Theo (28 page)

Theo walks out of the sun and into the ballroom and a man and a lady are moving fast, going through the scattered clothes, pants and shirts, jackets, bending and pulling, occasionally shaking out things, jamming what they find in the black trash bag each carries. They look like they’re harvesting a crop.

What are you doing, Theo asked. Is that your stuff.

Yeah, it is. They look at the hall entrances, the kitchen, and the outside doors, and at Theo, and keep rummaging.

I don’t think all that’s yours. That’s stealing.

The lady lifts someone’s heavy watch, glittery before it disappears. Then she smiles sleepily and walks to him and stops, just in front of him, her eyes on him the whole time, then lifts her hand and it’s on his throat, tightening a little. It’s warm squeezing, pressing a little on his Adam’s apple, and he swallows. Mum’s the word, she says in a low, normal voice. The man’s hissing at her.

Then she’s moving and harvesting again. Why didn’t he yell or move, where did his brain go: he just stood like the dogs letting someone play with their ears. Is that what he’ll do. But she was a lady. Ladies don’t hurt.

Hey. I’m going to tell the police.

They work their way around and the man looks up and drops the pants he’s holding and the two of them melt away down the back hall toward all the rooms. Theo runs into the kitchen but it’s empty. The kitchen is never empty when his dad is here. Where is the catering lady. Where is his dad. The house a coral reef and people hide in all the holes.

He needs to tell someone about the robbers in the ballroom.
But he doesn’t know who. There’s no teacher.

There are all kinds of people, like in books Theo’s read. Sometimes they fight each other and sometimes they have to work together on a quest. They try to get to a different place together or make the world grow again after a blank white winter. Sometimes they have to free somebody. Theo’s quest is Adrian now. And Gus. Sometimes Theo thinks Gus is really sad. Colin, too. Theo feels it when he comes on them alone in rooms sometimes. If they’re sad, Theo thinks, maybe I’m sad too and don’t know it.

Theo’s on the run again, now to the front and up the big stairs, rocks in a stream, he’s leaping: over the fish, maybe piranhas. He mis-times one step, has to balance for long seconds and then just throw himself onto a landing to avoid falling in. He’s on the bank, he made it. And this floor is where Adrian usually crashes. Noise floats, from inside and out. Theo needs a sword, and maybe he can protect the stuff in the ballroom. Stand guard with the dogs. Where are the dogs.

Theo’s creeping down the shadowed hall, one of the tunnels here; everywhere’s a tunnel unless it’s outside. The house in Jamaica is so light. Theo has a sword in his hand, going from door to door, looking for the monster – it’s here in one of these caves. It might be asleep if he’s lucky. Bells. Chimes. The big clock on the first floor that’s stopped at two minutes to twelve is ringing. Colin winds it every week with a key. The time never changes but it chimes. It’s alive, singing every now and then. Theo puts his ear against the case because he can feel the chimes all over. Colin calls Theo a headbanger because of that. You’re one of us, Colin says. What does that mean – Colin just says, god’s mercy on you. Theo hates when adults say things like that.

You’ll understand later – it’s like poetry, Colin says. Theo wants to know now.

Who could he tell about the stealing. Theo’s guessing at doors. There’s Arabic music behind one, the light from the window at the hall’s end stopping right at that door, a sundial or a signal. Theo takes the handle and opens.

It’s one of the rooms with some old furniture but it smells sweet. Roger and his dad are there on a dim red shiny sofa with fringe and no legs. Adrian has one of his big acoustic guitars in his hands, Theo knows it’s called a dreadnought.

Adrian leans back. Roger holds a bottle in his hand. The couch sags, its guts a yellow-white cloud, and a minder’s bending next to the door, and ladies. One lady is asleep on a pile of cushions without any clothes on. Adrian’s briefcase is beside him on a low table. A lady is leaning and in the middle of tying a piece of colorful cloth around Adrian’s arm, one of the things his dad brought from Morocco. Everyone’s looking at Theo, except the sleeping lady. But no one’s moving or saying anything: a room full of animals watching from deep in their heads, or inside something else. What’s it like in there. Adrian says, you’re fired, to the straightening minder, Billy or Bobby, who’s apparently grabbing up something from under his pants at the calf.

Dad, a man and lady are stealing stuff in the ballroom. They’re taking things that aren’t theirs.

Sound equipment.

