+. weird, world.
Even MORE post-Weird, World family stuff (as is usually the case, Lizz is mostly to blame for this):
“Liv?”
She looked up from the sink, up to her elbows in suds. “Yeah?”
“I’m gonna go ahead and start the Skype session early.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, catching the edge of his tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just-I think Al’s feeling impatient. I think he’s already waiting for us to call in.”
“Alright. I’ll finish up as quickly as I can.” She glanced over at the calendar stuck to the fridge, held up by a set of Sailor Moon magnets she and Amari had made out of polymer clay last summer. Their standing Skype appointments with Charlie, Rob, and the girls were marked in red; Alberto and Genny’s were in blue; Annie’s in green. It was a wonder they ever had time in the evenings for themselves. Between Skype and the emails they exchanged with Ben’s parents and her old friends from college, half of their lives were full of keeping abreast of everyone else’s.
Ben settled on the couch and angled the laptop. It would be at least another twenty minutes before Gloria got back from the park with the kids-hopefully that would be enough time for Alberto to unburden whatever was on his mind. Barely twenty seconds passed before the former Alligator Boy picked up, his mottled face filling the screen.
“Is everything okay?” Ben asked.
The corner of Alberto’s mouth hiked up, making his jawline look level for a moment. “Should’ve known you’d know,” he said ruefully.
“I don’t really,” Ben clarified. “I’ve just felt antsy all day. Nervous and excited.”
“Well, since there’s no use beating around the bush-Gen and I have been talking a lot, and… We’ve decided we want to adopt. A boy-Dominic? The one we told you about last month? And we wanted to talk to you and Olivia about it, since you’ve had first-hand experience with the process.”
“Absolutely,” Ben said enthusiastically. “Course, it’s a bit different when it’s an international situation. You wouldn’t believe some of the hoops we had to jump through to bring Amari home. Given everything, I can’t see that there’d be that much red tape for you two to wade through.”
“Because I’m sure the system will be happy to hand a kid over to a former carnie and someone who only has a green card through marriage,” Alberto said with unaccustomed cynicism. He rubbed a hand over his face and Ben noticed the dark smudges beneath his eyes, the way his shoulders were slumped.
“Al?”
“Dom’s a really good kid,” he said quietly. “He’s smart, he’s passionate. He already speaks two languages-his Spanish is almost better than mine-and Gen’s got him started on French now. He’s growing like a weed, too. If he doesn’t break six feet by the time he’s fourteen I’ll eat my favorite baseball cap. And you should see Gen with him, Ben. She’s so good at pulling him out of himself when he’s in a mood. The therapist at the home keeps warning us that he’ll be a handful-that she’s seen kids like him go through violent periods and lash out physically when triggered.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?”
“No,” Alberto said without hesitation, shaking his head and settling back on his couch. “Thanks to Akiko, Gen knows how to deal with things like past trauma. Hell, I know how to help someone make a stand against something horrifying. I know we can help Dom when he dwells on what happened; I know we’ll be patient and understanding. What’s bothering me is… There are so many kids, Ben. Kids that never asked for what happened to them, who deserve homes, not just a bed in a dormitory. Every day we go over there and we work with them, we help them, we show them people care and want good things for them-and then we leave them. We come home to a quiet house and feed our fish… When Genny found out about the openings at Saint Mary’s and suggested we apply, I really hesitated. I knew we’d fall in love with those kids and I knew it would tear us up at some point. We can’t bring them all home. But how do we just pick and choose? Like I said, we love all of them in some fashion and it just-is it strange that I feel something like a monster? Like I’m abandoning the others, or betraying their trust? No, no, I know that’s stupid. I’ve seen plenty of the kids go home to great parents, and I rationally know others will come along in time. And Saint Mary’s is hardly a prison; they’re all treated well, taken care of.”
“But it’s not a mother or father’s love,” Ben said knowingly. “It’s impersonal and route. And something tells me that when you and Genny are there you don’t treat them like the other caretakers and teachers do-I know it doesn’t feel like hardly enough, Al, but it makes a difference.”
“How long did it take you?” Alberto asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his chin into one hand. “To know Amari was your son? To know he had to come home with you?”
“I think at some level I knew it the day we met,” Ben said. “I just didn’t consciously realize it until several days had gone by. As is usually the case, it took Olivia pointing it out for me to see the obvious.”
Alberto was quiet, ridged brow furrowed, fingers splayed over his mouth. “Dominic belongs with us,” he said. “And if I have to bench-press a judge or Gen has to burn down the hall of records, he’s coming home as soon as possible.”
“Where is Genny, by the way?”
“Out on a call-the firebug struck again, at an abandoned warehouse a couple miles away. I really hope the police find the guy soon, before she does. At the rate he’s escalating, she might give him a taste of his own medicine before he hurts anybody.”
“Okay, the dishes are sparkling and my hands are officially prunes,” Olivia announced, dropping onto the couch beside her husband. “Hey, Al! What did I miss?”
“How much longer?” Scout whined in the backseat, forehead pressed against the window glass. Her nose bump-bump-bumped over the glass with the shivering of the car, the tip of it a rubbed crimson. Amari dropped the elaborate cat’s cradle he’d woven and reached out to pinch his sister’s arm-she glared at him and he shook his head with a frown, tapping a finger to his lips.
