Theo (23 page)

No they’re not. They’re not anywhere.

They’ll turn up, pal.

How is my mother.

What, Theo. Adrian’s actually looking at him now, he sees his father focusing.

How is my mother. Theo wants his dad to listen and thinks he’ll hear this.

She’s fine, mate, she’s okay. They’re taking good care of her.

Can I see her.

Sure you can see her, we’ll figure out a time and go, eh.

What’s wrong with her.

She’s just sick.

Will she get better.

Adrian lets go of the two people and bends over and steadies himself and kisses Theo on the forehead and puts his hand on the side of Theo’s face, the hand hot. He feels the callouses on Adrian’s fingers as Adrian tucks Theo’s hair behind his ear.

I love you mate, and she does too, and we’re all going to be fine. She just needs some rest, mostly and some medicine, a little fucking peace and quiet.

Adrian usually doesn’t say that word when he talks to Theo. Therapy medicine or medicine medicine, Theo wonders.

Do you want to see the butterflies.

I promise, mate, soon as we get things Bristol fashion here, I want to see butterflies. You find me wherever I am and we’ll go see them.

Is your head okay: does it hurt. Theo’s looking up at him.

No more than usual: Adrian straightens again, smiling down in his goofy way, and tilts his head back and laughs. Ah, it is great to be alive, isn’t it.

First. The bald man is raising his eyebrows at Adrian, the plate elsewhere now.

Yeah, yeah. Let’s go find the phone.

Adrian lets go of the man and the lady: You’re on your own. Adrian takes their hands and puts them together: I now pronounce you. Then he walks down the back hall with the bald man.

The man and lady wander toward food, not looking at Theo, who doesn’t know where to go, in trees again, unnoticed. Until someone notices him and looms up at him or swoops down on him, to rub or pat or poke or ask a weird question breathing on him. Or try to tickle. Where’s Mingus. Where’s Colin. Where’s Gus. It’s crowded and loud. Music kicks up from a tape player in the ballroom: old-time music Theo knows is jazz, with a clarinet. Who put that on. Colin’s in the ballroom yelling now, in from outside: I want a cup of tea.

All the voices: You just have to tighten up and get through it Some parts of it are okay Anything you like Okay so there’s police Don’t want to have none of this down below zero any more and then there are their bosses And there’s juice And if there’s a rule But not always I love the ocean man I have a bra but I forgot to put my glasses on A lot better since I got out of the joint Terrible eyes one four five progression two tone suede and she put it in her mouth Got anymore Say what Let’s go take a taste and you can tell me that again Pretend he’s dead and you’ve never left I just need a thousand to finish this I need ketchup Tell you what I’m flying there’s only two ways to leave And she gives it one of these –

Theo’s trapped, the kitchen crowded, a tide of people, finishing first platefuls and back for more, more people because of Roger. He doesn’t know how many are in his house now, and it feels weird to call it his house because he can’t even see anything familiar, everything covered with bodies and where are the dogs.

He hopes they’re just shy – and someone saying police. What about police.

Theo pushes through and out the back end of the kitchen and past the pantry and down the hall, the welter of sound following him down the narrow channel of the hall like water in a tight chute.

Gus’s at the front door in a towel, like a sheet-draped chair, so wide and stable, bottom heavy, with legs sticking out and long feet on the ends. Two ladies and a man Theo hasn’t seen before are behind Gus, the ladies and man in bathing suits, the ladies both wearing cowboy hats, just standing and scratching themselves and staring at the men in suits at the door. Immigration, Theo hears. Documents. Status, confirming, probation. Who do they want. Visa. Resident. Do they want him. His stomach. Who’s in trouble.

Theo thinks of school, of desks in rows, kids with heads bent over paper, the teacher at a desk, bent but looking up every now and then. The weather board with sun and numbers on it. A girl scratching her leg without looking. Windows tilted inward, and outside, steady low hum of traffic, birds.

