CHAPTER 28

  Themostmercilessthingintheworldislove.Whenloveflees,allthatremainsismemorytopensate.Ourfriendswereeithergoingoheirghoststhebestourpoormindscouldjuretofilllovesabsence.Iamhauhisdaybyallthosewhoaremissing.LosingKivi,Blomma,Ragno,andZanzaraprovedheartbreakingforSpeck,too.Shewentabouthertasksgrimaermined,asifbystayingbusyshecouldkeepphantomsatbay.

  Afterthedisasterinthemine,wedeposedBékawithhissent,andthediminishedelectedSmaolachournewleader.Welivedabovegroundforthefirsttimeinyears,boundtoonesmallclearingintheforestbyChavisorysimmobility.Theimpulsetogobaeateatusall.Fiveyearshadpassedsincewehadleftourcamp,ahoughtitmightbesafetoreturtimeanyonehadseenourformerhome,thegroundshadbeendenuded,butsurelynewgrowthhadbegun—whereblackashhadbeen,saplingsshouldbeingupamidthewildflowersandfreshgrass.Justasnaturereclaimsitsruins,thepeople,too,wouldhavefottenaboutthatboylostintheriverawofaeriesfoundinthemarket.Theydwantlifetoremainastheythoughtithadbeen.

  Withitsafetotravelagain,Luchóg,SmaoladIsetout,leaviherthreebehindatourmakeshiftcamptowatchoverChavisory.Althoughthewindblewcoldthatday,ourspiritsquiedattheprospectofseeingouroldhauntsagain.Weracedlikedeeralorails,laughingasonepassedtheother.Theoldcampshimmeredininationsasapromisehtredemption.

  Climbiernridge,Ihearddistantlaughter.Weslowedourpudaswereachedthelip,thesoundsbelowpiquedourcuriosity.ThevalleycameintoviewthroughthebrokenveiloftreelimbsandbranchesRowsofhousesandopenlawnssnakedandcurledalongribbonsofroadways.Ospotwhereourcamphadbeen,fivenewhousesfaopencircle.Anothersixsatohersideofawideroadcutthroughthetrees.Brangofffromthattrail,morestreetsandhousesfloweddowntheslopinghilltothemainroadintotown.

  "Beiteversohumble,"Luchógsaid.

  Ilookedfaraheadandsawbustlingactivity.Fromthebackofastationwagon,awomanunloadedpackagestiedupwithbows.Twoboystossedafootball.Ayellowcar,shapedlikeabug,chuggedupawindingroad.WecouldheararadiotalkingabouttheArmy-Navygame,andamanmutteringcursesasheringoflightsbeheeavesofhisroof.MesmerizedbyallIsaw,Ifailedtonoticeasdaygavewaytonight.Lightswentoninthehomes,asifonsuddensignal.

  "Shallweseewholivesonthering?"Luchógasked.

  Wecreptdowntothecircleofasphalt.Twoofthehomesappearedempty.Theotherthreeshowedsignsoflife:carsinthedriveways,lamplitfigurescrossingbehindthewindowsasifrushingoffonvitaltasks.Glangineadothesamestoryunfolding.Awomaninakitstirredsomethinginapot.Anotherliftedahugebirdfromtheoven,whileinanadjoiningroomamanstaredatminusculefiguresplayinggamesinaglowingbox,hisfaceflushediementer.His-dhborsleptinaneasychair,oblivioustothenoiseandflickeringimages.

  "Helooksfamiliar,"Iwhispered.

  Coveredtohistoesierrycloth,ayoungchildsatinasmallcageintheeroftheroom.Heplayeddistractedlywithbrightlycoloredplastictoys.Foramoment,Ithoughtthesleepingmanresembledmyfather,butIcouldnotuandhowhecouldhaveanotherson.Awomanwalkedfromoneroomintotheother,andherlongblondehairtrailedbehindlikeatail.Shescheduphermouthintoabowbeforebendingdownandwhisperingsomethingtotheman,anameperhaps,andhelookedstartledandslightlyembarrassedtobecaughtsleeping.Whenhiseyespoppedopen,helookedevenmorelikemyfather,butshewasdefinitelynotmymother.Sheflashedacrookedsmileandliftedherbabyoverthebars,andthechildcooedandlaughedandthrewhisarmsaroundhismothersneck.Ihadheardthatsoundbefore.Themanswitchedoffthesole,butbeforejoinihers,hecametothewindow,clearedacirclewithhistwohandsagainstthedamppanes,andpeeredoutintothedarkness.Idonotthinkhesawus,butIsurelyhadseenhimbefore.

