Beyond the Station Lies the Sea Page 3

  “Well now, what would you like to sell me? If I read you right, Cosmos, you’ve come up with something.”

  “What’re you paying, then?” asks Cosmos.

  “Enough to get you to the sea!” says the Queen.

  “Eight hundred,” says Cosmos. “At least eight hundred, or it’s no deal!”

  That’s a lot of money, Niner thinks. I’ve never seen so much money in my life.

  “Perhaps you might explain what I’m paying for first!”

  “Okay,” says Cosmos, “see, it’s like this: We’ve thought things over and we think you’re a very special person, if you get my drift. And so we think, you know, a person like you deserves something real special. . . .”

  “What he means is: you probably wouldn’t want to buy his red baseball cap,” says Niner.

  The Queen stifles a laugh. She tries to keep a straight face and look serious.

  “Yeah,” Cosmos goes on, “so we’re thinking, what’s really right for a person such as yourself is something more unusual. Something really valuable. One of a kind.”

  He talks like a car salesman, thinks the Queen, and he does it quite well at that. I should have known he had it in him.

  “And since, as you know, we’re not exactly flush . . . we were thinking, the most valuable and unique thing we can offer you . . .”

  “. . . would be my guardian angel,” Niner spits out.

  “The angel’s good, madam,” Cosmos says. “Almost new, barely used, works like a charm. You won’t find an angel like that every day. Right, Niner?”

  Niner nods. But the more Cosmos talks, the more Niner realizes that he doesn’t actually want to sell his angel.

  “I’m impressed,” says the Queen of Caracas, “deeply impressed! I’ve never had a proposition like this before. So you want to sell me a guardian angel. But a guardian angel is something very personal. . . .”

  She looks at Niner thoughtfully.

  “Are you sure you are willing to part with your guardian angel? Are you sure you don’t need him?”

  Niner bites his lower lip.

  “Cosmos told me that once we’re by the sea, everything’ll be fine. Nothing bad happens there. He said that anyone who lives by the sea definitely doesn’t need a guardian angel.”

  “Madam, I don’t even have a guardian angel, and I get by just fine,” Cosmos adds quickly. “And besides, Niner’s not alone. He’s got me, after all!”

  The Queen of Caracas scrutinizes Cosmos for a moment.

  “Very well then,” she says. “Very well. But you must swear not to leave the boy alone. You will stay with him and look after him. Agreed?”

  “I swear,” Cosmos says solemnly. “I swear by everything I hold dear!”

  Then the Queen of Caracas opens her purse. She pulls out a bundle of bills. A thick bundle.

  Niner has never seen so much money.

  “You’ll sell, then?” she asks.

  “Eight hundred,” says Cosmos. “Eight hundred or no deal.”

  “Yes,” nods Niner, “I’ll sell.”

  The Queen sighs.

  “A guardian angel is something very special. You shouldn’t give it up cheaply, Niner. That’s why I’m going to give you a little more. I’ll give you a thousand.”

  Cosmos looks taken aback. He’s about to say something, but the Queen gestures for him to keep silent.

  “Not a penny more,” she says sternly. “But the money belongs to the boy, Cosmos. Understood?”

  Niner looks at Cosmos.

  “Understood,” Cosmos says with a nod.

  The Queen extends her hand to Niner, and at last they shake on it.

  “It’s a deal,” says the Queen.

  “But in small bills. And with a receipt,” says Cosmos.

  “Naturally, sir. Just as you wish,” the Queen of Caracas answers, and at that point she can no longer keep from laughing, for this Cosmos with his little red cap is really quite a character.

  NEITHER ONE OF THEM has ever run so fast in their lives. They sprint down the street. As far away as they can.

  After all, the Queen of Caracas could still change her mind. She could sneak up behind them, put a hand on Niner’s shoulder, laugh, and say, “Well, you two, you’ve passed the test of clever deal-making. Now quick, hand the cash back over.”

  “Man!” Cosmos pants when they finally stop. “That’s a lot of dough! We could get to the sea three times over on that! So much cash, and all for your guardian angel. Unbelievable.”

