by Jason Starr
“You really don’t want any coffee?” Alison had returned with a mugful.
“Yeah, positive,” he said.
“Okay.” She sounded skeptical. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I can’t remember you ever turning down coffee in the morning. It’s not because of what I said yesterday, is it? I mean about how you’ve been so hyper?”
“No,” he said, “I’m just trying to cut back on the caffeine. I think it’s been stressing me out.”
The odor was so bitter, he felt like it was burning his nasal membranes. He couldn’t believe he’d ever actually liked that stuff.
“I’m sorry I got so angry at you at the park yesterday,” she said. “I feel like I acted like a big baby.”
“No, I was the baby,” Simon said. “I shouldn’t’ve left Jeremy up on those rocks. I’ll never do anything like that again. No more stupid risks.”
“What happened to your boss does put things in perspective, doesn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just how your whole life can change in an instant. One second, everything’s perfect. The next moment, your whole life’s ruined.” She finished a sip of coffee, then said, “I don’t know what I’m saying, I think my brain’s still asleep.” She added, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Why?”
“It’s just the way you’re acting. You do seem stressed out.”
He realized he was rotating his shoulders and shifting his neck from side to side, and he stopped and tried to stand perfectly still. “Sorry, it’s just the whole Tom thing, I guess. I just feel bad about the way things had been between us, you know? I mean, I’d been so angry at him and now he’s dead.”
“You can’t feel guilty about stuff like that.”
“It’s not guilt. It’s just a feeling I have of . . . I can’t really explain it. Responsibility. I feel this weird sense of responsibility.”
“Feel sorry for his family, not yourself.” Alison glanced toward the cable box below the TV. “Ugh, look at the time. I can’t believe it’s another workweek already. I feel like the whole weekend just flew by.”
Simon heard Jeremy stirring in bed. “I’ll get Jeremy,” he said.
“Maybe you should let him sleep today,” Alison said. “He’s still getting over being sick.”
“He’s already up.”
“How do you know?”
Simon didn’t know how to answer this. How could he have possibly heard Jeremy shifting in bed from the opposite end of the apartment?
“Mommy!” Jeremy called from his room.
“See?” Simon said.
Simon got Jeremy dressed and made breakfast—French toast and sausage. Simon made the whole package of sausage, as he couldn’t resist another meat fix. He was at the table eating with Jeremy when Alison came out of the bedroom, dressed for work, wearing Juicy Couture perfume. The perfume, combined with the other scents of her shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizing cream, made him feel like he was in the cosmetics department at Bloomingdales.
She must have seen him wincing because she asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said. “The food just, um, went down the wrong pipe.” He sipped from the glass of whole milk.
“Another low-fat meal, huh?” Alison asked.
“I’ll go for a run later to work it off.” Simon looked at Jeremy. “It looks like a nice day; maybe we’ll play some soccer.”
“I want to see my friends again.” Jeremy had that tone he got when he was about to have a fit.
“We can’t see them,” Simon said.
“Why not?”
“I’ll let you handle this,” Alison said to Simon. “Have a great day, you two.”
Simon called the office of Dr. Segal, his general practitioner, and tried to get an appointment for that morning, figuring he could get Christina to babysit.
“Is it an emergency?” the receptionist asked.
“Um, not really,” Simon said. “I just had some strange symptoms I wanted to describe to him.”
“What kind of symptoms?”
“I’ve had a lot of energy and I can hear and smell really well.”
The line was silent. He realized how ridiculous this probably sounded.
“If he could just fit me in, I’d appreciate it,” Simon said. “I think I might be having some kind of reaction to something.”
“The soonest appointment is in two weeks,” the receptionist said.
“He can’t squeeze me in today?”
“I’m sorry, do you want to make an appointment in two weeks?” She sounded a little irritated.