  Wecircledbatothewoodsandwaiteduntilthemoonwashighinthenightskyandmostofthelightspoppedoffgoodnight.Thehousesintheringweredarkandquiet.

  "Idontlikethis,"Isaid,mybreathvisibleinthevioletlight.

  "Youworryyourownlifeawaylikeakittenworriesastring,"Smaolachsaid.

  Hebarked,andwefollowedhimdowntothecul-de-sac.Smaolachchoseahousewithnothedriveway,wherewewerenotlikelytoenteranyhumans.Carefulnottowakeanyone,weslippedinsideeasilythroughtheunlockedfrontdoor.Arowofshoesstoodofftothesideofthefoyer,andLuchógimmediatelytriedonpairsuntilhefoundafit.Theirboywouldbedismayedinthem.Thekitlayinsightofthefoyer,throughasmallishdiningroom.Eachofusloadedarucksackwithedfruitsaables,flour,salt,andsugar.Luchógjammedfistfulsofteabagsintohistrouserpocketsandonthewayoutcoppedapackageofcigarettesandaboxofmatchesfromthesideboard.Inandoutinminutes,disturbingnoone.

  Thesedhouse—wherethebabyinbluelived—provedstubborn.Allofthedoorsanddownstairswindowswerelocked,sowehadtoshimmyuhecrawlspadintoaclosetlikeroomthatshelteredamazeofplumbing.Byfollowingthepipes,weeventuallymadeourwayintotheinteriorofthehouse,endingupinthecellar.Tomakeourselvesquieter,welookoffourshoesahemaroundournecksbeforesneakingupthestepsandslowlyopeningthedoortothekit.Theroomsmelledofrememberedbread.

  WhileSmaoladLuchógraidedthepantry,Itiptoedthroughtheroomstolocatethefrontdoorandaneasyexit.Onthewallsofthelivingroomhungagalleryofphotographicportraitsthatreadmainlyasuingshadows,butasIpassedbyone,illuminatedbyawhiteshaftofmoonlight,Ifroze.Twofigures,ayoungmotherandherinfantchild,liftedtohershouldertofacethecamera.Thebabylookedlikeeveryotherbaby,roundandsmoothasabuttoherdidnotstaredirectlyintothelensbutwatchedhersonfromtheersofhereyes.Herhairstyleandclothingsuggestedanotherera,ahherbeguilingsmileandhopefulgaze,appearedhardlymorethanachildwithachild.Sheliftedher,asifpreparingtoburstoutlaughingwithjoyatthebabeinarms.Thephotographtriggeredarushofchemicalstomybrain.Dizzyanddisoriented,Iknew,butcouldnotplace,theirfaces.Therewereotherphotographs—alongwhitedressstandioashadow,amaninapeakedcap—butIkeptingbaotherandchild,putmyfingersontheglass,tracedthetoursofthosefigures.Iwaoremember.Foolishly,Iwenttothewallandturhelamp.

  Someonegaspedijustasthepicturesonthewalljumpedintoclarity.Twoolderpeoplewithsevereeyeglasses.Afatbaby.ButIcouldseeclearlythephotographthathadsoentrancedme,andbesideitanotherwhichdisturbedmemore.Therewasaboy,eyesskyward,lookingupiionofsomethingunseen.Hecouldnothavebeehahetimethepicturewastaken,andhadthesnapshotnotbeeninbladwhite,Iwouldhavesonizedhisface.Foritwasmine,andme,inajacketandcap,eyesawaiting—what?asnowfall,atossedfootball,aVofgeese,handsfromabove?Whatastrahingtohappentoalittleboy,toenduponthewallofthisunfamiliarhouse.Themanandwomanintheweddingpictureofferednoclues.Itwasmyfatherwithadifferentbride.

  "Aniday,whatareyoudoing?"Luchóghissed."Hushthoselights."

  Amattresscreakedoverheadassomeooutofbed.Isnappedoffthelightsandscrammed.Thefloorboardsmoaned.Awomansvoicemutteredinahigh,impatienttone.

