Left for Alive

by Tom Hogan

  “I forget how intuitive you are.”

  “What are you going to do, first thing that you’re out?”

  “Harry and I are going to McDonald’s. Big Mac, large fries and a chocolate shake.”

  The night before Josh got out, most of the camp stayed around the dinner table. Pete and Harry were down in the cabin, planning their next camping trip. In two weeks Donna was going to give a speech in Denver. Pete and Harry were going to drive the VW van and meet her there. Pete had introduced Harry to topographic maps and they spent evenings plotting itineraries and hiking routes.

  While Lucky and Alexis cleared the table and started the dishes, the others gravitated to the living room. Zeke stood by the door, expecting his evening walk, but Clark settled in on the floor by the fireplace, flipping his way through a game of solitaire.

  “I hope, when he gets out, he’s not like he used to be, those past times,” Donna said.

  “He won’t be,” William said. “This is easy time, compared to Phoenix. And part of the grind in the past was that he was on his own. He’ll be okay.”

  “Will’s right,” Lucky said, wiping his hands on his pants as he entered the room. “If anyone can do time and not let it get to him, it’s Josh.” He looked at Carol. “How many books did you bring him last visit?” She held up three fingers. “And I brought him two. And he’ll have finished them all by tomorrow. He does his work, does his pushups and situps, reads, and sticks to himself. He’ll be fine.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Alexis asked. She looked around the room. “Why is everyone so sure that what happened to Paul won’t happen to Josh?”

  William looked at Clark. “You worried about him?” Clark shook his head and returned to the cards. “Lucky?”

  Lucky shook his head as well, then turned to Alexis. “Josh does what he has to do. If that means talk, he’ll do it. Fists, he’ll do it. If it means puttin’ a knife in someone, he’ll do that, too.”

  “When you say ‘put a knife into someone…’” She looked around the room.

  Donna broke the silence. “What Lucky’s saying is that, when it comes to doing what it takes to survive, Josh does the minimum it takes. But sometimes the minimum is still more than people like you and I can stomach.”

  It was past ten and no one had left the L. The talk came back to Josh and Paul. “I’m not in a position to judge, having never done time,” Pete said, “but what Paul did doesn’t sit well with me.” He looked at Clark. “Clark? Tell me if I’m wrong.”

  Clark didn’t answer for a moment. He turned the cards without looking at them. Then he looked up and shook his head. “William?” she asked.

  “I’m not defending Paul. But to be honest, I don’t know what I’d have done if someone had offered to switch places with me back then.”

  Carol joined the conversation. “But back in Phoenix, which was tougher conditions than this, he always came back and did his time. Why is this time different?”

  William thought for a moment. “Prison warps you. It confuses everything you’re sure of—about yourself and what you’re capable of.” He shrugged. “All that said, I hope I wouldn’t screw over someone who was doing my time for me. Not if I wanted to look that person in the face again, I wouldn’t.”

  “You think Paul won’t come back here?”

  William looked at Lucky. “What odds are you giving?”

  Lucky didn’t hesitate. “Five to two that we’ve seen the last of Paul.”

  The next morning everyone was up earlier than normal. Harry and William, who normally had the L to themselves at that hour, ate breakfast with Pete and Donna. Carol walked in, her hair still wet, a few minutes later. Clark wandered in, poured himself a cup of coffee and he and Zeke returned to his cabin, where they sat on the porch.

  Lucky and Harry had just started watching The Stooges when the door opened and Paul walked in. He had a two-day beard and disheveled hair. He muttered a general hello and walked into the kitchen.

  He emerged a moment later with a cup of coffee cradled in his hands. “What time does he get out?”

  “Noon,” Donna answered, not looking up from her newspaper.

  “Who’s going to pick him up?”

  “We all are. Do you want to come along?”

  “Actually, I thought I’d pick him up alone, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  William looked up from his book. Lucky turned off the television. Harry started to object but Lucky shushed him and patted the spot next to him.