  Niner says nothing, but he doesn’t look very happy. His knees are shaking, he’s gone completely pale, and the sweat on his brow is hot from running.

  They’re on the bridge over the highway, and the garbage dump feels very far away. That’s what comes of taking to your heels. That’s what comes of being in such a hurry. They’ve already traveled a very long way.

  And I haven’t even got my guardian angel, Niner thinks, and then his knees shake all the more.

  “SPARE THE ROD AND spoil the child,” is how the new guy always put it. “A firm hand never did anyone no harm. You’re much too soft on the boy. Just leave him to me.”

  Still, Mama would come to Niner’s room at night to sit on the edge of his bed and sing him the song about guardian angels. “When I go to sleep at night, fourteen angels hold me tight. . . .” Mama always sang very softly, so the new guy wouldn’t hear.

  But one night he did hear. He came into Niner’s room and pushed Mama off the bed. Then he hit her and bellowed, “How dare you coddle the bastard behind my back again!”

  And Mama put her hands up in front of her face, then ran crying from the room, with the new guy trailing after her.

  “WHAT’S THE MATTER, BUD? Ain’t you excited at all?”

  Cosmos holds the bundle of bills in front of his face and waves it about.

  “It’s all yours, man! Cheer up and say something already.”

  “Dunno,” says Niner. “All I know is that I no longer have my guardian angel!”

  “Man, that’s not the point.”

  “Is too! That’s exactly the point!” Niner screams. “If I don’t have my guardian angel, I’m done for, you get it? When I fall out the window there’s not going to be a bush underneath. There’s just gonna be cement, you get it?”

  “No, I don’t get it. That’s nonsense.”

  “Oh yeah? Nonsense, is it? And what about that time with your dogs?”

  “That was hypnosis. It wasn’t a guardian angel that kept those dogs back!”

  “But they could’ve torn you to pieces, right? You could’ve died, too. Your stupid hypnosis could’ve failed, couldn’t it?”

  “But it didn’t! What are you tryin’ to prove with that?”

  “That you do too have a guardian angel! Even if you say you don’t.”

  “You’re crazy,” says Cosmos.

  Below them, trucks rumble past on the highway.

  They’re going to the sea, thinks Cosmos, and watches the red taillights fade into the distance. And while he’s watching Niner suddenly turns, quick as lightning, and climbs up onto the railing.

  “Hey, man, what’re you doing?” yells Cosmos.

  “I wanna try something,” says Niner.

  “Come on down from there, that’s dangerous!”

  “I’m gonna do a balancing act.”

  “You’ll break your neck,” pleads Cosmos.

  But Niner has already spread his arms out. He stands there in the middle of the night on the railing, swaying back and forth, with the trucks beneath him rumbling toward the sea.

  Cosmos is terrified. He wishes he could just run away, but he can’t do that. After all, he promised the Queen.

  “Come on, man,” he pleads, “come down from there, please. . . .”

  His head is roaring, like a drumroll in a circus.

  Then Niner cocks his head a little, as if he hears the drumroll, too. He’s “Niner, the world-famous tightrope walker,” the only one ever to cross over the Hudson River withou
t a safety net.

  And then suddenly he’s off.

  Very carefully, very slowly, with his arms extended, he puts one foot in front of the other.

  “Man, Niner, just think of the sea. We gotta get there together! What’m I supposed to do there by myself? What’m I supposed to do if you fall off?”

  “If I don’t make it now, I’ll never get to the sea anyway. It doesn’t matter if I’m with you or without you,” Niner calls out, swinging one foot in front of the other again.

  He is a rope dancer, a bridge balancer, a boy balancing in the wind. Far, far above the highway.

  Now he’s reached the middle. Here, the bridge is at its highest point. Niner wobbles a little. He braces himself against the wind.

  Cosmos holds his breath.

  He’s going to fall, thinks Cosmos. He’s going to fall for sure. There’s no way.

  But Niner keeps going, very slowly, step by step by step.

  Now he has three quarters of the bridge span behind him and he hasn’t stumbled yet. Cosmos walks along beside and below him.

