Freezer Burn

Thirty

Frost canceled the carnival that weekend and got permission to stay in that spot until he could take care of Conrad and have a time of mourning for himself and the carnival members. Most of them thought they ought to take the day Conrad went into the hole off and get back to work the next. They liked Conrad, some even loved him, but a buck was a buck, and you had to eat, one dead Wonder Dog or no. But it was, as usual, Frost’s way or the highway.

It turned out things didn’t go so slick for Frost. In town the body was held and it was insisted that next of kin be searched for. No one wanted to take Frost’s word on the matter. Things like that had happened before, only to result in dire consequences for town officials. They put the dog on ice and Frost and the authorities started a search.

It turned out Frost was wrong. There was a cousin in Idaho. She was found easy. She wanted the body but was too much of an invalid to come down and get it. She asked if Conrad could be stuffed and a name plaque attached so he could be made into some kind of exhibit, and would this be easier for mailing? Frost lied and told her the body was too much of a wreck. She asked Frost to bring the corpse and, being Frost, he agreed. He wanted to be there to make sure Conrad went into the ground, not next to a door and an umbrella rack. He made arrangements to have Conrad embalmed and placed in a coffin from the animal cemetery, because those were the only coffins small enough to properly accommodate him and not have him rattle around in there during transit like a BB in a boxcar. It took two days for the embalming and fitting in the coffin, the one commonly used for collies and German shepherds. Frost had to go back the next day and load the coffin in the back of the station wagon and drive back to the carnival.

He came to Bill and told him about the cousin.

“I’m going to be gone for a while. I have to go to Idaho. It’ll take me a week to get there, do the funeral, help out, and come back. You and Gidget are in charge.”

“I don’t know nothin’ about being in charge.”

“Others do, but they don’t want it. Gidget’s the one, but she’ll need help. Little things. She’ll tell you what to do.”

“I could drive Conrad to his cousin’s in Idaho.”

“I have to do this, and for my sake, and Conrad’s sake, I need you to help Gidget. Will you do it?”

Bill and Frost were standing outside the Ice Man’s trailer. Bill walked over to the station wagon and looked in the back at the small blue coffin sitting on the old creased upholstery. Goodbye, my friend. Peace to you. And I’m sorry. But I can see that ditch coming and I don’t even know how to steer.

Frost left that afternoon and that night, late, Gidget came to the Ice Man’s trailer and scratched like a cat on the door.

“I know it’s you,” Bill said, then considered it might in fact be Pete come for his blow job.

“Let me in?”

“No. You go on.”

“He’s gone, Bill. We can be together.”

“I killed my friend on account of you.”

“It was on account of an accident.”

“Wouldn’t have been no accident without you and me.”

“That’s just it, Bill. It was you and me. Not me.”

“No more, Gidget. Just leave me be.”

“You want me, Bill. I know it. You know it.”

Bill could see that ditch looming large.

“You let me in, let me take care of you the way only I can. You hear me, Bill?”

“I hear you.”

“You let me in, honey, and I’ll give you a taste like you haven’t ever had.”

“No.”

“You’re thinking about it-”

“No.”

“ – aren’t you, Bill? You know what I can do-”

“Go!”

“ – for you. It’s not just what I can do, it’s what you want. There’s no use pretending you’re worth something, Bill. You aren’t. You’re just like me, rotten to the core. You’re tryin’ to wear some kind of halo, like Frost wants you to. But that isn’t you. You got any halo on, it’s made of aluminum foil and a coat hanger, baby. You’re who you are. You and me, we got rotten souls, and that’s all there is to it. And there isn’t anyone can make you and me happy, but you and me. Together.”

“Please, Gidget.”

“Bill. This is the last time I ask. I’m not one has to ask much, you know that. There are plenty out there ready and willing. Open the door.”

When Bill opened the door Gidget leaped in, swung her fist and hit him over the ear and knocked him down and tried to kick him in the balls. He rolled and she caught his side with another kick. He got up and she kicked at him again, and he grabbed her foot and pulled her to the floor and jumped astride her and slapped her across the face, back and forth, back and forth, and she said, “Yeah, baby, yeah, do it,” and he hit her again, and this time it wasn’t anger, it was pleasure, and she shared the pleasure. She used both hands to grab the sides of her white blouse and rip it open, loosing bra-less titties on the world. Bill jammed his fingers in her worn-out blue jean shorts and tugged with all his might, ripping, exposing one beautiful thigh, then he ripped again, showing the rest of her. She scratched at him and ripped through his T-shirt and tore his flesh and he bled and she ran her hands over his chest, smearing the blood, poking the red fingers in her mouth to suck. He slapped her and she groaned. He tugged at his belt and she swatted his groin. He unfastened his pants, pushed them down, got on top of her. She tried to pull her thighs together. He bit her nipple and she spread her legs with a little squeak. She was hot and wet and sticky. He went into her and she said, “Have you now, you sonofabitch!”

And have him she did. Up one side and down the other. When it was over they lay together, she in the crook of his arm and he breathing heavy, feeling satiated.

“It didn’t work out,” she said. “It happens.”

“It was terrible.”

“I know. You lost a friend. We got the wrong one. We tried too hard. We got to know he’s the one to get it, not hope he’s the one.”

