“Just felt the need to talk to you, Carlton. No ulterior motives. It's just that … Actually, you need to know something. Are you busy?”
“Nothing that can't wait. You got a problem?” Carlton seldom, if ever, got calls from Jason.
Jason was having second thoughts about telling Carlton about their grandmother's cancer over the phone. Perhaps they should be face to face when this news was given. Some seconds elapsed.
“No, not a problem. It can wait. I was just thinking about you, me, Grandma Myrena, family stuff. There are times when I feel we don't talk enough and often enough. Call it a temporary case of familial regret, a need, I suppose, to get closer if we can. Am I making any sense?”
Carlton knitted his brow, suspecting the real reason for his call. “Not much, I'm afraid. You want to get closer to me? Is that what you said?”
“Well, yeah. Does that sound so stupid?”
“Not so stupid as fatuous. What has brought you to this touching moment, Jason? Have you had a talk with Jenny? Is that what this is all about?”
Jason suddenly felt anger building, perplexed and unamused by Carlton's playful queries. “What the hell does Jenny have to do with this or with anything that you and I talk about?” Jason was struck with a premonition, a feeling that he really did not want to know what his brother's retort would be.
“Then you haven't talked to Jenny?”
“Christ, Carlton, I call to have a friendly chat, a family-connected conversation, and you want to play mind games. You talk about 'fatuous.' If you've got something to say to me, will you just please say it?” Jason sighed heavily into the phone.
“Jason, you're much too tense, too uptight. You really need to visit a massage parlor and have some of those knots in your muscles loosened up. We don't want you breaking down on us, now do we?” There was an audible snicker on the line.
“You're a real ass, Carlton. There is just no reaching you. I'm sorry I called. You are a ...”
Jason was interrupted. “Jenny didn't tell you about our luncheon date? I thought perhaps she had and that you might be calling to do damage assessment. It was all quite innocent, I assure you. No need to get your jealous hackles up.” Carlton was thoroughly enjoying his little performance.
“I won't indulge you and I won't slam the phone down to give you some weird anal-minded satisfaction. I'll just say, goodbye. Goodbye, Carlton, I won't be bothering you again.” Jason quietly put the phone back in its cradle.
Jason sat unmoving at his desk for long moments, his mind in some sort of static numbness. Slowly he began to mentally unwind. Carlton could always create a mental stasis for Jason. Why did he let his brother get to him that way? Rather simple answer, really. 'Because I ask for it,' he thought. 'Never, never, Stupid, do you try to warm up to Carlton. It is a fool's errand. Accept the fact that you can never ever really have a meaningful sibling relationship. It is impossible. Get yourself beamed up to reality, Jason. Carlton is truly a 'mission impossible.' Childhood closeness would apparently not duplicate in the adult world.
Why had Carlton inserted Jenny into his mind games? Had he said they were together for a lunch date? A date? Jenny and Carlton? It did not seem at all plausible to Jason that Jenny would accept any kind of date with Carlton.
But, wait! Why would he think it implausible that Jenny would accept a date with Carlton? After all, he did not serve as her gatekeeper. She was free to do what she wanted. They certainly had made no commitments to each other.
No. She would not. Jenny simply would not. Surely he could not have misread their relationship up to this point. They had developed rather nicely. They were becoming … Becoming what? Close. Very close. They were becoming very close. She would not accept a date with his brother. In fact, he had let her know that Carlton and he were not very compatible. The final word: she would not date him.
Yet, it was not the final word. He found his mind coming back to Carlton and Jenny all through the afternoon. Jason did not like it, the mind thing, did not like thinking this way. It made him feel weak, out of control, less than what he was.
Was he jealous? He did not believe so, yet this mind behavior could be deduced as such. The thought itself was upsetting, that Jenny would date his brother. The fact of her dating him could destroy his image of her, and he trusted his image. Did he not? Yes, resoundingly. It was not a fact. It was only a mind game invented to taunt, to sneer, to frustrate and upset.
