Under-Heaven

by Tim Greaton

  When the bus finally stopped across the street from the laundromat, Jesse shouldered his book bag, which only had two picture books and some pictures he’d drawn for his mother, and hurried through the bus and out onto the sidewalk. On any other day, the cold air might have taken his breath away, but not even freezing temperatures could ruin his mood that day. Jesse watched through the glass doors for the bus driver to motion that it was safe, then he bolted across the street, into the laundromat.

  “Hey, Jess,” Gladys, the big woman with large hoop earrings and a tattoo all the way around her neck, said to him as he went inside. She had only been working there for a couple of weeks but seemed nice enough, which was good because she was also his afternoon sitter.

  The last woman had quit working at the laundromat because she got scared after a “hold up,” Jesse heard someone say. He always liked it when his father held him up in the air, but maybe adults didn’t like it as much as kids did.

  Normally he would have pulled out a book to read, but his mind was whirring so fast he couldn’t focus. Instead, he just sat there and swung his feet back and forth while watching the laundry customers. There were only a few people at the machines, which was typical. The homeless teenage girl was also in her regular spot, sleeping across three chairs at the back of the building. Jesse had tried to talk to her once, but after she ignored him he had avoided her as much as possible.

  There was an unfamiliar man about halfway down the long row of machines. He wore jeans and a long brown jacket that almost touched the floor as he sat. He had been reading a magazine when Jesse first arrived, but now he just kept looking over at Jesse and smiling. Of course, Jesse smiled back but that was more because he was thinking about his dad than because he wanted to make a new friend. Either way, the man kept waving and making faces at him.

  Jesse kept glancing at the man but mostly was watching the big clock on the wall. He knew that as soon as the long hand got to the twelve, his mother would arrive. The big hand was still three numbers away when the friendly man gestured for Jesse to go to him. Jesse snickered and shook his head. He wasn’t supposed to talk with strangers. The man gestured a few more times, but Jesse kept shaking his head “no.” He wasn’t about to get in trouble on the day his dad was going to visit.

  No way.

  Oddly, the man wasn’t paying much attention to his laundry, which Jesse saw spinning in one of the nearby dryers. Instead, he kept moving from chair to chair, getting closer and closer to Jesse. When he was only about five chairs away, he pulled a handful of lollipops out of his jacket and held them out. Jesse shook his head.

  The man gestured for Jesse to come closer.

  “You a pervert or something!” the big woman behind the cash register said.

  Jesse snapped his head toward Gladys and was relieved she wasn’t yelling at him. She sure gave the man with the lollipops an angry look, though.

  Visibly shaking, he completely ignored Jesse as he rushed to grab his clothes from the dryer. After throwing everything into a plastic bag, he hurried the long way around the laundromat—apparently to avoid Gladys—and rushed out the front door.

  “Good riddance,” Gladys said, her hoop earrings swinging as she shook her head.

  Fortunately, the next few minutes were incident free. Then, as though she had a clock built into her shoes, his mother arrived exactly as Jesse saw the long hand reach the twelve.

  “How was he today?” his mother asked the new babysitter.

  “You already know,” Gladys said. “He’s a good boy. An’ if you met my two nephews—straight from Satan’s pit, they are—you’d know not all kids are good like Jess is.”

  “I know he’s pretty special,” Jesse’s mom said. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “Aren’t you, Jesse?”

  Jesse nodded. He knew he wasn’t an angel, but until things were worked out between his mom and dad, he intended to be on the best behavior of his life.

  Because their apartment was in the same building as the laundromat, they only had to walk several feet outside to get to their hallway door. Even so, Jesse let his mother zip up his jacket and pull his hood over his head. He was glad Gladys didn’t say anything about the friendly man before they stepped outside. He wasn’t really sure what had happened, but didn’t want anything to ruin the ’speriment.

  “I get paid tomorrow, Gladys, and will square up with you then. Okay?”

  “It’s all good,” the big woman said.

  Some days, Jesse raced up the stairs ahead of his mother, but he knew that to trip and fall, even if it only caused a small bruise, might darken his mother’s mood before his father arrived. So, he carefully followed her up the stairs. Then, while his mother went into the bedroom to change out of her waitress clothes, Jesse pulled his pretend clock out of his closet. Two days before, he had put away all of his toys except this one. He still wasn’t very good at telling time, so had begged his mother to set the hands of the toy clock at the same time as when his father would arrive.

  “When the short hand is on five and the long hand is on six,” he said. “Short five, long six.” He said it a few more times to be sure he could remember it then placed the toy clock on his bed. He would get his mother to reset it for the time of the next visit and the one after that. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be long before the ‘speriment was over, but until then he intended to keep track.

  “Short five, long six,” he whispered as he went into the kitchen and stared at the big white clock. The short hand wasn’t very far from the five. It seemed to him his dad would show up soon.

  Praying his father would be cleaner than last time and wouldn’t have another bloody nose, Jesse hurried into the bathroom to wash his hands and comb his hair. He knew his dad wouldn’t care how he looked, but anything that made his mother happy was important to do. He felt certain that tonight would go better than the last time because even though he wasn’t supposed to, Jesse had warned his father about the ‘speriment.

