“Dad?”
“Mitch? That you, son? You still up in Seattle?”
“Yeah, Dad. Dad, I’m having a-hell of a time. Nothing is going right.”
“Well, you just stick with it. You’ll get it all straightened out. I’d call Mother to the phone, but she’s gone to get her hair done. Mary dropped some boxes here. You know about that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, she told me. Dad, what am I going to do?
I’m losing it all.“
“Son, you just stay right there until you get it all sorted out.
I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Say, did you catch the game last night? Did you believe that last play? Who would call a play like that? If I were the owner of that team, I’d take that coach and—“
“Dad! Dad, listen to me. I want to come home. I got to come home. Can you wire me some money?”
“Well, Mitch, I just don’t think that’s a good idea. Now, look, there’s no sense in running away from this thing. You’re up there, you may as well get it all sorted out before you come home. You know you brought this on yourself, acting so wild.
If you hadn’t punched out those guys in the local office, maybe they could have cleared it up for you here. But as it is, you’ve got them all stirred up and they aren’t going to do a thing for you. So you got to go through the Seattle office. You just tough it out and I’m sure you’ll be all right.“
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am. Now Mitch, I’m not going to tell Mother you called. This thing with Mary has her flying around the ceiling as it is, and she’d just get all upset all over again. So I want you to sit down and write her a nice note tonight and mail it off to her. She’s been upset enough about Mary taking little Benjy away, and her stomach is acting up, so don’t‘write anything that will get her worked up. Okay?”
“Is she going to be all right?”
“Yes, she’s going to be fine, as long as she stays calm.
Don’t you give her any more reasons to be crying over you.
Now, you do like I told you, and get better, and then you give me a call and let me know when you’re coming home. I know things look pretty dark right now, but you’ve got to untangle them one knot at a time. Take care of the VA mess, get the help you need, and when you get finished with that, we can worry about what’s next.“
“Yeah. Dad? Dad, I’ve got to talk to you. When I called Mary—”
“Son, I’d love to talk with you about that, but I can’t. Phone bill has been crazy with you always calling collect. I shouldn’t have accepted this one. So I’ve got to hang up now. Remember what I said. Take the problems one at a time. Get straight with the VA and get some help. Then we can worry about Mary and me rest of it. I got to go now. You write your mom a nice note tonight, okay?”
“Yeah. Dad?”
“Good-bye, Son.”
The bright sunlight through the window woke Wizard. Even in his sleep, it had been making his eyes water. He rolled silently from his bed, cursing the hangover and the weariness that had made him sleep in. He surveyed the damage. The den was a wreck. He dressed slowly, in silence, trying to move his head as little as possible. He wanted to lie down again, but forced himself to set his room to rights. He walked very carefully, setting his feet where the floorboards creaked the least.
Black Thomas watched him as he shook and smoothed the blankets. They smelled like Lynda. She had left her mark everywhere. Thomas noticed it when he came over to lie on the mattress. He sniffed and growled softly before he settled. his raw stump hovering away from his body. When he had arranged himself. Wizard lowered himself carefully beside the cat and inspected the wound.
“Looks like it will heal, my friend.” Wizard touched it with his eyes only, moving his pounding head to see it from all angles. “That was a foolish move you made, and I’m afraid you’ve paid dearly for it.”
Black Thomas opened his red mouth wide in a meow of disdain. Wizard was forced to nod, humiliated. “I didn’t say you were the only one who did stupid things. I’ll have to pay for mine as well. I’ve got to find Cassie today. I’ve got to get this whole mess straightened out.”
Moving with ponderous care, he tidied the rest of the room, taking no satisfaction in it. There was more shabbiness than he had ever noticed before. What Lynda’s eyes had touched seemed to have changed overnight. The coziness of his retreat had turned to squalor, the privacy to isolation. He picked up the little pipe from me floor and dropped it into the footlocker on top of the bag of weed. He stared for a long time at me other things she had stacked on the floor. Daylight made them all real. Finally he brought himself to touch them, to stack them back inside the footlocker. But when he tried to drop the lid, he found the hinges racked. There was no shutting them away anymore.
He ate bread sticks and packages of crackers from his food supply. He thought of a cup of hot sweet coffee to wash them down. His hangover vetoed it. Why had he gone drinking with her? How could he have ever forgotten what the mornings after were inevitably like? He straightened the books on his shelves, moving always with a sleepy caution. He shook and refolded his clothes- He set the wizard bag carefully atop the folded garments, not daring to look inside the bag. He had betrayed them. He wouldn’t look at them and wonder what he had lost.
When he had done and redone his small chores, he lay down on his mattress. by the cat and stared around his tiny room. The pigeons had all left for the day. This time of year no young ones shrilled from the nests. No babies to handle, no setting parents to feed. The well worn paperbacks on the shelves were stale. He flipped through a Zane Grey, remembering every line of dialogue. It wouldn’t do. He rolled over. staring out the sunstricken window. That was one thing he hadn’t done yet. He didn’t think it prudent to take up his cardboard and blanket again. Not yet. Wait until night when movement in a darkened upper story would not be noticed. He wondered vaguely why Lynda had taken them down. Or if she had. It-must have happened after he passed out.
His body stank. Sitting still, trying not to think, he became aware of his own smell. Cleaning up was something to do, a chore to keep his mind busy- There was fresh rainwater in the coffee can on the fire escape. He scanned the alley before reaching out the window for it. He made a ritual out of his sponge bath, occupying himself with it for as long as he could.
He heated the water over his Stemo can and slowly sponged his body as he shivered standing on a threadbare towel. He was thinner than he remembered being. He rubbed at a spot on his chest for some moments before recognizing the hickey she had left. He re-dressed slowly.
The events of the night before came back to him slowly, as elusive as last week’s fragmentary dreams. He moved back through them slowly, flinching at every stop. But when he came to the image of Booth crumpling down the wall, it was more than he could stand. He rose to pace his room with catsoft steps. Twice he went to the window. On the mild trip, he took his boots with him. He surveyed the alley, then slid up the window and stepped out onto the fire escape. Black Thomas raised a sleepy head from where he sunbathed on the mattress.
He gave a warning growl and lay back to sleep.
Wizard had given up all pretense at blending. Shaving in the minors of the stainless steel restroom near the fire station was something he did for his own comfort. He still didn’t recognize the man in me mirror. He wondered what to do with himself today. He refused to try buying coffee again. He could no longer feed the pigeons. If he went to Occidental Paric, Lynda would find him. At the market he would have to face Euripides, at the Seattle Center he would have to deal with Rasputin. For long moments it seemed as if his future was made up solely of the things he could not do. Then he thought of the Waterfall Gardens.