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Show •15 right there was a foot or two of yellow grass or slippery gravel, then a long fall to the sea. The sun hung low above the water, huge, red, and swollen. "It looks like a big beating heart," I said to Jenny. "What if someday it just stopped?" "People that have disaster fantasies are really afraid of something else," she said. "Death or sex or something." "Let me ask you a question," I said. "What if it really happened? What if seme morning the sun came up blotched or warped, beginning to come apart? How much use would it be to be well adjusted that day?" "Put your hand on my knee," she said. "It'll make you feel worlds better." I wanted to drive us straight through to Los Angeles but the truck's headlights were poor and J. Cash had us stop for the night in a place he said he knew well. We parked the truck among giant evergreen trees, in a spot as dark and silent as a church. I helped Cash block the wheels with pieces of dead wood, then I went to look for Jenny. "Did you see anything this afternoon when I was teaching you to breathe and relax?" she said. "In your mind, I mean." She was sitting on top of a flat rock as big as a house, looking down at the sea. Way down below waves rolled in silently, foamed against the rocks and were sucked out again. A thin fog floated up to us, smelling of salt and seaweed. |