Seagull: A Southern Novel

by Paul, Lawton

  I was just about to put the picture down but there was something familiar about the man sitting to the right of the boxing ring. It was his shape, the way he sat, sort of like he was trying to lay down in the chair. His posture was bad. AJ was always getting onto the old man about how he slouched at the kitchen table. His face resting in one of his big palms, the other holding a coffee cup. The light was on Palmeri and the people in back were so dim that it was hard to tell, but the man on the far right was a young Uncle Art. Same thick hair and easy, soft smile.

  Just then I heard the tea kettle whistle. AJ would be sitting in her chair in a few minutes, so I cleaned up everything as fast as I could. I put the boxing photo in the Perry's Chemical Engineer's Handbook so I could come back to it later. I turned off the light, backed out of the closet and closed the door without a sound.

  "Find anything, Snoopy?" It was Aunt Jeannie. She was leaning back in her favorite wicker rocking chair in the Florida room with a cup of hot tea. There were big windows so you could see right out to the river: the dark blue ripples that went on forever and the green tree line on the other side. Oak trees stood between the house and the bulkhead, gray moss hanging down. It was a beautiful day and the light streamed in making distorted window shapes on the floor. I could feel the picture of Momma in my pocket. It was a thick photo and I wondered if AJ could see the outline of it through my thin shorts.

  I was the snoop. It was my duty to find things. So I played it cool. "Do you know there's a big deer head in there?"

  "Yeah, Art used to have it hanging over there where the swordfish certificate is now," she pointed to an official looking certificate with a picture of a swordfish at the top right on the wall between her and Art's big reclining chairs that faced the TV. This is to certify that Jeannie Wolfe caught a trophy swordfish. Weight: 322 lbs. Length: 7'4" at 7:30 am in Key West on March 22, 1967. There was a picture of a young AJ, just like in the box.

  "We took it down because it scared two little kids." She grinned.

  I dug my toe into the carpet and watched a sailboat with a rainbow colored sail move slowly down the river. I thought about asking her why Uncle Art was in the boxing picture, but there was something more important on my mind. I wanted to ask her about what Johnny said the other day. I wanted to ease into it, but in the end just blurted it out: "Johnny McCready said that I didn't know--"

  "Didn't know what?" said Aunt Jeannie. She put her tea on the window sill and leaned forward in the chair. Her feet on the floor, eyes narrowed. "What?" she said again.

  You never said a curse word in the house or anywhere within earshot of AJ, so I just spelled it out. "S-H-I-T ...about my momma. Then he said the 'old Kraut' was feeding me crap about Momma."

  "How would Johnny McCready, who was four or five years old at the time your mother died, know anything about her? Johnny doesn't know shit," she said, and leaned back in the rocker, reaching for the teacup. She took a sip and broke into a smile.

  Suddenly I couldn't speak. I'd never heard a curse word escape her lips before. I wanted to run outside and tell Tyler.

  "Jesse, that boy's got no love in his life, poor child," she said. "So he's gonna just run around and try to make everyone else miserable. I'm gonna pray for him." She leaned forward again and put the cup on the floor, which was the second Cardinal Rule she'd broken in the last 60 seconds. "That poor boy's got a momma, but she's no good. She's more worried about clothes, mint julep tea with bourbon, and the dog track than raising that boy. You're lucky, Jesse. You've got me, and Uncle Art, and Tyler. And we all love you."

  "I know," I said. The sailboat was about to disappear behind the wall between two windows.

  She motioned me to come closer. She held my hands in hers. "Baby, you can call me momma," she said. Parents' Day again. Her eyes were wet and a little red and I looked out the window and the sailboat was gone. I wanted to run to Matty's house. I had the same feeling when the youth minister at church had gathered all of the kids together and after a long speech about how great God was, asked us to come forward if we wanted to accept God as our savior. I was standing on the wrong side of a deep canyon then, and I was still there now. I couldn't pull the trigger on that one just yet. It was too big and I was really thinking I'd just sprint on out of there and run to Matty's house and I didn't care if it was dinnertime and Matty's open door policy ended at 6pm.

