Hello Loved Ones (39 page)

“Sure. But I was thinking. If I stay around, well… it might help her if we just, you know, ignore the whole Voss thing.”

“Are you saying you don’t believe it?”

“I believe it all right. But we don’t have to let old peckerwood ruin our family.”

Now Lenny laughed. “Right. You took care of that a long time ago.”

Richard looked at him. “You know, you could cut me some slack here. I’m making an effort.”

“It’s a little late, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” Richard studied him, then threw his hands up. “Listen, what do you want from me?”

Lenny wasn’t going to answer. He focused on the ball game but couldn’t seem to figure out what was going on. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I wonder how you could let that happen, with mom and Voss.”

“You mean why didn’t I know that my God-fearing wife was fucking her pastor? Jesus, I’m stupid!”

“I’m not saying it’s not mom’s fault.”

“Goddamn right! I’m tired of being the bad guy. Now you see I’m not the only one made mistakes.”

See it, maybe. Admit it, never. “Yeah, you deserve a medal.”

Richard was getting hot. “Maybe I do. And in case you’re wondering, you are my kid. No doubts there.”

“Too bad, ain’t it?”

Richard stood up. “You’re a goddamn smart ass, aren’t ya?”

People were looking.
Here we go
, Lenny thought. He clenched his teeth. “I’m watching the game,” he said to his dad. Stony cold. But he was starting to sweat too.
Please, please don’t do this. Not here.
“Sit down. Or leave.”

Richard hesitated, then sat. He leaned forward on his knees and chewed his lip. They both stared at the field.

“I’m not apologizing for nothing,” Richard said suddenly.

“What a surprise,” Lenny muttered. He could be a son of a bitch too. It was his nature, and was it any wonder? It got old, though. He wished he could find a way to talk to his dad that wasn’t all sniping, but how? And what was the use anyway? What could his dad possibly say?
Sorry kid, I just had better things to do. Sorry I found you so damn boring
. Lenny didn’t even need specifics. Something general would do.
Sorry for the way things went down
. Why couldn’t he say that?

“You know, you kids want everything zipped up neat-like. That’s how your mom has always been, expecting God to show her the way, like he’s holding up some sign in black and white. In my opinion, God don’t care that we fuck things up. Most times you get along by the seat of your pants.”

“Thanks for the pearls of wisdom,” Lenny said, bracing for his dad’s anger. Why did he keep smart mouthing? He didn’t want to do it. He agreed with him, that was the thing. But he wasn’t about to say so. His dad didn’t deserve to have it easy.

But Richard didn’t erupt. Figures. There was no predicting anything with this guy. He must practice wearing a person down, that’s how good he was at it. Lenny had never felt so confused.

“Well, nice chatting,” Lenny said. “I’m outta here.”

Richard grabbed his arm. “Hold on there. Watch this play.”

Lenny nearly slapped his hand away. People didn’t grab him. They knew better. He checked himself and then allowed Richard to pull him back into his seat. What was wrong with him? Where did this fucking weakness come from? He couldn’t seem to make a move.

“That weaselly guy shouldn’t be starting,” Richard was saying. “He doesn’t have any kind of arm on him.”

Lenny scoffed. Here at least he had some confidence. “His ERA is 3.6.”

“That’s not much better than you.”

“How would you know?”

“I followed your season. I read about that last game. Tough break.”

Lenny had a quick image of his dad sitting somewhere with a paper spread in front of him, reading about his son. If only he had known! He might have played better.

“I choked,” he said.

Richard smiled at him. “Happens to the best.”

Lenny looked away. “That’s all over now.”

Richard nudged him with his elbow. “You can’t just let it go. You’ve got talent. Why don’t you coach?”

“Who’s going to hire a coach with a police record?”

“You didn’t
kill
anyone, for chrissake. One assault charge. That’s nothing.”

“You speaking from experience?”

“Maybe.”

Lenny studied him. “You kill someone?”

Richard raised his eyebrows. “What would you think if I did?”

Jesus! Was he serious? Was this where all his own murderous tendencies came from?

Richard laughed. “Nah, but I’ve been arrested four times. Two D & D’s, two assaults. None of them were my fault. I’m just unlucky that way.”

Lenny wanted to know more about his dad’s life, but he wouldn’t let himself ask. He told himself it didn’t matter. He was eighteen now and had his own life to live.

“Anyway, I’m leaving town,” he said.

“That so? Where you headed?”

“New Buffalo first,” Lenny said. “There’s a farm down there.”

“Aw
shit!
” Richard slapped his leg. Lenny looked quickly around the field. Did he miss a bad play? But Richard wasn’t reacting to the game. He was looking at Lenny with exasperation.

“You’re not into that crap, are you?”

“What?”

“Communal living. That red belly commie stuff. Is that what the bandana’s all about?”

Lenny touched his head self-consciously. “It’s not about anything. I’m just looking for somewhere to work, away from here.”

“Yeah, I know all about the place. And I hate to bust your bubble, but there’s an outbreak of hepatitis down there.”

“How would you know?”

“You say that a lot, you realize that? You think I’m some dumb shit who’s been living in a cave or something? I know a thing or two about life. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Jesus, cool it.” He never should have said anything. Being a hippy was just something you did, and then you were cool. You didn’t announce it in advance. Hey, I think I’ll be a hippy! Like I’m going to be an accountant, or lawyer.

“For your information, I was just through there on my last trip up from Michigan City. They’re not taking any newcomers. The place will be gone before winter.”

Lenny tried to look unfazed. Leave it to his dad to ruin his plans even when they didn’t involve him. “I’ll head to Chicago then,” he said finally. “Plenty of work there.”

