“I don’t suppose you’ve got any dope on you, do you Tim?”
He didn’t especially want to do any dope with her right now any more than he wanted to talk about Ray but he couldn’t refuse her either. Then he thought of something and almost laughed out loud. The idea was exciting because it was just a little dangerous but somehow he knew it was perfectly suited to the occasion.
“Hold on. Wait a minute.”
He put the Pepsi down on the floor and got off the bed and went to his dresser drawer and opened it and dug behind the socks and took out the foil packet of hash shavings and a small wooden pipe fitted with a screen. The screen had once been gold but now was mostly black.
He handed them over to her, smiling.
“Try some of this.”
She opened the package.
“Oh, hash. Cool. Where’d you get it?”
“Ray.”
She nodded. “You usually don’t buy.”
“I didn’t.”
“Ray gave it to you?”
Ray was notoriously stingy with his hash. Everybody thought so. He’d dole it out to you once in a while but only when he was smoking too and you never got to take some home with you. Never.
“I mule it for him, right? Pick it up at the post office? So I weigh it and then I trim it. Been doing it for about a year now. Ray’s never noticed.”
“Jesus, Timmy.” She looked at him wide-eyed and astonished but smiling too. “You’ve got more balls than brains, you know that? Stealing Ray’s hash. Ray would have conniptions if he knew.”
He laughed. “I know. Let’s fire up.”
She laughed too and packed the pipe and he lit it for her. Feeling good about the whole thing, feeling good that somebody else knew his secret, and particularly that it was she who knew.
The only thing that soured it was that there they were talking about Ray again even though neither of them wanted to. He always got into it somehow.
The guy was inescapable.
Chapter Twenty-one
Schilling
Usually he waited for the weekend to call because rates were cheaper. This time he didn’t want to. He needed to hear their voices, if only for a little while. It was seven, just after dinnertime so chances were they’d be home. Lila answered.
He could tell by her voice that something wasn’t right. She was trying to make small talk, something about her friend Suzi’s daughter’s wedding but it wouldn’t wash with him. She never was good at evasion. It was one thing he was much better at than she was and except for pissing standing up he couldn’t think of another. There was no point pretending to go along so he asked her.
“It’s Will. They threw him out of summer school, Charlie. One of the teachers caught him with a joint in the men’s room. He had another in his pocket. They called me at work. I had all I could do to talk them out of turning him over to the police. He does it again, they will. And the police will send him straight to reform school they said, no options.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“He’s fifteen years old for god’s sake. He got tossed out of the last school for stealing. What’s he going to be doing at twenty?”
She didn’t even try to keep the anger out of her voice. But he knew her. The anger was the only drug that could smother the fear.
“He says all the kids are doing it. Marijuana I mean. He doesn’t even seem to feel guilty. And now he’s going to have to repeat freshman math next year. I don’t know what the hell to do.”
“You want me to fly out there?”
She didn’t seem to hear him.
“I’ve grounded him. Of course. Big deal. I can’t be around to watch him all the time. I have to go to work five days a week. So how can I trust him not to go out and meet his buddies when I’m not home? What am I going to do? Hire a baby-sitter?”
“What about your mother?”
“She’s got dad to deal with. His arthritis is worse in both knees now. He can barely get around. I can’t ask her to do that.”
“I asked, you want me to fly out there?”
He was suddenly glad at the prospect of doing that and guilty about the reason why.
She sighed. “No. I don’t know. Not now. Just talk to him, will you? See if you can talk some sense into him. I can’t.”
“Sure. Put him on.”
“Will? Your father’s on the phone.”
In the silence he pictured her standing there holding the phone in a kitchen or a bedroom he’d seen only once before on one short visit. He didn’t know which room so he pictured them both, a beautiful woman with a haggard overburdened look about her but still beautiful. His woman once. But now solely her own, preferring her aloneness to the company of him.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end seemed to belong to someone much too young to be stealing and smoking dope. It was still in the process of changing. Every time he heard it now the voice was slightly different, a fact that usually pleased him. His son was growing up. This time he met that same realization again. Only this time there was a sadness about it and a very real reason to be worried. You could grow up every which way, a tree standing tall and straight in an open field or blasted and twisted on the side of a mountain.
“Hello, Will. How are you?”
“Okay, I guess.”
He let it hang there.
“I guess she told you, huh?”
“Yes she did. What are you doing, Will?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
The voice turned whiny and defensive. Went up half an octave.
“Look, dad, everybody does it. There’s nothing wrong with it. I mean, just because it’s illegal doesn’t mean it’s bad.”
“I’m not going to argue whether it’s bad or not. But it is illegal. As it is right now they can put you in reform school for smoking the stuff and in another year and a half you’ll be seventeen and they can throw you the hell out of the system altogether. You want that?”
“So? I don’t care. I’ll get a job. So what.”
“So what? I’ll tell you so what. You ever hear of Vietnam, Will? People get kicked out of school these days, they get drafted. They get shipped over to Vietnam to bleed all over some goddamn rice paddy or lose their legs on a land mine. You don’t care about that?”
