Fury

22

Saturday, December 25

Karp woke up with what felt like all of Santa's reindeer stampeding around in his cerebellum. Marlene, on the other hand, cheerfully jumped out of bed to make sure Santa hadn't messed up after the guests left the night before.

The wrapped presents had needed name tags, and faux Santa, feeling no pain from the champagne, was sure to have messed up at least a few. The unwrapped presents-those that the real Santa had hand-delivered straight from the North Pole, even those clearly stamped Made in China-needed to be sorted into clearly recognizable piles that demonstrated Santa did indeed know that the boys had been equally good. As much good as could be expected of Zak, anyway.

Returning from her inspection tour, Marlene didn't appear to be suffering from any ill effects of alcohol. In fact, she was humming a Christmas carol and making loud sighing noises to encourage him to get up. When that didn't work, she invited the boys-who were bouncing off the walls in their bedroom waiting for him to rise so that the yearly greed fest could begin-to instead bounce on the bed.

"AAAHHH," he'd cried. "I'm getting up. I'm getting up. Please, I think my brain is hemorrhaging."

The twins stopped, concerned looks on their faces. "Don't worry, guys, Daddy's just a little hungover," said Marlene, demonstrating none of the Christmas spirit she professed to have in spades. "Giancarlo, find his slippers and bathrobe. Zak, go wake up Lucy and Ned…but don't go in their room, on pain of death, just knock."

Zak ran out. A moment later, there was a shriek, then Lucy's outraged voice. "Get out of here you little brat! MOTHER!" Marlene trotted out of the room to carry out the threatened sentence on Zak, who apparently dodged the axe and ran back into the bedroom to jump on the bed. "They're naked, you know," he said, peering down at his father, who groaned and rolled over to plant his face in the pillow.

When Karp finally shuffled into the living room, Marlene handed him a cup of hot herbal tea-"chamomile and peppermint with some ground-up Tylenol, perfect for a hangover"-and then forced him to drink when he growled that he didn't want it. Jojola smiled and lifted a cup. "It's good, even without the Tylenol. Merry Christmas and belated Happy Hanukkah."

Karp just stared at him until Jojola decided to join the boys, who were salivating next to the piles of unwrapped presents, waiting for the starting gun from their mother. Lucy got her revenge on Zak by taking extra time "to fix my hair" before emerging from the bedroom with Ned, who got the evil eye from her father.

Not that he would have admitted it to Marlene, but Karp felt better after a half hour or so of sipping the tea while sitting on the couch, laughing at the twins, who were practically hyperventilating with avarice. The boys shredded expensive wrapping paper without a second glance and fell upon their presents like lions on a gazelle. Over by the door, Gilgamesh happily gnawed on his Christmas present: a big soup bone from the kosher deli that had moved in on the ground floor, replacing a Chinese restaurant-supply store.

Meanwhile, Lucy carefully pried open the tape and unfolded the paper on her presents as if she intended it to be used again. One of her gifts was a lacy, red negligee from Victoria's Secret, with a matching red thong. Instead of the embarrassment such a present might have caused her in the past, she held it up against her body and asked Ned what he thought.

"I think I might die when I see that on you, but what a way to go," he replied with enthusiasm until he glanced over at Karp, which put an immediate end to any further comments.

"It's from your father and me," Marlene said.

"I had nothing to do with it," Karp insisted.

Marlene next brought out a large box for Ned, which he accepted shyly, complaining that he'd didn't need "anything more than what you've already given me." Inside the box was a two-thousand-dollar Neiman-Marcus version of the Marlboro Man's fleece-lined coat.

"It's made of buffalo hide," she said.

The young man sat stunned, stroking the baby-soft skin. "I don't know what to say. It's the most beautiful thing-outside of my horse and Lucy-that I've ever seen in my life." He stood and retrieved a box from beneath the tree and handed it to Marlene, who sat down next to Karp to open it.

"It ain't much," he said. "But there's a story to it."

Marlene opened the wrapping and then the box. Inside was a crucifix with Jesus on the cross that had been carved out of a single, gnarled piece of light-colored wood.

