The Brave

by Nicholas Evans

  It was a stupid remark and deserved the smirk it got.

  "What's new? Well, let me think...."

  "I'm sorry. Danny, I—"

  "Would you mind not calling me that?"

  "I'm sorry. Dan. Your mom told me."

  It wasn't a great start. Tom wanted to ask him to take off the sunglasses, so they could at least see each other's eyes. There were enough barriers between them already. But he didn't feel he had the right. That he had any rights, come to that.

  "How's Kelly?"

  "Okay. She was here all last week."

  "So I heard. She sounds like a great girl."

  "She is."

  "Be good to meet her sometime."

  "Yeah."

  There was a short silence. Tom's heart was already sinking. Out on the pier an old woman was throwing scraps to a raucous squall of gulls.

  "So, how did the meetings go?"

  The tone was a fraction short of sarcastic and for a moment Tom didn't know what Danny meant.

  "In LA. You said you had to come down for some meetings."

  "Oh, yeah. They went well. Thanks."

  "Great."

  Tom swallowed. He wanted to tell the truth, that there hadn't been any meetings. It now seemed dumb to have lied. But something stopped him. He leaned forward.

  "Son, I just wanted to say how bad I feel about what happened between us. There hasn't been a day gone by that I haven't thought about you. And wondered how to make things right again."

  Danny shifted his shoulders and looked away. Tom could see the tension in the muscles of his neck. The boy seemed to be at the edge of himself, waiting for some excuse to erupt or pounce. The waitress arrived with his iced tea and the menus and told them about the day's specials as though she were auditioning for a part in a sitcom. At one point Tom thought she was even going to pirouette. Danny ordered the grilled lobster and because he didn't want to think about it, Tom said he'd have the same. When she'd left he went on. Quietly, in what he hoped was a measured tone, he said how much he regretted his remarks on that last occasion they'd seen each other, when Danny had told him he was going to enlist. How he'd had no right to be so judgmental and should simply have offered his support.

  And all the while Danny made no attempt to speak, just sat there behind his sunglasses, like a screened priest at confession. His mouth set tight, not so much as a flicker changing his expression as he listened. Tom felt a surge of desperation and, simply to get a reaction, whatever it might be, pressed on.

  "The fact is, son, I was jealous. I've always been jealous."

  "What? Jealous of what?"

  "Of your stepfather. Dutch has been more of a father to you than I ever was. Or maybe ever could be. And there you were, following in his footsteps." He laughed. "Not that I'd left too many worth following. Only thing I could ever have taught you was to drink."

  Even as he heard himself say it, he knew he'd gone too far. What had started off as an apology had morphed into mawkish self-pity. And Danny reacted accordingly. He shook his head and sat back.

  "Dad, I can't do this right now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean I can't handle us going into all this history and stuff. I've just got too much going on right now."

  "I know. I'm sorry, I just wanted—"

  "No! I mean it. No more!"

  He held up both hands. It was a command. People were looking at them. Tom nodded and at that moment the waitress arrived with the lobsters. She clearly sensed the tension because the grin rapidly vanished and she went about her business with hardly a word. Tom stared out across the ocean. The haze had thinned a little. On the horizon, the silhouette of a vast tanker was surging south.

  "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Danny said.

  His eyes were fixed on the enormous lobster in front of him and for a foolish moment Tom thought he meant he'd chosen the wrong dish.

  "Mom kept on at me about it, how I ought to see you, but—"

  "Danny, Dan, please. Can't we just try to move on?"

  "Sure, whatever."

  The sarcasm made Tom wince and Danny saw it and seemed to realize how harsh he had sounded.

  "Listen," he said more gently. "I've just got a lot on my plate at the moment and..."

  He looked down again at the lobster who seemed to be staring lugubriously back at him and, despite himself, he smiled. Then he began to laugh. And suddenly Tom got a glimpse of the boy he'd once known and he too started to laugh. And for maybe as long as a minute the two of them sat there rocking with laughter over their lobsters. People at nearby tables were turning again to look at them. It was going to be all right, Tom thought. Everything would be all right again. Then he noticed that although Danny's shoulders were still shaking, he wasn't laughing anymore but crying. And soon the boy was sobbing uncontrollably, his whole body convulsing. Tom reached out and touched his shoulder.

