Sutherland

by Karen Trailor Thomas

  “Your stuff,” Jennalee said.

  “It’s just stuff,” Harley replied. “I got what’s important.”

  “Your folks’ stuff, though.”

  “It’s not like we have valuables.”

  “Where will you sleep?” Jennalee asked.

  “Remember those sleeping bags at the park? I see camping ahead tonight.”

  Jennalee beamed. “That’s so cool. I want to camp with you. I’ve got a sleeping bag.”

  “Fine with me,” Harley said, “but your folks may not like it.”

  “No, they’ll be fine with it. They like you.”

  Just then Lizann Laidlaw tapped Jennalee on the shoulder. “What happened?” she asked.

  “A fire broke out in Noel’s room and spread.”

  “Oh, honestly,” Lizann said. “These people. Looks like we’ll be under the stars, Earl.”

  Earl Laidlaw stood beside his wife. He simply nodded.

  “Where are the bikes?” Harley asked. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

  “Way out in front. When we saw the commotion, we parked and walked over. Have you seen Garth?”

  “Nope.”

  When Lizann asked no more, Harley offered, “He’s with Andrea. I wouldn’t count on seeing him.”

  “He better show tomorrow.”

  “Always does,” noted Harley with a sigh.

  Jennalee was glad Garth was elsewhere. He’d changed so much since their time together. “What now?” she asked when she saw Phyllis making a fuss.

  “Who knows?” said Harley, but he took Jennalee’s hand and they strolled over.

  “I need a ride to the hospital,” Phyllis cried. “Can somebody take me? I don’t drive.”

  “We can get you there,” Jane said. “Your boys can stay with me.”

  “I’ll drive her,” Marian offered, stepping up. “You see to the boys.”

  “Good,” said Jane. “I appreciate that. Jennalee, come here. I want you to take the boys to our house and entertain them for a bit. I’ll be along soon.”

  “But Mom,” Jennalee whined.

  Harley cut her off. “I’ll go with you.”

  Phyllis took her sons into her arms and gave them instructions to be good, then walked them over to Harley and Jennalee. “Thank you,” she said as she handed over her two children, one crying, one grim.

  As she turned, the officer with Daniel came over. “Ma’am, I have to take your son into custody. He’s confessed to starting the fire.”

  Phyllis shrieked and collapsed against Marian Sutherland. She was again lowered to the ground, where Jane bent to soothe her. Harley and Jennalee started to get the boys away but little Clifford wouldn’t have it. “Mommy!” he cried, trying to break free of Harley’s grip on his shoulder.

  “She’s okay,” said Harley. “She’s just tired. She’ll be fine. Mrs. Preece and Mrs. Sutherland will take care of her.”

  “Lee, get the boys out of here,” Jane cried as Clifford continued to wail.

  “C’mon.” Harley scooped up the boy and carried him away. “Let’s go inside.”

  “No!” screamed the child, kicking in his captor’s arms, but Harley kept walking. Jennalee tried to put an arm around Robert’s shoulder, but he shrugged her off.

  By the time they reached the lobby, Clifford was down to quiet sobs. Harley had spoken to him the entire time they walked along and Jennalee wondered what he’d said. He seemed such a natural with kids, but then he seemed a natural with everyone. Except maybe Garth.

  The lobby was deserted, desk unmanned. Still, Jennalee thought the living quarters would be best. She took the lead and they all ventured into the Preece living room. Harley eased Clifford down onto one end of the gray sectional that occupied one corner while Robert stood looking around. “Sit down,” Harley told him. He did but cautiously, like he trusted not even a sofa.

  “You have a doll or stuffed animal Clifford can cuddle?” Harley asked Jennalee. “He needs something besides people right now.”

  “I do.” Jennalee rushed to her room and grabbed Bascomb Bunny. She was at the door with him when it hit her how private he was, her truest friend, in silent agreement with all she did. He knew everything and she hugged him tightly, then began looking around for somebody else.

