Valley of the Moon (34 page)

I
found myself counting to eight over and over. It took me a few hours to realize this was happening. At first it was the quietest of background noises, virtually impossible to detect unless you brought all your focus to bear on the sound. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Like a ringing in the ear that drifts in and out. But soon, just in.

I took a shower to try to rid myself of it. I let the water pound on my head. It worked. The numbers receded, but once I was dressed they returned.

“I keep counting to eight,” I told Lux.

“What do you mean?”

“Counting off.”

“Numbers?”

“Yes. One, two, three, four—all the way to eight.”

“And then what?”

“Then I start all over again.”

“Really? Are you doing it now?”

“No, Lux, I can't count and talk.”

“So keep talking.”

“That's not a solution. I can't talk all day long.”

She frowned. “An inner-ear thing? You still feeling off-balance?”

“A little.”

“Maybe you're just anxious. When I get anxious, I repeat a phrase over and over again in my mind. A silly thing, like ‘Green, yellow, green, yellow.' It gives me distance. Allows me to step outside the anxiety. Maybe that's what you're doing. Mentally trying to keep calm.”

Fine. Anxiety it was. I grabbed onto that explanation and for the rest of the day forced myself to believe it. Until Benno burst through the door that evening, dropped his bag on the floor, and looked at me with disbelief and delight.

One, two, three, four—the numbers unspooled, faster and faster.

“What the hell,” said Benno. “How are you here?”

“Beta blockers,” said Lux. “They slow down your heart. I got them from Rhonda. I don't know why I never thought of it before.”

His eyes shifted back and forth between the two of us.

“Well, Jesus.” He leapt forward and hugged me.

I stood stiffly, my arms down by my sides; we'd never embraced before.

“Welcome to San Francisco, man. Welcome to the modern world. How long are you staying?” he asked.

“I'm not sure,” I said.

“Does this mean you'll be coming back and forth like we do? Does this mean everybody in Greengage can come?”

“Whoa, you're getting ahead of yourself, Benno. He's only been here since Friday night,” said Lux.

“This is awesome.” Then Benno's face clouded over. “What are we going to tell people? How are we gonna explain him?”

“He's an old family friend, that's all you have to say.”

Benno grinned. “I can't believe it. You're standing right in front of me. In our living room,” he caroled.

He threw his arms around me again and this time I embraced him back.

Lux and I didn't have a minute alone for the rest of the night, but I really didn't mind. Benno wanted to show me everything: his Nintendo, his Rubik's Cube. His photographs.

The Brownie camera I'd given Benno had been the beginning of an obsession for him. He'd taken a photography course. He'd spent hours at the library poring over books of photos. His tastes were eclectic. On his last visit to Greengage, he had rattled off names of famous photographers that he loved—none of which were familiar to me: Henri Cartier-Bresson, Diane Arbus, and Walker Evans. Man Ray, Ansel Adams, and Mary Ellen Mark.

Now I had the opportunity to examine Benno's photos. The subject matter was varied, some portraits and landscapes. Buildings. Crowds. In some instances he'd shot so close up I couldn't tell what the image was. His photos had a grit and beauty that belied his fourteen years.

“Do you like them?” he asked. “I know some of them aren't so great. This one's sort of overexposed and…”

I glanced at Lux. Here was all her hard work. Here was her undying love.

“Tell me more,” I said.

Lux announced she was going to bed.

“I'm not going to bed yet. It's too early,” said Benno. “I want Joseph to see MTV.”

“Does Joseph want to see MTV?” she asked.

“It's fine,” I said. In truth, I was exhausted, but I didn't want to let Benno down.

“Okay. Don't stay up too late. It's a school night,” she said to Benno.

Benno jumped up from the couch to change the channel. Lux went to the bathroom and closed the door.

I stared at the bathroom door, willing her to emerge. Finally she came out, dressed in her nightgown, her hair loose. She looked down at the floor, then boldly swept her gaze up to me.

I hadn't told Lux, but today I'd had to take three beta blockers.

One, two, three, four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

I knew what the counting was now. My heartbeat—speeding up. Meting out the days.

O
n Monday I called Mr. Pease and told him that I had an urgent family matter I had to attend to, and therefore he would need to find somebody to fill my shifts all week. I didn't give him a chance to say no.

