Close to Home

by Nolon King

  “His?”

  “Yeah,” Selena said without hesitation. “His.”

  “What if the dad was cheating on the mom? He kept telling his mistress that he was going to leave his wife. But of course he didn’t, and was never going to. So, hell hath no fury, she burns the house to the ground.”

  “A female isn’t likely to murder an entire family just to get revenge on the man. Don’t get me wrong, woman are capable of evil, but that doesn’t fit the MO.”

  “Maybe she thought he was alone. Or he was supposed to be. Maybe one of his lies was about a very particular schedule. Maybe Thursday was swim practice, and the kids never missed it. The wife took them, because that was her job.”

  He waited for her answer, expectant like a child.

  Dane had always been unusually open for his age, at least with her, but now he spoke like a grown man.

  “Even if his mistress burned down the house, a woman wouldn’t have left that scarf. I just don’t see it.”

  He shrugged. “You know best.”

  Selena wondered if she did.

  The kid clearly needed an outlet. His father wasn’t much of a listener from what she understood, and Dane liked to talk. The human need for expression ran deep, and too many teenagers vented in the wrong ways. He had a terrific head on his shoulders, so Selena wanted to encourage the conversation, even though it was raw. Besides, there was something missing there, something to fix. And that was the cream in her coffee.

  Dane was in many ways a blend of her sons. He had Corban’s depth and Levi’s strength, but she connected with him differently than either of them. Different from anyone, really.

  And the way he looked at her, so adoring, it wasn’t like Selena could pretend she wasn’t basking in its glow. It had always seemed so motherly. But now she wondered if it was. Nothing had changed except everything. She could no longer see him as a teenager — filled out in the shoulders, with perfect posture and a slightly squared jaw.

  Selena looked into his eyes and said, “What are you thinking?”

  She expected him to shrug again, maybe hesitate, but there was barely a pause. “About the difference between life and death.”

  Adam entered the living room and looked at the TV, his eyes going wide at the sight. As he turned toward the kitchen and saw Selena and Dane at the counter, his nose twitched, and so did his bottom lip at the corner.

  “What about the difference?” Selena asked.

  Dane’s thick eyebrows bunched together. This time he took a moment.

  “Both are beautiful. In their way.”

  Adam watched them intently, but he didn’t interrupt.

  “What do you mean?” Selena probed. “How is death beautiful?”

  “Did you ever hear about the time Life and Death sat down to have a talk?”

  Selena honestly wasn’t sure if she had. “Tell me.”

  Adam was closer, trying not to be obvious, but his pissy face had already betrayed him. Couldn’t he see that this wasn’t about him right now? Dane was a motherless child, regardless of his age, and she was at the edge of helping him.

  Adam could live without her coddling right now.

  “Life asked Death why people loved Life so much, while everyone always hated him. Death said, Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth.” He paused, looked away before looking back, then continued. “But I don’t think that’s true. We both know that Life is a painful truth, no different from Death.”

  “Yes,” Selena said. “I suppose it is.”

  Chapter Five

  Levi assumed the position, rolled his shoulder, and let the baseball fly.

  It clinked against the leaden milk bottle, but didn’t manage to tip it, or the two underneath it.

  Elliot said, “You, my friend, suck at Spill the Milk.”

  Levi retorted, “You, my friend, suck at existing.”

  “I don’t give a shit if you want to waste all your money on stupid games.” Elliot gestured down the row, from the dunk toss to the ring toss, with a rigged game of bingo in the middle. “But do we really have to waste all of our time?”

  “One more, then I swear we’re done.”

  Levi handed the carnie some cash, trading it for another handful of balls, a half-grin, and a lukewarm, “Good luck.”

  The annual Almond Festival was the town’s biggest event. It lasted just two days, but everyone came out. Levi had loved it from the beginning: greasy corn dogs, sticky caramel popcorn, and throwing it all up after one too many rides on The Colossus. He wasn’t seven anymore, but somehow the cheesy festival still carried a thread of excitement he couldn’t explain.

