Authors: Ed Taylor
Colin rubbed his hands together and moved toward the pit, taking one of the books piled as kindling and opening it to rip pages and stuff them among the furniture limbs.
We’re in a bloody Dickens novel.
It’s like camping.
Theo scooted close to the bricks, watching Colin hold a
lighter under the paper. The paint and shiny parts on the wood smoked first, and Theo coughed: you could see bubbles, watch the skin peel on the wood before it flamed blue then orange.
Colin, do you think there are aliens.
Colin looked up, his face shadowy and grinning. You mean like ETs.
Yeah.
I do. In fact, I think you might be one. I mean, how do I know, how could I tell.
Do you think there’s a god.
Hmm. That’s a tougher one.
My dad says he thinks I shouldn’t fall for the lies. He says we’re on our own down here.
That’s a wee bit harsh, I’d say.
Colin stared: come on, babies, dance, dance for me you wee fairies. Theo, watching the orange, rested his chin on a brick, his eyes beginning to water.
Colin yawned: So I’d say, if we’re on our own, we need to take care of each other. Right, mate. That’s what we do.
Theo didn’t say anything, everything now blurry, his lungs beginning to sting. He coughed.
Better back up, eh. Keep those lungs nice and fresh. Speaking of which.
Colin fingered a cigarette out of a pack on the floor, him sitting cross-legged, and held it over a small flame that licked it, and it started to smoke. Colin moved it up and inhaled, the orange tip flaring in a crescent – not all the way lit. He took it out of his mouth and looked at the end, then blew on it and pretended to screw it in, making a twisting motion with his fist. Ahh, he said, exhaling toward the umbrella, we’re blessed,
my friend. We’ve got heat and light on a black night. All we need is some grub. How about it – should I open a few tins.
Okay.
It’s the room with the pit and the black star, windows wide, the dragon fluttering. No one’s here, so Theo moves on, his mind running, too.
Not as mad now, Theo’s wondering: go back and help the other dogs. Or bury her. He left the lady outside. Maybe he should run away. It’s hard to stay mad, you have to try, keep reminding yourself why. He’s just sad, but it’s so sunny.
Theo hears agitated voices, from an open pair of pocket doors ahead, the billiard room, it used to be, and he’s running but now he doesn’t know where, he’s just running and he’s looking inside, and on the cushions that Italian lady who’s Roger’s friend. People shake her, she’s asleep but she’s not waking up, she’s limp. Someone’s standing her up, or trying. Theo stops to watch – maybe he should help. What can he do.
The lady’s clothes are messed up and twisted, and her so white, her yellow hair. What are they doing to her: they’re dragging her around, trying to make her walk but she’s not even awake. Where is his father. Someone’s pinching her. People look scared. They notice Theo, someone says, not now, go away, but then forget him, he’s just there, and the Italian lady can’t wake up. What happened to her. Maybe it’s the same man who hurt Paz.
What’s wrong, Theo asks, but no one says anything. He knows no one in this room; well, he knows the lady. Two men are dragging her around but nothing, she’s just clothes.
Where’s the phone, man. Where’s the fucking phone.
Someone says that, and Theo says, I know, it’s this way, and
out of the clot of people standing – there are a couple of others who are half asleep on cushions, just watching with their eyes almost shut – a short man runs at Theo – come on, let’s go.
They weave down the back hall to the little phone room, where the real phone is, near the main entrance hall, a little room like a phone booth. Colin says the man who built the house didn’t want to hear the phone so he put it in a little room by itself. Theo wondered if that man was among the voices you could hear around the gazebo some nights, the sounds of a party, a lot of voices, even some laughing. Right now nobody is laughing – one of the first times today, no laughing. Nothing funny.
Here, Theo says as they come to the little room; its stained glass door, with birds and deer, leans up against the wall in one of the other rooms. I’m going to find my dad.
Theo runs up the curving stairs two at a time, his dad and Roger when they’re together harder to find now. Roger’s coming out of a room on this hall with his arms around two ladies and a cigarette in each hand: he’s got a New York Yankees hat jammed down backward over his hair. His ribs poke out; a skeleton with some skin on it.
Theo the magnificent, what news do you bring us.
Your friend is sick. The one you came from the car with, she’s not waking up.