No, they were picking up other people’s stuff and going through it.

Bloody Hamptons.

Ratty cushions everywhere, and another low round table, and two mattresses, and the other old amputated sofa, and
flowers. Vases of flowers – Leslie’s flowers or someone else’s – and on dark wood wall a man is spray-painting something inside a long rectangle he’s already painted. He’s painting a sun. It’s a window.

Go tell Colin.

I can’t find him. I don’t know where he is. Or Gus.

Okay. It’s okay, darling. It’s a lesson in nonattachment. We’ll make the place an ashram – Adrian and Roger both laughed. Sexy Sadie, Roger said to Adrian. No, that’s your job, Adrian growled, sniffing.

What should I do. Theo felt awkward, everyone strange; strangers.

Nothing, love. It’s a charitable donation, it’s baraka. Go have some fun.

Can I stay with you.

Rustling among the others, shifting, some slumping lower. Roger exhales cigarette smoke toward the ceiling. The lady finishes tying the scarf thing on Adrian’s arm, tightly. She tugs on it.

No love, we’re doing business right now. Go have a good life.

What do I do.

Adrian stares at Theo, and laughs.

Escape from me, mate – get out and get some sun.

I’ve been in the sun all day. Why don’t you come with me. You and Roger could talk outside.

Theo’s impatient and filling with wild, he wants to kick something, bite. Adrian seems fine as far as Theo can see. So what happened before.

Nah, my friend, we need some quiet to work. There’re too many people around, too many settlers movin in, pardner. Too many thieves. We have to work. We’re going to record
here, remember, and that takes a lot of work, a lot of planning. You’re going to help, yeah.

Theo’s tapping his legs. Dad.

Adrian’s face droops slightly. Aw, love, I’m sorry. I can’t right now.

Why don’t you get a normal job.

Ah, mate. I ain’t normal, I’m afraid. You and I, we’re carnies. We got the sawdust in our blood. Sometimes that’s hard.

Why is it hard.

You’re making my head hurt. Adrian’s smiling with half his mouth. Your mind’s always on turbocharge. You’ll make a good scientist, or a lawyer, god forbid. You’ll make a good whatever you fucking want to be, my friend. You can escape. Me – Adrian laughed hard, and his eyes slowly closed, then opened. The show must go on. And right now mate – Theo feels a hand on his shoulder and Billy looms, a darker thing in the dark but the hand was kind, just there – you gotta let me get on with the act.

I want to go back to school. Theo didn’t know what else to say, swallowing.

The hand’s just there, waiting, warm on Theo’s bare shoulder, the hand big.

I know, I know. Go back to the world, mate, I’ll be there in a while.

I want to live somewhere else. Theo’s heart kicked.

The spray-painted window is finished – there’s a sun, and a palm tree, and a naked woman’s outline, and a little plane towing a banner in the sky that says ‘Lies.’

Later, mate. We’ll figure it all out.

The hand. Answers. Theo’s wondering. Where. Where do they come from. You make the answers up or there aren’t any.
Billy moves him, Theo realizes, before he’s realized it. Adrian’s hands are on the guitar and his eyes are closed. Everyone else seems to be waiting for something: Theo to leave, he figures.

The man spray-paints a mark on the wall like Theo’s seen around his school in Manhattan. A tag.

What does he do now – Theo doesn’t know. Theo looks at Roger: Roger’s head is tilted back, watching him. Theo thinks about Diana, Roger’s daughter. Roger’s winking and nodding at Theo: it’s okay, he might be saying, but Theo’s not sure. It’s hard to tell: adults want you to agree with them, just say okay.

Okay, Theo says, to the air, and the hand.

The door closes and clicks behind him, and Theo’s off running, down the tunnel, away from the army, dark people in black uniforms, down the stairs, jumping. Now he’s in the curving part of the back hall and he hears laughing and ahead sees a slick of something on the tiles, water maybe, and ladies and men at the other end in wet shirts and bare skin – no way for Theo to get past without being seen, and so he stops where it’s a little darker and sees the first lady start running in the hall in a kind of crouch and then sprawl onto the floor and slide on her stomach toward Theo and everyone’s hair wet looking and hers long and her laughing and one of the men has one of the big tins of oil from the pantry and he’s pouring it onto the floor and – gunshots.