“But we’ve been traveling for hours,” she complained, making an impatient gesture at her patient brother. “First the ride to the airport, then the plane, now the ride from the airport. My legs hurt and my head hurts and I’m tired and I wanna get out and lay down somewhere soft-”
“Jean-Louise, we’re all tired and achy right now,” Olivia said from the driver’s seat, a sharp edge honed to her words. “But we’re practically there-just a couple more miles to go.”
The lull lasted for almost a minute.
“I’m thirsty-”
“Sweetpea, if you don’t calm down and be quiet for just ten minutes, we’re going to leave you at the next gas station,” Ben threatened. “And you can walk the rest of the way to Uncle Al’s, got it?”
Scout mutinously glared out the window.
It wasn’t hard to pick out the house: it was a bright blue bungalow on a street full of beige ranches, driveway and bracketing curbs overflowing with cars, vans, and trucks. Two motorcycles were propped up in the front yard next to a huge saguaro cactus and a half-sized camper-Ben recognized it as Rika and Ernie’s-held place of honor in front of the streamer-and-balloon-bedecked garage. “Looks like the whole carnival’s here,” Olivia said, carefully parallel parking between Montague (the day Charlie retired that antique would be a cold day in hell) and a pick-up truck so rusted the only thing holding it together was fraying duct tape and faded bumper stickers, most advocating SPOCK FOR PREZ, 1988 (IT’S ONLY LOGICAL).
That cactus is taller than Daddy! Amari signed. Did Uncle Al put that face on it?
Ben glanced at the saguaro and laughed: in honor of Halloween, someone had hung a Joker mask over it and topped it with a green wig. It was also ‘holding’ a bunch of foil balloons emblazoned with WELCOME HOME in jubilant primary colors. You’ll have to ask him, he signed back. Ready to meet Dom?
Olivia didn’t bother to knock; from the loud chaos audible within, no one would’ve heard it anyway. And the second she pulled open the door there was a mingled shout of greeting. “Come in, come in!” Rika cried, rushing forward with a glass of punch in hand. “I swear, Olivia, you’re more radiant every time I see you. Oh good Lord, and this is Scout? When did she grow up so much?”
“Do you remember Sylvester?” Ben asked Amari, who was staring up at the strongman with eyes the size of dinner plates. “You rode on his shoulders when we went to the carnival.”
“Pretty soon you’ll be giving me piggyback rides, eh, son?” Sylvester reached down to shake the boy’s hand. “How the hell are you, Ben?”
“Good, good-so where’s the guest of honor?”
“Out back, I think. Or at least he was last I checked-I’ve been taking advantage of the air conditioning. Rode my bike here and I think I sweat off a good ten pounds on the way. Gotta rehydrate,” he lifted his glass of lemonade, “and cool down a bit before I go back out in that sun.”
The backyard was peppered with lawn chairs and folding tables laden with snacks. Ernie had taken up a post beside the row of coolers and was passing out cans of soda and beer.
“So? How’s it feel to be a grandpa?” Ben asked him cheekily, taking a Dr. Pepper.
“Like winnin’ the lottery,” was the reply. The lines on Ernie’s weathered face shifted and settled into a satisfied grin, his pale blue eyes practically disappearing under his crow’s feet. “When Albie brought home Genevieve, something told me it wouldn’t be too awful long of a wait. She had mother written all over her. And that is a girl who knows what she wants-reminds me of Rika, tell the truth. Damn near as pretty, strong-willed and kind-hearted. Wants to make a difference in the world. My boy made a good choice there.”
“So did she,” Ben said. “I don’t know Genny half as well as I’d like to, but I trusted her judgment right away.”
“How was your trip?”
“Scout’s at the whiny age,” Ben said dryly. “She’s usually great when we travel but after today I’m almost looking forward to the sullen teenage stage.”
“Don’t wish for them to grow up too quick,” Ernie warned. “You’re liable to turn around and find it granted. Find yourself lamenting at how the time just slipped away from you…” He looked over towards a table stacked high with presents. Alberto was standing beside it and chatting animatedly with a huge bear of a man in head-to-tie denim and covered in tattoos. “Y’know,” Ernie went on in a faraway tone, “Rika and I never intended to be parents. Never much wanted kids. Never saw ourselves walkin’ the floorboards at midnight and kissin’ scraped knees. And after her cancer scare when we were still just newlyweds, and she had to have her surgery, we thought that put paid to any last doubts. Then… Well, you know that particular story. We woke up the day after the funeral and realized we had a son. Didn’t question it much; mostly because we were just too damned busy. It happened and we rolled with it. And here we are now with a daughter-in-law and a grandson. Ain’t life a funny old thing?”
Ben wondered how Gloria was enjoying her trip: if California still felt like home to her and if she suffered any bittersweet pangs about being back for only a short week; or if she was looking at it with the eyes of a stranger, if she was glad to be visiting with the knowledge that she’d be back home soon enough. “Family’s never just blood,” he said to Ernie, sipping his soda. “Family’s what happens to you along the way, too.”
“Always knew you had an old head on young shoulders,” the older man said, leaning over to clap his shoulder fondly.
“Oh, Livvy, there you are, thank God,” Charlie announced, unceremoniously dumping a sleepy, sweat-damp toddler into her lap. “Hold Dani for a mo-my back is killing me.”
Olivia deftly rearranged her niece into a more comfortable position and exchanged a bemused look with Rika. “Hello, Charlotte, nice to see you, and how are you today?”
