Bright Lights, Dark Nights (30 page)

“What the hell's the matter with you?” Dad asked. “Don't you ever talk to me like that. I look bad right now, and part of that—a good part of that—is your fault.” Dad was flustered and pissed off, and so was I. We never talked like this. He was close enough that he could get physical. “I got a kid dating a black girl, and I'm the racist cop. Those are the stereotypes. I don't need this extra baggage from my own family. I don't need to deal with this crap twenty-four-seven. You're throwing me under the bus, Walter. You think I'm ruining your little puppy love life. Well, you're throwing out my career, everything I worked my whole life for.”

“Maybe you're throwing it out,” I said. “I saw how you and Gran and Pop and Joe talk. Our whole family is racist, so yeah, maybe I do believe Calvin. I never met the kid in my life and I believe him over you. Just admit it and move on with your life.”

“That's your family, too,” Dad said. His voice was loud and sharp enough to cut. “You're every bit the racist I am, if that's your thinking.”

The lights in the room flickered briefly and then went out. It wasn't living room lights-off dark; it was dark-dark. I went to the window and there were no lights at all for blocks. The sky was a muggy dark brown.

“Maybe this can get me back to work,” Dad muttered as he got out his cell. He dialed work and waited. “Don't go anywhere.” Blackouts had happened before in the city, but usually during the summer, and during the day, so when the power went out this time, it was actually dark.

I went back into my room to get my own cell phone. I texted Naomi to see if the power was out there, too.
You okay? Power went out down here
, I texted her. I had to get out of the house.

Dad was on the phone with work. He sounded friendlier already, but it was a ruse. “Hey, Celebrity Cop, that's right,” he said to whomever he reached. “Let me out there. We'll bring the cameras, get it on a network.”

My phone buzzed a few seconds later. The light of the phone screen lit up the room.
Parents are out. Jason on a date. Babysitting. Power's out here, too.
She was alone with Kelly. I told her I'd be right there, and that was a promise I wasn't breaking.

“Come on,” Dad said into the phone, sounding like he was responding to bad news. He turned to face the corner and ran his hand over his head. “You need me out there. I got this.”

“I'm going to Naomi's,” I told Dad, having grabbed my hoodie and phone and keys already. I was checking the closet for a flashlight. This was as good an opening as I was getting.

“Hang on a second,” Dad said into his phone, and held it to his chest. “The hell you are. Get back to your room. You're not leaving the house, and she'd better not leave hers, either. You're safer indoors.”

“She's alone with her baby sister. She'll be safer with me there,” I said, clicking the flashlight on and off to test it.

“That's if you even get there,” Dad said. “Bad types come out when stuff like this happens. You don't know who's out there doing what. Stay put, Walter.”

“What bad types are those?” I asked.

“Don't do that with me,” Dad said. “Crooks, that's who. I'm on the phone, Walter. Go back to your room.”

Dad turned his attention back to his phone, and the door was shut behind me before he could say another word. I rushed down the stairs without a look back and stepped out into the dark.

“Walter!” I heard Dad yell out, but that was behind me now.

*   *   *

I got to Naomi's place pretty quickly. I walked fast with my head down, my mind racing with angry thoughts. Blind to both time and my surroundings, not deep in thought but with more of a white-noise-grumbling frustration. I didn't pass any looters or maniacs. Most of the few blocks I walked were quiet. I passed a few cars, a few people walking, and that was it. Another check in the “Dad's a crazy paranoid” column. I called Naomi, and she invited me up. She was doing better under the circumstances than I would have. Candles lit the living room, and Naomi was calm as could be, especially considering Kelly's wailing cries. I gave Naomi a big hug when I came in. It was therapeutic and I needed it. I felt the tension leave my body almost immediately.

Between the two of us, we managed to settle down Kelly. In fact, she had a blast. We played number games, counting from one to five, and five to one, getting sillier and more ridiculous each time. We read her short books by candlelight. Naomi insisted I at least try to hold Kelly, and the first thing she did was grab the glasses off my face. Naomi put them on.

“I love these things,” she said. “Wow, these are strong!” Naomi had glasses, too, but only needed them for reading. I loved it when she had them on, though. She looked cute in glasses.

Naomi put them briefly on Kelly's face and snapped a picture before taking them right back off. “These things would ruin her eyes.”

“My vision isn't that bad,” I said. “Is it?”

Kelly got sleepy soon after that, and Naomi put her to bed. She was a natural with kids. Kelly was something out of a TV show, all cute squeals and smiles, not like my cousin's sticky-punchy, potentially homophobic kids.

We made our way to the couch in the living room and got under a blanket for warmth. We kissed by the candlelight. Her face was a sliver of dark, soft orange. Her lips sparked and brought my whole face to life. It felt a world away from everything else. Even the blackout felt like an afterthought. I took a deep, cleansing breath.

“I want to look at you forever,” I told her, and meant it. I wished it could just be like that all the time. I kissed Naomi between the cheek and nose, to the farthest jawbone, to the left of her chin. The bottom lip, and upper lip. I pulled her in as close as I could. Then I pulled her in a little closer.

We kissed a little longer. “What time is it?” Naomi asked. I rested my arm on the couch as she squirmed, looking for her phone. It was around nine, but it felt like it could be any time, or like time wasn't a thing at all. It was our own special time, apart from everyone else's. “We still have a while before my parents get home.”