  "What are y'all talking about?" It was Tyler, standing in the living room. His good arm was covered in black, gear grease right up to the sleeve of his t-shirt. His wounded arm was holding a red plastic iced tea cup. His bandage was wrapped in plastic with duct tape on either end. He looked at me. "Jesse, just give it up. Okay? I can't even remember our real mother. AJ and the old man are our mom and dad. Stop being ungrateful. Stop this crap right now. And don't even think about getting all quiet and running off to Matty's house." Everything was so black and white for Tyler. This is how it was and he was right, but I couldn't make that jump.

  The instinct to bolt for the door was strong. I had to go see Matty. I hated that Tyler knew that. I turned to AJ, who was staring into her cup of tea. "I appreciate everything," I said.

  "I know," she said. I turned and walked slowly past Tyler to the kitchen. He was shaking his head side to side. I pushed the screen door open and started running. I was half-way down the road before I heard the spring finally slam the door back and make the clank sound.

  I knew something was different when I got to Matty's house. I could see the little round stepping stones that led from the front door to the mailbox. I hadn't seen them in so long I'd forgotten about them. The driveway looked bigger because the tall grass that used to send out little feelers was gone. Even the little wild shrubs that had popped up were gone. The grass had been cut and the house looked disgustingly normal.

  When I did my usual double knock, open the door and "Yo, Matty!" all at once, I nearly collapsed in the foyer. The windows were open and there was light everywhere and the boxes were gone and in the mystery corner, my mystery corner, the as-yet-undiscovered secrets of the ages had been replaced by a little house plant that still had a price sticker on the side. It was like I'd accidentally stepped into the wrong house and I didn't know if I should just run again, or if I should start apologizing.

  Usually I ran right past the empty dining room on the right as I navigated my way to Matty's room. But I turned and there was Matty and his whole family sitting there at the table like a normal family. Matty's little brother's hair was combed and wet like he was going to have his picture taken. Then Matty's mother walked in with a bowl of potato salad. A big wooden spoon sticking out. She was a little thinner than I remember, but it was her.

  "Oh, hi, Jesse," she said.

  All the words had been deleted from my brain. I waved.

  "Mom, may I be excused," said Matty. May I be excused? What bizarro parallel universe was this?

  Matty grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards his room. In the hallway I realized there were baseboards where the walls met the floor, and they were white. The whiteness kept going all the way into Matty's room where the only bit of familiar territory was Matty's orange and blue bed covers. I sat down right there. Matty was grinning.

  "I had a feeling she was coming back," he said. "I didn't say anything because I thought I might jinx it. I knew I was right when Dad started trying to get the lawn mower running. Ended up calling a lawn service. Took about eight guys a whole day to get things looking good again." He was staring out the window with a Christmas-morning grin on his face. The sun had gone down and a soft, orange light streamed in through the window. There were little circular streak marks in the glass where someone had been cleaning. Usually Matty's brain was activated and he didn't miss anything. But right then, I looked at him and wondered just who the hell this kid was. I should be happy for him, but I just kept thinking about leaving. Matty's dusty house was my refuge. Now even that was gone.

  Matty looked at me and his eyes narrowed a bit. He came back to himself.<
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  "What's your problem?" he asked. It was the right question. I didn't respond. I needed further confirmation that the real Matty had returned. "Geesh, Seagull. Are you blanking out again? You are here late, and you know Dad kept the 6pm rule even after Mom left. So what's up?" He was standing there hands on his hips like Aunt Jeannie just after she'd caught us stealing the good shrimp out of the freezer to use as fish bait.

  I handed him the picture. "It's my parents," I said. He took it to his desk and turned on a shiny, red lamp I'd never seen before. He sat there for awhile, the picture placed carefully on the desk. He grabbed a magnifying glass from the desk drawer and continued his inspection. I laid back on the bed and marveled at how even the books on his shelf, minus their thin layer of dust, reflected the orange light. And I could see into the fish tank. It wasn't all green in there anymore. The treasure chest had been replaced by a deep sea diver with bubbles shooting out of his head.