“By the time I’m seventeen the war will be over. There won’t be a draft anymore. Everybody says so.”
“They do, huh. Well, I don’t know who everybody is but do they teach you about Laos in that school? Cambodia? The war’s escalating, for godsakes. Do you really want to bet your life that whoever everybody is, happens to be right? Your life for godsakes? Come on, Will. You’ve got more brains than that.”
He hoped he was keeping the anger out of his voice. He wasn’t so sure.
“It’s just dope, dad. God! It’s not like I’m shooting up or something.”
“Look, I’ve never smoked the stuff. I don’t know what it does to your head and I don’t even particularly care. But I know it could screw up your life, you get caught with it one more time. Permanently screw it up. You get yourself drafted, it could end your life. I love you, dammit. Your mother loves you. Your little sister’s crazy about you. How do you think Barb would feel if it just so happens that they ship you home in a body bag one day? Her big brother? Jesus, Will!”
“Okay, dad. All right. Okay.”
There was nothing left to do but let the silence do the work for a moment. He’d pretty much said his piece.
“Do the right thing, son. Don’t screw up. There’ll be plenty of time to screw up later, once you get out of school and all this is over.”
“Okay, dad. I hear you.”
Schilling wondered if he did. Somehow he doubted it. He wished he could be in the room with him, actually see if his words were having any effect at all. He felt angry at himself, frustrated. He suddenly had the urge to end the conversation right then and there. Before he said more than he wanted to.
>
“Is your sister around? Let me talk to her, okay?”
“She’s got a couple friends over.”
“I won’t keep her long. Put her on. And think it over, Will. Please.”
He heard him call her. He was glad she had friends there, that she was becoming more social than she’d been back in New Jersey. She needed that. Brains weren’t everything. Friends were important too.
And then after a while, another disembodied voice on the phone. This one steady and small.
“Daddy?”
“Hi, darlin’. How ya doin’?”
“I’m good, daddy. I’ve got Linda and Suzy over. Mommy let them stay for dinner. We’re making a project for science class. Are you coming to see us soon?”
“Soon,” he said. “I hope. What’s the project?”
“We’re making a make-believe swamp. We got that big glass aquarium tank for the turtles? So we’re taking the turtles out and leaving in the real dirt and real moss and stuff, but then we’re making all these fake trees and bushes and vines out of papier-mâché and pipe cleaners and painting them and sticking them all around and stuff, sticking them to the glass so it looks real thick in there but isn’t? And we’re making this little pond with rocks all around it and then putting the turtles back in so that they look like giant turtles, like it’s a prehistoric swamp or something. Like the jungle in King Kong sort of. The teacher said it didn’t have to be really real.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It is fun. But I gotta get back, daddy. Linda messes up if I’m not around to watch her.”
“Okay. You go keep an eye on Linda. Put your mom back on, okay? I love you, Barb.”
“Love you, daddy.”
Silence again. Not long this time. She must have been standing there.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know if I got through to him or not.”
“Jesus, I hope so. I know he’s not listening to me. All I get from him is anger, as though everything’s my fault. Either that or he’s just sullen.”
“Listen, Lila, I know it’s not your habit to, but call me. Call me anytime. I wish you’d phoned me yesterday when this happened. He’s my son too and I care about him. You don’t have to tough this out alone. Whenever you want to talk, give me a call. At work, whatever. I don’t care. Will you promise me?”
“I . . . sure, all right. I won’t call you at work, though. I know how much you hate that.”
“I mean it, Lila. Anytime. At work or whenever. I don’t give a damn anymore.”
“Sure you do, Charlie. But thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Okay.”
The urge to say I love you to her was as strong as it was to say it to his kids. Probably stronger. But all he did say was good-bye and hang up the phone. He sat looking at it for a while thinking about his son and about Lila. If he were out in Arizona with them now, where would they be family-wise? Could his presence straighten Will out any? Was it really even possible to be a family again in any sense whatsoever?
There wasn’t a single happy answer that came to him.
He got up and turned on the television. In a few minutes Daniel Boone was on, buckskins and all, saving the country for democracy, the best of a bad lot of shows this evening. He thought about the war and exactly who was saving the country for democracy these days.
Kids a couple years older than his son, that was who.
He got a beer from the kitchen and tried his best not to dwell on Will’s problems. He’d either straighten out or he wouldn’t. All Charlie could do was wait and see.
Chapter Twenty-two
Friday, August 8
Ray/Katherine
It was dusk and they were driving down Cedar headed for the old White Castle to grab a burger or two, Ray at the wheel and Tim riding shotgun, when the scrawny black cat with the white paws and belly walked out into the road from behind some hedges and Ray accelerated. Racing for it. Scaring the living shit out of Tim. Which was the point. Not that he’d have minded bagging some mangy cat. Especially wired on Black Beauties the way he was. But looking over and seeing Tim’s face gone white as he bore down on the cat, that was the ticket, that was what made him smile. Reminding Tim of what he could do and would do whenever he fucking felt like it.
The cat was fast and lucky and made it past him inches from the left front tire. Ray laughed, high and clear and giddy and glanced into his rear-view mirror and saw it frozen by the shoulder and staring after them as though all the dogs of hell had just roared screeching by.
