The Last Darling (6 page)

During the years that followed, June avoided all forms of intimacy even, and especially, with herself. She refused to wear make-up or brush her hair. She wore plain and unattractive clothes. She made deliberate efforts to conceal or obstruct her beauty. She lost her ambition and became a teacher only because she needed the money. In each of her students she saw something that resembled her sister. She had already misdiagnosed three students prior to Leo Darling and she would go on to misdiagnose five more, three of which would spend several years taking drugs they didn’t need.

June would never fall in love, though she would marry. The marriage was one of convenience. The man was good and kind, but slightly ugly. He taught history and Spanish in the adjacent room. They had sex sometimes and, though he was generous, June refused to enjoy herself. Three times she discovered she was pregnant and each time she secretly had an abortion. She spent the rest of her life as sad and alone as the day that her sister devoured the four poisonous cupcakes.

Leo Darling would never learn of these events, nor would he particularly care. Shortly after being accused of having a handicap, Leo Darling’s boredom would overtake him completely and he would decide to stop going to school altogether. He still continued his morning routine, but instead of turning right after exiting the front door, he turned left – a path that would lead him to Leo Vega’s lumber yard.

He would spend the mornings watching the blind artist carve stone into the most beautiful shapes. Each shape was part of the same subject and, in fact, the only subject the blind artist used since he fled Mexico. He never told the boy of the mistress; instead, he spoke of love. He said it was like a large slab of stone. Stone could be carved and cut and broken into many tiny pieces, but each of those pieces was still stone. Young Leo Darling did not understand everything the blind artist told him, but he liked watching him work and he liked listening to his old gravelly voice.

The boy’s presence made Vega feel good and he could tell the boy had an aptitude for art, so he began teaching him – many of his lessons not yet found in books. Each day young Leo Darling was challenged with new work and new ideas. The blind artist was merciless and smacked Leo with a long wooden art brush when he didn’t respond fast enough. His praise was of an equal merit. When young Leo showed mastery of a technique, the blind artist handed the boy a small round peach. The peaches were the boy’s favorite, and he was always excited to receive one. They were from a tree in Vega’s backyard and were sweeter and more flavorful than those found in any store.

In the evenings, Leo Darling tended to his father’s wild architectural whims. They built stairs that lead nowhere, doors that opened onto the roof, rooms that were missing ceilings or ceilings that were missing walls. They dug tunnels from the front yard to the backyard so guests wouldn’t need to enter the house to get to the garden, though they did not, nor would they ever, have a garden, or guests for that matter. The more ridiculous a project sounded, the more Francis wanted to complete it. He had dirt hauled in and placed on a portion of the roof so tomatoes could be planted and plucked from a bedroom window. When the roof caved in, he decided to leave the hole as it was, stating that the tomatoes would need the sunlight and walking downstairs to pluck them was not that much of an inconvenience. Thomas Stearns thought the chaos was wonderful and spent many hours sitting in the sunroom writing poetry. The mansion was in such a degraded state that more snakes, insects, critters, and stray animals could be found inside the house than in the surrounding landscape. Francis referred to each of them lovingly as a pet, though more than once he had been startled by a snake in the pantry. Vega furiously confronted him one afternoon after being bitten by an unknown creature. Francis gently squeezed the old man’s shoulder, explaining that the rats would be eaten by the snakes, the snakes eaten by the cats, the cats chased off by the dogs and so on, assuring him that everything would work out.

For ten years Leo Darling learned the skills of an artist and craftsman, becoming so proficient and imaginative that people refused to believe he was capable of such greatness. He convinced a restaurant in town to display his work. The customers thought the paintings and sculptures were too good for such a young boy to have created and laughingly chided him for taking credit. Insulted and angered, he punched the men in their faces and pushed the women out the door, establishing a reputation for his great talent and temper. No other shop, restaurant, or business would display his work fearing that he might scare off customers.