"Tell her where you got the wood," Lucy said.

"It's from that old pinon tree that you were hung up on over the gorge," he said, referring to the tree that had prevented her and Lucy from plunging seven hundred feet into the Rio Grande Gorge that summer. "There wasn't much left of it-most went to the bottom with your truck-but enough for this here carving."

"The idiot climbed down that cliff to get it," Lucy added.

"I had a rope on me, tied to my horse."

"Good idea," Lucy teased. "What if the horse decided to take off before you were ready, or maybe came to see what you were doing…"

"She's too smart for that," Ned said in defense of his horse.

"But it's what I get for falling in love with a cowboy," she concluded. "They can't ever do anything the easy way. It's like they're always in a movie."

Love? Karp thought. Get me my shotgun; I'll shoot the sneaky bastard.

Marlene examined the crucifix. It was simple-the work of someone with only a pocketknife for a tool-yet the simplicity gave it grace and power, and it had obviously taken Ned many hours to carve.

"It's beautiful, Ned," she said and walked over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Blushing, Ned said, "I thought something carved out of that tree might still have some luck left in it for you and your family."

There's something wrong with this kid, Karp thought. Nobody's this nice.

"Trees have spirits, too," Jojola noted as he emerged from the boys' bedroom with an armful of presents. There were two small bone-handled knives for the boys, who looked with puppy dog eyes at their father, who in turn rolled his but nodded. Jojola gave Lucy and Ned matching silver bracelets-"made by one of the best silversmiths in the pueblo"-and a beautifully woven rug to Marlene. "It's Navajo," he shrugged. "But they're okay people once you get to know them. A little full of themselves."

The last present Jojola handed to Karp in a small box. Inside was a stone carving of a bear. "It's a fetish," he explained. "We believe that every human being has a kinship with an animal spirit guide with whom they share personality characteristics. Mine is the eagle. Marlene's is the cougar."

"Figures," Karp said. "Something with claws that bites."

"Independent, courageous…a giver of life to its cubs, and a bringer of death, but only to feed or protect her family."

There was an awkward silence that followed the word death, so Jojola moved on quickly, "I asked the spirits to show me your totem. A bear appeared to me in my dreams and he spoke with your voice, saying something like, 'Wa a leak come salon.' I don't know what that means-it's not Tiwa, my people's language, but it's probably important."

"Wa alaikum salaam," Lucy corrected him. "It's Arabic and means 'And unto you peace.' It's a traditional response to the greeting 'A salaam alaikum," which means 'Peace be unto you.' I wonder where you would have picked that up."

"I don't know," Jojola said, "but when bears talk, I listen." He turned back to Karp. "The bear is a very special animal to most Native American tribes. He is the most powerful animal in the wild, but he doesn't rely on just brute strength. He is clever and will try to solve a puzzle before turning to force as a last resort. The bear is thought to be wise and contemplative because for four months of the year he hibernates and thinks deep thoughts before emerging in the spring to put those thoughts into action. Sometimes he appears to be moving so slow that you cannot imagine he has another speed, but if he charges, he can outrun a horse. Oh, and if someone is stupid enough to tangle with an angry bear, the bear usually wins."

Karp turned the fetish over in his hand. It was crudely chipped out of some sort of quartz or a similar mineral he couldn't identify. He liked the feel of the stone; as small as it was, the figure did seem to imply a creature of power. "Thank you, John," he said. "For the bear and the thought."

Marlene handed Jojola a box. He opened it and lifted out a strange-looking headset with what looked like small binoculars attached.

"Cool!" Zak shouted. "Night-vision goggles!"

"A Rigel 3250 with built-in infrared for illumination even in total darkness," explained Giancarlo, who'd helped his mother pick it out at the Sharper Image and knew all the details by heart. "It weighs less than a pound, which makes it one of the lightest on the market."

Karp thought that Jojola's bronze face looked sad for a moment-the lines around the eyes and mouth deeper, his brown eyes seeing something not in the room. But then the Indian smiled and said, "It is a wonderful gift."

