His Illegal Self

48

It is a law of childhood that you are seldom punished immediately but must wait in a state of agony for your crime to be known. That’s how it worked for the boy after he sounded the horn at the police. He was ashamed of himself already but he knew the real upset would only arrive when Dial was told, and as he skulked down in the valley and Trevor remained on the hill, this time of torment went on and on. He didn’t see Trevor, although he must have visited during those long hours when the boy slept, the dusty crocheted hippie rugs pulled over his head to hide him from the light.

It was in the middle of the fourth night that Che came down the ladder from the loft, each rung so square and hard it hurt his toes, and went outside to pee. If Dial had been asleep he could have gone out on the deck and made the stinky earth smell even worse. But Dial was out there smoking so he crept out the back door and found that the season had turned, not cold by the standards of Sullivan County, but cold enough. There was dew, and when he came back inside he made perfect wet footprints on the perpetually dusty floor.

He got almost as far as the ladder when she called to him.

Come and tell your secrets.

He stayed between the workbench and the ladder, hugging himself, wishing he could hide his ugly self.

Come here, baby.

The slats on the deck were also wet with dew. They were colder even than the earth. He saw the valley was filled with mist and blue moonlight, wet leaves, black pawpaws, dark icy sky above the distant ridge. He waited.

You’ve been keeping secrets, she said. He looked down at her and she looked straight back at him with her black brows pushing down onto her eyes.

He has a car hidden in the bush, she said. Don’t walk away.

I’m getting a blanket.

He climbed up the ladder and threw down one of Adam’s quilts.

You knew that, she said. You kept it secret.

He spread the blanket on the floor inside the doorway and then he wrapped himself inside it.

Baby, don’t close your eyes.

I’m sleepy.

Look at me. Were you trying to get Trevor caught?

I warned him, he cried.

Were you trying to get me caught?

What!

Were you trying to get me caught?

No, he cried so loud it echoed around the valley.

Shush.

You shush! The police were here. I ran up to Trevor’s. I warned him. Let me alone. I’m sleepy.

Now she was kneeling, looking down at him as if he was some poor moth she’d tangled in a string. She tried to peel back the blanket.

You honked.

It was a mistake, he said, grabbing the blanket back.

How could it be a mistake, baby? She lay her hand on his shoulder and he felt tears rising.

I thought it had two points to it, he said, sitting up.

What?

The horn, Dial. Two points on it.

I don’t get it.

Well she would not get it, he thought. She never would get it. She was not mechanical but he couldn’t say that or she would get all pissed.

A first and second, he said. That’s all.

He could see her not listening to him and he thought that his grandma would have known-there are the two pressure points on the trigger of the.22 and the car had two points on the key and he had just thought there were two points on the horn but the more he tried to make it clear the more she thought he was lying.

You want me to get caught, she said.

He dropped his blanket enough to hit her, shush her, to make her love him. She held his hand. It’s OK, she said. It’s natural.

He tugged himself free. I’m not like that.

We’re all like that, she said.

But he was not like that at all. He stole some money, that was all. Dial, he said, I don’t want you caught. What would happen to me then?

She brushed his hair back from his eyes as if what he said was nothing. You can’t know what you feel, she said.

I can know what I feel, Dial. You can’t, that’s all. You can’t know.

It’s not your fault.

I do know how I feel.

You want to go home, baby. Of course you do. She held out her arms to him and he crawled onto her lap, his head between her breasts, and she reached across and wound the quilt around them both up tight around his shoulders, swaddling him tight against her.

If you were grown up you’d know you honked that horn for a reason.

It was a mistake, he said, but he was soothed now, not wanting anything more than to be loved.

Because you’re angry with Trevor, or with me. If you were grown up, that would be clear to you. It feels like a mistake, but it wasn’t. You needed someone to take you home. Shush. It’s not wrong. You’ve been stolen from your grandma. It’s no one’s fault.

She could not know-it was so much worse than that. He wished she would just be quiet and stroke him till he fell asleep.

We’ve got to figure this out. She rubbed his head. What’s best for all of us.

You do it. He yawned. You decide what’s best.

All your life depends on it, she said. I can’t do this on my own. You have to help me. The thing is, she said, you’re rich.

I guess. I don’t know.

You must be. Your mother doesn’t have sisters or brothers. Your grandma is a Daschle and Daschle Kent is a private company.

I don’t know what that is. Dial, I don’t care about money.

There are millions of dollars of artworks in the apartment.

He did not care.

On Park Avenue. Baby, you will have a really nice life, baby, with a nice apartment, lovely paintings most of all. And Kenoza Lake.

He blocked his ears.

Nice things, OK.

Only years later would he understand; she was a socialist. What could she have been thinking?

You don’t know, he said. You don’t know anything about me.

That’s why you have to help me decide for you.

I don’t know what you mean, he said.

We have to get you back to Grandma, she said. That’s it. That’s all there is. We’ve been so stupid, but we love you, baby, do you understand?

He understood enough to fall asleep. In the morning he woke up in the other hut with his nose pressed against her shoulder.