Theo (15 page)

Colin’s grinning lopsidedly. Doesn’t matter. We got word from the office he’s on his way from Perth. Good news, eh.

Theo’s grinning, jumps backward and sinks, to the bottom, sits for an instant with arms around his legs, eyes closed, cheeks bulging, holding air in his mouth. Letting current wash over, hearing the sound of waves breaking themselves.

His lungs. He blows out and shoots up, splashing. Colin’s staggering in toward the others, yelling something.

Colin. Colin.

Colin turns finally away from the others: What, mate.

What happened with the jeep.

Colin smiles and staggers as a wave slaps him: The spoiled little toffs mouthed off. But we have juice, too, and I know the cop, he’s a good monk. This is the playground of the beautiful people, and the beautiful people have to be able to play. So we play on.

The two boys, Theo notices, now just sit and watch all of them, not talking. Maybe if he hadn’t been with Gina, if it was just them, maybe they could hang out some. Theo stares, hands shielding his eyes. He sighs, slapping at the water, hard, over and over seeing how far he can spray. Watching the
two boys get up and walk, then run, pushing each other and laughing, away. Watching until they dart right toward dunes and disappear, presumably, going home.

T
heo wakes, to the sound of water, splashing. Where is this. Eyes open, in his room, in the attic, the dark space full of sun from the old windows at both ends, three on each side. But barely there, the water; somewhere below. Theo yawns, scratches, pushes hair away from his face. His dad. He remembers: his dad came, last night.

Theo’s up and off his big mattress. He smells himself – yeah. Stuff needs washing. Gus bags up clothes in big white bags and a truck comes and takes them. Colin calls it the diaper service. One time last winter they burned all the dirty clothes in a fireplace. Colin was drunk. A car came the next morning and the three of them rode into New Jersey and went to a store and Colin walked around pointing at things, Gus and Theo pushing carts and throwing the things into them. When they got back to the house and tore open the bags they found women’s clothes and some sports uniforms, along with replacements for burned things, and two toasters and rugs and tools and toys and something called a Cuisinart, in a tall box. Colin kicked that box to the back lawn and shot at it over and over with his silver pistol. The box still sat outside somewhere near the trees, the colors on the cardboard faded and the box shredding. Pieces of it ended up in squirrel nests.

Colin called it an experiment. He said they were in Eden and their job was to classify everything, figure out what to call
it. Gus said, for once in your bleeding life, would you shut the bloody hell up. Too much jawbonin, Tex: Colin talked like a cowboy. But he was quieter for a while, a day or so.

Theo’s at the attic’s front windows now, hands spread on the splintery ledge, the glass Xed by iron. In the spaces between the iron lines he sees the front, the cars, the long van that is the mobile recording studio, black cables strung umbilically from it and running up the steps and in windows and two red metal boxes on the ground outside humming and smoking. Generators: the electrics in the house would go up the spout without them, one of the sound guys said. The RV arrived after dark yesterday, just before his dad.

Sound, faint, from inside the house; new sound, something Theo could feel in his feet and his hands on the window-ledge. People playing music, different than records. A guitar snarling up. Sounds like his dad.

A butterfly. A butterfly at the edge of his eyes in the attic. He turns and follows it, a monarch, bobbing. From his cocoons. He walks looking at the hanging cases, looking for anything moving. Here and there, like an eye behind a lid, there’s stirring. He can’t wait to show his dad. What else does he want to show. His drums. Theo wonders about his mom, wonders will she come. Where is she. Colin just said in a place like a hospital, just a place where people will take care of her for a while, help her feel better. Theo didn’t know she didn’t feel well.

Theo jams a hand in his hair and it’s stuck, fingers catching on tangles. He has a brush somewhere, in the bathroom he uses on the fourth floor. He runs around the attic, both hands in his hair, a bubble ready to pop. No words. Theo’s famished. He wants to see his dad.

When Adrian strolled in last night, Theo was asleep on a pile of towels in the ballroom, the adults scattered in a variety of rooms, a net of smoke hanging just under the ceiling, the ballroom doors open and the dogs lying half-in, half-out, under a bright moon. People were out on the terrace, some in the grass. Moaning. Theo woke, his stomach hurting, heard moaning and laughing, and then lots of noise, shouting. He pushed up from the towels, forgetting where he was then adjusting, remembering. He shook his head. All the lights were on in the ballroom, but only he and the dogs and Colin’s motorbike were there. Theo got up and slipped on a drumstick, which rolled out from under him, and he lost his balance. Ow. Hurt. He hopped for a minute, the dogs alert now, watching. The air was hot.

