However, the man touched me before I opened my eyes and we were gone from heaven.
“It’s late,” he said almost gently, “and you have done well. In the grey dawn when you awake with your youthful health and cleared mind, the body and soul as one, you’ll remember me. If you ever need to see me again, go to any clergy and they’ll guide you here. Now before I leave, I must tell you something. Tomorrow begins your new life. Whatever gifts you are offered, you must take them, but fear them as well. They’ll only be presented this one time, and they are indeed glorious, beyond the wildest hopes of your mortal fate, but in them, lies the seeds of your destruction unless you follow the guide which has been dispatched for you.”
I’d no idea what he meant, but it sounded complicated and I was glad when he finished. I remembered pretty much everything during my stay at the hospital, but especially that dream. I now had a friend in Jesus. When I awoke the next morning, a song played in my head, a blusterous rhapsody in a language I’d never heard, but it quickly faded as another group of people gathered around me.
“He’s awake,” Mr. Drury said, my assigned truant-officer, a sad-looking man with a round face and hard perplexed eyes. His bald head had a sweep of grey hair on the sides and he wore a trim grey moustache. He looked vaguely like a cop, and if it hadn’t been for the sad, almost anguished eyes, he would have looked like a mean one too. The irony of this thought wasn’t lost on me, he was actually a police-officer of sorts, and I knew it, it’s just that at the time, I equated cops with the men in the blue uniform.
“He has more color today,” the plump nurse said softly. I recognized her voice but didn’t look at her face. “I’ll get the doctor.”
My sleep-encrusted eyes wouldn’t go from face to face. It was just too much, and I was mortified they’d been staring at the lump on my stomach only half hidden under the linen sheets. I rubbed my eyes harshly and forced myself to sit up a little on my pillow. I quickly felt my head to find the gauze had been removed. Only long narrow bandages covered the lump on it now, but it was still gross to touch.
“How do you feel?” Mrs. Abbibas said softly, an East Indian woman, who though dressed in Western style, always managed to look as though she was in a silk sari. She coiffured her graying hair in smooth waves, and her compassionate eyes were full of affection. Her black dress was covered in a large grey silk shawl as though she was a person from a mysterious land who hid out in New Jersey and wished to return home, but couldn’t find the secret path back.
She had these deep-set eyes and a smile on her face that seemed the definition of maternal love. Many times she had talked to me, and appeared always magnanimous, but I could never really understand what she said. Not that it mattered. Outside of taking me home, what could she do? My mother was dead, my father, nonexistent. I’d no standing or money. I was sleeping with Lloyd, living in a broken-down halfway home on Carling Street, and had been arrested for truancy three times. Who wanted to adopt an eight-year-old with a history? And one caught stealing from perhaps the wealthiest family in New Jersey no less?
I nodded and she lightly rubbed my hand. I recognized the man with the friendly blue eyes and moustache. He looked down and smiled again. This time he was dressed in casual clothes. “I’m Stan Tappet,” he said in a rather timid voice. “This is Una.” I darted a glance at the big black woman with the formidable magic.
Una was an opposite type to Mrs. Abbibas. She dressed in a loose bright red-yellow floral dress, and her eyes were playful and full of inquiry. ‘The Tappets perhaps owned New Jersey,’ her eyes said, ‘but people like me built it.’
“Do you know why we’ve come?” she asked loudly.
Indeed, I’d guessed it, but shook my head and got out from under her gaze. Stan was to be my new father. I could see he was afraid that I’d turn him down, that for some reason, that somehow, I wouldn’t understand what was being offered. I think he was afraid that I was thick as a brick. I saw that I held sway over him. He’d been sent out by the lady with the voice of authority and wasn’t to come home without me. They were used of getting what they wanted. I remember feeling exactly that! Power. Perhaps it was the first time in my life I had it over someone and I didn’t even know why, but I wouldn’t willingly give it up.
Sally strode in from behind the people in the room, her face kindled with delight, a bright red tin of Coca-Cola in her hand.
