“The disease is in your head,” Lila said.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, what you think about yourself, about the world, is not the way the world is. It’s not the way you really are.” Lila looked into the trees as sun slanted through and lit the sparkling snow with a crystalline flash. “It’s a trap,” she said.
“I feel the trap. But what does thought have to do with it?” JJ watched the sun go in as suddenly as it appeared and the snow was frozen and drab under brooding trees. “This new age shit is not for me.”
“Well, what is for you?”
“Everybody’s walking around talking about being present, being in the now.” JJ kicked at some frozen snow sending a fist-sized chunk skittering into the trees. The snow had melted and refrozen several times and was crunchy and abrasive. JJ thought it was like walking on Pluto. Except for the sun. And atmosphere
“What’s wrong with that? The norm is that we all walk around wishing that things were different, that we had more of this or that, money or power or kids. We wish things hadn’t happened or wish different things happened.”
“I coulda been a contender!” JJ yelled into the trees.
“Exactly.”
They walked up the broad path that used to be a road until it was too expensive to maintain. JJ thought that was an improvement. Let nature take it back from the cars. “Hey, here’s a question,” he said. The sun was peeking through again. “What are you thoughts on the Yeti?”
“Again with the Yeti,” Lila said. “JJ, there are no Yetis in Massachusetts.”
“Sasquatch, Big Foot, Yeti. Different names for different places. What would a mysterious manlike giant living in the wilderness of New England be called?”
Lila thought and said, “A Yanqi. With a q and an i because the Pocumtuck named it.”
“That’s terrible,” JJ said. He smiled then looked slowly into the trees on both sides. “But you oughta get present to the fact that the Yanqis may be watching us right now.”
They crunched up the snowy path to the old parking lot that opened up to the winter sky and looked out over the interstate, the river, and a grid of frozen white farm fields sectioned by dark rows of trees.
JJ in the 21st Century
Game Day Decisions
“Google or Apple?” JJ was staring at his laptop screen. “It’s like you have to bow at one altar or the other.”
“What are you talking about?” Carl was on JJ’s couch in his nest of bedclothes, watching the pregame show. Two months at JJ’s and counting.
“It used to be PC or Mac. Now it’s like Apple vs. Android.”
“Dude, speak English. What does all that mean?”
“I want to get a tablet. So it’s iPads or ones that run Google Android.”
Carl looked at JJ. “Know what I’m thinkin about? Football. Brady vs. Flacco.” On tv, the pregame blather continued. Ex-players in suits were arguing about quarterbacks wearing gloves when it’s cold. Evidently, wearing gloves is a personal statement of values, perhaps signaling to the opposition that you notice the cold and are therefore less of a man. “These studio shows are the worst thing ever,” Carl said
“Why do you watch?”
“Because it’s on,” Carl reached for a cheese doodle. “Just sit the hell down and watch. It’s the NFL. It’s everything.”
“Sit on your bed? Or is that my couch?” JJ came over and eyed the wadded up blankets. “I’ll just squat over here.”
A commercial for Apple starring Venus and Serena Williams came on. They played ping pong with an unseen and dreaming narrator. Carl said, “That’s not the type of dream I would have with those two. They are large and very athletic.”
But JJ was thinking that if the Williams sisters appeared in an Apple commercial then….what?
“Dude, here’s one for you while you’re making tough choices. Ready?” Carl paused. “Clutch hall-of-famer Tom Brady, who you refer to as the pretty boy bitch quarterback of the New England Patriots. Or… Ray Lewis, the born-again, face painting, and ranting pro wrestler parading as a hall-of-fame Ravens linebacker who, by the way, was involved in a double murder. Choose!”
“Wow,” said JJ. He feigned deep thought, stroking his chin and looking toward the ceiling. “I’ll take the double murderer.”
“That’s what I thought,” Carl said. “Now you’re interested.”
JJ perched carefully at the edge Carl’s bed nest on the sofa and reached for the cheese doodles.
"Religion sucks…"
“Religion sucks,” JJ said to Lila. “Everyone’s fine until you say something slightly offensive. Then…”
“Let me guess,” Lila said as she munched a scone. “You told someone you couldn’t be friends.”
“Well, we’re just at the hockey game having a good time and the dude is trying to get my number. He wants to hang out and talk about God. Or life. Or just talk.” JJ fiddled with the greasy wrapper from his finished muffin. He mashed his finger into the wrapper and then licked off some off the crumbs stuck there.
“You said you would give this a chance.” Lila looked at her scone. “Not as many raisins as usual.”
“This was your big idea and I’m going along with it.” JJ crumpled the muffin wrapper and pushed it away. “Synagogue, fuckin pagan solstice bonfire, and this whole Christian thing.”
“Hey, it was just a suggestion.” Her eyes, usually concerned when looking at JJ, flared with exasperation. Lila burned cool until the match was struck and then she quickly burned hot. “You’ve been like this lost puppy since you came back here. Then winning the lottery. That’s the worst thing that could’ve happened.”
“You make it sound like I’m shut down, completely empty.”
“And that’s why I suggested you check out a few beliefs. Go to a few churches, try something.” Lila’s calm had returned and she was fiddling with the remaining crumbs of her scone, arranging them on the plate into a circle.
