Only Children (56 page)

Luke tried to get them to talk. It was obvious now that he wanted to talk, to get them to talk. Nina caved in, she asked him why he cried so hard—Eric shot her a look. How am I going to do this if she doesn’t—

“Daddy left me alone. I was going to try, but he left me alone—”

It’s bullshit. Just like the doctor said. If I stand in the bathroom, he’ll talk to me about how much it hurts—

“Okay, Luke. As long as you don’t cry, I won’t leave you alone. Okay?”

“I cry because—”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Luke! There’ll be no more talking about it! That goes for you too, Nina!” Eric shouted. He swallowed. Luke ducked his head into Nina. The walls seemed to ring from the shout. They bounced about, thunder rumbling. Luke stayed still in Nina’s arms.

Luke thought it was over. In five minutes, he was calm again, happy. Eric waited. It didn’t take long. Luke had cheered up, was telling Nina something, and he flexed his buttocks, began to dance on his toes, holding—

Eric was up, his hand taking Luke’s, “It’s time to go to the bathroom—”

“Noooooo!”

“I won’t stay in the bathroom if you cry.” I’m stuck with this position now. He pulled Luke with him. He let himself go dead, absolutely dead. The colors had no vibrancy, the sounds no resonance. Eric looked past Luke’s pleas as if he were a bum on the street. Eric drained his heart of emotion, watched his humanity empty out, down the drain, until his soul was as cold and bare as a porcelain tub. I’m a guard at Auschwitz; this is how evil is carried out, numb, everything pale and flat.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Luke pleaded.

“I’ll leave if you don’t stop crying.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Luke gasped, tried to swallow his tears back. He did after a moment. He climbed up onto the toilet seat, his little legs not long enough to touch the floor. His face went red and jumped off. “I can’t.”

When Luke says he can’t do it—the doctor had said when Eric went over all the possible permutations, after Eric had quit arguing—when he says he can’t, say fine and go. Don’t make trying the issue, only getting it done.

Back out they went, Luke surprised that he had gotten away with so little torture. Back they went to the living room, and a second later Luke danced, buttocks tight, hopping.

“It’s time to go to the bathroom, Luke,” and now Eric’s voice did sound neutral, a dead voice of authority.

“No!” Luke’s protest was shorter this time.

Back they went. Up on the toilet, jumping off. Out to the living room. Another minute, then: “It’s time to go to the bathroom, Luke.”

“Again?” Luke said, like a grown-up, outraged by a mad bureaucracy. Nina actually smiled.

“It’s time,” dead Eric answered, beyond being charmed.

By bedtime, although they had gone a dozen times, there was still no yield. The next morning, after fifteen more journeys, after Luke tried running away, talking to Eric while he held his legs together on the toilet (I’m not talking, Luke, I’m just keeping you company), after Luke threw one wild crying jag (Eric walked into the living room and sat with the
Wall Street Journal
open in front of his face), after Luke tried to appeal to Nina, after dozens of little tricks, Luke finally made an effort, perhaps bored by the repetition. His face turned red, his stomach squeezed flat, and he pushed out four enormous turds. Where did he keep the stuff?

“You’re a big boy, Luke,” Eric said, well beyond feeling any triumph or relief. “You can have a few M & M’s as a reward for going.”

“Okay,” Luke said quietly.

Then, his body empty, Luke was happy. He asked Nina to take him to the park. Eric went along. Luke laughed and went down the slide without asking anyone to catch him. He built elaborate castles in the sandbox, he told Nina stories about his constructions, he asked her to push him in the swing, and to read him all the signs in the deli where they went to lunch, he took his afternoon nap peacefully with her, in her arms, he played in his room in the evening before dinner, he talked to Nina while they ate, he was very, very happy, and he ignored Eric completely.

He asked Nina to read his bedtime stories, instead of Eric, and told her Daddy didn’t have to come in to say good night. Eric went anyway, brushed the black hairs off Luke’s sweet brow, and kissed the soft chin. “I love you, Luke,” Eric said.

“Nighty-night,” Luke said in a phony voice. He usually said, “I love you too.”

Eric came out, beat. He thought: tomorrow Luke will start to hold it in again.

Eric fell onto the couch, facing a blank television screen, the remote control in his hand, too tired to press the power button. Nina’s hand brushed the top of his hair. He looked up and her face was on him. He saw a glimpse of her blue eyes, filled with water, and her lips kissed him. “You were very brave,” she said.

“Now I’m his stupid father,” Eric said, and he wanted to cry. His voice quavered; his eyes blurred.

“He loves you,” she said.

“Now I’m just another stupid father,” Eric said.

