Revoltingly Young (35 page)

“
No, just poetically significant. Well I better go. We don’t want to bankrupt my mother.”

“
I miss you, Veeva.”

“
I miss you too, Noel. Look on the bright side, honey. Now I can marry Tyler and wind up your niece-in-law.”

“
I suppose, Veeva, if you can land him. The competition is tough.”

“
I’m not worried, Noel. I’m my mother’s daughter. We always get our man.”

“
But can you keep him?”

“
I think I’ll do better than she did. I hope so at any rate. See you soon, Noel. I love you.”

“
I love you too, Veeva.”

4:36 p.m. Nick and I watched this afternoon’s performance together. I was able to do this because I have officially resigned from the Hercules Circus. Joe College is not back in hairnet though. Another unemployed townie wandered on the lot, stated he would rather peel potatoes than mine coal, and got hired on the spot. Mr. Patsatzis paid me off in cash and graciously gave me 24 hours to vacate my roomette. He said he liked the way I handled a toilet brush and would hire me again next summer if I was interested. I told him I’d think about it.

Mr. Lurrieta was back in tights on the trampoline and didn’t drop any loved ones. My brother applauded their every trick and whistled enthusiastically when they concluded. I think he may have the best approach to fatherhood: Get someone else to raise your kids, then sit back and applaud the results.

Nick enjoyed the rest of the circus too. He thought Mr. Barker has a great act, but needs flashier showmanship. He was amazed to see tall Marcel pedal into the ring on his tiny tricycle. He said the monkey was a new addition, but it was the same old Marcel, who had started him on the path to juggling stardom. Nick talked to him for a few minutes after the show, but I noticed Marcel only reluctantly shook my brother’s hand and never cracked a smile. Those clowns are an odd bunch. Nick had a longer and friendlier conversation with Mr. Barker. While they discussed the intricacies of dog balancing, Kardos made one last effort to get me to stay and devote myself to all things Hungarian. I told him his sister had moved way up on my list, but I wasn’t quite ready to propose.

I finally checked in with Grandma, who seemed delighted to hear from me. Yeah, she wants me back, and she claims it’s OK with her son too. She told Lance that if I wasn’t there to look after her, she’d have to think seriously about moving in with him. I guess a 57-year-old ex-cop figures it’d look bad if he’s living with his mom. I should start charging that guy hefty fees for elder care.

8:14 p.m. I had dinner in the cookhouse tent with Miren. We found an unoccupied table and sat by ourselves. I guess her parents don’t mind me now since we’re related, and they got clued in that Randy was the actual drug-dealer, not me.

Miren is still pretty amazed by the turn of events. She said it would be like in
Pride and
Prejudice
if Elizabeth Bennet had gone through the whole rigmarole with Mr. Darcy, only to discover on the last page that he was her uncle.

I hadn’t read the book, but I told her I could see her point. I said I hoped she wouldn’t wind up resenting me for molesting her.

She said that we both cared for each other, and she could see no reason to feel ashamed about what happened. She said that we probably would have broken up soon and never seen each other again. Now that can’t happen because “an uncle is for life.” She admitted that Nerea is disappointed that our marriage is off.

“
Why was your sister so hot for us to get married?” I asked.

“
Nerea is terrified we’ll grow apart. She doesn’t want me to go to college and find a life apart from the circus. She figures if I’m married and have kids, I’ll always stay right here–with the family and with her.”

“
I know how she feels,” I said. “I don’t much like change either. I’m having a hard time thinking of you as my brother’s daughter.”

“
I know, Jake. It’s a shock. Or should I call you Noel now?”

“
No, I prefer Jake.”

Miren said she and her sister liked their “Uncle Alfredo” when they were little kids, but lately he’d been sort of creeping them out. He was always watching them–as if anyone needs yet another parent. Plus, it had mystified her why such an internationally known clown would want to travel with an obscure one-ring mud show like this one. She wishes her parents had informed them why he was so obsessed about them, but understands why they hadn’t.

