayed in my seat with my knees pulled up and my feet against the dash. I was staring at the side-view mirror trying to focus on my face and couldn't.
"I'm going to smoke a bowl. I need to come down a little. I'm... too much."
"It's in my pocket."
"What's wrong with you?"
"Fucking gin and corners." I fought back the nausea a little. "I need tacos."
"Oh. Shit. Yeah, we can do that. Let me smoke first." She reached into my pockets and dug out my lighter, kissed me on the cheek. "You'll be all right beautiful," she said and fished around in her purse, packed a bowl, leaned back, and over the next ten minutes smoked it.
By the time she was done my stomach was beginning to relax.
"Tacos now?" she asked.
"Let's get the canvas' while we're here. Then maybe after."
"All right." She climbed out of the car and I was slower to move. She opened my door, took my hand and I stood. My legs did their best but my shoulders were pulled to the ground on either side.
"Fuck," I said.
"Stay up. Come on, lean on me if you want."
I took her hand, not entirely to hold her hand but not entirely out of necessity either. She was keeping me upright.
Into the store.
Fluorescent lights ate into my skin and I kept my sunglasses on and pulled my hood over my head. Bev weaved through the aisles and the people and all of the shelves were blurs to me and faces stretched and blended and disappeared and I held tight to Bev's hand as she pulled me further and further into the store and further and further from the car where I could lay back and sleep. She stopped and I came close to her and rested my head on her shoulder.
"You all right, beautiful?" she asked.
"Fine. Yes."
"Okay." she kissed my hood and I closed my eyes behind my glasses and thought I could just nod out for a second and maybe I drank too much and maybe I should just sit down. Or lay down. It didn't sound like anyone was around and I could probably just lay on the floor for a second. Get my bearings. Let my stomach settle.
"Should we get big ones?"
"Big what?" I asked, quietly if at all.
"I think big ones would be nice. Big sprawling paintings and we could put them on the walls and cover that horrible fucking wallpaper. We could do it together. Cover ourselves in paint and just roll on them and see what happens."
"Uh huh."
"That's the plan then. Big canvas', go home, get naked. Paint. Yeah?"
"Uh huh."
"Perfect. Can you carry one?"
"MmIdknow. Yeah."
"Okay. Here." She stuffed something into my hand and I knew it was a canvas and it was heavy and wide and I opened my eyes and it was huge and she had one also. "Let's go."
She pulled me through the store and my canvas kept banging into things and I would stumble and she would pull me and keep me close. "Hang in there, Beautiful. We're almost out. Almost tacos."
"Almost tacos," I said.
At the register I leaned against the counter and Bev woke me up and she pulled me through the parking lot and I fell into the car.
48.
"Hey," Bev said. "James. You in there?"
I opened my eyes. It was raining a little and I was in the car still and we were in the parking lot of Mexican restaurant that was only a few notches above Taco Bell.
"There you are. Still want tacos?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Let's go then. Come on."
I felt puke was less imminent but as I tried to open the door and climb out my hand kept slipping and I thought that was what happened when you first wake up. I fell out of the car and into the parking lot and Bev came around and lifted me up.
"Walk idiot."
"Yeah, yeah. I just woke up."
We shuffled inside and there was no one in line. Music was loud and I knew the song but couldn't place it. The restaurant was dim and Bev ordered tacos for me and she got a large burrito of some sort with a lot of shit added and a lot of shit replaced and I thought that maybe it wasn't a burrito anymore.
At the register the girl asked "Would you like a beverage?"
"Beer," I said.
"Beer?" Bev asked.
"Yeah, Two beers."
"What kind?" the girl asked. "We have..."
"No. The cheapest. Three of them. I don't give a shit."
Bev squeezed my hand. "James."
"Sorry," I said. "Three cheap beers."
"And for you?" the girl asked Bev.
"Same."
"Okay. All together?"
"Yeah," I said.
She gave us the total and Bev swiped my card and we took our food and six beers to a table in a dimmer corner and I layed against the wall.
"Eat," Bev said. "You'll feel better."
I unscrewed the cap off the first beer. "I feel fine." I took a large swallow and sat up and began in on the tacos.
After the second, I could feel the beer waking me up. The gin had fucked me, but running out of gin had put me to sleep. I finished my tacos. I finished the beer. Bev was slower and I watched her eat and drink and we talked about the canvas and maybe recording some songs into the tape deck and she asked how the writing was going and when we left I didn't need help walking but I held her hand and she put her head on my shoulder then.
"Let's go home," she said.
"Okay."
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