In the Shape of a Man

by Paul Clayton

  Rad waved at Jay, then walked over to him slowly.

  “You got some good moves there, little guy,” Rad said.

  Jay smiled self-consciously.

  Father Mike saw Rad and nodded a greeting. Rad went over to him and shook his hand.

  “How’s it going?” the big priest said.

  Rad nodded. “Goin’ good.”

  “Liar,” said Father Mike. “I was talking to your mom.”

  Rad laughed sheepishly. “That’s my mom.”

  “She thinks you’re lost and too much the loner these days. Is that right?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” said Rad. “I have a job…”

  “C’mon, Rad. Your mom told me all about it. That’s not exactly a career path… working in retail.”

  “It’s not retail,” said Rad.

  Father Mike went on as if Rad hadn’t spoken, “Why don’t you come by and we’ll talk. I promise I won’t lecture you. We’ll just talk.”

  “I don’t know,” said Rad. “I don’t have a lot of extra time.”

  Father Mike laughed.

  Rad blushed, momentarily dumbfounded. “Okay,” he said. “Can I call you?”

  Father Mike nodded. “Sure. Anytime. Call the rectory. If I’m not there they’ll take a message.”

  “Cool,” said Rad. He took Jay by the hand and they headed for the door.

  Rad drove his mother’s car down 19th Avenue and turned into the dorm complex. He found Building T easily and soon stood before the door of number eleven, surprised at how quiet it was—no music, loud laughter or talk emanated from the place. It didn’t sound like a party was going on in there. Maybe Jen had gotten the address wrong. He rang the bell.

  A woman in her late twenties with her blonde hair coiled in a bun atop her head answered the door. She wore a cocktail dress and a string of pearls about her neck. Rad felt a little self-conscious at his own clothing: jeans and a tie-dyed tee shirt; he hadn’t had time to go home and change. This had never been a problem when he went to Jen’s; they didn’t stay dressed very long anyway.

  “Hello,” said the woman, her blue eyes widening as she smiled. “You must be Rad.”

  “Yes,” said Rad.

  “I’m Polly.” She extended her hand. “I’m an old friend of Jen’s. I’m so glad you came.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Rad as he followed her into the apartment.

  “I invited two other couples,” Polly said, “but they couldn’t make it.”

  “Oh,” said Rad, nodding as he spied Jen seated on the couch. A young man, prematurely balding, sat in a chair across from her. The man was nattily dressed in slacks and a Polo shirt. For some reason he didn’t fathom, Rad took an immediate dislike to him.

  Polly indicated the man as she and Rad approached. “This is my fiancée, Harold. We’re flying out of SFO tonight to see my parents.”

  Harold got to his feet and extended his hand. “Hello. You must be Rad, right?”

  Rad shook his hand. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

  Harold nodded as he sank back into his chair. Rad sat next to Jen on the couch.

  “Would you like a beer?” Polly asked Rad.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  Harold, Jen and Rad were silent for a minute as Polly left the room, smiling at each other. Polly brought back a green bottle of Heineken. She pried the top off and handed it to Rad, then pushed a chair over next to Harold.

  Harold smiled at Rad. “Yours is an interesting name, Rad.”

  Polly smiled broadly and focused on Rad. “Yes, it is.”

  Rad’s initial dislike of Harold, which he knew was unfair, swelled. “It’s a Viking name, actually,” he said.

  “Ooh,” crooned Polly, “how interesting.”

  Jen began rubbing Rad’s shoulder. “I never knew that,” she said. She laughed a little self-consciously. “But I never wondered about it, actually.”

  “It has a nice sound,” said Harold, “you know, as in the shortened version of radical.” He turned to Rad. “I thought perhaps it was a nickname.”

  Rad forced himself to smile.

  “Do you go to class with Jennifer?” Harold asked.

  “No.” Rad felt a twinge of embarrassment. “I work at the mall, building boards.”

  “Boards?” asked Harold.

  “Skateboards,” interjected Jennifer. “Rad is quite a skater. He almost made it to the X Games.”

