The Kidney Hypothetical
Page 16
“That’s what I’ve been telling her!”
“You should listen to your boyfriend,” he instructed Monarch as he put the banner in the trunk of the police car.
I didn’t correct him.
“Did she do that to you?” he asked, pointing to my black eye.
“If I did, would you handcuff me?” Monarch purred.
Connor laughed. “Honey, you’re dangerous,” he told her.
I didn’t like the way they were grinning at each other.
“When did you get back in town?” I asked. “I thought you moved to the Bay Area.”
“I did,” Connor said. “Did my training up there and worked in San Francisco for a couple of years, then put in for a transfer. I’ve only been back about a month. You two stay put. I’ve got to call this in.”
I felt sick. I was in so much trouble. “I wonder why they thought I was trying to kill myself?” I said to Monarch.
“Because that’s what I told them.”
“That’s crazy. Why would you say that?”
“Because it sounded more sane than you were trying to rescue your mouse.”
She had a point. I held Stuart against my cheek.
“When was the last time you were really, really happy?” I asked.
“Two weeks ago,” she said.
“What happened two weeks ago?”
“Two weeks ago I was in another place,” Monarch said without explanation. “What about you, Higgs? When was the last time you were really, really happy?”
“Now. I’m really, really happy now.”
Monarch kissed me on the cheek. “You are truly strange, do you know that?”
I took that as a compliment.
“Monarch …,” I began.
“Hmmm,” she answered as she turned her attention toward the fire truck taking off. “Connor’s cute, but I’m not one of those chicks who’s into cops. However, firefighters are hot.”
“Monarch, I love you,” I blurted out.
“Oh, Higgs.” Monarch ran her fingertips lightly across my face and I winced in pain. “That’s so nice,” she said, “and you’re so sweet, but you’re also full of shit. So please stop telling me you love me. It’s getting annoying.”
“I just told you that I loved you and your response is that I’m full of shit?”
Monarch looked proud of herself. “Yeah.”
“Why?” I didn’t even try to hide my hurt. “Why would you say something like that? What is wrong with you?”
“Look, you barely know me,” she said. “If you knew the real me, I doubt you’d be saying that.”
“I do know the real you.”
“You only think you do. Listen, today is graduation. Then it’s off to college. This is the end of the story for us.”
Graduation. I had forgotten it was Saturday.
“I probably won’t get into Harvard, remember?”
Monarch’s face clouded. “Higgs,” she said, sounding serious. “Don’t screw up your life. Fix your mess. Ace your interview. Go to Harvard. It’s what you were meant to do.”
“Why are you of all people telling me this? I thought you hated the Ivy League bourgeois. Are you thinking we don’t belong together because we’re so different?”
“It’s because we’re not,” she said flatly.
To say that I was confused would be a monumental understatement.
“Aw, Higgs, don’t pout,” she said.
When Monarch leaned in to give me a conciliatory kiss, I pushed her way. I didn’t want her pity.
“Hey, is that any way to treat someone you love?” she teased.
Connor got off his radio and came around to us. “Sorry, but I need to take you two in.”
“Why?” I asked. “I wasn’t trying to hurt myself.”
Connor’s face turned grim. “Higgs, if you were trying to commit suicide, that’s huge and you’ll need to seek counseling. But if you weren’t, not only did you trespass, but we had to call a rescue vehicle to get you down. Someone’s got to pay for that. You’ll be cited for causing public mischief and there are a whole lot of other charges that can be thrown at you.”
“Public mischief,” Monarch said, smirking. “Higgs, they got you for public mischief. What do you have to say for yourself?”
I couldn’t speak.
Connor turned to face Monarch. “You’re going to the station too.”
“Excuse me, but no,” Monarch said, her tone changing. “I have my rights. You have no reason to take me in.”
“I could start with trespassing,” he replied, “and I’m sure if I really started digging I could come up with more on you.”
Like magic, Monarch was silenced.