  “Actually, I would mind,” Donna said.

  Paul looked at her evenly over the steaming coffee. “If you’re waiting for an apology, you’re going to be disappointed.” He looked around. “This is a family matter.”

  “You’re not Josh’s only family,” Donna said, her voice steely.

  Paul looked at William. “Will?”

  “You did the right thing, getting away and taking care of yourself. But you did the wrong thing staying away.”

  “I called Josh every day. If he didn’t tell you that, it might be for the same reason that I’m not apologizing to you. It’s none of your business.” He walked towards the door. “I’m going to try to get a couple of hours of sleep. Then I’m going to go get my brother. I’d appreciate you letting me do it alone.” He walked out.

  Donna glared at the door. “He’s got a lot of gall. I’m sympathetic to his situation, but you can’t…” She looked over at William. “What do you think?”

  “He’s got to learn that part about our being Josh’s family, too. But we’ve got to remember there are things between those two that we’ll never know.”

  “But does that excuse what he did to Josh?”

  “Josh is no fool. He had to know there was a chance that Paul wasn’t coming back. And if he didn’t, then he learned something, didn’t he? Either way, it’s between the two of them.”

  Donna looked to Lucky. “What’s your take?”

  “I’m not the one to ask. I had it five-to-two he’d never show his face here again. But he did, even knowin how we’d all feel. You gotta give him credit for that.”

  They expected Josh and Paul back by one. The Gimp had come up and he and Clark had fired up the grill. But one o’clock came and went, then two, and still no sign. The afternoon wore on and the coals lost their strength. Shortly after four, Paul’s rental car came through the gate and stopped in front of the L. Everyone came out onto the porch but no one advanced further. Then, as Josh got out of the driver’s side, Harry slid from his mother’s hold and ran down the steps, jumping into Josh’s arms. With that, everyone moved towards the car.

  Josh looked fresh and fit. His hair had grown out slightly and his beard was a week old. His breath smelled of beer. He handed Harry back to Donna and walked to the passenger’s side, extracting a red-eyed Paul from his seat belt. He pulled him to his feet and wrapped Paul’s arm around his shoulder.

  “C’mon, Paulie. Let’s get some coffee into you.”

  CHAPTER 34

  The VW van was backed up to the L. Pete and Harry were inside the van, packing the boxes, bags and camping equipment that the rest of Moetown was passing in. “We’ve got room for a little box back here,” Harry’s voice knifed from the rear. “Do we have any little boxes, Josh?”

  Inside the L, Donna and Alexis were putting the finishing touches on the last two pieces: PBJ and Twinkies, plus a flask of apple juice in Harry’s Flintstones lunch box and William’s special bologna/salami sandwich in Pete’s old construction box, a chipped square of metal.

  Donna, her hair tucked up in a scarf, walked out onto the porch. “Boys, are you sure you don’t want me to lay something in for dinner?”

  Pete nudged Harry, who looked up. His father shook his head. “No way, Mom,” Harry shouted. “We’re catching our dinner tonight.”

  Donna looked at Carol, who said, “Lucky says 3
to 1 they wind up at McDonald’s.”

  The van packed to his satisfaction, Harry let Donna lead him away for a final trip to the bathroom. Pete joined Alexis, Paul and Josh on the porch.

  “How far are you planning to get today?”

  “Somewhere near Truckee. Hike in and camp, do a little fishing. Then car camp across Nevada and Utah. Pick up Donna in Denver and then camp our way back through the Rockies.”

  “How come Donna’s not going with you?” asked Paul, who had flown in the night before.

  “She’s got a big speech in San Francisco on Saturday, then she’ll fly out and meet us. I don’t know if she’s bullshitting us or not, but she says she’s really looking forward to the Rockies and camping with us.” He smiled. “We’ll see.”

  A few minutes later, as Paul and Josh went over the van one more time, checking the engine and tires, Paul and Alexis were alone on the porch. “Have you been to Le Jardin yet?” he asked.