“I’m very seriously considering nipping down to the liquor store and getting a keg,” Charlie said, stretching until her joints popped. “Just caught Bills scarfing down a huge mouthful of sand-she said, oh so blithely, that she wanted to see why earthworms liked it so much. Rob’s washing her mouth out with Listerine. God only knows how much bacteria and nasty shit she swallowed.”
“The joys of motherhood,” Olivia said. “And to think you were so against having such experiences.”
“I’m just glad this one,” she nodded at Dani, “is such a lamb. Makes up for her hellion of a sister.”
“You mean Billie’s the spitting image of you and Danielle was graced with your brother’s calm nature.”
The picture of mature adulthood, Charlie stuck out her tongue. “I’m just saying that the next time I catch Billie eating something she shouldn’t I’d rather it be candy and not something she literally dug out of the ground.”
“Every kid eats their weight in dirt by the time they’re five,” Rika said. “Good for building up the immune system. Gives their digestive tract a challenge. It’s either that or Play-Doh, and the former’s probably safer in the long run. Can I get you ladies anything? Another glass? Something to nibble on? We’ll probably be cutting the cake soon, now that everyone’s here.”
“I do want to properly meet the young man of the hour,” Olivia said, craning her head to look out the window. “Gosh, this is quite the crowd. Hope it’s not too overwhelming for him.”
“He actually wanted a big party,” Rika said. “Albie and Gen asked him if he’d rather do something quiet and more private-like a fancy dinner with just the immediate family-or if he wanted a piñata and games and everyone there and he picked the latter. Quite the little extrovert, our Dom. He was like a wound spring ready to explode all morning before the first round of guests arrived.”
“I see Ben,” Olivia said, standing with Dani in her arms. “But where have my children got to…?”
Amari and Scout stared up at the huge pumpkin-shaped piñata hanging from the pole. It was the biggest piñata they’d ever seen, bigger even than Amari’s Stitch back home. “How many pieces of candy do you think are in that?” Scout asked, awed.
Two hundred at least, Amari signed. Or maybe there’s full-sized candy bars inside.
“Wow. I hope I get a chance to hit it.”
“You can go first if you want.”
Scout twisted sharply on her heel. A boy a couple years older and several inches taller smiled at her. There was a gap in his teeth. His skin was a touch lighter than Amari’s, but his hair was just as dark and kinky. Unlike Amari’s, though, his wasn’t buzzed down short. It stood out at least two inches from his head in a fuzzy nimbus. He was wearing khaki shorts, flip-flops, and a pale blue tank top. And he had a Batman temporary tattoo on his right arm.
“You’re Dominic,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Scout,” she said loudly, hooking her thumb towards her chest. “And this is my big brother Amari.”
Amari waved.
“What were you doing with your hands?” Dominic asked.
“He was talking. Amari doesn’t use his mouth, he uses his hands.”
“You can talk with hands?”
“Sure you can,” Scout said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s called ASL. That stands for American Sign Language. ‘Mari and I both learned when we were babies.”
“Could you teach me?”
“Right now?” Scout said, nonplussed.
“Sure. Like… How do you say hello and goodbye?”
“…really wanted to make it, but they just couldn’t. Akiko’s grandfather took a turn for the worst yesterday morning and she didn’t want to leave him until he’s out of the woods. They said there should be a package arriving from them in the next week or so, though, and to keep an eye out for it,” Robbie was telling Genny as they maneuvered through the crowd, Billie skipping along in their wake and dragging on her father’s hand.
“Bless, that was kind of them,” Genny replied, reaching up to tuck a limp reddish curl back under her bandana. “Though they didn’t have to trouble themselves. Judging by the way that table’s buckling, I think he’ll have more than enough things to occupy him.”
“How’s he settling in? It’s been a week now, right?”
“I was worried it would be an awkward transition,” she said. “And I was so relieved when it wasn’t. He had been over so often for the last few months that everything is already familiar to him. He knows which cupboard has the cereal bowls and how to work the remote control for the television. The day we asked him how he’d feel if we adopted him, the next words out of his mouth were, ‘Can I call you Mom and Dad now?’”
She stopped and laid a hand on Robbie’s arm. “Do you ever find yourself just… Staring at the things around you? Wondering how you got there? Yesterday I was in Russia. The day before that I lived in a Métro station. I had a Bible, a rosary, and four changes of clothes. Now I have a house-my name is on the papers-and I am in Texas. I have a husband and a son.”
Robbie took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Yesterday I was in a car on a rainy night and I had never seen a ghost,” he said quietly. “I know what you mean. And then I blink, shake my head, and stop looking behind me.”
“Yes. But I will look back from time to time,” Genny said. “Some of it should be remembered. And in the spring I am taking Dominic-” the name rolled off her tongue, made musical by her accent, “-to Paris. To Haven. Valerius is to be his godfather. And he must see Notre Dame.” She blinked, eyes over-bright for a few seconds, and yet again Robbie was impressed by her resilience. Genevieve had always been asked to sacrifice so much, and yet she carried on resolutely regardless. He knew she was happy with Alberto and the life they had created but it was an inescapable fact: this was not her country. Every day she had to look out on streets that would never be hers the way Paris’ alleys had been hers; had to speak and hear a foreign tongue; had to live thousands of kilometers removed from the people she still felt responsible for.
Some of his thoughts must have shown, because she smiled suddenly. “We send money every month,” she said. “It’s not a lot, but it helps. Now then. Enough of being maudlin. This is a celebration today, for my son. And we should really be cutting that great cake. Will you help me bring it out?”