  "Allright,"themanreplied."Illgocheck,butIdidhing."Heheadedfortheupperstairway,tookthestepsslowlyonebyoriedthebackdooroutofthekitbutcouldnotfigureoutthelock.

  "Thedamhingwontbudge,"Smaolachsaid.

  Theapproagfigurereachedthebottomlanding,switchedonthelight.Hewentintothelivingroom,whichIhaddepartedsedsearlier.Luchógfussedwitharotatingbarandunlockedthedeadboltwithasoftclick.Wefrozeatthesound.

  "Hey,whosthere?"themansaidfromtheotherroom.Hepaddedourwayinhisbarefeet.

  "Fuckall,"saidSmaoladheturheknobandpushed.Thedooropenedsixihungfastbyasmallmetalaboveourheads."Letsgo,"hesaid,andwegedtosqueezethroughthegaponebyone,scatteringsugarandflourbehindus.Iamsurehesawthelastofus,forthemancalledout"Hey"again,butweweregone,ragacrossthefrostylawn.Thefloodlightpoppedonlikeaflashbulb,butasseditscircleofillumination.Fromthetopoftheridge,wewatchedallhisroomslightupinsequeillthewindowsglowedlikerowsofjack-o-lanterns.Adogbegantoyowlmadlyinthemiddleofthevillage,aookthatasasigreathome.Thegroundchilledourbarefeet,but,exhilaratedasimps,weescapedourtreasures,laughinguhecoldstars.

  Atthetopoftheridgeline,Luchógstoppedtosmokeoneofhispurloinedcigarettes,andIlookedbaelasttimeattheorderedvillagewhereourhomeusedtobe.Thisistheplacewhereithadallhappened—areachforwildhoneyhighinatree,astretchofroadwaywherethecarstruckadeer,aclearingwhereIfirstopenedmyeyesandsawelevendarkchildren.Butsomeonehaderasedallthat,likeawordoraline,andinthatspacewroteanothersenteheneighborhoodofhousesappearedtohaveexistedinthisspacefes.Itmadeonedoubtonesownstory.

  "Thatmanbackthere,"Isaid,"thesleepingone.Heremindedmeofsomeone."

  "Theyalllookaliketome,"Luchógsaid."SomeoneIknow.Orknew."

  "Coulditbey-lostbrother?"

  "Ihaventone."

  "Perhapsamanwhowroteabookyoureadinthelibrary?"

  "Idonotknowwhattheylooklike."

  "Perhapsthemanwhowrotethatbookyoucarryfromplacetoplace?"

  "No,notMes.IdonotknowMes."

  "Amanfromamagazine?Aphotographintheneer?"

  "SomeoneIknew."

  "Coulditbethefireman?Themanyousawatthecreek?"Hepuffedonhiscigaretteandblewsmokelikeanoldsteamengine.

  "Ithoughtitmightbemyfather,butthattberight.Therewasthatstrangewomanandherchildinthebluesuit."

  "Whatyearisit,littletreasure?"Luchógasked.

  Itcouldhavebeen1972,althoughintruth,Iwasnolongersure.

  "Bynow,youmustbeayoungmaheendofthirtyyears.Andhowoldwasthemaniurewindow?"

  "Idguessaboutthesame."

  "Andhowoldwouldhisfatherbe?"

  "Twicethat,"Isaid,andsmiledlikeanidiot.

  "Yourfatherwouldbeanoldmanbynow,almostasoldasIam."

  Isatdownonthecoldground.SomuchtimehadpassedsinceIhadlastseenmyparents;theirrealagewasarevealedmystery.

  Luchógsatdownbesideme."Afterawhile,everyonefets.Iotpaintyouapictureofmydearyouth.Theoldmemoriesarenotreal—justfiguresinafairytale.Mymammycouldwalkrightuptomethisveryminuteandsay,Sonny-boy,andIwouldhavetosay,Sorry,Idontknowyou,lady.Myfathermayaswellbeamyth.So,yousee,inaway,youhavenofatherormother,orifyoudid,youwouldntknowthemanylonger,northeyyou,moresthepity."

  "Butthefellowfallingasleepinthearmchair?IfItryhard,Irecallmyfathersface."

  "Mightaswellbeanyone.Orall."

  "Andthebaby?"