  If he falls now, maybe I can catch him, thinks Cosmos. And then, just as he is thinking of it, Niner slips.

  Niner begins to fall, his arms flapping like a crow.

  Cosmos reaches out to catch him.

  The whole thing happens in an instant.

  Then the two of them are on the ground. Niner on top, Cosmos under him. Cosmos is briefly conscious of a sharp pain shooting through his foot, and he feels his head slam hard against the curb. Then he feels nothing.

  The night quickly grows blacker. Everything is dark now, and Cosmos feels himself drifting away.

  “Open your eyes, Cosmos! C’mon now, open your eyes!”

  Cosmos hears Niner’s voice from very far away. And he feels someone slapping his face lightly. The night gradually becomes lighter again.

  “Quit hitting me, you idiot!” Cosmos sits up and tries to move. He turns his head. Then he extends his arms and tries to wiggle his toes.

  “Oh crap, my foot,” says Cosmos, grimacing. “I think I hurt my foot.”

  Niner looks as if he’s about to burst into tears any second now.

  “Don’t you dare cry,” says Cosmos, “don’t you dare cry!”

  Niner swallows hard.

  “Let’s see here,” Niner reaches out and feels Cosmos’s ankle.

  “Quit it,” says Cosmos. “Help me up instead!”

  It takes a while, but after a struggle, Cosmos is upright again.

  “Is it broken?” asks Niner.

  “Nah, sprained at most. But now I’ve gotta limp because of you, you idiot!”

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” pleads Niner. “Believe me, I really didn’t mean it!”

  “Well, what did you mean, then, you fool? Why’ja climb up there?”

  “I . . . I . . . just wanted to try something out,” Niner stammers. “’Cause of the guardian angel, you know, ’cause . . . if I ain’t got one no more then I’ll never make it to the sea, even with the money.”

  “You’re crazy! You’ve lost your marbles!”

  “But I fell off, and that means . . .”

  “That don’t mean nothin’. At most, it means you’re crazy. No one would have made it all the way across, with or without an angel. No one! Especially not with that wind!”

  “But . . .”

  “But what? Didn’t I catch you? Didn’t I almost break my foot doing it? Don’t ever do that again. You could have killed yourself. Now come on already. I’m tired.”

  Cosmos is really angry, and with each step he takes, he grows angrier. He leans on Niner, and his ankle hurts so much that he wants to scream. But he doesn’t scream. Instead, he curses. He leans on Niner and curses colorfully under his breath. It is left to Niner to bear the weight of it all, and the two plastic bags besides.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I really could have killed myself,” Niner whispers after a while. “And I’ll never do it again, for sure. But could you please stop cursing me out?”

  By the time they reach the condemned house, dawn is breaking. The light creeps slowly across the sky and pales the moon. Far away, the Fisher and Frost horn blows, and Niner yearns for Mama, yearns for her smell, yearns for her voice, yearns for her so much that tears stream down his cheeks.

  But he won’t let Cosmos see that he’s crying. He turns his head away, crawls under the blanket, and sobs into the pillow until he falls asleep.

  Cosmos turns toward the wall and thinks: Now he’s crying on top of everything, the baby. I’m just going to pretend not to notice. He really is crazy. He’s becoming a ball and chain. I knew it. I’ll never get to the sea with him. Hopefully, my foot won’t hurt so much in the morning.

  And then Cosmos falls asleep too.

  WHILE COSMOS AND NINER sleep, dreaming of the sea, and the gulls, and the long journey that will finally start tomorrow, the slot machine in the Caracas keeps ringing and spinning, one combination after another.

  The Queen sits on her bar stool and watches over the men, so they don’t start arguing and fighting and beating each other up.

  While she watches over them, she thinks about the little boy who calls himself Niner, and about his guardian angel, which now belongs to her. And the thought makes her very uneasy.

  “I hope you haven’t made a mistake there, Queen,” the waiter remarks, wiping his hands on his grease-stained jacket.

  And the Queen counters, “Joseph, must you wear the entire menu on your coat all the time?”