  “Oh,” said Harold, nodding as he sucked his upper lip downward. “You know, I did a little skateboarding myself when I was a kid.”

  Polly leaned forward, ignoring Harold’s comment. “I think it’s amazing what those kids do on skateboards. It’s a wonder they don’t break every bone in their bodies.”

  Jennifer nodded.

  Rad smiled at Polly. “If they keep at it long enough, they will.”

  They all laughed. Rad took advantage of the lull to try and change the subject of the conversation from himself. “Where’s Cait?” he asked Jen.

  Jen smiled. “Back at my place. She has a date.”

  “Oh,” said Rad.

  Polly nodded pleasantly, without adding anything. Rad mostly listened as the conversation meandered from soccer to politics, to music.

  “Last month we went to see Don Giovanni,” said Polly.

  “Is he some kind of European pop singer?” Rad asked.

  Polly and Jen laughed. Harold said nothing, but he was unable to hide the smile on his face.

  “Don Giovanni,” Jen explained to Rad, whose face was beginning to redden, “is a classic opera.”

  Rad laughed, trying to be gracious, but his ignorance of such things stung him inside like a slap. The loud peal of the doorbell took everyone’s attention momentarily off Rad’s faux pas and they waited expectantly as Polly went to answer it.

  “Well,” said Polly when she returned, “the cab is here.”

  Harold brought two bags from the bedroom and he and Polly said their goodbyes at the doorway. The door clicked closed.

  Jen got to her feet and bolted it. She turned to Rad. “I thought they’d never leave.”

  Rad shrugged.

  Jen looked deep into his eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” Now, in the quiet absence of the other couple, Rad felt calm returning to him.

  Jen put her hand on his arm. “Let’s go into the bedroom.”

  Rad got very turned on by everything—Jen, the differentness of the place, the decor. Polly had some kind of modernist painting of a couple sixty-nining on the wall above the bed, and the bed was firm and smelled of exotic herbs. As he was looking around, Jen rubbed his chest and said, “It’s always exciting to fuck in new places.”

  They made love in the cool quiet, finally falling asleep. In the morning they made love again, then showered together. Later, over coffee and bagels, Jen told Rad she had a lecture to attend.

  “What’s it about?”

  “Classical Rome.”

  “Cool. Can I go.”

  “Sure,” said Jen, surprising Rad. He picked up the phone and dialed the shop, getting Larry’s message machine. Rad put a rough, phlegmy edge to his voice, “Larry, I’m feeling kinda sick today. I won’t be coming in.”

  The classroom was a huge amphitheater capable of seating over a hundred and fifty students. Rad and Jen took a seat about midway up in the back. After the place had slowly filled to about two-thirds capacity, a student assistant came onto the stage and did some sound checks on the mike at the podium. Five minutes later the lights dimmed slowly and Rad smiled. Neither high school nor his classes at Ridgeline had ever been like this. A short, sixty-something year old man with sparse gray hair, dressed stylishly in a tailored blue suit and red tie walked purposefully out to the podium carrying a manila folder of papers. He opened the folder, cleared his throat and began.

  “My lecture today will correspond with the chapter 22 outline handout you received the first day of class. Staff will be recording it, so if you don’t have your own mach
ine and you want to get a copy, they’ll have them available at the book store.”

  Professor Howard Katz then proceeded to give a general overview of the Romans and their history. Rad was intrigued by it all. He smiled over at Jen but she was looking down at her notes and did not make eye contact. Professor Katz talked about how the Romans were practical and “problem solvers.” He talked about the ‘Rubicon’ in the south, Gaul on their northern border and how the Romans borrowed much from the Greeks. Most of the students looked bored and tired and the only one in the room seemingly more interested in the subject than Rad was the professor, who gestured excitedly, sometimes pacing out a few steps to the right or left of the podium, then, pausing, then turning away, then back to face the room dramatically. Katz pointed out that the American Founding Fathers had modeled much of their new republic on Classical Rome. Rad was astounded by how much, and the similar-sounding governmental functions—the Senate, from the Roman word, Senex, meaning old men, the Consuls, the “Assembly” of all citizens, like the U.S. Congress. The thing that struck Rad the deepest was the timeline. All of this creative thinking, this emergence of the civilization upon which modern Western societies were based, took place before the birth of Christ, maybe 800 to 400 BC. When men in many other parts of the world were trekking across the savannas to follow the wild game and ripening fruits, or hunting their enemies down and clubbing them to death like animals, the Romans were building aqueducts, roads and temples, and refining and participating in their own government, debating and defining the rights of all their citizens and slaves, expanding their republic. By the time the lecture had come to an end, Rad had decided to go back to school. When the lights came up he told Jen of his decision.

