Jewelweed (30 page)

“Ivan and I once had a pizza in Madison,” said Dart, flipping the dough over once more before pressing it thinner. “It was good value.”

Lucky scoffed. “Madison doesn't even compare. In Chicago people line up in front of the parlors before the clubs open, waiting to get in. You can smell the pizza for blocks around. Hey, I'll admit it's pricey, but it's worth it. All the women are dressed in the latest fashions from New York, six-inch heels, expensive perfume, and custom jewelry. The conversation is quick, smart, staccato, the way people talk when they're pumped up
and demanding the very best from everyone else. When's the last time you were there?”

“It's been a while,” said Dart.

“Would you like to go sometime?”

Dart continued spreading the dough. She wriggled her hands and wrists underneath and transferred the drooping form to a waiting pan. Beside it were two others, the crusts already pushed out and raised on the edges. She lifted the lid from a saucepan on the stovetop, stirred briefly with a wooden spoon, and then began chopping red onions, olives, peppers, and garlic.

“I can't get away,” she said. “Too much needs doing.”

“I'll tell Amy to give you a long weekend. Everyone needs to have a little fun.”

“I like to spend whatever free time I have with Ivan.”

“Mothers shouldn't spend too much time with their sons,” said Lucky, slipping his wristwatch on and off. “It makes them weak.”

“In Ivan's case he needs a lot of weakening.”

“I'm serious,” said Lucky. “In Native American cultures—and many others, for that matter—sons were taken away from the mothers at an early age. They went to live with the men, and it was better that way. Those older societies knew a lot more than we do. You'd never find a boy as old as Ivan still with his mother. It would bring shame on the whole family. The daughters stayed with the mothers, but never the sons. They belonged among fathers, grandfathers, and uncles. Otherwise, the boys would never become men. They would never understand themselves in the right way, their responsibility in the world. They would never learn to stand on their own, to take what they needed and demand the respect of others. It was considered a disgrace for a son to stay with his mother.”

“That's just stupid,” said Dart. She tasted the sauce and added ground pepper and marjoram. Then she took a block of soft white cheese out of the refrigerator and began grating it. Long, thin curls mounded up quickly on the other side of the grater.

“No, it isn't. Boys learn values—what things are worth—from men. They can't learn those things from their mothers. It doesn't work that way. Left with their mothers, they would never understand things like
honor, courage, and self-reliance. Their characters would never fully develop and they would never become men.”

“That's rubbish,” said Dart. “Ivan and I already know all the values.”

“Come on, that's ridiculous, Danielle. How can you possibly know the value of things? You've never lived anywhere else. Until you've been out in the wider world, making it on your own, having real success, you can't know what anything's worth.”

“Well, I do.”

“Okay, look here—what do you think this watch is worth? I'll bet you have no idea what it cost.”

“Let me see it.”

Lucky handed it to her and she quickly gave it back.

“You can get watches like that for less than two hundred dollars from a catalog out of New Hampshire. Free shipping and no sales tax.”

“Are you kidding? A watch like this one costs three times that.”

“You paid too much, then. My catalogs are filled with watches just like that one. Ivan and I, we know values.”

“Wasn't he held back in fifth grade?”

Dart poured red sauce onto the waiting crusts and evened it out with a rubber spatula. Then she sprinkled the cheese and washed her hands in the sink.

“Wasn't he?”

“Yes.”

“Why was that, exactly?”

“Because there are no teachers in his school, just testers. In any other school—any good school—they wouldn't get away with that kind of thing. August Helm is the smartest boy around here. He's Pastor Winifred's son and everyone knows how intelligent he is. He uses words like
sachchidananda
, and he and Ivan are best friends.”

“What?”

“Sachchidananda.”

“That's not a word; it's an insect noise.”

“It's a word and August said it. He knows what it means too, and Ivan is his best friend. Ivan keeps up with him, stride for stride. He's just not good at taking tests.”

“You're probably right,” said Lucky. “Tests don't mean as much as many
things, like making it in the world, having success.” With a clean napkin, he rubbed flour from his wristwatch before putting it back on. “I'll talk to Amy and get her to let you have some time off so we can go to Chicago together.”

“I'm not going to Chicago with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not.”

“You want to do what's right by Amy and Buck, don't you?”

“What does that have to do with going to Chicago?” she asked. After adding the vegetables, Dart carried the pizza pans to the waiting oven. Lucky watched her slide them in and close the door.

“It doesn't have anything to do with Chicago, but there's a party in Madison two weeks from tomorrow night.”

“What party?”

“It's for majority and minority leaders of the state legislature, lobbyists, department heads, notable donors, and other invited guests. There's a lot riding on it. I'm working on a couple promising contracts for Buck, and we're in the last rounds of the elimination process. If the committee accepts our bids it could make all the difference. You probably don't know this, but after Roebuck Construction finishes with that penny-ante nursing home in Red Plain, there are no more major projects lined up. They're just not coming in. People don't want to spend money, because of the bad economy. Buck and Amy are hurting. They've got debts like you can't believe. I probably shouldn't even be mentioning this, but I know too much to keep quiet. At any minute the bank could decide to short-sell this house, for instance, right out from under them. They're just hanging on. So making a good impression at this party could make all the difference. Believe me, my sister understands that. If you go with me it could mean a lot to the family in getting more work.”