  "Theyrealloome.Abotherwithhbutallthetimehungry.twalk,ttalk,tshareasmoke.Youhavethem.Somesayagelibetisababy—thereslesstolearn—butthatsmovingbackwardacrosstime.Youshouldbegoingforward.Andheavenhelpusifweeverhadababytolookafterforawholetury."

  "Idonotwanttostealanychild.Ijustwonderwhosebabythatis.peomyfather?Whereismymother?"

  Tomakeitthroughthecoldseason,weenblasandahalf-dozenchildrenscoatsfromtheSalvationArmystore,aesmallmeals,subsistingmainlyoeasbrewedfrombarkandtwigs.InthedulllightofJanuaryandFebruary,weoftendidnotstiratall,butsataloneorinclumpsoftwoorthree,drippiorstonecold,waitingforthesunandtheresumptionofourlives.Chavisrewstrongerbyandby,ahewildonionsandfirstdaffodilsappeared,shecouldtakeafewstepswithbragassistance.Eachday,Speckpushedheronepainfulpaceforward.Whenshewaswellenoughforustomove,wefledthatmiserabledungheapofmemories.Despitetherisks,wefoundamoresuitablehiddenhomenearwater,amileorsonorthofthenewhouses.Onwindynights,thenoisesfromthefamiliescarriedasfarasourne,andwhilenotassecluded,itaffordedusadequateprote.Asweduginthatfirstday,restlessnesssweptoverme.Smaolachsatdownbesidemeanddrapedanarmayshoulders.Thesunwasfallingfromthesky.

  "Nímarasíltearabítear,"hesaid.

  "Smaolach,ifIlivetobeathousandyears,Illneveruandyouroldlanguage.SpeakEnglishtome."

  "Areyouthinkingofourfriends,lateandlameheyrebetteroffwheretheyareandnotsufferingthiseternalwaiting.Oristheresomethingelseonyourmind,littletreasure?"

  "Haveyoueverbeeninlove,Smaolach?"

  "Ondonlyohankgoodness.Wewereclose,likeeverymotherandson."

  "Luchógsaidmymotherandfatheraregone."

  "Idontremembermuchofher.Thesmellofwool,maybe,andaharshsoap.Mintonthebreath.AhugebosomuponwhichIlaidmy...No,thatsnht.Shewasarakeofawoman,allskinandbones.Idontrecall."

  "Everyplaceartofmedisappears."

  "Now...myfather,therewasastrappingfellowwithabigblackmoustachecurledupattheends,ormaybeitwasmygrandfather,etothinkofit.Wasalongtimeago,andImnotreallysurewhereitwasorwhen."

  Thedarknesswasplete.

  "Thatsthewayoflife.Allthingsgooutandgivewaytooher.Tisntwisetobetooattachedtoanyworldoritspeople."

  MystifiedbySmaolachsphilosophy,Itotteredofftomyurnedoverthefacts,andlookedatwhatcrawledbeh.Itriedtopicturemymotherandfather,andcouldnotrecalltheirfacesortheirvoices.Rememberedlifeseemedasfalsetomeasmyheseshadowsarevisible:thesleepingman,thebeautifulwoman,andtheg,laughingchild.Butjustasmuchofreallife,notmerelyreadaboutinbooks,remainsunknowntome.Amothersalullabytoasleepychild.Amanshufflesadeckofcardsanddealsahandofsolitaire.Apairofloversunbuttoherandtumbleintobed.Unrealasadream.

  IdidnotfesstoSmaolachthereasitation.Speckhadallbutabandonedourfriendship,withdrawingintosomehardandlonesomecore.Evenafterwemadethemove,shedevotedherselftomakingournefeellikehome,andshespentthesunlithoursteagChavisorytowalkagain.Exhaustedbyherefforts,Speckfellintoadeepsleepearlyeaight.ShestayedinherburrowoncoldaMarchdays,tragoutanintricatedesignonarolledpart,andwhenIaskedheraboutherdrawing,shestayedquietandaloof.Earlyms,Idseeheratthewesternedgeofcamp,cladinherwarmestcoat,sturdyshoesonherfeet,pthehorizon.Irememberapproagherfrombehindandplagmyhandonhershoulder.Forthefirsttimeever,sheflimytoudwheurofaceme,shetrembledasifshakingofftheurgetocry.

  "Whatsthematter,Speck?Areyouokay?"

