Odyssey (21 page)

The dream started out normally—a displaced reality far from the province of the world. Sovereign was pushing his grandfather’s wheelchair down the long ribbon of asphalt that bordered the Pacific Ocean. The chair was heavier than usual but the little boy had become a man and so managed with no trouble.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said, Sovy,” Eagle James espoused. “And I do believe you’re right. My son will be hurt by me just shootin’ myself. He won’t know what to do.”

“Thank you, Grandpa Eagle,” the man said with a boy’s deference.

Then the old man, quicker than Sovereign could imagine, pulled out the dark pistol, shoved the barrel up his right nostril with his right hand, and fired. The shot lit up the old man’s right eye like one of the flashbulbs of the boy’s Kodak Brownie camera. Then the blood slithered out, an angry snake chasing the fallen pistol that had disturbed its hibernation.

Sovereign for his part was trying to resolve the conundrum of the right nostril. He thought that the proper place to point the pistol would have been the left side—right hand, left side. If Eagle had made that choice, the proper one, he might not have awakened the snake and would probably have survived.

A child was running, his little feet thudding on the pathway. Looking in the direction of the quick, light steps, Sovereign saw himself as a boy hurrying to his grandfather’s side.

Eagle was dead. And even though Sovereign had returned, and obviously had tried to convince his grandfather to put off the suicide, little Sovereign was still there buying the root beer for him and his grandfather.

Sovereign the man took a step backward and so went unnoticed by the boy, who ran to the wheelchair, stopped, and stared long enough to comprehend what had happened. When the reality of Eagle James’s death settled on the boy he screamed and closed his eyes, fell to the blacktop, and wailed. In the distance Sovereign the man could see people pointing and running his way. The men gathered around the dead man and a white woman picked up the boy, whose eyes
were still closed, and held him to her breast.

“Open your eyes, Sovereign,” Solar James commanded.

“No!”

The boy was lying abed with his mother applying a wet towel to his forehead. Sovereign the man stood still in a quiet corner remembering these events as he saw them. Offeran was right. He had kept his eyes shut for almost a day after seeing that glistening snake, that red ribbon of death. This was his attempt to deny the truth.

“Did you know my father had that pistol?” Solar asked angrily.

“Solar!” Winifred shouted. “Let him be!”

The boy wailed. The man watching the dream-memory turned away. He gritted his teeth, expecting to hear the argument continue, but instead there came a kind of blessed silence.

In his sleep Sovereign realized the connection between sight and sound in his mind. Relief, like that cool towel on the boy’s fever, came to him. He turned back and saw himself as a child awakening in the small bed with the early morning sun peeking in from the window. There was another bed in the room—Drum-Eddie’s. That bed was empty, so little Sovereign jumped out from under the covers. He heard sounds from downstairs and followed them, unaware that he himself was being followed by the full-grown dreamer.

From the turn in the stairs Sovereign found himself looking down at his mother and father, and himself at the age of nineteen.

“He is no longer my son,” Solar James was saying. “He’s a thug and a thief and no longer my son.”

“But you weren’t Grandpa Eagle’s son and he always loved you,” the small boy shouted.

No one heard him.

“That’s some dream,” Seth Offeran said that afternoon. “Any thoughts?”

“I woke up crying. Lucky for me Toni sleeps like a stone.”

“Why lucky? Why shouldn’t she see you cry?”

“Because … I don’t know.… Because …”

Offeran sat back in his chair.

Relieved by the psychiatrist’s silence, Sovereign said, “In the morning, when Toni woke up, we went down the stairway two floors to the kitchen. A biracial woman named Madeline was cleaning. She told us that Monte had left that morning for South America. We offered to pay her for the room but she said that it wasn’t a hotel but a courtesy for favored customers. She said that Monte always stayed with them when he was in town.”

“Strange,” Offeran said.

“I forgot about me shutting my eyes to my grandfather’s suicide. I guess you
were right about the connection. I guess I’m upset at myself for not speaking up for Eddie too. No matter what he did we should have stood by him.”

“Keeping secrets always takes a toll on children,” Offeran said.

When Sovereign felt the tears cascading down his cheeks he shut his eyes tight and clenched his fists.

“But sooner or later,” Offeran continued, “you have to look at what you are and who you are and where—no matter the cost.”

The rage he felt at Lemuel rose up in his chest again. He understood it now. He couldn’t explain but he knew why he’d beaten that boy, battered him. It was a suppressed violence that had always been there, and anger that survived an entire ice age of suppression and false awareness.

