“Nice,” I said sarcastically, and shook my head. I was Walter Wilcox, period. And what was wrong with that? I wasn’t going to apologize for being who I was. I didn’t live in some blissed-out white paradise like Jason and Lester seemed to think I did, either. I was just a person, same as anyone. And I was sick of being compared to some kid I’d never met. He was as tangled as you could get into my life, but I couldn’t verify his actual existence.
“It’s nothing personal, okay?” Jason said, grabbing his book bag off the table. “May the right side win.”
That was when Naomi got the attention of the library. “No one asked you to wait for anything, Lester,” she said, standing up and drenched in attitude. Voice raised. “Walter was right about you. You’re a jealous, insecure, egotistical clod! And not very truthful, either. I tried to defend you because I thought we were friends, but we are not. Bye.”
Naomi was out of the door before the librarian was up to shush her.
“Oh shit,” Jason said, looking at me.
Lester called after her. “Whatever, let’s see what you say next week.” He looked around at the library. He didn’t see me, as far as I knew. “Let’s see what she says then. I’ll be here.”
I had to pass Lester to get my stuff. I was the pissed-off one, he should be ducking me, but that wasn’t Lester. He locked his sights on me, gave me a nod. “What’s up, Wally,” he said. I ignored it, got my stuff, and went outside.
People looked at us outside. They talked to each other still, but they saw me coming out, they were waiting for me, and they were watching Naomi.
She was pacing like an army lieutenant. “Can you believe that?” Naomi asked me. “He said you were my practice run and now I need to get with a real man. He said I’m making him look bad; he doesn’t wait around for girls. I told him I’m with you. Then he said, ‘Which one of us do you want on your arm? I’m bigger, better-looking, and my skin matches yours.’ Who says that? Who even thinks it—this isn’t 1960 or whatever. And Lester’s supposed to be like family or something. What does Jason think of that? What’s my dad gonna think about that?”
“Do you want me to go talk to him or something?” I asked, although I didn’t intend to leave her alone. She was melting down.
“Here’s another thing: I’m sick of anyone having something to say about me, or about us,” she said. “Next time someone says something to me—I don’t care if it’s ‘You’re a cute couple’—I’m smacking them in the face! I’m taking my boots off and going at them!”
“Stop,” I said, and put my hands on her shoulders, I tried to get her to stop pacing, get her energy down a notch before she went back in there and caused a bigger scene. “Stop, calm down. This isn’t good. We need to cool down.”
“Why?” Naomi asked. “I don’t need to calm down. You need to get angry.”
I brushed the dusting of snow off the brick wall rail that ran along the stairs, and sat down. “Take a deep breath,” I said. She did, reluctantly. We sat there for a few seconds, but I didn’t think she’d sit much longer without saying anything.
“What kind of stuff are you hearing?” I asked. “We can talk about it.”
“Doesn’t matter. Let them talk—let everyone talk,” Naomi said. Her foot was bobbing up and down, her determined gaze settled on nothing. “I’ve got something for them.”
“I thought everyone was preoccupied with themselves,” I said. I laughed. She didn’t. Nope. “Everyone’s obsessed with everyone else. Look at those celebrity tracking sites, every sociopath murderer we know every detail about. Everyone wants to know everything. I mean, that’s it—that’s what we’re stuck with. There’s no way around it. No point in fighting it.”
“So what are you saying? You want to break up?” Naomi said matter-of-factly.
“No,” I said. It was hard to talk to her sometimes. “Stop it. I’m just talking. I’m just thinking aloud. There’s a lot to process.”
She crossed her arms and took a long breath.
“Sorry,” Naomi mumbled. She reached over and touched my wrist. She took my hand, squeezed it. “I get it, this isn’t easy. I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere, ’kay? I didn’t mean that.”
“I wish I could skip school for the rest of the year,” I said with a sigh. That would make things a whole lot easier. “Do you want to get out of here before Lester comes out and crushes my head?”