  “No offense, Queen, no offense,” murmurs Joseph. “We’re not getting any younger, of course, but that thing with the guardian angel wasn’t right. The wee lad needs him, you know, he might not make it without him!”

  She knows that Joseph the waiter is right, somehow. And who would know that better than she?

  But what are you supposed to do? thinks the Queen. What are you supposed to do when someone’s standing there offering you the only thing he owns in exchange for his dream?

  After all, she had been in the same position herself one day back when she was seventeen. Ran away from home. Away from that stinking cow town, where you couldn’t do anything other than dream. Dream of the wide beyond.

  She had stood there herself much like Cosmos and Niner, in the big gray city, with nothing to her name but the gold chain around her neck and her dream of a better life, a house by the sea. But how do you get there, when you don’t even know where you’ll be sleeping that night?

  She would have sold her guardian angel on the spot, but no one was interested in that.

  And so she was forced to earn her money by other means. She sold herself on the street for the sake of her dream. For a better life and a house on the shore. In the big gray city, the girl from the farm turned into the Queen of Caracas. And many men paid a great deal of money along the way.

  As the Queen thinks of all this now, she sits there with a faraway look in her eyes. Joseph sees it and puts a shot of brandy in front of her. Joseph has learned that when she sits there looking like that, brandy’s the only thing that helps.

  The Queen throws the shot back in one gulp. She looks at the men and the slot machine, and thinks of the time when she had finally raised enough money to buy the bar. Then, finally, she no longer had to share her bed every night with any old stranger. No, I really haven’t given up a thing, thinks the Queen. Dreams really are more important than angels. In fact, dreams are sometimes even more important than bread. I don’t entirely like the looks of that Cosmos. But the little one, Niner, he might just make it.

  A slight smile plays over her face. And as Joseph comes by again with the bottle, looking to refill her glass, she grabs him.

  “You know, Joseph,” she says, her voice as firm as ever, “it is what it is. I had to learn. You had to learn. Everyone has to learn. And now Cosmos will have to play the guardian angel for a while. The role is as big as his name, and I actually think he’s up to it. Everyone pays in the end, you know. Only death is fr
ee, and miracles are rare.”

  Then she laughs, and lets Joseph go. He walks off, shaking his head.

  In a little while, when the last customers are gone, she will drive home to her house on the river and take a hot bath.

  That will do me some good, thinks the Queen. And if I ever see that little boy again, he’ll have his guardian angel back, or my name’s not the Queen of Caracas!

  THERE’S NO WAY I’M ever going to make it to the sea, thinks Cosmos.

  The pigeons cooing in the attic have him up far too early. He sits on the torn mattress and counts the angel money over and over.

  Niner is still sleeping soundly.

  A whole thousand! Unbelievable! That’s enough for a hundred seas. Enough to feed all the hungry gulls besides. And for a stand on the beach:COSMOS’S COLD DRINKS:

  EXTRA FRESH AND EXTRA COLD!

  Niner moans softly in his sleep.

  But with this one here, I won’t even make it as far as the train station, thinks Cosmos. Niner is a ball and chain. A tightrope walker. Pure bad luck. I’ll be doing nothing but saving him all the time. For ever and ever. And if it weren’t for me . . . he never would’ve got so much money anyway. It was my idea, after all. Actually, it’s my money, too. Didn’t I drive a hard bargain and earn it fair and square?

  Niner is still sleeping.

  Then Cosmos gets up. His foot still hurts. He shoves the bundle of cash under his shirt.

  As the pigeons coo loudly, he slips quietly out of the room, walks carefully down the ramshackle stairs, holding his breath and pausing when one of the steps creaks, until finally he stands outside in the early sunshine, under a clear blue sky.

  And then Cosmos runs.

  AT LAST, NINER WAKES up. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, and the first thing he thinks is:

  We’re off today! Today we set out at last on our big trip. To the sea! To the sea!

  “Hey Cosmos,” says Niner. “Are you up yet?”

  But no one answers.

  No one is there.

  At first, Niner doesn’t understand.

  “Hey Cosmos, come on out. Quit goofing around.”