Victory Over Japan (21 page)

“I used to work here,” she said.
“But now I'm quitting. I'm going home. I'm going to have a baby and I don't want it floating around inside me listening to
people say nasty things about other people's paintings. You can't tell what they hear. They don't know what all they can hear.”

“A baby,” Leah said. She moved back as though she was afraid some of it might spill on her gray silk blouse. “My
cousin Freddy's baby?”

“I don't know,” Nora Jane said. “It's just a baby. I don't
know whose it is.”

I'm doing things too fast, she thought. She was driving aimlessly down University Avenue, headed
for a bridge. I'm cutting off my nose to spite my face. I'm burning my bridges behind me. I'll call my mother and tell her where I am.
Yeah, and then she'll just get drunker than ever and call me up all the time like she used to at the Mushroom Cloud. Never mind that. I'll
get a job at a day-care center. That's what I'll do. This place is full of rich people. I bet they have great ones out here. I'll go
find the best one they have and get a job in it. Then I'll be all set when she comes. Well, at least I can still think straight. Thank God for
that. Maybe I'll drive out to Bodega Bay and spend the day by the ocean. I'll get a notebook and write down everything I have to do and make
all my plans. Then tomorrow I'll go and apply for jobs at day-care centers. I wonder what they pay. Not much I bet. Who cares? I'll live on
whatever they pay me. That's one thing Sandy taught me. You don't have to do what they want you to if you don't have to have their
stuff. It was worth living with him just to learn that. I've got everything I need. It's a wonderful day. I loved saying that stuff to that
man, that Ambrose whatever his name is. I'll bet he's thinking about it right this minute. YOU AREN'T FIT TO JUDGE A BEAUTY CONTEST AT
THE BEACH MUCH LESS A WORK OF ART. That was good, that was really good. I bet he won't forget me saying that. I bet no one's said anything
to him in years except what he wants to hear.

Nora Jane turned on the radio, made a left at a stoplight and drove out onto the
Richmond-San Rafael bridge. She had the top down on the convertible. The radio was turned up good and loud. Some lawyers down in Texas were saying the
best place to store nuclear waste would be the salt flats in Mexico. Nora Jane was driving along, listening to the lawyers, thinking about the ocean,
thinking how nice it would be to sit and watch the waves come in. Thinking about what she'd stop and get to eat. I have to remember to eat, she
was thinking. I have to get lots of protein and stuff to make her bones thick.

She was just past the first long curve of the
bridge when it happened. The long roller coaster of a bridge swayed like the body of a snake, making a hissing sound that turned into thunder. The sound
rolled across the bay. Then the sound stopped. Then a long time went by. The car seemed to be made of water. The bridge of water. Nora Jane's arms
of water. Still, she seemed to know what to do. She turned off the ignition. She reached behind her and pulled down the shoulder harness and put it on.

The bridge moved again. Longer, slower, like a long cold dream. The little blue convertible swerved to the side, rubbing up
against a station wagon. The bumper grated and slid, grated and slid. Then everything was still. Everything stopped happening. The islands in the bay
were still in their places. Angel Island and Morris Island and the Brothers and the Sisters and the sad face of Alcatraz. An oil tank had burst on
Morris Island and a shiny black river was pouring down a hill. Nora Jane watched it pour, then turned and looked into the station wagon.

A woman was at the wheel. Four or five small children were jumping up and down on the seats, screaming and crying. “Do not move
from a place of safety,” the radio was saying. “The aftershocks could begin at any moment. Stay where you are. If you have an emergency call
751-1000. Please do not call to get information. We are keeping you informed. Repeat. Do not move from a place of safety. The worst shock has passed. If
you are with injured parties call 751-1000.” I think I'm in a place of safety, Nora Jane thought.

