Oscar got up from the leather office chair and started for Beth’s room. He stopped at the door to the study, saying, “One more thing, you told me before that the Bardo Glass Factory on Riverview Drive was closed down.”
“That’s correct,” said Lorne. “It’s been more than five years now. What a pity to close the old place down. Been in the family for generations. The economy, I’m afraid.”
“Then why would there be people working there last night?”
Lorne and Eva shared a concerned look with one another. “Doctor Loste, I mean,” Oscar,” Eva said, “are you quite sure you’re feeling all right?”
“Of course. Never better.”
She went on, saying, “Because I don’t understand where this is going and your tone seems a bit strange. It’s almost as though you’re accusing us of something but I have no idea what.”
“All we want is what’s best for our daughter,” said Lorne. “And to answer your question about the family glass factory, there may be some asbestos remediation or other kind of cleanup going on. I’m afraid we don’t manage such small details of our businesses but I could look into it for you.”
“Please do look into it,” said Oscar before he went upstairs.
Beth was staring out her window when Oscar came through the door. “What’re you looking at?” He asked as he sat down on the carpet next to her.
“I see the sky changing,” she said, turning to him. “Do you see it too, Oscar?” She asked, sounding afraid.
“Not right now, Beth. I don’t see anything.”
Beth’s eyes started to glisten in the city light. Her face trembling with held back tears, she asked him, “What’s wrong with me?”
Oscar struggled to come up with something to tell her. Eventually he said, “Beth, I don’t think anything is wrong with you. I can’t explain what’s happening but I think you’re a normal kid. I care about you and I like you.”
At that point, Beth was crying. “Mommy and daddy are afraid of me.”
“Beth, no one is afraid of you. Your parents and I just want you to feel better.”
“They’re afraid,” said Beth. “And so are all their friends. They stare at me a lot.”
“What do you mean, friends? Have your parents introduced you to a lot of people?”
“Umm hmm,” she said, sniffling. “Lots. They always want to meet me and they always stare.”
“I don’t like it when people stare at me either,” said Oscar. “I can teach you a trick to get them to stop doing that.”
“How?”
“Well, the next time someone is staring at you and making you feel weird,” Oscar explained, “I want you to make this face.” He sucked his cheeks into his mouth and made a puckering fish face.
Beth smiled wiped away some of her tears.
Then Oscar put up both his open hands to his ears like flapping fish gills. “The next time they stare,” he said, “give them the old fish face.”
Beth started to giggle. “You look really silly like that,” she said.
“Silly, maybe,” said Oscar, “but it cuts down on people staring.”
Beth acted out her own fish face and the effort seemed to cheer her up. “See, I can do it, too,” she said.
...
On Oscar’s way out of the Bardo home that evening, he ran into Eva, who was standing outside by the front entrance. She was staring up at the night sky when she noticed Oscar. It was odd to see her without her husband because they always seemed to be together.
“I see where Beth gets her interest in astronomy,” Oscar said, stopping for a moment on his way down the front stairs. “I would think it would be hard to see anything with all the stray light pollution from the city.”
“How is my daughter feeling?”
“You should go see her,” said Oscar. “She seems to believe that you and your husband are afraid of her.”
“I see.”
“Beth is very good at picking up on the moods of others. I understand that there have been adult visitors to the house, which is fine, but they need to be aware of how they are interacting with a sensitive six year old. We can’t have them staring at her like she is some kind of circus freak or she’ll feel like a circus freak.”
“Her guests are just very interested in her but I’ll speak with them.”
“What do you mean by her guests? I thought they were your guests.”
“Ahh, that’s what I mean,” said Eva Bardo. Something about her expression made it seem like she had caught herself saying too much. “Of course I didn’t mean Beth’s guests. I meant our guests, of course.”
“Of course,” said Oscar.
...
Chapter 20
Arnie’s Secret Project
Arnie McSorely’s face was spotted with bits of crusty dried blood when he showed up to his therapy appointment a few days later. His brother Dale was still trying to calm him down because he had just been in a bar fight on their way to the office.
“I don’t know why you just had to have a drink before therapy,” Dale said to him. “You hardly even drink but we just had to make a stop today.” Addressing Oscar, he said, “Doctor Loste, I just don’t understand my brother.”
“I was feeling on edge,” Arnie said, taking his seat. “Alcohol is a depressant. I needed to de-press my system some. What’s the fucking problem?”
“The problem is you’re an epileptic,” said Dale, “and epileptics shouldn’t drink.”
“I’m just using it for medicinal purposes,” Arnie argued. “I know it fucks with my brain wiring and can cause a seizure. I just needed a drink today. Jesus Christ.”
“And the fight, Arnie,” Oscar started to ask. “Did you need that too?”
Arnie smiled like the question tickled him. He pointed to Oscar, saying, “This guy right here. This motherfucker is smart. I did need it. In fact, it’s why I went in there.”
“You went in there specifically looking for a fight?” Asked Oscar.
“Not exactly,” said Arnie. “I was looking for the right bastard to fuck up, just the right asshole who had it coming. It’s all about selecting the right prick. I don’t want to feel bad later about smacking someone nice.”
