Theo

by Ed Taylor

  The catering lady is talking about fish, swordfish and salmon. Sushi, she says. Theo’s eaten that in Japan and he hates it.

  Roger is playing piano in the other room, and he’s singing. He and his dad like blues a lot: Theo doesn’t like old music, but his dad plays it all the time and takes Theo to meet people who play it. They play together and Theo sleeps in a chair until it’s over. Usually it’s really late. It’s early now, and Roger’s playing in the sun and it’s weird to hear this music during the day.

  What day is it. Where are the dogs. Someone is taking pictures of Roger. Theo runs out through the ballroom and onto the terrace and toward the lawn and toward his ship – he can keep an eye on things from there.

  Theo looks back at the windows upstairs: they’re closed now. Keep the animals in. He wonders about his dad. Is he sick. Will they make a record. How long will he stay. Where’s Gus. He forgot about Gus, he forgot about Tim, who’s nowhere now. Maybe back with Theo’s dad, minding him.

  People say things at him as he passes but just noise like monkeys. He’s a monkey. He doesn’t want to think, about Adrian or the day. School. Kids like him. Theo notices the muscles in his arms as he pumps his arms, running, notices men with big muscles; there are a couple. Most here are skinny like his dad. So are the ladies, except for some who have big chests. The men and the ladies look kind of alike, with long hair and skinny and pale, the ladies wear short skirts and the men wear pants mostly, one man is wearing a kilt. When they wear bathing suits they dress differently. Why do women wear skirts and men wear pants – his cheeks heat as Theo thinks about how men and ladies are and he feels his crotch tingling. He runs faster to get past all the people and hopes he doesn’t run into anyone coming from the beach.

  He’s at the sliding board, which is brand new – the play set came after they moved into the house, Colin had it delivered. Adrian and Colin thought it would be fun for Theo, but he was embarrassed they thought that. Sometimes on top of the climbing part he watches birds or clouds. But he’s not a kid.

  Now he’s on the ladder’s silver steps, perforated with holes, and climbing to the top, with curved rails and a flat place to sit, which he does, the metal hot. The slide’s silver is too hot for his feet so he tucks them up, bends at the knees with his arms around his knees, but that’s not right – he squats for a minute then moves back down a step and rises to stand, staring out across the ocean of lawn and people toward the country of house. An island.

  The horse is walking, reins trailing on the ground, and the man who rode it is talking to some ladies, one of whom does not have a top on. The front of the man’s pants stick out and one of them is touching that. Theo’s instantly poking out into the slide’s metal and has to adjust. The girls in school, do they know about that. What do girls know.

  Theo hasn’t been around girls for a while. He hasn’t been around boys for a while. Standing at the top of the slide on the ocean. Are all animals like that. He knows the dogs aren’t. He didn’t think about mating much before but he’s starting to. Theo guesses maybe that’s growing up, or some of it. Does it happen to girls. They must, because from what Theo understands they have to let stuff be done to them. Do they like it. Maybe if he had a friend who was a girl.

  Theo’s trying to remember stuff from school and he can’t. Summer makes you forget. What did he learn.

  If he’s a pirate as his mom says he needs a sword, so he runs down the ladder and runs off toward – the shed or the house. His dad has real swords: he streaks for the house to ask. Again he’s weaving through the grownups, the man from the horse gone, the horse walking with reins on the ground, eating grass – Theo stops to watch its big lips, curling to pull at the short stems. He wonders if the grass is enough – maybe there’s something he could feed it in the kitchen. He sees its ribs, its skinny legs like a deer, how does it hold up the big barrel of body. Horses are scary – Theo’s ridden them before with his mom, sitting in front of her and her arms around him, and its more scary than motorcycles, which he’s ridden with his mom and his dad. On the horses the ground seemed miles away, like being on a giant’s shoulders. His mom told him just to relax – horses want to be told what to do. And you tell them with your hands and your knees, she said, you squeeze your legs from waist to thigh but keep them loose from knee to foot, and you also signal with the reins. Horses are happier feeling that someone’s in charge. They’re social animals, Frieda said: they’re like us.

