Up High in the Trees (27 page)

I walk outside. The sky is low and flat with no clouds. There's snow everywhere. In my head, a line connects the house where I live to the blue house where Jackson lives. I follow the line that goes straight, then right, then straight, then left—the line makes a shape like a hook.

The blue house is sad today. I stand by the mailbox, looking. The upstairs windows are white from pull-down shades. Nobody's home. In front of the door, a newspaper is waiting.

I reach out and put my hand on the cold, black mailbox. I leave my hand there until my hand is cold and I watch the house look sad. The roof is white from snow.

I put my cold hand in my pocket and then walk up to the blue house. What I do is just sit on the front steps. I know I can't stay for very long because I promised Cass I'd come back soon. She made me look at my watch. Thirty minutes, she said.

I take the letter out of my pocket. Dad gave it to me.

I can't, he said, I can't keep this anymore. He said, I'm sorry.

I unfold the letter again and look at it. I know all the words. The letter says,

Feb. 14, 1984

To my Sebastian,

Today, you are five days old. I have to tell you this now. When I hold you, I get a strange feeling inside. I feel like I am missing you even when I'm holding you,
even when I'm looking at you right there in my arms. I don't know what this means. Maybe you will understand. Please, try to understand. You're sleeping right now. I watch you sleeping and I miss you. I need you to know how much I love you. I need you to know and hold on to my love always.

Yours, Mother

I look at the words. Then I fold the letter and put it back in my pocket, but I can still see all the words in my head. The words are just words from reading them too much and I don't know what they mean.

Snow is falling again, hiding the houses and the trees and the street. I run. If I stop, the snow will cover me up and make me disappear. I run the line that is like a hook all the way back to Dad and Cass.

Dad wakes me up late at night. I can hear Cass talking and laughing on the phone downstairs.

John Lennon died exactly twelve years ago, Dad says and carries me into his room. The TV whispers and flashes colors. I want to touch the warm screen.

Dad points to the black alarm clock next to his bed. The green numbers are blurry without my glasses on, but I can read them. The clock says 11:02
pm
.

This is when it happened, Dad says, five shots.

On TV, there's John Lennon, not dead. He's saying, Everything we do is aimed at peace.

I hate these retrospectives, Dad tells me.

I watch a blurry picture of John and Yoko sitting together in a big, white bed. The picture changes to another picture of John and Yoko lying together on the floor and then the pictures flash faster and faster so you can hardly see them. The TV screen goes black for a second and there's a still picture of John Lennon's face with dates too small for me to read.

What's it say? I ask Dad.

Nineteen forty to nineteen eighty, says Dad.

I scoot down off the bed and touch my hand to John Lennon's warm face. It pops with static.

Come here, Dad says.

I lie down with my head on his leg and close my eyes. Dad puts his hand on my back.

Cass helps Dad get ready for dinner at Jackson's house. She straightens his collar and fixes his hair and gives him Tylenol to make his hurt hand feel better.

Try to be friendly, Cass says.

Before we go, Dad unwraps his white T-shirt bandage. He sees me looking at how his hand is dark purple blue and swelled up.

I'm fine, Dad says.

It's snowing again. The sky is sinking down low and turning dark for night. I'm walking, looking up. The dark is coming lower and closer. Snow lands on my face and stings when it melts.

At the blue house, I knock on the front door and I can feel Dad standing there behind me.

Jackson lets us in.

I have to take Dad's good hand and pull him inside.

Hi, Jackson says and then runs away.

Jackson's mom comes out from the kitchen. She's wearing a white sweater. I look down at her feet. Today she's wearing socks. Thick, white socks.

Hi, Sebastian, she says to me, how are you, honey?

I don't like your socks, I tell her.

Sebby, Dad says. He grabs my arm and squeezes too hard.

It's all right, she says. She's looking at her feet and then she looks up at Dad. We've never met, she says. I'm Alison.

Stephen, Dad tells her.

Shelly comes running out of the kitchen then and hides behind her mom.

This is Shelly, their mom says, and you've already met Jackson.

Dad nods.

We go sit down in the room with a tan-colored couch and chair. The TV's turned on and there's a JELL-O commercial with Bill Cosby's big, squishy face. Jackson's mom reaches for the remote on the table and clicks it off. In the empty screen, I can see Dad and me sitting next to each other on the couch. Dad crosses one of his legs on top of the other and shakes his foot.

Jackson! their mom turns and calls into the kitchen, come out here and bring your brother. She's sitting on the tan chair and Shelly's on the floor in front of her.

Hang on! Jackson yells back.

Their mom looks at me and Dad and says, I'm so glad you two could come.

Dad coughs and clears his throat.

You're Sebby's dad? Shelly asks.

Yes, he says to her, yes I am.

Shelly stares at Dad. I look at his face, too. His skin is very white and I can see that he's sweating. There are dots of sweat around his nose and above his lip and also on his neck.

P-p-p-pleease, says a funny voice from the kitchen. Jackson comes out then. He has on a plastic Roger Rabbit mask and Baby Chester's wearing a Jessica Rabbit mask. They're walking over to us, but slowly, because Baby Chester takes tiny steps.

Oh, Jackson, says their mom.

Baby Chester's a lady, Shelly says and she laughs.

