The H-Bomb and the Jesus Rock (10 page)

I paused.

“And
you
people?
Your
story?” I lifted up the head and looked at it. “You found a rock in the weeds, which
maybe
, from a certain angle, with the right lighting, kind of looks a little bit like Jesus.”

They both kept sitting there staring off. But they were listening, I could tell.

I turned all the way to Ralph, with my back to Lou. I even said his name. “Do you see, Ralph? What I’m trying to say? You’re the older one, so you know what I’m talking about. I mean, let’s face it, there’s ‘real’ and there’s ‘pretend,’ right?” I lowered my voice, like I didn’t want Lou to hear: “Now
Lou
, she’s just a kid. She doesn’t know the difference. But see, you’re older—older and wiser—so you
know
. We
both
do, you and me. Don’t we.”

I waited.

“Or am I wrong,” I said.

He shrugged.

Which was enough. He was coming around. I could tell.

Lou

Fatso said I was just a kid, which I am, but the way he said it, like I was a kid but him and Ralph they were
adults
. He was just trying to butter him up. He was turned all the way around, talking just to Ralph, like they were together, like I was over
here
but they were over
there
.

Ralph and Fatso.

I’m sure.

Ralph

I didn’t look at him or say anything. I didn’t want him to know what I was thinking. The thing is, I was thinking he had a point.

He said the children of Fatima weren’t trying to be like the children of Fatima, which was true. Plus, he said I was the older one—older and
wiser
, he said. So that was another good point.

Lou gets carried away, that’s the trouble. I’m not
blaming
her—she’s just a kid, she can’t help it. But see, I’m older, older and wiser. Even Fatso had to admit.

I didn’t say anything, though.

Anyway, I didn’t feel like I was in the middle of a story anymore, The Miracle of the Rock or any other story. I just felt like I was in the middle of a really lousy day, all the way back to Lou kicking me in the nuts.

Toby

I needed to close the deal with Ralph:

“All right, listen,” I said to him. “Let’s say we charged ten cents a minute for people to look at this thing—know how many two-cent bottles that is?”

He just kept looking off.

I told him the answer was five. They would have to find five empty bottles to make what we’d be making in a single minute. Then I asked him how many minutes in an hour.

He just kept playing hard to get.

Or else? Maybe he really didn’t know the answer. Maybe he was even dumber than I thought—
retarded
dumb.

So I said to him, like a kindergarten teacher. “The answer is sixty. There’s sixty minutes in an hour, okay?
So
. That means if we charged ten cents a minute? We’d be making six dollars an hour. Six...dollars...an
hour
, Ralph. That’s three dollars for me and three dollars for
you
two people. And that’s just for one hour. Think how many—”

“Wait,” he said.

“Sorry. Going too fast?”

He wanted to know why I got three dollars while each of
them
got only a dollar and a half.

Okay, he wasn’t retarded.

I told him that was a very good point, very good arithmetic. But I also told him, be that as it may, I’ve got the head. “You can grab it and go running off again but I’ll just go back to your mom:
Mrs. Cavaletto, what are we going to do with these two?
Plus, I hate to say it, but let’s face it, I can get anybody to pass out fliers.”

Lou

This skinny old baldheaded guy was sleeping across the street on his porch and I kept on staring at him but I wanted to look over at Ralph, I wanted to say to him,
What are you doing?

He was talking to Fatso!

Fatso was saying how it takes money to make money, and Ralph asked him where they would get it. Fatso said from his mom, and Ralph said, “Right.”

Like Judas!

Judas sold Jesus for thirty pieces of silver and that’s what
Ralph
was going to do, sell Jesus for six dollars an hour!

He even took off his hat, his Francisco hat.

I tried to think what the little girl in the story would do, in The Miracle of the Rock I mean. But it was hard to. Ralph was the one in charge of the story, what happens next, and now I didn’t even know if there
was
a story anymore.

But it was still our rock, half mine. We found it.