  "Something's off about the picture," Matty said.

  "What?" I said.

  "I don't know. I'll have to sleep on it."

  "Sleep on it?"

  "Yeah. The riddle is in my head. My brain will work on it while I sleep and I'll have an answer when I wake up." He said all of this with a straight face. I started laughing. But he was still serious. "I do this all the time when I get stuck on one of Mr. Zuler's calculus worksheets."

  "I agree. Something ain't right, but I don't know what. She is smiling, but she's worried. I think."

  "That's obvious," Matty said. "She's forcing a smile. But there's something else. Who is that dude with her? Your father?"

  "Yep."

  "She sure is pretty," Matty said in a soft, distant voice. There was a moment of silence then and I couldn't quite think of a response. Yeah, my mom was a babe? Then Matty said, "So I'm thinking she isn't your mom because a beautiful woman like this would not have a wanker, dork son like you." I knew he was joking, but didn't let on.

  Matty asked to hold on to the picture for a few days. He promised to keep it out of his little brother Teddy's sweaty little palms or his mom's equally destructive bleach rags. He put it inside one of his Hardy Boys mystery books he had lined up on his top shelf.

  "Tomorrow's Marine World. You ready?" Matty said. I'd forgotten about that. I was a boxer who'd taken too many punches. I itched around my nose stitches and took a deep breath.

  "Yeah, I'm going."

  Marine World

  There was a large statue of two dolphins jumping for a beach ball at the main entrance to Marine World--gray and blue and perfectly lifelike and proportioned, about three times the size of normal dolphins, rising straight up out of a large, round, concrete pedestal. A large, red, white and blue beach ball was perched atop the highest dolphin's nose. I saw it, small and toy-like and still far off, when we turned off the main road. But it grew and became lifelike as the bus got closer. The bus hadn't even stopped yet and I decided I hated this place: the aqua blue color of the entrance, the cheesy little wave graphic on the flags, the pamphlet I was holding (but didn't care to look at because it had a big shark at the bottom right) and the giant dolphins rising out of the asphalt. I considered trying to stare down the giant dolphins--give them a good, long look as we passed, a little test before the main event, but thought better of it. Meanwhile, my guide dog, Matty, was chatting up Jenny Swinson, Mr. Zuler's favorite calc student and generally considered most likely to be an astronaut or congresswoman. I gave him an elbow to the ribs. He grumbled a bit then looked around. We were there. "You okay?" he said.

  "Maybe." It was the truth. False bravado wouldn't do now. The fly was headed into the sticky web.

  I thought if I could just eliminate any surprises I'd be okay. I didn't want to turn a corner and be in the shark tank exhibit, or be face to face with a life-size whale model. Matty and I made it through the first few exhibits without a hitch. I could handle small fish tanks just fine and that's pretty much what we got for the first thirty minutes or so. I actually enjoyed checking out the reef dwellers: red sea anemone reaching out with soft fingers, the orange and white clown fish, and the colorful coral. Each exhibit led to the next so Matty would scout ahead and I'd linger behind. At one point I was waiting for the all clear from Matty, pretending to be engrossed in the particulars of an algae called zooxanthellae, when Standish walked up.

  "I didn't know you were so into marine biology. The zooxanthellae give the coral its color," he said. We moved to the next tank and stood there together watching tiny purple jellyfish swim around in random directions.

  "Jelly in the river are kind of plain in comparison," I said, trying to sound enthused yet slightly bored. There were clear, oval shaped jellyfish in the river that got caught in the crab traps. Some times during the year the river would be full of them and after pulling the whole line our arms would be stinging and red.

  Then Matty came barreling around the corner, "Dude! Dude! Monster in the next room!" And nearly ran into Standish.