“Did you text them about the blackout?” I asked, but she wasn't worried about the blackout. She was just babysitting in the dark, and now parked on the couch with her boyfriend. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

“They never go out. Are you kidding?” she said. “Let them have fun.”

“My dad's convinced war is going to break out in the streets,” I said. I wished he could have fun, that a blackout could just be a blackout. “All the rioters and looters and crazies see the lights go out and grab their weapons. Start smashing windows and shaking down the innocents.”

“That's true. It's happening right now,” Naomi said. “Can't you hear all the car alarms? The whole city's burning down.”

“I thought that was the glow of the candles,” I said. “But you're right, the fire's reaching for the sky. I can hear the helicopters whirring by. It must be crazy out there.” I tightened my arms around Naomi. “We're safe in here, anyway,” I said. “Under this blanket, just you and me.”

Naomi burrowed her head between my cheek and shoulder. “Of course, we'll need to go back out there eventually,” she said.

“We've got everything we need,” I said. “Let the police take care of it. It's apocalyptic out there.”

Naomi was quiet for a moment. I heard Kelly stirring in the next room. I closed my eyes, content, a little sleepy myself even. Then Naomi spoke. “Okay, I'm going to say something again, because I'm thinking it.”

“That's such a bad rule you have,” I said. “You can really get into trouble with that.”

“Please, can I say this?” she asked, and I nodded. “I'm worried about you.”

“Why?” I asked. “I'm okay. Especially right now.”

“But I am worried,” Naomi said. She sat up and turned my chin toward her face, her eyes were searching for mine in the dark. “Look at me. I'm worried you're going to shut down because you don't like the attention. There's going to be attention, long after this stuff with your dad passes. Maybe you don't see it—I don't know. But if it's not your dad's case, it'll be some other news story or just your everyday racists. Or just curious people. I worry you'll shut down every time we're challenged and hide in your shell.”

“Hide in my shell? Is that what you think I do?” I asked.

Her brow furrowed. “It
is
what you do,” Naomi said. “I'm happy with you and you're happy with me, but there's a lot we haven't talked about that maybe we should at some point.”

“Naomi, I want to be with you. That's all that matters. No, I don't like attention. I don't want to defend myself for liking someone. I don't want to fight people, especially strangers, and why should I have to? I don't even think fighting should be in the vocabulary of a relationship. I'm happy with you.”

“Me too, but sometimes relationships are work,” Naomi said. She turned my head back toward her, a little softer this time. “You have to work for happiness, and you have to fight for love.”

“Fine, I'll fight,” I said, and moved her hand from my face. Annoyed that she'd use that word for the first time in this context. “I'll fight—I'll fight dirty, okay? I'll gouge eyes and use a rock. Who do you want me to fight?”

“That's not what I mean,” Naomi said. She was sitting up and leaning forward, away from me now, the blanket bunched up between us. “You're avoiding the issue again. This is exactly what I mean. I'm saying talk to our parents, talk to your dad, talk to
me
. I want to know what's going on in your head.”

“No, that's talking,” I said. “You said fighting, I'm gonna fight. I know a few wrestling moves. I've played some Tekken. I can turn anything into a weapon.”

“Stop,” Naomi said, annoyed. She was raising her eyebrows to accentuate her points. “You know that's not what I'm talking about. I'm glad you don't fight at school or pick on kids smaller than you, like some of those other guys, but you should want to fight on some level. That's the problem. I'm not talking fists and feet; I'm talking about facing the world.”

“It's the same thing!” I said. They both led to people getting hurt. “I don't like it; it's not me. I don't like fighting, I don't like arguing, I don't like
this
!”

My parents had fought all the time—that's what she made me think of. Lying in bed, listening to Dad yell and Mom scream, and as a kid I couldn't think of why they were together aside from the fact that they were my parents so they were just kinda stuck there. And I fought with Mellie and sometimes I'd yell things I heard our parents say even though I had no clue what they meant.

“You don't like this?” Naomi said. She was mad at me now. If she wasn't before, she was definitely mad now. I'd seen her mad and did not want it directed at me. “You don't like talking to me?”

“Of course I do. Naomi, look at everything going on around us,” I said. “No offense, but for all your talk about fighting, you can be a little unhinged. Frankly, it scares me.”

“If you can't deal with me
as I am
—” Naomi pointed at me, her voice raised enough that I worried we'd wake up Kelly.

“Look at the comments online,” I interrupted, trying to keep my voice low. “Look at the bile people are posting there!”

“And you
listen
to that?” Naomi asked as if I were disturbed. She had an immediate retort to everything I said. I wasn't even sure if she was listening to any of it. She was an argument robot, like one of those baseball pitching machines set to auto.

“I'm just saying the world is not a safe place,” I said. She slowly turned her head away from me. “It's not some soft cushion you can go diving off of buildings and land on safely. You're mouthing off to Lester freaking Dooley, for crying out loud. That kid thinks I'm talking about him now. Who do you think he's going to come after? Me. And Jason? Your parents?” I asked. I got off the couch and started to pace. “You ever think all this fighting is just pushing everyone we know who should be in our corner really far away?”