  “I’ve dropped a few fares there, but haven’t been inside yet. Supposed to have quite a spa.”

  “Their restaurant is four-star, the only one between here and San Francisco. The maître d’ is a friend. Would you be interested in joining me for dinner one night this week?”

  “Le Jardin?” Carol had walked out of the L as Paul was speaking. “Someone’s looking to get lucky.”

  Alexis laughed, Paul joining in belatedly. “Goddamn, Carol, we should put a bell around your neck.” Carol waved as she made her way down to the van. “How about it?”

  “Getting lucky or Le Jardin?” Alexis said. When she saw Paul frown, she said, “I’m only joking. Sure. I’d like to go. Can I bring a date?”

  Donna walked back from Number Three, Harry’s hand tight around three of her fingers. She handed Harry over to Josh and pulled Pete into the L. They emerged moments later, Pete’s arm around her shoulder, her arms, tight around his waist. She released him at the driver’s door and he climbed into the van.

  Harry’s goodbye was quick but strong. As he hugged his mother, he pushed his face so tightly into hers that when he pulled back and climbed up next to his father, Donna wore a thin rush of pink just below her eye. As the van moved through the gate, Pete’s arm slid out of the driver’s side in a broad, single-stroke wave; Harry’s blonde head was framed against the green forest as he waved with both arms.

  Set on a promontory twenty miles north of San Tomas, Le Jardin was renowned for its understated luxury. In addition to its restaurant, whose lighting, tones and furniture spoke of subtle money, it featured a series of clifftop bungalows, a spa and an Olympic swimming pool. Alexis sat across the linen-draped table from Paul. She gazed out the window at the spectacular coastal view that was featured in so many books about the California experience. Her hair was up, her face bore the first make-up she’d worn since moving to Moetown. She wore a black crushed-silk jumpsuit set off by a single strand of pearls.

  “You look great,” Paul said, pouring them both a glass of the wine that had been decanted early that day, awaiting their arrival.

  “It’s the surroundings. And the soft light.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. I learned a few years back that evening light is a girl’s best friend.”

  He nodded at her outfit. “You can’t play humble with that outfit. I did a shoot a while back for GQ. I know what it costs.”

  “A remnant from another time. I almost had to sell it before the driving thing kicked in.”

  She looked back out the window, taking in the dark coast all the way down to the cluster of lights that signaled San Tomas. “What’s tonight about, Paul? I appreciate the invitation, but this…” She motioned around them. “…is a bit extravagant.”

  “Everyone spends their money on different things. This is how I like to spend mine. Plus we’ve done a couple of shoots here, so I get comped a lot. Usually before I head up to Moetown, I come here for a day or two—enjoy the room service, get a massage.”

  “And I’m here because…?”

  “I guess I’m trying to recruit you. I’ve taken some of the others here in the past and they look at the price tag—even though I’m picking up the tab—and they can’t get comfortable.” He smiled. “All except Lucky. He’ll come here as often as I’ll take him.”

  He raised his glass. “So I’m hoping the socialists up the hill haven’t corrupted you yet.”

  She raised her glass. “Well, at least I’m warned.”

  She took a sip and savored it. Then she held a finger up. “I’ve had this before.” She took another sip and held it. Then she swallowed. “It’s a Brunello. Banfi, right?”

  A small smile. “My, my. You know your wines.”

  “Another time, another life.” She nodded as the glass. “But some things you remember.”

  “You miss that life at all?”

  “Not until I tasted that, I didn’t.”

  “Seriously.”

  “Seriously. I liked the life I had back then. But that time—and that person—are gone. I like who I am now, where I’ve wound up and the people I’m with.”

  “In general, or right now?”

  “In general, definitely.” She put down the wine. “Right now? Tougher to say.”

  His face tried to hold the smile. “Why”

  “Because I like to know what’s what. And this feels like a date without your calling it one.”

  “And if it were?”

