Augie woke up in a cold sweat, cursing his bad night’s sleep for the 4th night in a row. Ever since Sandra had asked him about his mother, he hadn’t been able to sleep well. His dreams were filled with hot, empty deserts, warm embraces and worst of all-- airplanes. Augie could never stand flying, he never understood why.
He had been on the verge of visiting his mother’s grave, even though he’d vowed to never go back. What good could it do him, he reasoned. It would only make him feel more void. He never knew his mother, so how could he gain comfort from her proximity, even if it was just her long-decomposed body. But then Matilda had implored him to work last minute instead. He hadn’t slept during the day to prepare him for the long night’s shift, so he’d left his wallet there and he decided when he woke up to get it. Might as well do it now, and chances are Matilda’s still there from last night.
He stepped into the eerily still morning air. It was early, he judged, but he wasn’t sure how early. Instead of going directly to the bar, he found himself wandering in the other direction, towards St. Magdeline’s.
No, Augustus. He told himself, and for some reason the voice he heard was Sandra’s. Not a good plan at all, hon. He switched direction and walked towards the slaughterhouse theater. Since the resurfacing of his memories about his mother and the recurring airplane dreams, Augie figured he should figure out what was happening inside of his brain. That was one thing Augie was brilliant at. He was able to remove all emotion, look at himself from outside of his mind, and figure himself out. It was the only way he could understand himself, otherwise he was just a confused jumble of energy.
He tried to do this now, allowing all the emotion to drain out of him and thinking in pure, linear logic. He wasn’t afraid of flying, but he could never fly. Because he could never make it past the shining, sliding doors. Something about the whole place sung heartbreak to him. But that’s not enough to help him find the source of his anxiety. “Heartbreak” is too wishy washy. What’s the association between his mother and airports. That’s the real clue here.
And that’s when it hit him. Anastasia had told him the way his father had met his mother before she even made it to his house and told him to get rid of the baby. His mother had refused, had fought for him. His father was angry, but in the end he left with Augie. Anastasia said it was Amy who convinced him to keep the baby who now stood pacing in front of the mercy hospital agitatedly. He turned a saw a man and woman, outlined crisply in one of the windows. They both wore hospital gowns and looked uneasy. This gave him a foreboding feeling, but he pushed it away, struggling to remain in the logical state of mind.
There was one stipulation to Augie’s remaining alive. The condition was that the baby’s mother never knew her, never knew of his father’s shame. And Augie remained clueless,until Anastasia told him. “It’s a wonder the whole world didn’t know that you’re Kamilah’s,” she had said. “You look just exactly like her.”
Anastasia had told her all the details, all she could remember. But there’s one thing she hadn’t mentioned. Where this faithful separation took place remained unknown to Augie. But he was willing to bet it was at John Wayne airport, Orange County, CA.
He didn’t know what he was going to do, but the emotion had come flooding back and something needed to happen, now. “Fuck you, Dad,” he muttered, turning and marching back towards his apartment.
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