  Maybe it was the first fun he and Corban had experienced since Mom closed her practice to move here.

  But right now they weren’t riding The Colossus, or eating any funnel cake. Because Levi was determined to knock those milk bottles off of their goddamned pedestal. Elliot, Dane, and Pussabo all muttered impatiently, but they waited for him anyway. Corban and Kari stood off to the side, practically pouting. Levi had no idea why they were even there.

  He threw another ball, hard enough to really feel it in his shoulder.

  Again the ball clinked off of the bottle.

  “You know this is rigged, right?” Dane said, as though he hadn’t muttered it a dozen times already.

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t do it anyway.” Levi hurled the ball, missing the bottles entirely.

  “Aren’t you supposed to get better the longer you play?” Dane asked.

  Corban laughed.

  Fuck you, Corban.

  “It’s a good thing they didn’t cancel the festival,” Elliot said. “I would have hated to miss the beanbag toss and the lollipop tree. I totally forgot we were ten.”

  Pussabo took Levi’s side. “Maybe he was feeling nostalgic.”

  “They were never going to cancel the festival,” Dane said.

  Corban disagreed. “Sure they would have.”

  Kari, nodding beside him, their hands too close said, “People are scared.”

  “Because there was a fire?” Dane asked.

  “Because someone might have set it,” Kari said.

  “The mom probably left a candle burning, or something.” Dane looked over at Kari, and his tone was more cutting than it needed to be. “Or maybe Kari’s dad did the electrical work.”

  “Fuck you, Dane.” Then Kari turned to Corban. “We can go whenever you want to.”

  “Even if someone did set the fire,” Levi said, “it’s not like there’s a dude running around loose with a flamethrower. Maybe the dad owed the mob money or something.”

  “Right.” Elliot laughed. “Everyone knows how far Cosa Nostra is willing to take it in the dark alleys and McMansions of Almond Park.

  Pussabo said, “It’s not just about being scared. Some people think it’s in bad taste to have a celebratory event in light of a tragedy.”

  “Some people like your parents? I’ve told you a hundred times, man.” Elliot shook his head. “Their judgement lost all credibility the day they named you Pussabo. And they’ll never get it back. Your name is a permanent stain.”

  “People are having fun.” Levi gestured around the festival. “This gives them a way to forget, and the place to do it.”

  Again, his brother had to be an asshole: “Maybe we shouldn’t be forgetting so fast.”

  “What should we do then, Corban?”

  “Maybe delay it. Wait until we know more. Who knows what that detective guy is going to find out? The scarf shows it wasn’t just an accident. It’s spring in Almond Park. Who wears scarves?”

  “Or puts them in their mailbox?” Kari added.

  “Exactly,” Corban finished.

  “The show must go on,” Levi said.

  Corban bit his bottom lip, like he did when he was about to be a baby. “People just died. An entire family.”

  “Families die every day.”

  “Especially if you count what’s happening on the inside,” El
liot said.

  Dane laughed. Then Pussabo joined him, even though he tried not to.

  “It’s not funny,” Corban snarled.

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Corban. That’s the recipe for solid comedy. Tragedy plus time equals hilarity.” Levi winked at his brother. “And that’s why you’re not funny.”

  “They died yesterday. And I don’t think that being a dick is funny.”

  “Name a famous comedian who isn’t a dick.”

  “Levi isn’t wrong,” Elliot said.

  Corban shook his head and clenched his fists, stepping away from Kari, toward Levi. “How can you make judgments about people you don’t even know?”

  “Dad knows them.”

  “That doesn’t mean you do.”

  “I will someday, because I’ll be up on the stage with them. If you ever meet a famous comedian, it’ll be thanks to a favor from someone in your family, and then that comedian will feel sorry for whichever one of us let you in the room, because they’ll know we had to live our lives with someone who was so painfully far away from ever being funny.”