Theo walks up to Gus and stands a little behind him and touches his arm. Gus looks down to locate what touched him – Theo thinks of the horse and how automatically it twitches, without thinking – and, focusing, notices Theo, then winks one eye at him but he’s not smiling, and swivels back to the men in the door; who are sweating. Gus’s mustache is wet, and he’s smoking his pipe. Theo looks through the men at the light brown gravel circle and the big horseshoe arms of the long straight driveway, and the cars, the black car they must have come in, and the mobile recording truck, its main cable up the steps and off through the hall somewhere to the right,
the other side of the house. And a new one, a long red vein. Where does it go: Theo decides to follow it, the black cable snake. Maybe it’s got the dogs and they need help. He weaves off, leaving the voices.

He follows the snake into the hall, dark, then there is stained glass, an angel, and the seraglio, full of cushions, near the Christmas tree room, and his dad’s in there bent over on a cushion with a lady rubbing his back, his head’s hanging, and the bald man is talking to another man, a young one who might be a musician, Theo’s seen him somewhere, both with arms folded, and the snake disappears here into a sound board and a small city of equipment. His dad’s head. But there’s no phone in here. The bald man notices Theo and walks over.

Your dad’s not feeling well. Let’s give him a chance to rest for a minute.

Is it his head. What’s wrong with him: Theo’s voice rises. His mom and his dad resting. Is it his head. We need to get a doctor or take him to a hospital.

The bald man smiles down at him. He’s fine, he’s just taking some medicine that makes him a little drowsy, so he’s just resting for a bit until the medicine –

Dad, Theo calls across the room. The woman looks over with an empty face, she doesn’t really have an expression, and maybe doesn’t really even see Theo, it’s hard to tell what she’s seeing. Theo feels a hand – the bald man’s saying, we have to leave him alone, let him rest and not talk, okay. You can talk to him in just a few minutes when Roger gets here. He’ll be fine.

He’s my dad, I want to talk to him.

Honey, he’s very tired. He needs a little quiet right now: the bald man bends in front of Theo now so he can look into his eyes – and block him too, Theo thinks. You’re a good son. I’d
like to have a son like you. Let’s give him a few minutes to himself.

That lady’s here, and you’re here. Does everyone have to go or just me.

Theo felt fierce looking up, mean, and nervous: What’s the matter with him, does he have the same thing as my mother. Does that mean I’ll get it too.

The bald man, still squatting, puts his hand on Theo’s head but Theo ducks away. Theo, he hasn’t had a lot of rest lately, son. He’s just left Australia and he hasn’t slept for a couple of days. It’s all just hitting him now. Mostly what he needs is time to himself, with no one pulling on him. Your father’s –

You just want me out of here. Why. What’s wrong with my dad.

He has a lot of work to do, and Roger’s coming, and he took some medicine and he’s in need of a little lie down.

Theo notices there’s a bodyguard-minder guy he hadn’t seen before, a large guy in black shirt and pants also here, along with the other people. Maybe that’s where magic comes from – a man can appear from nowhere, if you want to believe it. Magic’s just the world without science books, Theo’s dad always says, and there’s more to this world than meets the eye, pal, and that’s why music works, it gives us a way to ride that spirit, and then he always winks. Winking’s so corny but Adrian still does it. Like Gus.

Theo ducks around the bald man who’s extending an arm and runs to Adrian, who’s bent over still, sagging against the woman, who Theo’s never seen and who has long earrings with feathers on them and short hair. She looks like an elf. She watches him out of big lemur eyes, lids slowly going up and down in a blink.

Dad, are you okay. You want to go to bed. I can help you.

His dad mumbles a little. Something that sounds like Theo. Bent over, his dad says, mokay. Little rest period, mate. Mget straight here. Loveyou.

It’s like he’s under a spell. Did you do something to him, Theo says to the lady. She says, no, man, the world did.

What does that mean.

One day you’ll understand, when you’re older.

Why does everyone always say that. I’m not a little kid.

Come on, my friend: the bald man’s hand is on Theo’s shoulder. Theo looks at his dad’s hands, limp as empty gloves. They’re bony, spidery, crabby, like a skeleton, long fingers pointing down. Theo grabs one: it’s cool. Come on, dad, let’s get to bed. Theo didn’t know where he would take his father except away. The lady and the bald man both now have hands on Theo, gently but definitely there. Let him sit, Theo, he’s not ready to walk.

Adrian’s squeezing: Mokay. Justresting. A minute. Ready to play. Off and on.

