Free Panama by Thomas McGuane

actions.”
    Roxy said, “It’s a little late for that.”
    A jogger stopped to catch his breath and went on.
    â€œThere’s only one thing to concern yourself with as applies to me,” Roxy said deliberately. “After years of enthusiasm, I am almost devoid of interest. I’m sick of everything. The only response I can elicit from the family is greedy irritation. Finally, it’s the only response I want.”
    Outside, Catherine said, “I’m so damned tired and your aunt’s personal philosophy is the tiredest thing I’ve ever heard.”
    â€œYou can see how she got that way though. Besides, we asked for it.”
    â€œYou’re not like that and you’ve got more reason to be.”
    â€œWell, she keeps rolling. She keeps focused on the next thing. Collapsing into the present would kill her. I think she’s hilarious.”
    â€œDo you get chills when you’re exhausted?”
    â€œYes, and I drop things and my knees ache.”
    â€œWhy don’t you give up?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhy don’t you give up. If I were you I’d give up.” Her cheeks were mottled from exhaustion. “You have nowhere to go but down.”
    â€œAnd you?”
    â€œAt the last minute, I’m going to drag myself tooth and nail to the bus station.”
    â€œMemories will assail you before you get to Key Largo.”
    â€œYour brain is decomposing,” said Catherine. “I can smell it from here.”
    â€œI want to garner kudos by manufacturing an artificial paradise of household materials.”
    â€œSit here.”
    â€œThank you. But won’t the bus stop for us?”
    â€œThis is no longer the stop.”
    â€œIt is now. Catherine, if you are positioning me for discourse, quit it. We’re tired.”
    â€œYour father said to me that he should have never left you with the nuns. He should have handled things himself. He said that he let too many others do the things he should have done himself. He said he injured you and he wants a chance to make up for it.”
    â€œI was just another snack to him and now he’s gone.”
    â€œHe’s not gone. Chet, you have to go back and repair these holes. You’re not getting anywhere.”
    â€œHe got me below the waterline. It’s a tribute to my durability that I’ve lasted this long. Jim didn’t. And it’s a family legend that my mother died terminally pissed off.”
    A city bus pulled up and stopped. The driver said it was no longer a stop. I thought that was thoughtful and said so. I told Catherine that I was not keen to pursue this conversation, and that the wolf was at the door.
    â€œStop talking like that.”
    â€œI have my version of events.”
    â€œWhich is what?”
    â€œTiny funerals.”
    â€œIs that to say that if people don’t suit you, you simply decide that they’ve died?”
    â€œNo, Catherine—”
    â€œWhat about me?”
    â€œYou’re still with us.”
    â€œHow much longer have I got?”
    â€œYou’ve still got some time left.”
    Catherine got up and stalked into the blinding daylight. It seems I’m always saying the wrong thing. But when the birds of morning induce terror, no one is at his best.
    *   *   *
    Sometimes I wonder about box office. What makes good box office, you think. What if a depraved pervert throttled the weather girl, is that good box office? I don’t know.
    I have experienced disagreeable side effects in all my endeavors. Sometimes I look at a situation and know they’re going to get me and I say to myself, I think I’ll just go ahead on out of here. I don’t want disagreeable side effects. It’s the additives. There has been a commotion among the impostors and they have introduced additives.
    Jorge Cruz arrived late in the morning to discuss the orchestra. He was distressed at my choice of