The Dope Thief (21 page)

They drove for a while, the windows open, music low. There was a blare of horns and Ray swerved, fought for a second to hold the road.

“Shit!” A car loomed on the left , shot past. They heard the kids inside shriek; saw the soap on the windows. GOOD LUCK! CLASS OF 1994. He lifted his fist. “Goddamn kids today.”

“Careful, hon. You just stole this car you and don’t want to crack it up already.”

He shook his head. “ You think you’re superbad?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, shook her head.

“So,” he said, “Cornell, full ride?”

“ Yes, and you know who got me in?”

“ You got you in. You worked hard for that.”

“I did, but it was Farah Haddad who wrote this absolutely incredible letter for me.”

“Huh.”

“I know you didn’t think much of her, Ray, but she really stuck it out for me.”

“Well, that’s good. Not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“You know, she also told me she thought you were the brightest boy she had in years.”

He made a noise. “Really? A C or something would have been a good way to show it. She failed me.”

“ ’Cause you didn’t give a shit, pardon my French.”

“ Yeah, well, what the fuck.”

“Exactly.” She shook her head. “And you practically wrote that paper for me on Vonnegut. Out of your head.”

“It was easy.”

“Not for everyone, Ray, for you. Because you’re smart. You think. All I did was add punctuation to what you told me and I got an A off McGlone. And he doesn’t give A’s.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

“It should have been yours! You should have kept it together and stayed in school and gotten your own damn A’s.”

“Hon, we can’t just fight when we’re together. All we got is what? A month or two and you’ll be off to school?”

“And then what? For you, I mean? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. A buddy of my dad’s said he might be able to get me something down the quarry.”

They came to a light, and she moved across the wide seat of the Lincoln and put his arm over her shoulder and laid her head against him.

“You can be more, Ray. Everyone knows it.”

“No, no one knows it. I’ll be okay. And you’ll be off to see the world. Get that degree, man, there’ll be no stopping you.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“Is there a quarry in Ithaca?”

“Raymond, will you please?”

“Oh, Marletta, this is the way it is. Guys like me knock around, get work at the filling station or a factory shop. And the brilliant girls they fall for go off to Cornell and become doctors and lawyers.”

“Oh, I am leaving. Do you know why?” She lifted her head and poked him hard under the ribs.

“Shit! That hurt. Anyway, why wouldn’t you?”

“I would stay for you, Ray. I love you, you . . . dumb-ass.”

“Now you sound like Bart. The dumb- ass part, not the love part.”

“Is that who screwed you up so bad?” She watched his eyes. “Was it Bart beating you and your mom, or going to jail? Or your mom leaving?”

“Now you sound like the social worker at the Youth Authority.”

“Well? What did you say to the social worker?”

“I don’t know, Mars, I’m not the kind likes to dwell on the past. You know me, I’m more of an accentuate- the- positive sort of guy.”

“Yeah, that’s you all over.”

“What? I do nothing but smile when I’m with you. I think sometimes I must look like I’m retarded.”

“You say that, but what good does it do, Ray?”

“It does me all the good in the world.”

“Really? ’Cause to me it looks like a waste of time.” She slid across the seat and put her hand on the door.

He sat up and his voice was low in his throat. “A waste?”

They turned into the parking lot at Lake Galena, and he had barely pulled into a spot when she got out and slammed the door. She walked down the short hill without looking back, and he got out and closed the door and trailed after her, his hands stuffed in his jeans.

He got close to where she was picking stones out of the dirt and trying to skim them, the loose sleeves of the gown flapping. The first one shot in at a hard angle and splashed her. He sat on the grass a few yards behind her. “ You got to lean, hon. Get your arm parallel to the water.”

“I know how to skim rocks, thanks. I need to know how to steal a car you’ll be the first one I call.”

“Mars.”

The next rock she threw hard, and it arced out over the lake, a long high course that ended with a small splash. “You told me you thought I was beautiful.”

“You are. The most beautifu l girl I’ve ever seen.”