Shit.
Where’s my dad.
Roger unloops an arm to breathe from one of the cigarettes. Then he unhooks the other arm and begins kicking and pounding at a wooden door, fast, and saying goddamnit, goddamnit. The ladies stare, one tries to rub his back. He stops, stares at Theo: Bitch.
The lady stops rubbing. Is Roger talking to the lady, or to Theo, or to the sick lady.
Is anyone handling it. Where the fuck are Billy and Del – Roger’s talking to Theo.
There’s a man making a phone call.
Who.
The man you mean. I don’t know his name. He’s short.
Who did he call.
I don’t know. I came to find my dad.
Okay mate.
Roger digs into his jeans pocket – those weren’t the pants he was wearing earlier, they’re too big for him, they might be a lady’s pants, they have pictures sewn onto them, and some words, ‘Unwashed and Happily Slightly Dazed,’ on one of the legs near the bottom – and Roger’s punching at a little black box with a finger. His dad has one too – it’s for talking to minders. Adrian showed him – you touch buttons with numbers and you can send a message.
I guess we will need to make sure the lawyers are awake. I’ll talk to your dad. Wait here a minute.
I want to talk to my dad.
Not now, son, he’s busy.
What is he doing – I want to talk to him.
Roger turns and walks back to Theo and kneels, his face inches from Theo’s and puts a big cool spidery hand on Theo’s hot shoulder.
I need you to help me. Can you do that. Me and your dad’s depending on you.
Sure – Theo stared at Roger’s eyes, the ladies behind with arms around each other – what do you want me to do.
Find Colin and get him up here right now – fast as you can,
okay. It’s really important. It’s really important for your dad, okay.
Okay.
Theo hurls himself down the hall and the stairs. Theo wondered if this was about the police, or why the sick lady might be sick. Is that his mom’s kind of sick. Or is it about something else. So much was covered up, like clouds always around over the sun. Plenty of light but nobody wants it.
Theo’s pelting down the stairs, his heels hurting on the old dark wood where the carpet had been, down down down, a race. He needs to help. He doesn’t want anything else to happen today. The house is untied, slowly drifting from shore, and no one to crew or steer or paddle except him, and he’s not big enough.
This ship fills with smells and noise, music and voices, food and sweet smoke and harsh smoke. Theo’s down and pounding, darting, looking and listening – he usually finds Colin by voice. Outside now, and Gus: there’s Gus, brown and smoking a pipe, making a sweet smell, with a glass of something brown – either rum or the thick beer he likes. Theo sometimes brings him the bottles in his room. Gus’s talking to a lady, two ladies, one wearing a bathing suit and one in overalls and no shirt, and the three of them on the terrace edge, on the wall, leaning back on arms. The ladies smoke cigarettes.
Gus, dad needs help. Roger says to get Colin.
Why. What’s wrong.
I don’t know. A lady is very sick inside, Roger’s friend is very sick.
Sick. What do you mean.
She won’t wake up.
Theo sees Gus’s eyes are droopy, and the ladies’ eyes too.
Too many of the wrong kind of people here. I’ve talked to him about it, but doesn’t make any difference. Not a proper place for a boy.
Where’s Colin. We have to help.
Okay – bang on, then. Let’s find Colin. Don’t know what Colin can do except hold the bag.
What.
Let’s find Colin, indeed, boy.
Gus stands up but he’s wobbly, and Theo’s running around the yard, looking. Colin could be inside. He could be in a room.
Have you seen Colin. Theo’s saying it to the nearest people, but he’s saying it to everybody. He doesn’t know who he’s saying it to.
People are pointing – Theo veers left toward the gazebo, sees at the lawn’s end his boat, sitting, waiting. What bag. Why does Colin need to hold it.
A few people sprawl around the gazebo, and there’s a tape player in there, and music. Old-time music. And there’s Colin. And the Seal, and Gina, and Mingus.
Colin. Dad needs help.
Theo’s panting up the steps, and Colin’s cross-legged staring at him from behind sunglasses. What’s the situation.
Roger says to hurry, it’s important. They’re on the third floor. And Roger’s friend is really sick, she won’t wake up.
Colin smiles. Why. What’s funny: Theo’s confused.