“Plenty of rioting and head busting, too.”

Lenny glared. “I guess I’ll go where I want to go.”

“Well which is it, a commune or the big city? Sounds like you don’t know what you want.”

“Like you do? All the sudden you want your little family back? You want Sally to pretend she’s your kid? Man, that’s outta whack.”

There was a long pause. “Don’t I know it,” Richard said, hanging his head.

Something close to pity tugged at Lenny. He tried to put the brakes on it, but it went spooling out, like a thread winding around them.

“So I guess you’ll be gone by the time the series starts,” Richard said.

“Maybe.”

“Too bad. ‘Cause if the Tigers go all the way, I’m guaranteed two tickets to game three in Detroit.” He let loose a big shit-eating grin.

Lenny squinted at him. “No way.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“How would you get tickets?”

“I’ve got friends. And there’s other people I can ask, too, so you want to go or what?”

The World Series! With his
dad
. This was what he’d dreamed of as a kid. The two of them behind home plate, their scorecards in their hands, his dad raising a folded dollar bill for the hot dog vendor.
Two here!
But that was back when he still believed in his dad. He knew better now.

“I might have to work at the marina,” he said cautiously. “I’ve been pulling some shifts there. Scrubbing down boats.”

“Well, you can either work for the lazy fat fucks who can’t take care of their own goddamn boats, or you can come watch McLain throw another shut-out.”

Lenny shook his head. Imagine seeing Denny McLain in the flesh! Being that close to something so great, well, it’d change his life. “Why you asking me?”

Richard faced him. “Isn’t it about time you and I catch a game together? I mean a real one.”

The sincerity of his dad’s voice hit Lenny like a fist. He blinked hard. He had to be careful. He had to remember who he was dealing with.

“Last time we were gonna have a game together, I ended up sitting on the goddamn porch for four hours waiting on you.”

“Yeah.” Richard scowled and chewed his lip again. “I never meant for that to happen. What do you say you overlook that, and I’ll overlook you trying to take my spleen out with your bat? We’ll call it even.”

Lenny didn’t answer. Could they really start fresh?

His dad touched his arm again.

“Son, I’m talking about the World Series here. I know you’re not stupid enough to say no.”

It didn’t matter what he said. Chances were that it was all another set-up. Another miserable fucking disappointment. What the hell. He nodded and said, “Yeah, I’d go.”

Richard slapped Lenny’s knee. “All right then! Let’s pray that the Tigers bring us home!” He raised his arms in the air and yelled, “Hallelujah Jesus!”

People looked over again, but suddenly Lenny didn’t care. He felt reckless.
Come on, hit me!
There was a sort of satisfaction in the promise of pain. It was a bearing-down kind of resolve that Lenny knew well. He actually laughed. His dad was waving his hands around and laughing too.

“Amen!” Lenny said. He’d never said this with any feeling before but now it just popped out of him. Was this the bubble of joy that people felt when they gave their hearts to the Lord? He felt saved.

Richard stood up. “I’m gonna go make some calls.” He held out his hand and Lenny stared at it a second before he understood he should shake it.
Man to man.
It felt strange. Lenny tried to make his grip sure and firm.

“See ya,” he said, and it came off casually, as if he didn’t really wish that his dad would stay and sit out the game. But what would this lousy game matter when they were sitting side by side in Tiger Stadium?

“I’ll be talking to you,” Richard said.

“Sure, whatever.”

“Hey. Don’t bring the bandana to the big leagues, okay?” he said. “You look like a freak.” He stomped off down the bleachers. “Wear a ball cap!” he called. Then he was gone.

Lenny felt dazed. The game was still on, and the regulars were still swatting flies and chewing gum and grumbling loudly.
How ‘bout an ump who knows his head from his ass?
Lenny tried to screw his scowl back on his face in case any nosy fuckers were looking at him, but it was hard. It was hard to even look interested in the game. He hardly noticed it. The World Series! Lenny Van Sloeten at the World Series? He saw Cash, sitting now, down on the first row, and had a ridiculous urge to go tell him.
Hey, my dad’s taking me to game three at Tiger Stadium!
It was stupid. The Tigers hadn’t even sewn it up yet. They still had to finish off the Senators. But they’d do it. They had to do it. Please God, if I ever catch a break, make it this one. Bless Denny McLean and Dick McAuliffe and Mickey Lolich.

And bless my dad. Bless him for having friends who can do him big favors. And make sure he doesn’t fink out on this. Or on Sally. Or me. Because this time, I swear, I’ll kill him.

Hear me, God?

Prudy

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Before she had kids, Prudy had it all figured out. She would be a patient and loving parent. Firm but fair. Her kids would love her with that whole-hearted adoration you see in a Renaissance painting. Chubby little cherubs with wings and halos, sent from God to cling to her knees.
Mother!
Serene, exalted one.

Before, Prudy would watch other women with children, thinking
my kids will never eat potato chips for breakfast, or go outdoors with unzipped coats, or crawl under the pews during church
. The joke was on her, wasn’t it?

Motherhood was such a
trap
. Either you took it out on your kids, or it was taken out on you, but someone had to pay. There were women like Mona Veenstra who took out the frustrations with a smack or a pinch or a push. There were those, like Prudy, who tried so hard and still screwed up. Her mistake was in ever believing she was a separate person. She’d thought that as long as she was giving hugs, drying tears, advising, encouraging, feeding, clothing,
loving
her children, then her private sins wouldn’t affect them. If she chose to have an affair—with a better man than her husband!—what right did her children have to judge her?