Spacecraft Page 5

kinds of Votive candles with illustrations of the saints and Christ’s bleeding head, many different kinds of rosary beads from three-dollar plastic versions to handmade silver ones she kept in a glass case that cost over seventy dollars. She also carried The World’s Smallest Rosary, and a glow in the dark model. There were Scapulars, Sacrifice Beads, Blessed Virgin and Saint Christopher epoxy medals, Tiny Bibles, and light-up Our Lady of Guadalupe key chains, pewter Saint Christopher visor clips, inscribed Holy Nails, Prayer Box pendants, capsules of Lourdes Water imported from the Miraculous Shrine in Lourdes France, ceramic Praying-Baby Keepsakes, Angel Light-Switch Covers and Picture Frames, Laminated Jesus Bookmarks, Madonna of the Streets coffee mugs, Divine Mercy Magnets, bottles of Holy Oil from the Grotto of the Nativity, shirts and ties with stained glass-like images, various Ciboriums and First Communion Chalices, Inspirational Pocket Coins, Moral Compasses, Saint Jude Jigsaw Puzzles, First Communion Veils, Pope Charts with illustrations of all the popes through history, Monstrances, Angel Windchimes, Ten Commandment Paperweights, the flag of Vatican City, and Breath Mints made with genuine holy water. She had a rack with postcards and holy cards that featured images of various saints, the Pope, and Jesus going through the stations of the cross. The most expensive postcard cost three dollars and was a hologram image of the Annunciation in a 3D. She had pro-life and pro-Pope bumper stickers and those fish symbols that are so popular. For kids there were Guardian Angel baby blankets, Stuffed Lambs that played ‘Jesus Loves Me’, the Divinity board game, Illustrated Bible Stories and Aesop’s Fables, Catholic Craft Kits, Religious Playing Cards, Nun paper dolls, Pope coloring books, Catechism Flash Cards, and Noah’s Ark Shrink-E-Dinks. She sold cassette tapes of hymns and Christian folk-rock. There was a large box of dashboard statues including Jesus, Devino Nino, Virgin de Regla, Nino de Atocha, Our Lady Of Fatima, Our Lady Of Mt. Carmel, Our Lady Of Guadalupe, Our Lady Of Charity el Cobre, Saint Joseph, Saint Lazarus, Saint Christopher, Saint Anthony, Saint Francis, Saint Claire, Saint Therese, Saint Barbara, Saint Jude, and Saint Michael. And there were crucifixes, tons of crucifixes. Some were small enough to fit on a chain, others were so big it would take two people to move them. She had a five foot long wooden Crucifix mounted on the wall, high above the others. I don’t think Gram ever meant to sell that one, it was just there to lend ambiance to the store. She had books about Catholicism and various editions of the bible. Some of the things in the store were expensive, like the hand painted Icons from eastern Europe, but mostly she sold low-end plastic crap, like the Virgin Mary nightlights or the plastic Saint Francis of Assisi figurines. By far the creepiest thing in the store was a painting by a local artist of The Infant of Prague. I don’t know the back story on the Infant, but the picture was a baby in a long ornate robe and a huge crown. I think the artist used a Cabbage Patch Doll as a model. The thing was straight out of a nightmare.

  The merchandise associated with the Catholic church is about equal to Star Trek. Books, posters, action figures, apparel, all sorts of products that appeal to fans who are obsessively devoted to obscure subplots -it’s really a one to one equation.

  I turned the thermostat down to 65 degrees and started to vacuum. By the time I was finished there was an old man looking through the books. I sat behind the display counter near the cash register and put my feet up on an unopened box of merchandise from Mexico City. “How much is this book?” The old guy asked, holding up a book about the Pope.

  “Prices are on the first page.” I answered.

  “Oh,” he said, flipping it open. He looked at me for a second. “What is that you have all over your face there, son?”

  “I was huffing paint last night and I was kind of sloppy about it.” I said.

  “You were what now?”

  “Huffing paint. You know -to get high.” I said. The old guy got a sad look on his face and put the book down. He turned and walked out of the store. I wished I’d lied to him. “Come again.” I called out.