Dale crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. He said to his brother, “Go on. Why don’t you tell Doctor Loste what the guy did to make you punch him?”
“I walked up and asked this bastard what he thought about corporal punishment,” Arnie answered. “You know, whether people should be spanking their kids and shit. He looked at me strange at first. Then the bastard smiles and says: ‘hell yeah, gotta teach em.’ Since he answered my question incorrectly, I gave the bastard a smack. Not a big smack. Just something to get him thinking.” He leaned forward in his chair toward Oscar. “You know what else, Doc. I knew he was going to answer that way. That’s why I chose him.”
Oscar asked him, “Did that make you feel better?”
“Hell yeah,” replied Arnie. “Why wouldn’t it? Do you want to know the best part?” He held up his mangled knuckle that obviously hadn’t received any medical treatment. “I got the bastard’s tooth stuck in my knuckle. It was crazy, Doc! Even my dad would have been proud!”
“One could say that you’re perpetuating violence,” Oscar told him, “that you’re continuing the cycle of abuse that your father never stopped.”
“Hold the fuck on, Doc. Now I know what you’re trying to say, but I asked the man the question I did in order to make sure my violence was appropriate. It wasn’t like I was going off willy nilly on random citizens.”
“Did anything happen in the last couple of days?” Oscar asked him.
“Tell him about the project,” said Dale.
“Shut the fuck up about my project. Oscar doesn’t want to hear about that.”
“No, actually, I would.”
“It’s my brother’s main mission in life,” Dale said. “He also refuses to discuss it with anyone outside of me, of course.”
“My brother
can’t keep his mouth shut,” said Arnie. “So much for family secrets. I guess something did happen this week that we could consider significant. Yesterday I finished something that I’ve been working on my whole life basically and my dad worked on it before me. It’s sort of a restoration of a World War II artifact. My dad worked on it my whole childhood, up to when he died. And, as much as I hated him and still hate him, I continued the project and finished it for him. This week.”
Dale said, “He’s been working in his spare time for years and for my brother, that’s a lot of time. He’s also spent all his money on it.”
“You’ll see,” Arnie argued. “That thing is worth a fortune. It’s the only running unit in the whole fucking world.”
“Then why don’t you sell it,” said Dale.
“Fuck you,” Arnie answered. “I didn’t build it to sell it to some rich fuck who won’t appreciate it.”
“That’s interesting,” said Oscar. “Arnie, the part that stands out to me is that you are so focused on carrying out your father’s legacy. He’s a man you claim to hate, after all.”
After considering Oscar’s point, Arnie said, “Doc, you’re smart. I don’t know why I finished the project, come to think of it. It was just in my head all these years, whether I liked it or not. I would find myself thinking about it when I wasn’t working on it. A few times, I asked myself why the hell am I spending all my time and money on this.”
Oscar and Dale waited for him to finish his thought but he seemed to have no real explanation for his massive investment.
“I guess,” he said finally, “the answer is supernatural. I needed to finish the project for reasons that may never be clear to me, for reasons perhaps bigger than me.”
“You sound fucking weird,” said Dale. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aww fuck off,” he answered. “I wouldn’t expect some dumb cop to understand my subtle metaphysical arguments.”
...
When Oscar arrived to the Bardo estate a few days later, the family had just finished hosting a fundraiser for their favorite presidential candidate. The small but affluent crowd was just clearing out when Oscar arrived in the evening. Security men in suits and sunglasses, handlers and their German Shepherds and off-duty cops were scattered throughout the estate grounds. Oscar had to show his ID to get through the front gate and again when he made it to the house.
One of the Bardo staff let him in the front door. When he asked to speak with Lorne and Eva, the housekeeper told him that they were in a meeting and to wait outside the study. The ample hallway was decorated with oil paintings and photographs of generations of Bardos.
While he waited, he heard Eva Bardo speaking in the study. At first, the conversation was too quiet to hear through the slightly ajar door. Then, something must have angered Eva because she raised her voice to a near roar.
“You pathetic little fool!” She cried out. “You’ll do what you’re told if you want to be part of this!”
Oscar decided that he should announce himself and he pushed the study door the rest of the way open. Besides finding Eva’s face painted with a vicious expression, he noticed there was a man on the floor in front of her on his knees. The extremely handsome man in the polished suit seemed to be groveling on the floor.
Lorne Bardo was seated quietly nearby on the leather sofa just watching.
“I’m sorry,” Oscar said immediately. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I suppose I am a few minutes early.”
The handsome man in the suit got off his knees in a hurry and adjusted his horrified expression to the smile of a seasoned politician. He promptly walked over and shook Oscar’s hand.
“I slipped and fell,” he said with a friendly grin. “Doctor Bardo was just helping me up to my feet.”
“Are you all right?” Oscar asked. He recognized the man from somewhere but he was having trouble placing him.
“Of course. Of course,” said the man. “I’m just a clumsy fool sometimes,” he said, glancing over to Misses Bardo.
Eva’s face no longer looked like she intended to slit throats. “Where are your manners, Edgar?” She said to him. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself to a potential voter?”
