“Really?” Gia’s brow furrowed as she glanced at Jack. “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
Tom laughed. “We don’t know!”
“Can I see it?”
A buzz of alarm surged through Jack.
“That may not be such a good idea.”
Gia looked at him. “Why not?”
What was he going to say? He had no rational explanation.
“Because of what Tom said: We don’t know what it is.”
“Oh, come on,” Tom said with a patronizing laugh. “It’s a basketball-sized lump that’s been underwater for four hundred years. How harmful could it possibly be?”
Jack wished he had an answer.
Tom waved everyone toward the TV room. “Come on, let’s have a look,” he said, then led the way.
Jack reluctantly followed, bringing up the rear behind Gia and Vicky. Tom seemed to have taken over.
In the TV room Tom lifted the chest off the floor and onto the bed. He opened the lid and made a grandiose gesture.
“Voila!”
Gia and Vicky were suitably unimpressed.
“Can I ask a question?” Gia said.
Tom grinned. “But of course, my dear.”
“Why would you bother to bring this home? It looks like some ugly, oversized melon.”
“It does, indeed, but I want to find out what it is. The quest for knowledge—what human urge is more noble?”
How about the urge to retch? Jack thought.
“Look, Mom!” Vicky was laughing and pointing at the dimple in the Lilitongue’s surface. “It’s got a belly button!”
“What a marvelous observation!” Tom said. “You really have an eye for detail!”
Gia said, “So now that you have it, what do you do with it?”
Jack started to say that was going to be Tom’s problem, but his brother jumped in.
“Research! I’m sure we can find someone in this city who can shed some light on its identity.”
It took a few seconds for the import of “in this city” to penetrate, but when it did…
“Whoa-whoa-whoa! What happened to Philadelphia—the Franklin Institute, the U of P…?”
Tom put on a sheepish, aw-shucks grin. “I was going to discuss this with you this morning, bro, but didn’t get a chance before our lovely guests arrived. I’ve been thinking that maybe New York has more resources with the potential of shedding light on our objet mystérieux here, and was going to ask if I might stay over a few days to pursue an answer.”
Gia frowned. “But what about Terry? You’ve been away for almost a week.”
“I spoke to her yesterday morning and she’s perfectly fine with it. She knows how much it means to me.” He looked at Jack with puppy-dog eyes. “So whatta ya say, bro? Put up with me for a few more days?”
Jack caught a look from Gia that said, You’re not going to kick out your own brother, are you?
No question why Tom brought this up in front of her.
Gia and Vicky’s presence, plus the certain knowledge that Dad would have wanted Jack to cut him some slack, kept him from grabbing Tom by the throat and tossing him through a window.
Bastard.
* * *
3
Jack helped Gia and Vicky clear the dishes while Tom read the paper.
“I can see it now,” Jack whispered while they were in the kitchen. “I’ll never get rid of him. He’ll be the man who came to dinner. I’ve got to find him a hotel.”
She said, “You and he are the only ones left in your family. You should find a way to get along.”
Jack nodded—not because he agreed, but because he didn’t want to get into a discussion about this. At least not now.
Gia was right in theory, but he saw no way the two of them would ever have much in common.
“Hey!” Tom called from the table. “The Merry Widow is at the Met tonight!”
“Really?” Gia gravitated toward the front room. “That’s one of my favorites.”
“And Noelle Roberts is playing Hanna.”
“I saw her as Mimi in La Bohéme last year. She’s wonderful.”
Jack followed her in, snapping his fingers. “La Bohéme… La Bohéme… is that the one where somebody dies at the end?”
Gia laughed. “Someone almost always dies at the end of an opera. And you know that.”
Tom slammed his hand on the table. “Let’s go! Let’s all go tonight!”
Listen to him, Jack thought. The feds are after him and he wants to go to the opera.
Of course, that was probably the last place they’d look for him.
“I’d love to,” Gia said, “but I can’t get a sitter on such short notice.”
“Bring Vicky along. My treat.”
Listen to Mr. Big Spender.
Gia shook her head. “No, she wouldn’t like it. She’s fine at the ballet where it’s all music and movement, but at an opera… she’d be asking me every two minutes what they’re saying. That wouldn’t be fair to the people around us.”
Jack looked at Gia. “You really want to go?”
“I’d love to see Noelle Roberts again.”
“Then go. I’ll take care of Vicky.”
She smiled that smile. “Would you really? You don’t mind?”