  "Son..."

  Danny pulled away and sat back in his chair but still couldn't stop crying. Then he stood up, shaking his head, and walked quickly across the deck and out of the restaurant and Tom got up to follow then realized he couldn't leave without paying, so he pulled out his wallet and tucked a hundred-dollar bill under a glass on the table and hurried after Danny.

  When he came out of the restaurant there was no sign of the boy. He ran toward the parking lot but Danny wasn't there either. There hadn't been time enough for him to drive away and anyway, surely, he wouldn't just go like that, would he? Then he saw a figure in a white shirt, running away along the beach. Tom set off in pursuit, calling after him but Danny neither turned nor stopped. The sand was soft and heavy going and soon Tom was gasping.

  "Danny! Danny, please! Son!"

  At last the boy stopped. He didn't turn, just stood at the water's edge, clasping his face in his palms. By the time he caught up, Tom had no breath left to speak. Danny was still facing away from him so he tentatively put his hands on his son's broad shoulders, half expecting to be shrugged off. But instead Danny turned and crumpled into his arms, still sobbing. And the two of them stood there, clinging to each other, while the water flooded and foamed over their shoes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  CARL CURTIS, Tommy's new school, was at the eastern edge of Beverly Hills, next door to a little park and zoo where you could go for pony rides and pet other equally miserable animals that lived there. The school wasn't nearly as big or as splendid as Ashlawn. It was just half an acre with seven classrooms, an asphalt yard and a swimming pool.

  To Tommy, it didn't really feel like a school at all. There wasn't even a proper uniform, just blue sweatshirts with the school's name on the front. What made it so different was that there were girls as well as boys and that everyone was friendly, even the staff.

  All except two of the teachers were women. The headmaster, Mr. Curtis, had black hair and glasses and a very white face and stood every morning at the gate to say hello to all the children as they arrived. Then there was Mr. Badham, who everybody called Baddy, who was always cracking jokes and having fun, like trying to cadge your sandwiches at lunchtime. Baddy organized all the sport and there was a lot of it. This, at first, had made Tommy nervous because at Ashlawn sport had simply been an excuse for the bullies to beat you up without getting into trouble. But, thanks to Baddy, everybody at Carl Curtis actually enjoyed it and there didn't seem to be any bullies anyway.

  There was PE and trampolining and basketball and, twice a week, everybody got to go swimming. The boys even did boxing which—probably because he'd spent so much time defending himself at Ashlawn—Tommy found he was rather good at. In his first bout he actually gave a boy called Wally Freeman a bloody nose. Wally didn't seem to mind too much and afterward nicknamed him Floyd, after Floyd Patterson, the heavyweight champion of the world.

  The day always began with Flag Salute. They all gathered in the yard and put their hands on their hearts and recited the Pledge of Allegiance. At first Tommy, being British, didn't know whether he ought to do thi
s. But he'd always loved the Stars and Stripes and didn't like being the odd one out and was soon joining in as if he were a real American. Which was what he'd always wanted to be. It just seemed more modern—cooler, as Wally would say—than being English. You only had to look at the new president they'd just elected. He was young and always smiling and had little kids and a beautiful wife, while the British prime minister, funny old Mr. Macmillan, was about a hundred years old and looked like a walrus who'd lost his tusks.

  At Carl Curtis they held their own election, with two sixth-grade boys pretending to be the candidates, and on election day everybody got to vote. The one who was Senator Kennedy won by a mile, which didn't please some of the teachers, who were mostly Republicans. The result of the real election didn't please Ray either because he was a Republican too and couldn't stand Senator Kennedy. He said he was a disaster waiting to happen and too young to know anything about anything. Worst of all, he was a pinko which meant he wouldn't stand up to the Russians who had hundreds of giant rockets with atom bombs on them, all pointing at America. Along the street from the school there was an air raid siren that was tested every month just to make sure it would work when the Russians attacked. Wally said this would most likely happen at night when everybody was asleep.