  Someone’s now rubbing the horse’s neck as it crops the grass, and little patches of brown hide shiver to shake off insects. How do they do that, just move one muscle in that big country of muscle. Sometimes it would be nice to be told what to do.

  Theo’s focused on the door and getting inside and notices he doesn’t notice as many things as he did when he was a little kid. When he was little he was constantly watching what all the people were doing around him, and wondering about what they were doing and why. Now that he’s older he pays less attention – like his dad is with photographers. Someone’s always taking pictures, everywhere, and Theo asked his dad once whether it bothered him. His dad said, I’ve had people snapping pictures of me since I was just a few years older than you – I don’t even see cameras anymore, they’re just part of faces, like noses.

  Someone is trying to feed the horse something – Theo can’t tell but a man is laughing and squatting next to its head near the ground holding his open hand near it, but the horse is chewing grass and moving its head away, so the man moves too, on his knees, to keep his hand near its mouth. What’s in his hand. The horse puts its big nose into the hand and then yanks it out, shaking its head and snorting, and it trots a few paces away and stops, then puts its head down and snorts, and then begins cropping again. A lady is kicking the man, and yelling at him in French. She’s speaking fast but Theo knows it’s French: Frieda yells at Adrian in French sometimes when Theo’s with them.

  Theo wonders what’s left for him not to hear. His dad usually is quiet when she goes French. She also speaks German sometimes: sometimes in her sleep.

  Theo’s now beside the horse, patting its massive shoulder and it’s shaking its head crazily every now and then, and snorting. Theo wonders how his mother is. Now he runs again toward the house and the swords. Theo’s suddenly angry: what was in the man’s hand. Mingus moves through the air now outside, in a different costume – one of his space characters, like a robot or a space knight.

  Careful out there, little man, there’s a lot of bastards.

  What do you mean.

  Watch out on that lawn – too many white people in one place can only lead to trouble.

  Is that a joke.

  Sort of.

  Mingus, can I –

  I’m Akhnaten-K.

  What.

  I arrived here to shore up defenses on this outpost against the Triad System.

  This is an outpost.

  Yeah.

  I’ve got a ship out there that we could use to fight. If you want.

  There are two ladies with Mingus that look bored: Come on, we’re not babysitting.

  Hold on, I have to talk to my lieutenant. Mingus puts a hand on Theo and walks him a few feet away, and bends down.

  Listen, man, this is just the beginning. There’s a storm coming, and you gotta get ready.

  A storm: Theo sees nothing but the sky burning with blue. I don’t see any storm – you mean today.

  It’s coming, man, and it’ll be like a war. You gotta protect yourself. Figure out where you can hide if you have to, get your escape pod ready. Don’t fool around with this stuff now, the future of the species might depend on it. Mingus looks serious, and flicks a finger off his nose at Theo as he straightens and turns to the ladies: ready for takeoff, ladies. The three of them stroll onto the lawn toward the empty pool, Mingus’s arms around the ladies and their arms around him, holding each other up.

  Theo walks out of the sun and into the ballroom and a man and a lady are moving fast, going through the scatte
red clothes, pants and shirts, jackets, bending and pulling, occasionally shaking out things, jamming what they find in the black trash bag each carries. They look like they’re harvesting a crop.

  What are you doing, Theo asked. Is that your stuff.

  Yeah, it is. They look at the hall entrances, the kitchen, and the outside doors, and at Theo, and keep rummaging.

  I don’t think all that’s yours. That’s stealing.

  The lady lifts someone’s heavy watch, glittery before it disappears. Then she smiles sleepily and walks to him and stops, just in front of him, her eyes on him the whole time, then lifts her hand and it’s on his throat, tightening a little. It’s warm squeezing, pressing a little on his Adam’s apple, and he swallows. Mum’s the word, she says in a low, normal voice. The man’s hissing at her.

  Then she’s moving and harvesting again. Why didn’t he yell or move, where did his brain go: he just stood like the dogs letting someone play with their ears. Is that what he’ll do. But she was a lady. Ladies don’t hurt.

  Hey. I’m going to tell the police.