Simon made the appointment, but just talking to the receptionist, describing his symptoms out loud, convinced him that he’d been overreacting and there was probably nothing seriously wrong with him. Serious diseases made you feel worse, not better, and the idea that the symptoms of a brain tumor had happened to emerge on the same day that he woke up in the woods in New Jersey was just ridiculous. The symptoms he was experiencing were obviously side effects of whatever drug the guys had given him that had caused him to pass out that night. That was the simplest explanation and the most logical.
Simon took Jeremy to Central Park’s Great Lawn and kicked a soccer ball around. The physical activity helped Simon’s mood a lot. He could’ve kept playing all day, but after about an hour Jeremy said he was hungry and they took a break for a snack, yogurt and a banana Simon had taken along.
Sitting next to Simon on a park bench, Jeremy said, “You’re the best, most funnest dad in the whole world.” Then he added, “Don’t ever change.”
Simon wasn’t sure what Jeremy meant by that, but he thought the precocious comment was adorable and made a mental note to tell Alison about it later.
“Promise,” Simon said. “I’ll never change.”
Simon felt as if he and Jeremy were bonding, getting so much closer than they’d ever been, which was amazing. Suddenly his decision to become a stay-at-home dad seemed like a great one. As Alison had pointed out, life was precarious and there were no guarantees. He had to savor what was most important, and nothing was more important than spending time with his son.
“What are we going to do now, Daddy?”
It was only about ten o’clock. They could go back to the apartment, have lunch, but then what? He would’ve loved to go back to the park to run around some more, but he didn’t think Jeremy would want to. They could do a playground, but the thought of hanging around with the babysitters all day seemed depressing. They’d just gone to the Museum of Natural History, and besides, it was Monday so the museums were closed.
“How about a movie?” Simon asked.
“I don’t wanna go to a movie.”
Simon didn’t want to go to a movie either. What he wanted to do was see the guys at the playground downtown. Strangely, he didn’t feel the same anger toward them that he had yesterday and the day before. Or at least a strong need to see them again, to get some answers, overrode the other emotions.
“I have an idea,” Simon said. “Let’s go on a mystery ride.”
“What’s that?”
“If I tell you, it won’t be a mystery.”
Beaming, Jeremy shouted, “Yay! Mystery ride!”
Simon had never realized how hellish the New York City subways were. The air was dank and stale and the mingled odors of urine, must, and everyone’s body odors were so obviously vile; how could anyone stand it? And the noise was out of control. Every time the train came to a screeching halt, Simon thought his brain was going to explode.
He was relieved when they arrived at South Ferry, and when they went up the stairs to the sidewalk, Simon, carrying the folded jogging stroller with one hand and holding Jeremy’s hand with the other, felt as if he’d been working in a coal mine all day and was breathing in his first fresh air in hours. Not that the downtown Manhattan air was particularly fresh, but compared to the subway, it was like being in the Alps.
Simon put Jeremy in the stroller, and they ente
red Battery Park at State Street. Jeremy had caught on that he was going to see his friends, and he was very excited.
“Are we there yet?” he asked impatiently as Simon pushed him along.
“Almost,” Simon said.
“I wanna get out,” Jeremy said, fidgeting.
“I have a better idea,” Simon said, and he ran, pushing the stroller ahead of him. They veered onto the promenade alongside the river. He didn’t realize how fast he was going until he saw that he was passing bikers. He slowed down and peeked in the stroller to see if he’d scared Jeremy, but Jeremy was grinning, having a blast.
The playground was up ahead. Simon didn’t see the guys there, and he wondered if they’d changed their plans for some reason. Maybe one of them had a conflict and they were meeting up later today, or not at all. Well, Jeremy could still play, but Simon felt let down. He’d really psyched himself up about getting some answers.
But, wait, they were there. Simon didn’t see them, but he heard Ramon talking, even though he had to be, what, a hundred yards away? There was a lot of other noise too—kids screaming, adults’ conversations, birds chirping, waves on the river crashing against the docks. It was amazing how noisy even a trafficless part of the city was when you were paying attention, and somehow Simon was attuned to even the most subtle sounds without consciously trying.