  The subject Tommy liked best was English. Mrs. Hancock, the teacher, was impressed by the number of books he'd read and got him to tell the class about some of them. She didn't seem to mind when he got American spelling wrong or said trousers instead of pants. Some of the kids teased him about his accent but the girls really seemed to like it. One of them, Wendy Carter, kept concocting weird things for him to say, like tomatoes can't dance. And because she had a long blond ponytail and was probably the prettiest girl in the whole school Tommy would oblige and put on his plummiest English accent and say tom-ahr-toes cahrn't dahrnce which made her squeal with laughter and try to imitate him.

  He enjoyed history too. It wasn't like Ashlawn, where they had to recite boring lists of dates and all the kings and queens of England. In fact the only king Mrs. Hancock ever mentioned was George III who she called the king who lost his marbles as well as his colonies. Soon they were going to be learning about how the West was won and the railroads were built and how the Indians were beaten and civilized. Tommy could hardly wait.

  Meanwhile Diane was busy preparing for Remorseless which was due to start shooting in just a few weeks. She was having acting lessons at Paramount and having lots of meetings with costume and makeup and publicity people. When filming started Miguel was going to have to ferry him to and from school, but so far it was always Diane who did it. Usually after school they would drive out to Warner Brothers to see Ray who was hard at work shooting the new season of Sliprock.

  Being on set and watching a real movie—or, at least, a TV show—being made was nowhere near as exciting as Tommy had imagined. In fact, after a while it was downright boring. There was too much waiting around while they fiddled with the lights and touched up the actors' makeup. And then they had to film the same thing again and again and again. It took three whole days to film a show that lasted less than half an hour. Tommy couldn't really understand why it took so long but Ray said that compared with proper movies, this was quick.

  Ray always made a big fuss when they arrived on set. On their first visit he took Tommy around and introduced him to all the other actors and the people who worked behind the scenes. The director lifted Tommy up so he could peer through the camera and the cameraman explained how you could fix it so that even when the sun was shining everything looked like nighttime. This was called day for night. A lot of the scenes that looked as if they were done outside were actually done indoors in the studio. There was even a man whose job it was to hide behind the bushes and move them so that it looked as if it were windy.

  Today, however, they weren't going to the studio. They were going to drive out of town to the ranch where all the exciting action scenes were shot. Tommy had been looking forward to it all day.

  He always felt proud when he saw Diane sitting there waiting for him in the new car Ray had bought her. It was a pale yellow Ford Galaxie convertible with black leather seats. There were lots of kids at Carl Curtis who had moms or dads who were in the movies but none as glamorous as Diane. Wally Freeman said she was a doll and today she really looked it. She was wearing a blue-and-white polka-dot dress and those big sunglasses with the white frames. Her hair was tied up in a pale pink scarf. Tommy climbed in and gave her a kiss and, while they drove up onto Sunset, he changed into the clothes she'd brought along for him. He liked to look the part when he went on set. On his first visit he'd worn his Red McGraw cowboy outfit but it made him feel a bit silly, so now he mostly just wore a plaid shirt and his new jeans which Dolores had washed about a dozen times to make them look faded and worn, just like Ray's.

  Soon they were turning off the main highway and onto the little road that wound up into the hills. The air was warm and smelled sweet and there were cactus plants and lizards sunbathing on great slabs of pink rock that shimmered in the heat. Tommy had been telling her about his day and how he'd won again at boxing. He'd been so busy talking that he hadn't noticed until now that Diane wasn't asking him questions the way she usually did. She didn't even really seem to be listening.

  "Are you okay?"

  She brightened.

  "Me? Of course. Sorry, darling. I'm just a little tired."

