On Jupiter, the Skies Always Blue

The car parked with a loud pop and a jolt among the weeds and gravel on top of the hill.  They got out and stretched.  Ella hated Gabe’s car.  She hated how it always smelled like Corn Nuts and aftershave.  She hated the way it jerked to a stop and made loud grinding noises every time he parked it.  She hated that the same Neil Diamond CD had been stuck in the player for the last four years, because “Brother Love’s Travelling Salvation Show” is only good the first three thousand times.  He refused to get it fixed and told anyone who asked that it was a Neil Young CD stuck inside and she hated that too.  She watched as Gabe pulled a bottle of Early Times and a pair of toe nail clippers out from his coat pocket and sat down near the edge of the hill.  A trashcan filled with used condoms, empty beer cans and cigarette butts sat bolted to the ground next to him.   Ella moved to sit down next to Gabe as he removed his shoes and socks, crossed his feet Indian style and began clipping.
            “Do you have to do that right now?”  She said, scratching the back of her neck, “It’s disgusting.”
            He paused, flashed a quick smile at her and continued.  Ella bent down and rifled through her worn charcoal purse, past the tangerine Chap Stick and grocery store cosmetics, and drew out a small book of poetry and a flashlight.  She heard the sound of two loud burps and looked over to see Gabe with his mouth suctioned to the bottle of whiskey.  He set the bottle down, stood up and walked back behind the car and into a group of trees.
            “What are you doing?”  She called, lifting her head from her book and looking into the trees.
            Gabe responded with a long groan.  Ella flashed the light at the group of trees and saw him with his pants half way down his legs.
            “Don’t shine that on me, I’m pissing.”
            She quickly jerked the light away from Gabe and onto the other trees in the area.  All of them had ridiculous carvings etched into their bark; “ALW + ELR 4EVR 2/14/’92” and so on and so on.  Stupid kids drunk on daddy’s vodka on prom night trying to get a little action and thinking that that feeling would last forever, she thought.  Disgusting.  Naïve.  She saw Gabe’s figure move back into the light and towards her.  He sat down next to her and put his shoes and socks back on.  Thank God, she thought, his feet smell like moldy Cheetos.  Have they always smelt this bad?
            “Look,” He said, pointing out into the city, “We can see our building from up here.”
            “Where?”
            “It’s just peeking out from in between the NBC building and the old Nabisco factory, see?  It looks a lot nicer from a distance.”
            “A lot of things do.”
            He sighed.  “Don’t start, ok?”
            Ella took the bottle of whiskey from Gabe and took two long gulps.  She set the bottle in between her thighs and started picking at the label on the bottle.  She stood up, took another long drink and stared out into the valley.
            “Don’t get drunk and fall off the edge, babe.”
            The moon hung against the skyline like a spotlight.  Ella felt a cold wind sweep across her.
            “Things didn’t turn out they way they were supposed to, did they?”  She said, picking at the label again.  All that was visible now was “rly Times.”
            Gabe looked down towards the grass; “Can we not do this here?  It’s beautiful up here.”
            “I’m sick of pretending that everything’s beautiful.”
           
He rolled his eyes and stood up quickly and walked towards the car.  Ella knew he was trying to avoid a fight and part of her was glad. 
            Gabe’s car had seen better days.  The paint had begun to rust along the bottom and the sunroof didn’t work anymore and on cold mornings it took at least four tries to start and one of the headlights was busted.  Ella grimaced whenever she thought of that car.  Gabe reached in, put the keys into the ignition and turned the radio on.  An old Ornette Coleman song drifted through the broken down speakers and mingled with the cool night breeze.  He walked towards Ella and sat back down.  She reached into her purse and pulled out a crumpled pack of Marlboro 100s and a lighter.  She lit two and handed one to Gabe. 
            Ella took a long drag of the cigarette and fell back onto the grass.  It was cold and dry against her exposed neck.  Up above thin streams of smoke rose from the city and out into the night sky. 
            “You can’t see the stars like this from the city.”  Gabe said.
            “Yeah.  They’re beautiful—“  She paused. “It reminds me of back home.”  Lazy nights of driving along the 215 Freeway without a destination picking out the constellations one by one swirled in her head.
            “We memorized our little patch of sky pretty quickly.”
            “Yeah.”  She said, looking away.  “But the 215 is two-thousand miles away and the sunroof doesn’t work anymore and the stars don’t shine like this in the city.”
            “The car had a rough time making it out here.”
            Yeah, the car did, Ella thought, making patterns along the dirt with her curled ring finger.
            Gabe took a long drag of his cigarette and said “Have you seen it yet?”
            “I’m not looking.”  She knew exactly what he meant.
            “It’s faint but you can still see it.  Visibility is best in October, I think.”
            “September.”
            “Yeah, September.”
            Ella looked up into the sky and couldn’t make it out.  She couldn’t convince herself that she was actually trying to find it.  “I can’t see it.”
            “Cover one eye with your hand, you’ll be able to focus better.”
            She closed one eye and squinted.  “The lights are too bright, I can’t do it.”
            “It’s right there.”  He extended his arm and pointed his finger towards the southern sky, connecting the stars with his fingers.
            “You eye sight is better than mine.”
            The smoke from the city formed a barely visible continent to the east so thin that the stars could be seen shining through.  The song on the radio trailed off and a new one started. 
            “Change the station, you know I hate jazz.”  Ella said, curling her toes along the edge of the cliff.
            “Relax—you get so hostile when you’re drunk.  And be careful, your feet are starting to slip.”
            “I’m not drunk.”
            The wind picked up and Ella’s nostrils filled with the scent of the hill: a mixture of cheap beer, cheap cologne and premature ejaculation—young love. 
            Gabe took a puff of his cigarette and said: “On Jupiter, the Skies Are Always Blue.”
            “What’s that supposed to mean?”
            “That’s the name of this song.”
            Ella sighed.  “When are you going to stop doing this to me?”
            “Doing what?”
            She raised her voice.  “We’re not sixteen anymore, it’s not going to work.  You can’t just take me someplace nice and pour on your charm and expect me to forget about everything.”
            “Calm down.”
            “I’m perfectly calm.  Calm as I can be considering our rent is four months past due and we owe your dad four thousand dollars and you just got fired again.”
            “Ok ok I get it.”
            “No you don’t.  You just want to sit up here and soak it in.  Everything’s just fine.  But I’m sick of your bullshit.”  Ella stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff.
            “Can’t we talk about this later?  You’re drunk and you’re getting too close to the edg—“
            “I’m not going to fall off the fucking edge, ok?”
            She was done.  She wasn’t going to do it anymore and he would never understand.  They’re just too different now, she thought.  She walked back towards the car, blood surging into her face masking it with a fiery red glow, opened the passenger side door and got inside.  She turned the radio off, rolled down the window and called out; “Let’s go.  I’m sick of the constellations and you and this goddamn hill.”
            From the car Ella saw Gabe get up slowly and walk casually towards the car staring at his feet.  As he turned the ignition and drove back down the hill, he gently put his arm around Ella and flashed that smile.  The smile she could never resist.  The one that made her think, if only for a second, that maybe he was right—that maybe it was ok.  The top of the hill and the edge of the cliff began to sink smaller and smaller through the rear view mirror, Ella stuck her head out of the window and took one last glance at the trees passing by and was overcome with the rotting smell of young love.