The air was stilted. There were no door handles in the back of the police car, and there was no way to roll down the windows. Not that we could if we wanted to. Both Monarch and I were handcuffed. “Police procedure,” Connor had explained apologetically.
“Seriously? Public mischief?” Monarch snorted as he started the engine. “You’re a danger to society.”
“Leave me alone,” I told her. “Is everything a joke to you?”
“Not everything,” she said.
The police station wasn’t far, but the ride took forever. Monarch looked out the right window. I looked out the left. We were like two strangers who happened to be handcuffed in the back of a cop car. I could see Connor watching me in the rearview mirror as his partner drove in silence. I had finally overdosed on Monarch.
In the harsh light of the booking room, Monarch looked different. Younger, less confident.
“Higgs?” she called to me as she was being taken away.
I didn’t answer her, even though it hurt.
Connor took away the tie to my bathrobe. “Empty your pockets,” he said.
“I’ve got nothing,” I told him.
The cell was a lot cleaner and nicer than the ones on television, and I was relieved to see that there was no four-hundred-pound tattooed guy who wanted to make me his girlfriend. Despite there being two bunk beds, a skinny old man was sleeping peacefully on the floor. He reeked of alcohol. Against the far wall was a metal toilet and sink. It smelled like day-old piss and fresh puke.
“You’ll be here until we decide what to do with you,” Connor told me. The drunk was snoring loudly. “Sorry about your roommate. He’s harmless.”
I was so glad that if I had to be hauled to the police station it was by my brother’s best friend. “Connor,” I asked, “how big a mess am I in?”
He shook his head. “With the law? Nothing a good lawyer couldn’t get you out of. But from what I remember about your dad, he’s not going to be happy about this.”
“What about Monarch?”
“Who?”
“The girl I was with.”
“I wouldn’t worry about her, Higgs,” he said, shaking his head. “That girl can take care of herself.”
“Hey, Connor,” I said as he started to head out. “Jeffrey would be proud that you’re a cop.”
He smiled. “He’d be proud of you too, Higgs. I heard you got into Harvard. It’s what you’ve always wanted, right?”
“I wanted to go for Jeffrey,” I said. “To honor his memory. Oh god, Connor, I’ve totally screwed up.”
Connor let go of a deep sigh. “You think Jeffrey never messed up? He wasn’t what your parents thought he was. Your brother was a regular guy who had too much to drink and fucked up. He was no saint, Higgs.”
“He is now,” I said. “Just ask my mom and dad. He would have been the third generation of Bing dentist.”
Connor laughed. “Yeah, right. Jeffrey, a dentist.”
“What?” I asked. “Why is that funny?”
“Your brother was only going to Harvard to make your parents happy. What he really wanted to do was be a cop. Everyone knew that.”
“I didn’t know that,” I started to say.
“Why do you think he got so drunk after graduation?”
I let this sink
in.
“Do what you want to do,” Connor said. “That’s what Jeffrey would have wanted. That’s how you can honor him.”
I lay down on the bunk bed. The mattress was hard, but I didn’t care. I had a killer headache. A migraine times a million. My thoughts ricocheted. My stomach turned cartwheels. Every punch and kick, every name I had been called, all came back in a rush. I pulled Mom’s Robe of Depression around me and allowed myself to be engulfed in its softness. I understood why it gave her comfort.
* * *
“Higgs Boson Bing!!!” Someone was shouting.
I bolted upright and instantly checked my pocket to make sure that I hadn’t crushed Stuart. How long had I been asleep?
Stuart was gone.
Panic.
“There’s a mouse in here!” the drunk slurred.
“We don’t have mice,” the policewoman said curtly.
I followed the drunk’s sight line and spied Stuart under the sink. “I have to pee,” I said.
When she turned around, I grabbed Stuart and slipped him back in my pocket.
“He has the mouse!” the drunk called out.
I flushed the toilet. “We can go now,” I said.
“How come he gets to go …,” the drunk called out after me. “I love your coat — pink is your color!”