Curious about her background, Miren asked me many questions about the Twisps and the Saunders. I told her what I knew, remembering to sugarcoat some of the nastier Twisp parts. For example, I said her paternal grandfather was “retired and living in Los Angeles.” We agreed that it was a shame things hadn’t worked out better with Nick and Reina. She suspects that Sheeni and Reina were the two great loves of his life, yet now he has wound up with neither of them.

I’m amazed how chicks always seem to know such things. I mean, she only met the guy yesterday.

11:48 p.m. After the evening show, Nick and I hung out with the Lurrietas in their trailer. We drank Basque wine (I got a watered-down splash), and Nick and Mr. Lurrieta swapped circus stories and discussed mutual show-biz acquaintances. I sat beside Miren and kept reminding myself not to put my arm around her or grab her hand. Incest or no, I really wanted to hold her in inappropriate ways. Despite the wine, everyone was a bit down because the circus jumps to Nebraska tomorrow, while we’re heading back to Winnemucca in Nick’s rental car.

Then it was time to say good night, and things got even sadder.

Will write more tomorrow. Feel too low now.

SATURDAY, September 24 – The circus pulled out right on the dot at 7:00 a.m. Nick showed up a little after 6:00 with coffee and donuts. I tossed my stuff in his car, and we stood around in the golden light of the rising sun and talked about nothing much. Nerea and Miren looped their arms around mine, and we took Mr. Barker’s pugs for a stroll around the lot. Then it was time to go, and we did the final hugs, and I got kissed by all the Lurrietas except their old man. Lots of tears, and I was not entirely exempt either. My brother was such a wreck, it took him 20 minutes to get it together enough to start the car and head down the road.

6:45 p.m. We made it to Salt Lake City. Nick sprung for separate motel rooms because he said he has “problems sleeping with other people in the room.” That may explain why he’s 30 and still single.

My brother has quite the lead foot. He slams over into the left lane, accelerates like he just broke jail, and holds it steady at a brisk 90 mph. He says he always thrashes his rental cars because, “Hey, it’s not my car.” On a lightly traveled stretch of interstate between Buffalo and Casper he let me take the wheel. He told me to stay under the speed limit and “try not to hit anything.” Driving a car is way better than any video game. Hard to believe adults get tired of it. Nick practically had to pry my hands off the wheel to take over when we hit heavier traffic this afternoon.

Nick said when he was 14 he drove a large Lincoln towing a trailer through heavy rush-hour traffic from Oakland to Berkeley with disastrous consequences. Hard to believe my sedate brother was once so wild. I hope I haven’t inherited that same sobering gene.

Can’t write any more. Going out to dinner with my ‘bro. I think I’ll order a big steak and let him pick up the check.

10:18 p.m. Not much on the motel TV. I was hoping for a porno channel, but dream on. Both Nick and I agree this town is the cleanest city we’ve ever seen–and Nick has been all over the world. Our waitress was so scrubbed and fresh-faced, she looked like she’d just been unwrapped from the factory packaging. Incredibly perky too, like she was totally thrilled to be there taking our orders. She almost had an orgasm on the spot when I told her I wanted my filet cooked medium rare. All that enthusiasm, yet the food was mediocre at best.

Over dinner I got Nick to talk about why things went sour for him in Paris. He said too many years had gone by, and both he and Reina had changed. They were too much in their own separate worlds now. Plus, her kids felt totally threatened and wanted their real dad back, not “some American turkey who couldn’t speak the language.” Nick said Reina had inherited an apartment building in Paris. Since her young kids made it difficult for her to tour with her bird act, she wanted Nick to quit the stage and help her run the building.

“
Somehow she imagined that I would want to do that. She thought it was perfect because we could be together all the time. True, but when I get out of bed in the morning, I want to look forward to more than fixing toilets and collecting rent from a bunch of disgruntled tenants. Besides, I had already worked as a janitor in that building–years ago when I lived there with Sheeni. The thought of carrying out the same garbage cans left me cold. I don’t think Reina quite realized that I wasn’t this marginal person any more. That I had a profession now and had done very well in it.”