  By the time Jesse finished cleaning up, his mother was already in the kitchen. When he saw her take a package of steak out of the refrigerator, he knew things were going to be alright.

  Steak was his father’s favorite.

  Wanting to be as helpful as possible, Jesse got out the napkins and silverware. He had all he could do not to cheer at the sight of three place settings at the table. Soon, things were going to be back to normal. They were going to be a happy family again.

  He knew it.

  “Salt and pepper please,” Jesse said.

  “Look at that smile,” his mother said. She placed a pan on the stove. “You’re really excited about tonight, aren’t you?”

  Jesse gave his best grin and nodded. Soon his father would be there and they would have their first family dinner together in a long while. His mother handed him the fancy glass salt and pepper shakers, not the plastic ones they usually used.

  If possible, his grin widened.

  “You know what, Jesse?” his mother said.

  Jesse stared up at her.

  “I promised to really try to make this work, and I meant it. Anything this important to you is important to me, too.”

  “And it’s important to dad, too,” Jesse said matter-of-factly. Sometimes, Jesse thought his father wanted to come home even more than Jesse wanted him there.

  Careful not to drop the glass shakers, Jesse placed them gently on the table. He heard the butter beginning to sizzle in the frying pan as his mother placed three plates and three glasses on the table for him to position where they belonged.

  Everything was working perfectly.

  His mother had just dropped three steaks into the frying pan when the intercom buzzed. She stretched over to reach the keypad and said, “Hi, Wagner. Come on up.”

  The door downstairs opened and slammed shut. Jesse could hear his father coming up the stairs. His breath caught.

  Something wasn’t right.

  His father was walking funny. Jesse was still trying to figure ou
t what was so different when his father knocked on the door.

  “Just a minute…babe.”

  Just hearing her say “babe” made Jesse so excited he almost peed himself. His mom hadn’t called his dad that in a very long time, not since their happier before times.

  His mother moved the steaks around with the spatula then opened the door.

  “You’re right on—”

  “Hello, Karen.”

  Backing up, Jesse’s mother grabbed a sharp knife off the counter.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Doyle? I thought I made myself pretty clear when we talked last time.”

  Jesse felt tears forming. He thought everything with his dad was close to getting fixed, but then the bad man from the grocery store showed up. Jesse’s instincts told him that if his dad showed up while he was there, the entire ‘speriment could fall apart. He was trying to think of something—anything—he could do to make the bad man leave.

  “Hi, Jesse,” the man said, interrupting his thoughts.

  Doyle had one hand hidden behind his back, and made Jesse remember how Eric Wiley at school had been hurt by one of the other boys who had been hiding a stick behind his back. Jesse backed up. “I told you never to talk to my kid again, Doyle.” Jesse’s mom held the knife up. “Now get the hell out of my house and never come back!”

  Doyle took a step back. Jesse might have tried to slam the door shut if the man’s feet hadn’t still been in the way.

  “Karen, I just came to apologize,” Doyle said.

  Jesse’s mother looked ready to stab the man in the arm when he pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back and tried to hand them to her.

  He said, “Those things you told me that day at the store…you really made me think. I wanted you to know I borrowed some money and bailed Marcie out of jail. I also told the police I wouldn’t testify against her. The public defender said that should be enough to keep her out of jail.”

  “So because you finally did something decent in your life, you think I’m going to go out with you. That’s never going to happen. Now take your flowers and go. I’d tell you to give them to Marcie, but I’d be afraid you’d just use her as a punching bag again.”

  Jesse kept watching the bad man’s feet. The second they were out of the way, he intended to close the door. There was only room for one man in their house, and that man was his father.

  “Marcie wouldn’t even talk to me,” Doyle said, “and I don’t blame her.”

  “Good for her,” Jesse’s mother said. “Now please go before Wagner gets here.”

  Doyle nodded, letting the bouquet drop to his side.

  “I just came by to thank you. I’m taking a bus to Arkansas tonight. My brother bought a chicken farm a couple of years ago, and he’s doing real good, good enough to offer me a job. So, I figured it’s time I grew up and started to act like the man I’ve been pretending to be.”

  Jesse’s mother lowered the knife, but Jesse didn’t take his eyes off the scuffed boots in the threshold.

  “Look, Doyle,” Jesse’s mother said. “Everyone deserves a second, chance. I hope it all works out for you.”

  He held out the flowers again. “You sure you won’t take them?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” His mother turned to look at Jesse and gave him a reassuring smile. “I can only accept flowers from two men in my life. And the other one is going to be here in a minute, so could you please go.”

  “You’ve got a pretty great mom,” Doyle said to Jesse. He winked. “You and your dad are lucky guys.”

  Jesse wondered if everyone was like him: a mix of both bad and good. He knew for sure his dad was like that, but when he thought about his mother, he figured she was pretty much all good. Jesse hoped he could grow up to be all good like her.

  “Have a safe trip,” his mother said as Doyle turned and descended the stairs.

  Not able to help himself, Jesse closed the door. It was then they both noticed black smoke rising from the stove.

