In the Shape of a Man

by Paul Clayton

  Allen spoke to the mother and told her that he would treat Reynaldo as if he were his own son, and to not worry. As the words were leaving his mouth, he realized that probably every other soon-to-adopt parent in the state said the same sort of thing. Nevertheless, he felt sincere as he said it and he believed the woman picked up on that. Tina said the same thing, more or less, as the mother watched her mutely.

  When Tina finished, the woman said something softly in her own language, seemingly a question, to Doris.”

  Doris smiled in response.

  “Any idea what she said?” Allen asked.

  Doris shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t have a clue.”

  Maria looked down demurely at her feet, saying nothing further, and the meeting concluded.

  Despite the mother’s physical beauty, Allen had suspected that there was something broken inside her, something that was not right, as if she’d suffered some great loss. Or perhaps, more likely, she’d been terribly traumatized by something. There were all those guerrilla wars going on down there. How else could you account for how she treated her own kid, abandoning him at birth, as if there was something wrong with him?

  After the meeting, there had been visits from the social workers to make sure the house was okay. Sharp edges on furniture were pointed out and Allen covered these with wadded-up paper towels and tape. The water temperature was measured and Allen was instructed to adjust it lower, which he did. The paint in the house was scraped and tested but no lead was found.

  The pristine beautiful blue of Crystal Springs Reservoir came into view as Allen rounded a curve in 280. Running parallel to the little peaks of the Santa Cruz Mountains, the long, narrow lake was one of a half dozen, all in a straight line if seen from high overhead, like the perforations in fanfold computer paper, all of them part of the San Andreas Fault line. A large bright white splotch appeared in the center of the lake. Allen noted that it was not in the water, but rather, sitting on the surface, like white Styrofoam packing peanuts floating on a puddle. Allen returned his eyes to the road. A moment later he glanced again at the lake as the white spot rose up suddenly to become a whirling cloud of seagulls.

  Allen and Tina had a second picnic in the park visit with Reynaldo and then they were allowed to bring him back to their own home for a visit. Allen remembered the proud smile on Tina’s face as she carried Reynaldo up the driveway. Their neighbors at that time, Gloria and Phil Thomas, an older, retired couple, were sitting on their porch and came over to the railing to see the boy.

  “Is that him?” asked Gloria.

  Tina nodded without pausing as she carried the boy straight into the house. Allen had stopped for a few minutes to chat with them, answering some of their questions. Thinking back, Allen was not sure if it had been because of the fog that was starting to come off the mountain that day and her fear of Reynaldo possibly catching a cold, or if it had been out of possessiveness, born out of such a long-held desire to hold a child in her arms, a child that was hers, or soon would be, and not a friend’s or relative’s that would have to be given back as soon as it began to fuss and cry. Either way, Tina’s haste to get Reynaldo inside their house that day had surprised and heartened him. Two weeks later Reynaldo came to live with them permanently. They were no longer just a couple. They had become a family.

  Allen took the Mathilda exit and was soon walking through the FMC facility corridors. Allen’s immediate boss, Larry Childers, and Paul Kerr were in Larry’s little office, arguing as usual, this time over Paul’s proposed changes to the budget. In the next little office, Jim, the systems analyst, was shooting the bull with Helen, the new temp. Allen looked in the office of Ron Nadler, the department manager. He wanted to give him a few details on why he’d missed the previous day.

  Ron looked up and nodded as Allen came in. “You’re back.”

  Ron was a light-skinned African-American engineer who had been promoted to supervisor three years earlier. Ron was very supportive of his people, something the last supervisor had not been, and most of the people in the department, Allen among them, liked him a lot.

  Allen closed the door and sat down. “Yeah, sorry I couldn’t come in yesterday. I’ll make up the time. Tina and I had a big fight the night before, and Reynaldo wasn’t feeling good.”

  Ron nodded, waiting for Allen to go on.

  “Tina just started a new job,” Allen lied, “and she can’t take any time off right now. So I had to take Reynaldo to the doctor and stay with him.”

