In the Shape of a Man

by Paul Clayton

  “Reynaldo! Come out here.”

  Tina’s was breathing heavily when Reynaldo ran out of his room. He saw the papers on the rug and stopped short, his eyes growing big. Tina knew he was guilty and it was all she could do not to rush at him and hit him with her fists.

  “Reynaldo,” she demanded, “did you put those papers there?”

  “No, Mommy,” he said.

  His obvious lie ratcheted up her anger a few notches. “What do you mean, ‘no, Mommy’? Daddy didn’t do it. Christine certainly wouldn’t do that; she’s not devious enough. The only person around here that would have done it is you.”

  Reynaldo’s eyes pooled with tears but they only made Tina more angry. “Bastard,” she spat. “Little bastard!” She rushed into the kitchen and took the one foot ruler from the drawer. She came back out. “Hold out your hands.”

  Reynaldo kept his hands at his sides. “Sorry, Mommy,” he said. “I won’t do it again.”

  “Put your hands out, damn it!”

  Tina brought the ruler down, shouting with each blow, “Don’t, Take, Any, More, Candy!” On the last word the ruler snapped in half and Reynaldo shrieked with pain.

  “Don’t go crying to Daddy about this, do you hear? Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  “You deserved this, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  Although Reynaldo had admitted his guilt, Tina was shocked to see defiance in his face. “Now go to your room,” she said, “and don’t come out until I tell you!”

  Reynaldo howled like a little animal as he angrily scurried back to his room. Tina’s breathing was labored as she gathered up the pieces of the ruler and put them down in the garage. She went back to her vacuuming.

  Her mind raged. That little imp! He made her so upset! He was no good. Just trouble, trouble, trouble. And he was smarter than he let on. He was deliberately coming between her and Allen, trying to break the family up. He was alien, an intruder and usurper. She had to do something. But what?

  Twenty minutes later the carpet was a mesmerizing pattern of swaths, not unlike the raked pebble gardens of the Zen priests of Japan. The drone of the vacuum waxed and waned with each push, the sound soothing and calming. Tina stopped. She knew what she must do. She had to get him out of her house. It was the only way. She went down into the garage to get things ready.

  Allen knew that something had happened as soon as he walked in the door. Christine sat in front of the TV, her face an unmoving mask. Tina was in the kitchen with the door closed. Allen walked back to Reynaldo’s bedroom. He looked in. Reynaldo’s eyes were a little red but he wasn’t crying. He was seated at his desk, pencil in hand. Allen went in his own bedroom and got changed into his casual clothes. His anger and frustration returned. Why did things always have to be so upsetting and dramatic in his house?

  He walked back out into the hall and looked in at Reynaldo.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hi, Reynaldo. Were you good today?”

  Reynaldo looked in the direction of the kitchen, but said nothing.

  Allen went into the room and pulled the door closed.

  “I took candy, Daddy.”

  “Oh,” said Allen. “I’m sure you didn’t take too much.”

  “Mommy’s really mad. She hit me.”

  They heard Tina coming down the hall and Reynaldo immediately turned back to his writing. Allen came out of the room as Tina went by. She said nothing to him and he knew they were all in for another depressing evening.

  They ate their dinner in silence. Allen decided it was better to not say anything until the kids were in bed and then he would try and talk some sense to Tina. After they ate, Tina and Christine sat on the couch together, watching the TV. Reynaldo sat alone in his room at his desk, writing his definitions. Allen washed the dishes. Finishing, he went into the bedroom and got a book and read. About nine he heard Tina putting Christine and Reynaldo to bed. He read until it grew quiet and then went out into the living room. Tina watched the Spanish channel on the TV. A beautiful, bathing suit-clad couple argued beside a pool at a mansion. Tina laughed at their repartee. Allen sat down beside her. She said nothing to him.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he said.

  Tina continued to ignore him, laughing at something the couple argued about.

  “What happened here today, Tina?” he said calmly.

  She continued to ignore him.

  Allen felt himself growing angrier. “Look,” he said, surprised at the coldness in his voice, “you can’t keep treating him like this. We’re going to end up with Child Protective Services on our backs. We need counseling or something. If you won’t go with us I’ll take Reynaldo and we’ll go without you. But something has to change here!”

  She turned from the TV and looked at him. “After he leaves this house things will change.”

  Allen felt like he’d been gut punched. “What are you talking about?”

  Tina glared at him. “I want him out of my house. You call the adoption agency and tell them to take him back, or I will.” Tina returned her attention to the TV, smiling at something the actors said.

  “What are you talking about?” said Allen as panic quickly grew inside of him. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “Take him back?”

  “I’m through with talking about it,” said Tina, turning round to him. “I don’t want him in my house anymore.”

  Tina got to her feet and went into the kitchen. Allen followed her, wondering if Reynaldo was asleep yet, hoping he could not hear them out here. Tina was opening the door to the garage. He followed her down. Tina pointed to a bundle. Shaped like the sarcophagi of an Egyptian boy Pharaoh, it was about three feet long, tapered, and wrapped in black plastic trash bags and tied with yellow cord.