  As soon as the rant wound down, Levi wished he hadn’t said it. He’d gone too far and he knew it.

  Everyone else did, too. Because the group was now silent. As if the crowd of six was too timid to speak, everyone waiting for what might happen next.

  Corban held Levi’s stare. He tried not to blink but then finally did and turned to Kari. “You wanna go to the Wembley House?”

  She nodded. “Better than here.”

  “Hey you guys, do you remember when Corban and Kari used to be fun?” Levi smirked at his own barb, to bury his irritation.

  Because no, he didn’t like Kari leaving with Corban at all.

  “Whatever, Levi.” Corban turned around and started walking away, with Kari a stride behind him.

  A hundred insults crowded onto Levi’s tongue, but he swallowed them all and let Corban leave with Kari. He turned back to his friends. Everyone looked serious, even Elliot.

  He looked at Levi. “That sucks, man. What the hell happened with you two?”

  Dane spoke before Levi could answer.

  “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  Levi could speak for himself, but Dane was right. And bitching about Corban wouldn’t be wise, because eventually they would make up, then everything would go back to normal. He shouldn’t say stupid shit that he would have a hard time taking back later.

  Although maybe he already had.

  His fuse had been so short lately. The thing he was best at — finding the sunny side of just about anything, the same skill that made his father the author of so many smiles — seemed to be getting harder. As Levi inched closer to manhood, he didn’t like who he was slowly becoming. Dad would be so disappointed.

  “I was asking Levi,” Elliot said.

  “Dane’s right.” Levi gestured at The Colossus. “You guys ready to split?”

  Elliot turned to the carnie. “Can you just take all of our money right now? That would be a lot more efficient.”

  Chapter Six

  “When exactly did your brother become such an asshole?” Kari asked, the second they were out of earshot.

  Corban didn’t answer. Instead he said, “Thanks for coming to look at the house with me. Levi thinks it’s stupid. He won’t go with me even when we’re getting along.”

  “Of course.” Kari didn’t press him about Levi, and Corban was grateful for it. Instead she nodded toward the old home, looming at the end of a long road. “The house is so pretty.”

  “It’s from 1908,” Corban told her, as though Kari was the only one in the city who didn’t know, or he hadn’t already told her a hundred times. “I wouldn’t call it pretty so much as ornate. Late Queen Anne Victorian. It’s the oldest building around.”

  “Is that why you want to be an architect? To make things that last?”

  “I guess,” Corban said. “Even if we managed to delay the inevitable war with our robot overlords, the longest we’re going to live is like a hundred years or so. But a building can last a lot longer than that.”

  “And it can look really tacky in ten years. Like if you build a strip mall.”

  “People will live and work inside my buildings. And if I do a good job, maybe I can even make their lives a little better.”

  They stopped in front of the Wembley House. Kari looked from it to Corban. “You don’t suppose there’s anything new inside this year, do you?”

  “Are you saying you don’t want to go in?”

  “I’m saying that I’ve seen it before, a few times now. And yeah, old chandeliers are pretty, and wow, that’s a really curvy banister, but both of my parents are at the festival. So why not go back to my house? We’ve never been there alone.”

  The world stood still for a moment as Corban tried to figure out if Kari was serious.

  “You want to go to your place?”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  Maybe because they never had and even though he wanted to, Corban hadn’t been sure they ever would.

  Maybe because if he really did get the girl of his dreams totally alone, perhaps even in her bedroom, he wouldn’t know what to do.

  Maybe because Corban had the wrong idea.

  “What would you want to do?”

  She took his hand and gave him her usual smile, but in a way that she had never offered it before. “Stuff.”

  And then they were walking. Fast. A single skip faster and they would be at a run. Corban would have galloped, if he thought it wouldn’t scare Kari off.

  When they got there, she fumbled with her keys in the front door, visibly nervous.