  When Gram arrived about an hour later, she had Father Billik with her. I knew the only reason he could be there was to talk to me. Gram thought Father Billik was the greatest person in the world, I thought he was a twat. I’d heard a couple of his sermons and he always managed to mention something really great he’d done for poor people or drug addicts. “Nicky, I brought…” She stopped and gave me a strange look. “What in the lord’s name happened to your face?”

  “Oh nothing,” I said. “I had a little mishap while I was working on an art project.”

  “Well, it’s very odd-looking Nicky. You can’t just walk around like that, you should wash it off.” She said.

  “I tried Gram. It’s spray paint. It won’t come off no matter how hard I scrub.” I said. The Father stood beside Gram looking at me as if I was the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen.

  “I brought Father Billik here to talk with you Nicky,” she said. “I told him about what’s been going on, and he said he would help us work it out. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what to say to you anymore. I had a long talk with your mother last night and we’ve come to an understanding. Father Billik will tell you everything.” I realized right then how seriously she was taking this. As far as I knew my mother and Gram hadn’t spoken to each other in over a year.

  “Yes Nick, come with me, I’ll give you a ride home and we can discuss your situation on the way.” He said.

  “Yeah, alright,” I mumbled, picking up my skate. We walked to his gray Datsun and he opened the door for me. As he walked around to the driver’s side I didn’t bother to reach across and unlock his door. I could tell he’d noticed the subtle fuck-you because he seemed irritated.

  “Do you think I’m stupid Nick?” He asked. I just looked at him. “I know why there’s paint all over your face. You were using it to get high. I went to college in the sixties before I went into the seminary. I’m not as out of touch as you might think.” He started the car and began to drive. “What is it you want out of life Nick?” He asked.

  “Uh… I don’t know.”

  “Uh I don’t know isn’t going to get you very far. If all you want is to get high and play with toys I can take you downtown to a soup kitchen that’s full of people who wanted the same thing. I volunteer there once a week and I’ll tell you, it isn’t about having fun for them anymore, it’s about survival. You have to make a choice. Do you want to scrape by and survive, or do you want to make something of your life?”

  “I guess I just want to be left alone.” I said.

  “LEFT ALONE? LEFT ALONE?” He shouted. “You’re a person like everyone else. You have a family and you have responsibilities. You have to eat and you need shelter. You’re going to have to pull your weight, now how do you intend to do that?” He asked.

  I could feel my pulse start to race. I wanted to scream at him as loud as I could. “I don’t know.” I said.

  We sat quietly for the rest of the ride. When we reached the apartment building he pulled up to the curb and left the car running. “Here are the facts.” He said. “You’re a seventeen year old kid with a drug and alcohol problem who’s dropped out of high school. You have no skills or money-earning potential of any kind. You’ve displayed a cruelty and indifference that has scared your grandmother and your mother on many occasions. You have no ambition that I can see. The future for you looks very bleak. I know you don’t respect me or what I do, and I don’t care. I’ll tell it to you straight, your grandmother can’t look after you any more. She’s kicking you out of her apartment. This shouldn’t be much of a change for you because I understand you spent very little time there anyway. We’ll call this strike two Nick, because you’ve got one more chance. Your mother has agreed to take you back at her place, provided you get a job and pay for your room and board. Personally, I’d write you off entirely if you were my kid, but she’s giving you another chance. You’re to pack your things and move out of your grandmother’s apartment tomorrow.”

  “Forty dollars.” I said.

  “What?�
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  “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I think I know what you want. It’s twenty for a hand job, forty for a blowjob and anything beyond that is negotiable. You don’t have to play any games with me.”

  He looked at me for a long time. “Get out of my car.” He said.

  “Alright, I’m going… Pervert.” I slammed the door and walked away.

  4

  I packed all the stuff I wanted to take in my backpack. It was just some clothes and a notebook full of shitty drawings. There really wasn’t anything else I wanted. I went into Gram’s dresser and took two tens out of the stash in her sock drawer. She would notice they were missing, but I thought she might feel guilty about kicking me out and not mention it. I wasn’t going to spend the night there. I wasn’t wanted. I also didn’t want to give Gram a chance to apologize or try to explain herself which would just make me feel bad. I walked down the stairs and across the courtyard to Colin’s apartment. He opened the door in shorts and a t-shirt. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said, “I thought you might’ve gone to school today.”

  “Nah. I’m takin’ the rest of the week off. What’s up with you?”

  “Gram kicked me out. I have to go live with my mom for