I followed the officer down the hall and into the lobby. My mother burst into tears when she saw me. She hugged me tight and then looked at my face and started crying again. “What did they do to you in there?” she asked. “Why are you wearing my bathrobe?”
I touched my lip. It still hurt. “I did this to myself,” I told her. I didn’t answer her second question.
My father’s jaw looked absolutely locked. His gleaming smile was nowhere to be seen, and he looked much older than I had remembered him being. With him was a balding man with a briefcase. I wondered if it was not too late to run back and lock myself in the cell with the drunk.
“Higgs, are you all right? Why are you wearing your mother’s bathrobe?” Dad asked. I stiffened when he hugged me. “What happened to your front tooth?”
“It’s chipped,” I said.
“Let me see that,” my father said, examining my mouth. “We’ll have to put a cap on that.”
“Did this happen in jail?” the stranger asked, motioning to my face. He took out his cell phone and started taking photos. “We can sue the city.”
“Higgs, this is your lawyer, John Dullaghan,” Dad explained.
The policewoman looked like she was anxious for us to leave. She made me and my parents sign a bunch of papers.
“Am I free to go?” I asked.
“For now,” she said.
“What’s going to happen to Monarch?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Monarch, the girl I came in with.”
“Oh, her,” the policewoman said dismissively. “Her parents came and got her half an hour ago. There was quite a scene.”
“Excuse me?”
“Her parents got her half an hour ago,” she said again as she began stapling papers.
Her parents?
“Let’s go, Higgs,” my father told me.
Connor came out to say good-bye. “Mr. Bing,” he said, extending his hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
There was an awkward silence. After Jeffrey died, Connor would come by to talk to my mom. But it pained my father to see him, and it got so uncomfortable that after a while Connor stopped visiting.
“Connor,” my father said, gripping his hand.
“So nice to see you again, Connor,” Mom said, giving him a hug. She took a step back. “Let me look at you.” Her eyes misted up.
Suddenly, Connor didn’t look like a cop. He looked like the kid my big brother hung out with. I flashed back on the two of them wearing their LAPD badges and chasing imaginary bad guys. Now, though, there was only one police officer standing before me.
Mom nodded in approval as she stared at Connor, then gave him another hug. Dad coughed into his hand before turning away to hide his tears.
As I was guided out of the police station by my parents and my attorney, I ran back to thank Connor. He was carrying the Hitler Higgs banner.
“Why do you have that?” I asked.
“Just getting rid of it. You want it?”
“No way in hell …,” I started to say. Then I noticed something strange. My face burned red, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
I knew who had been trying to bring me down.
Outside, the sunlight was blinding. It had been the longest night of my life and all I wanted to do was to go home and sleep in my own bed. Nothing made sense — not that it ever did.
Monarch’s parents picked her up? She said she didn’t have parents. Had she lied to me? More likely, she had scammed the police by getting a couple people to pretend they were her parents. Still, I couldn’t be sure. With Monarch, anything was possible.
“Higgs,” my father said as he drove Mom’s car. “Do you want to talk?”
Talking was the last thing I wanted to do.
“I have nothing to say,” I told him.
“He’s had a hard night,” my mother intervened. “When Higgs is ready to talk to us, he will.”
She gave me a reassuring smile, but I could tell she was worried. I noticed that my dad was wearing a suit and my mom was all dressed up. As we neared the high school, the parking lot was full. Then it hit me.
“I sort of thought I’d skip graduation,” I announced.
I hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours.
“You will do nothing of the sort,” my father said. “You have a speech to give.”
“That’s right,” Mom backed him up, and for a moment, they were a unified front. “I’ve brought your cap and gown.”
I cupped Stuart in my hands so my parents couldn’t see him.
“You’ve also got your phone interview with Harvard admissions,” Dad reminded me. “Given your debate skills, you’ll slide right through it. I’m not worried.”