“You won’t give it up, will you?”

“It’s bottom line, Billy. You either want me or you want Frost. Look here. We do this, we got the exhibit. You like the exhibit, don’t you?”

“Sure. I like Frost too.”

“Which do you like better?”

“Why have I got to choose?”

“You keep Frost, he’s got the exhibit. Not us. Not you. You could be the man. You’re dark at the middle, baby, but you do this, we get the thing, the dingus, then you and me, we’re it, and you’re the man. You’re the driving force. Bad stuff is over. For good. I promise. This is for us. It’s the best and easiest way to jump ahead in life. It’s our jump, baby.”

“He told me it’s really the body of Christ.”

“He tells people whatever they want to think about that thing, baby. He thinks he’s some kind of do-gooder. He thinks he can rouse something good in you, and he’ll do it with talk or he’ll do it with that dead body. He’s telling you it’s Christ. Some other person he might tell it’s the body of some rock singer. He feels you out, then tells you what he thinks will work. I’ll tell you what I think it is. Something made of rubber.”

“Well, I guess he didn’t really say it was Christ. He said that was the true story he had gotten.”

“He’s got lots of true stories. I tell you it’s just something rubber is all. He makes himself important with that thing.”

“Hell, that’s what I want. To be important.”

“And you can have it. Listen, honey. Even if that was Jesus and he was here to help you personal, wouldn’t work. You’re rotten, just like I been sayin’, but you want to pretend you aren’t. You want to think maybe you can get religion or something to make you better, but once an apple is rotten, hon, it stays rotten. My advice is learn to be rotten and like it. There ain’t nothing in that freezer’s gonna change who you are, who anyone is.”

They lay silent for a while. Eventually Bill spoke. “We did this. .. I don’t want to start something. You know, a trend… Just this one time.”

“What’s that?”

“Something like this. Rotten or not. Just this one time. Right? I mean, there ain’t no one else we want killed, is there?”

“When it’s done, we’ll just let it go. Believe me, it can be done. I just got to think about it awhile. We won’t get in a hurry.”

“Maybe if it was someone I didn’t like.”

“Listen here. He likes you, Billy. Really, he does. But he pities you. You want to be the source of pity? That’s not true respect, friendship, or love. It’s just what it is. I love you, Billy. I know how you and me are. I face the facts. But still, I love you. Do you really want me to keep lying down with a man with a hand on his chest? You really want me to give birth to a baby might have a hand on its chest, or coming out its ass or on top of its head? You really want that? You think about it. You think about how you’ve had me, baby. Ain’t no one done the things to me you’ve done, ain’t no one likes it the way we like it. I don’t want to be shared. I want you.”

“I still don’t have anything against him.”

“Who says you have to?”

Thirty-one

Gidget left him early, while it was still dark. She had gone out of there holding her shorts and shirt together with her hands, leaving him naked in bed. The bedclothes were torn, bloody in spots. He lay amongst their ruin thinking and seeing himself once again as the man on the stool, looking down on the Ice Man, giving the talk.

He had some random thoughts: Jesus. There ain’t no Jesus. And if there was, this ain’t it. He wouldn’t end up in no freezer. And if he did, and this is him, what’s that got to do with me? Frost pities me, like I’m another freak. He’s the fuckin’ freak. Telling me that bullshit about the Ice Man. Conrad, he was all right. I liked him. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did, even if I didn’t mean it. I didn’t set out to hurt Conrad. It’s not my fault. It’s me and Gidget and that’s all. Fuck Frost for telling me that story. Fuck me for ever thinking there was anything about that thing in the freezer. It ain’t nothing but an exhibit I want.

Bill showered, cleaned up the bed, and dressed. There really wasn’t anything to do that day, in spite of what Frost had said. They were locked in until word came from Frost. Gidget was supposed to keep things in order, but there was already an established order and she wasn’t part of it, and he had no need to be part of it. Not until he had the Ice Man. Then he would for the first time in his life be important. Someone to reckon with. It might not be president of the United States, but it beat living off the leavings of your mother’s checks. When she was alive to cash them anyway.

Around noon there was a knock on the trailer door and Bill answered it, hoping it was Gidget, but it wasn’t. It was a dark-haired woman in blue jeans and a loose shirt. She was an attractive, somewhat large woman. She had a plastic trash bag in her hand.

“Conrad would have wanted you to have these,” she said.

“U.S. Grant?”

“Formerly. I’ve lost the beard. I’m through with carnival life. I’m bringing all of Conrad’s goods to you. This bag, that’s the whole of it. Mostly cowboy books. He loved to read cowboy books.”

“Where will you go?”

“Anywhere. I’m driving my rig out of here within the hour. I’m through. No beard. No work.”

“It’ll grow back.”

“For now I’ll shave it. Soon I’ll get something done to it. I’ll find work somewhere, even if it’s banging oil field workers. I’ve had it up to here with this shit. I was thinking of leaving anyway. Now I’ve got nothing to keep me here. The whole thing’s falling apart. Frost, he’s losing control and I think it’s that blond bitch’s fault.”

Bill took the bag.

“Well, good luck, Bill.”

Synora, U.S. Grant, drove her cab and trailer out of there a half hour later and Bill never saw her again.