There was an easy way to close the book on Carlton's mind game. Jason could call Jenny. But, wait. That only dignifies and gives credence to his brother's mind game. Jason did not wish to do that.
He was getting irritated with himself. It was crazy to let these thoughts get into his head. These thoughts were only keeping him from his important work. He had dignity. He had the ability to reason. Why was he dwelling on Carlton's words? This was not Jason's way.
The office music system was playing a lovely classical guitar piece which Jason loved, but, today, it only added to his frustrations. He was troubled by the fact he could not let go of Carlton's remarks. It infuriated him all the more to acknowledge that this would be the behavior Carlton had intended.
“Dammit! Get off it, Jason,” he yelled at himself.
The larger truth was more likely that Jason had fallen in love with Jenny Mason. The thought that she might have had a lunch date with Carlton brought him pain. What hurt as well was knowing that his brother would have known precisely these reactions would come. Jason could picture Carlton with a smile of immense satisfaction.
Jason could not be wrong about Jenny and the relationship that was building between them. There was a special quality to their being together. Jenny had indicated as much in so many ways. Jason was convinced that they were in love. Two people did not act and react the way they had and not be in love. So, why was he going through all these stupid mind mazes?
He could not be wrong about Carlton, either. Carlton was a cynical, uncaring jerk, simply trying to muddy the waters, trying to cause friction. That was who he was, a man who could only function on a subterranean level when it came to interacting with people. There was something fundamentally missing from Carlton's character. Yet, Jason found it difficult to believe that Carlton would have mentioned 'lunch' specifically if there was no lunch. Usually, at least, Carlton's mind games did have some basis in fact.
Finally, Jason felt a surge of impatience and a deeper ire rise within him. He slammed his open right palm hard against the top of his desk. The loud sound reverberated along the walls and within his mind, and he stood at his desk, mildly shocked by his outburst.
The door opened to Jason's office: “Are you okay, Jason?” Nora wore a worried expression on her face.
Jason looked at Nora for a second before replying, feeling awkward and silly. “Yes, yes, I'm fine, Nora. Just a little accident. No harm done.”
They stood, staring at each other, until each felt the discomfort of the moment. Nora was like family, having been with Jason for so long, and she felt that something was bothering her boss. She knew him well enough that she should not be nosy so she smiled weakly, softly retreated and closed the door. She returned to her own desk in the empty reception area.
Nora sat, mildly perplexed by the behavior of her boss. He had seemed embarrassed and confused, totally out of character. “With a shrug she went back to work. Jason would let her know if he felt it was information she should have.
The telephone rang.
“Good afternoon, Prince, Limited,” Nora cheerfully announced.
“Hi, Nora, this is Myrena. Is my grandson busy at the moment?”
“I'm sure he has time for you, Mrs. Wimsley. Please hold for just a moment.” Nora tapped a couple of buttons on her phone, spoke to Jason, and made the connection.
“Hi, Grandma, what's up?” Jason tried to sound more pleasant than he was actually feeling. As an afterthought, he quickly added, “And you're not interrupting any meetings. I'm all yours.”
“You anticipa
te my question before I ask it. Am I all that predictable, Jay-boy?” She used the pet name for him that she had coined more than twenty years ago.
“You? Predictable? Grandma, you are surely the most delightfully unpredictable woman I've ever known. I just wanted to put you at ease. You at times act as though my time is so precious.”
“So, then, I am predictable, after all.?” She chuckled.
“No, just sweetly cautious. Are you okay?” He tried for nonchalance.
“Oh, sure, I'm fine. I just wanted to see if you could stop by after work one day soon and visit with me. There are some things I would like to discuss with you in private. Nothing terribly important, really, just some things you might help me with.”
“Is today too soon?”
“Why, no, of course not, but I don't want you altering any plans on my behalf.”
“I'm not, Grandma. There are no plans on my social calendar for this evening. I'll be by in roughly an hour. Is that too soon?”
“No, it's good. I'll have Wardley set another place for dinner.”
