Crazy Blood

Chapter Thirty

Then, as in a movie smash cut or in a dream, Sky was sitting in the same wing chair in his grandfather’s aerie without Adam or Teresa, only Wylie heavily seated where Antoinette had been, seemingly moments ago. It was night, and in the expanse of the outdoor lights Sky saw the thin carpet of boulder-strewn snow, and beyond that the blackness of the slope, then the distant twinkling Christmas globe of a town far below.

“What’s with the hair?” asked Wylie.

“Antoinette did the color. What do you think?”

“Well...”

“I may grow a beard and have her do it sky blue.”

Wylie nodded in his superior way, Sky noted, or was it pure disdain? “I’m glad you showed,” Sky said, looking down at the note cards. Antoinette’s handwriting was neat and as sweet as her voice. Clear air first. “I want to clear the air so we can have a good clean race.”

“I’m good with you, Sky.”

Recap facts of the attacks. “Not so fast. You forced me off the X Course last January. And knocked me out at Slocum’s.”

“To clear the air, you have to let go of those things.”

“Exactly.”

“I can’t let go of them for you, Sky.”

Politely restate request for apology. “But you can apologize for running me off the course. Then I can let go. Really, that’s all it would take.”

“Are those note cards?”

Wylie looked at him for a long beat and Sky returned it. Without his beard, Wylie looked less bearlike and less intimidating to Sky. With the long hair, Wylie could have a Jesus look going, if only he could bring spiritual credibility to his face. Sky could see their father’s bones in him, at least what bones he could extrapolate from photos and video. Sky also noted the skeptical, show-me stare that nearly every Carson had. And, as always, Sky saw something of the brute stubbornness that ran through the river Carson like a deep, wide undertow. Wylie still held his gaze.

“Sky. I brushed by you. I took the line and you lost it and canned up. I won’t endorse your lie. And I won’t apologize for what I didn’t do. Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m asking you.”

“I won’t. You can’t revise something once it’s done. You don’t get to. Nobody does. You have to see things for what they are. Not what you want them to be.”

“But you, Wylie, can change things with a simple apology.”

“No. I can’t change things at all, with anything. That’s the whole point, and you don’t get it.”

“I knew you’d be too stubborn and self-righteous to apologize.” There was a long silence, until Sky spoke again. He watched the snow slanting softly down. “And there’s the threat I made.”

“Right.”

“I won’t retract it.”

“I let it go, Sky.”

“Big mistake. I gave my word on it. And my word is something I don’t retract. Not anymore.”

“Right.”

Right. The inflection in Wylie’s voice hit Sky like the X Course rocks he’d busted up on that day. It was a revelation. He dropped the cards to the floor. He sensed the Black. Not nearby, eavesdropping on all this. He heard his father’s soft cackle. He tried to blot it out so he could hear Antoinette’s clear, logical, persuasive voice. “You don’t take my warning seriously.”

“No. I never did.”

“Never?”

“Not after I saw the water come out of the squirt gun.”

“Not even a shadow of doubt?”

“A very occasional one, maybe.”

“What if the gun had been real?”

“There you go again, trying to change what can’t be changed.”

“The realness of the gun is changeable. Didn’t you learn threat assessment in the war?”

“From the second I signed my name at the recruiting office.”

“Then how can you ignore this? You’re making a terrible mistake, Wylie.” Sky leaned forward, rested his arms on his knees, and stared down at the note cards splayed on the floor before him.

Accept apology with graciousness and retract threat sincerely.

Remember that your mutual love of Robert is behind all of this.

If no apology, withdraw threat ANYWAY to remove obligation and clear conscience.

Withdraw?

No, he thought. I won’t do that. Not again. As I have so many times before. I’m sorry, Antoinette, but that was the one card you wrote out that I didn’t agree with. I spoke very clearly, but you talked over what I was trying to say. Your clear, beautiful voice went right over me. But you can’t talk over me now. And I have to speak for myself.

“Don’t try to force me off the mountain again. Anyone off the mountain. The consequences will be severe.”

“You are a man with red hair on the left and white hair on the right,” said Wylie.

“Don’t confuse showmanship with lack of conviction.”

“Got it.” Wylie looked at him, shaking his head, but said nothing more.