  Ron chuckled. “Well, these things happen sometimes. It’ll straighten out.”

  Allen nodded.

  “I have some news for you,” said Ron.

  Allen leaned forward with interest.

  “Was Childers out there?” Ron asked.

  Allen nodded.

  Ron softened his voice and said conspiratorially, “Childers has…” Ron looked off to the left as he sought the right words. “… let’s just say he’s stepped on too many toes around here and more than a couple people have gone to Human Resources about it.”

  Allen nodded, knowing how tempting that option had seemed to him at times. But, believing that it would have hurt his own career more, he had put up with Childers’ excesses.

  “They’re gonna bench him,” said Ron.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” said Ron, “and when they do I gotta put a new man in there. I want that to be you.”

  Allen nodded appreciatively as he considered what it would mean.

  “Childers has four people, including you, to supervise. But Linda has been doing his budget for him, in addition to her other duties, so she would continue to do that with you in charge. It’ll be a good opportunity for you, Allen. But you will have to put in a little more time.”

  Allen frowned as he nodded. He had already been thinking about that, how much he could do without stressing his already-stressed marriage. Maybe with the increase in pay he could get a nanny for the kids. “What kind of increase would come with the promotion?”

  “It would be about twenty five percent,” said Ron.

  Allen’s mind raced. That might be enough to get a nanny for the kids. If you were going to rise up the corporate ladder you had to be available, had to put in long hours… and with Tina demanding that he take care of Reynaldo… that wouldn’t work. But now…

  “Well,” said Allen, “I’m definitely interested.”

  “Good,” said Ron. “This has to go through Human Resources, and these things can take time. So, be thinking about it and I’ll let you know the minute I hear something from HR.”

  Allen nodded.

  “So,” said Ron, “how’s the kid doing today?”

  “He’s pretty much back to normal,” said Allen. “But my wife was a little bit angry with him.”

  Ron frowned with concern. “Why?”

  Allen nodded. “She thinks he took his coat off and that’s why he got sick.”

  Ron folded his hands over his stomach and shook his head. Allen marveled at how large Ron’s hands were. He had been a boxer in his younger days.

  “Maybe she’s going through the change,” said Ron.

  Allen nodded. “I thought of that too, but she’s only forty three.”

  Ron raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Some of ‘em start younger than that. You ever talk to her about going to the doctor? Or about counseling?”

  Allen nodded. “She won’t hear of it. She insists that there’s nothing wrong with her.”

  “What about a priest? She’s Catholic, right?”

  “Yeah. Same thing. She won’t go.” Allen shook his head. “It’s kind of a challenge.”

  Ron nodded as he looked at Allen thoughtfully. “Does she have any history of violence?”

  For some reason Allen suddenly thought of the cat. He couldn’t even remember what they’d named it. He had gotten it for Tina a couple of years before they’d adopted Reynaldo, in the hopes that it would help ease her pain over not being able to get pregnant. A tabb
y, it was only about two months old, still a kitten. She had loved it in the beginning, holding it, letting it sit in her lap. Then she discovered that it had been crapping behind the refrigerator. She went into a rage and kicked it clear across the kitchen. He took it back to the Humane Society the next day and told them that they had to move and could not have pets in their new apartment.

  “Not that I know of,” he said.

  Chapter 15

  Fatigue and a vague sense of worry weighed Allen down as he took his exit off the freeway and drove down from Daly City on Westborough Boulevard. As he drew nearer to home his mood darkened with the long gathering shadows of day’s end. He thought about Don’s offer and how it might help. Allen’s friend, Larry Fong, had gotten his MBA and gone into business. Now Larry and his wife Cecilia had a nanny for their two kids. Allen wondered what life would be like with a nanny for the kids. It would certainly take the pressure off Tina. And him too, because then he could stop worrying about the kids when he was away.

  Allen pulled up to the house. Everything looked okay. So far so good, he thought, his mood brightening a bit. He let himself in.

  Christine watched TV on the couch. She didn’t turn her head or greet him.