  "Oh, what is it?" said Standish, thinking Matty was really excited to see the next exhibit.

  Matty recovered quickly, "It's an awesome, full scale model of a whale shark right there on the floor!" So this is the first test, I thought. And I still hadn't seen Hailey yet.

  "Hey Jesse," Matty said. "How are your eyes?"

  "What?"

  "Your eyes are a little dilated from your appointment this morning so maybe you should wear your sun glasses."

  I'd forgotten about that. It was Matty's idea that I'd wear sunglasses so I could just close my eyes if I wanted and no one would know. He'd also created a fantastic note from Dr. Jeffries, the local eye doctor. I reached for the note and asked Standish if I could wear sunglasses. "Sure, no worries. Come on, let's check out the monster!" he said. When I held out my doctor's note he just waved his hand and headed to the next room.

  I couldn't hold on to Matty's shoulder or his shirt tail like I used to do when Tyler would lead me past the scary part of the walkway out to the boathouse. So Matty just walked slowly and kept talking. I followed his voice, and stepped into the next room all the while thinking I'm going to bump into somebody or something. I could tell the room was large even with my eyes closed because all the voices echoed like we were in a gymnasium. I put my hand to my forehead and rubbed it like I had a headache and looked straight down at the floor: there was blue light and water sounds playing. All of this was designed to make you feel like you were standing at the bottom of the ocean next to a really big fish. I closed my eyes again. Then about halfway in I decided all of this was stupid anyway and it was just a model and why not take a quick look.

  I raised my head and took a peek right over the top of my shades. It was all blue, just like the floor. Some of the blue light was moving like waves or currents. The room was starting to clear out as everyone headed to the next exhibit. In the center I could see the big tail, curved and graceful, kind of brown with spots. The body was wide and the whole thing was bigger than the old man's crab boat. There was a recording playing: ...Rhincodon typus...slow moving filter feeding shark...lives in the open sea... Small beams of blue light rolled over it and instantly my legs got weak and I felt like I was under water. The whole thing was moving and my feet suddenly started to sink into imaginary silt. The walls were gone and it would turn at any moment. It eats plankton, I thought. It can't eat me. But logic didn't matter at the bottom of the ocean. ...primarily pelagic seasonal feeding... No one could save you when the black weight was coming down from behind and you were just a piece of bait. I put my hands to the side of my head and started to bend down towards the floor.

  And then a hand was pulling me to the surface. I could hear Matty's voice but the words were fuzzy like a radio right before you found the station. A second later and I could hear him just fine and the the words started to make sense. "…stand! And close your eyes. What are you doing? Standish is waiting," Matty said in a whisper-yell that only I could hear.

  "I looked," I said.

  "Geesh. D
on't be stupid. You've got it bad, dude. Don't play with it. I spotted Hailey a second ago heading into the penguin room. Maybe this was a bad idea."

  We finally made it to Standish and the three of us stood there right in front of the big fish. I imagined, eyes closed, I was in the Florida room in the old house with the sun coming up right behind the bridge. The recording had started over from the beginning.

  Standish lectured: "The whale shark is large, but gentle. It's more like a whale than what most people think of when they think shark--you know, teeth and brawn, not too smart. But this creature is something entirely different." There were a bunch of kids there and their voices calmed me down. Nothing bad could happen when two girls were within earshot talking about alternating fingernail colors. Standish kept going. "...mainly tropical and warm, temperate seas..." My mind drifted. I wondered if Hailey was still in the penguin room and what I was going to say to her. Hi, I'm Jesse. I just looked at a big fish and nearly fainted. Would you like to hang out?

  There were no monsters in the next room, but neither was Hailey. So we worked our way through each exhibit. We ditched Standish in the penguin room when he and Darcy Pemberton got into a debate about the actual size of an emperor penguin. The model they had was nearly as tall as Matty. I kept getting variations of "Nice shades, Seagull boy," from the river rat contingency but most were too caught up in the whole rude, blue fishy experience to notice.