Free All Families Are Psychotic by Douglas Coupland Page A

bol ts of shame he felt whenever he though t of his father's behavior, his own behavior, and what it had done to
    his mother — his womanizing and stupidi ty.
    At least tomorro w there would be money, and maybe now Wade could keep away those goons from Carson City, the ones parking outside his and Beth's condo flashing their high beams at one a.m. And maybe a bit left over to try some new anti-Hiv drug combin ations. And the ten K for Dad? Peanuts. For once I can do him a sizeable favor.
    Life was simple, really: a wife to care for and a baby on the way — a li tt le nest to pro tect, and this
    enormou s world just waiting to pounce and shred the whole shebang. Wade though t abou t his blood
    flowing through his veins — his legs and toes and fingertips and scalp — and he tried to keep totally still to see if he could feel the blood moving within him, but no go. We're no more allowed to feel our blood than the rotation of the earth. He though t abou t his aids. When he'd told Sarah, he'd said, 'It 's a time machine, baby sister.'
    'Don' t be so flippant, Wade.'
    'I'm not being flip, Sarah. The truth is the truth.' 'In what way is it the truth?'
    'Like this: If it were a hundr ed years ago instead of righ t now, both of us would be dead. You from that burst appendix in grade three — or an infected cut.'
    Sarah had said, 'Or they'd have dro wned me at bir th.'
    'Blink, you're alive; blink , you're dead. Me? Hell, I'd be dead a hundr ed different ways by now. So I figure that this virus is merely resett ing the clocks to where they ough t to be reset. Senior citizens are
    unnatural.'
    'You honestly believe that?' 'I do.'
    'Excuse me if I have troubl e agreeing with you.'
    Wade had heard the hardness in Sarah's voice. She'd asked him, 'Are you able to get a job and work?' 'Sort of. I have this part-time job dealing cards in this shitty club off Fremon t Street. No booze, either — these livers are picky li tt le fuckers.'
    ' Medication?'
    'Yeah, but let's leave it at that. I have to take a pill every time I blink . Pills are driving me mental.'
    Out on the hotel balcony, fire ants had discovered Wade. He went inside. Beth was snoring . It was 4:00
    a.m. and time for a 3TC capsule and a sip of pineapple juice. " Where did the past six minu tes go? When
    time is used up, does it go to some kind of place like a junkyard? Or down a river like the waters beneath Niagara Falls? Does time evaporate and turn into rain and start all over again?
    Wade took his pill , sipped his juice and went to look out the windo w at the hotels and roads and cars covering Florid a. Talk about a time machine. Of all the states — even Nevada — yet again Florid a struck Wade as being the one most firmly locked in the primordi al past. The plants seemed cruder here, the
    animals more cruel and the air more dank and bacterial. He felt as if the whole landscape were resigned to the fact that in a billion more years it 'd all probably be squished into petroleum.
    Janet was sleeping on the rollaway couch, her breath sligh t, like a finger brushing against paper.
    Wade opened the sliding doors onto the balcony, still hot, even at this hour, and li t a cigarette. If he couldn ' t drink , he'd smoke. Forget the fire ants. Wade, his doctor had told him, your liver has the metabolizing capacity of a two-year-old girl 's. I don' t know when it was you had your last drink , but whenever it was, it was your last.
    He turned around and looked into the bedroom . For no reason, the red message ligh t on the phone started blinking . Huh? He went inside, picked up the cordless phone and pushed the message butt on — Sarah:
    'Wade, hi, it 's your baby sister. You won' t be awake -we're on these funny hours that have to do with orbi ting schedules. I'm on a break. Doesn' t that sound goo fy? Hi, I'm an astronaut and I'm on a coffee break. But it 's the truth, and today has been a long haul, so I gladly welcome some feet-up time. The Russians have tissue