  "Ivebeenwtoohard.Theresosnowontheway."Shesmiledandtookmyhand."Wellstealoffatthefirstflurries."

  Whenthesnowfinallycamedayslater,Ihadfallenasleepunderapileofblas.Shewokeme,whiteflakesgatheringinherdarkhair."Itstime,"shewhisperedasquietlyasthedelicatesusurrusthroughthepines.SpedImeanderedalongfamiliartrails,takingcaretobehidden,andwaitedattheedgeoftheforesthelibraryfordusktoarrive.Thesnowfallobscuredthesun’sdest,andtheheadlightsofthefewcarsontheroadtrickedusintogoingtoosoon.Wesqueezedintoourspalytohearfootfalloverheadasthelibrariaocloseforthenight.Tostaywarmandquiet,wehuddledbehabla,andshequicklyfellasleepagaiherhythmofherbeatiandrespiration,afromherskin,quicklylulledmetosleep,too,andwewoketogetherinpitchblack.Shelitthelamps,atoourbooks.

  SpeckhadbeenreadingFlanneryOor,andIwaswadingierwithWallaceStevens.ButIcouldnottrateonhisabstras,andiaredatherbetweenthelines.Ihadtotellher,butthewordswereie,inplete,andperhapsinprehensible—ahingelsewoulddo.Shewasmyclosestfriendintheworld,yetagreaterdesireformorehadapaniedmearoundforyears.Icouldnotrationalizeorexplainitawayforanothermoment.SpeckwasengrossedinTheVioleAway.Abentarmproppedupherhead,andshewaslyingacrossthefloor,herhairobsgherface.

  "Speck,Ihavesomethingtotellyou."

  "Justamoment.Onemoresentence."

  "Speck,ifyoucouldputdownthatbookforased."

  "Almostthere."Shestuckherfiweenthepagesandclosedthenovel.

  Shelookedatme,andinoneseymoodswungfromelationtofear."Ihavebeenthinkingforalong,longtime,Speck,aboutyou.IwanttotellyouhowIfeel."

  Hersmilecollapsed.Hereyessearchedmyrelentlessgaze."Aniday,"sheinsisted.

  "Ihavetotellyouhow—"

  "Dont."

  "Tellyou,SpeuchI—"

  "Please,dont,Henry."

  Istopped,openedmymouthtoformthewords,andstoppedagain."Whatdidyousay?"

  "IdontknowthatIhearthatrightnow."

  "Whatdidyoucallme?"

  Shecoveredhermouth,asiftorecapturetheescapedname.

  "YoucalledmeHenry."Thewholestoryunraveledinaninstant."Thatsme,ImHenry.Thatswhatyousaid,isntit?"

  "Imsosorry,Aniday."

  "Henry.NotAniday.HenryDay."

  "HenryDay.Youwerentsupposedtoknow."

  TheshockofthenamemademefetwhatIhadplaellher.Myriadthoughtsaionspetedinmymind.Images,solutionstoassortedpuzzlesandriddles,andunansweredquestions.Sheputdownherbook,crossedtheroom,andwoundmeinherembrace.Fortheloime,sheheldontome,rogandsoothingmyfeveredimaginationwiththelightesttouch,caressingawaythechaos.

  Andtheoldmemystory.Thestorytoldinthesepageswasallshecouldremember.Shetoldmewhatsheknew,andmyrecollesofdreams,visions,andentersfilledi.Shetoldmewhytheykeptitallsecretforsolong.Howitisbetternottoknowwhoyoureallyare.Tetthepast.Erasethename.Allthisrevealedinapatientandheavenlyvoitileverythingthatcouldbeansweredwasanswered,nodesireleftunsatisfied.Thedlesbur,wehadtalkedsolong,andintodarkheversationlasted,athingIrememberisfallingasleepinherarms.

  Ihadadreamthatweranawaythatnight,foundaplacetogrowuptogether,becamethewomanandthemanweweresupposedtobe.Inthedream,shekissedmymouth,andherbareskinslidbehmyfiips.Ablackbirdsang.Butinthem,shewasnotwhereIexpectedhertobe.Infriendship,shehadneverwrittenasinglewordtome,butbymyside,wheresheshouldhavebeen,layanoteinherhandwriting.Everyletterisetchedinmind,andthoughIwillnotgiveitallaway,attheee,"Goodbye,HenryDay."

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