  She’d never favored teddy bears so the stuffed animals on her shelf were a fat yellow duck, a brown squirrel, a tall penguin, and an elephant too small to live up to his species. The squirrel was the fluffiest, what with that big tail, but the duck was softer. She put Bascomb back on the bed and took up Buddy the duck, hugging him to test his powers of solace.

  The trouble with birds was the beak thing. How can you cuddle something with one of those, never mind it can’t actually snap or bite? Peter the penguin was the largest in the room, but he was stuffed to the point he resisted cuddling. Who needed a solid penguin? She reconsidered Simon the squirrel, but he looked new rather than loved so she turned back to Bascomb.

  “You’re just on loan,” she told him, even as she knew a traumatized child wouldn’t likely part with anything handed to him at such a time. Looking into Bascomb’s face, she let him decide and found in his blue button eyes and worn smile that he wanted to help.

  Back in the living room, Harley stood when she approached. Clifford had curled into himself, a tiny ball of boy now, face pink, eyes wet. “This is my good friend, Bascomb,” Jennalee said as she sat beside the boy. “He could use a hug.”

  She laid the lanky rabbit beside Clifford, who unfolded enough to pull Bascomb to him. With the rabbit against his cheek, the boy closed his eyes.

  Turning to Robert, Jennalee offered him a Coke. He nodded so she brought out three and they sat sipping and not talking until Jennalee couldn’t stand it. “How are you doing, Robert?”

  “Call me Bob, will you?” he said. “Everyone but my parents calls me that. I like it better. It’s who I am.”

  “Sure,” said Jennalee.

  “You got it,” added Harley.

  “So, Bob, do you play sports?” Jennalee asked.

  “Lacrosse.”

  “They had that at my school,” she noted. “I thought it was weird.”

  “It is,” he said, taking a swig of Coke. “I wanted to go out for baseball, but Dad said lacrosse was better so I had no choice. He played it in school.”

  “I see.”

  “I guess if he’d played with dolls or been a cheerleader, I’d have had to go out for that.”

  “Bummer.” Harley thought for a second, then continued. “I guess if my mom hadn’t intervened, I’d be fixing motorcycles instead of playing the violin.”

  “You’re lucky to have that kind of mom,” said Bob.

  Jennalee thought of Jane, who never pushed her into anything. It was pulling her out of stuff she had to do.

  “I hope he’s dead,” said Bob. “We’re okay when he’s not around.”

  Harley and Jennalee looked at each other and Jennalee saw he knew, as did she, that revealing Noel’s survival would be a mistake at this point. Bob’s was a genuine attitude, heartfelt, however awful. He deserved time with it.

  “That might hurt your mom,” offered Harley.

  Bob stared straight ahead. “She’d love it. She’s so different when he’s not around, singing, playing games, and talking. She loves to hear about our day and knows so much about stuff. She was top of her class at Vassar, but Dad squashes her like he does everything. Danny was brave to set the fire, but I should have been the one, being oldest.”

  There was no possible reply to this. The statement settled over the room and Jennalee turned to Clifford, who had fallen asleep. Bascomb power, she thought. The rabbit looked quite content clutched in the boy’s arm.

  “Are we going to sleep here?” Bob asked.

  “I guess so,” replied Jennalee. “We don’t have a guest room, but this couch is great to sleep on. Back in San Francisco when I had slumber parties, a bunch of us would sack out on it.”

  Just then Jane came in. Seein
g Clifford asleep with the beloved Bascomb, she came over to Jennalee and tousled her hair. “Good work, my dears. Robert, you and your brother will sleep here tonight. Your mother is on her way to the hospital to be with your dad.”

  “Okay,” said Bob.

  Jane disappeared down the hall and returned with blankets and pillows. She spread a blanket over Clifford and laid out the rest for Bob at the sectional’s other end. “You kids can go back out if you want,” Jane said. “I can handle things here. Thanks for helping.”

  Jennalee suddenly felt overwhelmed and kissed her mother’s cheek before taking Harley’s hand and pulling him away. Outside he kissed her cheek. “That rabbit is you favorite, isn’t he?” Harley said.

  “How’d you know?”

  “He looks loved.”

  She leaned over to Harley. “He knows everything.”

