“Yeah. Well, I mean, I think he has been, but not right then. I’m not even sure about it, anyway, but some guy has been, and I think it might be him.”
“What, was he in disguise or something?” she asked. She looked confused, but also kind of sympathetic and, sort of soft. And she leaned toward me and put her hand on my arm.
So, that’s how, without meaning to, I ended up telling Lavender the whole story. She listened while I told her about The Watcher and how Lynn and I had broken into my mom’s cabinet to find the pictures.
“You mean you didn’t even know what your own father looked like?” she asked. Her hand squeezed my arm a little.
“Nope. Not before today.”
“That must bite,” she said. “What did he do that was so terrible?”
“He yelled at me and my sister, and slapped us and stuff.”
“Yelled, and slapped you?” she echoed.
“Yeah, when we were little.”
“And that’s why you haven’t seen him since?”
“Not once.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” she said. She shook her head. “I mean, it doesn’t seem like enough of a reason for you to have never seen him since you were a little kid.”
“Yeah, well, we didn’t want to see him. My mom says we used to scream if anyone even mentioned his name.”
“That sounds kind of like...” Her voice trailed off and she dropped her hand to her side.
“Like what?”
“It’s not really my place to say, but it just sounds so much like the same thing that’s happening with my cousin, Kenny.”
“Which is what?”
“He and his wife — I should say ex-wife now — had a little boy four years ago, and when he was about two they split up. Now she’s telling everyone that Simon, their kid, is terrified of his father, and Kenny is having a terrible time getting to see his son.
“The worst thing is that Simon says Kenny did things to him – terrible things – like he pushed him down the stairs, only there’s no way any of it is true. You should have seen him with that kid — he was crazy about him. And Kenny wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less his own son.”
“Why would the kid make stuff like that up?” I asked.
“There’s only one possible answer,” Lavender told me. “Simon’s mother brainwashed him, to hurt Kenny and keep them apart. She programmed that poor kid to believe his father did awful things to him, so now Simon is scared of his own father.”
I stared at her.
“That didn’t happen with me and Lynn,” I said coldly. “Do you think my mom’s crazy or something? She wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse your mother of anything. It just sounded a lot like —”
“It’s nothing like that,” I said.
“So, forget I even mentioned it.” She smiled tentatively and touched my arm again.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. I shoved my anger aside and reminded myself that she was just trying to be helpful.
“Hey, I know what will loosen you up,” she said, taking my hand and tugging me with her through the living room. Sliding glass doors opened onto a small concrete balcony and she pulled me out onto it.
Then she reached into her jeans and the next thing she was holding a spliff. She lit it, took a pull, and held it out to me.
chapter twenty
I don’t remember my mouth ever going as dry as it did while I stood looking at the joint Lavender was holding out toward me. The smell rising from it told me it was pure bud.
It was by no means the first time I’d been offered weed since I quit toking, but it was one of the hardest. I shook my head and told myself I wasn’t tempted.
“You sure? It’s killer stuff.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“One hit?” she sucked in another lungful and held it, waiting for my answer.
“Look, I used to have a problem with this,” I said. “I don’t care what anyone else does, but I leave it alone now.”
Lavender shrugged and leaned back against the balcony railing, closing her eyes. She exhaled, a quick burst of smoke that broke up fast, took a third toke and squeezed the lit end to extinguish it. She pulled a folded piece of foil from her pocket, wrapped it and stuck it all back in her pocket.
I saw her body relaxing; a dreamy smile drifted across her face. Her eyes sparkled and shone.
“C’mere,” she said, holding a hand toward me.
I closed the short gap between us, felt her arms slide up around my neck, and leaned down to kiss her.
After a couple of minutes, I backed into the apartment, still holding her against me. We moved over to the couch but all of a sudden she pulled away and sprawled back.
“Give me a foot massage?” she said. She stuck one up and wiggled her toes.
“Uh, okay.” I’d never given a foot massage and I’ve gotta say the request was coming at a pretty strange time, but I was game. “What do I do?”
She gave me a few instructions at first but then stopped talking and murmured happy Mmm sounds while I rubbed her feet. I figured I was doing an okay job of it by the little noises she was making.
I was starting to worry that maybe this was going to put her to sleep, since she was getting more and more drowsy and relaxed looking. I tried talking to her but she didn’t answer and I was casting about in my head for some other way of waking her up without getting her mad, when the apartment door opened.
A pair of teens came into the kitchen. I recognized the guy as Lavender’s brother Mick. He’s a year ahead of us in school. The girl on his arm looked to be a few years younger, though she’d done her best to pass as older than she was. She had on a short, tight black skirt, a thin yellow shirt that left a roll of belly exposed, and some kind of shoes with big platforms. She seemed to be wearing an awful lot of makeup, though I don’t actually know much about that stuff. I do know that there was a lot of gunk on her eyes, and her mouth was almost the colour of her skirt, which you’d hope wasn’t the way the poor kid was born. She walked with a slinky sort of sway that might have been sexy if it had been even slightly natural.
“Hey Mick, hey Arlene,” Lavender said. At least their entrance had drawn her back to the land of the living.