  “Those are the things he came with, his pillow, blanket, his clothes and his toys. He can take them with him.”

  Allen stared at the bundle. It was about the same size as Reynaldo. Allen recoiled as if Reynaldo himself were wrapped up in it.

  Tina went over to the shelves and lifted down the big yellow Tonka truck Reynaldo had brought with him from the foster home. Tina had taken it from Reynaldo a couple of years before for some infraction or other and never given it back. She put it next to the plastic bag. “He can take his truck with him.” She pointed to the bike by the closet. Allen had bought it for Reynaldo three years ago. Tina had only allowed Reynaldo to ride it twice in that time and it still had the training wheels on it. “The bike stays,” said Tina, “and don’t take any of the clothes or toys in his room. Just the things he came here with.”

  Allen felt a mixture of coldness and fear inside that threatened to overwhelm him. “I can’t do that.”

  “You call them or I will,” Tina said flatly. “I’ll give you till next Friday.” She walked back up the stairs.

  Allen stood alone for a few minutes, not believing it. Nobody returned a child they’d adopted. It was crazy! They’d end up on the nightly news. Allen could see the feigned looks of shock on the faces of the TV news talking heads as they set up the video footage—“Today in South San Francisco… a married couple returned the beautiful child they had adopted four years earlier…” He thought of the looks of his coworkers. His boss. Forget about any pay raises or new positions. He thought about the looks of the neighbors. Even the nipple ring skateboard punks up the street would look at them like they were freaks.

  Allen went up the steps and back into the living room. Tina was again seated before the TV, laughing at the Spanish sit-com humor, none of which he could decipher. Even if he could understand what they were saying, He realized he was no longer capable of laughter. He went into the guest room and tried to read. He stared at the same page for ten, twenty minutes. Closing the book, he went back out into the living room. Tina kept her eyes on the TV.

  “Tina,” he said, not sure what he was going to tell her.

  She ignored him and he left the house.

 
Allen wasn’t sure what time he got to McCoy’s. Lou was behind the bar, as usual. Allen could hear the rough laughter of the biker types playing pool in the back room.

  He sat down and Lou drew a tall lager and wordlessly set it before him. There was a soccer game on the TV and they both watched. As usual, Lou was closemouthed.

  Allen thought about the mess he had just left behind him at home and said, “Your parents must be gone by now, huh?”

  “Not the old man,” said Lou.

  “God,” said Allen, “he must be as old as Methuselah.”

  “Older,” Lou scowled.

  An angry curse came from the Hells Angel biker types in the back room, followed by low conversation, then a burst of raucous bawdy laughter.

  “Did you have a good relationship with your father?” asked Allen.

  “Hell no! My old man kicked me out.”

  Allen nodded and said almost into his beer, “I try and be a good dad, but...”

  Lou was watching the game on the TV and didn’t respond.

  Allen recalled Tina’s matter-of-fact tone as she told him of her decision to kick Reynaldo out of the house. Allen saw again the little bundle wrapped in trash bags and tied with yellow cord. There was no way he could do what she wanted. Later, he got unsteadily off the stool and went out to the van. He was about to get in when he thought of calling Tomas and Susan. Maybe he could get them to talk some sense to Tina.

  He left the van and went over to the pay phone. He let it ring for four rings and was about to hang up when Tomas’s voice came on.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tomas, this is Allen. I have to talk to you and Susan.”

  “Allen, do you know what time it is?”

  “No.” Allen looked at his watch. It was after twelve. “Sorry.”

  “Are you and Tina fighting again?” asked Tomas tiredly.

  “Yeah. She wants me to put him back, you know, take him back to the adoption agency. I can’t do that, Tomas. It’s crazy.”

  Allen heard Tomas’s hand slide over the mouthpiece.

  Susan came on the line. “What happened, Allen? What did she say?”

  Allen told her the whole story, everything that had happened from the moment he came home to when he left. When he was finished Susan promised to talk to Tina.

  “Can you call her tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll go over there. You better go home and get some sleep.”

  Allen drove home slowly and let himself into the darkened house. He slept in the guest room.

  Chapter 27

  When I Grow Up, by Garbage, played softly on the PA at the board shop. Rad’s boss Larry was in and Rad didn’t want him to complain about the music and so Rad was careful to keep the volume low. Rad begrudgingly divided his attention between the music and the kid on the other side of the counter who was complaining about his problem. The board wasn’t doing what it was supposed to, the kid said. It wasn’t responsive. Would better bearings help? Better trucks? What about wheels?

  Rad nodded, a serious demeanor to his face. The kid wanted new, more expensive bearings, new trucks and wheels, and the kid would get them. It wouldn’t do to have it get back to Larry that he, Rad, had told some poor little rich kid from St. Francis Wood with ten grand worth of silver wirework on his teeth, that bearings and trucks weren’t his problem, but rather it was his lack of experience and skill. And he certainly couldn’t tell this kid that he, Rad, could jump on any piece-of-shit Target or Kmart board and outskate ninety nine point nine percent of all the guys that came in here, despite what those jerks at Pygmy’s thought. Rad’s mind still railed at the injustice of having not been chosen to skate for Pygmy’s. The guy had even said he was the best skater, but he didn’t have the ‘right look.’ What the fuck was up with that? It was a business decision, Rad knew. It had nothing to do with his skill on the board. But that didn’t help. Fuck!