  They walked along the winding path, which was now the worse for wear, having been chewed by the fire engine. “Where are we going?” Jennalee asked.

  “The pool,” said Harley. “Remember that was the plan?”

  The pool was relatively calm, while back at Building Eight, firemen continued to mop up. Harley and Jennalee kicked off their shoes and socks, rolled up their jeans, and dangled their feet in the water. They still had their bottles of Coke, what with more talking than drinking.

  “Where is everyone?” Jennalee asked.

  “Letting down,” Harley said. “They gear up for it all, get way too wound up, so by Sunday night, they’re wiped out.”

  “I wonder where Vaughn is,” pondered Jennalee. “Anita or Lorene?”

  “No idea. He could be the one still riding high, so to speak.”

  Jennalee looked around, thinking she might see some last bit of Sutherland fucking in a corner, but nothing appeared.

  “Hey guys,” came a call behind them. They turned to find Troy and Carl approaching, both in Speedos, carrying towels. “Last of the party?” asked Troy.

  “Winding down,” replied Harley.

  Carl dropped his towel and dove into the water, where he swam a couple laps as Troy sat beside Harley. They all watched as Carl turn and roll, then dive under and breech like a whale. “Good swimmer,” Jennalee noted.

  “Born to it,” said Troy. “He grew up in Southern California, Palos Verdes to be exact, pool at home, swim club, high school water polo.”

  “And you?” Jennalee asked.

  “Land lubber. Oh, I can swim, but I’d rather not. Carl’s my only enticement.”

  “He seems to be doing just that,” Harley noted, and Jennalee looked to the swimmer who now floated on his back, erect penis free of the Speedo.

  “I’m wanted,” said Troy, who slipped into the water.

  “They’re so open,” Jennalee declared.

  “Just us, so why not?”

  She watched as Troy and Carl began to frolic like porpoises. Both Speedos were now off and bodies were entwined as they rolled about. She watched closely, trying to see if they were fucking, but couldn’t tell.

  She turned to check on Harley because if this was interesting to her, it had to be working on him. “Do they get you hot?” she asked.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “I can take care of that, you know. I mean, shut your eyes and a mouth is a mouth. I’m great at blowjobs.” She glanced down at the bulge in his jeans. “It’s not betraying anything,” she continued. “I mean, there aren’t any gay rules, are there?”

  “No rules. A person is free to do as he wishes.” He turned to face her. “But here’s how it is, Lee. Just because I get hard doesn’t mean I have to get off, okay? My dick doesn’t run me.”

  “I know,” Jennalee said when she didn’t. Why not get off all you could? Other boys always wanted to.

  Harley apparently could tell she was unconvinced so he kept on. “You have to stop trying to have sex with me.” He took her hand. “It’s not going to happen because I don’t want you that way. Like I said before, not sexually in any form.”

  Her pout reflex now kicked in. She lowered her head, set her jaw, and went silent.

  “I like the tantrum better,” said Harley.

  She gave it a good minute, trying to maintain the pout, but Harley began to chuckle, which made the effort seem silly. “I just want you,” she said in her defense.

  “You don’t get everything you want in life.”

  “You’re parenting again.”

  “You drive me to it.”

  Troy and Carl had quieted. Whatever they did in their frolicking had been done and they now huddled near the diving board. Jennalee envied them their intimacy. “See that,” she said. “That’s the best part. After, being so close.”

  “Do you get that from the boys you’re with?”

  “Well, no, but I would with you because you’re caring and they’re just boys.”

  “Troy and Carl are in their thirties. They know each other like a married couple. That’s what comes with maturity. I’m on that road, but far behind them and you, you’re circling the parking lot. On a kiddie trike.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh and she gave him a playful punch on the arm. “I want to be loved.”

  “You are. Your folks, me, we love you. That should count for something.”

  “I guess.”

  Chapter 20

  While Sutherlands retreated to their rooms, the Laidlaws, who appeared to be well-practiced campers, claimed a spot on the lawn between Buildings Six and Seven. Shrubs Wesley kept trimmed into smooth rounds served as headboards for Earl and Lizann’s sleeping bags. Bedding for Harley and Garth was laid out some distance opposite, with Harley’s violin between them. An ice chest sat between the two sleeping areas, on it water bottles and a bag of Fritos.