“I wouldn’t let him,” Naomi said. A smile crossed her face. “You know I’m tougher than Lester Dooley, right?”
I did know that. I knew it now, for sure.
Chapter Fourteen
I stood at my bedroom door after dinner, listening for footsteps or TV noise, or any indication that Dad was anywhere other than his own room. That was what it had come to; I stayed in my room mostly and Dad in his. It was down-pouring change, and neither of us dealt well with that. The Wilcox family plugged our ears and waited change out. Dad was on a mission, though. He was playing a character, the down-on-his-luck underdog detective, out to break the case and clear his good name, and I was in the audience, meant to sit back and idly observe.
I decided it was quiet enough that I could head to the kitchen, but once I stepped outside my door, I saw Dad was reading an article on the Internet. He shook his head.
“God, this is serious stuff,” Dad said, eyes still glued to the monitor. Dad had been receiving threats in his e-mail, threats that apparently I was a part of. “Could be ‘trolls,’ as you put it, but I can’t take that chance. I’ve seen this stuff too much.”
“What stuff?” I asked.
“You name it. You think I haven’t seen violence out there?” Dad asked, closing the browser and facing me. “I see kids with guns, knives. I respond to threats. I see what goes on in people’s homes. I’m not kidding you when I say it’s a slum. I’m not just being colorful. Bad stuff goes on out there. Daily. This is where we live now, and you can thank your mother for that.”
“It’s not that bad,” I said. “At least not with the people I know and go to school with.”
“You’re not going to like this, but I need to do my job as a parent,” Dad said. This was what I’d been hiding in my room to avoid. “I want you to come right home from school for the next few weeks. However long this goes on. And I want you to stay offline.”
“I’m not going to stay offline,” I said. He was trying to keep me from Naomi. He could use all the rationale in the book, but if the end result was that I couldn’t see Naomi, then we both knew what he was doing. “I need to go online for homework and stuff.”
“You know what I mean,” Dad said. “There’s a lot of sick stuff on there you don’t need to be reading. A lot of lies, a lot of negativity, and, like I said, actual threats.”
I’d read the threats and I’d had the same thoughts, wishing Naomi could stay offline, wanting to protect her. But we needed to know what was going on, and we needed each other.
“I’ll do my best to stay safe. I’ll spend more time at home, but I’m not going to stop seeing Naomi,” I said. This wasn’t the kind of change I was going to wait out.
“Naomi isn’t my concern right now,” he said. “Life is my concern. Paying the rent is my concern. Keeping you safe is my concern. And she’s better off home with her parents, too, if you’re really worried. Just give me some time, okay?”
“If I’m worried?” I asked. “You better believe I am.” I wondered if he ever had a leg to stand on, if that kid did confess. I questioned it more and more each day.
“Stop with the drama,” Dad said. “When did you get so dramatic?”
“This stupid case is ruining my life,” I blurted out. It was as if some path to the darker cabinets of my brain had opened up. These thoughts were there already; I’d just never accessed them before this moment, and now they were wide open. “I’m trapped in this mess! I finally have a life, and it’s ruined! Is any of this even true? Am I going to lose my girlfriend over some allegations you’re too stubborn to admit to?”
“Sunshine? I don’t even exist,” I said. “You didn’t even notice me at all until you lost your Internet privileges and stopped arguing with teenagers online. Is that how you acted with Mom?”
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Dad asked. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that. I look bad right now, and part of that—a good part of that—is your fault.” Dad was flustered and pissed off, and so was I. We never talked like this. He was close enough that he could get physical. “I got a kid dating a black girl, and I’m the racist cop. Those are the stereotypes. I don’t need this extra baggage from my own family. I don’t need to deal with this crap twenty-four-seven. You’re throwing me under the bus, Walter. You think I’m ruining your little puppy love life. Well, you’re throwing out my career, everything I worked my whole life for.”