When the call from Grandma Wimsley ended Jason started to dial Jenny. Before he touched the last digit of her number, he decided against it.
He felt unsettled, a result of the telephone byplay with Carlton. His brother had gotten to him again.
*****
Carlton was at his desk, feeling not as good as he had expected to feel.
Normally, Carlton's gibes at Jason's expense gave him some sort of idiotic pleasure, a nebulous feeling of victory. Today, however, after they had disconnected, Carlton felt more uneasy than he felt victorious. He must be getting old, mellowing to some degree, for he was feeling something akin to sympathy for Jason. This was not in keeping with his character. He liked Jason on the defensive, liked to see him squirm and become angry. After all, what were brothers for? That was Carlton's way for so many years now. He couldn't change his modus operandi at this stage in his life. Hell, it was too much fun to get Jason's goat.
Still, there was an alien moodiness within him. It must have been something Jason had said, something that did not punch into his consciousness until their phone call ended. It was Jason's comment about getting 'closer.' That comment had brought back some memories which saddened Carlton. He was reminded of the fun times, the 'close' times, they would have up at the Bartlett Dam area; playing their cowboy kid games; just hiding and discovering all the different kinds of rocks and snakes; talking under the stars at night in their tents, all snug and comfy in their sleeping bags.
So? So, maybe he should knock off all the crap he was giving Jason. Maybe he should make an attempt at getting closer. Maybe.
Oh, come on Carlton, get off this maudlin stuff, he thought, it's too much fun the way it is. Don't change now. That syrupy crapola you're thinking is for little Dick and Jane and the happy moms and pops. You have spent your life up to now developing your sharp tongue and immoral attitude. You can't change. Who would know you? Besides, you like playing the bad guy role. You've been playing it since mom and dad left without saying goodbye. You got the attention, too, for a while. Then you just stayed where you were with it. You didn't want to go back to where you were. No, you did it the only way that was open to you. Jason had set his course as the good grandson. There could not be two kids going in the same direction, That would be too 'Beaver' and 'Wally' Cleaver. Right? Right.
The main thing: it was too much fun, the 'bad guy' way. Carlton needed to stay in the role he was playing. It fitted him. And, Jenny, well, he couldn't forget Jenny. Yeah, the pretty lady. He had to compete for Jenny. Jason needed the competition.
Still, with all the thoughts, there was a gray cloud hovering over Carlton Prince's day. He tried calling Sheila but there was no answer. He started to dial his grandmother's number, thought better of it, and put the phone back in its cradle. He sat for a long time staring out his large office window at the drab industrial buildings all around him.
“Christ!” he said aloud, “I've got to get out of here.”
Chapter Fourteen
The beautiful old house seemed musty and somehow foreign to Jason this evening. An intensely quiet aura hung in the air like a palpable funereal presence. A discernible medicinal aroma emanated seemingly from the walls, much like the smell in a hospital corridor. Even Wardley appeared subdued and solemn, warmly civil yet somehow robotic and detached. A distant and surreal quality lay siege to the once happy fortress of his youth, and he felt an odd out of body sensation as he followed Wardley to the day room.
In the day room, where light suffused in great folds from the large plate glass windows, a benign Myrena Wimsley sat in an old leather chair that was around as long as Jason could remember. The late western sun brought back a semblance of reality and substance to Jason. He rushed to Myrena's side, knelt, gently brushed her smiling lips with his own, and stared lovingly into her tired eyes.
For a fleeting moment he was transported back to another time in this happy room, when he had stood before his proud Grandma Myrena in his white and gold band conductor's suit, the tall braided, cylindrical hat slightly tilted on his head. He had just returned from a glorious afternoon at school where he led his elementary school band in a short recital of sorts, his Grandma Myrena beaming in the front row of the small auditorium. After the musical fare she had taken him to a photographer's studio for a portrait shoot, then on for ice cream and apple pie. She was so proud of him, and he knew no moments so thrilling and so fulfilling as those on that long ago afternoon.
