The Distance Between Us (22 page)

I search her face in surprise. Am I reading her correctly?

“Dear God.” I raise my eyebrows. “You’re jealous of him.”

She blinks. “Don’t be absurd.”

I laugh. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been giving him such a hard time in class. You’re actually jealous of our friendship.” I laugh again. “That’s rather sweet, darling. I’m flattered.”

Her hands tighten on the handle of her grocery cart, and her cheeks redden. “If you think for a moment I care one way or another about the sick little
Harold and Maude
relationship you’ve got going on with Alex Pearl, you’re delusional,” she grates. “Perhaps you should consider a move into the Alzheimer’s wing of an assisted living facility, after Dad finally takes the house away from you.”

It’s odd, but for once my own temper doesn’t flare in response to hers. I simply watch her carefully, as my amusement at her resentment of Alex deepens.

“Surely you’re not really suggesting Alex and I are having an affair?” I throw back my head and almost shriek with delight. “Oh, my. You should mention that to him when he gets back, dear. He’ll turn green and begin to projectile vomit at the very notion.”

The more I think about it, the funnier it gets, especially because my daughter is mortified by my response. My laughter echoes down the aisle, and a gentleman I don’t recognize at the other end by the coffee cans looks over at us and smiles.

Caitlin winces. “All
right,
Hester,” she snaps. “Stop making a fool
of yourself. It’s not that funny.” She pushes her cart closer to me, and lowers her voice. “I wasn’t saying I thought the two of you were having an affair. I was only making the point that your relationship is inappropriate.”

The earnestness in her tone is a warning. I’ve rattled her cage, and now she wants revenge.

I slowly regain control of my breathing. “Oh? And why is that?”

She leans in to whisper. “Because any idiot can see he’s a very troubled young man, who needs stable people in his life, not more insanity. And the only reason you’ve taken him in as a tenant—and apparently adopted him as well—is for absolutely selfish purposes. You just want to create another Jeremy for yourself.”

My spine stiffens. “That’s ridiculous.”

I flash back to my recent conversation with Paul. The two of them
must
be talking to each other again, then. Just as they did when they discovered Arthur’s infidelity, and decided to keep it a secret from me.

“Is it? I don’t think so.” Her eyes bore into mine. “You should be careful, Hester. He’s not even your own flesh and blood, and you’re using him to make yourself feel better.” She snorts. “And to make Dad as angry as humanly possible, too, of course. That goes without saying.”

“Alex has nothing to do with either Jeremy or your father,” I hiss.

It’s her turn to laugh. “Of course not. And fairy dust can make you fly.”

Alex reappears from around the corner before I can respond, and she steps back and resumes her normal voice as he draws closer.

“But as I said, what you do is of no concern to me.” She makes sure he’s within earshot before continuing. “Go ahead and keep hanging candy canes and gingerbread cookies on your walls, and entice whomever you wish into your oven.”

She steps past me with a self-satisfied air, knowing she’s knocked me off center. “Don’t miss any more of my classes, Alex,” she admonishes over her shoulder before leaving the aisle. “I don’t believe you can afford to lose your scholarship, can you?”

She exits in a flash of black and red, like an enormous crow with a piece of my large intestine wrapped around its neck.

Alex comes up to the cart, nonplussed. He looks after Caitlin, then back at me. “What was
that
all about?” he asks.

I gather myself together again. “What was what about, dear?”

“That stuff about candy canes and ovens.”

“It’s nothing. My daughter was just being her usual cheerful self.”

He nods and stares after her again. “I’m sorry I left you alone with her, but she creeps me out. She’s just way too intense.” He peers down at me, worried. “Do you think that maybe she heard us talking about her?”

I consider this for a moment. “No. If she’d heard us discussing her before we accidentally stumbled upon her foxhole, the two of us would now be nothing but hamburger for the Hy-Vee butcher.” I resume pushing the cart, determined to thrust aside her accusations. “She keeps a chain saw in her purse for such things, by the way, and a hockey mask. Did you know that?”

He laughs. It’s a sweet laugh, young and warm and full of life. It seems for the moment he’s forgotten to be depressed.

“You crack me up, Hester,” he tells me. “You say the funniest damn things about your own family.”

