Random Acts Part 6

Why didn't I become a comedian, instead? Or a rock and roll star?

Jesus.

I sit up and look at the little red light on the wall. I don't know why I didn't notice it before --- it's very bright, and it's in the shape of a woman's lips. "I'm singing in the rain," it sings, "I'm singing in the rain! What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again . . ." I glance out the window, and, yes, it's raining. I feel too lazy to crawl over Pris and Felix to get to the window for a better look, so I let myself sink through the bed and floor to the level below, and find --- much to my surprise --- that the room below is exactly like the one above, including the position of the bed and the people in it. So I sink down one more. Still the same thing! To the roof, then. I lie on my back, stretch my arms and legs toward the ceiling, and will myself into the air, up through the floors, the beds, the ceilings, on and on, until there's nothing but cloudy sky. Rain pelts my face and bare chest. I walk naked through a garden and carefully climb over a low iron fence to a grove of trees, and sit down in the damp gra.s.s and watch as the rain forms a rainbow. The rain is warm, like a shower, and I can feel the water running down the hill though the gra.s.s under my b.u.t.t. It's a very s.e.xy feeling, and I notice my p.e.n.i.s is growing fully erect. I feel so free, I just let it grow---- "Oh, no. Now he's awake."

"h.e.l.lo. Wake up, wake up."

Someone is shaking me gently, constantly. It's Pris. She's raised up on one elbow and Felix, behind her, is sitting up. His hair looks as if he'd just gone through electro-shock therapy.

Pris is smiling. "What do you want for breakfast?"

I blink, then am overcome by a tremendous yawn. Then I realize I have a monster erection and it's making the front of my pants look like a tent. I'm so embarra.s.sed that I'm struck dumb, but Pris doesn't seem to have noticed it. "C-coffee," I mutter.

"That goes without saying," Felix says.

"Does corned beer hash sound okay?" Pris asks.

"Corned beer hash?" Felix erupts into silly, tired laughter.

"I said beef."

"You said beer."

"It sounds good," I tell Pris, feeling my erection fading. Thank G.o.d. "Either one, beer or beef. What time is it?"

"About seven," Felix says. "You know, you snore like a mother."

"I'm sorry."

"You're not any worse than Felix," Pris says. She moves down to get past Felix, who is not moving, and brushes up against my erection which is still quite prominent. She stops and looks at it. "Oh, h.e.l.lo," she says, then giggles and continues on her way.

Felix looks at it. "Nerk," he says. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Nothing. Don't you get them in the mornings?"

"Yes." Felix stands up carefully. The front of his pants looks like a tent.

4. NERK.

The arrangement, from what I understand, is that I drive Aaron's Mercedes to Berkeley and he picks it up at our apartment. So as I come up the hill to our apartment I'm looking for a parking place right in front --- a rarity, but it does happen --- and there before my eyes is a miracle. There is a parking spot up front, and for some reason the parking meter which usually curses this spot is missing. Is the city removing parking meters? I don't believe it. The world will end the day the city of Berkeley removes its cherished parking meters. This must be the work of a vandal, but that's besides the point. If there's no meter, there's no way any of the local, rabid meter maids can justify giving it a ticket. I park, feeling joyful and blessed, and as I get out and lock the car I notice that there are no parking meters along the entire block. None. And they were there yesterday! It's too good to be true --- there has to be a catch somewhere --- but I cross my fingers and, glancing furtively up and down the street, cross the side walk and jog up the empty stairs to the Euclid.

Tom's voice calls out my name as I enter the apartment. He meets me in the hallway, dripping water and wearing nothing but a bath towel wrapped around his waist. "So," he says, "where were you last night?"

"I spent the night with Pris."

"Oh yeah?"

"And Felix."

"Oh. Nerk." He looks down, shrugs, a gesture I guess means You can't win them all. "I got a call this morning," he says. "It seems that the University got some huge grant last fall for some Top Secret government project."

"Really?" I'm looking around to see any evidence of Heather. I hope to G.o.d he didn't bring her here.