Now he looked along the wall shelving and saw that same 11'' X 15'' portrait of years past, there among other pictures and memorabilia. The young boy with a smiling face in the gilded frame, he remembered, was slightly embarrassed and a bit uncomfortable by the strap on that tall conductor's hat. A wistful wave came over him.
Then, his Grandma Myrena's voice brought him back to the present. “That was such a happy occasion, Jay-boy.” She could read his thoughts. ”I remember that time like it was yesterday. You loved music so much, and I suspected then that you might actually have some sort of musical career. Your love of building project models competed with your love of music and ultimately won out. You seem sell suited to that choice, contented and happy with it as well. Am I right?” She gave his hand a tender squeeze and gently pulled him toward the facing chair.
“Yes, you're right, Grandma, but I have them both, really. The music is a constant in my life.” He smiled as he thought of something. “There are times when I'm listening to Respighi, Vivaldi, or Mozart and I have this itch to conduct. There are times when my hands and arms are going through the motions in silly pantomime, until my private blush stops me.”
“Sweet, dear Jason, these old bones can still find ways back to childhood. I'm convinced we never completely say goodbye to childhood. There's a kid in all of us. Truth be known, it would be good to let that kid out at times, to accept those little people inside of us. It might be unwise and unfair not to recognize all parts of our being, even those little dark areas. Accept all of yourself, Jay-boy. You need not fear your dark areas. They are far outweighed by your goodness. It always shines through.” Myrena became momentarily distracted. “There are others, however, who might not benefit themselves or others by accepting all of their parts.” She regained herself. “Listen to me. It's much too late for me to be playing amateur philosopher.”
“You're a wise lady, Grandma. Your good advice has never led me astray.”
Wardley brought cocktails and lingered for a while to chat about the mundane and the weather. He discreetly left when he sensed he should.
The sun painted the western sky with a pink profusion. A gnarled old tree some hundred yards away placed its dark silhouette against the western backdrop and produced a scene reminiscent of the plains of Africa and Safari. A scene from a forgotten movie with Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner moved vaguely across Jason's mind.
They lounged in easy silence, lost briefly in the lovely montage outside the day room windows. Jaso
n remembered his ride with Jenny to the site of 'Apple Brown Betty,' her observations on the distant mountains, her passionate need to be a part of it. He thought that he understood what she was saying, looking now at the pristine tableau off the far horizon. It was a moment of incredible beauty and mystic longing, a primal thing. Jason was in this room thousands of times and he felt now that it was the very first time. He glanced at Grandma Myrena and felt an overwhelming surge of filial love. He raised himself from his chair, knelt again on the soft carpet by her side, and kissed her gently on the cheek.
“Thank you, Grandma Myrena. Thank you for all of this.” Tears were about to come, and he fought the rising agony of his soul. She was dying. He could see it in her glazed and weakened eyes, along the web lines of her weathered face, and there was nothing that he could do about it.
Myrena touched his hand and turned from the western sky to face him with a loving smile. She thought that she saw watery eyes, a sad smile, but he moved too quickly for her to be sure. He sat again on the facing chair.
“You thank me for something that was so easy for me to give. You have always been an easy grandson to love. You were, you are, as that sunset is to me: a joy forever.” She sensed a failing will, a loss of composure, and fought it away. “But you surely know all that, Jay-boy.” She gave him her strong matriarchal smile. “You must be wondering why I have summoned you.”
She sipped lightly from her highball glass and continued.
“I wrestled long and hard with myself about how to tell you certain things: did you really need to know? What kind of reaction would you have in my telling you? So, obviously, I've decided to tell you. Why I'm telling you is a bit slippery for me. I tell myself that it's because you need to know and should know. I'm leaving the 'why' at that, although I'm sure there's more to it.”
Jason sat, eyes riveted to Myrena, fearing what was about to come.
She continued. “There is no easy way to tell you except in my direct fashion. So, here goes.”
Phoenix Fire Page 9
