Summer Accommodations: A Novel (27 page)

“What if we go to that field to throw a ball around after lunch. I'll throw you grounders and you throw me pop flies that I keep dropping. That way we can both poke around in the grass without looking like we're looking.”

“Why choose that place for a catch when no one ever goes there? That's the kind of action that would bring attention and that's just exactly what we're trying to avoid.” Recognizing my disappointment he added, “Anyway, we might pass out with all the cheap booze in the air. Let me take care of this and you keep on being a decoy at the Braverman's for a while until I think of an alternative place for you to search.” He looked off into space, pressed his lips together into a narrow line and then smiled. “I know that ring is still out there somewhere, Jack, I feel it and I just know it's there. And I am going to be the one who finds it, nobody else.”

“I know how strongly you feel about that,” I said, not admitting my own ambition to beat him to it, “but I was thinking that it really makes more sense for you to be the decoy and me to do the search in the field.” His brows pressed down on his eyes and frown lines appeared at the corners of his mouth.

“What are you talking about, didn't you hear what I said?”

“Of course I did, but look, if you're crawling around Heidi's yard,” I deliberately chose to make it Heidi's yard, not the Bravermans', “it would be no big deal, while I would have a harder time explaining my reason for being there. And anyway, people are much more curious about what you do than they are about me so if I go searching in that field it won't make other people start creeping around in the grass there too.” My logic seemed impeccable.

“No. That's not what I want to do. I told you how important it is for me to be the one who finds that ring. No, damn it, I'm the one who finds that ring, Jack, I am!” He was agitated and more upset than I thought reasonable, but I nodded my assent and dropped the discussion. We snuck back into our room without disturbing Ron and got ready to wash up for breakfast. I still was not sure that I'd relinquish my part in the quest. I hated the thought of being just a decoy, a dummy. But I endured it for two more mornings before it was abruptly called to a halt.

T
he break after lunch was usually our time to refresh our selves. There was maybe an hour or an hour and a half between breakfast and lunch and the dinner meal kept us in the dining room until dark so the mid-afternoon break was the only good opportunity for some recreation. In the first weeks I'd swim a bit and then retire to the basketball court and get in line to run in for lay-ups when the All Stars took a break or waited for them to finish practice so some of us could play a half-court game— three on three—but once Sarah came into my life I did these things less and less. A few times a week I'd go for a swim but I was usually so bone tired I'd jump into the shower after work and then rest on my bed with a book or a magazine. Sarah and I would be up late into the night talking and petting and exploring new sexual frontiers, activities we both preferred to other recreational choices. And for the past few mornings I'd been crawling around at dawn acting as a decoy in Harlan's search for his father's ring so I was even more sleep deprived than usual. Of course, I had not mentioned a word about meeting judge Crater to Ron who continued his pursuit of television journalists from New York to Boston in the hope of bringing a camera to the old well at the hotel. There were no takers and I told him that apart from writing letters to the editors of the Daily News, The Mirror, The New York Post, the Herald Tribune and the Times, I would have no more of it. In fact I had written only to the Post and the Mirror, not the other papers, and now saw no reason to do so. In fact, aware of how worried Harlan and his family were about the discovery of the judge's identity, I hoped no one would grant Ron's assertions credibility and respect. Why should they, he was wrong.

We were well into August and with an early Labor Day coming up, it would fall on September third, there wasn't much summer left to us. I was already thinking about starting school and planning trips upstate to visit Sarah at college once we were settled in and that softened the blow of having to trudge along yet again in Jerry and Steve's footsteps. The uniqueness of my first love, my Sarah, was my salvation.

I had showered and was in my underwear resting in bed reading a Life magazine when Harlan entered the room. His face was haggard and drawn and he was clearly distressed. He sat down on his bed, got up, lit a Lucky Strike, sat down again, and released a long, soughing sigh. There were tears in his eyes. “Are you all right?' I asked, startling him.

“Jesus, Jack, I didn't know you were up there.” With the cigarette dangling limply from his mouth he rubbed at his eyes with his fists to clear the tears, then rose and approached me. “It's my father, he's very ill.” He took a deep breath and sighed again. “I spoke with his doctor in Newburgh. He wants him in the hospital for treatment. He said there's an operation that could save his life but it would cost a lot of money, more than we have. Even if I put in all of my earnings, all of the money that was to pay for my tuition and room and board for my senior year at Harvard next year, we'd still be short. Damn it! If only I'd found that damn ring of his, it must be worth a few thousand dollars at least.”

“You mean you'd sell it?”