The children were
screaming in the station wagon. They were screaming their heads off. I have to go and see if they're hurt, she thought. But what if a shock comes
while I'm going from here to there? I'll fall off the bridge. I'll fall into the sea. “The Golden Gate is standing. The
approaches are gone to the Bay Bridge and the Richmond–San Rafael. There is no danger of either bridge collapsing. Repeat, there is no danger of either
bridge collapsing. Please do not move from a place of safety. If you are with injured parties call 751-1000. Do not call to get information.
Repeat…”

That's too many children for one woman. What if they're hurt? Their arms might be broken. I
smashed in her side. I have to go over there and help her. I have to do it. Oh, shit. Hail Mary, full of grace, blessed art thou among women and blessed
is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Womb, oh, my womb, what about my womb…? Nora Jane was out of the car and making her way around the hood to the
staton wagon. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death…. She reached the door handle of the back seat and
opened the door and slid in. The children stopped their screaming. Five small faces and one large one turned her way. “I came to help,” she
said. “Are any of them hurt? Are they injured?”

“Thank God you're here,” the woman said. “My
radio doesn't work. What's happening? What's going on?”

“It's a big one. Almost a seven. The
approaches to this bridge are gone. Are the children all right? Are any of them hurt?”

“I don't think so.
We're a car pool. For swimming lessons. I think they're all right. Are you all right?” she said, turning to the children. “I
think they're just screaming.” None of them was screaming now but one small boy was whining. “Ohhhhhhhh…” he was saying
very low and sad.

“Well now I'm here,” Nora Jane said. “They'll come get us in boats. They'll
come as soon as they can.”

“I'm a doctor's wife. My husband's Doctor Johnson, the plastic surgeon. I
should know what to do but he never told me. I don't know. I just don't know.”

“Well, don't worry
about it,” Nora Jane said. She set the little whining boy on her lap and put her arm around a little girl in a yellow bathing suit. “Listen,
we're all right. They'll come and get us. The bridge isn't going to fall. You did all right. You knew to stop the car.”

“I'm scared,” the little girl in the yellow suit said. “I want to go home. I want to go where my momma is.”

“It's all right,” Nora Jane said. She pulled the child down beside her and kissed her on the face. “You
smell so nice,” she said. “Your hair smells like a yellow crayon. Have you been coloring today?”

“I was
coloring,” the whining boy said. “I was coloring a Big Bird book. I want to go home too. I want to go home right now. I'm afraid to be
here. I don't like it here.”

“He's afraid of everything,” the little girl said. “He's my
brother. He's afraid of the dark and he's afraid of frogs.” “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” he cried out, louder than ever.
“See,” the girl said. “If you just say frog he starts crying.”

“Celeste, please don't make him
cry,” the plastic surgeon's wife said. “I'm Madge Johnson,” she went on. “That's Donald and Celeste, they
belong to the Connerts that live next door and that's Lindsey in the back and this is Starr and Alexander up here with me. They're mine.
Lindsey, are you all right? See if she's all right, would you?”

Nora Jane looked into the back of the station wagon.
Lindsey was curled up with a striped beach towel over her head. She was sucking her thumb. She was so still that for a moment Nora Jane wasn't
sure she was breathing. “Are you all right?” she said, laying her hand on the child's shoulder. “Lindsey, are you okay?”

The child lifted her head about an inch off the floor and shook it from side to side. “You can get up here with us,”
Nora Jane said. “You don't have to stay back there all alone.”

“She wants to be there,” Celeste said.
“She's a baby. She sucks her thumb.”

“I want to go home now,” Donald said, starting to whine again.
“I want to go see my momma. I want you to drive the car and take me home.”

“We can't drive it right
now,” Madge said. “We have to wait for the men to come get us. We have to be good and stay still and in a little while they'll come
and get us and take us home in boats. Won't that be nice? They'll be here as soon as they can. They'll be here before we know
it.”

“I want to go home now,” Donald said. “I want to go home and I'm hungry. I want something to
eat.”

“Shut up, Donald,” Celeste said.

“How old are they?” Nora Jane said.

“They're five, except Lindsey and Alexander, they're four. I wish we could hear your radio. I wish we could hear
what's going on.”