She turned to him and sighed. “See? You say that and I am beautiful. I feel beautiful.” She lifted her arms. “And smart and capable and all the things you ever said to me, they . . .” She shrugged. “They helped me to be all those things. They made me see myself differently.”

“I did that.”

“Not just you. Farah Haddad, too. And Mrs. Cross, from the

gym. Even Stanard Hicks, in his way.” She sat down facing him in

the grass. “But when I say what I see in you, when I tell you that you

can do things, can be things, it’s just, I don’t know. Wasted breath.”

“It’s not’”

“Yeah, it is.” She dropped her head. “I tell you you’re smart, you break into a house and nearly get shot. I tell you I love you and you steal a car and get sent away for three months.”

“That’s not your fault, Mars. You can’t think that.”

“I know it’s not, Ray. It’s something in you. I don’t know how it got there, though God knows enough crappy stuff happened to you.”

“Oh, my life isn’t that bad.”

Her eyes flashed and she smacked the ground with her hand. “Will you stop! Will you please for one blessed minute stop and listen to me?”

She stood up and stomped over to him, and he thought for a minute she was going to slug him for real, her fists balled and her face taut and red.

“You’re throwing your life away so fast I can’t. . . I can’t even keep up with it. I tell you I love you, I love you so much it takes my breath away, and it’s just nothing, it makes nothing happen. You can’t stop screwing yourself up, can’t give yourself a break. Can’t finish school or just stay around for me.”

He reached up and touched her hand, but she shook her head and turned away. She let herself drop down facing the water again.

He said, “It’s not a waste.” He picked up a short length of stick and touched her back, trying to tickle her neck.

“Oh, please.”

“No, you have to think of it that you’re the only one who keeps me going at all. The only one who has anything good for me. I know I screw up, but without you it’s just worse. You’re the only one who cares whether I live or die.”

“That’s some fun for me.”

“You say you don’t matter, I’m telling you you’re the only one who does.”

“I can’t do that alone, Ray. That’s too much for me to take on by myself.”

“Who else is there?” He sounded lost, and she turned and looked at him and her eyes were red.

“There’s you, Ray. You have to care about yourself. I mean at least a little. Enough to stay out of prison and not, I don’t know. Not mess with other people all the time. There has to be some small part of you that I could count on to keep on track.”

They sat for a while, listening to the almost imperceptible sound of the water’s edge, tiny breaking waves slapping at the rocks. Across the water a family poured out of vans and SUVs and set up a picnic in one of the pavilions. The low sounds of adult chatter and the high voices of children carried across the lake. One of the smaller kids made a beeline for the water, and a man who was maybe his father grabbed him at the water’s edge and scooped him up into a giant whirling arc, the boy screaming. It took Ray a minute to hear that there was excitement in the whoop from the boy, not fear, and he heard the word “again” from the boy so that the man was forced to swing him out over the water again and again while the boy shrieked in mock terror and clutched at him. Ray looked down at his clenched hands.

After a minute he got up and walked the few yards to where Mar-letta sat and dropped down beside her, his arm brushing hers. She dug under her gown, brought a tissue out of the pocket of her jeans, and blew her nose.

“I love you, Marletta.”

“I know you do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You are. About the sorriest boy I ever knew.” She shook her head at him.

“I knew I could make you smile.”

“You always could, from the first time I ever saw you.” She leaned over slowly and let her head settle on his shoulder. “Ray.”

“I like to hear you say my name. You’re the only one I want to hear say it.” He kissed her, and she leaned into him and put her arms tight around him and breathed into his mouth; peppermint and strawberry lip balm. After a minute he said, “You’re going to ruin that gown.”

“You can always steal me a new one.” She fitted herself against him, and he grew hard and pushed his face into her neck, opening his mouth and tasting the salt on her skin. She put her hand on his face and he closed his eyes.

“Take me somewhere, Ray.”

“No one’s home at Theresa’s.”

“Good. Take me there.” He got a flash of her then in his darkened room the month before he got sent up, naked in his bed, her small, dark body next to his long pale one, her brown nipples hardening under his hand. Her lips parted as he moved with her, her fingers on his arm, grasping.

