Three Little Words (11 page)

Wain eyes him suspiciously as Sid tosses him a chocolate bar and the Coke. They sit in silence as Wain, who is still breathing hard, eats and drinks. When he is done, he throws the wrapper and the can into the bushes. Sid decides not to play park warden. He can pick up the trash later.

“Who the fuck are you?” Wain repeats.

Sid clears his throat. Now that the moment has come, he wants to lie and say, “I'm Phil's nephew.” Instead, he takes a deep breath and says, “My name's Sid. I'm, uh, your brother. Half brother, actually.”

“No fuckin' way.” Wain glares at him. “I don't have a brother. Mom would have told me.”

Sid shrugs. “You sure about that?”

Wain's eyes widen and then he looks away. “She took off,” he says. “She back yet?”

Sid shakes his head. “I met Elizabeth though. She's worried about you. So's Phil.”

“Why aren't they here then?” Wain asks. “I don't even know you.”

“And I don't know you either,” Sid says. “So we're even. I just wanted to find you, that's all. Phil's been looking all over for you. And Elizabeth's an old lady. They don't even know I'm here. You can do whatever you like—I'll be heading home soon. But I had to be sure you were okay.”

“I don't need your help,” Wain mutters, although Sid can see that his clothes are filthy and he can't stop shaking. “And I still don't think you're my brother. I mean, look at us.”

Sid shrugs. “Genetics are a bitch. When your mom comes back, you can ask her. But you can't stay here forever. You're gonna run out of food. And, man, you really need a shower.”

Wain raises one arm and smells his armpit. He recoils in disgust—an exaggerated movement that makes Sid laugh.

“Elizabeth told me you were a funny kid.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. She told me lots of stuff about you—how smart you are, how brave.”

Wain ducks his head. His tightly curled hair is full of dirt and debris. Sid stands up and looks toward the snow-capped mountain in the distance. He isn't sure, but he thinks Wain might be crying.

“What's that mountain called again?” Sid asks.

“Mount Baker,” Wain says, his voice muffled.

“Ever been there?” Sid asks.

Wain snorts. “Do I look like I ski? Too expensive. And it's not even in Canada. You need a passport.”

“Right. So, you gonna come back with me?”

“Now?” Wain jumps up and backs away as if he thinks Sid is going to tackle him.

“Yeah, now. I borrowed a dinghy. I gotta get it back.

“I stole mine,” Wain says. “Only pussies borrow things.”

“Well, I'm a pussy then. But I have to take mine back. And then I have to tell a bunch of people that I found you. Enid, Amie, Phil, Elizabeth. So any way you look at it, you're coming back. We can row back together. Or the police can come and drag you back.”

“Fucking pigs,” Wain says. Then, “You know Enid?”

“Yup. She's goin' nuts worrying about you.” This is an exaggeration, but Sid knows Enid won't mind. “She's got that show and she's been missing rehearsals to search for you.”

“She has?”

Sid nods. “What else you got here?” He walks over to the dinghy and turns it over—a dirty down sleeping bag and a pillow, as well as some bottled water and a box of crackers. “That what you've been living on?”

“Yeah.” Wain starts throwing everything into the dinghy. “The worst thing is hanging your ass over the water to take a shit. It freezes your balls off.”

“I bet,” Sid says as he retrieves the candy wrapper and the Coke can and they carry the dinghy to the little beach.

Wain laughs when he sees the purple dinghy. “You borrowed Crazy Wendy's boat?”

“She's a friend of my mom's. She was cool about it.”

“Your mom?”

“The woman who raised me. Megan. She's my mom.”

Wain slides his dinghy into the water and jumps in.

“Race you, pussy,” he yells at Sid, who scrambles to catch up. Even though Wain has a head start, Sid is lighter and a stronger rower. He reaches
Delirious
a minute or two before Wain. Neither of them are wearing their life jackets.

“Mission accomplished, I see,” Wendy says to Sid as she watches Wain row alongside. “Mr. Manning will be glad to have his dinghy back. Use my hose to clean it off first.”

“You gonna tell him?” Wain asks Wendy as he and Sid pull the dinghy up onto the wharf, empty it and hose it down.

“Should I?” she asks.

Wain looks at his shoes.

“Don't do it again,” Wendy says. “If you need to borrow a dinghy, come and talk to me. You got it?”