Sky squatted, collected the cards, and stood. “You’re a belligerent mongrel,” he said. “If you don’t run a clean Gargantua Cup, you won’t be able to change the consequences and I won’t be able to help you.”

“I’ve let the threat go, Sky.”

“As I stand before you, I can’t overstate the danger you are in.”

“Let it go. All of it. I have.”

An idea then came barreling into Sky’s mind, straight into the gap between his defeated diplomacy and his stymied plans. He sized it up and found it promising. “But... maybe there’s another way to make you see. I may just try one more time.” Sky saw that he finally had Wylie Welborn’s full attention.

“Let it go, Sky, whatever it is.”

“Don’t worry about anything. I’ve got the idea.”

Sky brooded late into the night, turning over his idea every which way, looking for the downsides. Antoinette had chosen to sleep at her place, which was fine with him, though he already missed her. Small amounts of time apart were good for lovers. And without her, he could wander his little condo, nip the tequila as needed, and mutter freely to himself.

Unable to concentrate or sleep, he turned on the TV. Whereupon — as if through Satanic intervention — an XTV Adrenaline interview with Wylie Welborn was in progress. Sky watched, at first affronted that Wylie could just take over his TV like this, then fascinated.

Apparently, the interview had been recorded not long after the “Curse of the Carsons” piece. Wylie, fully bearded, looked to Sky like the Wolfman on Xanax, a hulking, resentful hominid with plenty of axes to grind. He talked about his Mammoth Cup and other races he had won way back in the dark ages; his impatience with being only a ski-cross racer and a desire to “grow up”; his service to his country in Afghanistan; his “wandering around the snowbound world,” which was a kind of “spiritual journey” — sheesh! — his eventual “realization” that he needed to return to Mammoth Lakes to see if he could become “somehow more complete, or maybe even neccessary.” Sky had never heard such self-referential bullshit delivered with such a straight face. Of course, Bonnie Bickle prodded him on with all her toothy prettiness.

Adrenaline then showed Wylie’s semifinal and final victories at the Mammoth Cup. Sky watched intently, having to admit that there was some good speed and a cagey use of body weight in Welborn. He’ll need it, thought Sky, reminding himself of his 59.75 second run on the Imagery Beast. It was the fastest time Helixon had ever recorded. After, coach Brandon had told Sky that Wylie’s best time trial on the X Course was not only five years ago but a ho-hum 1:2.20 minute run under perfect conditions. Sky was almost three seconds faster!

Next, Bonnie asked Wylie about the curse on the Carson family. Wylie tried to defend the clan, which, he said, had no curse that he was aware of, just the same ups and downs of any family, and maybe some things had happened, but the Carsons helped build Mammoth Mountain, along with Dave, of course, so no, if anything, the Carsons were blessed, not cursed.

Bonnie reminded Wylie of his long-running competition, feuds, and literal physical fights with several Carsons — most often Sky — and of forcing Sky off the X Course during training for the upcoming Gargantua Mammoth Cup. Wylie smiled way back behind his beard, shook his head, and said nobody bumped anybody off the X Course, that it was just a routine accident on a fast course — he’d busted up on that part of the course lots of times himself. Bonnie asked about Sky’s “line in the snow,” got a shrug from Wylie, then showed the entire video monologue delivered by bruised and battered Sky in his shorts at Mountain High that night. They played the part about Wylie being a “demon bastard” twice, which led Bonnie to recap the whole miserable nativity of today’s guest — Wylie Welborn — using clips of Cynthia.

But by the time Adrenaline went on to its next segment — attractive young women in swimsuits zip-lining over a crocodile-infested river in India — Sky felt energized and motivated by Wylie’s self-serving interview. Wasn’t there a flicker of doubt back in that hairy face, some worry in his eyes? How could there not be? Especially now that the entire racing community in Mammoth Lakes — Wylie included — knew about Sky’s unprecedented under-one-minute run on the Imagery Beast. Take that, W.W.!

Although, actually, what had Wylie shown tonight at G-pa’s, other than his usual arrogant stubbornness? How was it even possible that Wylie could have dismissed Sky’s solemnly sworn challenge, publicly offered? Could Wylie no longer see? Had Afghanistan taken away his senses? His courage?

Time to wake him up, Sky thought. You might be doing him a favor.