The Vivisectionist (7 page)

“Hey Jack, just in time,” his mom said as he walked in the basement door.

“Yeah? For what?” Jack asked.

“I just got off the phone with Mrs. Alexander,” his mom said. Jack caught his breath; it was a few seconds before he put together who she meant: Stephen’s mom.

“She said that Stephen should be here in two hours,” she continued. “I don’t know what she would have done if we weren’t home.”

“So, four o’clock?” Jack asked as Ben walked in.

“Yes, or a little before,” she turned to Ben. “Stephen will be here around four.”

“Oh, okay,” Ben said.

“I’ll be right back,” said Jack as he headed back outside. He wanted to make sure the campsite wasn’t trashed. Jack needed to look at their home with fresh eyes to see where Stephen would find fault. He came around the bushes and saw the tent, cooler, chairs, and fire-pit. Everything looked good to him so he tidied up and then headed back to the house.

Ben had gone upstairs for his shower when Jack came back in the house.

“You guys okay? You seem out of it,” commented Jack’s mom.

“Sure, yeah,” replied Jack.

“You like Stephen, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t know him that well though,” said Jack.

“That’s true,” his mom said. “You spent some time together two summers ago, right?”

“Yeah, he came to Ben’s house for a couple of weeks,” replied Jack.

“Well good—you can pick up where you left off,” she said.

Jack hoped not—where he and Stephen had left off was close to a fist-fight. He knew he would have to make the best of this situation, but he dreaded having to hear how much better Stephen’s house, family, and life were.

**********

That afternoon at three-thirty the boys went out and sat on the curb. All summer they had tracked the progress of the sidewalk construction crew moving through the neighborhood. They had decided long before to try to get their names in the wet cement when it was laid in front of Jack’s house. Based on their observations, they guessed their opportunity was still weeks away, but they hadn’t deciphered the order of the streets.

A few minutes after four a cab from several towns away pulled up.

“He must have taken a cab from the airport,” said Jack.

“Expensive,” said Ben.

Stephen didn’t get out of the cab right away, but seemed to be having a conversation with the driver. Eventually Stephen handed a wad of bills over the seat and started to open the door. Jack and Ben took a half-step towards the cab, but just then Stephen closed his door and engaged in fresh discussion with the driver. The boys couldn’t hear what Stephen was saying and they stayed back, waiting for his next move. Eventually Stephen opened the door again and stepped out.

“Ben, my son, my son, how are you doing?” said Stephen. He was three months older than Ben and four months older than Jack, but he tended to act like he was an old man compared to them.

“Hey Stephen,” said Ben.

Jack looked on, wondering if Stephen would address him.

“Jacky—how they hanging?” said Stephen as he finally turned to Jack.

“Good, thanks,” said Jack.

“Well I am stiff—all-day travel from the Big Apple,” said Stephen. He walked around the rear of the cab and on cue the trunk popped open. Stephen fetched a large suitcase and a big, expensive-looking backpack.

“Be a guy, will ya?” Stephen said to Jack as he handed him the suitcase. Jack could barely lift it with one arm, but was determined to not show weakness. Stephen put on the backpack and buckled it around his waist, as though he were beginning a long hike.

“So what’s going on here—catch me up,” Stephen said to Ben. Jack started off towards the house with the suitcase and Ben and Stephen followed behind. Jack’s mom opened the front door as they approached.

“We’ve been camping out, out back. Jack’s got a great backyard and we’re all set up,” said Ben.

“How much land?” asked Stephen.

“I don’t know—Jack, how much land do you have here?” asked Ben.

Jack wanted to answer, but couldn’t remember the figure—“Um, a bunch of acres, but I don’t remember how much.”

Jack’s mom overheard the question and interjected an answer: “It’s just under an acre, Stephen.”

“We used to have a house that looked a lot like this,” said Stephen.

“I’ll leave you boys alone now, but don’t forget—dinner with us tonight,” Jack’s mom said.

“Okay, mom. Thanks,” said Jack.

Jack began to take Stephen’s suitcase up the stairs one at a time.

When they reached the second floor, Stephen spoke up—“You know, most of that stuff should just go out to the campsite, if we’re camping.”

“I’ll grab it, you’ve got a bad arm,” said Ben as he took the bag from Jack.

“Thanks,” said Jack and followed Ben and Stephen back down the stairs.

**********

Out at the campsite, Stephen didn’t seem to pay any attention to how Jack and Ben had laid out their gear. Stephen dropped his backpack, sat down in one of the two chairs, and propped up his head with his interlaced hands. Ben set Stephen’s suitcase down at the entrance to the tent.

“What did you do to your arm?” Stephen addressed Jack.

“Fell out of the garage loft,” replied Jack.

“Man, Darwin awards, huh?” said Stephen. “Just kidding, son. You guys have a decent setup here. Do you cook out here?”

“Yeah, most of the time,” said Ben.

“We should get takeout sometime soon—what delivers around here?” asked Stephen.

“I’m not sure if anyone does—I doubt they would,” replied Jack.

“Wow, all this and no delivery?” chucked Stephen.

Jack looked at Ben, who looked up at the sky. Stephen looked back and forth between the two.

“Hey, let’s kick the ball a while,” said Stephen after a pause.