“Hi,” she mouthed.
I saw that she had recognized inside herself the seed of love I’d planted there from our first meeting. No shyness came to her eyes either. They were fountains of translucence whose depths were unimaginable. I had to have her—I became greedy for her. It was deplorable but urgent as well. I had power over someone for the first time, but he’d taken it all back by bringing his daughter who had power over me. With her in my life, the taste of Lloyd could be rinsed out and my past thoroughly rejected. Through Sally, I could purify myself further. Jesus had sent Sally to me.
All of this must have jumped to my face or something, and Una pounced on me. She took my hand and squeezed it not so gently. “Well, Mr. Christian, my full-grown child, ” she said, “just don’t be wagging your tail yet. The nice people at Carling Street would be happy to get rid of you, and I can see why, but I think that the poor Tappets would be fools to take you in. They feel obliged and I don’t see it that way at all. It was just an accident. Bryce didn’t mean to hit you so hard.” With her other hand on my chin, she forced me to look at her. “Is there the devil in you?” she asked.
Fear jumped to my face. I shook my head so vigorously it caused her to let out a loud laugh. She stared at me for the longest time until I tore my eyes away and looked up at Stan for mercy. To my utter surprise, he shrugged. I saw she’d the power over me, and not he. I didn’t have power at all. I was furious that I misread the whole situation so poorly.
I abruptly saw Una’s power then. It was brilliantly disguised. So mysterious and extraordinary as to be frightful, and at this point, totally camouflaged and unknowable by someone my age. What force she served, I couldn’t see, yet I knew she’d been the one who was responsible for Sally’s upbringing, the one who would be responsible for me. Perhaps it was she and not Sally who would be my earthly guide as Jesus had promised. But whatever her standing and who ever she served, I could clearly see I had absolutely no power over her and that she could stop everything this instant with just a remark.
“The Tappet family wishes to adopt you, Christian,” Mr. Drury said from the foot of my bed as though coming to my rescue. “Mrs. Abbibas and I feel it is an excellent opportunity for you. We strongly recommend it. Nothing stands in the way of an expeditious agreement. We already spoke to Carling Street. You could be in your new home today. All we need is your agreement.”
I looked at Stan and perhaps said one of the most disingenuous statements, and there have been many in my time as a son to him, with a wild-eyed smile on my face.
“You will become my father?” I asked in wonder.
He returned the smile completely taken in, but Una spoke up again.
“Mr. Tappet is a very busy man, my full-grown child,” she said staring at me again. “He invents things, and all over the world, he works for a better place. He’ll have time for none of your nonsense. I can assure you of that. I’ll be looking after you, mostly, so, think twice before you say yes to this. It’ll be no picnic.”
Though her eyes remained playful, I didn’t doubt her words for a second. She was truly neutral to my coming into her life. I could see it clearly. Her love would be conditional. I’d never be able to work my charm on her as I would others. I guessed that she didn’t really want the extra responsibility. I don’t think it was even personal, but she seemed to see through my mask so quickly and perhaps was afraid I was a bad person. Or maybe she had a bad premonition of what my arrival meant, of the calamities that would unfold.
I seriously thought about refusing it, but with the dream and everything, how could I? I put away the smile and hu
ng my head. “I’ll be a good son to you, Mr. Tappet,” I promised.
This got everything going and even Una agreed it could be fun. When they left, I dressed into clothes Mrs. Abbibas had brought from Carling Street. In the washroom, I peeled back the bandages and was surprised to see that my head held twenty or so stitches, but it didn’t look as bad as it felt. Mr. Drury waited out in the hall, having agreed to take me back to pack up and sign some papers.
“Are you ready?” he asked when I stepped out into the corridor. I could see some of the anguish in his eyes had been alleviated by my good fortune. I felt fine and kept up to him with no problem. Looking back, I saw I had stayed in North Jersey General. It was a huge complex bordered by busy streets. Since Snowball had been killed by a speeding car, I’d become extremely annoyed with traffic in general. Mr. Drury owned a new navy-blue Grand Prix, and on his car-radio on the way to Carling Street, a song played, People Got to be Free, which I thought was very true.