15

“N
O!” BYRON
shouted. “You can’t.” Luke dropped his mud cake.

“But, Byron, but—”

“No!” Luke does everything wrong. Doesn’t listen. “I told you. This is the tower. Nothing goes on the tower.”

“Oh, yeah.” Luke was being gooder now. “Right. You told me. What kind of thing would go on a tower! Right, Byron? Nothing should go on a tower.”

“Yeah, that would be crazy!” Luke’ll play right now. “Now, you be Skeletor. And I’ll put you in the prison.”

Luke pulled back. Byron grabbed him.

“Come on Skeletor. Go in the prison. You’re bad.” Luke
is
bad. He doesn’t listen.

“I don’t want to—”

“You have to! I have the power! You have to!”

“I don’t want to!” Luke ran away.

Good, I’ll catch him. Fast Byron—go! Got his arm and squeeze. “I got you, Skeletor!”

“Byron! What are you doing?” Oh, Pearl. Go away. “We’re playing.”

“I don’t wanna be Skeletor,” crybaby Luke was saying.

“Why do you cry all the time?” Bad Luke. Doesn’t listen.

“He don’t cry ’cept when you being so bossy,” Pearl said.

“What is it, Byron?” Francine’s big tushy was in his face. So big and blue, her pants stretched like a pillow when you sit on it. “You bossing Luke again? He plays so nice and you don’t let him be.”

“We were just playing He-Man. Luke was being Skeletor and I was chasing him. Right, Luke?” Byron nodded at Luke, making his eyes talk. He blinked the words at Luke: don’t tell them. They’re grown-ups and they’ll ruin our game. Blink, blink. Don’t tell them, Luke.

“You telling the truth?” Francine said, and pinched Byron. Her fingers were mean; they squeezed in your skin and hurt.

“I’m gonna get you!” Byron grabbed the big tush and squeezed the blue bumps on it. Hard! There—you fat poop head! Hurt you!

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Luke shouted. “We were just playing. I was being Skeletor” Francine stopped pinching.

“That’s right, Luke,” Byron said. He loved Luke. Luke was so much funner to play with than anybody.

“Really?” Pearl said.

“Yeah. Yeah!” Luke was so happy, so happy to play with me.

“Luke likes to play with me!” Byron told them. “He knows I’m not bossy, right, Luke?”

“That’s right,” good Luke said.

“He doesn’t have very good ideas about what to play. I do. That’s because I’m older.”

“Older!” Francine laughed.

“I
am
older than Luke! Don’t you know anything!”

“No!” Francine put her fat face in front. Byron reached out, to pinch that face, pinch that laugh off her face. She ducked away. “I’m just ignorant! I don’t know anything!”

“I’m older!” Byron told Luke. Luke had to understand. That’s why his ideas weren’t so good. “I was born before you. That’s why my birthday comes first.”

“Okay,” Luke said quietly.

Good Luke. I love him. “You go in the prison now!”

“Okay,” Luke said in a whisper.

D
OESN’T MATTER
. Skeletor never dies anyway. Mommy said, they’re pretend, they don’t live, they don’t die. Mommy said, you tell Byron you won’t play if he doesn’t want to play games your way. But he is older. And his ideas come so fast. Like a grown-up, always coming, always fast, let’s do this, let’s do that. Tell him you don’t want to.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore. Let’s go on the slide.”

Byron stopped shooting Luke. His mouth was a big hole and he sounded like a radiator making heat. “I’m trapping you!”

“Byron, I know that! I know that! This isn’t so much fun anymore. Let’s play Super Friends on the slide.”

“No! I have a better idea!” Byron hopped. He swung his head from side to side. “I’m so smart. I have the bestest idea! You are Skeletor, see? And the slide’s Snake Mountain. You get on top and I’ll come and capture you.”

“Okay,” Luke said. So he’d still be Skeletor, but at least he’d be on top of the slide, up among the leaves, taller than people, like Daddy, seeing the top of everything. He started up the steps, getting closer to the tree branch hanging over the top floor. I can grab a leaf. That could be a shield. I wish we were playing Super Friends. All we do is play He-Man. He thinks his ideas are so good. I don’t think they’re good.

“No, Luke! Come down! I have a better idea! That’s Castle Grayskull and I’m He-Man!” Byron had run up, so fast, up the stairs. He pushed Luke. “Go down. You’re Skeletor. Go down and you come up and attack me.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want to. Tell him you don’t want to, Mommy said. Tell him you won’t play at all, unless he plays the way you want. Mommy thinks it’s so easy. I don’t have ideas fast enough to stop him. He won’t play my way. Mommy thinks it’s my fault.