  They work their way around and the man looks up and drops the pants he’s holding and the two of them melt away down the back hall toward all the rooms. Theo runs into the kitchen but it’s empty. The kitchen is never empty when his dad is here. Where is the catering lady. Where is his dad. The house a coral reef and people hide in all the holes.

  He needs to tell someone about the robbers in the ballroom. But he doesn’t know who. There’s no teacher.

  There are all kinds of people, like in books Theo’s read. Sometimes they fight each other and sometimes they have to work together on a quest. They try to get to a different place together or make the world grow again after a blank white winter. Sometimes they have to free somebody. Theo’s quest is Adrian now. And Gus. Sometimes Theo thinks Gus is really sad. Colin, too. Theo feels it when he comes on them alone in rooms sometimes. If they’re sad, Theo thinks, maybe I’m sad too and don’t know it.

  Theo’s on the run again, now to the front and up the big stairs, rocks in a stream, he’s leaping: over the fish, maybe piranhas. He mis-times one step, has to balance for long seconds and then just throw himself onto a landing to avoid falling in. He’s on the bank, he made it. And this floor is where Adrian usually crashes. Noise floats, from inside and out. Theo needs a sword, and maybe he can protect the stuff in the ballroom. Stand guard with the dogs. Where are the dogs.

  Theo’s creeping down the shadowed hall, one of the tunnels here; everywhere’s a tunnel unless it’s outside. The house in Jamaica is so light. Theo has a sword in his hand, going from door to door, looking for the monster – it’s here in one of these caves. It might be asleep if he’s lucky. Bells. Chimes. The big clock on the first floor that’s stopped at two minutes to twelve is ringing. Colin winds it every week with a key. The time never changes but it chimes. It’s alive, singing every now and then. Theo puts his ear against the case because he can feel the chimes all over. Colin calls Theo a headbanger because of that. You’re one of us, Colin says. What does that mean – Colin just says, god’s mercy on you. Theo hates when adults say things like that.

  You’ll understand later – it’s like poetry, Colin says. Theo wants to know now.

  Who could he tell about the stealing. Theo’s guessing at doors. There’s Arabic music behind one, the light from the window at the hall’s end stopping right at that door, a sundial or a signal. Theo takes the handle and opens.

  It’s one of the rooms with some old furniture but it smells sweet. Roger and his dad are there on a dim red shiny sofa with fringe and no legs. Adrian has one of his big acoustic guitars in his hands, Theo knows it’s called a dreadnought.

  Adrian leans back. Roger holds a bottle in his hand. The couch sags, its guts a yellow-white cloud, and a minder’s bending next to the door, and ladies. One lady is asleep on a pile of cushions without any clothes on. Adrian’s briefcase is beside him on a low table. A lady is leaning and in the middle of tying a piece of colorful cloth around Adrian’s arm, one of the things his dad brought from Morocco. Everyone’s looking at Theo, except the sleeping lady. But no one’s moving or saying anything: a room full of animals watching from deep in their heads, or inside something else. What’s it like in there. Adrian says, you’re fired, to the straightening minder, Billy or Bobby, who’s apparently grabbing up something from under his pants at the calf.

  Dad, a man and lady are stealing stuff in the ballroom. They’re taking things that aren’t theirs.

  Sound equipment.

  No, they were picking up other people’s stuff and going through it.

  Bloody Hamptons.

  Ratty cushions everywhere, and another low round table, and two mattresses, and the other old amputated sofa, and flowers. Vases of flowers – Leslie’s flowers or someone else’s – and on dark wood wall a man is spray-painting something inside a long rectangle he’s already painted. He’s painting a sun. It’s a window.

  Go tell Colin.

  I can’t find him. I don’t know where he is. Or Gus.

  Okay. It’s okay, darling. It’s a lesson in nonattachment. We’ll make the place an ashram – Adrian and Roger both laughed. Sexy Sadie, Roger said to Adrian. No, that’s your job, Adrian growled, sniffing.

  What should I do. Theo felt awkward, everyone strange; strangers.

  Nothing, love. It’s a charitable donation, it’s baraka. Go have some fun.

  Can I stay with you.

  Rustling among the others, shifting, some slumping lower. Roger exhales cigarette smoke toward the ceiling. The lady finishes tying the scarf thing on Adrian’s arm, tightly. She tugs on it.