As they stepped through the back door into the kitchen, Genny caught Alberto’s eye and nodded meaningfully. He scanned the crowd and quickly honed in on the small trio by the piñata rack. The kids looked up as he jogged over, Dominic’s fingers hesitating in mid-sign.
“Hey, guys!” Alberto said cheerfully, bending down to hug Amari, then Scout. “I see I don’t need to make any introductions. Having fun?”
“Dad, look, this means ‘Which superhero do you like? Batman is my favorite’,” Dominic said eagerly, hands moving confidently. “Do you or Mom know how to sign?”
“I know a bit, don’t I, Amari?” Alberto said. “But I’m not fluent by any means. I take it you want to learn more?”
Dominic nodded. “And Scout says her Aunt Charlie knows German and Russian and Hindi and a bunch of others-maybe she could teach me?”
“How about I ask her if she’ll lend you her Rosetta Stone stuff?” Alberto suggested. “That’s how she learned.” Well, that and an ability to pick things up without even really trying, he added silently to himself. He didn’t think Dom was Gifted-the boy was just a sponge when it came to languages and sharp as a straight razor. Given his passion, he’d probably have it all down almost as quickly as Charlie had managed. It was certainly a skill and interest worth cultivating: being multilingual opened all sorts of doors in life. “You guys can work on your signing in a little bit, though, because right now it’s cake time.”
“And then it’ll be piñata time?” Scout asked hopefully.
Amari looked at her pointedly and signed, This is Dominic’s party, Sissy. We should do what he wants to do.
“Yeah, I know, but I bet Dom wants to do the piñata next, right?” Scout insisted, undeterred. “Why else would there be a piñata?”
The enormous yellow sheet cake had a Batmobile outlined across it in black icing; beneath that were the words WELCOME HOME, DOMINIC LEVON FONTANA. Cameras flashed as the nine-year-old cut the first slice, grinning from ear to ear, and then insisted that his Mom take the first plate. There were several claps when they compromised and split it, each taking a side and racing to the middle. When everyone had scraped their paper plates clean of frosting, Sylvester and Zonko the Clown going back for seconds, the kids made a rush for the piñata, Scout leading the charge with wiffle bat already in hand.
“Jean-Louise, you let Dominic go first!” Olivia shouted in exasperation.
Then it was time for the gifts. There was a remote control plane from Ernie that fired foam missiles, handmade from scrap metal and cannibalized computer parts. A full set of sports equipment-balls, bats, racquets, clubs-courtesy of the carnival folks. A large box of shirts and baseball caps, many emblazoned with the Batman symbol, from Rika. A stack of movies from Charlie and Robbie-“All the greats we grew up with,” Charlie clarified. “The Princess Bride and The Three Musketeers, some Doctor Who and Disney, Zorro, all sorts of sweet stuff.”-and a nice art kit from Olivia and Ben, stocked with all of the necessities. And from his new parents there was a black leather bible, his name and birthday printed in gold on the first page, and a slick new library card.
And then the huge man covered in tattoos stepped forward. Olivia thought he had been with the carnival group; he certainly looked like he had come straight from a sideshow performance, in his denim duster and leather top hat. An elaborate brace on his right leg creaked like the Tin Man’s joints. His white beard covered his barrel chest, his eyes were invisible behind smoked sunglasses, and his gray and white-streaked hair fell down to his waist, tied back into a narrow braid.
“Sometimes,” he announced in a booming, gravelly voice. “A man needs time to be alone and think his thoughts over. Sometimes it’s handy to have a speedy means of escape. And sometimes the world makes more sense when you’re moving really fast. To that end, I’ve got a little somethin’ by the garage for you, sonny.”
Dominic returned with a whoop, wheeling the fanciest bicycle imaginable. It was red and chrome and polished to a mirror shine. It looked fast. There was a compass set into the base of the handlebars, which were wrapped in black leather, and a horn that made a satisfying whooooga-ooga! sound.
“She’s yours on three conditions, boy,” the giant said. Dominic stared up at him solemnly. “One, that you always wear a helmet. Two, that you always tell your folks where it is you’re going, even if you’re cross with them. And three, that you keep her in good kit. That means polishin’ her when she gets dull, and fillin’ them tires when they go flat, and always settin’ her on her kickstand rather than droppin’ her on the ground. I can’t abide people who treat their things like trash and neither should you. Everything should be handled with respect, and that goes for objects and livin’ things all the same. Understood?”
Dominic nodded.
“Alright then. She’s yours. Treat her well and she’ll do the same for you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nah, nah, none of that,” the giant chuckled. “I ain’t no sir. Just call me Sandman, bud. Just Sandman’ll do. Oh, and ‘fore I forget, here’s a little somethin’ to clip to your spokes. Ain’t a real bike without a bit of noise.” He reached up and pulled a Tarot card from the band of his hat, stooping down with a metallic creak to affix it to the back spokes with a clothespin that seemed to appear out of thin air. “That’s from our Fall friend. A little talisman to keep ya safe.”
“So that’s Sandman,” Olivia said to Alberto when the party settled back into conversation. One of the acrobats started showing Dominic how to juggle with a baseball, tennis ball, and racquet ball. “Should’ve guessed.”
“How many six-and-a-half foot tall bearded tattooed bikers with leg braces do you think are in the world?” Alberto said dryly.
“More than we’d expect, I’m sure.” Olivia smiled to herself, inordinately amused that of those gathered, the carnie folks were technically the normal ones.