  “I’d say that it’s because, outside of Carol and Donna, I’m the only unattached woman on the mountain who doesn’t own her own kiln or braid her underarm hair.”

  He smiled. “And if I were serious?”

  “Then I’d tell you I wasn’t interested.” She took another sip and let it settle. “Look, Paul, let’s be honest here. You’re not my type and I’m not yours. Maybe at one time we were, but not now. To be honest, I think the only reason you’re interested in me—if you are at all—is because I’m more interested in your brother than I am in you.” She looked at him. “Tell me if I’m wrong.”

  He took his time answering. “You’re wrong,” he said. “At least, I think you are. But, to be honest, I wouldn’t know.”

  She halfway smiled. “You’re saying that, growing up there wasn’t one girl who found Josh more attractive than you?”

  “Maybe. But that attraction—or interest—was never reciprocated. Ever.” When she started to say something he shook his head and picked up his menu. “Let’s order. I’m not going to spoil this evening by letting Josh join the party.”

  After dinner the manager gave Alexis a tour of the facilities. The last of the Brunello in their glasses, they toured the spa, an unoccupied room and finished up on the terrace. Paul motioned down at the surf below. “One of the nice things they do for guests here is bring picnic lunches down to the beach. A nice red and white checkered tablecloth and a basket filled with cheeses and pates, plus the wine or beverage of your choice. Next time I’m up here, if you’re interested, we can make a day of it. Use the spa, have a picnic—whatever you’d like.”

  Noting that Paul had drank more of the Brunello, Alexis volunteered to drive back. Paul ceded the keys to Lucky’s jeep to her and sat back, letting the silence build comfortably as they drove. “How come neither of you talks about your childhood? Everyone else I know has some sort of story, funny or not, about growing up.”

  “There’s not much pleasant in either of our memory banks about Baltimore, that’s why. All I remember was that it was poor, grey and tough.”

  “What do you remember most about your parents?”

  “That they died. And too soon.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You know, that’s always bugged me, when someone says they’re sorry after you tell them about your parents. I mean, you didn’t kill them. The neighborhood did. The work, the grind. That’s what killed them, as m
uch as the disease.”

  “What about girls? Were you the male model even then?”

  He laughed. “Even then. But remember: my competition was guys named Zit and Mole.”

  She smiled. “How about Josh? Was he the monk back then?”

  “Josh? He had as many girlfriends as I did early on. Hell, he was as interested in girls as I was up until…” He stopped and looked over at her through the darkness. “You’re good. At least with Carol my antenna’s always up.”

  Alexis didn’t object. She kept her eyes on the road. “What happened to Josh back then, Paul? Why is he so afraid of women?”

  His bitter laugh cut the darkness. “You’ve got it backwards. You should be afraid of him.”

  They drove the rest of the way in silence. When the car pulled up in front of Number Four, Alexis let it idle for a moment. “Well, outside of a few awkward moments, I had a very nice time. I want you to know that I didn’t come this evening to pump you for info on Josh.” Shutting down the engine, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “And yes, as long as we’re clear on where we stand, you’ve got a partner in crime anytime you want to return to Le Jardin. Seems like I don’t have the good life out of my blood the way I thought I did.”

  Three days later, Alexis and Carol sat in the crowded auditorium at the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco, watching Donna deliver the convening speech for the symposium on “Women and Politics.” The audience was five hundred representatives from different government agencies, social programs and political organizations from around the world. The focus of the three-day conference was: how to accelerate change in today’s political and social environments.

  Up until the week before the conference, Donna had planned on using her core speech, since this was to a new audience. But as she and Carol continued work on the new book, she began to jot notes in a small wire-bound notebook that she kept in her back pocket.

  On the drive up to San Francisco with Alexis and Carol, she said, “I’ve been wondering something lately. Why do I get so many invitations to speak? I mean, my message is basically pretty bleak. Who wants to hear from Jeremiah?” She looked over her shoulder at Carol in the back seat. “You’re my partner in all of this darkness. What do you think?”