Wain nods. He and Sid carry the dinghy back to the wharf beside
Hither and Yon
, the boat it belongs to. Luckily for Wain, there is no one aboard.

They walk back to Wain's house together, Sid carrying the pillow, Wain lugging the rolled-up sleeping bag. The closer they get to the house, the slower Wain walks. They are moving so slowly, an old woman with a walker passes them, muttering something about
boys these days
.

“How did you know where to look for me?” Wain asks.

“I didn't,” Sid answers. “It was just a lucky guess. I was riding around looking for you, and I kept going by the marina. The island reminded me of a place I go to at home. And I figured that if you really didn't want to be found, you'd go somewhere where no one would see you. That's what I'd do.”

“Were you riding my bike?” Wain doesn't seem annoyed, just interested.

“Yeah. I never left it unlocked anywhere or anything. It's a cool bike. Great name: The Green Knight.”

“You know about the Green Knight?” Wain asks.

“Yup. And I know your name's Gawain.”

“What's your name?”

“I told you—it's Sid.”

“No way Devi named you plain old Sid. What's your real name?”

Sid laughs. “Ever read ‘Rumpelstiltskin'?”

“Sid's short for Rumpelstiltskin? No way. That's wild, even for Devi.” Wain stops on the sidewalk and stares at Sid. “I thought Gawain was bad. Sorry, man.” He shakes his head sorrowfully. “Yours is way worse.”

“My name's not Rumpelstiltskin,” Sid says. “I was just thinking about the fairy tale—when the queen has three days to guess the dwarf 's name. Maybe I should make you guess.”

“And maybe I should kick your ass again,” Wain says, punching Sid in the shoulder.

“Again?” Sid says, dancing out of reach of Wain's fists. “I'll tell you my name on one condition.”

“What's that?”

“You stop hitting me.”

Wain shrugs and ambles on. “Whatever. Okay.”

They turn the corner onto Wain's street.

“Siddhartha,” Sid says. “My name is Siddhartha Eikenboom. Named for the Buddha.” He puts his palms together and bows deeply toward Wain. “Namaste, little brother.”

“Fuck you,” says Wain.

Not So Much

“I
found him.” Sid is in the loft at Phil's, under the duvet, talking to Megan on the phone. He has already left messages for Enid and Amie, who are probably at the theater. Phil and Wain are at Devi's house, waiting for Elizabeth. Sid has come back to the garage because he figures it's not really his family reunion, and besides that, he's exhausted. There's talk of going out for dinner, to celebrate, but he's not sure he'll go.

He tells Megan about the island, about borrowing Wendy's dinghy, about Wain's black fists pummeling his back.

“So you're a hero,” she says.

Sid shrugs and then realizes she can't see him.

“How did you know where to look for him?” Megan asks.

“Just a lucky guess. No one had seen him downtown, at least not lately, so I thought about where I would go, and the island was so close, like the one in our cove.”

“What's he like?” Megan asks.

Sid isn't sure how to answer, so he says the first thing that comes into his head. “He's really…black. Blacker than Fariza. Inky. But his eyes are just like mine. It's weird. Except for that, no one would ever guess we share any genetic material. He's tall—taller than me—and kinda thick, you know, but strong, I think. At least usually. He was pretty weak when I found him, but he put up a good fight. Not that I fought him, or anything,” he hastens to say. “I just yelled at him to stop, and he did. Lucky for me, right?”

Megan laughs and Sid wishes he was sitting with her at the kitchen table, not lying in a stranger's loft, avoiding his new family.

“Do you want me to come and get you?” Megan asks.

Sid thinks for a minute before he answers. He's not sure yet how he feels about Wain—it doesn't seem fair to judge him on such a brief acquaintance—but he knows he likes Elizabeth. Maybe he should stay for a few days, spend some time with her. But what if Devi comes back? Sid shivers under the duvet, even though it's warm in the loft.

“I can take the bus back,” he says. “I still have some money. And I think I want to stay for a bit. Is that okay?”

There's a small silence before Megan speaks, and Sid wonders if she wants to tell him to come home right away, not to get any more involved. Even if that's what she wants, all she says is, “Of course that's okay. They're family.”

“No, they're not,” he says.

“They are, Sid. Just a different one than you're accustomed to. It's going to take some getting used to. For all of us. Give it a bit of time.”