They got closer and Simon still didn’t see the guys—though he could swear he heard Ramon laughing—and then Jeremy, pointing straight ahead, shouted, “There’s Diego! And there’s Nicky.”
Sure enough, the guys’ kids were there, playing in the sandbox, and in front of the sandbox—not toward the back of the playground where they usually hung out—were Michael, Charlie, and Ramon. They didn’t see Simon and Jeremy yet, though; or, if they did, they were playing it incredibly cool, continuing their conversation, talking about—shock and awe—steak. Ramon was describing how he’d made sirloin steaks the other night when he had a date over to his apartment for dinner. The steak talk did give Simon a serious craving, but he tried to ignore it.
Jeremy, wiggling excitedly in the stroller, said, “I want to get out, I want to get out.”
Inside the playground, Simon unfastened the straps, and Jeremy darted to the sandbox and started playing with his friends. Then Simon looked at the guys, and they noticed him for the first time. Simon, holding his ground, tried not to show any fear. He didn’t want to give the guys the satisfaction of feeling like they’d succeeded in humiliating him. He expected them to be surprised to see him, or to ignore him, or to have some sort of strong reaction. The last thing he expected was for them to be happy to see him.
“Hey, there’s the man,” Ramon said, grinning. He jogged over and gave him a big warm hug.
Then Charlie came over and said, “Brother, how’s it goin’?” and hugged him too.
Finally it was Michael’s turn. He looked directly at Simon’s eyes, holding his gaze for several seconds, then said, “Welcome back to us,” and hugged him extremely tightly for maybe ten seconds before letting go.
Simon wondered, was this part of the game? Were they trying to act normal, like nothing had happened Friday night, just for more kicks, for another round of the Humiliate Simon Burns game?
“Come on, sit down,” Charlie said, acting like Mr. Nice Guy.
“Yeah, chill with us,” Ramon said. His big gold cross was hanging over his chest, over his tight black long-sleeved V-neck shirt.
It was clear to Simon that these guys were seriously disturbed, maybe even insane, but he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of leaving. That was exactly what they wanted—for him to run—so why give them what they wanted? So, instead he did the opposite of what they actually wanted and joined them on the bench. Yeah, that was the way to stay in control.
“So how was your weekend, man?” Charlie asked.
Simon looked at him, searching for a hint of sarcasm, but Charlie wasn’t cracking. Okay, if this was the way they wanted to play it, then this was the way they’d play it.
“Pretty good,” he said. “How was yours?”
“Eh, not bad,” Charlie said. “My ex had Nicky, so I was on my own. I watched a movie with my girlfriend on Saturday night. Yesterday we just stayed in all day too.”
“Makin’ love, right?” Ramon said smiling, egging Charlie on.
“Yeah, a little of that too,” Charlie said. “You know how it is.”
Charlie and Ramon high-fived.
“How about you, Michael?” Simon asked, looking right at him, wanting him to see how fearless he was.
“I had a lot of sex too,” Michael said.
“Yeah, Michael has a new lady, but he didn’t show her off to us yet. He didn’t even tell us her name.”
“Maybe she’s the one,” Charlie said.
“Yeah, watch out, soon he’ll stop hanging out with us,” Ramon said. “He’ll be like, ‘I’m too busy for you guys, have fun on your own.’ ”
Ramon and Charlie laughed, but Michael stayed serious.
“You know I’ll never leave you,” Michael said. “We’ll be together forever.”
“Aw, man, you know I’m just playin’ with you,” Ramon said, putting an arm around Michael.
“What about you?” Charlie asked Simon.
“What about me what?” Simon asked.
“You do anything exciting this weekend?”
Simon thought, Is he serious?
“No, not really,” Simon said. “Spent a lot of time with my family.”
“That’s cool,” Ramon said.