Francis, seeing how distressed his son was, decided to add a gallery to the house where his son’s art could be displayed, but like all his previous projects, he started with the most frivolous element – the stairs. His designs were elegant, but extremely ambition. He began work that night and would continue working for the next three months. A wooden frame had been constructed and a system of levers and pulleys were in place so that one person could easily lift or lower materials without descending or ascending the tall and dangerous ladder. Francis had built a series of platforms that lead spirally to the top floor, but he had yet to attach them with stairs. His attention had been diverted to an even more frivolous project – a stained glass window. The window was not initially in his plans, but one afternoon when the generator went out and he was forced to work in darkness, he was suddenly struck by a desire for a large and intricate window that could capture and project the sun. His design involved mirrors, prisms, colored glass, and a variety of adhesives.

He connected portions of the window on the ground and then carried the pieces up the ladder. He then laid on a wooden slat attached to ropes and began putting the window in place. His designs were exceptional; his execution, however, was sadly and irreparably flawed. In his haste, he failed to apply the proper amount of adhesive and a segment of glass became dislodged. It was not enough to ruin the window, or even enough of a blemish for Francis to notice; however, as he continually repositioned himself on the wooden slat, the glass silently cut into one of the ropes. If it had been any other day, he might have noticed, but that day he was especially distracted for it was young Leo Darling’s sixteenth birthday and Francis had forgotten to wrap his son’s gift, or even hide it. He felt a slight pinch of anxiety, uncertain if his son would mind.

He began to think about what his son’s reaction might be, but he would never complete the thought for at that exact moment the rope snapped, sending his legs crashing into the window. Shards of glass, mirror, and metal sliced Francis’ face and legs while his arms frantically gripped the swinging wooden slat. He hung for a moment, completely helpless and very much afraid. A small amount of hope still clung to his heart giving him the faintest sense of safety, but it would be misleading for, out of his view, one of the glass shards had caught on a pulley. Just as Francis was taking a calm breath, a second rope snapped. He and the wooden slat fell as another set of boards were pulled into the air. Francis and the boards collided and swung in opposite directions – slamming into the unfinished platforms. The damage normally done by this kind of collision would be minimal; however, Francis had never completely hammered the planks into place so, when he stuck the platform, boards and nails slapped against his body and tore his skin. His arms lost their strength and he fell, headfirst, into the glass and metal. As the blood leaked out of his head and chest, he thought about Clover – how much he missed her and how it would be nice to see her one last time, then he died.

Leo Darling returned from Vega’s lumber yard feeling particularly good. For his birthday, Vega had given him a large slab of stone and a set of tools to work it. He had already thought of several things he could carve, but he was so enveloped by the thought, he didn’t notice the framed photograph on the counter or the note lying next to it. He simply hurried to the stairwell where he knew his father would be working.

He saw the blood and body. He had to take four more steps into the room before he could identify the face. It was his father.

Leo Darling leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. He hugged his knees to his chest and stared into his father’s open eyes. He remained there the entire night and a good portion of the morning. He didn’t sleep or move or eat or cry. He was too startled and sad to even think.

The death was not reported to the police until early that afternoon when Vega arrived with wood and supplies for the stairwell. He closed Francis’ eyes and sat on the floor with Leo Darling. They didn’t speak or touch, not even when the police arrived, or when the body was lifted onto a gurney and rolled out. When night came, Vega stood and began walking back to the lumber yard. Leo Darling silently followed him.

Vega took a cot from the attic and laid it out next to his bed. Leo did not want to sleep, but his body was tired and his eyes were heavy. He waited for the blind artist to quietly snore. Then he went to the garage where his gift, the stone slab, was kept. He found a sledge hammer and repeatedly struck the stone until all that remained were tiny pieces. Then he crushed the tiny pieces into dust. He angrily wept and fell asleep on the floor, the grey dust covering his clothes and skin.

The blind artist was not in fact asleep when Leo Darling left the room. His exceptional ears heard every swing of the hammer and every sob. Though the stone had been very expensive and difficult to acquire, the blind artist did not stop Leo Darling from destroying it for he knew that even its destruction was a kind of art, though not one that could be seen or lasting.