“Liv?”
She looked up from the sink, up to her elbows in suds. “Yeah?”
“I’m gonna go ahead and start the Skype session early.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, catching the edge of his tone. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just-I think Al’s feeling impatient. I think he’s already waiting for us to call in.”
“Alright. I’ll finish up as quickly as I can.” She glanced over at the calendar stuck to the fridge, held up by a set of Sailor Moon magnets she and Amari had made out of polymer clay last summer. Their standing Skype appointments with Charlie, Rob, and the girls were marked in red; Alberto and Genny’s were in blue; Annie’s in green. It was a wonder they ever had time in the evenings for themselves. Between Skype and the emails they exchanged with Ben’s parents and her old friends from college, half of their lives were full of keeping abreast of everyone else’s.
Ben settled on the couch and angled the laptop. It would be at least another twenty minutes before Gloria got back from the park with the kids-hopefully that would be enough time for Alberto to unburden whatever was on his mind. Barely twenty seconds passed before the former Alligator Boy picked up, his mottled face filling the screen.
“Is everything okay?” Ben asked.
The corner of Alberto’s mouth hiked up, making his jawline look level for a moment. “Should’ve known you’d know,” he said ruefully.
“I don’t really,” Ben clarified. “I’ve just felt antsy all day. Nervous and excited.”
“Well, since there’s no use beating around the bush-Gen and I have been talking a lot, and… We’ve decided we want to adopt. A boy-Dominic? The one we told you about last month? And we wanted to talk to you and Olivia about it, since you’ve had first-hand experience with the process.”
“Absolutely,” Ben said enthusiastically. “Course, it’s a bit different when it’s an international situation. You wouldn’t believe some of the hoops we had to jump through to bring Amari home. Given everything, I can’t see that there’d be that much red tape for you two to wade through.”
“Because I’m sure the system will be happy to hand a kid over to a former carnie and someone who only has a green card through marriage,” Alberto said with unaccustomed cynicism. He rubbed a hand over his face and Ben noticed the dark smudges beneath his eyes, the way his shoulders were slumped.
“Al?”
“Dom’s a really good kid,” he said quietly. “He’s smart, he’s passionate. He already speaks two languages-his Spanish is almost better than mine-and Gen’s got him started on French now. He’s growing like a weed, too. If he doesn’t break six feet by the time he’s fourteen I’ll eat my favorite baseball cap. And you should see Gen with him, Ben. She’s so good at pulling him out of himself when he’s in a mood. The therapist at the home keeps warning us that he’ll be a handful-that she’s seen kids like him go through violent periods and lash out physically when triggered.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?”
“No,” Alberto said without hesitation, shaking his head and settling back on his couch. “Thanks to Akiko, Gen knows how to deal with things like past trauma. Hell, I know how to help someone make a stand against something horrifying. I know we can help Dom when he dwells on what happened; I know we’ll be patient and understanding. What’s bothering me is… There are so many kids, Ben. Kids that never asked for what happened to them, who deserve homes, not just a bed in a dormitory. Every day we go over there and we work with them, we help them, we show them people care and want good things for them-and then we leave them. We come home to a quiet house and feed our fish… When Genny found out about the openings at Saint Mary’s and suggested we apply, I really hesitated. I knew we’d fall in love with those kids and I knew it would tear us up at some point. We can’t bring them all home. But how do we just pick and choose? Like I said, we love all of them in some fashion and it just-is it strange that I feel something like a monster? Like I’m abandoning the others, or betraying their trust? No, no, I know that’s stupid. I’ve seen plenty of the kids go home to great parents, and I rationally know others will come along in time. And Saint Mary’s is hardly a prison; they’re all treated well, taken care of.”
“But it’s not a mother or father’s love,” Ben said knowingly. “It’s impersonal and route. And something tells me that when you and Genny are there you don’t treat them like the other caretakers and teachers do-I know it doesn’t feel like hardly enough, Al, but it makes a difference.”
“How long did it take you?” Alberto asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his chin into one hand. “To know Amari was your son? To know he had to come home with you?”
“I think at some level I knew it the day we met,” Ben said. “I just didn’t consciously realize it until several days had gone by. As is usually the case, it took Olivia pointing it out for me to see the obvious.”
Alberto was quiet, ridged brow furrowed, fingers splayed over his mouth. “Dominic belongs with us,” he said. “And if I have to bench-press a judge or Gen has to burn down the hall of records, he’s coming home as soon as possible.”
“Where is Genny, by the way?”
“Out on a call-the firebug struck again, at an abandoned warehouse a couple miles away. I really hope the police find the guy soon, before she does. At the rate he’s escalating, she might give him a taste of his own medicine before he hurts anybody.”
“Okay, the dishes are sparkling and my hands are officially prunes,” Olivia announced, dropping onto the couch beside her husband. “Hey, Al! What did I miss?”
“How much longer?” Scout whined in the backseat, forehead pressed against the window glass. Her nose bump-bump-bumped over the glass with the shivering of the car, the tip of it a rubbed crimson. Amari dropped the elaborate cat’s cradle he’d woven and reached out to pinch his sister’s arm-she glared at him and he shook his head with a frown, tapping a finger to his lips.