  “Hello, Christine,” he said

  Entranced by the cartoon characters on the screen, she didn’t hear him. Allen wondered why Reynaldo wasn’t watching too and he grew apprehensive. As he hung up his jacket, he heard Tina let one of the cupboard doors slam shut in the kitchen. When she did not greet him he knew something had happened.

  “Hi, Honey,” he called in to her. “I’m home.”

  She said nothing, continuing her preparations for dinner.

  Allen walked down the hall to Reynaldo’s door. The little guy sat at his desk, pencil in hand. Allen went in. Reynaldo’s eyes were reddened from crying. “What’s the matter, Reynaldo?”

  Reynaldo held out his hand. “Mommy hit me.”

  A reddened welt was visible on Reynaldo’s knuckle. Tears welled up in his eyes and Allen realized that Tina was standing behind him, looking down angrily at Reynaldo.

  “Now you’re going to lie to Daddy, aren’t you?” said Tina.

  Reynaldo said nothing as tears ran down his cheeks.

  The boy’s obvious pain upset Allen but he kept his tone calm. “What happened, Honey?”

  Tina glared at Reynaldo. “He kept making the same sloppy mistakes on his work so I smacked his hands, that’s all.”

  Allen frowned. “Honey, if you’re hitting him hard enough to bruise him, that’s too hard.”

  Tina began to grow agitated and moved into the room closer to Reynaldo. Allen put his body between her and the boy. He felt awkward and dramatic doing it, but some instinct told him to.

  Tina peered suspiciously down at Reynaldo’s hands. “He did that to himself! I didn’t hit him that hard. He must have been in here rubbing and scratching his hand. That’s why it’s so red.”

  Allen wanted to believe her, but couldn’t. It strained credulity to think that Reynaldo was devious enough to do that. “Really?” he said flatly, stalling for time.

  “Really?” said Tina in a mocking tone. “Really? Why do you always fall for his tricks? Huh? He’s going to break up this family. Don’t you see it?”

  “I’m not falling for anything, Tina,” said Allen, “I’m just...”

  “I’m just... I’m just...” said Tina, mocking him. She walked out of the room.

  Tina would not say another word to Allen and after dinner he left the house. He got in the van, slammed the door, and drove up to Hillside, turning toward downtown. On his left, the gentle slopes of San Bruno Mountain had turned tan in the heat of early summer. The sight of the little mountain range had always soothed him, especially from the air whenever he flew into the Bay Area. Then the mountains appeared to be covered with velour—green in winter, tan in summer. God, if there really was a God, had given reign to his artistic side when he created them. But now the colors and textures held nothing for him.

  Allen stepped down hard on the gas pedal and the smooth power of the van’s V-6 calmed him slightly. He thought about how the van could deliver him from all of his pain and strife. All he had to do was head out on the highway. He had everything he needed—two credit cards, the clothes on his back. It was like that song by Bruce Springsteen, something about having a wife and kids and going out for a walk and never returning. Could he leave his kids like that? How could any man do that? But Tina was beginning to bring him to an understanding of how. She was refusing to listen to any of his concerns, closing all the doors. He’d asked her if she would go with him to see the therapist the next time and she had flatly refused, telling him mockingly, “There’s nothing wrong with me! You’re the one with a problem.” Maybe he could find someone who could help her, could help them, a woman therapist, a priest. But, if not... Allen couldn’t finish the thought.

  Allen turned the radio on, finding some blues-y jazz that suited his mood. He turned it up loud as the van ate up the rode hungrily. It was a good vehicle. They’d had it for a long time and gotten good service out of it. Allen remembered buying it just weeks after getting Reynaldo. It was a Saturday. The local Ford dealer was having a sale. Tina suggested they go look at minivans. They did and one thing led to another. He didn’t care that they’d decided to buy it on a whim on a Saturday afternoon. Vans were for families and that’s what they had become. The fact that it was Tina’s idea made it even nicer. She wanted it for them, the family, so they could take drives in the country in a vehicle that had room in the back for Reynaldo to nap if he wanted, or so she could have room to change his diaper—at two he still hadn’t been completely potty trained.