“I’m not joking. The authorities will one day find a collection of vital organs and severed limbs in her freezer. Mark my words.”

He laughs again, and I continue to banter with him as well as I’m able, for his sake as well as mine.

When we finish our shopping, I may even let him drive us home. He needs the experience, and I’m not feeling particularly well. Tomorrow’s meeting must be weighing on me more than I want to admit.

I don’t care what Caitlin says. I am not using this boy for anything.

“Y
ou’re going to love this,” Jeremy said, lifting a flashlight from the seat between us and placing it in his lap. He unrolled his window and the freezing winter air filled the car. “Trust me.”

Caitlin leaned forward from the back seat, which she was sharing with Paul. “What are you up to, Jeremy? Why did you drag us all down here?”

It was a good question. It was nearly midnight, and Paul and Caitlin and I had been at home a few minutes beforehand, getting ready for bed, when Jeremy had charged in the front door, reeking of coffee and cigarettes, and demanded we all come with him for a “quick outing.” He said he had something “phenomenal” to show us, and it couldn’t possibly wait. We balked at first, of course, but eventually gave in, knowing full well it was no use arguing with him when he was in one of his manic moods. If we had refused to go he would have kept at us all night, so after a vain show of resistance we dressed and followed him out to the car, badgering him with questions, which he declined to answer.

“You’ll see,” he kept repeating, chuckling to himself like a deranged chicken, as he drove us through the darkened streets of Bolton, down to a dilapidated dock on the outskirts of town, on the east bank of the Mississippi River. He parked the car as close to the water as he could get, with the hood pointed toward the river, then shut off the engine and the headlights.

“You’ll see,” he said again, in response to Caitlin’s question. “Just be patient for a little while longer.”

There was a barge coming toward us, following the narrow, jagged path of open black water the icebreakers had carved for it down the middle of the river. An enormous spotlight was mounted on the boat’s cabin, and the light swept across the mostly frozen surface of the Mississippi, bouncing from bank to bank. Its foghorn blared every minute or so, long and low and sad. It was an abysmally dark night out, with the moon and stars obscured by the clouds, and the only sources of light in all that blackness were the spotlight on the barge and the dim glow coming from downtown Bolton itself, a mile or two behind us.

I peered at Jeremy seated next to me in the car, and even though we’d been at the dock for some time and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I could still barely make out the pale white blob of his face as he rested his chin on the steering wheel. The foghorn sounded again, and he shifted in his seat to look at me.

“I believe it’s looking for its mommy,” he said. He seemed oblivious to the arctic blast coming through his open window.

Paul’s head appeared next to Caitlin’s between us. “What did you just say?”

Jeremy tipped his chin at the river. “The barge. Its mommy must have left it alone at the mall or some such thing, and now it can’t find her.”

Paul sighed in disgust. “You’re a moron, Jeremy. Honest to God. Can we go home now? I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Me, too,” Caitlin complained. “Can we hurry this along? I mean, whatever it is we’re doing?”

Jeremy had just turned sixteen a month prior to this, so Caitlin was fourteen and Paul nineteen. I was sleepy and grumpy that night, and all three of them were irritating me more than usual.

“Far be it from me to join the lynch mob, dear,” I growled at Jeremy, “but for once I’m in agreement with your impatient siblings. Perhaps we should wait to do whatever you have in mind until your father is back from England. I would hate for him to miss out on all the extravagant fun we’re having.”

He ignored me. “I’m serious about the barge, you guys.” He giggled. “For your information, I happen to be a barge expert.”

Paul huffed in exasperation and his breath tickled my ear. “Can I smoke, Mom? If I have to sit in this goddamn freezing car at midnight with my lunatic brother holding us hostage, then I should at least get to smoke.”

I turned my head and gave him a loving peck on the cheek. “Of course you can, darling. So long as you’re at least twenty feet from the car, and standing downwind.”

“Amen,” Caitlin said. “Make it thirty feet.”

Paul jabbed her in the ribs and she jabbed him back.

“Quit it,” she commanded. “I can’t believe you let them smoke at all, Mother. Especially Jeremy. He’s still a minor.”