Later that week a lawyer arrived at the lumber yard explaining that no other family members could be found, and the custody and care of the boy had fallen to Leo Vega. The news was a surprise, but not a shock for Vega had already thought of the boy as his son and treated him as such.

The following month, a different set of lawyers arrived bringing with them police officers and warrants. They put the blind artist in handcuffs and led him into the back of a squad car. When the officers refused to explain what was happening, Leo Darling’s temper overtook him and he struck several of them with his carving hammer. Their wounds were painful, but not severe. Before he could grab a chisel or knife, the police struck him across the back of the head. He awoke in a hospital with a bandage around his head and an officer outside his door.

Leo Vega’s incarceration was, in fact, justified, though obviously excessive. In his eagerness to leave Mexico and the painful memories of his lost love, he had never completed the proper forms to become a United States citizen and was knowingly an illegal resident within its borders. This crime became evident when Leo Darling’s Social Security, insurance, and substantial wealth fell to a Mexican born alien. The matter would normally have been dealt with reasonably and Leo Vega would have had the opportunity to become a citizen; however, it was an election year and an example needed to be made, or at least that was the philosophy of John Davis, the sitting senator.

John Davis had entered politics as an idealist, both young and helplessly in love with his country. His first political experience occurred at the age of twelve when his older brother came home with a black eye and several bruises. John learned the damage was the result of a neighborhood bully who was nearly twice his size. Instead of telling his parents, John took his brother aside and told him to act as if everything was normal. He saved his lunch money for a month and, when he considered it a large enough sum, he found the three biggest football players in high school and hired them to pretend to be good friends with his brother, walking home with him for the next week, and once a month after that until the year was out. The results were astoundingly successful. Not only did the bully stop harassing his brother, but the three football players and his brother found it so easy being friends that they continued to do so throughout high school.

John had no interest in governmental politics; his skills came from a practical necessity. His family was lower-middle class and put more money into credit cards than a savings account. Both his parents worked and when they weren’t working, they slept from exhaustion, which left John’s three brothers and two sisters in a constant power struggle. His clothes and toys were second hand and, in many cases, once belonged to his sisters. His parents managed to scrape together enough money for one of their children to go to college, but the bank took most of it when the house payments fell behind, so John had to work two jobs to make his way through a small state college.

When hundreds of people, including his father, had their benefits cut and their pensions in jeopardy of the same, John temporarily left school to help the union organize. His work was so efficient, both for the company and the workers, that it was featured for two full days by the national media.

The senator took notice, almost immediately hiring John as a legislative assistant. John worked under the senator for four years, learning the intricacies of government and the best ways to avoid a scandal. One early afternoon, the senator’s daughter arrived for a lunch date with her father, but due to a late meeting, the senator told John to accompany her instead. John’s charm and winning smile lead to several more dates and eventually a wedding engagement. John, at first, would assume his pleasant personality and dashing good looks had won her over, and for a brief time they had, but she had grown bored of his respectful distance and unwavering ethics. When he proposed, she took three days to give him an answer.

The truth was, the senator’s meeting had not run late and, in fact, had never taken place. The senator, being a skilled manipulator, had planned for his daughter and John to meet. Over the years, he had come to respect and admire John, so much so, that he wanted John to take his senate seat. After he had been diagnosed with lung cancer, the senator knew there was no way he could run in the next election. He could not stand the thought of leaving politics and planned to live vicariously through someone. He had encouraged his daughter to be active politically, but she had never shown an interest. John, on the other hand and with a little bit of work, would be the perfect candidate, but their bond needed to be more permanent, so when the senator’s daughter told him how she planned to refuse John’s offer of marriage, the senator persuaded her to reconsider. He knew her hesitation came from the sexual exclusivity that marriage required, and so he explained that John, like all politicians, would have many affairs over the course of his career and that it was only fair for her to do the same. She accepted his logic and John’s offer the next day.