That wasn’t a story.

Toby

I was explaining to my new partner how we had to loosen up my mom, how they had to keep on playing the children of Fatima, at least for a while. Then Lou said something I didn’t hear.

I turned to her. “Come again?”

“Can I hold it for a minute?” She meant the rock.

“Right, so you can go running off with it?”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“See now, that’s a lie. What you just said right there, young lady, is a lie. And I’m trying to remember, what was it you told me? Oh yeah, ‘Liars go to Hell,’ that was it.”

She looked at me like she was either going to spit in my face or start crying, but all she did was turn away and stick her hand on her hip.

“By the way,” I said, “thanks a lot for twisting my tit like that. I haven’t forgot. And I
won’t
forget. I won’t
ever
forget.” I leaned a little closer. “Someday
you’re
gonna have tits, and you know what? I’m gonna come around and show you how it—”

“Hey, shut up.”

That was Ralph.

I turned to him, slowly. “Excuse me, did you just tell me...to shut
up?
”

He just kept staring at me straight in the eye, taking these hard steady breaths through his nose. Some of these skinny types can be dangerous when they’re mad, like rabid animals. Be that as it may, I could flatten him out if I got on top of him, like before. But that could be tricky, especially with the
little
one to worry about—I already seen what
she
could do. Besides, I didn’t want to lose them now, just when I was about to make use of them. But I wasn’t about to back down, no way. How could I still be the boss then?

So this was kind of a tricky spot.

Then good old Mr. Pappas helped me out. He started shouting out some gobbledygook with his gums, and Ralph looked over at him.

“All right, Mr. Pappas,” I hollered back. “I’ll tell him. I don’t know if he’ll listen but I’ll tell him.”

“Tell me what,” Ralph said.

“Oh, just,
you
know, about not fighting, how it’s better if people try and pull together, like Jesus always taught. And y’know? Let’s face it. The old geezer’s got a point. Don’t you think?”

He shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” I put out my hand.

He looked at it.

“How ‘bout it, partner,” I said.

He put out his hand.

We shook.

His palm was clammy like a fish and the fingers all knuckley and disgusting.

Lou

I thought for sure Ralph was going to fight him and I was ready to help. I didn’t care about what’s-her-name, Jacinta, what she would do. I didn’t care. I was ready for action.

He told Fatso to shut up because of what Fatso said about me having breasts someday. Ralph wasn’t going to let him talk to me like that. He doesn’t get into fights unless he’s really mad, and the way he was breathing I could tell he was really mad. So I thought this was going to be it for Fatso, The End, and I was going to help. I was going to get my teeth into him or twist his other tittie,
something
.

But then they shook hands.

Fatso put out his hand and called him “partner” and they shook, like that’s what they were, partners.

And I don’t know if
Ralph
saw but
I
saw what Fatso did after they shook. He wiped his hand on his leg, like wiping off cooties, like Ralph had cooties.

And Ralph was going to be his
partner
.

I was crying, not out loud.

Toby

It was time.

I told Ralph to put his funny hat back on and listen up. “We’re going
in
there now, all three of us, and I want you and your little buddy here to do exactly like I tell you. Got that?”

He nodded.

I didn’t even bother looking at Lou. She would do what her brother told her, I was pretty sure of that. If she didn’t, we’d get rid of her. But I wanted to keep her if I could. I wanted my mom to see them together, as a pair, the little gypsy children God loved so much He sent them a genuine replica of His only begotten Son’s own head.

I asked Ralph if he’d ever seen my mom.

He said he wasn’t sure.

I told him, “You’d remember, believe me. She’s a
big
old thing, and I mean huge. And she doesn’t like kids, especially your kind, no offense. But if this is gonna work, she’s gonna have to like you a lot, both of you. She’s gonna have to think you’re the next Children of Fatima, okay? So play it up big. Try and look as poor and sad and religious as you can, like you say the rosary night and day. But just remember, I’m in charge. Don’t
touch
anything, don’t
say
anything, don’t even
move
unless I tell you to. Understood?”