He knew Tom had the hots for her, but this was Gia. She wasn’t a tease, didn’t play games. It would be a friendly date. And she’d get to see her Noelle Roberts.
Jack put a finger to his chin and struck a pose of deep concentration.
“Hmmm… let’s see… comes down to a choice between hanging out with Vicky or going through the auditory equivalent of a root canal without anesthesia… I’d say that’s a no-brainer.”
“Great!” Tom cried. “Then it’s settled. I’ll reserve the tickets and find a place to rent a tuxedo.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Oh, but I do. With such a beautiful woman on my arm, attiring myself in anything less would be not only a breach of manners, but an affront to all of nature.”
Jack closed his eyes. He had to get him out of here.
* * *
4
When Jack returned from hailing Gia and Vicky a cab, he found Tom back at the table, reading the Times.
“Tom?” It took an effort, but he managed to keep from shouting. “The deal was you’d stay one night. What are you pulling here?”
Tom put down the paper. “Self-preservation.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve been found out. Terry says federal marshals have been at the house looking for me. They know I’m gone.”
Jack couldn’t rein in a burst of fury.
“You’ve got feds on your trail? That means when they find you they find me! And if they charge me with harboring a fugitive…”
Jack could see his world going down in flames. The web of secrets that cocooned his identity, his work, his whole damn life would fall apart under federal scrutiny.
“What do you mean, ‘when’ they find me? They won’t. They won’t know where to look. Terry thinks I’m on my way to Bermuda right now, not already back. They’ll be chasing their tails. And as for tracking me here, they don’t even know I’ve got a brother, let alone what city he lives in.”
“But Terry knows.”
He nodded. “Yeah, Terry knows a few things, but nothing of any use. If she rats me out—which she might—she’ll tell them I’ve got a brother named Jack who lives in New York. But unless I’ve misread things, you’re not listed anywhere under your own name, are you.”
Correct.
Jack nodded.
“Thought so. That means in order to find me they’ve got to find you, and since you aren’t findable, ipso facto, neither am I.”
Jack stared at his clueless, bastard brother a long time before responding.
“You know, Tom, I’ve got a great idea. Let’s play a game. It’s called Cain and Abel. You’ll be Abel…”
Tom laughed. “You worry
too much. We’re safe.”
“I want you out of here. Today.”
“And what? Feed me to the wolves? If I register anywhere I’ll be found. Look, as soon as your pal Ernie has my new identity I’ll be gone, out of your life for good. But until then, I need a hiding place. So you’ve got to let me stay, bro.”
“Cool it with the ‘bro’ bit, okay? It suits you like a Kangol cap.”
Tom frowned. “Kangol?”
“There—you’ve made my point.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Just put me up till Ernie delivers. Is that asking so much?”
Jack hated this, but didn’t see a way out. “Okay. But when Ernie delivers, you go.”
He grinned. “Deal! Oh, one more thing. Promise me you won’t mention my troubles to Gia, okay? I’d rather she didn’t know.”
“She already knows you’ve got legal problems.”
Tom’s face fell. “Oh hell.”
“I didn’t go into detail—she didn’t want me to—but if she asks, I’ll tell her what she wants to know. No holding back.”
Jack’s holding back the truth had once nearly destroyed their relationship just as it was beginning.
“Fair enough, I guess. I hope she doesn’t ask. And by the way, thanks for volunteering to sit for Vicky tonight. I think Gia’s going to have a really good time.”
“And you? You’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart, I suppose.”
Tom laughed. “You ought to know me better than that by now. Just as I’m sure you know I’m crazy about your woman.”
“Hardly a great intuitive leap. But I don’t think of her as my woman. I don’t think Gia is anybody’s woman. She’s just Gia.”
“Well, she is carrying your child. Which leads to a question that’s been bugging me.” Tom waved his hands before him. “Now, it’s not my intention to offend, but I’ve got to ask: What the hell does a bright, beautiful woman like Gia see in you?”
Jack had to smile. “Damned if I know.”
He’d come to realize that it’s often better not to probe too deeply into these things, but he’d decided that they were good together because of the way they complemented each other. Yin and yang.
Gia was strictly above ground, the product of a Catholic family in the Midwest, a believer in motherhood and apple pie. Jack lived underground, in a separate world, a mirror image of Gia’s.
But somehow they’d found each other, somehow they’d bonded. And soon their child would be born.