  At the bottom of Hillside, Allen turned south. Something clanged metallically and started rolling around in the back. He pulled over on Chestnut, got out and opened the sliding door to the back. The shiny aluminum tube support for the camp table had come loose. The table was about as big as a large pizza, but the three of them had used it on their first camping trip together. That had been his idea—to celebrate getting Reynaldo by going camping. Tina’s contribution had been to insist that they have the van outfitted with a nice convertible camp bed and a table. They had used the bed and table twice in five years. But that first trip was beautiful, at least the beginning and the end, but not the middle. He would never have suggested it if they had known how frail Reynaldo still was. The social workers hadn’t made that clear enough to them. He didn’t blame them though. Finding homes for kids that nobody else wanted required a bit of salesmanship.

  They had gone to Grizzly Creek State Park up near Eureka. The weather had been terrible. It rained for three days and nights. Reynaldo didn’t mind; he spent his time pushing his little car around on the rollout bed, or looking at the pictures in his books, or watching as the raindrops on the windows formed rivulets and ran down. And Tina and he didn’t mind either, at least not at first. In fact, they later calculated that that trip was when and where Christine had been conceived. But after three days of rain they’d had enough. Allen got the map out of the glove compartment and decided to take Route 130, a twisting hairline scratch on the map, compared to the bolded and red lines of freeways and highways. The road would take them up over the mountains and down the other side into the valley to Redding where, he excitedly told Tina, the weather was always hot and for sure there would be several good, Mexican restaurants. They could also check into a motel for a few days and dry out. So they packed everything up and started up the mountain.

  Allen figured it would take them an hour to cross; it took over three. The weather was miserable most of the way, either pouring or drizzling, and cold and clammy, and the road was challenging, one lane in many places, and winding, very winding. But it wasn’t oncoming traffic that held them up—there wasn’t any to speak of—it was Reynaldo. The many twists and turns in the road made him nauseous and he started throwing up. Tina looked frightened as she cradled him in her arms on the side of the road whe
re they had stopped to rest. Allen wasn’t worried, at least not at first. A lot of kids got carsick. He had as a kid. But it soon became apparent that they couldn’t drive a hundred feet without Reynaldo throwing up, poor little guy. He didn’t cry; he just grew weaker. And Tina grew angrier with Allen, and Allen felt like a fool and a punching bag. It had been a bad idea, he agreed with Tina, but how could he have known it would turn out this way? And now they had no choice but to push on or they would never get down the mountain and into Redding. They drove on for another few minutes and again had to stop as Reynaldo vomited. Bile hung from his mouth in thick gelatinous threads. Tina angrily harangued Allen for his stupidity, for the lack of traffic, for the rain, for the cold, for suggesting the camping trip in the first place, as she worriedly fretted over Reynaldo. Allen didn’t have the heart to argue with her. He felt like crap. But Reynaldo felt a lot worse and Allen was very concerned.

  Allen drove the van slowly, cursing the road, hoping stupidly that some other car would arrive from the other direction driven by someone who could help them with Reynaldo, maybe a police car or a car driven by a doctor or nurse. But no one came and Reynaldo grew weaker. Allen prayed silently. He apologized to God for abandoning Him and begged Him to deliver them from their nightmare. Finally the road straightened out and Allen drove faster, leaving the cold wet gloom behind as they raced down the mountain toward the dry flatlands and Redding.

  Allen got them a room in the first decent motel they came to. Tina gave little Reynaldo some glucose drink and Tylenol. His temperature disappeared and he was soon scooting his little car across the bedspread. They showered, then napped, then left the motel room to buy a delicious meal in a nice, family-run Mexican restaurant. That night they watched a mindless old Laurel and Hardy comedy on the motel room TV, laughing uproariously with relief. They had made it. They had been lost in the wilderness, but they had finally made it out. Now they were dry and warm and happy. And they had “bonded” as the expression went.