An Exaltation of Larks

by Suanne Laqueur

  Deane drew a long breath in through her nose. “I like Ari,” she said softly. “I think I like him a whole lot.”

  “He’s different.”

  “Way different.” She didn’t say anything more, and Val chose to let it be. She tapped the tube pan on the countertop to get the air bubbles out, then slid it into the oven and set the timer.

  “This’ll be an hour.” She put arms around Deane and put on her affected Slavic accent. “I for to go to take leetle nap now.”

  “You for to have nice nap. I for to take cake out of oven.” Lingering inside Val’s hug another moment, Deane exhaled a sigh. “Thanks, Mumsy.”

  Val touched a fingertip into her daughter’s dimple. “Anytime, girl of mine.”

  Little woman-girl.

  Val sighed into the dark of her bedroom. Be safe, little woman-girl, she thought. Be safe. Be smart. Be happy. And if you can’t, come home. Just come home to us…

  Alex clicked off his lamp and scooted up close to Val’s back.

  “May I help you?” she said, smiling as his erection pressed cheerfully up against her butt.

  “I found him,” he said.

  It sucked they had to make out in the car. But on cold fall nights, Ari and Deane didn’t have much choice. If they hung out at Ari’s apartment, Jav was always there. He politely took his laptop into his room to write, and closed the door. But he was there. If he went into the city, he finked to Val and Alex, who then insisted the two teens hang at their house.

  The rule at the Lark-Pendas was when Alex and Val went to bed, Ari went home.

  “Are you serious?” Deane said. “Why?”

  “Because we rule the roost,” Alex said.

  “We’re just watching TV.”

  “Bullshit you are,” Alex said, laughing. “It’s non-negotiable, cosita. I love Ari to bits. You picked a winner and he can stay as long as one adult is awake and upright in the house.”

  “Mom, come on.”

  Val shook her head. “Sorry, hon. United front on this one.”

  “So you’d have no problem with me fooling around with him in a car?”

  “As long as it’s parked,” Val said.

  “Ha ha. You’re hilarious, mother.”

  “Cars are where you’re supposed to fool around,” Alex said. “I had to clock my time in cars, your mother had to clock her time in cars.”

  “Soft, horizontal surfaces are an adult privilege,” Val said. “So is privacy.”

  “You know,” Alex said to Val, “we haven’t done it in the car in a long time. You want to go for a ride?”

  “I think I’ll go throw up,” Deane said.

  Alex pulled her ponytail. “As parents, we’re obligated to keep our teenager slightly frustrated at all times,” he said. “Don’t test me on this one, Deane. I find him here in the middle of the night and it’s going to be unpleasant.”

  Sometimes Ari could beg Jav’s SUV, and then at least they could lower all the back seats and stretch out. But more often than not, they were squashed in Ari’s Honda.

  Which wasn’t entirely bad.

  “It’s so good,” Ari whispered.

  Deane straddled him in the pushed-back driver’s seat, tilting his head back and pulling his mouth up into her kiss. Pulling the breath out of him. Making him make that adorable, hot noise in his chest. He kissed like a fucking dream. Like Deane filled out an application, requested, “Send me a boy who kisses like this,” and the universe followed instructions to the letter.

  Ari’s kiss went from soft to hard, from teasing to hungry, from shy to aggressive. The perfect amount of give and take. The perfect amount of tongue at the perfect time. And that sound he made in his chest. It made her crazy.

  “God, you drive me crazy,” Ari said, breathing hard. His lips were swollen and she’d pulled his hair into a tousled, sexy mess.

  She hummed, grinding her hips back and down on his erection. His hands curved over her butt, pulling her in tighter, pushing her where he wanted. It felt so fucking good. Happiness and desire tugged her in seven different directions until she felt spread out over the night, like sticky sweet jam on warm toast. She wanted to bite and crunch, chew and savor all of it.

  “I want you so bad,” he whispered, his fingertips drawing down from her collarbones. He unclasped her bra and gently pushed it open. Then his hands curved around her breasts, his palms warm and dry. He gathered one into his mouth, his thumb moving in slow circles on the other. Deane kept grinding down on him, hitting her sweet spot.