  No love, we’re doing business right now. Go have a good life.

  What do I do.

  Adrian stares at Theo, and laughs.

  Escape from me, mate – get out and get some sun.

  I’ve been in the sun all day. Why don’t you come with me. You and Roger could talk outside.

  Theo’s impatient and filling with wild, he wants to kick something, bite. Adrian seems fine as far as Theo can see. So what happened before.

  Nah, my friend, we need some quiet to work. There’re too many people around, too many settlers movin in, pardner. Too many thieves. We have to work. We’re going to record here, remember, and that takes a lot of work, a lot of planning. You’re going to help, yeah.

  Theo’s tapping his legs. Dad.

  Adrian’s face droops slightly. Aw, love, I’m sorry. I can’t right now.

  Why don’t you get a normal job.

  Ah, mate. I ain’t normal, I’m afraid. You and I, we’re carnies. We got the sawdust in our blood. Sometimes that’s hard.

  Why is it hard.

  You’re making my head hurt. Adrian’s smiling with half his mouth. Your mind’s always on turbocharge. You’ll make a good scientist, or a lawyer, god forbid. You’ll make a good whatever you fucking want to be, my friend. You can escape. Me – Adrian laughed hard, and his eyes slowly closed, then opened. The show must go on. And right now mate – Theo feels a hand on his shoulder and Billy looms, a darker thing in the dark but the hand was kind, just there – you gotta let me get on with the act.

  I want to go back to school. Theo didn’t know what else to say, swallowing.

  The hand’s just there, waiting, warm on Theo’s bare shoulder, the hand big.

  I know, I know. Go back to the world, mate, I’ll be there in a while.

  I want to live somewhere else. Theo’s heart kicked.

  The spray-painted window is finished – there’s a sun, and a palm tree, and a naked woman’s outline, and a little plane towing a banner in the sky that says ‘Lies.’

  Later, mate. We’ll figure it all out.

  The hand. Answers. Theo’s wondering. Where. Where do they come from. You make the answers up or there aren’t any. Billy moves him, Theo realizes, before he’s realized it. Adrian’s hands are on the guitar and his eyes are closed. Everyone else seems to be waiting for something: Theo to
leave, he figures.

  The man spray-paints a mark on the wall like Theo’s seen around his school in Manhattan. A tag.

  What does he do now – Theo doesn’t know. Theo looks at Roger: Roger’s head is tilted back, watching him. Theo thinks about Diana, Roger’s daughter. Roger’s winking and nodding at Theo: it’s okay, he might be saying, but Theo’s not sure. It’s hard to tell: adults want you to agree with them, just say okay.

  Okay, Theo says, to the air, and the hand.

  The door closes and clicks behind him, and Theo’s off running, down the tunnel, away from the army, dark people in black uniforms, down the stairs, jumping. Now he’s in the curving part of the back hall and he hears laughing and ahead sees a slick of something on the tiles, water maybe, and ladies and men at the other end in wet shirts and bare skin – no way for Theo to get past without being seen, and so he stops where it’s a little darker and sees the first lady start running in the hall in a kind of crouch and then sprawl onto the floor and slide on her stomach toward Theo and everyone’s hair wet looking and hers long and her laughing and one of the men has one of the big tins of oil from the pantry and he’s pouring it onto the floor and – gunshots.

  Or fireworks. Theo’s not sure. So Theo goes back away from the sliders, he backtracks toward the enemy, out another way. Sound from rooms and Theo’s past it, taking the other way toward the front hall, and he’s in it, full of junk, and new things hanging from the chandelier, including a garden hose now, and sneakers, pink, and he’s outside.

  The butterflies – he wonders about them. His dad should see. His dad’s not the same with other people around. Maybe he wouldn’t do it if they weren’t around. Theo feels like maybe if he could get his dad to do stuff with him it would be better for his dad. People are always offering Adrian things to swallow or drink. He never says no. He’s so polite, Theo thinks. Maybe if he could be with his dad he could help him, he could be the person to say no. If he could just get his dad’s attention. He needs to be more interesting: his dad might pay more attention. His mom too. Maybe. So he needs to learn something.