The Endless Concord, Chapter 15

XV. Rutherford


We didn’t sleep together that night, nor did we after dinner the following night. However it was decided I would drive up to Seattle to see her a week after she left town. This was enough. We had only this one priority and it gave me a sense of purpose. I wondered if this is why people get themselves involved in this whole business in the first place. I was crossing those country roads that lead nowhere, this one looked somehow more commercialized, more on ramps and off ramps, more people with a sense of destination. I wanted to hang on with Rainy, she gave me a wholeness.
I thought about Lance and Willis less and less until finally altogether. These two characters seemed a part of some other life, and here was this new one with Rainy. I would go grocery shopping, clean the apartment up, look through the classifieds for work, talk to Rainy on the phone, read some and go to bed. Days seemed to drift by.
I tried figuring Rainy out in my mind, putting the bits and pieces together, these explanations she gave me, to make a life-form. So long as I guessed at the details in between it seemed like a plausible human being. She was born in Brooklyn and went to school there, traveled around the States and lived in France for a couple years. She still drinks Pastis, besides the language it’s the one thing that really grew on her. Somewhere along the line she moved to Seattle, for reasons why remained vague but it didn’t seem to matter. We were largely uninterested in these details, they seemed to come up mainly out of necessity, and when they did the idea was to get through them as quickly as possible, more because we felt it necessary. We understood this is what people do when they get started, but these talks soon became less frequent until finally nonexistent. I didn’t really want to know about her upbringing and she was comfortable with that, and on the other hand, she had absolutely no pretensions as to my heritage whatsoever. This was a good thing, it seemed. We agreed people were interested in the histories of their partners only when nothing else could be discussed, only at that point where all other topics of interest were exhausted, only then can this leap into banal conversation be made, and these details seemed just that to her; banal and tiring. I couldn’t disagree. So after our first two nights together things began again in the present. However there would be relapses, these would be unavoidable.
The first of these took place on my first trip up to Seattle to see her. It had been nine days since our meeting together at the apartment. Since then there had been two weeks of solid dating, enough, I imagined, to get things going on a close level. I rented a car, a little blue Saturn -Willis still had the hatchback- and drove up there with the window partially rolled down chain smoking and avoiding the freezing cold splashing water as best I could. She lived in a small duplex apartment in Queen Anne in a neighborhood that reminded me of Thom. Kids skied down community streets into cul-de-sacs all bundled up in bright blue’s and yellow’s. Parents footed the snow affirming its compaction. Men wearing colorful beanies waved up at me everywhere I went. There were entire communities of nonsmoking people. I felt I would outlive my welcome.
Her place was clean and warm. She had thick carpet that left foot prints, big Native-American wool blankets, and a snow white well groomed cat that seemed rooted to the spot –a loafer paid in fish and milk whose only job is to just kind of give the room a winter ambience.
“That’s Garfunkle,” she said, pointing at the cat who acknowledged her with a look of bored indifference as I walked in.
I waved at Garfunkle.
“So this is the place,” she said shrugging.
“I want to wake up here every morning,” I said, looking around the room and associating every object in it with her. Standardized pictures of her time in France, a wooden sail boat on the mantel, the electric fire, a Norse God, a fuzzy forest green toilet lid cover, tea tree facial soaps; I could roll myself up in her apartment and disappear.
“You want to?” she asked, drawing closer and hugging me.
The fact that we hadn’t had sex yet became remarkably apparent.
“Shall we get a couple of drinks?” I asked, nervously slapping my thighs with my hands and feigning interest in a picture she had hung on the wall.
She stood by the Eiffel Tower bundled up with dark colored scarves. A man stood near her playing a violin and wearing an Anglobasque beret looking solemnly at the ground. She wore a facial expression of nervous excitement. Another man, dressed like the violinist and holding a flute, held his palm out to her in anticipation. The movements of her body indicated she were taking a step away from him.
“It’s the middle of the day!”
“Well…” I broke off, shrugging.
“I’ve got some Pinot Noir in the cupboard,” she said walking into the kitchen.
“That will be fine,” I said, sitting down on the couch.
I tried activating Garfunkle but there was no use, he was on the clock.
“So what have you been doing?” I called out to the kitchen.
“What?” I heard echo through the room.
“What have you been doing?” I yelled.
“Oh, yeah. Just kind of...you know?”
“What’s that?”
“Huh?”