Arthur and I had forbidden the boys to smoke in our presence, or in the house, or in our vehicles. But we had also decided, after countless heated arguments and fruitless lectures, that it was a doomed effort to try to enforce any further discipline than that on them.

“It’s hardly as if I’ve given them my blessing, Caitlin,” I snapped. “If the knuckleheads want to kill themselves when I’m not around, there’s not much I can do about it.”

Jeremy proceeded with his patter, as if none of us had spoken. “As an example, this barge is only about six months old. The short feathers on the tips of its wings will fall out as it gets older.” He held the flashlight out the open window with his left arm and rested it on the side mirror, but he didn’t turn it on yet. “Another fascinating characteristic of barges is how they’ll disguise themselves as sticks or exotic grasses to blend in with the scenery. In the wild some have even been observed …” he abruptly cut off, and his voice dropped to a whisper as the barge passed directly in front of us. “Here we go.”

The flashlight flared to life in his hand and he pointed it straight at the cabin of the barge, presumably aiming it at the person who was steering the thing. The light hit the windows of the cabin and bounced from them, and Jeremy began to cackle.

The spotlight on the barge stopped dead and hovered in one spot for a few seconds, as if stunned by such blatant insolence, then
it began to swing toward us in a slow arc, gathering speed as it hunted us down. It skittered over the last few feet of river in front of us and leapt over the bank, plowing through the dry reeds and gravel like a dog chasing a rabbit.

“What the hell?” Paul blurted behind me.

“Uh oh!” Jeremy wailed. “Here it comes!”

The light hit us full force and I fell back in my seat and threw up my arms to shield my eyes.

“Jesus Christ!” Caitlin screamed, as we were all dazzled and blinded in a circle of paralyzing white fire. The snow on the ground around the car flared up, too, reflecting the light tenfold.

Jeremy jerked the flashlight out of the window and buried his face in my shoulder. “Yeehaw!” he howled. “It’s pretty bright, isn’t it, Mom?”

“You fool!” I snapped. “Get us out of here immediately, before we all have to learn to read Braille!”

Caitlin slapped at the back of his head in indignation. “Jeremy! You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”

“Yep!” He dodged her blows. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

The barge pilot continued punishing us for a good half minute before he finally tired of the game and set us free. The light drifted off in mindless silence to seek the river again, nosing its way over drifts of snow and a small log sticking up out of the ice.

Jeremy sat up again, moving slowly. His breath was coming in hitches. “Goddamn, I’m seeing spots,” he gasped.

“Me, too.” Paul’s voice had a rare hint of hilarity in it. He’d collapsed back into his seat and was rubbing at his eyes. “Shit. You dick. I may never see again.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jeremy flicked off the flashlight in his lap to let our pupils adjust to the darkness again. “Sorry about that. But I didn’t want to spoil the surprise by warning you.” He patted my wrist. “I’ve done that about a dozen times now.”

Caitlin was calming down. “I see.” There was a trace of unwonted humor in her voice as well. “Any particular reason, or are you just out of your mind?”

He rolled up his window before answering, and in the pause I could somehow feel his good spirits vanish, as abruptly as if a
switch had been thrown. The mood in the car altered in that instant as well; Paul and Caitlin were just as attuned to him as I was. Jeremy turned away from the rest of us and rested his forehead against the cold glass of the driver’s door.

“It’s like being an astronaut on the moon or something,” he said in the stillness. “Know what I mean?”

All the levity had fled from his voice, replaced by something somber and frightening we’d all heard there before, a kind of hopeless yearning that seemed to have no source and no boundaries. He fiddled with the key chain in the ignition but didn’t turn on the engine. “It’s as if I’m out walking around on craters and hills in the dark, and all of a sudden the sun comes over the horizon, and, bam! It’s instant obliteration.” He paused again and his words faded to a whisper. “I love it.”

Even as a baby he had been prone to bizarre changes in disposition like this, and I had grown accustomed to them to the degree that they no longer shocked me as much as they perhaps should have. They still disturbed me, of course, but I knew from long experience that he would rally soon enough, if I just left him alone.

Caitlin reached out a hand and put it in his hair. Gestures of affection like this from her were a rarity, but Jeremy somehow brought them out in her.