“How does that potion stay cold up against your body like that for hours?”
“Cucumbers. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
Bradley wanted a good shot of the secret potion. Mike nodded and handed him the flask, and he drank the cool, sweet liquid. He remembered Mike’s words during their visit to Beatrice in the mine: A journeyman devil can hear human thoughts from thirty feet away, so long as those thoughts are clear and emphatic. “You don’t doubt me as you used to.”
“No,” said Bradley. He took another little sip and handed back the flask.
“That’s good. We can’t build except on trust.”
Bradley felt a thorough sense of well-being easing through him, something whole and undefeatable. “I believe in you, Mike.”
“I still hear small doubts.”
“I could lie to you but what good would it do?”
“None. I truly hope that you and Erin can patch things up. I worry, yes. And I certainly do wonder if you and Erin will be able to see eye to eye on the raising of Thomas. You are very different people. In many ways you have opposing beliefs and values. This is my number one concern.”
“We’ll raise Thomas as we see fit. End of that story.”
“Oh? And when you and Erin disagree?”
“It’s called compromise.”
“I’m tickled by your idealism, Bradley. Your mother had it, a big fat streak running right down her middle. Of course she hid it well but it gave her purpose. It allowed her to steal from the rich and give to the poor, and to herself. Joaquin? The same. Ideals pave the way for so many actions, both noble and atrocious.”
“We’ll work out what is best for Thomas.”
“I wonder if you will tell him who he is, someday? Tell him of Joaquin and his generations through Suzanne and through you?”
Bradley held Mike’s gaze. “I don’t know. It tormented Mom, what to tell me.”
“She came close many times. At night, when you children were asleep, she would go out to the barn in Valley Center and confer with the head in the jar. And read through Joaquin’s brief letters. And write in her own growing journal. This was her secret life, but it wasn’t a fantasy life, it was genuine. As Suzanne Jones-woman, mother, schoolteacher-she was only half. The other half is the woman that you came to know. So, will you tell Thomas who she was? Who you are? Who he is?”
“I’ll know what to do when the time comes.”
“I wonder what Erin would say about it. Certainly, she would leave you instantly and forever if she knew what you have kept from her. The head, the history, the fortunes you have plundered every bit as nimbly as Joaquin ever did. I’m impressed that you’ve kept her in the dark for as long as you have. But. . I can’t see her tolerating your most unusual truths. Certainly she would not reveal them to her firstborn son. Erin would take Thomas and move to the Borneo jungle before doing that.”
“I’m sorry you think so little of her. She’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Don’t lie to yourself or me. What about the loot you so enjoy taking? The loot that compounds monthly in your safes under the barn? You want your treasures very badly, too. And you crave the excitement of snatching them. It’s in your blood.”
“We’ll work it out.”
“I have something to tell you. I want you to listen until I’m finished, and remain outwardly calm. I want no answer at this time. I only want you to hear. Can you do this?” Bradley sipped the Scotch and waited. Mike placed his hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Bradley, you will soon realize that you need a companion on your journey with Thomas. I want you to consider Owens. She is markedly fond of you. She is everything she appears to be-a beautiful, bright woman. Look at the way she dances. Look. I know her inside and out. She is not my daughter but my partner, as you may have concluded. I have never had a more loyal, agreeable, satisfying, and satisfied partner in all of my long life. She could bring all of these qualities to you. In order to do so she would need to break away from me completely and absolutely-Owens can only give herself to one purpose at a time. She is simply that way. It is her character, and one I cherish. But I would willingly transfer her to you. Owens and I have discussed this. She would make an exemplary wife, and mother for Thomas. She has depths that you do not have, and she would open them to you and to your son. She wants children of her own, with the right man, of course. In the long run, Bradley-and the long run is foremost on the minds of every being in this room-I want what is best for you and Thomas. I love Erin dearly as a sister and a friend but she is not an ally to me, except as she is an ally to you. If she is your enemy, she becomes my enemy and she will be engaged as such. If her heart remains hard against you, and if Thomas becomes the sole focus of her life, then you will become diminished by the rage and impotence of unanswered love, and Thomas will grow up to become a hesitant, coddled, insignificant man. You must consider the necessity of taking Thomas away from Erin and allowing Owens help you raise him.”
“If you lay a hand on either of them, I’ll kill you.”
Mike gave Bradley’s shoulder a powerful squeeze, then lifted his Scotch. “This is what I mean about rage and impotence, Bradley. This is why I ask you to consider this spectacular and devoted woman. I don’t expect a decision from you now. Enjoy the birth of Thomas. Revel in young fatherhood. But there will come a day when my words and this offer will sound like music in your ears. That day may come soon or it may come later. So, don’t forget, Bradley, that just as I sit here now with you, I will someday sit with Thomas, discussing our mutual projects and the bounties of life, long after your bones are in the earth.” Mike released Bradley’s shoulder and both men stood as Owens came from the dance floor toward them. Her dress caught the chandelier light in shifting facets and her body, perfect and trapped, rippled beneath them. “Behold. See. If I were a man. .”
Bradley hooked his tuxedo coat off the chair and held the chair out for Owens. He slid it forward as her weight settled. “Pardon me.”
“You will change your mind over time, Bradley,” said Mike. “You most certainly will.”
“Go to hell, Mike.”
“I think I missed something,” said Owens.
Bradley walked around the dance floor and through the tables, headed for the stairs. The orchestra started up “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes.” The dwarves sat on opposite sides of an empty table, leaning forward and arguing loudly, an ocean of empty glasses between them. An old woman wearing a prim and very faded Victorian dress, one of the few old people in the room, caught Bradley by his shirtsleeve and thrust a silver flask at him. He swallowed some and gave it back her. She didn’t let go of his arm. “I’m Eva. And Mike told me that you met Beatrice.”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you think of her?”
“I kind of felt bad for her.”
“Well, don’t forget what she is. She’ll be out in a few short years. There’s always been lots of back and forth between us and the dullards we’re trying to keep from ruining humankind. Mike is so swashbuckling sometimes, and darling, too, of course. I’ve never seen him happier than he is now. It’s all your fault! I’m very happy to have you with us.”
“Nice to be on the team.”
“Your timing is pitch-perfect, and the West has always been the most interesting territory, bar none. And this economy is making people question everything they think they know. They’re so angry and afraid and sometimes desperate. You wake up in the morning and can’t help but smell the fear. It’s the most delightful peacetime work environment I’ve experienced since the Great Depression.” She reached up and pinched Bradley’s cheek.
He stood outside where guests arrived and the valets dashed into the dark with tickets in their hands. He dialed Erin and while the phone rang he rocked up and down on the balls of his feet, feeling the strong flex of his calves, and recalled in detail, though for no apparent reason, flying a kite with his brother when he was five, a big blue Chinese dragon with a six-foot wingspan and a long tail and big white teeth. They were at Huntington Beach on the twenty-second of August, 1991, the water was sixty-eight degrees, and the swell was out of the southwest. Now Bradley could clearly see that kite wobbling back and forth in the stiff onshore breeze, zigzagging higher and higher into the blue sky, slashing away with its great white teeth, and he could feel the pull of the plastic handle, and the warmth of the sun on his back, and the grit of the sand trapped between his skinny boy hips and his low-slung canvas trunks.