  Her smile did not seem genuine to him. “Really?” she said. “That’s nice, Rad. Well, I have to get to my macro class now. I’ll call you later.”

  Chapter 28

  1015 Skyview Drive. Reynaldo knew something different would happen today. Mommy had spent all morning cleaning, and she had let him play with Christine instead of working in his room. When the doorbell rang he realized it was because company was coming. Whenever company was coming he was allowed to watch TV with Christine.

  The door opened and Aunt Susan came in. Her mouth opened in astonishment as she looked at Reynaldo and Christine. “They’re getting so big now!” she said to Mommy. “So grown up!” Aunt Susan knelt. “Come and give me a hug.”

  Christine went over shyly and Aunt Susan pulled her close. Reynaldo looked at Mommy and held back. “C’mon, Reynaldo,” said Aunt Susan, “you’re not too big to give your aunt a hug and a kiss.” Reynaldo smiled and went to her.

  “How was school this year?” Aunt Susan asked him.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” said Mommy sharply. She shook her head as she frowned at Reynaldo. “Is getting out of your chair okay? Is taking candy from someone’s coat pocket okay?”

  “No, Mommy,” said Reynaldo.

  “He wants to be a good boy,” said Aunt Susan. “Tell Mommy you’ll be a good boy at school next year.”

  “I’ll be a good boy, Mommy.”

  “Yeah,” said Mommy. “That’s what you say.”

  Aunt Susan got to her feet. Mommy turned on the TV to Power Rangers. Reynaldo’s eyes immediately locked onto the screen. A moment later Mommy was jabbing her finger roughly into Reynaldo’s back. “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “No, Mommy. Sorry, Mommy.”

  “I said, ‘Don’t fight with Christine.’”

  “Okay, Mommy.” Reynaldo was suddenly filled with love for Mommy. She hadn’t hit him, despite being angry with him, and she was letting him watch Power Rangers. “I love you, Mommy,” he said as she turned away.

  The kitchen door closed and Reynaldo watched the drama unfold on the TV screen. Christine sat beside him, her Barbie on her lap. The Power Rangers fought off an attack by the putty men. The action stopped for a commercial and Reynaldo turned to look at the closed kitchen door. He could barely hear their voices, but he knew they were talking about him. He didn’t care though. He wasn’t sitting at his desk writing down definitions. And Power Rangers was on, his favorite show. But soon Aunt Susan would leave. The realization made him sad again. He wished he could leave with her. What if Mommy gave him to Aunt Susan to take home? He imagined himself happily and hurriedly packing his suitcase before Mommy changed her mind. Then he would say goodbye to Mommy and Christine, and take Aunt Susan’s hand and leave. He wondered if Aunt Susan had any toys at her house. He could take some of his. But what about Daddy? He would miss Daddy. Aunt Susan would let him call Daddy though. He was sure of that. She was nice. And Daddy would come and visit. He really would.

  The Power Rangers came back on and Reynaldo watched in awe as the Rangers simply disappeared when the number of putty men surrounding them became too many to fight. Reynaldo thought about how wonderful it would be to be able to do that. He could disappear whenever Mommy got really mad at him.

  For a week Allen had gone about his business, worrying about Tina’s ultimatum. He didn’t know if Susan had come over to talk to Tina or not. And he didn’t want to badger her about it. At work, he threw himself into his tasks, dreading the free times when worry over the looming threat would fill him. Would she really do it? And if she did call them to come and get Reynaldo, would they? Could they? What about him? What were his rights in all of this? At work he’d been checking his in-basket every time he got up from his desk. When was the God-damned lawyer going to respond? Maybe his case really was hopeless and she wasn’t interested?

