Lost Between Houses by David Gilmour Page A

family. Just seconds before the guy pulled even with me I felt this weird impulse to throw myself in front of the car.
    The guy whizzed by, looking sort of startled. But about a half-mile up the road, his back lights went bright red and just hung there for a second, like a space ship.
    Holy fuck, I thought, he’s stopped, and I started running toward him. A man in a farmer’s hat leaned over and pushed open the door.
    “I almost didn’t see you,” he said. “I’m going into town. How far you going?”
    “I’m going to the city.”
    “I can get you started.”
    It was stuffy in the car, it smelt like old men and oil and rags.
    “Smoke?” he said, offering me a cigarette.
    “Sure,” I said. I put it in my mouth and he lit it with the car lighter.
    “So what are you doing out
here?”
    “I’m going to see my girlfriend.”
    “Same old story, isn’t it?” he said. “Never changes.”
    We started up, the road snaking through the black countryside. A deer ran into the bush. A song came on the radio, real slow, country and western, normally stuff I hate but tonight I was kind of in the mood.
    I saw you tonight
    In her arms so tight
    I watched as she held you tenderly.
    The guy turned it up. We drove through town. A police car was sitting in the empty gas station. The farmer took me to the outskirts.
    “Good luck,” he said and drove off.
    I got another ride. Can’t remember where he dropped me off. Just a bunch of pictures, a waitress in a pink dress staring from a truck-stop window. That soft light off the radio in the dashboard. It was like I kept hearing the same song all night long.
    I
don’t want to go out
    But I can’t just stay home
    I don’t need company
    But I sure don’t want to be alone.
    I got out of one car and into another. At four o’clock in themorning, I was standing at an amber-lit intersection on the outskirts of another town. A sixteen-wheeler picked me up.
    “Hang on kid,” the driver said, “we’re going all the way to Toronto.”
    It was quarter past six when I got to the front door of Scarlet’s place. Into the lobby. Real bright; smelt like perfume and that potpourri shit. Carpets, chairs, vases, lamps, a wonder somebody didn’t make off with all that stuff in the middle of the night.
    I rang Scarlet’s number. It took awhile.
    “Guess who?” I said.
    There was this squawk from her end of the line. The door buzzed and I pulled it open. When I got out of the elevator, Scarlet was sort of peeking out the door.
    “Jesus Christ,” she said. “You actually came.”
    She was wearing a fluffy white dressing gown.
    “Whoa,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve got to lie down. I got up too fast. I’m seeing stars.”
    I caught a glimpse of the light coming in the windows down the hall, and for some reason it made me think about studying for my Physics exam.
    I followed her into her bedroom. It was dark in there, the curtains pulled, and it smelled like a girl’s room. I sat on the edge of the bed.
    “So what do you want to do now?” I said.
    “You talk and I’ll sleep,” she said. “I’m not very good in the morning.”
    “Really?”
    “Don’t be disappointed. I’m just going to have a little rest here. Tell me something. Talk to me.”
    She put her hands under her head.
    “You know that guy at the party,” I said, “the one you were kissing on the mouth?”
    There was a little bit of silence.
    “Are you sure you want to talk about that now?”
    “Who
was
that guy?”
    “A friend of the family.”
    “You can say that again.”
    “I mean I’ve known him since I was little. It was his birthday, so I gave him a kiss. Big deal.”
    “But you felt pretty guilty about it. I could tell.”
    “I was afraid you were going to snitch on me.”
    “No, I wouldn’t do that.”
    “Were you jealous?”
    “Now why would I be jealous? I hardly knew you.”
    “For some guys, that’s all it takes.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m not some guys.”
    I looked