  Rad looked at the kid’s face which seemed to say, hey, I’m good; it’s the board that’s fucked up! Rad forced himself to nod pleasantly. This was his gig, but it was Larry’s business.

  “I’ll have it ready in a couple hours.”

  The kid’s face lit with a smile as he imagined himself outskating all of his buds. “Cool,” he said, without asking how much it all would cost.

  Rad secured the board in the vise. As he worked, he thought of his troubles. His thing with Jen was still hot. He wanted more of her time to get to know her better, but she was always too busy with her schoolwork. And people kept bugging him about Tawny. His mom had called the day before. “Rad,” she’d said in that slow, slightly dramatic way that meant he should listen up to what would follow, “you’re not going to find another girl like her.”

  “I know, Mom,” he’d said. “Tawny’s great. But I don’t know. I think it’s really over between us.”

  His mom ignored what he’d said. “Those piercings and that hair really bothered me when you first brought her over, but now that I’ve gotten to know her, she’s a very sweet girl, and loyal to boot!” She paused and he’d imagined her looking at him sternly. “Rad, you’re never going to find a better girl to marry.”

  And the week before he had been at Wayne’s place talking about his situation. Wayne had fixed his big blue eyes on him and said of Tawny, “She seems to be the kind of woman to make a family with. You know, to have a lot of kids with. Don’t you want someone to grow old and fat with?”

  “I guess I don’t think that far ahead,” Rad had said at the time, laughing. But the more he thought about it the more likely it seemed, and that scared him. Yeah, Tawny had been his completely. But was that the life he wanted? Jen was beautiful and all, but he didn’t really fit into her world. Yet... But if he went back to college that could change.

  Tawny had finally returned one of his calls. He realized he still missed her. It wasn’t right the way things had ended. She should have at least agreed to talk, then he could have told her his side.

  Rad was removing the trucks from the board when the phone rang. As he picked up the receiver he was sure it would be Tawny. Jen’s voice tickled into his ear. “Hey, lover boy.”

  “Baby! What’s up?”

  “Would you like to come to a party tonight?”

  Rad could hear voices in the background. Jen said something softly to one of the people she was with and Rad heard a girl laugh. “Sure,” he said, “but I have to pick up my nephew after work and take him home. When and where?”

  “At the dorm. Seven o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there.” Rad felt himself becoming excited. “Where exactly?”

  “Building T, number eleven.”

  “See you there…”

  Rad heard another burst of laughter, girls and guys, and then Jen said bye and hung up.

  When Rad walked into the church gymnasium, the practice was already in session. He took a seat in the stands and watched. On the court, Father Mike towered over the boys as he supervised. Rad remembered the priest from when he’d been a boy. Father Mike was tall, maybe six feet six, and stocky. When he’d occasionally walk into the classroom, his physical presence was intimidating and everyone would grow quiet. But he was kind and engaging. All the kids liked him. Despite that, Rad had avoided him, not wanting to have anything to do with him. At the time he hadn’t thought about why. Now he realized that it was because he’d been afraid Father Mike would try and pressure him into joining one of the teams or clubs. He’d always been a loner, never a joiner, staying well away from team sports and Scouts, despite his dad’s admonitions to the contrary.

  As Rad watched the little kids running around on the court he wished that that had not been the case and he’d gotten more involved. He realized now, begrudgingly, that it probably would have been good for him.

  Rad picked little Jay out of the crowd.

  “Where’s the ball?” Father Mike was asking the boys. “Keep your eye on the ball!”

  Rad smiled as he watched the boys running around on the court, confused or
questioning looks on their faces.

  “Where does the center go?” Father Mike asked Jay.

  Jay looked at him dumbly.

  Father Mike turned to another boy. “Where should he be, Tommy?”

  The boy pointed.

  The whistle still between his lips, Father Mike gestured for Jay to get in position. Some of the boys looked at Father Mike blankly, some in awe. Father Mike tossed the ball in, the whistle dropping from his lips. The kids stayed in place. “Go! Go!” Father Mike shouted, breaking the spell. “He’s not going to shoot from there… And if he did he’d probably miss.”

  Rad watched Jay and the other boys bouncing and running, their arms held up at 10 and 2 o’clock positions. Some of them, too immature to get seriously into the competition, mugged for each other whenever Father Mike looked away. A few were totally not into it, standing still and lost as the other boys played around them, then casting earnest cherubic faces at Father Mike whenever he looked their way or explained something to them, then totally ignoring or forgetting what he said a moment later and remaining rooted on the court. Rad watched it all in fascination, forgetting his tiredness, his hunger, and his pending date with Jen. The practice game was suddenly over, the kids high fiving each other as they looked around for their parents or guardians waiting to take them home.