Stephen dug into his backpack and pulled out a clean soccer ball. He dribbled it around the tent and then passed it to Ben.

“Go deep!” Stephen called to Ben.

Ben took the ball to the other side of the yard and passed it back to Stephen. Jack had backed up against the edge of the woods, but Stephen passed the ball back to Ben. When Ben got the ball back, he passed it on to Jack.

Jack fired the ball back to Stephen who stopped it easily. This time Stephen kicked the ball back to Jack, but sent it past him into the woods. Jack carefully retrieved the ball and passed it on to Ben. Over the next few minutes Jack and Ben exchanged the ball easily, but Stephen consistently forced Jack to chase the ball into the woods.

“it’s nice and quiet out here—you should count yourself lucky,” said Stephen to Jack.

“Yeah,” replied Jack.

Ben reversed the direction of the ball, and Jack found himself kicking to Stephen. Jack resisted the urge to send the ball past him, and instead kicked a controlled shot directly to him. After a while the boys got tired of passing the ball and returned to the tent. Stephen directed the conversation.

“Do you guys have independent-studies classes?” Stephen asked Ben. Stephen and Ben talked about their classes and Jack could barely track the conversation. Their school-life was fundamentally different than Jack’s.

Like most of Jack’s neighbors, Ben attended private school.  The free-form curriculum of the private school catered to its diverse and creative students. Jack’s parents had offered to send him to private school, but Jack felt like his father respected the public school education more. The same way his dad avoided anything elitist. Still, he missed going to school with Ben. He missed not being his best friend all the time, like they were back in third grade.

“Where do you go next year?” Stephen asked Jack. Jack was startled to be included in the conversation and he had to take a second to process the question.

“Oh…. Um, Pembroke high,” said Jack.

“You sure?” asked Stephen. “Doesn’t seem to have made much of an impression.”

“Ha ha,” said Jack.

“Easy, son—just a joke,” said Stephen.

Stephen turned back to Ben and they discussed drama club for a while. They had acting in common, too. Stephen appeared in some commercials, and Ben had acted in several school plays. Jack busied himself inside the tent, moving the sleeping bags around to accommodate another person.

**********

The three boys prepared dinner, ate, and then turned in. It seemed to Jack that he and Ben hadn’t said one word the entire time. Stephen tended to fill every gap with stories about his amazing life. Occasionally, he would engage Ben in some conversation about one of their mutual acquaintances, but even then Ben barely spoke. The next morning was more of the same.

Ben and Jack typically woke up soon after dawn and listened to the sounds of the nearby woods. Stephen slept a little longer, but as soon as he awoke he started talking.

“Damn it’s cold up here—what are you guys, eskimos?” asked Stephen. Ben chuckled and Jack was silent. He suspected Stephen only lived a couple hundred miles south and doubted the climate was that much different.

“What’s the big plan? You guys get over to the beach much?” asked Stephen.

“Nah, too far,” said Ben.

“What? It’s like forty-five minutes, tops,” said Stephen.

“We don’t have a ride,” said Jack.

“Never heard of a bus, or a cab?” asked Stephen. “I go everywhere by cab these days. So convenient. I gotta hit the head. Be right back.”

When Stephen had crawled out of the tent and been gone for a minute Jack looked at Ben. Ben didn’t meet Jack’s gaze, but said “It’ll be fine,” and slid out of his sleeping bag to go outside.

That morning Jack and Ben fielded dozens of suggestions from Stephen. Everything he brought up required both transportation and money that the boys didn’t have. He seemed to be gearing his comments to point out the deficiencies in their life. Jack was starting to get fed up.

“What are we doing for fireworks?” asked Stephen. “Tomorrow is the fourth and all.”

“They’ve got a thing at the grade school,” replied Jack. “My dad said he'd take us over.”

“That sounds like a million laughs—you ever see the fireworks in Boston?” asked Stephen. “They’re spectacular.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty small here,” said Ben.

“What about bikes? You got bikes?” asked Stephen.

“I saw a couple in the garage,” said Ben.

“Two,” replied Jack. “There’re two bikes in there and one of them is my dad’s. Plus, I’m not exactly able to ride a bike right now,” Jack motioned with his injured arm.

“Well Ben can ride yours and I’ll ride your dad’s,” said Stephen. “I’m taller than I look… Long legs.”

“What am I supposed to do?” asked Jack.

“How should I know—I’m not your cruise director,” said Stephen. “Jeez, can’t you be alone for a while?”

“Hey man, if it’s not something we can all do, then we’re not going to do it,” said Ben.

“Relax friend,” said Stephen, “that’s what I’m saying.”

“No you weren’t!” Jack burst out. “You just said I should stay here alone!”

“That’s not what I meant,” countered Stephen. “You are tightly wound, son.”

“Fuck this,” said Jack. He turned away and stalked to his house. Jack went inside without looking back.

“Wow, what do you suppose that was about?” asked Stephen.

**********

Inside, Jack went right to the kitchen where a calendar was posted on their cork-board. Friday, July sixth was circled and his mom’s handwriting announced “J—Dr.” Jack was instantly relieved; he hadn’t realized his freedom from the sling was so close. Bolstered with this new knowledge, Jack was able compose himself and go back outside.