He might not have been worried, but I was. My future would be determined in a phone call.
As Mom started going over the details of my graduation party, I wondered what Monarch would have said if she could have heard her. There would be swans made out of ice, a live band, and a carving station with your choice of prime rib or turkey. However, if you were a vegetarian, like Monarch, there would be a sushi chef taking requests, and if you happened to be vegan, no problem, you would be well cared for too. My mother always thought of everything and everyone. Well, except for herself.
Knowing my father, the guest list would include many of his wealthier patients, his golf buddies, members of the local Harvard Alumni Association, and anyone who had ever served on city council. Would Mrs. Taelo be there? I wondered. Had Dad noticed the necklace was missing?
I slipped on the cap and gown, and made sure Stuart was safe. It was lucky that the shorts Monarch had bought for me had pockets. Was she back at her trailer? I wondered.
As we entered the football stadium, I was handed a program. My name was still listed as a commencement speaker. The school orchestra was playing. Mr. Hermes looked funny in a suit. Charlie was wearing a dress. It was like some sort of alternative world. The bleachers on the football field were full of well-dressed friends and relations. The ceremony had already started. Before I went to join the senior class, Mom stopped me.
“Higgs,” she said, softly. “Do you want to talk?”
“No.”
“Higgs,” my father said. He sounded worried. “I know I’ve put a lot of pressure on you lately, but, well, if any of this is my fault —”
My mother started crying. “Honey, were you going to jump off the water tower?”
Is that what they thought?
I shook my head. “No, Mom. I’d never do that,” I assured her. “I was just trying to take down a stupid banner.” Both had blank looks on their faces. “It was a prank on the seniors,” I explained. I left
out the part about Monarch and Stuart.
“See,” Dad said to Mom. “You worry too much. I told you he’s fine. Higgs knows he’s going to ace that Harvard interview.”
I started to say something, but instead I ran down the aisle toward the stage.
Zander Findley was seated next to Lauren Fujiyama, and Mr. Avis was next to her. Principal Kostantino was at the podium droning on about how we come into high school as children and leave adults. Lauren looked shocked to see me. She touched her eye and mouthed, “Are you okay?”
It was only then that I remembered my face had been used as a punching bag.
I nodded.
With no chair for me to sit in, I stood behind Zander.
“Nice of you to stop by,” Mr. Avis said under his breath. “But you’re not giving a speech. I believe we settled that.”
I scanned the seniors and waved to Roo, who pretended not to see me. Nick gave me a thumbs-up and Samantha Verve gave me the finger. Rosalee was laughing at me. Mr. French stood near an exit, leaning on a broom.
“Our first speaker will be Lauren Anne Fujiyama,” Principal Kostantino was saying, “and the closing speech of your high school careers will be delivered by Zander Rhodes Findley. Miss Fujiyama …”
There were cheers as Lauren stood, but before she could get to the microphone, I leaped up and blocked her. “What are you doing?” she asked, confused.
“It’s okay,” I told her with my hand over the mic. “Trust me. Please,” I begged.
Lauren shook her head, but sat back down.
“Principal Kostantino, Mr. Avis, Lauren, Zander, parents, siblings, relatives, friends, and enemies, my name is Higgs Boson Bing.”
“Dinky Dick!” someone yelled. Principal Kostantino stood and scanned the crowd for the perpetrator. Mr. Avis headed toward me, but Zander body-blocked him. “Let’s hear what Higgs has to say,” he said.
I nodded a thank-you to Zander, and continued. “During my four years at Sally Ride High School, I learned many things. Like what it feels like to be a winner.”
I surveyed the audience. Most of the seniors were goofing off. There was a beach ball being batted around. Paper airplanes punctuated the air. Those who were looking at me seemed bored. Still, I continued, “What I wished I had known earlier was that these are hollow victories without the respect of those who are my teammates and worthy opponents.” Rosalee glared at me. Zander looked interested. Coach Valcorza nodded. My dad took pictures. I kept going.