  Earl and Lizann had brought their motorcycles and little trailer to the edge of the grass, setting up a sort of household. It was Alden Sutherland who first offered comment on the camp, happening by as he took a late night stroll.

  “Burned you out,” he said, stating the obvious. “Can’t they put you somewhere?”

  “Not unless you have space for us in your room,” replied Lizann. “Everything is full, Alden. You know that.”

  “Quite a sight,” he said.

  Lizann looked him down then up then down again, taking in the light blue shirt straining to cover his thick torso, his white knee-length shorts, his chins, his wide mouth, and the forehead that disappeared into his smooth scalp.

  “Spare yourself, Alden,” Lizann said to get him moving. “Good night.”

  Jennalee and Harley arrived as Alden left. “Home,” said Harley.

  “Such as it is,” replied his mother.

  “I’ve invited Lee to camp with us,” Harley said.

  Lizann smiled. “More the merrier.”

  “I’ll get my sleeping bag,” Jennalee said. “Be right back.”

  She ran all the way to the main building, flying across the deserted lobby. The desk was manned by no more than a sign advising to ring bell for service.

  In the Preece living room, she found the scene much as she’d left it. Clifford was asleep with Bascomb Bunny while Bob sat talking to Jane.

  “The Laidlaws are camping on the lawn and Harley invited me to join them,” she announced. “Can I?”

  “I suppose,” said Jane.

  “How are you doing?” Jennalee asked Bob.

  “Okay, I guess. Have you heard anything about Danny?”

  “No. I’m sorry, not a thing.”

  “I’m sure your mother will call with any developments,” offered Jane.

  “Okay then,” said Jennalee. “I’ll get the sleeping bag.”

  In her room, she dug the thing from her chaotic closet and tossed it on the bed. She was at her mirror brushing her hair when her mother came in.

  “Bob seems more relaxed now,” Jennalee noted.

  “We’ve been talking. He’s such a nice boy. It’s a shame Noel makes it so difficult for his family.”

  “Have you told him his dad is
alive?”

  “Not yet. He seems relieved to be free of his father, which is awful, yet not.”

  “He needs to know,” said Jennalee. “I think he’s pretty strong and he deserves the truth. Let him step up. He’d want that.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Is Phyllis still at the hospital?”

  “Yes. Marian called. Noel has been stabilized, but is on a breathing machine.”

  “It’s so sad,” said Jennalee. “I can’t believe a father could be so bad, his son wants him dead.”

  Jane just shook her head.

  “Okay, I’m outta here.” Jennalee flew past her mother and out the door.

  * * * *

  At the Laidlaw camp, she unrolled her pink sleeping bag next to Harley’s olive green one. “Whoa,” he said. “Chick bag.”

  “Blame my parents. It was a Christmas present when I was twelve.”

  “Long as it keeps you warm.”

  When Jennalee had the sleeping bag spread beside his, he asked if she was sleepy yet.

  “Not really.”

  “Let’s go look at the fire damage,” he suggested.

  Jennalee hopped up and followed him toward Building Eight. Earl and Lizann appeared to already be asleep.

  The fire engine remained, hoses strewn like tentacles. Firemen still sprayed water here and there, the place now a soggy mess.

  “They’re drowning it,” noted Jennalee.

  “Hot spots. The fire can hide and then spark when everyone thinks it’s out. It can actually start back up if they’re not careful.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “No idea.”

  “I can’t believe there’s any spark in that mess.”

  They couldn’t get close so they settled on lawn chairs Sutherlands had dragged over during the blaze. “Want a Coke?” Harley asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Wait here.”

  He ran around Building Seven to where a Coke machine stood and was back in a minute with two cans. “Some weekend,” Jennalee said as they sipped and watched the firemen.

  Harley snorted a laugh. “Right up there with the best of them. Or actually the worst of them, although this is the first time anybody set the place on fire. Usually it’s just people going at each other.”