  “This might make me come,” she said.

  “I’ve never made a girl come,” he said. His eyes shone in the dim light as he gazed up at her. “I’ve never seen a girl come.”

  “Want to now?”

  “God, are you kidding? Show me…”

  So the cold crisp nights of autumn melted away within the fogged-up windows. They took it far, but took it slow.

  “I’d like to wait,” Deane said. “Having actual sex, I mean.”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “It’s only… After everything with Casey, I’m more inclined to go slow this time. Wipe the slate clean and start over.”

  He laughed. “Dude, I had awkward sex twice. My slate is shrink-wrapped.” He kissed her, threading his fingers through her hair. “And it’s all yours.”

  “…So all summer long, Val was playing her goddamn Abba album.”

  “It was Linda Ronstadt,” Val said. “If you’re going to tell the legend get it right.”

  “Sorry,” Roger said. “Linda Ronstadt. And Alex was going out of his gourd.”

  Val belted out the opening lyrics of “When Will I Be Loved?”

  “Oh my God, all freaking summer long,” Alex said, going around the table to pour wine. “That one and ‘You’re No Good.’ Until I wanted to kill myself.”

  “What happened?” Ari asked.

  “He busts into Val’s room,” Rog said. “Takes the record off the turntable, then makes a run for it.”

  “Locked himself in the bathroom,” Trelawney said. “Held it for ransom.”

  “Except Val here,” Rog said, “doesn’t negotiate with terrorists. She backs up down the hall and charges.”

  “No way,” Jav said.

  “BOOM—she kicks the door down.”

  “Holy shit,” Ari said.

  “This is my favorite story,” Deane said.

  “I honestly didn’t think it was going to work,” Val said, going a little pink in the face.

  “Oh, it worked,” Alex said.

  “The door went right off the hinges and toppled half into the bathtub. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “You couldn’t believe it?”

  Val laughed. “You screamed like a little girl.”

  “I did. I actually screamed.”

  “And then what?” Jav said. “Did you beat the shit out of him?”

  “No,” Val said, as Alex said, “Yes.”

  “Oh stop, I didn’t beat you,” she said. “Just…touched you rather vigorously.”

  “I came out of that one bruised and broke,” Alex said. “We got in so much trouble.”

  Val closed her eyes as her shoulders gave a little twitch. “That was a long month.”

  “It was fantastic,” Trelawney said. “Rog and I had complete control of the TV. We came and went at leisure, leaving the two sulking waifs behind. I don’t think they spoke to each other until Halloween.”

  “Guys, don’t stand on ceremony,” Val said, shaking out her napkin. “Start serving yourselves. Eat. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Val, did you save me the tail?” Trelawney asked, passing a platter.

  “Don’t I always?”

  “Look at the nose on this guy,” Alex said, stopping by Roger’s chair to top off his wine glass.

  Roger tipped his profile up to the ceiling, showing off both sides of his prominent nose.

  “I swear it’s getting bigger in your old age,” Alex said.

  “It’s not the s
ize of the honker, it’s what’s in it that counts.” Roger grinned at Ari then. “You’re no slouch in the schnozz department, either, kid. Let me see.”

  Ari turned his head good-naturedly.

  “You got the chin to pull it off,” Rog said. “When you got a big nose and a weak chin, you’re fucked.”

  “Does everyone have a drink?” Val said, picking up her glass. “Alex, give us a toast.”

  Alex put a hand on Jav’s shoulder. “Help me out, man.”

  “Arriba,” they said, and glasses were held high.

  “Abajo.” Glasses lowered.

  “Al centro.” Glasses into the middle of the table to make a bouquet.

  “Aldentro.” Everyone drank.

  Roger put his glass up again. “And in the words of Roland Lark: here’s to those who wish us well, all the rest can go to hell.”

  “To hell.” They clinked and drank once more, then attacked the feast.

  Jav hadn’t known anything like it since his childhood. A hundred years since he’d sat at a pulled-out, multi-leaved table with loved ones. Hardly able to eat for laughing as dishes, jokes and cracks passed up and down and across. The tableaux of four golden-blond larks and three dark tigers filled his eyes and squeezed his heart. Roger and Trelawney were laughing. Ari had his hand casually on the back of Deane’s chair. Val rested her chin on a fist, beautiful and happy as she gazed at her empire.