“Again please?” I sounded out.
She brought out the glasses and set them down on the wooden table all littered with Scientific American and National Geographic. We drank in silence.
“A refill?” she asked after we had downed them in only a few minutes.
“Uh, please,” I said, pretending to wonder if it were a good idea.
“So how’s it been going in Portland? Have you talked to Willis at all?” I heard from the kitchen.
“No, haven’t talked to him.”
“Are you going to see your brother here in town?”
“I might swing by.”
“What’s that?”
“I might swing by,” I hollered.
“Oh okay.”
She came back with the wine glasses and again we drank in silence.
“What uh…what vintage is this?” I asked, eyeing the empty glass down and setting it on the table.
“I don’t know. Should I check?”
“No, that’s okay.”
We sat in silence a little longer, looking around the room.
I looked at her seriously for the first time since I came in. She had braided her hair in two locks that came down to her shoulders. Some curly parts hung on the freckles by her bright green eyes. She drank wine with her hands cupped around the glass pretending not to notice the look I gave her. Garfunkle yawned and shifted his weight on the top of the couch between us. The air conditioner was again present.
I finally lunged at Rainy. She lunged back. We rocked back and forth on the couch kissing violently. Within seconds her shirt was off and I was kissing her warm body. She sat back on the couch and I pounced on her, causing Garfunkle to jump onto the coffee table and knock off the glasses. Rainy tore my shirt off throwing the buttons all over the room and just like that we made love.
It went like that until evening time and we decided on going out for dinner. I thought I’d take the rental because her car is too small. Rainy said she knew a place –a small Greek joint with a floral veranda. The hostess suggested we sit inside and gave us a look when we suggested the veranda.
“It’s ice cold out there.”
“Sounds good, keeps the joints active,” I said while she looked on in bewilderment.
It was ice cold but good. The sky was a dark blue and the stars were coming out. Every waking moment more would collect in the sky. It was the first time I ever registered the idea that stars don’t abruptly appear, as if day suddenly became night. There was this other thing, twilight. The day leaves in grades and visible shapes slowly form in the sky, you can even watch them, like shells on the floor of the ocean become visible after the sand you kicked up settles down. This thought made Rainy happy and we rubbed one another down to stay warm. I thought about those drives I took when I was younger, the slow change in environments, the absence of borders, the harmony of land.
“Can you blow rings with steam?” She asked, making a straw sip motion with her mouth and blowing into the air.
“I don’t think so. You can try it with a cigarette,” I said, pulling a stick out of the pack.
“I don’t smoke,” she said crassly.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, “for some reason that fact didn’t compute.”
“Compute,” she smiled.
The waiter came with the menus and we selected whatever we couldn’t understand at random. As we talked and waited for the food to come a man stood not far from us starring at Rainy. He was well dressed and looked about forty-something. He had a concentrated look in his eyes, and he didn’t seem to notice when I looked back and forth between him and her trying to make something out of it before finally bringing the man to her attention. I wondered whether or not it was a good idea. Rainy turned around mid-sentence and studied the man, a fresh look of worry falling over her face.
“Hello Rainy, I apologize…I didn’t want to interrupt,” the man said, approaching the side of Rainy’s chair and looking at me.
“No, no interruption,” I said, shrugging and looking at Rainy.
The man smiled at Rainy .
“Clement, this is Morgan.” she said as the expression on her face lingered.
“Ah, Morgan Rutherford,” he said, politely shaking my hand.
“Dr…” Rainy added.
I thought about the name, it didn’t seem to ring a bell although sounded familiar.
“Morgan is a friend of my fathers, he lived in Brooklyn for a long time, and,” she looked at him nervously and back at me, “he’s a friend of mine.”
Morgan again nodded politely and the two exchanged astonishment for having run into one another.
“I hope I’m not interrupting?” asked the Doctor, making to pull up a chair.
“Well actually…” Rainy began.
“Uh, no, not at all,” I broke out, while Rainy and I exchanged looks.
“Very good.”
The waiter came out and Morgan suggested we celebrate this crossing paths with champagne and ordered it immediately. Morgan worked at a hospital with Rainy’s father when she was quite a deal younger. The history was orated excitedly by Morgan while Rainy kind of gazed at the horizon distractedly. When Rainy was twenty she moved here with him and became engaged to be married.
I snapped to attention on hearing this last part.