Theo ducks away from the hands and runs for Gus: Gus. His grandfather. His dad is Gus’s son. He’ll want to help. Theo dodges people down the dark hall and the entrance hall is empty now, doors closed, sun from the side windows in white bars on the tile. What is happening. Theo grabs both doors and yanks, and the heavy wood swings inward. Outside, the policemen in suits lean against the black car. Where’s Gus.

A black limousine’s nosing its way down the driveway, and past the policemen, who bend and stare into the limo’s tinted windows in back as it glides, hands on belts and waists like cowboys ready to draw. Theo sees Roger driving and smiling, and two other people, a man and a woman in sunglasses sitting beside him in the front. Roger’s got a beard now. He’s slowing
the long car down until it’s stopped sideways near the steps. Maybe Roger can help.

Roger opens the door and gets out, flashing his twisted smile at Theo. Roger’s wearing a floppy white hat like old men at the pier wear when they fish, and he’s in a blue suit with sneakers and no socks. He reaches for the rear door and opens it, and a man in a chauffeur’s uniform gets out, holding a black bottle of champagne by the neck. He’s wearing gloves.

The man and the lady are still sitting in the front seat. They both yawn at the same time. Roger is walking up the steps, smiling, and he bends down and gives Theo a kiss. Hey, man. Can we come in.

My dad’s sick or something. But they won’t let me help him.

Roger has a funny expression, his face now cloudy: he’s angry. We’ll sort that out, don’t worry. He’ll be okay. I know what he’s got.

Can you help him.

Roger’s stopped listening: I brought some people. Roger’s mouth is funny: there’s something green on one of his front teeth.

What’s the matter with your tooth.

Roger smiled: It’s an emerald, but people just think I’ve got spinach on my tooth. I’m having it taken out next week.

The man and the lady are standing behind Roger now, like ghosts, pale and dressed all in black, black suits with long sleeves. They look alike: both have yellow hair, slicked back. The police are staring.

Who are they, Roger asks.

I think they’re police or something. They talked to Gus.

Roger looks at the starers and yawns again, shivering all over. Let’s get inside.

The sunheated flags of the front steps are hot under Theo’s feet. The two ghosts are barefooted.

These are my friends. Paolo and Giulia. A prince and princess.

Really.

Yeah – they come from a very old family that ruled one of the Italian kingdoms before the Risorgimento.

What does that mean.

Italy was once just a collection of individual kingdoms. It only became a country in the nineteenth century.

They look alike.

They’re twins. Andiamo.

The man and lady glide up the steps, sniffing. They stop and smile down at Theo.

Caro mio.

The lady’s lips are very red and her skin so thin Theo sees veins in it. She sort of pats him while she looks into the house and moves up the steps.

The man’s slipping off his sunglasses and looking around solemnly, and says, howdy, partner. He points a finger like a gun at Theo and follows the lady and Roger.

Theo walks down the steps to the long car and shuts the doors. The police watch and smile at him, the way the kids in school smile right before they sneak up on someone to pull down his pants in front of a girl, or trip him onto asphalt. Theo runs up the steps and inside.

Roger and the Italians melt into the dark hall, swallowed in people – Roger’s a sun and there are always planets circling around and around. The Italians are cats, sleepy and sleek and boneless, they move like smoke or water, they ripple. Theo’s standing, staring. Someone’s taking pictures. Someone’s always taking pictures but especially when Roger’s around.

Theo: Roger’s calling back. Where’s Adrian.

He’s sick.

I know. Where is he. I need to talk to him.

He needs rest.

Theo hears Roger ask someone, who’s here. And a voice says names. The doors are open, and green and sun are the other way, and the house looks like a cave and all those people on their way into some dark place away from light, down a slope and Theo wants to go out, away from the cave, so he does. But he doesn’t know what to do. It’s afternoon. He’s tired of having to talk to adults; it feels like what a job is.

Outside Theo sees the policemen at the car Roger left, their heads against the glass and hands blocking out the light: What are you looking at, Theo calls.

One turns: Nothing, just looking. The others ignore Theo.

Theo bounces down the steps, stands next to them. He notices small guns in brown holsters on two belts. One is fat and sweating a lot: Fuck off.

It’s my house, Theo says, blushing.

Fuck off yourself, you bullying cunt – Colin is in the door, flanked by two minders. When did they come. People are always appearing and disappearing. Magic tricks.