  “It’s a life,” Alex said under the hum of chuckles and chatter.

  Jav looked at him. “And not everyone gets one.”

  Alex winked and looked away but Jav’s gaze got stuck, lingering on strange details. Like how Alex’s light blue sweater leached the grey out of his eyes, leaving them mint green. One sleeve was pushed up, showing the tattoo of the Unisphere. A little above it, a scar cut a long, pink line across his elbow. Jav wanted to touch it. Wanted its story.

  Stop it, he told himself. You’re not doing this again.

  Now ideas of warm skin were in his head, tugging at his shirt and feeling dangerously familiar.

  We should talk about this later, they said.

  No, we shouldn’t, Jav thought.

  Val was circling the table, topping up wine glasses. Her hand caressed the back of Jav’s head. “Happy?” she said as she leaned to pour for him.

  “I’ve never felt so at home,” he said, his nose full of her perfume.

  She kissed his temple. “That’s huge coming from you.”

  On his other side, Alex laughed, dodging a backhanded swat from Roger by leaning into Jav’s space. Jav took another bite of turkey and stuffing. It took an hour to chew and swallow it, as his mouth suddenly wanted to be full of something else.

  What in the living fuck was the world trying to do to him?

  Good Christ, if you’re going to do this, do it with Roger. At least your chances would go from impossible to infinitesimal.

  He did like Roger. He was good-looking, but in a shaggy, relaxed way. Not a hunk but a lunk. A Golden Retriever of a man, he occupied space like it was a hammock. He could probably lounge on a cactus and convince others it was more comfortable than a couch.

  As Rog raised arms to the ceiling in a luxurious stretch, Jav noticed he had his own tattoo: a compass rose along his left forearm, the central axis stretched out long, a single letter N at its point beneath the heel of Roger’s hand.

  Jav’s eyes narrowed, finding a story. His tastes and emotions were simple, he thought. The Compass never worried. He patted problems on the head and told them to run along. If he was cold, he put on a sweater. If he broke something, he swept it up. If fear struck, it was a sign he was doing something wrong and he changed direction.

  “Uh-oh, Jav’s in the zone,” Ari said.

  Jav blinked. Everyone was looking at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t control when the muse shows up. Anyone got a pencil?”

  “Use gravy,” Alex said.

  The men took an after-dinner walk with the dogs, climbing Bemelman Street up to Lark House.

  “Dude, Ari’s a great kid,” Roger kept saying to Jav.

  “Thanks,” Jav said each time, feeling odd. It was praise for a parent, not for him. Ari’s greatness was none of his doing.

  “I mean it,” Rog said. “He’s going places.”

  Ari had a thousand questions about the tree fort, the show and the countries Roger had been to. Roger gave a guided tour as he answered them all.

  “Qué onda?” Alex said, coming to join Jav on the highest platform of the fort. They leaned on the railing and gazed out at the lights along the Hudson.

  “Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a while,” Jav said. “Possibly ever.”

  “Good,” Alex said, putting an arm around him. “You belong with us.”

  “Rog is hilarious.”

  “Isn’t he? I don’t know anyone with a bigger heart.”

  “Must be tough when he leaves.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said, and slapped Jav between the shoulder blades. “I’ll have to buddy up with you instead.”

  “Oh, I’m the consolation prize. Great.”

  “You’re a lot more interesting than Rog. Don’t tell him I said so.”

  “My silence is expensive.”

  “What’s the going rate these days?”

  “Forget it. I’ll write you off as a charitable donation.”

  “Thanks, fucky.” Alex unzipped his jacket a little and reached inside. “I’ve been meaning to give these to you. Or rather, let you know I have them.”

  He handed over a stack of photos. Jav took them and his eyes bulged. They were snapshots of him in his youth. Him and Naroba. Him and Nesto. The three of them as kids in Queens.

  “Where in the fuck did you—” Then he remembered. He’d found them when they were cleaning out Naroba’s house. “I thought I threw these away.”