For an eight-year-old, every path seems blocked. No liberty exists, only endless numbers of mysterious adult rules, and especially, the perplexing laws of life. But now I was happy and that was almost like being free. Mr. Drury rubbed my shoulder. “It’s a hard story to believe,” he said slowly. “It’s the darnedest thing, really. One of the richest families along these parts is going to adopt you, and all because you were stealing their flowers and their gardener clobbered you.” He chuckled to himself. “Who would believe it? But I’m happy for you, Christian. You’re a good boy and you deserve a nice family.”
I’d tears at these words. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to me. I wished I had thanked him for it, but I was too emotional. A chance in a million had come to me. It was a miracle really. Lloyd came over to help pack up my things, but gathering it up was the simplest thing in the world. My clothes fit into a small duffle bag with room left for that much again. I’d no cards, music, glasses, radios, watches, jewelry, belts, sports stuff, toys, stuffed animals, or anything else like that, just a few old rags, my toothbrush, and an old black plastic comb.
“Will I be able to come over to your new home and see you?” he asked.
I shook my head and certainly hoped not. He hugged me, and though I tried with all my will to return it, I couldn’t.
“I love you,” he whispered in my ear.
“I’ll see you some time,” I said, breaking away.
His unshaped face took on a forlorn-look, but I felt no pity. What I owed him for protection, I’d paid in full, and then some.
“Mr. Tappet is waiting,” Mr. Drury said, knocking on the door.
I shook a few hands, signed some papers, and in a minute, found myself out on the street standing in front of a huge black stretch limousine, which back in 1968 was quite an uncommon sight.
“This isn’t ours, my full-grown child,” Una said coming from the front passenger seat to let me in. “We rented it, so don’t go getting highfalutin. This is Mary’s idea of welcoming you into our family.”
I sat beside Sally in the backseat straight across from Stan and Mary Tappet. Enough room remained between the seats to stretch my legs but everybody sat up and so did I. Sally had her blond hair in a pony tail and her narrow face looked wonderful with her clear shining eyes. For the first time, probably because Una had stripped me of my power, I was nervous and couldn’t speak.
“You look much improved,” Mary said. “You must have so many questions in your head.”
I did, but could hardly ask them why they were going to adopt me, why anyone on earth would bother? I’d once overheard Mr. Drury say that after you’re eight-years-old it is pretty much a done deal for an orphaned boy, and I believed it. All the teenage orphans I’d met, long ago had given up any hope of it. I nodded but said nothing.
“Let me explain the best I can,” she continued. “For sometime after Sally was born, we tried to have another child and weren’t successful. The business needed my full attention in the last three years so I couldn’t afford to get pregnant. By default. Do you know what that word means?” I lied with a nod. “By default,” she continued, “we decided Sally would be an only child and that she would learn to live with it, but she herself complained about this and has asked many times about a sibling. When Bryce clobbered you and we found out that you were an orphan, Una said it was a sign.”
I turned around to look at Una who sat watching from the front seat. She nodded her head but said nothing. “We have to talk to you about our family,” Mary added, “our rules, and your obligations. Sally is a gifted student and we’ll get you a tutor to get you up to speed in that department. Are you willing to try to catch up to Sally so that you can enter the same school as her in September?” I nodded. “Good,” she continued. “We saw your truancy reports. We hope it isn’t reflective of your attitude toward school.”
“My teacher was boring,” I said with another lie.
“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Mary said with a smile. “This is your number one obligation in our family, just as it is Sally’s. If you do well in school and listen to Una, you may have whatever you wish, but school comes first on all fronts. We’ve had the week to prepare a room for you which we hope you’ll like. Stan says you look chipper and he picked out the design. I don’t know what that means, but he feels you’ll fit in just fine.”