Theo wandered toward the noise from the house’s front, through the back hall, and in all the voices he heard him. His father. Theo bolted, and under the dim hall lights there he was, surrounded by people, arms around people, wearing big square sunglasses, with his satchel slung over his shoulder. He didn’t have on a shirt, but he did have a Rangers hockey jersey tied by the arms at his neck, like someone choking him. Adrian leaned hard on the people on either side of him, a lady taller than him and a bald man in a suit. So many voices, and the chess pieces a forest to weave through, upright and prone. Theo pushed a little, slipped between, and hesitated at the empty space around his dad. All the adults, talking. His dad swaying.

Here’s who I want to see: his dad noticed and bent a little scarily, the woman still holding on to help him keep his balance. Hello, sweetheart.

Theo’s dad was on his knees now, arms wrapped around Theo, hugging back, swimming in smells that make him dizzy,
sweet and odd, things he only smelled around his dad. Theo’s cheek felt Adrian’s sunglasses, pressing, and Adrian said bloody hell and tossed glasses sideways and off. Theo looked at his father, sunburned, unshaved, his eyes black dots. His breath. Maybe his dad was sick.

Theo baby, I missed you, mate. I love you.

Hi dad. Theo, a little groggy, just held on for the moment. Waking up.

I brought you some stuff, mate.

My butterflies are hatching. Theo rubbed his eyes, looking at the lady, standing and smiling down at him. She had on furry pants and a football jersey.

That’s brilliant, mate. This is my friend Shelley.

Hello, Theo, I’m glad to meet you. She held her hand down, had to stoop a little. Theo noticed her shoes were really thick. She was a giant.

Come on mate. Show you something.

Theo’s dad moved, stood up, but then he squatted again, as if his legs weren’t working right. Fuck it, Adrian said, and flopped over and on hands and knees began crawling over the black and white tiles.

Maybe it was a joke; Theo hoped it was a joke, so he got down on hands and knees too, and then so did Shelley, and then everyone else started dropping, following, except the man in the suit, who talked to another man, both looking and smiling but not crawling.

I like my suit, the man shrugged, smiling, and Theo realized the man was talking to him. Because Theo was looking back. Theo turned and crawled but his dad was up ahead somewhere and Theo was crawling and jostling among other people, like in a herd but not funny with people, just weird, and why were
they doing this. Theo stood up, scooted to the side among the crawlers, and the bald man in the suit and Theo walked behind along the hall. Lit camping lanterns glowed along the way – one of the things they bought on the trip to New Jersey after they burned all that stuff. Colin bought a tent and lanterns, and a bow and arrow. And bags and bags of candy. Theo had forgotten. His dad really liked candy. Chocolate. Dentists came to his hotel to fix his teeth. Theo was there once when his dad got a haircut and a dentist came. His dad said it was an emergency and he couldn’t go to the dentist’s office. Too complicated, mate.

Are you glad to see your dad, Theo.

Yes, of course. Who are you. Theo was tired and agitated now, his dad swept away.

My name is Silvio. I work with your father.

What do you play.

Silvio laughed. I don’t play anything, I’m pretty useless that way. I am president of the company that puts out your father’s records.

Is it like being president of a country.

A little bit, except without the army. I wish I had one at times. I help people hear your father’s music.

How do you do that.

Ah, my friend, that is a very tedious and long process I don’t want to bore you with. Let us just enjoy each other’s company. I believe your father has some surprises for you.

They were leaving the hall and entering one of the big downstairs rooms, the one Theo’s mom had been in when she was here. In the center of the room was a Christmas tree shooting almost to the ceiling, completely covered with tinsel and lights and wrapped gifts circled its bottom, enough
to build a wall. Theo’s father sat on his knees and everyone else scattered around, some standing again, but Shelley sat crosslegged beside him, holding his hand.

It’s not Christmas, Theo said. The lights in the dark dazzled, hurt a little, the tree a shape made of light. Where did you get all the lights.

What do you think, eh. Looks like a miracle to me.

It’s summer.

Yeah, but I thought we could have Christmas. The presents are for you. There’s a couple for you, baby: Theo’s dad leaned toward Shelley and she kissed him.

And of course some coal for Colin and a few things for me dad, who I hope is snug in his bed right now, dreaming of sugarplums.

The other people in the room milled around now. Theo was not sure what to do.

What do we do.

What do you mean, mate. It’s Christmas morning. Dive in.

Theo felt sad, and then felt bad for feeling sad. People looked at him. Some frowned, yawning. Others paid no attention.

What’s the matter, love. Every day’s Christmas when I’m with you. Why don’t you see what Father Christmas brought.

Theo walked toward the tree, flopped beside it.

When did this stuff come.

While you were asleep. Surprise, mate. Father Christmas managed to miss the expressway traffic. Found his way to Gatsby’s mansion. Did I tell you about this place: Adrian turned toward Shelley.

