Read Online Ark by Julian Tepper - Free Book Online

final boxes went out toward late afternoon. Oliver went room to room, making sure nothing had been left behind. The place—now completely empty—felt twice as large. Oliver felt big. Well, he was a big person. His six foot three inches and broad shoulders disguised a soft belly, a meaty backside. His hands and feet were considerable. His nose and ears, too. But this openness , he thought, must have been what I first fell in love with when I bought the apartment .
    He sat down on the dining room floor. Leaning into his hands, he looked overhead at a black wire that coiled out of a hole in the ceiling. A silver-plated, bell-shaped chandelier had been there for two decades. It now belonged to Larry, the night guy. But he could remember when he and Rebecca’s mother had bought this place. They’d had a lot of fine ideas about what to do with it. And they had done it all. “Don’t marry an actress,” his father had told him. And what had Oliver said in return? “I’m the better actor.”
    He said it now, rising to his feet. But what he needed was to leave here. He didn’t feel like himself at the moment, and why prolong this mood?
    He took a taxi downtown to his parents’ loft. His father let him in the door. Oliver followed the artist through a dark hallway into the kitchen. He was thanking Ben for letting him stay a few nights. His father said nothing.
    Ben had been in the kitchen eating chicken before his son had shown up. During their sixty-four years of marriage, Eliza had accused her husband of poisoning her with his cooking many times. Ben never read expiration dates. He didn’t mind eating spoiled food. The chicken on the kitchen counter had a bad look to it. There wasn’t much meat left on the bones. Ben chewed the wings, sucked marrow from the drumsticks. He turned the chicken over and ate at its underside. Oliver watched. He had seen his father devour many chickens this way. It wasn’t the kind of thing you ever got used to. Finished eating, the artist washed his face at the sink and then dried himself with a towel.
    Oliver began to ask about his mother. He would like to say hello to her. Was she awake? He could hear the television on at the back of the loft.
    â€œYou sold the apartment?” Ben said, all of a sudden. Ben’s almost circular head was resting on his knuckles.
    Oliver said that it was sold, yes. No turning back. That was it. At the next moment, he started discussing Sondra. He had written her a letter. Told her never to contact him. He hadn’t heard back. But had she nothing to say? That would be a first. With a mouth like hers. Could Ben imagine it? Sondra, rendered speechless?
    â€œHow much did you get?” his father asked him.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œI asked you how much you got for the apartment.”
    Oliver’s head moved side to side. His gaze rose toward the ceiling. He appeared to be counting. In fact, his mind was a blank.
    â€œI asked you how much.”
    â€œAbout nine hundred thousand before taxes.”
    Ben’s mouth stretched wide. His tongue licked at the corners. Then he said, “Well, you’ll give me that money.”
    â€œGive it to you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDad—”
    â€œYou heard me. I want that money.”
    â€œHold on. Just hold on. Dad, how much do you need?”
    â€œEvery cent.”
    â€œDad, that’s not possible.”
    â€œI owe the lawyers a million.”
    â€œWhat about selling the loft?”
    â€œFuck you. And live where?”
    â€œYou could take out money against Southampton.”
    â€œI already have.”
    â€œThere’s a lien on Southampton?”
    â€œHey, it isn’t yours yet!”
    â€œDad, please. You know I didn’t mean that. Look, I sold the apartment because I don’t have any money. How do you expect me to eat?”
    â€œYour wife’s rich, isn’t she?”
    â€œNot like I