Once I had finally confirmed that I didn’t have a fever, I just went and lay down anyway, without saying anything. Let them carry on.
The cooing continued until he was sitting on the bus. Then, with Tom inside, his face plastered against the back window and relief painted all over his mug, she was finally silent.
We stood there and waved, as automatically as if we were full of batteries, hands up and down, up and down, completely in sync. Emma’s eyes became shiny, or perhaps it was just the wind, but luckily she didn’t cry.
The bus pulled out onto the road, Tom’s face shone faintly at us, smaller and smaller. It suddenly reminded me of another time when he drove away from me on a bus. Then, too, his face had shimmered faintly at me with relief. But also with fear.
I shook my head, wanted to get rid of the memory.
Finally the bus disappeared around the corner. We lowered our hands in unison, stood there watching the point where it disappeared, as if we were stupid enough to believe it would suddenly come back.
“Well, well,” Emma said. “That was that.”
“That was that? What do you mean?”
“We just have them on loan.” She dried a tear that the wind had nudged out of her left eye. I had a good mind to unleash a sharp retort, but let it go. I had too much respect for that tear. So I turned and walked towards the car.
She plodded behind me. It seemed she’d grown smaller as well.
I got in behind the wheel, but was incapable of starting the engine. My hands were so limp, as if worn out by all of the waving.
Emma put on her seat belt, she was always so particular about that, and turned towards me.
“Aren’t you going to drive?”
I wanted to lift my hand, but it didn’t work.
“Did he talk to you about it?” I said to the steering wheel.
“What?” Emma asked.
“About what he’s planning? For the future?”
She was quiet for a moment. Then it came, softly.
“You do know he loves to write. He always has.”
“I love Star Wars. Haven’t become no Jedi, though.”
“He clearly has a special talent.”
“So you support him? You think his plan is wise? Real smart? A good choice of direction?” I turned to face her now, straightened my neck, tried to seem severe.
“I just want him to be happy,” she said meekly.
“You do.”
“Yes. I do.”
“You haven’t thought about how he has to live as well? Earn money eventually?”
“The teacher has said that he has something to offer.”
She sat there with that large, open gaze of hers, completely sincere. She wasn’t angry, just had such an unshakable belief that she was right.
I squeezed the car keys in my hand, suddenly noticed that it hurt, but couldn’t let go.
“Have you thought about what we’ll do with the farm then?”
She was silent. For a long while. Looked away, fiddled a bit with her wedding ring, pulled it up over the first joint in her finger. The white band on her skin below was revealed, the mark from the ring that had been there for twenty-five years.
“Nellie called last week,” she said finally, into space, not to me. “They have summer temperatures in Gulf Harbors now. Seventy degrees in the water.”
There it was again. Gulf Harbors. Floating, even though the name of the housing development hit me like a shingle in the head every time she said it. Nellie and Rob were childhood friends of ours. Unfortunately, they had moved to Florida. Ever since that happened, they had been pestering us something fierce, not just to visit this so-called oasis on the outskirts of Tampa, but also that we should move there ourselves. Emma kept showing me new ads for houses in Gulf Harbors. Real cheap. On the market for a long time. We could find a bargain. A pier and a swimming pool, recently renovated, a common beach and tennis courts, as if we would need that, yes, it seems they even had dolphins, and manatees, carrying on and splashing around, right outside their front door. Who needed it? Manatees? Ugly beasts.
Nellie and Rob bragged like crazy. They’d made lots of new friends, they said, listing random names: Laurie, Mark, Randy, Steven. There was no end to it. Every week they had Sunday brunch together at the community center, a full brunch for only five dollars, with pancakes, bacon, eggs and fried potatoes. And now they were trying to get us to come down, all of us, yes indeed, they were nagging more people than just us, apparently wanted all of Autumn to come south. But I knew what it was really all about. They were lonely down there on their deep-water canal. It was wretched living so far away from family and friends, to have run away from everything they’d had around them their whole lives. Besides, summer in Florida, you can’t get closer to hell, sticky and hot and horrible, with insane thunderstorms several times a day. And even though the winter is probably just fine, with summer temperatures and not much rain, who wants to live without a real winter? Without snow and the cold? I’d told Emma this many times, but she still wouldn’t give up. Thought we had to start making proper plans, plans for our old age. She didn’t understand that I’d done just that. I wanted to leave behind something substantial, a legacy, instead of sitting there with a run-down vacation home that was impossible to sell. Yes indeed. I’d done a little reading about how things were on the housing market in Florida these days. There were good reasons why these houses weren’t sold the first weekend they were shown, to put it that way.
But I had another plan. Some new investments. More hives, many more. Trucks. Trailers. Full-time employees. Plans for agreements with farms in California, Georgia, maybe Florida.
And Tom.
It was a good plan. Realistic. Levelheaded. Before Tom knew it, he’d have a wife and children. Then it would be a good thing that his father had made proper plans, that the farm was in working order, well maintained, that the enterprise was adapted to the modern world, that Tom had worked here long enough so he knew the craft from the inside out. And that maybe there was a little money in the bank. These were uncertain times. I created security. I alone created security for this family. A future. But it didn’t seem like anyone understood that.
I got tired just thinking about it, about the plan. Before it had given me the energy to work extra, but now the road ahead seemed as long and twisted as a muddy wheel rut in the autumn rain.
I couldn’t bring myself to answer Emma. Stuck the car keys in the ignition, the key was slick with sweat and had created a red mark on the palm of my hand. I had to drive now, before I fell asleep. She didn’t look up, had taken off her wedding ring and was rubbing her fingers against the white band on the skin. She couldn’t fool me, but all the same she wanted to put our whole life in jeopardy.
Chapter 7
TAO
“Will you turn off the light?” Kuan turned around to face me, pale with sleepiness.
“Just want to finish reading this.”
I continued with the old book about early-childhood education. My eyes were sore, but I didn’t want to go to sleep yet. Didn’t want to sleep, wake up and then have to go out into a new day.
He sighed beside me. Pulled the blanket over his head to shut out the light. A minute passed. Two.
“Tao… please. In six hours we have to get up.”
I didn’t answer, merely did as he asked.
“Good night,” he said softly.
“Good night,” I said and turned to face the wall.
Sleep was just taking me away when I felt his hands creeping under my camisole. I reacted to them instinctively, unable to refrain from taking pleasure in his caresses, but I tried to push them away all the same. Wasn’t he tired? Why had he asked me to turn off the light if this was what he wanted?