“But we’ve been traveling for hours,” she complained, making an impatient gesture at her patient brother. “First the ride to the airport, then the plane, now the ride from the airport. My legs hurt and my head hurts and I’m tired and I wanna get out and lay down somewhere soft-”
“Jean-Louise, we’re all tired and achy right now,” Olivia said from the driver’s seat, a sharp edge honed to her words. “But we’re practically there-just a couple more miles to go.”
The lull lasted for almost a minute.
“I’m thirsty-”
“Sweetpea, if you don’t calm down and be quiet for just ten minutes, we’re going to leave you at the next gas station,” Ben threatened. “And you can walk the rest of the way to Uncle Al’s, got it?”
Scout mutinously glared out the window.
It wasn’t hard to pick out the house: it was a bright blue bungalow on a street full of beige ranches, driveway and bracketing curbs overflowing with cars, vans, and trucks. Two motorcycles were propped up in the front yard next to a huge saguaro cactus and a half-sized camper-Ben recognized it as Rika and Ernie’s-held place of honor in front of the streamer-and-balloon-bedecked garage. “Looks like the whole carnival’s here,” Olivia said, carefully parallel parking between Montague (the day Charlie retired that antique would be a cold day in hell) and a pick-up truck so rusted the only thing holding it together was fraying duct tape and faded bumper stickers, most advocating SPOCK FOR PREZ, 1988 (IT’S ONLY LOGICAL).
That cactus is taller than Daddy! Amari signed. Did Uncle Al put that face on it?
Ben glanced at the saguaro and laughed: in honor of Halloween, someone had hung a Joker mask over it and topped it with a green wig. It was also ‘holding’ a bunch of foil balloons emblazoned with WELCOME HOME in jubilant primary colors. You’ll have to ask him, he signed back. Ready to meet Dom?
Olivia didn’t bother to knock; from the loud chaos audible within, no one would’ve heard it anyway. And the second she pulled open the door there was a mingled shout of greeting. “Come in, come in!” Rika cried, rushing forward with a glass of punch in hand. “I swear, Olivia, you’re more radiant every time I see you. Oh good Lord, and this is Scout? When did she grow up so much?”
“Do you remember Sylvester?” Ben asked Amari, who was staring up at the strongman with eyes the size of dinner plates. “You rode on his shoulders when we went to the carnival.”
“Pretty soon you’ll be giving me piggyback rides, eh, son?” Sylvester reached down to shake the boy’s hand. “How the hell are you, Ben?”
“Good, good-so where’s the guest of honor?”
“Out back, I think. Or at least he was last I checked-I’ve been taking advantage of the air conditioning. Rode my bike here and I think I sweat off a good ten pounds on the way. Gotta rehydrate,” he lifted his glass of lemonade, “and cool down a bit before I go back out in that sun.”
The backyard was peppered with lawn chairs and folding tables laden with snacks. Ernie had taken up a post beside the row of coolers and was passing out cans of soda and beer.
“So? How’s it feel to be a grandpa?” Ben asked him cheekily, taking a Dr. Pepper.
“Like winnin’ the lottery,” was the reply. The lines on Ernie’s weathered face shifted and settled into a satisfied grin, his pale blue eyes practically disappearing under his crow’s feet. “When Albie brought home Genevieve, something told me it wouldn’t be too awful long of a wait. She had mother written all over her. And that is a girl who knows what she wants-reminds me of Rika, tell the truth. Damn near as pretty, strong-willed and kind-hearted. Wants to make a difference in the world. My boy made a good choice there.”
“So did she,” Ben said. “I don’t know Genny half as well as I’d like to, but I trusted her judgment right away.”
“How was your trip?”
“Scout’s at the whiny age,” Ben said dryly. “She’s usually great when we travel but after today I’m almost looking forward to the sullen teenage stage.”
“Don’t wish for them to grow up too quick,” Ernie warned. “You’re liable to turn around and find it granted. Find yourself lamenting at how the time just slipped away from you…” He looked over towards a table stacked high with presents. Alberto was standing beside it and chatting animatedly with a huge bear of a man in head-to-tie denim and covered in tattoos. “Y’know,” Ernie went on in a faraway tone, “Rika and I never intended to be parents. Never much wanted kids. Never saw ourselves walkin’ the floorboards at midnight and kissin’ scraped knees. And after her cancer scare when we were still just newlyweds, and she had to have her surgery, we thought that put paid to any last doubts. Then… Well, you know that particular story. We woke up the day after the funeral and realized we had a son. Didn’t question it much; mostly because we were just too damned busy. It happened and we rolled with it. And here we are now with a daughter-in-law and a grandson. Ain’t life a funny old thing?”
Ben wondered how Gloria was enjoying her trip: if California still felt like home to her and if she suffered any bittersweet pangs about being back for only a short week; or if she was looking at it with the eyes of a stranger, if she was glad to be visiting with the knowledge that she’d be back home soon enough. “Family’s never just blood,” he said to Ernie, sipping his soda. “Family’s what happens to you along the way, too.”
“Always knew you had an old head on young shoulders,” the older man said, leaning over to clap his shoulder fondly.
“Oh, Livvy, there you are, thank God,” Charlie announced, unceremoniously dumping a sleepy, sweat-damp toddler into her lap. “Hold Dani for a mo-my back is killing me.”
Olivia deftly rearranged her niece into a more comfortable position and exchanged a bemused look with Rika. “Hello, Charlotte, nice to see you, and how are you today?”
