The Good Luck of Right Now(45)

I didn’t understand what type of math Max was using here, but he seemed so excited that I didn’t interrupt him. Maybe you understand, Richard Gere, because you are so much smarter than I am.

“So it all made f*cking sense. And that’s when I f*cking knew . . . that f*cking Arnie . . . was a goddamn . . . f*cking . . . alien,” Max said, throwing in the pauses for dramatic effect. “A yellow-color-loving alien from outer-f*cking-space. They’re everywhere, you know. And I won’t let you or me go through what my sister f*cking went through. No f*cking way. Not going to f*cking happen. Not on my watch.”

“Did you say alien?” I asked Max.

“Don’t you f*cking believe in aliens? The universe is so f*cking huge. Probability is on the aliens’ side. Those f*ckers exist! How can you not f*cking believe?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never really thought about it much.”

What I was really interested in was finding out more information about The Girlbrarian, so I said, “Max, have you ever read Jung? Have you ever read Synchronicity?”

“Synchronicity? Isn’t that an album by the Police? ‘King of Fucking Pain’ is on that f*cker, I think.”

“No, it’s a book written by Carl Jung. It’s about coincidences and how there are none. Unus mundus.”

“Unus-what-the-f*ck-dus are you talking about here, hey? And what the f*ck does it have to do with aliens? Or the f*cking spaceship I almost ended up imprisoned in for three weeks?”

“Hear me out,” I said. “Before we met, I saw your sister at the library. Many times. You might say I felt a certain connection with her. I’ve been watching her working in the library for years and—”

“My sister? Eliza-f*cking-beth?”

“I had always wanted to speak with her, but I was too afraid.”

“Why?”

“That’s not the point,” I said, because I didn’t want to tell Max I was in love with his sister. I didn’t know how he would take that information.

“What the f*ck is the point, then?” Max said.

“My mother died a few weeks ago, which led to my having a grief counselor named Wendy, who recommended I see Arnie, who just so happened to pair me up with The Girlbrarian’s brother. Think about it. What are the odds?”

“Who the f*ck is The Girlbrarian?”

“The girl I have wanted to meet for years now! Your sister!”

“What the f*ck, hey?”

“Synchronicity!”

“You want to f*cking meet my sister?”

“More than anything in the world.”

“You don’t need synchro-f*cking-nicity to meet my sister. I’ll take you to meet her right f*cking now. No problem. And she can f*cking tell you about the aliens who abducted her. What the f*ck, hey?”

Richard Gere, I couldn’t believe my good luck.

It was hard not to think about my mother’s philosophy—The Good Luck of Right Now.

More proof, as the bad of Mom’s death would directly lead to the good of meeting The Girlbrarian for the first time.

Maybe Arnie had been an alien who tried to trick Max into boarding his spacecraft, but the good that balanced out the potential bad of his deception was surely taking place at that moment.

I had never been more certain of anything in my life.

I didn’t care what The Girlbrarian said to me as long as I finally got to speak with her. She could have recited the Declaration of Independence seventy-six times in monotone and without making eye contact once, and my eyes would be riveted on her beautiful plump lips. And now I didn’t have to worry too much about coming off as a freak or failing to say anything at all when I first met her, because Max would be with me.

Max is very talkative.

Max would explain why I was there, providing me with a legitimate reason to be in the same room with The Girlbrarian.

Max would provide a natural bridge for me—a cause for The Girlbrarian and me to speak, even if we ended up talking about aliens.

My fantasy was about to come true.

I was about to accomplish a life goal.

As I walked to The Girlbrarian’s apartment, escorted by her very own flesh-and blood-brother—noticing the increasing amount of trash and broken glass on the concrete and the rising frequency of abandoned boarded-up homes—I thought about all of the random seemingly unrelated events that had to happen sequentially to put me in this very situation, this exact moment in space and time.

I wondered, Was there really math for this sort of thing?

Like maybe some secret division of the government had worked out an equation for people’s lives—like you just plug in the variables of your existence and you get the guaranteed outcome.

fatherless + fat + jobless + ugly + Mom is your only friend x Mom dies – you are approaching 40 years of age



* * *



abused grief counselor + bipolar priest + in love with Girlbrarian x possible alien therapist + Guinness at Irish pub

Equals where I am right now!

Is that crazy?

I was never very good at math.

Regardless . . .

Who could deny The Good Luck of Right Now?

Who?

It was so obvious.

You appeared to me for a few strides and you smiled like you were proud. You gave me the thumbs-up, Richard Gere, and I could tell you were thrilled for me.