“I mean I'd do whatever I have to do to pay for that operation.” He wiped his face with his hand, walked over to his cot and stood with his back to me, his head slumped forward. The hallway became quiet as the ballplayers receded to the shower room and the sound of Harlan's breathing, the drafty sound of air rushing in and out of his nose, grew louder. His shoulders convulsed for an instant then slumped and I heard the breath of air that he inhaled ratcheting through the knot of muscle at his throat. He shook his head briskly, as if he'd just broken through the surface of a swimming pool and was ridding his face of water, then wiped at his brow with his hand. “Sorry,” he said.

“That five thousand dollar reward …”

“Out of the question. His life would be a living hell if his true identity were known. The reporters, the gossip columnists, the potential lawsuits from Mary, it would be hell.”

“I could let you borrow five, no six, six hundred dollars if you think that would help.” As soon as I said it I wished I could take it back. That money was meant for college and I couldn't afford to give it away but the wish to please Harlan could still take control of me.

“How much do you have in the bank now, six hundred? A thousand? How much do you have Jack?” Suddenly his face was barely a foot away from mine, his eyes wide, his gaze intense.

“About a thousand, but I can't let you have … I mean I can't lend you all of that money. It's for school.”

“What if I get it back to you before you need it for school? What if I promise you that your money will be in your hands the day you go to register for classes, would you trust me with your money then?”

“But if you could get it back to me that fast why would you have to borrow it in the first place?”

“This is an emergency! he shouted in his agitation. “Maybe I didn't make it clear enough to you, this is an emergency. He needs that operation soon, this week or next at the latest.”

“Can't you owe the money for a while? Do you have to pay for everything before he goes to the hospital?”

“Yes.” His voice softened and he looked away. “He could die in this operation, Jack. Doctors know that with a risk like that they may not get paid if the patient doesn't survive so the surgeon will want me to pay for this in advance. I have about seventeen hundred dollars. When you add it all up, the surgeon, the anesthetist, the hospital charges—he'll be there for a month or two—it'll cost four, maybe five thousand dollars. I just don't have enough.” He looked up at me through eyes dark with a terrible sadness. “I shouldn't be asking you for this, I know that, but it is my
father,
do you understand? Would you do any less for yours?” He buried his face in his hands and wept. I felt a terrible helplessness and didn't know what to do. “Forget it I can't take your money, Jack, you'll need it for school. It would be great if everyone were as generous as you are but, well, that's life isn't it? It's funny when you think about it; here we are, surrounded by tens of thousands of dollars in tips that were collected three and five dollars at a time, and just one small fraction of that could save my father's life. I suppose that's what makes life such an ironic form of torture.” Hearing those last words I felt guilty for not giving him my money, all of it, every penny.

Then, what he had said struck home to me. There was a small fortune stored in the local banks, the savings of the hundreds of waiters and busboys who served the guests at the mountain resort hotels. While five or six hundred dollars might be too much to ask of a person, twenty or even fifty dollars to save a man's life was certainly reasonable, maybe even possible. “What if I were to ask the guys in the dining room to donate to a fund to help pay for your father's surgery, you know, twenty or fifty dollars each. I bet even the Bravermans would be willing to donate …”

“I don't want the Braverman's involved in this. They already tell Heidi that I'm only interested in her for her money so don't say anything to them.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “You're a good friend Jack. That's a nice thought but I don't want my father's identity revealed, it would mean the end of his privacy forever.”

“Why would his name have to be anything other than Mr. Hawthorne just like you're Harlan Hawthorne.” He laughed and shook his head.

“You're right! I'm so focused on his being judge Crater I forget that that's a secret only a few of us know.” His smile faded again. “I don't know, I don't have that many friends in the dining room and I do seem to have some enemies. Ron, Abe, Spider and maybe even Sammy himself.”

“Ron yes, Abe maybe, but not Sammy, and I don't know who else you could be thinking of when you say enemies. Let me try to do this for you. I'm sure Sarah would be glad to help too.” If I was sure about anything it was that Sarah would see this as some kind of scheme on Harlan's part and definitely would not offer to help out.

“Sarah will tell Heidi and that will just bring the Bravermans into it. Don't tell Sarah. In fact I don't see how you can tell anyone without it becoming common knowledge that you're trying to raise money for my father's operation.” He paused, turned away, looked back at me and turned away again. “Of course! No, that wouldn't be right.”

‘What were you going to say?”

“Well, and I can't see how you could do it, if … no forget it, it would never work.”

“Goddamnit! Tell me your idea, Harlan, tell me the damned idea and let me decide if I think it can be done.”