“Yeah, hi. Do you know where Mom and Dad are?” Mick said.
“Dunno, I just got home half an hour ago myself. Oh, uh, this is Porter. Mick, Arlene.”
We all mumbled greetings and then Mick said he’d been hoping one of his parents would be home because he needed some cash. And — like a sudden afterthought — did Lavender have any money? She answered that she was broke.
Mick shot a couple of glances my way and for a second I thought he was going to ask me for money. Twice he started to speak but I guess some remaining speck of dignity fought against it because his voice trailed off after he’d gotten out half a word.
“You got any smoke?” Arlene asked. I saw that she had the attitude younger kids put out there when they’re trying to sound tough and sophisticated. It never works. In her case, she came across as hostile — for no reason.
“Nope,” Lavender lied.
“That gram is gone already?” Mick asked. He frowned at me like I must have smoked it.
“Back off, Mick,” Lavender said lazily.
He glared at her and then grumbled that he was going to get some CDs to listen to at some guy named Allen’s place.
After he disappeared down the hall, Arlene let out a sigh and then came into the living room and plunked down on the arm of the couch. She had her lips stuck out in what my ex-girlfriend used to call the “Angelina Jolie pose.” It made her look like a pouting two-year-old.
“I could really use a little something to get me right,” she said. “We were at a party last night — it was totally sick — and anyway, this guy there had some blow that was barely stepped on. We got completely wrecked. It was insane but I’m feeling a bit sketchy today.”
I’d been wondering why neither Mick nor Arlene had noticed that Lavender was high, but that pretty much explained it. They were too fogged to think about anything except getting smoothed out.
Lavender murmured a couple of sympathetic things after Arlene had unburdened her sad story, but she also made a point of catching my eye, winking, and casually tapping the pocket that held the remains of her spliff.
Mick seemed to take his time picking out the CDs and Arlene took that opportunity to roll her eyes upward and yawn. I assume she meant to let us know how bored she was to be sitting there instead of doing the cool doper things she usually did.
“Let’s go,” Mick said, when he finally reappeared. He jerked his head toward the door and Arlene shoved herself to her feet and walked heavily in that direction.
They’d barely shut the door behind them when Lavender turned to me. “Alone at last,” she said, then added a low, throaty, “mu-wah-ha-ha!”
“Yes, at last,” I said. I laughed in a way that was supposed to sound lecherous in a joking way. Instead, it came out like someone a bit demented.
Lavender giggled and shifted to a sitting position. I was all for that, but before I could even get my arm around her she was on her feet.
“We need music!” she said. “To dance.”
“Uh …” I hesitated, not really wanting to refuse, but knowing there was no way I was going to get up and dance. I really suck at it.
“You wanna join … or watch?” she asked. Her eyes were wet and shining. “’Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you this dance I invented.”
“Go,” I said, glad to have a way out handed to me.
“I call this ‘Roastin’ the Ghetto Bootie,’” she said, making it sound like a big announcement.
“Roastin’ the Ghetto Bootie? Serious?”
“Uh-huh. Watch,” she said as she made a music selection.
“Travelin’ Band” — an old CCR tune — came blasting out a few seconds later and Lavender turned, put a finger to her lips and then proceeded with, as she called it, Roastin’ the Ghetto Bootie.
It was like she half exploded, twitching and spazzing all over the place. It seemed that there were more arms and legs flying around than one girl could possibly have and I had to duck a few times or I’d have been clobbered.
When it was over she clapped for herself, jumping up and down like a little kid. I smiled watching her, clapped, too, and whistled, and wished she’d come over and sit with me again.
She did — so, naturally her mother chose that moment to come through the door. Lavender introduced us and Mrs. Dean told me it was nice to meet me and that she wished she’d known Lavender was going to have a friend over because she’d have planned dinner to include me, instead of bringing home just enough take-out for the family.
The invitation to leave didn’t bother me a bit. I headed home feeling good about how things had gone with Lavender. That lasted about half a block. Then I started thinking about some of the things I’d managed to push off to the side while I’d been with her.
By the time I got to my place, the questions had flooded back in.
Was the Watcher my father? And what did he want?
chapter twenty-one
Lynn was acting weird when I got home. Or, I should say, she was acting absolutely normal, which in itself was weird, because she didn’t mention a single word about the way I’d freaked and stormed out earlier. And trust me, Lynn is not the type to let something like that go.
Normally, she’d have dug for it until I either fed her a lie to shut her up, or got really mad, or (as happens in rare situations) actually told her what she wanted to know. Just to get her off my back.
But that time, nothing. I knew it could only mean she was up to something herself, and I was right. I hadn’t been home for fifteen minutes when she came over to where I was sitting on the couch, and cleared her throat. With Lynn, throat clearing is a sure sign that she’s about to ask me for a favour. I pretended I didn’t hear her.
Mom, who was home for a change, tried to give me a signal. I acted oblivious to that, too.
“Uh, Porter?” Lynn said when she saw I wasn’t going to bite.
“Yeah?”
