Читать книгу Mathilda Savitch - Victor Lodato - Страница 10

When I got home from school, Ma was in the kitchen staring out the window. She had on her Chinese robe with the bridges and the dragons.

“What are you looking at?” I said.

There was a pecan ring on the table. Ma had already eaten a good chunk of it. Ma’s always been skinny and I want her to stay that way. Fat wouldn’t make sense on her, she doesn’t have the bones for it. Plus fat people are liars, have you noticed that? They hide things.

“What are you doing?” I say. She was just standing there.

“Pecan ring,” I say. “From Kroner’s?”

“You want a piece?” she says.

I tell her no, even though I’d love a piece. Pecan rings from Kroner’s are pretty amazing. My plan is to eat it later when she’s passed out.

I sit at the table and wait to see what happens. It takes about two hours but then finally Ma comes over to me.

“Your hair’s getting long,” she says, and she touches it. The feeling is electricity, warm, and maybe it wouldn’t have felt half bad if Ma’s lousy hands weren’t shaking. Plus the kitchen smells like cigarettes, which is her old habit back again.

I pick a nut off the ring, but I don’t eat it. I examine it like a scientist until Ma moves away. Suddenly all I can hear is the humming of the refrigerator. It’s like the sound track to infinity. I get up and whack the stupid thing. Ma flinches a little, it’s almost funny.

“Your father and I are going to the theater next week,” she says suddenly out of left field. The two of them never go out anymore, so it’s a little suspicious.

“What day are you going?” I ask her.

“Wednesday,” she says.

Which is the day before. The day before H.S.S.H.

“Is it a special occasion?” I say. Maybe Ma and Da have the day marked in their calendars as well, maybe I’ve underestimated them.

Ma makes a disgusted face and backhands an invisible fly. “Someone gave your father the tickets,” she says.

I ask her if I can come but she says they only have two seats.

“Can’t you buy another one?” I say.

“You wouldn’t like the play,” she says.

I ask what’s the name of it and she tells me, “The Moons of Pluto.” She says it like it’s the worst title in the world.

“I want to go,” I say.

I bet Ma doesn’t even remember that planets used to be one of my big obsessions. I used to have the whole solar system up on my ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars as well.

“I want to go,” I say again, but Ma doesn’t answer me. She probably wants me to beg, but I’m not in the mood. I’ll do the begging routine later with Da.

“I’m sleeping over at Anna’s this weekend,” I say.

“You’re not the only person with plans,” I tell her.

Ma just nods. She’s at the window again. I don’t know what she’s looking at. Is it trees she’s interested in now?

The silence again, I’m telling you, you can’t imagine it. All of a sudden I wish I hadn’t punched the stupid refrigerator. It’s the perfect moment for some refrigerator screaming.

Before I know what I’m doing I’m eating the pecan ring. I sort of make a pig of myself. I eat more than I mean to. Ma’s still turned away from me, and when she breathes it makes the dragon on her back look like he’s getting ready to shoot a big load of fire. I wish I knew what was inside her head. For some reason my ESP doesn’t work when it comes to Ma. I keep counting the breaths of the dragon and when I hear Da’s car, it’s music to my ears.

Ma moves over to the stove, pretending to be normal. She stirs something in a pot. Dinner, I suppose, though she hasn’t been too creative lately. Lately she’s the one-pot wonder. Throw everything in and hope for the best.

The front door opens. Luke barks from somewhere in the house.

“We’re in the kitchen,” I say, careful not to shout. But then I can’t help myself, I say it again and this time I shout. “We’re in the kitchen, Da.”

Just get him in here is my thought. Save me from the dragon.

Once or twice I’ve heard my mother and father having relations in their bedroom, but not in a while. Ma sounds like an owl and Da sounds like a sheep. When Helene and I were kids, we would catch them kissing in every part of the house. Da gave Ma the kind of kisses that linger, and afterwards she looked like someone who’d just had a bath. Recently Da has been trying to put his hands on her again but she’s not too interested. He makes jokes and tries to touch her but he mostly misses. Ma’s pretty fast when she wants to be.