“Okay, okay, calm down Jack. Well, what if we said you needed the money for your father's operation. Hell, people would be glad to help you.”

“I don't know, a lot of people here know my family, Sammy, Rudy, even the Bravermans themselves. It wouldn't take long for one of them, somebody, to call my parents or one of my brothers, I just don't see how we could get that to work.”

“Yeah, yeah I see the problem.” Once again his shoulders slumped as if finding the money was a weight that would crush him. Their showers over the ballplayers came back into the hallway, their boisterous commotion preceding their return up the narrow corridor. Harlan chuckled. “Boys being boys.” Then, suddenly, he grew sombre. “It requires tragedy to make men of boys.” His simple words landed upon me with the weight of the truth.

“Maybe that's what we need, a tragedy of some kind that people would be willing to give money for. But what could that be?”

“It's a good thought, but you're right; what could that be?” We searched each other's faces as though we might find an answer. “You know, if it was your tragedy we'd have no problem raising the money; people would gladly donate money for your problem.”

“Well, as I said, there'd be no way to keep people from calling my parents or my brothers if I said my father was sick.”

“No, no, I mean your problem—
you;
maybe we can get people to give money because you are the one who's got the tragic illness. The question then is how to keep it just among the waiters and busboys.” He frowned and furrowed his brow with the effort of his concentration.

“I know! It wouldn't be me, it would be me who's responsible. Say I got somebody pregnant and she needed to have an abortion and …”

“You could afford that Jack. It might cost some money but no more than any waiter or busboy has already put away.”

“But suppose there were complications, more hospital bills, more doctor bills, things like that, wouldn't that be a reason to raise the money and keep it a secret too?”

“And Sarah? You'd be willing to risk her hearing that story? I don't think you'd want that to happen. No, I'll just have to work something else out.” Again this burden seemed to crush him. “Well, at least I can lend you six hundred, no, make it seven hundred. I won't need that back right away because I should still have almost another five hundred by Labor Day and that will be more than enough for expenses for the first term. I would have to keep this from my parents, but, hell, it's my hard-earned money and I'll lend it whether or not they like it.” Harlan smiled at me and laid his hand over mine. Tears filled his eyes.

“I can't begin to tell you how much this means to me, Jack. I've always known you were a friend, a special guy and this really proves it. I won't let you down, I promise. I'll get the money back to you but I have to find a way to raise the rest. You give it some thought too, okay?”

“I will, Harlan, I'll think about a way maybe while I'm searching for the ring.” He grinned.

2.

Sarah did not meet me at the usual time that Wednesday night. The day camp counselors had scheduled an after-dinner party for their eight to eleven year old campers, something special to give these children a taste of the social excitement that their approaching puberty and adolescence would introduce them to in the near future, but a taste of the sweet expectations only. The bitter disappointments and rejections that each might confront in the coming years were thoughtfully excluded. Then, after the children skipped happily away home, the staff would clean up and begin the first of their year-end evaluations and reviews of how the summer had gone. Sarah had been happy with her work and with the youngsters she cared for and because she was recognized to be by nature a positive and generous spirit her comments, as was expected, were devoid of either cynicism or complaint. I knew this to be the case because she had read her comments to me just a few nights before and I marveled at her ability to keep focused on the loveable attributes and humanity of everyone she worked with. I was also a little hurt by her need to focus on these comments to the exclusion of any intimacy with me.

Returning to my room around nine o'clock and thinking it likely that Sarah was still involved in her meeting I showered and lay down for a nap hoping to stir myself around ten and go to meet her. Ron and Harlan had come and gone quickly and we'd barely spoken. The tension between them was very wearing and ever since meeting Sarah I had little interest in trying to mediate their dispute. Ron was accustomed to irritating people with his abrasive personality but Harlan, familiar only with my idolatrous side, seemed almost hurt by my suddenly flagging interest.

“Have I done something to upset you, Jack? You seem different with me, distant.”

“Really? No. I guess I'm just so into Sarah nothing else seems to be important to me. Did you ever feel that way with a girl? Does Heidi make you feel that way?” I saw his face set, a strange adjustment in the muscles and tone, subtle but distinct, a reaction he had whenever I tried to inquire about Heidi; it said to me “keep away from there.”

“I know what you're referring to, Jack, it's just that you can't allow any woman to become an obsession. That only alienates your friends and, before you know it, it alienates the woman too. Then you're left with nothing.” I was speechless. His response seemed disproportionate to what I'd said. So, I shrugged, nodded, faked a look of thoughtful surprise, cocked my head and left our room.