“I just wanted to mention that, uh, Conor is coming over.”
“Conor?”
“Yeah. I invited him for dinner. And I’d like a nice, pleasant meal without anyone bringing up things that might cause trouble.”
“Such as?” Like I didn’t know.
“You know, like Daryl. You won’t mention that I was out with him, will you?”
I was tempted to tell her, yeah, I would mention it. If she wanted to go around acting like some kind of skank, she should expect him to find out about it.
But then I got a flash of her that morning, bawling her head off with her whole body shaking and shuddering.
“Yeah, okay. Don’t worry about it,” I said.
“Thanks!” She hugged me and looked relieved. “’Cause he should be here any minute.”
It was actually another twenty minutes before he showed up and by then Lynn had started to pace and run back and forth to the living room window to see if she could spot him coming along the sidewalk. I could tell she was getting worried that he wasn’t coming.
I’d started to worry a bit myself. After all, if they patched things up she’d be moving back out. It hadn’t been the worst thing in the world having her around, but I wouldn’t be sorry to see her leave, either. Get things back to normal.
When Conor finally got there he had a bouquet of flowers for her. Lynn went on a bit more than necessary, considering it was just one of those cheap mixed bouquets from a grocery store. I heard her whisper, “You really do love me,” to him and that made me feel like speaking up and telling her she shouldn’t need flowers to tell her that — she should know it from the fact that the guy had been putting up with her for years. But they were hugging and looking sappy so I kept it to myself.
We all sat down at the table then and Lynn started dishing up the food. I could see she’d done her best to make a fancy meal. Unfortunately, the cheese sauce was thick and lumpy and the vegetables she poured it over were limp and soggy. Besides that, she’d made scalloped potatoes which, judging by the burnt smell in the apartment, had boiled over in the oven. The last item on the table was ham — one of those round things sliced down the middle. She’d stuck pineapple slices all around the outside of it and at least it looked okay.
Conor told Lynn that the food smelled great, which it might have if we’d actually been able to smell it over the burned milk in the oven. He dragged me into the lie by adding, “doesn’t it, Porter?”
“Yeah, great,” I said. Lynn started to stick her tongue out at me but rearranged it into a smile when Conor happened to glance over at her.
There was a lot of smiling going on, in fact, and a little hand-holding under the table. Lynn looked happy and I was glad for her. I just wished she hadn’t gone out with that other guy. It made me feel like I was lying to Conor.
While we ate, Mom kept commenting about how nice it was to see Conor and what a good guy he was and how she’d always said so. Just a shade different from the tune she’d been singing when Lynn came home, as I recalled.
I wondered, a couple of times, how Conor could be sitting there swallowing all of this without realizing that something was a shade off. But it wasn’t my problem and when I thought about it later, it occurred to me that maybe he did know, on some level, that things weren’t quite genuine. And maybe he decided to just let whatever it was go, and play along with the act.
After we’d eaten, I called Tack’s place, but his kid brother Lemon (his name is actually Lemuel but everyone calls him Lemon) told me he had gone somewhere with Teisha.
Suddenly restless, I couldn’t see hanging around the apartment, so I decided to kick around the neighbourhood for a while, maybe drop by Pockets later on. I’d just started down the hall when Lynn called me back.
“Phone for you,” she said
. “Some girl.”
“Hello?” I said, hoping it was Lavender. It was.
“You doing anything?” she asked.
“Not really. I was just going to take a walk, see if anyone was around.”
“Why don’t you come by my place and I’ll go with you.”
“Sure.” I hung the phone up and turned to see Lynn watching me with a dumb smile, like she knew a big secret. She caught me before I could get back out the door.
“Someone special?” she asked very softly. I knew she was keeping it down so Mom wouldn’t start with the questions. She always gives me the third degree when I’m seeing someone.
“Just a girl,” I said. “She’s okay.”
“Well, anyway, have a good time.” Then she hugged me, real quick.
It took me fifteen minutes or so to get to Lavender’s place. I found her out in front of the building sitting on a bench waiting. She jumped up to meet me on the walk and something in her movement reminded me of the funny dance she’d done that afternoon.
“Hey,” I said when she got close. I could smell her shampoo.
“You rescued me,” she said, falling into step beside me. “My mom’s gone to her sister’s place for the evening and my dad rented an old movie. He was trying to persuade me to watch it with him.”
“Do you two watch movies together very often?”
“Yeah, sure. But it depends on the show. He talked me into watching Apocalypse Now one time and I swear it was the most depressing thing I’ve ever seen.”
“The horror!” I said, in what seemed to me a passable imitation of Brando in that film. It had been the only thing on TV one night, so I’d watched it. I thought it was pretty good.
Apparently, that particular part hadn’t made much of an impression on Lavender. She looked at me nervously.
“From the movie,” I explained. “Apocalypse Now.”
“Oh, right.” She smiled but I could see she had something else on her mind. It didn’t take long for her to bring it up.
“You religious or something?”
“Religious?” The question startled me. It was the last thing I’d expected from her. “Not really. I mean, I believe in God, I guess, but we don’t go to church or anything.”
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