“Maybe you’re throwing it out,” I said. “I saw how you and Gran and Pop and Joe talk. Our whole family is racist, so yeah, maybe I do believe Calvin. I never met the kid in my life and I believe him over you. Just admit it and move on with your life.”
“That’s your family, too,” Dad said. His voice was loud and sharp enough to cut. “You’re every bit the racist I am, if that’s your thinking.”
The lights in the room flickered briefly and then went out. It wasn’t living room lights-off dark; it was dark-dark. I went to the window and there were no lights at all for blocks. The sky was a muggy dark brown.
“Maybe this can get me back to work,” Dad muttered as he got out his cell. He dialed work and waited. “Don’t go anywhere.” Blackouts had happened before in the city, but usually during the summer, and during the day, so when the power went out this time, it was actually dark.
I went back into my room to get my own cell phone. I texted Naomi to see if the power was out there, too. You okay? Power went out down here, I texted her. I had to get out of the house.
Dad was on the phone with work. He sounded friendlier already, but it was a ruse. “Hey, Celebrity Cop, that’s right,” he said to whomever he reached. “Let me out there. We’ll bring the cameras, get it on a network.”
My phone buzzed a few seconds later. The light of the phone screen lit up the room. Parents are out. Jason on a date. Babysitting. Power’s out here, too. She was alone with Kelly. I told her I’d be right there, and that was a promise I wasn’t breaking.
“Come on,” Dad said into the phone, sounding like he was responding to bad news. He turned to face the corner and ran his hand over his head. “You need me out there. I got this.”
“I’m going to Naomi’s,” I told Dad, having grabbed my hoodie and phone and keys already. I was checking the closet for a flashlight. This was as good an opening as I was getting.
“Hang on a second,” Dad said into his phone, and held it to his chest. “The hell you are. Get back to your room. You’re not leaving the house, and she’d better not leave hers, either. You’re safer indoors.”
“She’s alone with her baby sister. She’ll be safer with me there,” I said, clicking the flashlight on and off to test it.
“That’s if you even get there,” Dad said. “Bad types come out when stuff like this happens. You don’t know who’s out there doing what. Stay put, Walter.”
“What bad types are those?” I asked.
“Don’t do that with me,” Dad said. “Crooks, that’s who. I’m on the phone, Walter. Go back to your room.”
Dad turned his attention back to his phone, and the door was shut behind me before he could say another word. I rushed down the stairs without a look back and stepped out into the dark.
“Walter!” I heard Dad yell out, but that was behind me now.
*
I got to Naomi’s place pretty quickly. I walked fast with my head down, my mind racing with angry thoughts. Blind to both time and my surroundings, not deep in thought but with more of a white-noise-grumbling frustration. I didn’t pass any looters or maniacs. Most of the few blocks I walked were quiet. I passed a few cars, a few people walking, and that was it. Another check in the “Dad’s a crazy paranoid” column. I called Naomi, and she invited me up. She was doing better under the circumstances than I would have. Candles lit the living room, and Naomi was calm as could be, especially considering Kelly’s wailing cries. I gave Naomi a big hug when I came in. It was therapeutic and I needed it. I felt the tension leave my body almost immediately.
Between the two of us, we managed to settle down Kelly. In fact, she had a blast. We played number games, counting from one to five, and five to one, getting sillier and more ridiculous each time. We read her short books by candlelight. Naomi insisted I at least try to hold Kelly, and the first thing she did was grab the glasses off my face. Naomi put them on.
“I love these things,” she said. “Wow, these are strong!” Naomi had glasses, too, but only needed them for reading. I loved it when she had them on, though. She looked cute in glasses.
Naomi put them briefly on Kelly’s face and snapped a picture before taking them right back off. “These things would ruin her eyes.”
“My vision isn’t that bad,” I said. “Is it?”
Kelly got sleepy soon after that, and Naomi put her to bed. She was a natural with kids. Kelly was something out of a TV show, all cute squeals and smiles, not like my cousin’s sticky-punchy, potentially homophobic kids.