“Jesus, Ray!”
“Yeah, I know. I missed him.”
“What the fuck you wanna go and do that for?”
“I’m here, cat’s there. I got a car, the cat doesn’t. Why not?”
“Shit, Ray.”
It was always fun to give Tim the willies because you could do it so easily. When they’d all gone to the drive-in to see Rosemary’s Baby last summer Jennifer said she’d caught Tim looking away during the Mia Farrow rape scene. While Ray wouldn’t even allow himself to blink. That scene was terrific!
They were playing that goddamn song again on the radio, the one about San Francisco “Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair. . . .” Good Christ. He switched it off. You couldn’t much hear it anyway with the Chevy’s top down, but still it annoyed him. Fucking flowers in your hair. Yeah, right. The song was disgusting. The song was utter shit. He had a date with Katherine in a couple of hours and didn’t want a goddamn thing to spoil the vibe.
“You ever think about doing that?” Tim said.
“Doing what?”
“Going to San Francisco, to the Haight. Sometimes I think we should do that, you know? You and me and Jennifer. Get out of town and head for the Haight.”
“Now why would I want to do that?”
“Sex and drugs and rock ’n’ roll, man!”
“Tim, we got sex and drugs and rock ’n’ roll right here. Next you’re gonna want to go live in some fucking commune. Eat bean sprouts and brown rice. I worry about you sometimes, you know that?”
“They do what they want there. You deal some drugs, you always got money. You don’t have to work. You panhandle if you need a little cash.”
“Oh yeah. I can just see me panhandling. Asking fucking college kids for money. I’d kill the first little prick who said no to me.”
He would too. Just the thought of it infuriated him. Some asshole hippie with a silver spoon in his mouth telling him no. He decided to change the subject. Tim was messing up his mood just like the song did.
“You hear from Barry Winslow at all? I haven’t seen him around lately. Barry’s a good customer.”
“See? There you go. Exactly my point. Barry Wins-low went to the Haight!”
“Aw, jesus.”
Why he hung out with all these fucking losers he didn’t know.
They pulled into the drive-by window and ordered three burgers each and two chocolate shakes from the kid in the white paper hat. Three burgers at White Castle were about the equivalent of one burger anywhere else but together they were still about half the price. Ray paid. He was feeling expansive, thinking about his date with Katherine. Evidently Tim was thinking about it too, the poor horny bastard.
“So where are you gonna take her?”
He shook his head. “I dunno. She’s got something in mind. I got no idea what. She’s being real mysterious about it. I figure I’ll play along, what the hell. If it’s something stupid I’ll take her back to my place and fuck her on the waterbed.”
He wasn’t sure about his chances of fucking Katherine on the waterbed or anywhere else on their first date for that matter, but there was no point telling Tim that. Let him think what he always thought. That Ray was Mr. Stud and got what he wanted each and every time he spread his wings to fly.
And he was feeling pretty good about it.
Maybe it was the methamph
etamine buzzing around in his brain, but he actually felt pretty confident. The way she sounded on the phone at lunchtime. Flirting with him but something more than that. Seeming to promise something—I’ve got something different in mind was the way she put it. Fucking wasn’t exactly different for Ray but maybe it was for her. Kath was younger. Who knew? On the other hand maybe she was more experienced than he gave her credit for and she’d been reading up on her Kama Sutra lately. He thought the Kama Sutra was mostly un-do-able or at the very least uncomfortable horseshit but there were a few things in there he’d definitely like to try.
That I’ve got something different in mind intrigued him.
He’d give her some rope on this one.
They finished the burgers and shakes in the parking lot and by then it was time to drop Tim off and get ready. He had to shower and shave and polish his boots and do his makeup—just a little, very subtle—and decide what he wanted to wear. He’d lay out all his best stuff on the bed and figure what matched what. He was very good at choosing colors that complemented one another. He’d learned how from his mother’s fashion magazines at an early age. She subscribed to practically all of them but most of the time still managed to look like Ma Kettle on a real bad day.
Women.
Then again he might decide to go for all black. The outlaw look. She might like that. He’d decide after the shower.
Her father had driven to the airport straight from work so the house was hers for a while. She took her time in the kitchen broiling herself a steak in the oven along with some fries and tossing the spinach salad Etta had made for her that afternoon. Her father was never much for steak though he’d eat it if Etta put it in front of him. She rarely did. So Katherine would treat herself to one whenever he was away. What kind of guy doesn’t like steak? she thought. Then again, what kind of guy spent all his free time building furniture and then giving it away? She’d never heard of either type of animal.
While she cooked she sipped a glass of Remy Martin. Another treat, albeit this one forbidden, to be savored when her father was away. When she sat down at the table to eat she poured herself another. By the time she was finished she felt a comfortable glow. Half the steak was left on her plate so she wrapped it and put it in the refrigerator for tomorrow. She’d do a teryaki marinade and slice it thin and cook it very briefly along with some vegetables and rice. She decided not to bother with the dishes. Etta could clean up tomorrow. She rinsed and piled them in the sink.