“Don't you want me to come back?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, even though a moment ago he had been worried that she might not want him to stay away. He hates the way he feels. His emotions are jagged, like the edge of one of Phil's saws. Useful if you know how to handle them. Sharp and dangerous if you don't.

Megan laughs. “Don't be ridiculous, Sid. Of course we want you back. This is your home. But if you want to stay down there for a bit, that's fine too.”

“Maybe for a couple of days then,” Sid says. “Is Fariza okay?”

“She's fine. Chloe comes over every day and they play what I used to call Beauty Parlor. They call it Day Spa. They've even done seaweed wraps on each other, which was pretty funny. And smelly. Hot stone therapy is next, apparently. Caleb and I are their test clients. Caleb said the mud mask was pretty awesome. Chloe's talking about making business cards, god help us.”

Sid feels a twinge of what he thinks might be jealousy. He's never wanted a seaweed wrap—he doesn't even know what it is—and he knows if he was there, he'd stay as far away as possible from hot stone treatments and mud masks, but he doesn't want Chloe taking his place in Fariza's affections. It's not a noble thought, but it's still true.

As if he has spoken aloud, Megan says, “Don't worry. Fariza still spends hours every day writing in her sketchbook. She hasn't forgotten you.”

“How can you tell?”

“When she sees the ferry come in, she rushes to the window and watches the foot passengers walk off. When she realizes you're not there, she grabs Fred and goes to her room for a while. Even when Chloe's here, they take ferry breaks. We keep telling her you'll be back, that we'll know which ferry you'll be on and we'll go down to meet you. But you can tell she's worried.”

“Is she there?” Sid asks. “Can I talk to her?”

“Hang on, I'll get her.”

Sid lies on his back and watches a helicopter pass overhead while he waits for Fariza to come on the line. He can hear Megan in the background, coaxing Fariza to pick up the phone. When he thinks he hears her breathing, he speaks. “Hey, Fariza, it's me, Sid. How's Fred? Megan tells me you're writing every day. And that you and Chloe have a spa. That's very cool. When I come back, maybe you can paint my toenails or something.” Fariza giggles softly. Sid continues. “So I found my brother on a little island and brought him home. And I met my grandmother. Her name's Elizabeth. You might have seen her on
TV
. You'd like her, Fariza. I like her. Maybe she'll come and visit us sometime and you can wrap her in seaweed. I'm not going to be away much longer, I promise.”

Sid hears someone come in downstairs. Phil's voice floats up to the loft.

“You awake, buddy?”

“Hang on, Fariza,” Sid says. “I'm on the phone,” he calls down to Phil. “Down in a sec.”

“I'm just giving Elizabeth a few minutes alone with Wain,” Phil says. “Then we're heading out for dinner. You up for that?”

Sid hesitates. He can hear Fariza hand the phone to Megan, who says, “You still there, Sid?”

“Yeah, I'm here. But I gotta go. I'll call you soon, okay.” He shuts the phone after Megan says goodbye. He feels bad that he's cut the conversation short, but he's anxious to see Elizabeth again. He hopes Megan understands. If he's going to be presentable at dinner, he needs to have a shower. He's grubby from the trip to the island, and a bit sweaty from lying under the duvet in the late-afternoon heat. He grabs some clean clothes from his backpack and heads downstairs, where Phil is washing dishes.

“Do I have time for a shower?” Sid asks.

Phil nods. “A quick one.” Sid disappears into the bathroom, where the sea monsters lurk. He runs a soapy hand over the tiles and the creatures undulate around him, alive but harmless.

Wain has the worst manners Sid has ever seen. The restaurant is Wain's choice, a chain that caters to young guys in expensive jeans with product-laden hair and girls in micro-minis and sparkly cleavage-baring tops. The wait staff—male and female alike—is uniformly attractive. The food is surprisingly good. When their entrees arrive, Wain attacks his with a gusto that turns Sid's stomach. He's sure Wain has eaten since their return from the island, but he still attacks his dinner like a wild animal, head down, arms protecting his plate from—what, predators? Maybe a few days without food will do that to you, but it's still gross. Unchewed food falls from Wain's mouth onto the table. Sid looks at Elizabeth, who raises her eyebrows at him and reaches over to touch Wain's elbow.