"The person who called in the tip claims the project is right on the campus. You haven't heard anything about it, have you?"

"No, nothing. Not much physics news reaches the biology department.

Are we alone?"

"Yes, we're alone."

"Did you and Heather survive the night?"

"Yes." Tom smiles. "It's really different this time. We've come to a new understanding."

Yeah, right, I think. Excuse me for being skeptical. "How long will this last?"

"As long as it does."

"Hey, do you know what happened to all the parking meters?"

"Parking meters?"

"You know, the parking meters."

He shrugs. "I don't know. Look, do you think you can do some snooping around on the campus about this government project? You know, find out what they're doing, what it's for, things like that. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it had something to do with the little red lights everybody's been seeing."

"Yeah?"

He nods. Water droplets fall from his hair. "Could be."

"Okay. I've got to get ready for my cla.s.s. Here's the keys to Aaron's car, he's going to pick it up sometime today. Are you going to be around?"

"No. Put it on the coffee table, he'll find it."

"I'll leave a note on the front door, just in case."

"Whatever." Tom turns and walks dripping to his room.

I go to mine and begin stripping off my clothes. My bed seems to call to me, singing out, "Sleep . . . sleep . . ." but I ignore it.

Naked except for a towel I head toward the bathroom and take a shower, shave my face, then comb my hair. By the time I'm out, Tom's gone.

As I'm dressing I stare at the phone, wanting to call Pris. But, no, I don't want to seem too eager. I can't believe I spent the night with her. I think about her with her arms and legs around me, sleeping softly warm next to me, I feel all b.u.t.tery inside and feel this energetic euphoria sweep through me. I turn the stereo on loud and sing some Rolling Stones songs as I put on my shoes and socks, and when I'm done I go dancing over to the stereo, turn it off, and continue dancing and singing out the door. I thumbtack a note for Aaron on the outside of the apartment door, telling him where to find his car keys --- he has a key to our apartment in his wallet --- then go walking lightly, almost skipping, out of the building, down the front steps, and across the Berkeley campus.

I reach my cla.s.sroom at exactly 10:00 AM, just when cla.s.s is supposed to start, and to my amazement it's empty. I open the door and look back and forth . . . n.o.body is there. The room is dark and deserted. I turn on the light and walk down toward the front, and notice the rug is the wrong color. It's now dark red as opposed to the pale blue.

I sigh, feeling a little dizzy, and sit down at my desk. The lack of sleep is catching up to me, I can feel it. It comes on in a rush, roaring, making my ears ring. I give in to it and cross my arms on my desk, putting my head down. When I wake up my arms are sore and there's drool puddled on my desk. There's sounds in the cla.s.sroom, and I look up to see eight students have shown up. A few of them are smiling at me with a knowing look.

"Party last night, eh Professor?" says one, a blond boy in a half-s.h.i.+rt and shorts.

"Is it obvious?"

They laugh.

I wipe my face and desk off with a paper towel, straighten my s.h.i.+rt, and stand up. Today I was going to lecture on reptile and amphibian metabolism, but I can't seem to find my notes. "How come everyone's late today?" I ask them as I'm rummaging around my desk.

The students look back and forth at each other. "We're early, Professor."

"Early?" I look up at the clock, which reads 10:20 AM. "This cla.s.s starts at ten, kids."

"Uh, no Professor, it starts at ten-thirty."

"Ten-thirty? Since when?"

"Since the beginning of the year."

I look at the students, and they all nod. Another one comes in the door, a young American-Asian girl in a red blouse and pleated red-and-black skirt. "What time does this cla.s.s start?" I ask her.

She stops abruptly, looking up at me as if she'd just discovered she was in trouble. "Ten-thirty, sir."

I sigh and shake my head. My cla.s.s starts a half-hour later than I thought and the rug is the wrong color. Turning, I pick up a binder from a bookshelf and thumb through it, looking for the schedule. I find it and stare at it, confused. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday cla.s.ses start at 10:30 and 3:30, both a half-hour later than I'd thought. Tuesday and Thursdays were different, as well, both an hour earlier than I was used to.