  “Oh no, the steaks,” his mother said, but rather than yelling she calmly pulled the pan off the stove and tried to flip the steaks with her knife. Smoke continued to billow up toward the ceiling, and one of the steaks flopped onto the floor. Jesse wasn’t sure why, but rather than get mad his mother began to laugh. Jesse giggled, which of course sent her into even deeper peals of laughter.

  She had dropped the frying pan into the sink, and they were sitting on the floor, nearly hysterical with laughter when the intercom buzzer sounded again.

  “Hi, sweetie,” came his father’s voice. “I’m really sorry I’m late, but…I had to stop and get something.”

  His mother hugged Jesse one more time then bounded to her feet.

  “No, you’re right on time,” she said, pressing the intercom button, her voice still filled with good humor. “Come on up, babe.”

  Relieved the footsteps sounded right this time, Jesse stood next to his mother by the door. They both fell speechless when the door swung open to reveal his father, clean shaven with a clean gray jacket and a pure-white button-up shirt. He also wore dress slacks not work jeans, and though he still had on his work boots, they almost looked shiny.

  “These are for you,” his dad said.

  And, as if he hadn’t already outdone himself, he pulled a bouquet of red roses out from behind his back. Jesse glanced up to see his mother’s radiant expression. Though Jesse thought Doyle’s multicolor flowers had been prettier, he could tell from the way his mother stared at his father, she liked the roses much better.

  Suddenly, his father sniffed, and his eyes roamed the kitchen. “What’d you burn?”

  Jesse held his breath.

  His mother threw her arms around his father and kissed him full on the lips. Somehow, Jesse didn’t think it mattered what she had burned.

  12

  And Then Came the Warrior

  I dreamt my arms were snuggled around a tiny dog. Though darker and entirely the wrong breed, I somehow knew it was Whiskey. Reunited with my best friend once again, tears streaked my cheeks. I snuggled into his puppy fur and hugged him tight. We had been apart so long, and even though I hadn’t consciously remembered him I realized that one of the driving forces behind my monster had been a desire to remember my dog. My soul had missed Whiskey so much.

  “How are you, boy?” I whispered.

  He licked my face.

  “Me, too, boy. Me, too.” I rubbed behind his ears.

  He groaned the way he always had when we snuggled.

  “I won’t ever let you go again,” I told him, but already his body was beginning to fade.

  “No!” I cried out.

  “Whulp, whulp,” he said in parting….

  It was dark when I woke, and for the second time I found Ricky had carried my unconscious body into my home. He was sitting in the rocking chair beside me. His Uncle Sedrick stood on the opposite side of the bed.

  “Hey there, young fellow,” Sedrick said. “It’s good to see you in one piece. You had us worried.”

  My grief was so profound that I couldn’t find the strength to answer. My parents were dead. My dog and my sister may have been killed as well. Everything I had known in life had been violently ripped—

  I tried to block out my grief. But as I looked around, I realized I had no family left, not even my grandmother remained in Under-Heaven. Instead, a veritable stranger stood by my side. Even Ricky, though a dear friend, could never replace my family or my dog? My soul ached for Whiskey. I needed him so much.

  Suddenly, my comfortable life in the whiteness of Under-Heaven had turned a dingy gray.

  Ricky got to his feet and leaned over me. I managed a wan smile at his color. His shirt was completely white and his pants had only the tiniest bit of color down to the cuffs. He was as white as I’d ever seen him.

  “I’m good for you,” I said weakly.

  He looked down at his own clothes and smiled. But when his eyes returned, his expression was somber.

 
“I’d rather you were feeling better and I was more colorful,” he said.

  I wanted to smile again, but I couldn’t find a cheerful emotion inside myself. I was an empty shell. Even the sadness had drained away, leaving me hollow and dry inside. I had nothing left. I had nothing to live for, or—correction—to be dead for.

  “You disappeared, Nate,” Ricky told me. “Your entire body vanished. It was only for a minute, but I was so scared.”

  From where I lay, it seemed a damnable shame that I hadn’t accidentally sent myself into oblivion. I’d been killed once; why couldn’t I have just stayed that way?

  “It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sedrick said, “and I’ve been around for a long while. I don’t know where your soul bolted off to, young man, but it sure wasn’t here. How do you feel now?”

  “I don’t feel anything,” I answered honestly. I was a withered husk of a soul. I was a creature without hope, a creature beyond caring.

  Sedrick leaned on his cane and patted my arm with a thickly veined hand.

  “Now that you’re awake, young fellow, I’ll be off. I think your grandmother would like to know how things are going here. I expect she’ll be along shortly.”

  “I thought she was busy with….” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. I had no idea why my grandmother had left me alone for so long.

  Sedrick squeezed my hand.

  “Your family decided you needed some private time to work through your memories. It seems they may have been right. I presume you did remember?”

  “I know how I died.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Sedrick said. His brow wrinkled in concern. “I’ll let your grandmother know.”

  He stood erect.

  “Ricky, will you be okay for a time?”

  “Yeah, me and Nate’ll be okay.”

  Sedrick nodded, but before he could walk from the room, I asked, “Can souls die?”