Or fireworks. Theo’s not sure. So Theo goes back away from the sliders, he backtracks toward the enemy, out another way. Sound from rooms and Theo’s past it, taking the other way toward the front hall, and he’s in it, full of junk, and new things hanging from the chandelier, including a garden hose now, and sneakers, pink, and he’s outside.

The butterflies – he wonders about them. His dad should see. His dad’s not the same with other people around. Maybe he wouldn’t do it if they weren’t around. Theo feels like maybe if he could get his dad to do stuff with him it would be better for his dad. People are always offering Adrian things to swallow or drink. He never says no. He’s so polite, Theo thinks. Maybe if he could be with his dad he could help him, he could be the person to say no. If he could just get his dad’s attention. He needs to be more interesting: his dad might pay more attention. His mom too. Maybe. So he needs to learn something.

He’s sort of good at sports, but not great. He can add up numbers really fast. He learned how to play ‘Not Fade Away’ on the drums. If he played music his dad would notice. Maybe he can go to a music school or take lessons. Maybe he could ask his dad to teach him to play guitar. He likes to hear music. He likes to fish and throw things. Theo runs through the driveway gravel, hard on his feet, and onto the grass and around the end of the house toward the rear lawn and his ship, which he forgot about. Then he sees the dogs, under the hedge, on the left, three of them, all lying on their sides with their tongues out. Not panting, just. Eyes big and open. His heart swells open and he runs.

Paz’s eye doesn’t move when Theo kneels and reaches under the stiff green bushes with the waxy leaves that Theo can’t remember the name of. He pulls on Paz, who’s limp and heavy, and pats her head, talks to her, dogs can’t understand or maybe they can, so he’s saying, what’s the matter, what’s happened to you, and Paz stares now ahead, tongue hanging out like meat half-swallowed, and her mouth’s frothy, foamy; Theo lifts a paw and it just drops. Her eye rolls slowly up at Theo; the skin over it that looks sort of like an eyebrow is droopy. Theo thinks
of a whale’s eye looking at Paz, looking back at him; but she doesn’t really seem there, the eye’s just open.

What did they eat. Theo remembers the man with his hand under the horse’s mouth and. What should he do. They need help but who. Maybe some water. What do you do – adults are supposed to know. Gus’s an adult – where’s Gus.

Alex and Baron not moving – Theo puts his hands on their sides. Hearts beating hard and fast, like Theo’s. They’re all together. He feels Paz – her heart is pounding. What did they eat.

Theo’s angry – he looks for the man. But what if it’s someone else. He’s mad. Maybe it’s the man and lady stealing. Theo’s been good all day all year a million years: he’s listened and done what he was told to do. He can’t think, but he sees clearly. Everyone. Everywhere.

Theo hates them all, hates the stupid house. Maybe the catering lady can help. He runs.

No one pays attention. Sometimes he knows people but not today. He’s an orphan. He has a grandfather but not here. The ballroom’s full of equipment and people smoking, waiting. Theo pounds toward the big kitchen and the catering lady and now an assistant maybe – another lady, younger than the main lady, wearing the same T-shirt and apron and both of them look very serious.

The dogs are really sick. Something happened. We have to help them.

Theo’s panting at the catering lady – he can’t remember her name. She looks down at him, a little annoyed.

What’s wrong. What do you mean.

I think somebody gave them something that made them sick.

The lady’s frowning and making a face, then she looks at the big watch on her wrist. You should tell your father.

I can’t – he’s busy.

How about, um, Colin.

I don’t know where he is.

Are you sure they’re not just tired or. How do you know.

They have foam. On their mouths. And they’re just lying there. Like when they’re sick, they try to hide, or they did something bad, they’re under the hedge. What if they die.

Still frowning, she’s looking at him with her mouth funny: Annette, can you keep things going for a minute. Watch the pasta. I’ll be back. She sounds Australian, why didn’t he hear before.

Are you from another country.

She’s wiping her hands and saying, yes, honey, I’m from New Zealand. Okay, let’s take a look.

Do you miss it.

You’re a little gooney bird: she’s smiling as they walk fast, Theo’s in front of her like one of the dogs, hopping and anxious. Sometimes I do, yes. But I get back there twice a year at least, so I do see it enough to stave off the homesickness.

Where does your son go to school.

In New York.

Where.

Why do you want to know.

Do you like cooking here.

Yes I do – it’s my job to like it.