  Friday came and during the drive home, Allen wondered what he’d find when he got there. As he let himself into the house he immediately knew something was different, but what? It was quiet; the TV was off. He guessed that they were all in the back of the house. He went into the kitchen and noticed little faint squares and rectangles of white where their pictures had hung. Every photo with either him or Reynaldo or both of them in it, had been purged. Only a couple of pictures of Tina and Christine remained. With a sense of dread he went quickly into Reynaldo’s room. Relief flooded through him when he found Reynaldo at his desk, working on his definitions. Allen decided to call Susan later and thank her.

  Tina walked by in the corridor. Allen heard her go in the kitchen. He turned to Reynaldo. “There’s my boy. . . working hard!”

  “I love you, Daddy,” Reynaldo said.

  “Love you too, Reynaldo,” he said.

  Allen went into the kitchen. Tina busied herself at the sink, not turning around to acknowledge him.

  “You took down our pictures,” he said.

  Tina didn’t answer as she continued to rinse some vegetables in a colander under the faucet. She set them on the counter and turned to him. “From now on you will take care of him. You will bathe him, do his laundry, take him to school, feed him; you will have to do everything.”

  “How can I do all that and get to work on time? You know how early I have to leave.”

  “That’s not my problem. Tonight is the last night I cook for the two of you. Dinner will be ready in a half hour. You set his place.” She turned away.

  Allen shook his head in disbelief and left the kitchen. Christine had come out of her room and now played with her Barbies on the couch. He sat down next to her.

  “Hi, Daddy,” said Christine.

  “Hi, Christine.”

  Allen heard the toilet flush. A moment later Reynaldo was standing in the hallway looking at them.

  “Hi, Reynaldo,” said Allen.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  The kitchen door began to open and Reynaldo ran back into his room as quiet and swift as a mouse.

  Tina was busy with something in the back of the house. Allen’s head hurt. One crisis had passed. Susan had evidently talked to her. But things were still not right. Things were still crazy. He wondered if they would be that way forever. Things had to change, had to get better, didn’t they? Jesus Christ! They needed help in this family.
Joel was dead. Talk about a door slammed in your face. There would be no help from that quarter. Where is my guru? My priest? My rabbi? Who do I have to help me with this? The lawyer had never bothered to respond. Why? What the hell should I do? If I take Reynaldo and leave I’ll lose my daughter for sure. The courts will leave her with her mother. If I let Tina send Reynaldo back into the adoption system, there’ll be a scandal for sure; these things just didn’t happen. Who can I talk to about this? No one! The image of Lou came to Allen and he sighed. “Yeah,” he said aloud, “right!” Close-mouthed Lou the bartender, what a joke! You could hardly get three words out of the guy. But the more Allen thought about it the more he realized that McCoy’s had become the only place he could go. He could go there and, while he would find no answers, at least he would have warmth, relative peace, comfort from the booze, and maybe, just maybe, a little conversation. It was all he had at the moment.

  “Daddy!” Christine demanded, breaking into Allen’s thoughts. “You’re not helping me.”

  Christine held up her Barbie doll, its long skinny legs bent at odd angles. Allen helped her dress her Barbie. He then set a place in the kitchen for Reynaldo and went out the front door to water the lawn. He put some chemical fertilizer into the lawn feeder and ran it across the lawn. Nick, his neighbor from across the street, was trimming his hedges with a pair of electric shears. Nick waved and turned the shears off. “How’s the family?” he called over.

  Allen cringed, but said, “Fine.” He forced himself to smile and nod his head. What the hell could he say? He continued pushing the spreader back and forth. He looked at the sky. Soon the days would grow shorter and the rains come. The thought of thick grey woolen clouds overhead, muted daylight, short days, long nights, was strangely soothing. And he would no longer need to water the damn lawn.