“I’m very seriously considering nipping down to the liquor store and getting a keg,” Charlie said, stretching until her joints popped. “Just caught Bills scarfing down a huge mouthful of sand-she said, oh so blithely, that she wanted to see why earthworms liked it so much. Rob’s washing her mouth out with Listerine. God only knows how much bacteria and nasty shit she swallowed.”
“The joys of motherhood,” Olivia said. “And to think you were so against having such experiences.”
“I’m just glad this one,” she nodded at Dani, “is such a lamb. Makes up for her hellion of a sister.”
“You mean Billie’s the spitting image of you and Danielle was graced with your brother’s calm nature.”
The picture of mature adulthood, Charlie stuck out her tongue. “I’m just saying that the next time I catch Billie eating something she shouldn’t I’d rather it be candy and not something she literally dug out of the ground.”
“Every kid eats their weight in dirt by the time they’re five,” Rika said. “Good for building up the immune system. Gives their digestive tract a challenge. It’s either that or Play-Doh, and the former’s probably safer in the long run. Can I get you ladies anything? Another glass? Something to nibble on? We’ll probably be cutting the cake soon, now that everyone’s here.”
“I do want to properly meet the young man of the hour,” Olivia said, craning her head to look out the window. “Gosh, this is quite the crowd. Hope it’s not too overwhelming for him.”
“He actually wanted a big party,” Rika said. “Albie and Gen asked him if he’d rather do something quiet and more private-like a fancy dinner with just the immediate family-or if he wanted a piñata and games and everyone there and he picked the latter. Quite the little extrovert, our Dom. He was like a wound spring ready to explode all morning before the first round of guests arrived.”
“I see Ben,” Olivia said, standing with Dani in her arms. “But where have my children got to…?”
Amari and Scout stared up at the huge pumpkin-shaped piñata hanging from the pole. It was the biggest piñata they’d ever seen, bigger even than Amari’s Stitch back home. “How many pieces of candy do you think are in that?” Scout asked, awed.
Two hundred at least, Amari signed. Or maybe there’s full-sized candy bars inside.
“Wow. I hope I get a chance to hit it.”
“You can go first if you want.”
Scout twisted sharply on her heel. A boy a couple years older and several inches taller smiled at her. There was a gap in his teeth. His skin was a touch lighter than Amari’s, but his hair was just as dark and kinky. Unlike Amari’s, though, his wasn’t buzzed down short. It stood out at least two inches from his head in a fuzzy nimbus. He was wearing khaki shorts, flip-flops, and a pale blue tank top. And he had a Batman temporary tattoo on his right arm.
“You’re Dominic,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Scout,” she said loudly, hooking her thumb towards her chest. “And this is my big brother Amari.”
Amari waved.
“What were you doing with your hands?” Dominic asked.
“He was talking. Amari doesn’t use his mouth, he uses his hands.”
“You can talk with hands?”
“Sure you can,” Scout said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s called ASL. That stands for American Sign Language. ‘Mari and I both learned when we were babies.”
“Could you teach me?”
“Right now?” Scout said, nonplussed.
“Sure. Like… How do you say hello and goodbye?”
“…really wanted to make it, but they just couldn’t. Akiko’s grandfather took a turn for the worst yesterday morning and she didn’t want to leave him until he’s out of the woods. They said there should be a package arriving from them in the next week or so, though, and to keep an eye out for it,” Robbie was telling Genny as they maneuvered through the crowd, Billie skipping along in their wake and dragging on her father’s hand.
“Bless, that was kind of them,” Genny replied, reaching up to tuck a limp reddish curl back under her bandana. “Though they didn’t have to trouble themselves. Judging by the way that table’s buckling, I think he’ll have more than enough things to occupy him.”
“How’s he settling in? It’s been a week now, right?”
“I was worried it would be an awkward transition,” she said. “And I was so relieved when it wasn’t. He had been over so often for the last few months that everything is already familiar to him. He knows which cupboard has the cereal bowls and how to work the remote control for the television. The day we asked him how he’d feel if we adopted him, the next words out of his mouth were, ‘Can I call you Mom and Dad now?’”
She stopped and laid a hand on Robbie’s arm. “Do you ever find yourself just… Staring at the things around you? Wondering how you got there? Yesterday I was in Russia. The day before that I lived in a Métro station. I had a Bible, a rosary, and four changes of clothes. Now I have a house-my name is on the papers-and I am in Texas. I have a husband and a son.”
Robbie took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Yesterday I was in a car on a rainy night and I had never seen a ghost,” he said quietly. “I know what you mean. And then I blink, shake my head, and stop looking behind me.”
“Yes. But I will look back from time to time,” Genny said. “Some of it should be remembered. And in the spring I am taking Dominic-” the name rolled off her tongue, made musical by her accent, “-to Paris. To Haven. Valerius is to be his godfather. And he must see Notre Dame.” She blinked, eyes over-bright for a few seconds, and yet again Robbie was impressed by her resilience. Genevieve had always been asked to sacrifice so much, and yet she carried on resolutely regardless. He knew she was happy with Alberto and the life they had created but it was an inescapable fact: this was not her country. Every day she had to look out on streets that would never be hers the way Paris’ alleys had been hers; had to speak and hear a foreign tongue; had to live thousands of kilometers removed from the people she still felt responsible for.
Some of his thoughts must have shown, because she smiled suddenly. “We send money every month,” she said. “It’s not a lot, but it helps. Now then. Enough of being maudlin. This is a celebration today, for my son. And we should really be cutting that great cake. Will you help me bring it out?”