“Where does your dad think you are?” His voice husky, his breath ragged.

“At Carole s. There’s a party there later.” Her fingers brushed lightly over the hardness in his jeans.

“I don’t know if I can wait till I get you home.”

She put her mouth against his ear, her cheek grazing his. “All good things,” she said.

“THERE HE IS
. You awake, hon?” A nurse, big shoulders in green scrubs, a mask but kind- looking eyes under blue eye shadow. She turned to the door. “He’s awake.”

“Ray, how you doing?” Another nurse, this one small with blond hair framing the mask.

“I don’t know.” His eyes were leaking water. Fat tears that made him ashamed.

“You’re in the hospital. Do you remember?”

“I don’t.”

“That’s okay. We need to pull this tube out.”

He blinked and tried to raise his arm. It was tethered to the bed with a soft strap. “I can’t get my arm.”

“Sorry about that, hon, you were pulling at the IV.” The big nurse unwrapped his hand and it lifted, stiff and weightless as if reduced to denuded bone, and he brought it up to touch his face and felt stubble, then wiped at the gum in the corners of his eyes.

He wanted a drink, and they gave him ice chips. He felt like he was wrapped in someone else’s flesh, a great swollen mass obscuring him, and he felt a distance between himself and his own wounded body. His arms were wrapped in gauze, and tubes ran under his blankets. He could smell himself, a rank smell of sweat and blood. In his leg he felt a sharp and constant stabbing as if there were still a knife blade in his thigh.

“I really hurt.”

The nurse patted his hand and told him they had orders for him to get pain meds.

“I, uh, I have to go.”

“You’ve got a colostomy, Ray. Do you know what I mean?”

“Christ.”

“It’s only for a while.”

A third nurse, this one with red hair, came in, flicking a needle.

“No. I don’t want that.”

“It’s okay, Ray. It’s for the pain.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Is he, are you confused about what’s going on?”

“No. It’s okay, really.”

“Well, if you don’t feel you need it.”

He turned his head to look at nothing. “I’m, uh. I have a problem with medication.”

“Oh.”

He heard them stop, all three, and felt them looking at him and each other.

“I can’t. I shouldn’t have anything like that.” He could feel

something, a wall going up. Something hardening in the air be

tween them.

“Okay, Ray.”

“Can you make a note or something? I just don’t want them to ask me.”

“I understand.”

“ ’Cause I’ll say yes. Right now I can say no, so please don’t let them ask me again.”

“We’ll get someone in to talk to you about it.”

HE FELL ASLEEP
again and awoke, this time the pain sharp and clear and insistent, fingers poking his ribs, his belly, his arms and his leg clamped in a vise. He woke breathing hard, his head full of webs and haze. Bart and Theresa were there, sitting on two chairs pulled close together. Theresa was looking through her purse, and his father was dozing, his breath a raspy whisper. Ray watched them and tried to control his breathing. He held on to the bed rails with a shaking hand.

Theresa looked up, jumping from her chair when she caught his eyes. “Ray”

His father started awake and stood up, rubbing his face. They looked down at him, and he stared back, shaking and wracked.

“So,” he said, his lips cracking, “who’s watching the dog?”

Theresa put a hand to her eyes and choked, and Bart put his hand on her shoulder and patted her, the gesture clumsy and stiff.

“Look at you. Your heart stopped.”

She couldn’t say any more, and Bart helped her into her seat. He came back to look down at Ray, and they stared at each other a long time. Ray put his shuddering, dry hand on his father’s arm. Bart looked down at his son’s hand and then raised his head, and Ray saw him smile. It had been so long since he had seen his father smile it was almost disconcerting, as if he had become someone else for a moment, but in another moment Ray was smiling, too. He shook his head and he raised his eyebrows at his old man, at what they knew about each other. Ray grabbed the skinny rope of muscle over Bart’s forearm, touching him where a heart was etched that had once been bright red but was slowly going green and black. It said caroline.