Colin stands and salutes, says bury me under the old oak tree, and jogs off with a cigarette in his mouth and his head down, toward the French doors and in. Take care of Theo, he turns to yell back.
What. Theo’s spinning.
What’s happened, son. Mingus is asking, from behind his yellow space glasses.
I don’t know, Theo answers, but thinks: everything. He remembers Paz, and sits on the gazebo step, picks at flaking faint red paint, other chips littering the grass around the gazebo. Theo gets up and walks scuffling through the grass to where he can see the hedge and the dogs. The catering lady is there with her helper and they seem to be trying to get water into the dogs. Theo can’t see Paz: he just sees the lady holding a head while the helper pours water from a cup into a mouth. Theo feels really sad, and mad, and his chest hurts.
The horse crops at grass near the dunes, reins hanging down on the ground. People drink and smoke, some eat. Music bleeds from everywhere. Some people sleep, or at least don’t move or talk. Maybe they’re dead, too.
Theo feels like he’s bad, leaving the lady with the dogs, and he left his dad with Roger, and he let his mom go, and he left Gus. Colin he gave bad news to, he thinks – he didn’t think Colin liked going inside. What’s left for Theo to run away from. He ran away from school too, but his mom helped, and his dad didn’t disagree. He needs to run toward something. His ship. Sail away, to some place. Was it school or the kids. Or Manhattan. Scary winos. What’s different here.
Did Theo let everyone down, the dogs, his parents, himself. He can’t help anyone, he’s just a kid, how can he help adults. Why don’t they know more.
Theo runs back to Mingus and the gazebo. He has a lot of questions. Always questions – how does he get answers. Himself. He is the answerer. He can’t wait.
Theo’s at the gazebo, his hair and the sun in his eyes. What’s the answer now.
He turns and runs back toward the two ladies kneeling. He’s going to bury Paz. He’ll take her to the dunes. Would anyone notice if he just kept walking away down the beach. Are the police coming. What’s going to happen to his dad. What did Roger mean. He turns and runs toward the house’s dark bulk.
Theo’s streaking now through the French doors and two men in the ballroom are curling up cords and moving speakers into touring cases. And there’s Roger, with a clump of people, the sound men, the band, they’re talking.
Here’s the beast, Roger says, looking down at Theo from his eyes. His head’s a tower with someone in it who’s just watching, always watching.
I’m not a beast.
Sorry, I know you’re not.
Where’s my dad.
He’s on the phone.
Who is he talking to.
Lawyers.
About what.
Police.
Why.
Because the police will be here soon.
Why.
Because they don’t like us, and they don’t like people like us.
Why.
For Chrissake, Theo. Pick another letter. How about
double-yew
, or ex.
Why are they packing.
The men have moved away from Roger and move around the room doing things to equipment.
Change of plan.
Wait. You mean my dad’s not going to record here.
No, we’re not.
Why.
Roger’s cigarette fumes up around his face and gathers at the ceiling. Roger’s squinting at Theo and then something else, maybe what’s out the window.
Everything’s wrong.
What do you mean.
It just didn’t work – we thought it would but it’s not happening here. The sound’s bad. We’re going to France.
France. Why. Can I come.
Sure you can come. Ask your dad.
I can’t ever get to talk to him.
Roger inhales, exhales, a dragon. He laughs and rubs the top of Theo’s head, then he scratches his ribs, leaving red stripes. His fingers are claws
You know, your father has a really important job. This band is tough on everybody. It’s tough on me, it’s tough on your dad, and it’s really tough on the people close to us. Some things have to suffer for the sake of this big responsibility.
What about other responsibilities.
Yeah, well, sometimes you have to choose. You have to decide what’s more important than what. That’s part of being a grownup.
Kids have to do that too.
Yeah, they do. That’s part of growing up, when you get to that point. I think. You have to decide what you can let go, and what you can’t. What you can live with, and what you can’t live without. You find out things that used to be true aren’t anymore. And you have to figure out how to adapt and, you know, keep moving. Keep swimming.
Sometimes I feel like an orphan.
Roger laughs: Yeah. Me too.
Theo’s angry: It’s not funny.
Roger makes a fake serious face, exhales smoke, tries to rub Theo’s head again but Theo ducks away: I’m not a dog.
Yeah, baby, I know.