  This isn’t happening.

  She opened the door and the air conditioning kissed him, cooling his sweating skin, overheated from the hot walk in the sweetest heat.

  Kari took his hand, and Corban knew that his life was about to change.

  “Kari?” her father called from what sounded like the other side of the house. “Is that you?”

  “Shit,” she whispered. “Fuck. Sorry.”

  “What should we do? Should we leave?” There was a terrible clatter, something like a drawer full of flatware falling on gravel, followed by a cascade of barely audible mumbles. “What is that?”

  Kari shrugged. “You know my dad.”

  But Corban wondered if he did. If anyone did.

  “Should we go?”

  It was too late. There was the loud tromping of feet on linoleum, and then Ollie appeared in the living room. He often looked odd or off or disheveled or something. But tonight he looked wild. His usually too-still eyes were dancing. His body seemed to be fighting not to twitch.

  “Kari. Corban.”

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “You guys aren’t at the festival?”

  “It was stupid. We decided to come home.”

  For the first time that night, Corban was glad that he was no longer holding Kari’s hand, especially with the way Ollie was eyeing him. “Did you and Corban go to the Wembley House?”

  “Yep. Same as last year,” Kari said, before Corban could. “But Levi and Company were all being jerks, so we figured we’d come back here and watch TV or something.”

  “My mom was looking forward to having the house to herself tonight,” Corban offered, before Ollie could wonder why they wouldn’t be watching TV at the Nash place, seeing as how it had three times as many, and each of them was twice the size. “We can go back to the festival, Mr. Harris. We don’t want to be in anyone’s way.”

  “It’s Ollie, Corban, for the last time. And it’s fine. I’m travailing right now.”

  “Travailing?” Corban repeated.

  “He means he’s working hard at something,” Kari translated. “He’s in his space.”

  “Oh,” Corban said. “Cool.”

  “So, we’re going outside to sit on the porch. Okay, Dad?”

  Ollie looked at Kari like he didn’t really hear her, said, “Sure, sure, sure,
” then turned around while the sures were still coming out of his mouth and ambled out, quickly gathering speed as he left the room.

  “Sorry,” Kari said, shaking her head.

  “That your dad’s home?”

  “That he exists.”

  The banging was back. Drawers opening and closing, cabinets slamming, things getting dragged across the floor.

  “What is that?” Corban asked.

  “You think I know, just because I live here?”

  Corban laughed. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

  He always asked Kari about her father, same as all of her friends. The only difference between Corban and the rest of them was that he didn’t talk shit about Ollie behind Kari’s back. But he sure heard the whispers, including the ones that came from his brother and their friends.

  Levi said that Ollie had the “insane look of a pedophile set loose inside an orphanage.”

  Dane disagreed, often stating that Kari’s father didn’t strike him as weird, so much as shifty.

  Pussabo thought he might have something wrong with him, but that he deserved the benefit of the doubt, especially seeing that he was Kari’s father.

  Elliot said, “People are strange, when you’re a stranger. Faces look ugly, when you’re alone.”

  Corban agreed with Pussabo most, but not completely. Corban didn’t think that benefit of the doubt was necessary. Everyone was being narrow-minded. Ollie was eccentric. But that didn’t make him a liar. It didn’t make him dangerous. It made the man interesting.

  It was entirely possible that Ollie Harris was playing a game with the world.

  Kari’s mother Cynthia appeared and asked him if he would like something to drink, like always. But this time when he said sure, and she went to get him some chocolate milk, she poured it into a wine glass.

  Cynthia explained as she handed it to Corban. “We’re drinking everything out of wine glasses now. Wine, Pepsi, chocolate milk, water. All of it. Ollie’s idea.”

  Kari’s mother rolled her eyes to let Corban know she was in on the joke, but there was something cool about that. She understood her husband’s sense of humor deeply enough that it had become part of her DNA.