Every night after dinner Da takes a walk with Luke. “Anybody coming?” he always says. My standard excuse is homework, and Ma is Ma. Other than work she hardly ever leaves the house. Lately she doesn’t even answer him. But my Da can’t help asking, he’s always been the optimist in the family. He’s definitely the one who could save the world, but will Ma let him is the question. Maybe she wants everything to come down in fire.

Tonight when Da asked if anyone was coming, I said yes. Ma looked at me like I was an impostor.

“What?” I say to her. “I used to walk Luke all the time when I was little.” I wanted her to know that some people can do more than just sit around and smoke cigarettes. A person can wake up if she wants to.

“Get your coat then,” Da said. He didn’t seem terribly excited by my company. It struck me that maybe he goes somewhere private on his walks and now that I was coming he wouldn’t be able to go there. Or maybe it was just his private thoughts I’d be interrupting.

We only walked around the neighborhood, it wasn’t anything special. A few people waved at us and we waved back. Luke barked at some dogs. One house still had a bring back our troops sign on the lawn and I couldn’t even remember if we still had troops over there. I guess we always have troops somewhere, due to the fact that it’s an age of terror. And then the funny thing was, I completely blanked out as to where “over there” was. Helene would know, she was very political for a person her age. Ma and Da used to be political too, they were big marchers once upon a time. But I guess they’re more selfish now. Death does that to people apparently.

When Da bent down to scoop up Luke’s poo I noticed a tiny bald spot on the top of his head. I realized I wasn’t exactly sure how old my Da was. I know he’s not too old but a bald spot, even a tiny one, is definitely a sign of time passing. I tried to picture my Da bald but I had to stop because it was like a monster movie in my head.

Luke stopped to smell something and Da and I waited. We were like two strangers at a bus stop. Finally I kicked Luke, not hard, just a love tap. “Get a move on,” I said.

“Be nice,” Da said, and so I gave Luke a make-up smooch right on his nose, which made his butt wiggle. And then I wiggled my butt the same way and Da laughed. When a plane flew by overhead Luke barked. It was dark up there and the plane’s lights were on. It’s still something that scares me. I wouldn’t mind if I never saw an airplane again my whole life. In our history book, there’s a picture of the burning towers. I was only a kid when it happened, but they don’t let you forget stuff like that.

I wondered what Ma was doing, if she was already in bed, safe and sound. I could picture her under the covers, naked. And I could picture Da slipping in later like a mouse. Ma sleeps on the left and Da sleeps on the right, and on both sides of their bed there’s a little cabinet. On top of each is a lamp for them to read by. And then there’s the inside of the cabinet for their personal stuff. When you’re married you can’t hide things under your bed anymore because the bed is shared property.

In Da’s cabinet there are books and also some photographs from a trip we all took to Concordia Farms to pick pumpkins. And every now and then there’s a magazine of perversion in there, mostly about breasts. Pretty much the women are alone and when they touch themselves they look like they’re in pain. Sometimes the women look right at you. Some of them look insane. In Ma’s cabinet are cigarettes and notebooks and sometimes a bottle. I don’t know why they don’t put locks on their stupid cabinets to keep people from snooping.

When people came to see the display of Helene in her coffin, they didn’t see Helene because the coffin was closed. Locked. I wonder who had the key. Apparently Ma and Da got to look at her before they closed it but I wasn’t invited. Supposedly her body was pretty bad. I don’t know if it was or it wasn’t. Everyone went up to the stupid box as if Helene was inside. But I wasn’t convinced. Death is a joke almost. You can’t honestly believe it.

Ma wore red lipstick to the funeral because that’s the only color she has. I sat next to her and she kept saying the same thing over and over again, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Oh god oh god oh god it could have been. But probably not, because she doesn’t even believe in him. Capital Him.

It’s funny, it didn’t even rain the day of the funeral. Nothing was right about it. Da’s brother made a speech but he barely knew his lines, he kept looking at a piece of paper. I’m telling you, the whole day was completely unbelievable. I know what funerals look like from movies, and Helene’s was a total sham. If it rains on H.S.S.H. I’ll be happy.

Well, not happy exactly. I’ll just have the feeling someone’s been listening. One of the watchers maybe. Rain is the least they could give me. I’m not asking for a miracle, just a little lightning, a few cracks of thunder. Is that too much to ask?