Joseph looked pale.

“I'm worried,” I said. “I should take you to my doctor.”

“And say what?”

“Say you have a heart problem.”

He shook his head. “I'm fine.”

He didn't look fine.

“Please don't worry,” he said.

“I should just give you some time?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Fine. I'll give you some time.”

He nodded tiredly.

“But why do you look that way?”

“Good God. What way?” He pulled himself erect. Widened his eyes.

“Have you changed your mind?” I asked. “About me? About us?”

“No,” he practically shouted.

“It's not a stupid question. You might feel over your head. You might feel like you made a mistake. I would understand if that's the case.”

I was losing him. I could sense him pulling away from me.

Joseph scraped his chair back and walked around the table. He yanked me out of my chair and into his arms.

“Listen to me. There is nothing I wouldn't do to stay with you and Benno. Nothing. No matter what happens, you have to know that.”

“Then stay,” I begged him. “Don't leave before you have to go. I know you're scared; I know this is a lot to adjust to. You're not going to be able to absorb everything in a week. We have all the time in the world for you to adjust to life here. Weeks. Months, if you want it.”

He hesitated and murmured, “All right. Yes.”

T
hat afternoon we picked Benno up from school and the three of us took a stroll down Market Street. I caught a glimpse of our reflection in a store window. We looked—like a family.
Remember this,
I told myself.

I'd taken three beta blockers already today. Soon I'd be in need of a fourth.

“Oh, look, Benno. Lotta's Fountain,” said Lux. “Let's show Joseph.”

“Who's Lotta?” I asked as we approached the cast-iron fountain.

“I think she was a singer or a showgirl,” said Lux.

“She was a vaudeville performer,” said Benno.

“How do you know that?” asked Lux.

“We came here on a field trip in sixth grade. Her big claim to fame was that she had the most beautiful ankles in the world.”

“People gathered here after the 1906 earthquake,” explained Lux. “This was the meeting place. Where people came looking for their loved ones.”

The fountain was in utter disrepair. The lion heads defaced with red paint, all the panes of glass on the lantern either missing or cracked.

A sudden rage washed over me. Why had no one come looking for us?

“They should clean it up. Paint it or something,” said Benno. He glanced at me. “They should take care of it better.”

“Oh God, Joseph. I didn't think. I shouldn't have brought you here,” said Lux.

“I have something to tell you,” Lux said, just before dinner. “Something I feel terrible about.”

A chicken was roasting in the oven. A loaf of bread sat on the table, slathered with butter and garlic. Benno was in the living room watching TV.

“I've kept something from you. The first time I came back from Greengage? I went to the library.” She shook her head. “Stupid. I was so stupid. I was trying to prove to Rhonda you existed. I knew you existed. That should have been all I needed.”

“But it wasn't.”

“No, it wasn't.”

I sighed. “What did you find?”

“Nothing,” she said sadly. “There was no record of Greengage and no record of any of you. I had the census reports checked back to the 1850s. It was like you never existed. I should have told you right away. But I just thought, what's the point? Why hurt you unnecessarily? Wasn't it better to just let you go on thinking your families had looked for you? That you'd always be remembered?”

My vision blurred. The room spun.

When I came to, I was on the floor. Benno and Lux hovered over me.

“Did you forget to take your meds this morning?” asked Lux.

“No.” It was the only word I could manage, my heart was beating so quickly. I pressed my hand on my chest in vain, as if I could slow it down.

“Can you swallow?” asked Lux.

Benno gently propped me up. Lux gave me two pills.

“I want you to rest now. Stay in one position. Don't even move your head,” she instructed me.

I stared at the ceiling obediently.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

I closed them. A racehorse in my chest. Galloping, galloping. I blacked out again.

When I woke, I was in the car. Lux was driving. Benno sat with me in the backseat.

“He's awake,” Benno said.

“Hold on. We're almost there,” she said.

I felt dizzy and nauseous.

“I gave you a Valium along with the beta blocker,” said Lux. “To keep you calm.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

I don't remember walking through the woods. Lux told me they half carried, half dragged me. I have a faint recollection of somebody crying, then the scent of bacon and freshly baked bread. When we stepped into Greengage, my heart rate went back to normal and I knew I would never see 1984 again.