  They reached the ranch and parked the car with all the film crew's trucks. One of the assistant directors sent word to let Ray know they'd arrived and in a few minutes he came to meet them, grinning and giving them his usual big welcome. They headed out along a dusty path to where the filming was going on, Ray walking between them with his arms draped around their shoulders. This always gave Tommy a kind of glow inside, made him feel safe and normal. Life was so good and happy and packed with excitement that he sometimes worried that it couldn't possibly last.

  Ray explained that they were doing a scene in which Red McGraw had been ambushed by some outlaws and was holed up in a clump of rocks while they all shot at one another. Then he had to whistle for Amigo, his famous white horse, and jump onto him as he ran past. They'd already done the close-ups of Ray shooting and whistling and getting ready to jump and now they were filming Cal Matthieson actually doing the jump.

  Tommy had heard about Cal and was excited to meet him, not just because he was the head wrangler but also because he was half Blackfeet Indian. Tommy had never met a real Indian and he could remember reading somewhere that the Blackfeet had been one of the most ferocious and terrifying tribes of all. Cal wasn't only in charge of the horses, he was also Ray's stunt double which meant he had to pretend to be Red McGraw when there was a fight or when Red had to jump off a horse or a roof or do anything else that was too dangerous for Ray to do. Ray said he could easily have done these things himself but the studio insurance people wouldn't let him.

  Now they were almost ready to shoot. Dressed in an outfit identical to Ray's, Cal Matthieson was squatting on top of the rock, giving some final instructions to the wrangler below him who was holding Amigo. From the top of the rock to the horse's saddle was a drop of about ten feet. The wrangler nodded and led Amigo to a place about a hundred yards away where they turned and waited. Cal went back into the rocks and crouched down. When everyone was ready the first assistant director called for quiet and then the director, who was up beside the camera, yelled Roll 'em! and Action!

  Cal whistled and Amigo pricked his ears and started to run. By the time he reached the rocks he was almost at a gallop and Cal ran across the rock and leaped into the air and landed right in the saddle and Amigo didn't even flinch, just kept on running.

  "Wow!" Tommy called out. Everybody turned to look at him and he remembered how you were supposed to keep quiet and he felt stupid and started to blush. It didn't seem to matter too much though. Ray just laughed and slapped him on the back and anyway everybody was now clapping and cheering Cal Matthieson for doing th
e stunt so well in a single take.

  "It's kind of easy, once you know how," Ray said.

  The sun was getting low and the light was going all golden. Ray said this was called magic hour, the time directors loved best because it made everything look so pretty on film. He had to do one more scene and while he went off to the makeup trailer Tommy and Diane walked over to the corral and leaned on the rail watching the horses. A few minutes after they got there, Cal Matthieson arrived with Amigo. He smiled and said hello and touched the brim of his hat to Diane.

  "That was really impressive," Diane said.

  "Thanks, but it's this fella here who deserves the praise."

  He rubbed Amigo on the neck and the horse snorted and tossed his head as if he agreed.

  "See? He even speaks English."

  They laughed and Cal climbed down and shook hands with them both.

  "I'm Diane and this is Tommy."

  "I know. Good to meet you, Tommy. I've heard a lot about you."

  He had shiny black hair and kind brown eyes with little creases at the sides. Tommy knew Indians didn't really have red skin but Cal's wasn't even brown. He just looked as if he had a bit of a tan like everyone else. It was funny seeing him in Ray's clothes.

  "So, young man. Do you know how to ride yet?"

  "I've been on pony rides at the zoo but that's all."

  "Want to have a go?"

  "You mean on Amigo? Really?"

  "Sure. If it's okay with Mom."

  Tommy looked at Diane and saw that it was. Cal shortened the stirrups then hoisted him into the saddle.

  "How does that feel?"

  "Great."

  "Okay, now gallop over there and jump that rail," he said.

  "Oh, I don't think..." Diane began then realized he was only kidding and laughed.

  Cal showed Tommy how to sit properly and how to hold the reins then how to let the horse know that he wanted him to move out. And as Amigo stepped forward, Cal walked beside him, not holding on to anything, just keeping a little to one side so that Tommy felt in control.