“Edgar Dunn,” the man said.
“Senator Edgar Dunn,” responded Oscar, as the man’s identity clicked into focus. He had seen the man’s face on television and heard the name many times. “I’m sorry. I guess I need the TV to recognize you.”
“You’re the one caring for little Beth?” He asked.
“Do you know Beth?”
“Oh. No, no,” the Senator said, with his face turning a slight shade of red. “We’ve never met. I’ve just seen her in pictures. What an adorable little girl.”
Upstairs, Beth was filling in the colors on her most recent drawing with a black crayon. She slid the wax over the paper, pressing until her hand was sore, scoring black lines and the outline of eyes and a face. When Oscar said hello, she seemed almost startled. She dropped the crayon and stared up at him.
A tiny black island floated alone on what she had drawn to be a massive, blue ocean. When Oscar looked closer, he saw a black square at its center that could have been a building, complete with a set of smokestacks. He stood there for a moment, fixated on the picture.
“It’s always a bad place,” she said. “Not just in this fold.”
“Can you tell me more about this bad place?” Oscar asked, sitting down beside her.
“I think I know where it is,” she whispered, grabbing Oscar by the hand. She pulled him up and across her room, where she stopped at her picture window. “It’s there,” she whispered. Beth pointed to North Philadelphia, to the old row of factories. “Don’t look at it too long or it will see you.” She knelt down and pulled Oscar back down to the carpet.
“What is that place, Beth?”
“It’s where the bad people live.”
Oscar dropped his head forward in a gesture of total exasperation. “Beth, please,” he said with his voice begging. “Please tell me what is going on here. If you’re making this all up, just tell me. I won’t be mad at you, I promise. I’d actually be impressed,” he said cracking a weak smile. “All I’m asking Beth is you just tell me how to help you. Just please tell me what’s going on because I can’t figure it out on my own. I can’t do it, Beth. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Oscar looked as though he was about to start weeping in sadness and frustration.
The little girl was clearly alarmed at the wrecked look on her therapist’s face. She looked to her right, expecting some sort of guidance or explanation from Mister Smiler. “Is he OK?” She asked her invisible friend.
Beth got up, took a step forward, and stood right in front of him.
“What are you doing, Beth?”
In what seemed like further direction from her imaginary friend, she took a hesitant step even closer to him.
“What is it?” Oscar asked again, looking confused and afraid.
Beth stared at him and took another step closer. Then she opened her arms and threw them around Oscar’s shoulders. The act was nearly violent, like a steel trap slapping shut. Beth held on to Oscar and rested her head on his shoulder.
“What are you doing, Beth?”
The little girl hung onto him and didn’t want to let go. She whispered into his ear, “Mister Smiler told me you needed a hug. He said you’ve been having a hard time and every human needs hugs sometimes.”
…
On Oscar’s way out of the house, he met Lorne by the front door. He was sipping a cup of brandy and looking out over the estate. The smirk on his face when he saw Oscar testified to some drunkenness.
“Do you hear that wind kicking up?” He asked before taking a sip of brandy. “As they say, a storm is brewing,” he said smiling.
“I’m not used to seeing you without Misses Bardo,” said Oscar.
“She’s upstairs with one of our assistants, changing her bandage.” Lorne said before he finished his cup
of brandy in a gulp.
“I would imagine she would be nearly healed by now.”
“She would be if it wasn’t for that third world hospital botching her incision the night it happened,” Lorne said. “If those bottom feeders at North General expect a dime from us, they’ve got another thing coming.”
“Why would you go to North General?” Oscar asked as the blood fled his face. “Chestnut hill hospital is right down the street. North General is right by… Why would you go all the way…?” Oscar caught himself.
Clearly flustered, Lorne Bardo put down his brandy glass, saying, “I don’t know why that came out of my mouth. I’m afraid I’m a bit drunk and don’t know what I’m saying.”
Before he could say anything else, Oscar had already said goodnight on his way out the door.
...
Chapter 21
The Mission
When Dale pulled up in an unmarked grey police-issued sedan, Arnie was hanging out the window from the passenger seat. He saw Oscar waiting out front of the Black Hole and shouted to him, “Look out bad guys! The McSorleys and their shrink are on the case!”
“If you boys are hungry,” Oscar said, getting in the car. “I’ll buy us some Chinese on the way.”
“The way...” Arnie started to ask. “Where, Doc? You didn’t exactly say much on the phone.”
“The Bardo family glass factory,” Oscar said, “in the old industrial area on the very Northwest tip of the city.” He had a purposeful look on his face and his eyes pointed straight forward. “Take Market Street all the way.”
“On the phone,” Dale said to him, “you mentioned you saw some weird shit there the other night.”
Oscar didn’t say anything. He just stared out the windshield to their destination like a guided missile. The therapist’s mind was locked on the glass factory so firmly that he seemed to have nearly lost his ability to communicate.
“Yoo hoo, Doctor Oscar Loste,” Arnie said from the front seat. “Earth to Doc Oscar.”
Enter the Uncreated Night Page 14