He nodded.

I checked on Lou. She was still gazing off, with that stupid hand at her hip. Plus I noticed a couple of tears running down her face—a nice effect, but it worried me a little.

“She gonna behave?”

“She’ll be all right.”

“Make sure.”

Then I took a long deep breath and let it out. “All right. You ready?”

He nodded.

I looked down at the Sacred Head of Our Lord and Savior in my lap. “
You
ready?”

I nodded the head.

They didn’t laugh, either one of them. Couple of real deadbeats, those two.

Ralph

Fatso had me so nervous I felt like praying, just to calm down. But who would I pray to? Jesus? So He’d help me not be nervous so we could talk Fatso’s mom into giving us money to set up a tent and charge money to look at His head? That would be worse than praying for a base hit, a lot worse.

I didn’t even want to look at Lou. I knew how mad at me she probably was. I knew she probably thought I was being like Judas.

But she’s just a kid, let’s face it.

I remember about a year ago we were peeling potatoes for supper and she found one that looked like Ed Sullivan and went crazy. I kept telling her,
Okay, so it looks like Ed Sullivan, so what?

Same with the rock, you know? So it looks like Jesus, so what?

And actually? I would say the rock doesn’t even look as much like Jesus as that potato looked like Ed Sullivan. And you know what we did with that potato? Ate it for supper, mashed.

I got up and followed Fatso into the house, Lou right behind me, holding on to the back of my sweatshirt.

Premier Khrushchev

You have thrown down the gauntlet. We will be forced to take those measures we deem necessary and sufficient. To this end we have all that is necessary.

Toby

Mom yelled out from the kitchen what she always yells when she hears the front door open, or the back door, or even a burglar climbing in through the window:

“Shoes off!”

The two of them right away dropped to one knee and started unlacing. They were pretty spooked, you could tell. I asked Ralph how about untying
mine
while he was down there, and he did, attaboy.

Then, shoes off, I handed him the rock and whispered, “Wait here. Don’t touch anything, either one of you,” and headed for the kitchen. I was nervous. I was sweating. I hate sweating.

I passed a picture of my dad on the wall in a suit and tie, smiling down like I amused him, highly.

Lou

Fatso handed Ralph the head and left the room!

I whispered, “Ralph, let’s
go
, let’s get our shoes on!”

But he just kept standing there holding the head, both of them staring off.

“Come on,
will
ya? Here’s our
chance
.” I stood in front of him. “Ralph? Ralph, look at me.”

He wouldn’t.

I grabbed the head but he yanked it away and held it up high so I couldn’t reach.

I tickled his ribs.

He didn’t even smile.

I thought about punching him in the stomach but I don’t like hitting Ralph, he never hits back, then I feel bad. So I said to him, “Okay, guess what, Ralph,” and went over to the door. ”I’m leaving.”

I put my hand on the knob. “Hope you and your new friend make a lot of money selling Jesus.”

I turned the knob. “I just hope they don’t drop the bomb today, y’know? Because guess where
you’ll
be going.”

He just kept standing there like a butler.

“Okay, Ralph. Bye. Nice knowin’ ya.”

“Don’t forget your shoes,” he told me.

“Ra-alph...”

Toby

She was at the sink, in her yellow rubber gloves, scrubbing the inside of the coffee pot with a Brillo pad, mumbling something. I listened.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners...”

Poor thing.

“Hey, Mom?”

She didn’t look up. “Where have you been? I looked front and back,” she said.

“Had some errands to run, other side of town. Listen—”

“Your bike was still on the patio, why didn’t you take your bike?”

I didn’t answer. I told you about her thinking I know how to ride the thing.

“I don’t want you venturing from the house today,” she said. “You don’t have to stay inside, but I want you to—”

“Ma, listen, okay? This is important.”

She stopped scrubbing and looked at me.

“Something I want to show you.”