The turmoil that prospect was causing in Jack’s life had been swallowed up by his father’s death. But it hadn’t gone away. It remained a ticking bomb, with a timer set for March—three months away!
In order to be the child’s legal father, to claim her should anything happen to Gia, Jack had to establish an above-ground identity, one that would sidestep the questions of where he’d been for the past fifteen years and why he hadn’t paid a cent of taxes during all that time.
Ernie could help a guy live below the radar, but what Jack needed was out of his league.
So Abe was working on it, but progress was slow. The Holgate glacier moved at a brisker pace.
Half a year ago Jack had foreseen none of this. Hell, a year and a half ago he’d seen no hope that he and Gia would ever be together.
They’d been on the outs then—way out. Jack realized with a start that he and Gia most likely would still be on the outs if a mad Hindu named Kusum hadn’t come to town to keep a century-and-a-half-old vow of vengeance. He’d brought them back together and they hadn’t been apart since.
Tom said, “All right then, answer me this: Why aren’t you two living together?”
“None of your beeswax.”
Tom jabbed a finger at him. “No, No, Nanette, right?”
Jack didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen No, No, Nanette. And didn’t plan to.
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Time to call Ernie. Tell him he needed a rush job on Tom’s new identity.
* * *
5
“Keep to the left there, Vicks. See that doorway? Head for it.”
Jack hovered over Vicky’s shoulder as she navigated the future noir world of DNA Wars. The PlayStation version had come out about six months ago. At nine she was still a bit young and inexperienced to make it through the video game on her own. Jack had fought through to the end where he’d unlocked all the secret codes, including the special gene splices. So he’d entered them for Vicky, allowing her to play in “god mode”—immortal, omnipotent, with the game’s entire array of mDNA templates and weapons at her command.
He slid to the side so he could see her face, watch the images from the big TV screen reflecting in her eyes, revel in her look of fascinated concentration. She was completely into it.
Since Jack’s apartment and Lincoln Center were both on the Upper West Side, and since Jack had the big TV and all the cool video games, Gia had decided it would be easier to drop Vicky here. Her Christmas break had begun, so no school tomorrow.
The black dress Gia had worn was snug around the waist, but she looked dazzling anyway. And who’d notice her swelling belly next to Tom? His dwarfed hers. The rented tux made him look like Opus the penguin on his way to an Overeaters Anonymous banquet.
So Jack and Vicky had parked themselves on the edge of the bed in the TV room—Tom’s bedroom now but not for much longer. The sixty-inch screen stretched the game’s pixels, but made the gameplay intensely immersive.
Before Vicky’s arrival Jack had hidden the Lilitongue and its chest in the hall closet. Couldn’t say why, simply didn’t want Vicky in the same room with it.
Keeping her eyes glued on the screen, Vicky said, “How come Mom’s going out with Tom instead of you?”
“Because I don’t like opera and your mother and Tom do. This way your mother gets to see something she likes and I get not to see something I don’t like.”
“I think he likes Mom.”
Jack had to smile. Amazing what kids pick up on.
“I believe he does.”
… demonstrating uncharacteristic good taste.
“Then why did you let her go with him?”
“I didn’t ‘let’ her. Your mother makes her own decisions. I trust her to make good ones, just as she trusts me. What’s the point of a relationship if one person can’t let the other person out of sight?”
She glanced at Jack. “What if he kisses her?” He won’t.
Not if he knows what’s good for him.
“But what if he does?”
“Then we’ll have to count Mom’s teeth.”
“Huh?”
Jack pointed to the screen. “You stuck?”
She nodded, back in the game. “I can’t fit through this door.”
Jack recognized Vicky’s predicament—he’d been here before.
“Switch to a smaller template.”
She hit the pause button instead.
“I gotta go sprinkle.”
Jack took the controller. “I’ll hold the fort.”
“Don’t play while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try… not to…” Jack said in a strained voice. His hand trembled over the toggles, moving closer, then pulling away. “Won’t… be… easy… better hurry…”
Vicky ran from the room.
Jack smiled. God, he loved that kid.
And soon he’d have his own.
Now there was a frightening thought. A tiny baby, fragile, helpless, totally dependent. He shuddered. Facing a raging, three-hundred-pound, knife-wielding drunk would be less intimidating.
* * *
-83:00
A cry from Vicky shattered Jack’s reverie.
“Jack! Jack!”
The fear in her voice had him on his feet and almost to the door when she rushed in.
“What’s wrong?”
F Paul Wilson - Secret History 03 Page 24