"That must have been some party, Professor," says the blond in the half-s.h.i.+rt.

"No s.h.i.+t." I put the binder back, my fingers numb and my head spinning. "Okay, can someone tell me where we left off last time . . .

?" With their help I get back on track and from there on it runs smoothly. Despite my confusion about schedules and carpet colors, the metabolism of reptiles and amphibians hasn't changed, nor has my perception of them.

After cla.s.s I walk to a deli over on Telegraph Avenue and eat lunch, and while I'm sitting there I see our b.u.m go walking past. He's clean, his hair is combed, and he's wearing a suit. I nearly choke on my sandwich, and I yell out, "Alvin!"

He pauses and turns toward me. "Oh, hi Professor. How's the salamander and snake department?"

"What?" I'm astonished out of my mind. It's his dry voice all right, but not his tone and inflection. "You are Alvin Laurel, right?"

"Nerk. What's this, a joke?" He smiles. "I'd join you for lunch, but I'm late for an appointment." With a wave, he's gone.

Nerk? What is this "nerk?" What's our b.u.m doing in a suit and having "appointments?" This is too much. I get up, throw away the remainder of my sandwich, and follow him.

Alvin walks to one of the staff parking lots, uses a key to unlock a brown Audi sedan, gets in, and starts it up. Is he stealing it? I wonder. He sees me trailing after him and opens his driver's side window. "Is there something wrong?" he asks me.

"I'm not sure. Where are you going?"

"Up the hill."

"I'm going there too."

"You? Why?"

I shrug. "Need some specimens."

"Oh, going lizard hunting, huh? Need a ride?"

"Yeah."

He pops open the pa.s.senger-side door. I get in feeling like I'm entering a flying saucer piloted by an alien. "Who's car is this, anyway?" I ask him.

Alvin laughs. "It's half mine, half the bank's." He looks over at me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure." It's an automatic answer --- I am definitely not feeling okay. "I just don't remember you and this car . . ."

"It's the same one. You've been in it, what --- a half a dozen times?"

"Oh." I nod like it's all coming back to me, but it's not. "All these new cars look alike."

"Yeah, no one is using their imagination," Alvin says. "They're all just copying one that happens to sell."

The drive up the hill takes us through a gate that I've never noticed before. It's electric, with a keypad. Alvin punches in a code and it swings open, and I sit there watching it with my jaw gone slack.

Beyond is the lab buildings, the ones I'd visited only a few days ago to use a laser. I'll be d.a.m.ned if one of the buildings isn't much bigger than before, a whole addition added to the back, extending it out.

Looking at it, I feel lost, like I'm not where I thought I was. Alvin parks the car and we get out.

By now I've decided to keep my mouth shut and just look around. I don't have enough evidence to make any intelligent conclusions. I'm simply lost or befuddled.

We enter the front and it's much the same as before, but as I follow Alvin down a hallway to the back lab area, he slows to a stop and looks at me with a very odd expression. "I'm afraid you can't come with me," he says. "It's restricted."

"Oh, I didn't know," I tell him, staring beyond him at the laboratory doors. There's a big yellow sign clearly stating that no unauthorized people are allowed past that point. The door has a small square window with wire embedded in it, and through that window a man with a guard's cap is staring back at me. "What are you guys working on in there, anyway?" I ask in a low voice.

Alvin is now really giving me the eye. He says my name, softly and apologetically, followed by, "you know I can't talk about anything that goes on here. You and I could both get into a lot of trouble."

I take a deep breath, nodding, and sigh. "Yeah. Sorry. Just curious."

"I understand."

I take a step back. "Well, I'll . . . uh, go hunt for my specimens now."

"Okay."

I turn and walk away. Outside the lab buildings there's a dirt road that leads further up the hill, and many times I've led a group of students up there on nature hikes, so I half-heartedly walk up there in the dry midday heat until I finally have to stop. My head is swimming. I still don't want to jump to any conclusions; I'm afraid where they'll lead me. There's a large rock in the shade of an oak tree, and I sit there for about fifteen minutes with my mind gone totally blank.