For a moment, as they track up the coast and out of the untouched hills, into the weird cancerous megastructures of the desalination plant and the sewage plant and the nuclear facility, Jim dreams of a cataclysm that could bring this overlit America to ruin, and leave behind only the land, the land, the land … and perhaps—perhaps—a few survivors, left to settle the hard new forests of a cold wet new world, in tiny Hannibal Missouris that they would inhabit like foxes, like deer, like real human beings.…

They track on into the condomundo hills of San Clemente, and the absurdity of his vision, combined with its impossibility, and its cruelty, and its poignant appeal, drive Jim ever deeper into depression. There is no way back; because there is no way back. History is a one-way street. It’s only forward, into catastrophe, or the track-and-mall inferno, or … or nothing. Nothing Jim can imagine, anyway. But no matter what, there is no going back.

Humphrey gets them up the empty freeway to Sandy’s place, and they all get out to go to their own cars. Humphrey says, “Listen, the odometer shows about a hundred and forty miles, divide it among the six of us and it’ll be really cheap—”

“Really cheap,” say Tashi and Abe together.

“Yeah, so let me just figure it out here and we can even up before you guys forget.”

“Figure it out and bill me,” Sandy says, walking off toward the elevator. Even Sandy seems a little weary. “We will recompense you fully.” Arthur’s off without a word. Tashi and Abe are emptying their pockets and giving Humphrey their change, “Sure that covers wear on the brake pads, Humph?” “Don’t forget oil, Bogie, that big hog of yours just sucks the oil.” “No lie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Humphrey says seriously, collecting their coins. “I took all that into my calculations.” He drives off without a blink at Tash and Abe’s gibing, perfectly unaware of it. Jim laughs to see it. The guy is so perfectly unselfconscious! And of his chief characteristic!

As he walks to his car Jim marvels over it. And tracking home he wonders if everyone is, perhaps, unaware of the principle aspect of their personality, which looms too large for them to see. Yeah, it’s probably true. And if so, then what part of his own character doesn’t he see? What aspect of him do Tash and Abe giggle over, behind his back or even right in front of him, because he doesn’t even realize it’s there to be made fun of?

It comes to him in a flash: he’s got no sense of humor at all!