I want to go up! Up in the air, up to the stars you can’t see in New York because it’s so bright, up to the other suns and other planets, away, away, away—

“Luke! You don’t listen to me! What’s the matter with you! I told you, go down—”

“Byron!” Pearl said. “You stop bossing Luke now! You hear me!”

“Byron, you don’t start playing nice, you be going home for your nap!” Francine called.

“Why didn’t you just do what I said?” Byron buzzed in his ear, like a part of his head, buzzed angry. “Do what I say or they won’t let us play!”

“Byron, don’t be whispering lies to Luke,” Pearl said.

“I’m not!” Byron said. “I’m not!”

One thing Byron doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to talk to grown-ups. “We want to go on the swings,” Luke said. He saw them, empty, just beyond. They go up, up to the moon, Daddy said, up and away.

“No, we don’t!” Byron said. He squeezed hard.

Let go. Tell him to let go, Mommy said, if he grabs you. You know, you’re bigger than Byron. You can push him away it you want.

“Let go,” he whispered.

“Let go of him, Byron. I’ll take you to the swings, Luke.” Even Pearl couldn’t stop Byron. He kept on squeezing.

“The swings are boring!” Byron squeezed. “Stay! I have a better idea!”

“I wanna go on the swings,” Luke said. He held himself tight, and prayed: do what I want, please. Please.

“Okay,” Byron said. “I know! I have a great idea. We’ll get on a swing together.”

“Okay,” Luke said, happy. He didn’t care. Up and down they could go, loose and free, up to the sky and the buildings, swinging in the trees.

Byron pulled him down the steps. He had to hold on tight to the rail so he wouldn’t fall.

“Don’t pull Luke!” Pearl yelled at Byron.

“You’re so bad,” Francine said to Byron, laughing. They walked into the slide area.

Pearl picked him up, up and over the bar—

“No! I go in the same one! We’re gonna swing together, right, Luke?”

“Right,” Luke said quietly. Please just let me swing. No more problems.

“You can’t both fit in there!” Francine said, and picked up Byron.

Byron kicked and kicked. “No!” He swung at her. She let him go. “No! I go in with Luke!”

Pearl leaned in and whispered soft into Luke’s ear, “Don’t pay him no mind. I’ll push you.”

Up.

Hello, buildings.

Down.

“No! I don’t want to! I’m going, Luke! I don’t want to play with you!”

“Okay,” Luke whispered.

Up. To the blue sky.

Down. To the gray earth.

Byron was off, running out to the sandbox, his face red. He yelled something at Francine. She went over to yell at him.

Hello, branches.

Hello, benches.

Mommy said, Byron has to get his way or he gets angry, but if you let him, then you can’t have fun. But I know how to have fun even if I don’t get my way. So if I play what Byron wants, there’s no more problems, no more yelling, right, Mommy?

No, she said.

Francine slapped Byron and he cried.

“I’ll let him stay in my swing,” Luke called back to Pearl. “He can swing with me.”

“No, honey, he can’t fit in your swing. Francine’s gonna take him home. He’s tired, he needs to nap.”

Francine carried Byron off. Luke could hear him crying even when they got too small to see, even when they disappeared behind the bushes. “I wanna play with Luke!” Byron screamed over and over.

“I’ll see him tomorrow, right, Pearl?” Luke asked.

Sure.

Tomorrow I’ll tell him he has to play some things my way.

D
IANE GRABBED
the hard cheeks of Eric’s ass and pushed him to her, his thighs strong, flexing against her skin, his penis filling her, his mouth breathing on hers, saying, “You’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful … ”

“Diane!”

She jerked up from her spread of pleasure and hit her head on the porcelain. “What is it!”

“A call for you.” Peter opened the door of the bathroom and looked in. “Friend of your mother’s. Eileen somebody.”

“Can you bring it in here?”

“It’ll reach?”

“Yes.” She got herself a cigarette immediately. Why is that busybody calling? Did I forget something? Mom’s birthday, the anniversary of Daddy’s death, their anniversary—no.

Peter brought the phone. “Don’t electrocute yourself.”

“Hello?” She began the conversation with innocent curiosity, and found herself in a dark world, inhabited by indistinct shadows and dreadful uncertainties. Eileen was Lily’s best friend. Lily had had a bad cold for two months. Eileen kept urging Lily to go to the doctor. She finally went today. The doctor told Lily she has a heart murmur. They’re going to do a test, where they take a picture of her heart. She might need open-heart surgery. Lily told Eileen she didn’t plan to tell Diane. “Don’t want to worry her,” Eileen quoted Lily as saying.