Take those masks off now, their mom says.

Jackson pushes back his mask so that the plastic Roger Rabbit face is on top of his head and then he pulls off Baby Chester's. Shelly runs over to him and grabs the Jessica Rabbit mask. She puts it on and jumps up on the coffee table in front of the couch and starts dancing.

Okay, their mom says, that's enough. She stands up and takes off Shelly's mask.

Get down, she says to her.

Shelly sits on the table and looks at me and Dad.

Did you see the movie
Roger Rabbit
? she asks us.

I think so, Dad says.

I'm not allowed to, but Jackson saw the video of it at his friend's house, she says, and Jessica Rabbit has enormous boobies.

So, says their mom, these are my children—the lovely masks are courtesy of their father. She's holding Baby Chester on her hip. This is Chester, she says to Dad, my youngest. Then she sits down again.

I have three children too, says Dad.

I'm sure yours are better behaved than mine, she says.

Well, Dad says, they're older. He clears his throat and then doesn't say anything else.

I watch Dad's foot shaking.

Hey, says Jackson and he climbs over the back of the couch and sits down next to me.

Do you want to spend the night? he whispers. We can sleep in my tent.

Could I use your bathroom? Dad asks and stands up with his bad hand behind his back. He pushes back his hair with his other hand and I can see his hair is wet from sweating.

Of course, says Jackson's mom, upstairs to the right.

Dad nods and sort of bows at the same time. Excuse me, he says.

Mom, Jackson says, Sebby wants to spend the night.

His mom looks at both of us.

We'll see, she says. Baby Chester pushes down off her lap then and she lets him go. He starts walking in circles around the coffee table, knocking on it.

Knock-knock, he says. He keeps saying, Knock-knock. Jackson laughs at him and then Baby Chester laughs, too. He goes faster and faster around the table.

Shelly gets up and follows Baby Chester. She's laughing and copying everything he does.

Jackson's mom looks at me. She shakes her head. What am I going to do with them? she whispers.

How old are you? I ask her.

Where did that come from? she asks.

I don't say anything.

I'm thirty-nine, she says. What do you think about that?

That's good, I say, Mother died when she was forty-one years old.

Oh, she says and then looks down at her lap. You must miss her a lot, she tells me.

I lost her picture, I say.

She nods. When Baby Chester runs by her this time, she grabs him and pulls him back up onto her lap. Shelly runs over and climbs on her mom's lap, too.

Jessica Rabbit is hot, Jackson whispers to me. Don't you think so?

I look at the empty plastic mask of Jessica Rabbit's face that's lying on the floor.

Well, I say, she's a cartoon and I don't really like cartoons.

She's hot, says Jackson. He tips back his head and looks at the ceiling.

I'm going to go check on the food, their mom says.

We're eating a turkey for dinner, Shelly tells me. Then she turns around and follows their mom and Baby Chester into the kitchen.

Mom is making another Thanksgiving, since you missed it, says Jackson. He rolls up one of his pant legs. Above his knee, he shows me a very flat, brownish scab. It's an eraser burn, he says.

I reach over and touch his scab with my finger. It's not the kind of scab you can pick.

You erase your skin off until it bleeds, Jackson says. There's a boy who made one three inches long on his arm. We measured it with a ruler.

Jackson pushes his pant leg back down.

It hurts? I ask him.

Sort of, he says.

How come you didn't bring your camera? Jackson asks.

I shrug.

I wanted you to take a picture of me jumping, he says and wipes his nose on his hand. I want it so in the picture you can just see me in the air and it could look like I'm jumping off something really high.

Jackson's mom comes out of the kitchen then.

I think we're just about ready, she says. She looks up the stairs where Dad went. Do you want to go see about your dad? she asks.

I can feel something drop inside of me. My arms and legs and my whole body are heavy and I don't want to move.

Jackson gets up with me and we walk over to the stairs.

Hey, Jackson, his mom says, let Sebby go.

But he keeps walking with me. I look down at his mom. She puts her hands in her pockets and smiles a small, flat smile with her lips pressed together.

The bathroom door is closed.

Dad, I say to the door.

There's no answer.

Dad, I say and I knock. I try to turn the handle and the door opens.

Dad's not inside.

Dad, I say again to nobody. I look behind the shower curtain.

Where is he? Jackson asks.

I don't say anything.

He disappeared? asks Jackson.

I shake my head.

Jackson goes running downstairs.

He disappeared, Jackson's yelling, Sebby's dad disappeared!

I walk down the hallway.

Dad, I say. My voice has gone quiet. I step into the playroom, but I don't see him anywhere.

I go into Jackson's room and open the closet to look inside.

Then I walk into the blue room where Jackson's mom sleeps. I can hear Dad talking. He's talking the words to the song that Van Morrison sings, about girls walking home from school.

Dad, I say. My voice is still quiet.

He doesn't answer me.

I get down on the floor and Dad is under the bed. He looks at me but keeps talking the words to the song.

Dad says the words about leaves falling and falling.

Dad, I say. It's hard to talk. My eyes are burning. Tears are running hot down my cheeks.

Dad, please, I say.

Jackson's mom finds us. She lies down next to me and sees Dad. He's talking the words to the song and not looking at us.