Nick was skeptical Paul Saunders would fare any better, but said Sheeni’s brother had at least one thing going for him: “Reina’s parrots love that guy. They just go wild when they see him. Naturally, she takes that as an encouraging sign.”

Feeling reckless, I raised the touchiest subject of them all: Sheeni Saunders.

My brother sipped his wine and shifted uneasily on the banquette.

“
Yeah, it was interesting seeing Sheeni after all these years. I used to think the sun rose and set on that gal. I thought she was the smartest, most beautiful girl in the world.”

“
And now?” I asked.

“
I think she spends too much time out in the sun. I don’t know, I was struck by how coarse her skin had become. Her eyes seemed tired. They’d lost their sparkle.”

“
And?”

“
And what? That’s about it. We’re strangers now–except I suppose we have our children in common.”

“
Do you wish you were still married to her?”

“
Hard to say. Could be–at least theoretically sometimes. But I didn’t feel that way when I was sitting beside her in that Paris restaurant. I was thinking, hey, I don’t know this person at all.”

Weird. According to Veeva, Nick’s been totally hung up on that chick for half his life, yet he tells me she feels like a complete stranger to him.

Nick pushed aside his plate and asked me if there was anything going on between Miren and me.

Being a full-blooded Twisp, I denied everything. I said we were just pals and Miren wasn’t that interested in boys because she intended to go to college and study literature.

“
She takes after her mother,” he commented. “I think Nerea may have a bit more of the Twisp in her.”

A fairly astute observation. My brother may not be as oblivious as I’d always assumed.

SUNDAY, September 25 – Once we were out of Salt Lake City traffic, Nick let me take over and drive the rest of the way. It didn’t seem to phase him that I had no license and yesterday was my first time behind the wheel. Perhaps a spark of that youthful rebel still flickers inside my brother. I did have a near-miss in the restaurant parking lot when we stopped for lunch in Elko. How was I supposed to know that ancient idiot would pull right out in front of me? Doddering 90-year-olds are allowed to drive in this state, but me–a teen with all my finely honed faculties in prime condition–is denied my rightful license. Is that fucked up, or what?

At lunch I mentioned to Nick that I was thinking of changing my name to Jake Twisp.

“
Jake, huh?” he said. “Is that short for Jacob?”

“
No, it’s just Jake.”

“
How about a middle name? Most people have one.”

“
I don’t know, Nick. I never thought about that.”

“
How about Jake Sinatra Twisp? That has a nice ring to it.”

Yeah, maybe. If you’re 103 years old. I told him I would pass on the middle name. Nick said if I was serious, he would get his lawyer to file the paperwork. I told him to go ahead.

Jake Twisp. I think that sounds like me. At least for now.

Grandma was thrilled to see us. She gave us both hugs and carried on in a rather embarrassing way about my face bruises and bum tooth. She looked OK, but she’d put on a few pounds. Wescotts tend to do that when they’re stressed. I wish I didn’t cause her so much worry.

Grandma invited Nick to stay the night, but he was eager to get going. He said he planned to dump the rental car in Reno and catch the next flight to Vegas. I gave him a farewell hug, and he slipped me another $100 bill. That makes two hugs and $200 from that guy. He pays off better than any slot machine in the state.

So here I am back in my cramped and squalid bedroom. Still, it’s palace-sized compared to my circus roomette. I lay down on my narrow bed and felt the crinkle of the plastic layer under my sheets. All the trauma I went through on the road, yet I didn’t wet the bed once. Not much thumb-sucking to report either. A positive trend that I hope continues.

My computer’s back from the cops, minus its violated hard drive. May take me a while to get it back up to speed. So I guess I won’t be checking my e-mail tonight.

Grandma phoned out for pizza and we’re going to watch a video. I may sew on some sequins too as her costume orders are backing up. She’s OK about my new name. She says she was never that nuts about the name Noel–or Wescott for that matter.