Marlene started to reply, then choked up a little before finally shrugging as if she'd given him a pot holder. "You said that it's dark where you're going."

"What do you mean by that?" Karp asked.

"Yeah, where's John going?" Giancarlo wanted to know.

"He just got here," Zak complained.

"It's nothing," Jojola said. "I just have some business to attend to for a few days. I'll see you after that."

"Cool," Zak exclaimed. "Commando stuff like when you were in Vietnam?"

"Nah, nothin' like that…just looking around. We'll talk about it some other time. This is Christmas morning, and I think there's more presents under the tree."

Lucy and Ned then exchanged gifts. She'd bought him a new pair of boots and he gave her a silver heart-shaped locket with a photograph of his face inside. "So you never forget what I look like," he said and kissed her gently on the lips, a gesture that sent a spasm of pain clutching at Karp's frontal lobe.

When all the other gifts had been handed out, Karp gave Marlene a small box. She opened it and found a key. "What's this?" she asked.

"Why, it's the key to my heart," he replied.

"Oh, honey, that's so sweet… But come on, what is it really?"

"Can't tell you yet," Karp said. "You have to wait until after the New Year."

"I'm supposed to wait until after the first to learn what the mystery key for my Christmas present fits?" she said. "That's not fair. I'll go crazy wondering what it is."

"Sorry, can't tell."

The twins and Lucy all giggled. Marlene glared at them all, one at a time. "Okay, I get it. This is a conspiracy to drive me insane and lock me up in some looney bin so Karp can bring his little Trixie into my bed, and you kids can run amok with no parental supervision."

"Guilty as charged," Karp said.

"Can Ned and I take Gilgamesh back to New Mexico?" Lucy laughed.

"Who's Trixie?" asked the twins.

Marlene swore that she would catch them when they were alone "and yank fingernails until someone cracks." But no one seemed to be giving in to fear at the moment, so they moved on to a simple brunch of pastries and juices.

Afterward, Karp lay down on the couch, determined to have a little quality family time watching the twins play with their new toys. But the games had beeped, pinged, and chimed until he felt as if he'd been chained to the floor of a Las Vegas casino, right next to the nickel slots. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and demanded that all electronic "anythings" be banned from the living room for the rest of the day.

The boys complied and took the games back to their room. But then the little monsters returned with their nonelectronic plastic samurai swords and armor-a gift from Uncle Ray, whom Karp intended to beat over the head with a law book when he saw him again-and commenced to hack at each other and then feigned loud, protracted, yet heroic deaths by ritual seppuku.

When Ned mercifully offered to show the twins the Peacemaker, Karp didn't put up a fight. "Anything to keep them quiet for a few minutes," he moaned. "But no firing blanks. No shouting. And no death scenes."

There'd been a blissful hour of lying on the coach with an ice bag on his head, while the twins and Ned talked quietly and practiced their quick draws. But twelve-year-old boys cannot help but occasionally shriek with joy at the heft and feel of a real cowboy gun, so he'd finally given up any pretense of quality time with anyone and retreated to his bedroom.

A little while later, Marlene popped her head in long enough to say that she and the boys were going to her parents' house to drop off presents. "I'll give them your holiday wishes."

He must have slept because the next thing he knew, she was back opening the door again. She walked in and closed it behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she crawled up on the bed next to him and curled up against his chest.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Well, if you don't mind the woman who gave you life referring to you by your sister's name…or watching your father try not to cry as he watches his wife disappear inside of the shell of a woman he no longer knows…it went as well as can be expected."

He felt her body trembling and realized that she was crying. He wished that he could cover her with his own body and shield her from the pain, but there was nothing he could do except hold her.

At last she stopped crying and sat up. "Let's go see the kids," she said. "You up for it, Lazarus?"

"Sure," he replied, sitting up and wincing as someone stuck a needle in his cerebral cortex.

In the living room, he looked around. "Where're Lucy and Ned, and John, for that matter?" he asked.

"I don't know," Marlene replied. "They were gone when I got back."

Karp turned his attention to the twins, who were sitting somberly on the couch. He wondered if they were crashing from their sugar buzz of the morning. "How were Pops and Grammy?"