“Besides expressing himself well,” Una piped in, “Mr. Stan has many talents. He’s an airplane pilot and collects dinky-toy airplanes. Wait until you see your room. You’ll beg to be returned at once to Carling Street.”
Both Stan and Mary laughed at this, so I joined in, although I didn’t understand the joke and thought it was a bit much from a servant. However, that pretty much defined their relationship. I heard Una make fun of Mary only a few times in my whole life, but Stan got it every day.
“Would you like to learn to fly airplanes?” she asked me further. Again I nodded. “You’re very cooperative,” she added, making fun of me. “Let’s see how far you’ll go to please us. Sally has a fine collection of Barbie dolls, maybe a dozen or so. Will you play Barbie with her?”
I blushed and hoped she wouldn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t want to disappoint Sally. A silence ensued so that I knew I couldn’t ignore the question. Una’s power over them seemed supernatural, but the thought of playing Barbie at that age naturally repulsed me, as it should any boy. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but I don’t think I could play with dolls.”
“A man of principle,” Una said with a laugh and turned around.
This seemed to satisfy everyone, even Sally. I was bewildered.
“Una is quite insane,” Stan whispered with a smile, “there’s no cure.”
He put his fingers to his lips to signal to keep it to myself and winked. I held his daughter’s hand and waited to arrive at the mansion where I’d stolen flowers for my mother. When we drove up the driveway, a feeling of being lost in a dream overwhelmed me.
“Why are you crying?” Sally whispered, her voice so full of conspiratorial love that more tears came still. The limousine drove up the wide extended driveway which ran along the back of the house. Gold and orange colored bricks lay interlocked in a shimmering circular design and made up the drive and walkways. Flourishing climbing-roses and tall potted grafted azaleas bordered the lavish cement archways. Red maples and flowering African vine trees lined the driveway, interspersed with bright blooming flower beds and sculptures of fawns and naked children. It was beautiful and I caught my breath several times.
Sally continued to hold onto my hand and we walked up a stone pathway to a partially hidden door. This led to the kitchen which had a large center island with a sunroom and eating room to the right, facing west, then it fell out onto a large dining room. It was freshly painted with pristine-white, and held huge white appliances which sparkled in the bright room: two fridges, a stove, dishwasher, and others I didn’t even know at the time existed, like rotary grill-cookers, toaster-ovens
, microwaves, stand up freezers, and so forth.
They all carried the Factory-Bright label, the Tappet trade name, but of course, I didn’t know that at the time either. Pictures of Una standing in the front yard of small restaurants surrounded by tall palm trees, all in different places, adorned the walls in the kitchen.
“Mom, let me show him his room,” Sally urged.
“Okay, Sweetie,” Mary said. “We’ll give you a five minute head start.”
Sally opened a door to a dark room on the left, and turned on the light. In front of my eyes stood what look like a grocery store, a pantry so loaded with food that it seemed impossible that a house could hold it. Giant coffin-freezers and two huge silver-colored fridges took up the wall in the middle. At the back of it, stood a wide carpeted spiral-staircase and she led me in a rush up to the top floor.
She took me down a hallway so wide it could have been a room. Three corridors broke out from it. Still holding my hand, she led me to my new room. My first impression of it was that it was the size of a small dormitory. It had two enormous bay windows. Below one window sat a desk so large that it had two chairs on wheels. The bed on the other hand, differed little in size from what I slept in at Carling Street, however, it had a comforter which matched the sheets, pillow cases, and curtains. This I thought was quite ingenious.
The walls were papered in a light design of airplane sketches, all kinds of planes, from the earliest to the most modern, and the multiple shelves attached to them held either model airplanes or books; dozens of both. A wind-chime of helicopters hung from the ceiling in one of the corners. A sizable television-set sat on a wooden stand and there was a large radio on my desk. Above it on a shelf, a new leather-bound edition of a huge set of books was all aligned in perfect order.
Stealing Flowers Page 2