“What would I have to do?” asked Dart, setting the oven timer and filling the sink with soapy water.

“Just stay close to me, smile, and look good—make everyone remember you.”

“I don't have anything to wear.”

“I've already talked to a dress shop in Wisconsin Dells. They're waiting for you to come in and try a few things on next week.”

“You talked to them about me?”

“Of course. They already heard you were working here.”

“No they didn't.”

“Of course they did. They'll help you pick out something to wear, something appropriate. And don't worry—it will all go on the expense account.”

“Why didn't they call me?”

“I told them to wait until I'd spoken to you first. I wasn't sure you were willing to help out the family this way. I mean, it's a lot of pressure, a fancy party like this one. Many people wouldn't be able to pull it off, not with this much riding on it. I'll have them call you tomorrow and set up the appointment. You can't go into a place like that without an appointment, not if you're serious.”

“Does Amy know about this?”

“Not yet. I didn't want to mention it to her, in case you wouldn't do it. I mean, many people won't go that extra mile, and it's not like you have to.”

“Is it the dress shop on the corner, across from the bank?”

“That's the one.”

After Lucky drove back to his condominium in Madison, Dart took the pizzas out of the oven and carried them to Kevin's room. To the right of the bed, the nurse leaned back in the motorized recliner, her feet up. On the other side, Amy sat on a small pressed-back chair, an antique ideally suited to her grandmother's era, looking both happy to be sitting on it and uncomfortable. Ivan was ensconced in a beanbag chair, busily manipulating a game control while alternately glancing between the game's digital display and the larger television screen, where a feature-length movie had reached its final dramatic scene. Dart passed out paper plates and napkins. Everyone but Kevin began eating.

After having a slice herself, Dart carried the remainder of one pizza upstairs to share with Florence. Soon after, Amy stood up, said she wasn't interested in watching any more movies, and studied Kevin with a worried look. He didn't turn his head and she couldn't tell if he was sleeping, because his eyelids were nearly closed. A clear plastic hose from the medicine bag dropped from the chrome pole, curved across the top of the sheet, underneath a fold, and into the needle in Kevin's right wrist.
For several minutes she watched the drip tube, then nodded to the night nurse and followed Dart upstairs.

After finishing a third piece of pizza, the nurse put her paper plate and napkin on the tray and went down the hall to use the bathroom.

A commercial came on and Kevin muted it with the remote. Then he slowly turned his head toward the game screen in front of Ivan.

“He got me!” yelled Ivan when GAME OVER lit up on the display.

“That's a difficult corridor,” Kevin said weakly.

“I know it,” said Ivan. He climbed out of the beanbag and took another piece of pizza from the pan. “I never get past this level. That big guy always comes out from behind the door and kills me.”

“You have to go hard right as soon as you come to the street with spiders,” said Kevin. “Go around the building.”

“I tried that. There's no way out of the alley.”

“Yes there is. There's an overhead wire and you can climb up to it, walk over, and jump in a window.”

“I'll try it,” said Ivan. He restarted the game. “How did you get so good at this?”

“It helps to study online cheat codes.”

“Yeah,” said Ivan, feeding pizza into his mouth with one hand and manipulating the control with the other.

“Watch out for that guy on the second floor.”

“I know all about him,” said Ivan. “He's not that hard.”

“There's another killer above him and if he comes out things really go screwy.”

“So what's wrong with you, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you always sick?”

“It's a congenital condition called cystic fibrosis. I was born with it.”

“Can't the doctors fix it?”

“Not really,” said Kevin and coughed several times. “My immune system is compromised—low cell count, depleted antibodies.”

“What's that mean?”

“It's hard to fight infections.”

More coughing.

“Where did your grandfather go tonight?” asked Ivan, lurching up out of the beanbag in response to a dire circumstance on the game display.

“I didn't know he left.”

“He did, and he hardly ever goes anywhere.”

“Is there any pizza left?” asked Kevin, closing his eyes.

“You want some?”

“No, but is it any good?”

“Yup,” said Ivan, sitting back down.

“What makes your mom like she is?” asked Kevin.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know. The way she looks and acts.”

“I don't know. She's just my mother.”

“What was her family like? Do you have any uncles or aunts?”

“I think my mother had a sister. I heard her talking about her once.”

“What's she like?”

“Never met her,” said Ivan, leaning quickly to the right to avoid a hand grenade.

“Why not?”

“Don't know. Mother doesn't talk about her family. Except for Grandma it's almost like she didn't have one, and we almost never see her.”

“Where did you live before you came here?”

“In town.”

“With your mom?”

“Yup.”

“Where's your dad?”

“Dead, I guess.”

“What do you think happens when you die?”

“Beats me.”

“Really, what do you think?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you think anyone knows?”

“My friend August might. He's always thinking about stuff like that. You should talk to him.”

“He's the preacher's kid?”