Theo sat, holding a wrapped box. Glitter on it fluttered off so the dark air sparkled. Adrian whispered into Shelley’s ear, his hand on her leg. Theo ripped at the paper and peeled to
get at a brown unmarked wood box about the size of shoes. It had a lid and he lifted. Inside was tissue, and in the tissue, a knife. A curved one with a handle that looked like an animal’s horn.

Hey, that’s what they give to young men in Tanzania when they come of age. It’s a symbol of manhood, made of oryx horn.

Theo laid it down in the box, put the lid on. Thanks.

Keep going. Happy Christmas, mate. Shelley helped with some of the presents.

Open that gold box: Shelley smiled at him, pointing at his feet, where a box in gold foil glowed. Theo reached down to grab it. It was heavy.

What is it.

Well, open it and find out. Shelley smiled at Theo, and Adrian grinned, looking at Shelley. Her teeth were really white. Theo felt funny when she looked at him, and he wanted to look at her. She looked like a movie. Lots of other people were looking at her too.

Theo opened the box, hard cardboard, the wrapping thin and tissuey, and it had Japanese or Chinese characters on it. Korean ones looked different, he knew. In the box was a doll or an animal, Theo wasn’t sure, and it was plastic.

Your dad said you like animals: Shelley was looking at him again. Her eyes were far apart. Turn it on.

It could be turned on. Theo lifted it, having to shake off the tight ribbed brown box with purple paper inside, more tissue. The thing had big eyes and a tail; it was white and had a black face that was round, and round ears.

It’s a monkey.

Theo saw that now. He turned it looking for buttons: at the bottom. He pushed a small switch to the side and the thing
squirmed in his hand. That tickles, it said in a high voice in English, and then it made a noise like a fart.

Theo was ready to like it and looked at Shelley to say thanks. She was kissing his father. This was his third Japanese robot from one of his dad’s friends. At least Shelley didn’t tell him how expensive it was like the last lady. It would make his dad happy if he acted happy about it.

Great. Thanks a lot.

Theo’s dad’s eyes were closed, then open. Hey mate, Shelley went to a lot of trouble to get that.

Thanks, Shelley.

So open some more. Happy Christmas. Adrian stared around at others, saying stuff, laughing. The man in the suit moved closer to Adrian, leaning to whisper. Both smiled.

Are there presents for you, Theo asked.

Sure mate, seeing you is the best gift I could possibly get. Go on, tear into it. Santa really took a shine to you. He knows you been brilliant.

It was hard to hear because someone turned on a radio or tape player and now there was music like you hear in Jamaica; Theo knew his father liked it. People laughed and pointed, poked and punched, wrapped arms around each other, some others were kissing, somebody was always screaming or yelling, Theo stared around, at the pile highlighted in the dark, shiny paper catching light as if it were wet. Would his father notice if he left. Colin’s voice lifted angrily, then it laughed. Where was Gus.

Can Gus help me open stuff.

Adrian now standing had an arm looped around the necks of two men, and his other arm around another lady, not Shelley, and in one hand a big black bottle. Theo’s dad always picked
Theo’s voice out of the sounds: yeah, son, sure. It’ll give him a charge. Where is he.

I’ll go find him.

Theo got up and pushed through the ring of adults until he reached empty space and ran. It was dark and he bumped into Mingus and two ladies standing close together. Mingus had his arms around them and he was wearing his pants and a cape and the ladies were touching his stomach.

Hey baby. What’s your mission.

Do you know where my grandfather is.

No I do not.

Theo ran on. He was not sure of the time; maybe Gus was asleep, like Theo had been. Gus slept more than Colin or Adrian. His dad sometimes didn’t sleep at all. Sometimes he just stayed up talking or Theo would hear music when he went to sleep and music when he got up. How do you make a record in a house. The big camper thing out front. Theo wanted to toss a ball. He wondered if his dad might tomorrow. His dad liked to kick more than throw, and Theo tried to remember where a soccer ball was. Theo called it soccer and Adrian called it football. So did Gus. There was a team in New York that he and Colin and his dad had gone to see play, the Cosmos, when Theo lived in Manhattan. There was a minder too, one he never saw again, and a driver. Colin started yelling at some men and he took his shirt off and tried to fight them and they had to leave before the end of the game. In the car afterward Colin stuck his head out the window and screamed until his voice was hoarse; his dad pulled him back into the limo’s back seat. Then Colin crawled out the window and over the roof and knocked on the other window, while the car was driving. Adrian laughed but was really mad, it seemed. The minder checked the door lock
and opened the window and reached out to hold Colin, who was yelling, and when his legs were in Adrian grabbed and yanked: get your bloody ass in here. Before the game Adrian bought Theo soccer jerseys and a ball and some kind of flag. They were in the attic somewhere.