"Grammy didn't know who we were," Zak said dejectedly.

"A lot of people confuse you and Giancarlo," he'd replied.

"No, I mean she didn't know who any of us were," he said, angrily wiping at the tears that rolled down his cheeks. "She kept calling Mom 'Josephine' and thought we were the neighbor boys from down the street."

"She asked if we were the naughty kids who ripped up her flower garden yesterday," Giancarlo said, his lip trembling. "She didn't know it was Christmas. She saw the presents and thought it was her birthday. She even opened Grandpa's presents. Why is this happening to her?"

Karp's heart suddenly ached for his children. Concetta Ciampi was the only grandmother they'd ever known. She'd been there for their births. She'd watched over them when their busy parents had been too consumed with work, changing their diapers and reading bedtime stories. Now she was being taken from them in the cruelest way imaginable. The outward appearance was the same, but the woman inside was leaving them.

"I don't know," he said. "But you need to know that she can't help what is happening to her."

"Is she dying?" Zak sniffled.

"In a way," Karp replied. "But her mind is dying before her body is ready. We've just got to do our best to let her know that we still love her-that we understand that she's still in there somewhere-and support Grandpa, too. This is very hard on him."

Later that night, the boys had settled onto the couch with him and Marlene to watch It's a Wonderful Life. He sent a silent thank-you to Frank Capra, wherever he was, for the film's life-affirming message.

The credits were rolling, and the twins had been sent off to bed, when Lucy and Ned-whom Karp thought looked a little like Alan Ladd in the movie Shane with his new coat and old cowboy hat-returned.

"Where's John?" Marlene asked.

Lucy looked troubled. "Gone…for now."

"What do you mean gone?" Karp asked. "What was all that heart-of-darkness stuff about earlier?"

"He went to find David Grale."

"David Grale is dead. He bled to death at the altar in St. Patrick's Cathedral."

"I know, Daddy," Lucy said. "He knows it, too. But he's been having this dream, and, well, he says he needs to at least try to locate Grale."

"Why? What's supposed to happen if he doesn't?" Karp asked. He didn't like all this spiritual mumbo jumbo; it bothered him in a way he didn't understand, which made him irritable.

"He won't say…not exactly," Lucy said as Ned stepped behind and wrapped his arms around her.

Karp tried to ignore the way his daughter seemed to melt into the cowboy. "Well, what did he say inexactly, then?"

"Oh, just that tens of thousands of people might die. A little Armageddon, New York style."

Karp made another mental note to talk to John about doomsday prophecies around his spiritually impressionable daughter. "Where was he going?"

"I don't know, and I don't think he did either. Just that it was going to be dark… Sorry, Dad, I don't know any more than that and I'm tired. It's been a long day, and I want to go to bed. I love you."

Lucy then led Ned off to her room. Karp looked away rather than watch the pair disappear down the hallway. "They're naked in there, you know."

Karp asked Marlene if she knew where Jojola was going. But she either didn't know much or she didn't want to talk about it. All in all, it's a strange way to end Christmas Day, he thought. But the pathos wasn't over yet.

As he and Marlene lay in bed that night, the conversation had again turned to her parents, especially her father's growing frustration and instability.

"I'm worried about what he's going to do," Marlene said.

"You mean when she dies?"

"No. I'm worried that he may snap and hurt her. He's going crazy with the fear that something is going to happen to her on one hand, and the guilt of wishing that she'd just die on the other."

"Maybe it really is time to put her in a nursing home," Karp said.

Marlene shook her head. "I asked him again today, pleaded with him. But he won't hear of it. It's the guilt. He said, 'What if she's in there somewhere, waiting for me to come and get her out, but she can't tell me how. I can't just take her from the home she loves. I can't be that cruel.' So he just sits there hating what she's becoming, and hating himself for it."

She turned to Karp and put her hand on his chest. "If I ever have Alzheimer's and I can't do it myself," she said, "I want you to shoot me before you start to hate me."

"I could never hate you."

"I'm sure my father would have said the same thing."