“I could reach out the front window and turn it back on, I guess. I hate to walk over there
again. Until I'm sure the aftershocks are over. Look, roll down that window and see if you can reach in and turn the radio on. You don't
have to turn on the ignition. Thank God the top's down. I almost didn't put it down.”

Madge wiggled through the
window and turned on the radio in the convertible. “In other news, actor David Niven died today at his home in Switzerland. The internationally
famous actor succumbed to a long battle with Gehrig's disease. He was seventy-three…. Now for an update on earthquake damage. The department
of geology at the University of California at Berkeley says—oh, just a minute, here's a late report on the bridges. Anyone caught on the Bay
Bridge or the Richmond-San Rafael bridge please stay in your cars until help arrives. The Coast Guard is on its way. Repeat, Coast Guard rescue boats
are on their way. The danger is past. Please stay in your cars until help arrives. Do not move from a place of safety. The lighthouse on East Brother
has fallen into the sea….”

“I want to go home now,” Donald was starting up again. Lindsey rose up in the
back and joined him. “I want my momma,” she was crying. “I want to go to my house.”

“Come sit up here
with us,” Nora Jane said. “Come sit with Celeste and Donald and me. You better turn that radio off now,” she said to Madge.
“It's just scaring them. It's not going to tell us anything we don't already know.”

“I
don't want to come up there,” Lindsey cried, stuffing the towel into her mouth with her thumb, talking through a little hole that was all
she had left for breath. She was crying, big tears were running down the front of her suit. Madge climbed out the window again and turned off the radio.

“You're a big baby,” Celeste said to Lindsey. “You're just crying to get attention.”

“Shut up, Celeste,” Madge said. “Please don't say things to them.”

“I want to go
to my house,” Donald said. “I want you to drive the car right now.”

“ALL RIGHT,” Nora Jane said.
“NOW ALL OF YOU SHUT UP A MINUTE. I want you all to shut up and quit crying and listen to me. This is an emergency. When you have an emergency
everybody has to stick together and act right. We can't go anywhere right now. We have to wait to be rescued. So, if you'll be quiet and act
like big people I will sing to you. I happen to be a wonderful singer. Okay, you want me to sing? Well, do you?”

“I
want you to,” Donald said, and cuddled closer.

“Me too,” Celeste said, and sat up very properly, getting ready to
listen.

“I want you to,” Lindsey said, then closed her mouth down over her thumb. Starr and Alexander cuddled up
against Madge. Then, for the first time since she had been in California, Nora Jane sang in public. She had been the despair of the sisters at the
Academy of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus because she would never use her voice for the glory of God or stay after school and practice with the choir.
All Nora Jane had ever used her voice for was to memorize phonograph albums in case there was a war and all the stereos were blown up.

Now, in honor of the emergency, she took out her miraculous voice and her wonderful memory and began to sing long-playing albums to the
children. She sang Walt Disney and
Jesus Christ Superstar
and Janis Joplin and the Rolling Stones and threw in some Broadway musicals for
Madge's benefit. She finished up with a wonderful song about a little boy named Christopher Robin going to watch the changing of the guards with
his nanny. “They're changing guards at Buckingham Palace. Christopher Robin went down with Alice.”

The children
were entranced. When she stopped, they clapped their hands and yelled for more.

“I've never heard anyone sing like that
in my whole life,” Madge said. “You should be on the stage.”

“I know,” Nora Jane said.
“Everyone always says that.”

“Sing some more,” Donald said. “Sing about backwards land again.”

“Sing more,” Alexander said. It was the first time he had said a word since Nora Jane got in the car. “Sing
more.”

“In a minute,” she said. “Let me catch my breath. I'm starving, aren't you? I'll
tell you one thing, the minute we get off this bridge I'm going somewhere and get something to eat. I'm going to eat like a pig.”

“So am I,” Celeste said. “I'm going to eat like a pig, oink, oink.”

“I'm going to eat like a pig,” Donald said. “Oink, oink.”

“Oink, oink,”
said Alexander in a small voice.

“Oink, oink,” said Starr.

“Oink, oink,” said Lindsey
through her thumb.