We made our way to the couch in the living room and got under a blanket for warmth. We kissed by the candlelight. Her face was a sliver of dark, soft orange. Her lips sparked and brought my whole face to life. It felt a world away from everything else. Even the blackout felt like an afterthought. I took a deep, cleansing breath.
“I want to look at you forever,” I told her, and meant it. I wished it could just be like that all the time. I kissed Naomi between the cheek and nose, to the farthest jawbone, to the left of her chin. The bottom lip, and upper lip. I pulled her in as close as I could. Then I pulled her in a little closer.
We kissed a little longer. “What time is it?” Naomi asked. I rested my arm on the couch as she squirmed, looking for her phone. It was around nine, but it felt like it could be any time, or like time wasn’t a thing at all. It was our own special time, apart from everyone else’s. “We still have a while before my parents get home.”
“Did you text them about the blackout?” I asked, but she wasn’t worried about the blackout. She was just babysitting in the dark, and now parked on the couch with her boyfriend. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.
“They never go out. Are you kidding?” she said. “Let them have fun.”
“My dad’s convinced war is going to break out in the streets,” I said. I wished he could have fun, that a blackout could just be a blackout. “All the rioters and looters and crazies see the lights go out and grab their weapons. Start smashing windows and shaking down the innocents.”
“That’s true. It’s happening right now,” Naomi said. “Can’t you hear all the car alarms? The whole city’s burning down.”
“I thought that was the glow of the candles,” I said. “But you’re right, the fire’s reaching for the sky. I can hear the helicopters whirring by. It must be crazy out there.” I tightened my arms around Naomi. “We’re safe in here, anyway,” I said. “Under this blanket, just you and me.”
Naomi burrowed her head between my cheek and shoulder. “Of course, we’ll need to go back out there eventually,” she said.
“We’ve got everything we need,” I said. “Let the police take care of it. It’s apocalyptic out there.”
Naomi was quiet for a moment. I heard Kelly stirring in the next room. I closed my eyes, content, a little sleepy myself even. Then Naomi spoke. “Okay, I’m going to say something again, because I’m t
hinking it.”
“That’s such a bad rule you have,” I said. “You can really get into trouble with that.”
“Please, can I say this?” she asked, and I nodded. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?” I asked. “I’m okay. Especially right now.”
“But I am worried,” Naomi said. She sat up and turned my chin toward her face, her eyes were searching for mine in the dark. “Look at me. I’m worried you’re going to shut down because you don’t like the attention. There’s going to be attention, long after this stuff with your dad passes. Maybe you don’t see it—I don’t know. But if it’s not your dad’s case, it’ll be some other news story or just your everyday racists. Or just curious people. I worry you’ll shut down every time we’re challenged and hide in your shell.”
“Hide in my shell? Is that what you think I do?” I asked.
Her brow furrowed. “It is what you do,” Naomi said. “I’m happy with you and you’re happy with me, but there’s a lot we haven’t talked about that maybe we should at some point.”
“Naomi, I want to be with you. That’s all that matters. No, I don’t like attention. I don’t want to defend myself for liking someone. I don’t want to fight people, especially strangers, and why should I have to? I don’t even think fighting should be in the vocabulary of a relationship. I’m happy with you.”
“Me too, but sometimes relationships are work,” Naomi said. She turned my head back toward her, a little softer this time. “You have to work for happiness, and you have to fight for love.”
“Fine, I’ll fight,” I said, and moved her hand from my face. Annoyed that she’d use that word for the first time in this context. “I’ll fight—I’ll fight dirty, okay? I’ll gouge eyes and use a rock. Who do you want me to fight?”
“That’s not what I mean,” Naomi said. She was sitting up and leaning forward, away from me now, the blanket bunched up between us. “You’re avoiding the issue again. This is exactly what I mean. I’m saying talk to our parents, talk to your dad, talk to me. I want to know what’s going on in your head.”
Bright Lights, Dark Nights Page 18