“Yeah,” Simon said, “it was cool. We went to the museum yesterday, the park, walked around. I spent time with them Saturday too, I mean after I came back from New Jersey.”
He thought this would definitely get a reaction—one of them would flinch at least. But nope, they were all acting perfectly normal.
There was a long pause, and then Ramon asked, “So what were you doing out in Jersey?”
Was it possible he really didn’t know?
“Nothing much,” Simon said. “Just hanging out . . . at a friend’s.”
“Cool,” Ramon said. Then he shouted toward the sandbox, “Hey, Diego, you gotta share the shovel with him. Let him have his turn. That’s right.” Then he looked back at Simon and said, “A friend’s, huh? Yeah, I was seeing a woman in Princeton for a while. Stunningly beautiful. Long dark hair, like Cleopatra.”
Ramon went on, praising his ex-lover, and then Charlie changed the subject and said something about how well the kids played together, and Michael chimed in, commenting about how it was “like they’re brothers.”
Then Simon interrupted whatever Ramon was saying and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”
The guys looked at Simon, waiting for him to continue.
Finally Simon asked, “Aren’t you guys surprised to see me here today?”
“Why would we be surprised?” Charlie said. “It’s Monday and you said you’d come on Monday.”
“When did I say that?”
“When you left the brewery Friday night?”
Ramon and Charlie seemed confused. Michael was looking away, smiling at something his son was doing.
“What’s the matter, man?” Ramon asked. “What’s going on?”
“Okay, look,” Simon said. “That’s enough. I know what happened, okay?”
Now Michael was looking over, but it was so hard to read him. Was he surprised? Angry? Intrigued? All of the above? Simon had never met anyone quite like this guy.
“What happened with what?” Charlie asked.
Either these guys were the greatest actors in the world or they were total lying psychopaths. There was no middle ground.
“The other night,” Simon said. “There was something in that beer. Or maybe it was the steak, I don’t know, but you did something to me. You drugged me and you dumped me in the woods in New Jersey, and I just want to know why you did it. I mean, was it a big joke for you guys? Is this what you do to get off? Meet so
me guy at the playground, invite him out, and then try to totally humiliate him?”
Simon was so emotional as he was speaking that he wasn’t aware of the guys’ reactions. Now he noticed that they didn’t seem to have any reaction at all. They were staring at him, blank-faced. Even Michael seemed believably baffled.
Then Charlie said, “You’re the one who’s joking, right?”
Frustrated, Simon said, “Look, I just want to know what you did to me because I think the drug is giving me strange side effects.”
“This is crazy, man,” Ramon said, shaking his head.
“I know it’s crazy!” Simon didn’t intend to raise his voice. A few nearby moms and/or babysitters looked over.
“You really think we drugged you?” Charlie actually looked hurt.
“I didn’t say you.” Simon glared at Michael. “He was the one who brought the trays out.”
“I didn’t drug you,” Michael said. “I gave you my family beer.”
“Oh, give me a break, all right?” Simon said. “It wasn’t just beer. I’ve had beer before, I have beer all the time, and it doesn’t make me pass out and wake up in goddamn New Jersey. You put something in the beer. What did you do, slip me a roofie?”
Again women were looking over.
“Seriously,” Charlie said, “you’re gonna have to keep it down, man.”
“Why do you think we brought you to Jersey?” Ramon asked.
“How else did I get there?” Simon asked.
“Wait, none of this makes sense,” Charlie said. “You say you were drugged, but when were you drugged? You got a little drunk, that’s all.”
“I warned you about the beer,” Ramon said, “but you seemed to handle it okay. I was impressed.”
“How did I seem to handle it?” Simon said. “I blacked out at the brewery.”
The guys exchanged confused looks.
“The last thing I remember,” Simon said, “is sitting on the couch, so something happened to me.”
“You got a little drunk,” Ramon said, “but not drunk drunk. You were acting pretty normal, actually.”
“You don’t remember playing pool?” Charlie asked.