“What about Toni Loam?” Offeran asked.

“She’s like me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Looking for the answer to a question she can’t ask. Wanting to be somewhere, but when she gets there wanting something else. Whenever I see that girl, or think about seeing her, my dick gets hard. I’m not even excited, not really, but my dick gets hard like a rock.”

“Does she appreciate your feelings?”

“She knows how she makes me feel. But in a way it’s like I’m one of the courses in a big feast and she’s outside starving.”

“Sounds kind of hopeless,” Offeran said.

“What can I tell you, Doctor? I loved my grandfather and he took his own life almost in front of me. I loved my father and kept from him the greatest secret he’d ever know. I loved my brother and sister but they abandoned me too. And my mother … I haven’t paid her nearly enough of what I owe.”

On the way to the subway from the doctor’s office, Sovereign’s cell phone sounded.

“Yes?”

“Hello, Sovereign, this is Lena.”

He felt dizzy for a moment but then the feeling dissipated.

“How’s my case coming?”

“The prosecutors are moving forward with charges. I’ve got an appointment with Judge Lowell for an arraignment hearing a week from today. You won’t have to go to jail or pay bail, and I want to ask her for a closed hearing with just the judge and no jury.”

“Why?”

“It’s a simple case but very technical. I believe that we can win on the evidence. But I don’t want to make a circus out of it. I believe that Lowell will understand and appreciate our approach and point of view.”

For the time it took to take three breaths Sovereign pretended that he was thinking over Lena Altuna’s logic. But he knew that he couldn’t make any criticism of her claims.

“Do what you think is right, Lena,” he said at last. “I’ll follow along and hope for the best.”

It was near ten that night when Sovereign began to wonder what had happened to Toni. He called her cell phone but it went straight to voice mail. He tried to think of where she might be. He didn’t know her mother’s number or address, not even her first name. Maybe she was at Lemuel’s apartment. She certainly wasn’t at the hospital. Visiting hours were over at nine.

When the landline rang he was certain that it was her calling to apologize or break up, explain that she really was attacking him that day but changed her mind, or maybe to confess her love. She could have said it all with no contradiction.

“Hello?”

“Sovereign … hi.”

“Valentina. Hey … how are you?”

“Is what the paper said true?”

“About me beating a man into a coma? Yes.”

“What happened?”

“You read the papers. They got most of it down. Keep on reading. There’s going to be a trial.”

“I wanted to hear it from you.”

“Why?” Sovereign asked.

A beeping sound came from the earpiece.

“Hold on, Val, I have another call.”

Sovereign tapped the cradle button and said, “Hello?”

“Hello, Sovereign.”

“I’m on another call, Toni. Can I get back to you in five minutes?”

“Okay. I’ll leave my cell phone on.”

He tapped the button again.

“Hey, Valentina, sorry about that.”

“I’m getting back together with Verso,” she said. “We’re going to remarry.”

“Whoa. Congratulations.”

“I need to know that you aren’t going to give us any problems. I mean, he doesn’t know about you and me, but after I read that article …”

“After you read that article what?”

“I don’t want you going off like a wild man attacking Verso.”

I see, said the blind man, though I haven’t any eyes
. It was a phrase Eagle James used to say at moments of sudden insight. The boy Sovereign loved hearing it.

“You think because of those newspaper articles that I might attack your ex-husband?”

“I know it sounds silly but the papers said that that was what you did.”

“Don’t worry, Valentina. I wish you well and I will stay away from Verso.”

“Your blindness is cured?”

“Yeah,” he said, again thinking of his faux grandfather’s saying. “Listen, Valentina, that call that came in was important. I have to return. You take care and don’t worry about me at all.”

“If you need anything you can call me,” she said.

“I won’t.”

“Hi, Sovereign,” Toni said after one ring.

“What’s up?”

“The prosecutor sent the cops to bring me down to his office,” she said. “They told me that either I was gonna testify against you or they was gonna charge me with attempted murder. They said that they could say that I lured Lemuel in there so you could attack him.”

Sovereign wondered about some legal scholar a thousand years in the future looking back on this case. In the future, he thought, human DNA would be mixed with that of other creatures, and human brains would be augmented with tiny living computers that would make thought much easier, clearer, and unbelievably fast. What would this far-flung thinker suppose about lower intellects making up the crime as they executed inept laws?