As they stepped through the back door into the kitchen, Genny caught Alberto’s eye and nodded meaningfully. He scanned the crowd and quickly honed in on the small trio by the piñata rack. The kids looked up as he jogged over, Dominic’s fingers hesitating in mid-sign.
“Hey, guys!” Alberto said cheerfully, bending down to hug Amari, then Scout. “I see I don’t need to make any introductions. Having fun?”
“Dad, look, this means ‘Which superhero do you like? Batman is my favorite’,” Dominic said eagerly, hands moving confidently. “Do you or Mom know how to sign?”
“I know a bit, don’t I, Amari?” Alberto said. “But I’m not fluent by any means. I take it you want to learn more?”
Dominic nodded. “And Scout says her Aunt Charlie knows German and Russian and Hindi and a bunch of others-maybe she could teach me?”
“How about I ask her if she’ll lend you her Rosetta Stone stuff?” Alberto suggested. “That’s how she learned.” Well, that and an ability to pick things up without even really trying, he added silently to himself. He didn’t think Dom was Gifted-the boy was just a sponge when it came to languages and sharp as a straight razor. Given his passion, he’d probably have it all down almost as quickly as Charlie had managed. It was certainly a skill and interest worth cultivating: being multilingual opened all sorts of doors in life. “You guys can work on your signing in a little bit, though, because right now it’s cake time.”
“And then it’ll be piñata time?” Scout asked hopefully.
Amari looked at her pointedly and signed, This is Dominic’s party, Sissy. We should do what he wants to do.
“Yeah, I know, but I bet Dom wants to do the piñata next, right?” Scout insisted, undeterred. “Why else would there be a piñata?”
The enormous yellow sheet cake had a Batmobile outlined across it in black icing; beneath that were the words WELCOME HOME, DOMINIC LEVON FONTANA. Cameras flashed as the nine-year-old cut the first slice, grinning from ear to ear, and then insisted that his Mom take the first plate. There were several claps when they compromised and split it, each taking a side and racing to the middle. When everyone had scraped their paper plates clean of frosting, Sylvester and Zonko the Clown going back for seconds, the kids made a rush for the piñata, Scout leading the charge with wiffle bat already in hand.
“Jean-Louise, you let Dominic go first!” Olivia shouted in exasperation.
Then it was time for the gifts. There was a remote control plane from Ernie that fired foam missiles, handmade from scrap metal and cannibalized computer parts. A full set of sports equipment-balls, bats, racquets, clubs-courtesy of the carnival folks. A large box of shirts and baseball caps, many emblazoned with the Batman symbol, from Rika. A stack of movies from Charlie and Robbie-“All the greats we grew up with,” Charlie clarified. “The Princess Bride and The Three Musketeers, some Doctor Who and Disney, Zorro, all sorts of sweet stuff.”-and a nice art kit from Olivia and Ben, stocked with all of the necessities. And from his new parents there was a black leather bible, his name and birthday printed in gold on the first page, and a slick new library card.
And then the huge man covered in tattoos stepped forward. Olivia thought he had been with the carnival group; he certainly looked like he had come straight from a sideshow performance, in his denim duster and leather top hat. An elaborate brace on his right leg creaked like the Tin Man’s joints. His white beard covered his barrel chest, his eyes were invisible behind smoked sunglasses, and his gray and white-streaked hair fell down to his waist, tied back into a narrow braid.
“Sometimes,” he announced in a booming, gravelly voice. “A man needs time to be alone and think his thoughts over. Sometimes it’s handy to have a speedy means of escape. And sometimes the world makes more sense when you’re moving really fast. To that end, I’ve got a little somethin’ by the garage for you, sonny.”
Dominic returned with a whoop, wheeling the fanciest bicycle imaginable. It was red and chrome and polished to a mirror shine. It looked fast. There was a compass set into the base of the handlebars, which were wrapped in black leather, and a horn that made a satisfying whooooga-ooga! sound.
“She’s yours on three conditions, boy,” the giant said. Dominic stared up at him solemnly. “One, that you always wear a helmet. Two, that you always tell your folks where it is you’re going, even if you’re cross with them. And three, that you keep her in good kit. That means polishin’ her when she gets dull, and fillin’ them tires when they go flat, and always settin’ her on her kickstand rather than droppin’ her on the ground. I can’t abide people who treat their things like trash and neither should you. Everything should be handled with respect, and that goes for objects and livin’ things all the same. Understood?”
Dominic nodded.
“Alright then. She’s yours. Treat her well and she’ll do the same for you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nah, nah, none of that,” the giant chuckled. “I ain’t no sir. Just call me Sandman, bud. Just Sandman’ll do. Oh, and ‘fore I forget, here’s a little somethin’ to clip to your spokes. Ain’t a real bike without a bit of noise.” He reached up and pulled a Tarot card from the band of his hat, stooping down with a metallic creak to affix it to the back spokes with a clothespin that seemed to appear out of thin air. “That’s from our Fall friend. A little talisman to keep ya safe.”
“So that’s Sandman,” Olivia said to Alberto when the party settled back into conversation. One of the acrobats started showing Dominic how to juggle with a baseball, tennis ball, and racquet ball. “Should’ve guessed.”
“How many six-and-a-half foot tall bearded tattooed bikers with leg braces do you think are in the world?” Alberto said dryly.
“More than we’d expect, I’m sure.” Olivia smiled to herself, inordinately amused that of those gathered, the carnie folks were technically the normal ones.