marbles began to justify his scorn.
Each evening, marbles.
Game after game. No rules as far as Bode could determine. She just
created shapes out of little glass balls, and then sent a white
marble spinning across the floor to destroy them. He didn’t
understand because she had been more than this, once. She’d held him when he
was a child and taught him constellations and songs. He hadn’t
grown up feeling completely ignored or alone. His parents had been
distant, but not cruelly so.
He’d known for a while he
ought to move out, get a place of his own. But he truly hadn’t
known where to go. Garland had offered his couch to Bode several
times after a late night out, and Bode had gratefully accepted. But
he couldn’t live with Garland, and he didn’t want to live by
himself. And he didn’t hate living with his parents. There was something
comforting about their disaffection, their pleasant dullness. About
remaining in the home where he’d grown up.
But now he had somewhere to
go. He had someone he wanted to be with. He told his parents about
the upcoming move. They nodded politely and seemed unaffected by
the prospect of letting him go.
“ I love him,” he said, staring at each of them in turn. “That’s why
I’m doing this.”
They nodded again. Bode’s
father’s ball of yarn fell to the floor and unraveled, and he
stooped to pick it up.
It’s okay. I don’t need
them.
He lay on his bed, waiting
for Kilroy to call. Kilroy didn’t work—he had inherited a large sum
of money several years ago, he said. Bode had tried asking about
Kilroy’s parents, about his upbringing, but Kilroy seemed to loathe
the subject, and so Bode had dropped it. But what did bother Bode
was that Kilroy spent huge stretches of time alone and didn’t seem
to want company. On days when Bode had long rehearsals, it was
fine. But on days like today, it drove him crazy. Kilroy wanted
them to live together—to see each other every day. So why did it
still happen that Bode could ask Kilroy to spend an afternoon at
the park with him, and Kilroy could say, “I have some things to do,” and “I’m afraid that won’t
work.”
Bode was startled by a
knock on his door. He sat up. “What?”
His mother pushed the door
open. “Bode?”
“ Come in.” As frustrated as
he got with her, he still desperately craved her attention. He sat
very still, as though she were a wild animal that might flee if he
made a sudden move.
She approached the bed and
sat on the edge of it. Looked at him. “Who is he?” she
asked.
“ Who?”
“ Kilroy
Ballast.”
“ He’s the guy I’m seeing.”
Bode forced his voice calm. It never helped to get angry. “I’ve
told you about him.”
“ But who is he?”
Bode flopped back on the
pillow. “He’s a genius. He’s going to create a revolution. And I’m
going to help.”
His mother was silent a
long time. “Is he kind?” She spoke so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d
heard correctly.
He raised his head again,
lacing his fingers over his stomach. “Kind?”
She scratched her arm. Her
head bobbed.
“ He’s good to me. He cares
what I want to do. He’s…strange, but I like him.”
His mother gazed around the
room. Suddenly she burst into girlish giggles. “We had your crib
right there.” She pointed to a corner of the room. She gazed at the
ceiling. “I’m sorry. I’m so…”
“ It’s all right,” he said
when she didn’t finish.
“ Click…click… ” she
whispered.
“ Mom?”
“ If he’s kind, that’s what
matters. Really, that’s it. That’s all. Your father…” She shook her
head. “I couldn’t do my taxes. For the life of me. And he sat down
beside me and showed me how. He does the yard, and he puts the
patio furniture under the deck when it rains.”
“ Uh, yeah. Dad’s
great.”
She smiled at him, like
there was more she wanted to say. Something he wasn’t
understanding. He studied the bulging muscles of her arm and tried
to remember her
Each evening, marbles.
Game after game. No rules as far as Bode could determine. She just
created shapes out of little glass balls, and then sent a white
marble spinning across the floor to destroy them. He didn’t
understand because she had been more than this, once. She’d held him when he
was a child and taught him constellations and songs. He hadn’t
grown up feeling completely ignored or alone. His parents had been
distant, but not cruelly so.
He’d known for a while he
ought to move out, get a place of his own. But he truly hadn’t
known where to go. Garland had offered his couch to Bode several
times after a late night out, and Bode had gratefully accepted. But
he couldn’t live with Garland, and he didn’t want to live by
himself. And he didn’t hate living with his parents. There was something
comforting about their disaffection, their pleasant dullness. About
remaining in the home where he’d grown up.
But now he had somewhere to
go. He had someone he wanted to be with. He told his parents about
the upcoming move. They nodded politely and seemed unaffected by
the prospect of letting him go.
“ I love him,” he said, staring at each of them in turn. “That’s why
I’m doing this.”
They nodded again. Bode’s
father’s ball of yarn fell to the floor and unraveled, and he
stooped to pick it up.
It’s okay. I don’t need
them.
He lay on his bed, waiting
for Kilroy to call. Kilroy didn’t work—he had inherited a large sum
of money several years ago, he said. Bode had tried asking about
Kilroy’s parents, about his upbringing, but Kilroy seemed to loathe
the subject, and so Bode had dropped it. But what did bother Bode
was that Kilroy spent huge stretches of time alone and didn’t seem
to want company. On days when Bode had long rehearsals, it was
fine. But on days like today, it drove him crazy. Kilroy wanted
them to live together—to see each other every day. So why did it
still happen that Bode could ask Kilroy to spend an afternoon at
the park with him, and Kilroy could say, “I have some things to do,” and “I’m afraid that won’t
work.”
Bode was startled by a
knock on his door. He sat up. “What?”
His mother pushed the door
open. “Bode?”
“ Come in.” As frustrated as
he got with her, he still desperately craved her attention. He sat
very still, as though she were a wild animal that might flee if he
made a sudden move.
She approached the bed and
sat on the edge of it. Looked at him. “Who is he?” she
asked.
“ Who?”
“ Kilroy
Ballast.”
“ He’s the guy I’m seeing.”
Bode forced his voice calm. It never helped to get angry. “I’ve
told you about him.”
“ But who is he?”
Bode flopped back on the
pillow. “He’s a genius. He’s going to create a revolution. And I’m
going to help.”
His mother was silent a
long time. “Is he kind?” She spoke so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d
heard correctly.
He raised his head again,
lacing his fingers over his stomach. “Kind?”
She scratched her arm. Her
head bobbed.
“ He’s good to me. He cares
what I want to do. He’s…strange, but I like him.”
His mother gazed around the
room. Suddenly she burst into girlish giggles. “We had your crib
right there.” She pointed to a corner of the room. She gazed at the
ceiling. “I’m sorry. I’m so…”
“ It’s all right,” he said
when she didn’t finish.
“ Click…click… ” she
whispered.
“ Mom?”
“ If he’s kind, that’s what
matters. Really, that’s it. That’s all. Your father…” She shook her
head. “I couldn’t do my taxes. For the life of me. And he sat down
beside me and showed me how. He does the yard, and he puts the
patio furniture under the deck when it rains.”
“ Uh, yeah. Dad’s
great.”
She smiled at him, like
there was more she wanted to say. Something he wasn’t
understanding. He studied the bulging muscles of her arm and tried
to remember her
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