“Maybe I do need something.” JJ looked out over Lila’s head. He looked into the street where a large man in a robe was looking into the café. He looked like Obi-wan crossed with Harry Potter death eater. “Hey, maybe that guy’s got the answer.” He gestured with his chin and eyes.
Lila swung around in her seat to look at the holy man peering in to the café. His robes were brown and cinched at his waist by a black utility belt. His head was encircled by a thin strip of hair above his eyebrows, ears, and neck. The dome on top was shaved and tattooed with another face looking to the sky. The man reached into a belt pouch, pulled out an iPhone, and assumed the texting/facebook stance.
Lila turned back to the table. “No, JJ,” she said. “Hipster druids don’t have what you’re looking for.”
JJ Goes to a Hockey Game
“No offense,” said JJ. “But we’ll never be that kind of friends.”
“What do you mean,” said Ben. It was between periods at the hockey game and the Zamboni was finishing its rounds. The church group had seats behind one goal about halfway up.
“I mean you keep inviting me over. You keep inviting me out for a beer. I haven’t responded. I’m hoping you’ll stop asking but you don’t. Now you’re pressing me.”
“I just thought…”
“We have nothing in common,” JJ said.
“We have the church.”
“We don’t even have that in common,” JJ said. “I’m trying out the church. Giving it a chance. Looking for a connection to God.”
“Have you found that connection?”
“Yes but not like you. You find God in a group of people all thinking the same way. I’m just looking for a different perspective.”
“Well, isn’t a church a group of people who all believe the same way,” Ben asked.
“That’s like being a fan,” said JJ. He gestured out at the arena, the glowing white ice and the milling fans. The throbbing AC/DC and ads everywhere. JJ sighed. “Here’s why we can’t be friends. You actually care who wins or loses this game.”
“Well, we’re the home team. Everyone’s cheering for them.”
“This is minor league hockey. None of the players want to be here. The coaches don’t want to be here. You don’t live in this city. Me neither. I don’t want to live in this city.”
“No one wants to live in this city,” said Ben.
“Exactly,” said JJ. “But you’ve been cheering the whole game as if this is life or death. You actually care or who wins this game between teams of players who want to be someplace else.”
Ben was looking hard at JJ. “You think we’re all a bunch of idiots,” he said.
“No, no, that’s not it,” said JJ. “I’m just saying why we can’t be friends outside of church.”
The home team was emerging from someplace under the stands. The music rose and the crowd roared to life. Ben went to get to his feet then sat back down and leaned toward JJ.
“You must not have many friends,” Ben said. Then he stood and clapped as the players swooped and veered on the ice, warming up for the last period. JJ sat as the others stood around him clapping to the music. He felt like a little kid in a sea of adult legs, trapped and ignored.
JJ thought of the bus ride home with the church group. “That’s gonna be a long half hour,” he muttered. Then he stood with the other 4,136 hometown fans to watch the third period.
December 14, 2012
“It’s like the worst kick in the gut,” JJ said into the phone. “Everything’s gone out of me. I don’t know what to do.”
“You can pray.”
“I can’t pray.” JJ sat in the car in the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. He had been looking at the property when the news came on the radio. “I’ve been sitting here listening for two hours. I don’t know what to do.”
“Stop listening,” Lila said. “I won’t listen. I can’t watch. My imagination’s enough to get the horror. I don’t need the details.”
JJ switched off the radio. Cars swished by on the damp street along the parking lot. The view out the windshield was distorted with rain. The warehouse loomed, all brick and dark windows, many broken.
“I know what you can do,” said Lila.
“What,” said JJ and thought of the ride to the town, of joining with other people at the site, of vigils and tears.
“Call someone with kids and see how they’re doing.”
JJ felt the mix of release and fear of suddenly knowing the right answer but being daunted by what’s next.
“Call your brother, JJ,” Lila said. “Let them know you’re there.”
“Yeah,” said JJ. “Yeah, ok.”
“Call them now. Then call me back later.”
JJ heard his breathing in the quiet sealed car and cracked a window. “Thanks. You’ve always known what to do.”
“I know you. Now hang up and call them now,” Lila said and she hung up.
JJ sat for a moment. He reached to turn the radio back on but pulled his hand back. He scrolled through his phone contacts and felt the familiar mix of resistance, guilt, and love that rose when he contacted his brother.
“Hello.” A woman’s voice. Jane, his brother’s wife
“Hi, it’s JJ.”
“Oh my God. JJ, I was just praying for a sign. For something to help explain this. I was just praying,” she said and began to sob.
“I’m here,” JJ said. “I’m here.”
“I’m here,” JJ said. “I’m here.”
“Brian’s coming home soon,” she managed. “We’re going to get the kids from school.”
“I’m just thinking of you guys, the girls.”
“Wait,” she said. “He’s here.” There was the shuffling, the muffled words, then JJ’s brother came on the line.
“Hey, little brother,” Brian said. His voice was remote and raw.
“Hey.”
“Thanks for calling.” Brian cleared his throat. “We’re going to get the girls at school.”
“Ok,” JJ said. “I just wanted…”
“Let’s get together at Christmas, ok?”
“Yes,” JJ said. “I really want to see you guys.”
The Thickening 