  Alex shrugged. “I’m a sucker for lost families. I don’t know, I felt bad for you. I felt bad for all of it, so I took them home. The one of just you and Naroba together is nice. Maybe Ari will want it.”

  Holding the pictures tight, Jav stared at him, touched to his bones. “Thanks,” he said softly.

  “Hey, Schnozz,” Roger called from below. “Come down here, I want to show you something…”

  December 2006

  Augusto Pinochet, Dictator Who Ruled by Terror in Chile, Dies at 91…

  Coffee cup frozen in mid-sip, Jav blinked at the New York Times headline. “Shit,” he said slowly.

  He clicked on the article, read it. Then texted Alex.

  Dude, I just read in the newspaper Pinochet’s dead.

  No reply. After ten minutes, Jav texted again:

  U OK? I’m around if u want 2 talk.

  Nothing.

  The day had a weirdly ominous feel to it, made worse by Jav typing “Pinochet atrocities” into Google and falling into a horror show of documented human rights violations. The Caravan of Death. The detentions and torture centers. “La Parrilla”—the grill of metal bedsprings where prisoners would be strapped and electrocuted. Prisoners with their legs run over by cars, their ears beaten into deafness. A detention center known as Discothèque devoted to sexual abuse. Women raped to death. Forced to commit incest. Even testimonials from women raped by trained dogs. And rats.

  Pinochet returned to Chile under house arrest in 2000. Now he was dead, before he could be convicted of any crimes.

  Jav shut the computer off and stared at the blank screen. He saw Alex kneeling down on Calle Isabella, a hand to the yellow-gold facade of his old home as Val asked, “Here?”

  I have a feeling he’ll tell you someday.

  In the afternoon, Jav took a walk up to Tulip Street and rang the doorbell.

  “You know you’ve earned walk-in privileges by now,” Val said, kissing him. “You don’t have to ring.”

  “I know, but…” He wiped his feet and went inside. “In case you and Alex are fucking on the kitchen floor, I like to give warning.”

  Her smile was sad as she shut th
e door and he knew he didn’t have to explain why he was here.

  “How is he?”

  “Not good,” she said, crossing her arms. “Fine when he first heard, but over the course of the day it’s sinking in. He’s out in the back yard, splitting wood.”

  “I’ll go say hi.”

  “I need to go down to the shop and finish some things.”

  “All right,” Jav said, feeling like she was telling him something else. “Are you okay?”

  “Be careful,” she said. “He’s moody as fuck and he has an axe in his hand.”

  “I will.”

  She caught his sleeve as he made to pass. “Has he told you anything yet?”

  “About Chile? No, not really.”

  She nodded, looking past him. She wore a black turtleneck and in the watery sunlight coming through the front doors’ glass panes, she was beautiful, yet fragile.

  “Hey,” Jav said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “He likes you so much,” she said. “I mean, he relies on you.”

  “I know.”

  “He had a terrible experience, and a lot of the time he feels the way it impacted his life isn’t justified. That it wasn’t as bad as it really was. He has a sadness in him, Jav. A survivor’s guilt that just doesn’t ever…”

  The sunlight through the glass intensified and Jav remembered this was a woman who kicked in the bathroom door to get back what was hers. He imagined Alex came to America with a half-dozen barricaded doors in his heart, and Val either bashed them down, took them off the hinges or picked the locks open. She’d let nothing come between her and her man.

  “It can’t be easy,” Jav said.

  “He’s—”

  Jav put a fingertip on her lips and didn’t let her finish. “I meant it can’t be easy for you,” he said.

  She shook her head, lips pressed in a tight, wobbling line. He pulled her close and held her, remembering now the street outside the embassy in Santiago, where he and Val held Alex between them. The clear, pure love for his friends coursing through Jav’s veins. The joy of the moment. And the solemn responsibility that came with it.

  I want this job, he thought. I will be excellent at it.

  His coming over today could be a symbolic passing of a baton. Val could leave the house, leave Alex moody as fuck with an axe in his hand, and go down to the shop because Jav was here. He could be relied upon.