John Wayne by Dan Barden

Author:Dan Barden [Barden, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-77384-5
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2011-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

The stretch of Pacific Coast Highway between Laguna Beach and Newport Beach was undeveloped. There was the road and the roadside fruit and vegetable shacks, but beyond that, there was nothing but the Coast Range, like a brown shelf set just above the Pacific Ocean. By the time they hit the road, the haze had completely burned off, and the ocean was too blue and the hills were too brown and the road was stark like a black snake in the sand. Frank sited the road over the great hood of his Chevy. He drove too fast.

“It’s not what I expected to be doing on a Friday afternoon, getting drunk with John Wayne.”

“John Fucking Wayne,” Duke corrected him.

“John Fucking Wayne, I’m sorry. Why don’t we bulldoze the whole fucking coast and make an amusement park. We’ll call it JOHN FUCKING WAYNE LAND. Walt Fucking Disney ain’t …”

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Duke interrupted him. He looked so big there in the passenger seat. Frank was sure he’d never seen anyone so big in his brand-new truck. Wayne tugged at the brim of his trucker’s cap. “It’s something I was thinking about before that I wanted to tell you.” Wayne coughed and rolled down the window to spit. “I wanted to tell you that the world is full of sons of bitches.”

“And whores,” Frank added.

“And whores.”

“I know that,” Frank said solemnly.

“But some of those sons of bitches are going to love you and you’re going to love them back. And some of those whores are going to be closer to you than your own breath. And you’ve got to be able to tell the difference between the ones you love and the ones you don’t love. It doesn’t make a goddamn bit of difference to the world, but it makes all the difference to you. I’m going to be one of the bastards that loves you, and you’ve gotta know the difference between me and someone else.”

“How do I tell if you’re you?”

Wayne pondered this as though it was an important question. He stared out the window as an electric-blue Corvette passed them on the left. Too close, much too fucking close. Frank gave him the finger.

“You’ll know I’m me because I’m the one who loves you.”

This satisfied Frank. They drove the rest of the way to Newport Beach in silence.

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