“Rainy was a young social butterfly and I was a man eager to make a fresh start after so long working at the hospital and the two of us hit it off swimmingly,” he announced excitedly.
I nodded my head and watched Rainy stare off into space.
“I’ve been here in Seattle since, work just dictated that I be here, ah champagne…”
The waiter went around pouring glasses and Rainy gulped hers down eagerly and tapped the glass for more. I tried examining the bottle without looking rude about it.
“So are you a friend of Rainy’s?” Morgan asked after tasting the drink.
“He’s my boyfriend,” Rainy broke in.
“Ah, I see, well aren’t you lucky, young man!”
“Yes I am,” I said, reaching out to hold Rainy’s hand and laughing nervously.
Rainy drank another glass.
“When two fluttering young bees roust about in the glorious winter’s day, one might hear but a…”
Rainy got up.
“But my dear!” exclaimed the Doctor, who too got up.
I stood up reluctantly.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Uh…to the restroom?” Rainy said.
We all looked at one another and Morgan and I sat back down somewhat embarrassed.
“So I guess you two are lovers?” Morgan leaned forward, in all seriousness after she had walked out of earshot.
“I guess so.”
“And how is that going for you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’m sorry. You see, I probably shouldn’t be here. The truth is, I had already eaten dinner…I just, well I saw the two of you come in…Rainy she, she’s a basket case...allow me to say that, yes I believe so, she is a hand-full…”
“That’s enough,” I said, trying to figure out what to do.
He wore this green turtleneck that betrayed his body. A brim hung around his chin and flopped down in woolen cloth to his sternum. The fabric would fold into other folds and layers. It was difficult to tell where he was coming from.
“Let me just explain. I’ve known her many years…many years…”
“Like when you were nearing thirty and she was only just being born?” I asked.
“Now, OK, now I understand you’re upset! But that’s alright! That’s no problem. Here you are, the two of you, new together and I am just some old codger who happened to just waltz in here and upset your new partner here…this must be confusing for you, I’ll allow that. I’ll allow for it.”
“I just don’t want this to turn into something.”
“It won’t! It won’t! Believe me I’ll leave before she gets back, let me just say what I need to say here.”
I waved my palm out in the air and shrugged.
“After all is said and done. I love her very much. I want you to know that. She means the World to me. We came out here together, and it’s a given there was an age difference, but we got through it. Her father was a good friend of mine. We worked together at Clariton for a good many years before he went back to San Diego, he’s very successful now. I was a few years younger than he, about forty-eight, when I first noticed the fine young dove his daughter had become. She had supple…”
I waved my hand at him and shook my head.
“Okay, well then all right. In any case, we were going to be married. Although at times I’m under the impression that she only didn’t know any better, and this feeling that perhaps she might run away from me was always present. I’m no fool. I’m under no delusions women at that age stay with one partner their entire lives. But what was to come…well that I could have never predicted.”
“I take it, more than one?” I put in.
“Yes, a great many,” Rutherford said solemnly furrowing his brows and taking a sip of champagne.
His movements looked comical in a way, as if he were miming sorrow.
“When did it happen?”
“A few months into it, after we had already made the move to Seattle.”
“Why come here?” I asked.
“Like I said, her father moved to the West coast years ago because his profession was just more lucrative here, we moved so Rainy could be relatively close to her father; she visited him in San Diego once a year for most of her young life, and because, in my line of work, Seattle is an excellent place to settle down. It’s the weather; people fall apart, they need doctors. After our falling out I moved back to Brooklyn, but I couldn’t stay, a year was enough.”
“I see.”
“So, moving on, they came and went. I knew they were there, I mean, I knew they were coming; I wasn’t surprised. I dealt with it in my own way, I’m not going to bore you with that, but the problem here, and the root of my surprise, were the numbers. It would be at the very least, several times a week, but sometimes several in a day! Why there were artists, businessmen she picked up at the coffee shop, janitors, African-Americans. The numbers Clement! I had lost my mind following her around on these escapades…and she enjoyed it! As if she knew I were following her! The little princess!” he said, shouting this last part out and crinkling his lips as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.
I starred at him blankly, trying to process the randomness of this episode –on our third date.
“She ruined everything! The dirty little damsel! The nasty little strumpet!”
“That’s just about enough I think!” I said, interrupting him and causing him to look up at me as if he had just awoken out of a deep sleep.
“Yes, yes you’re quite right. I’m sorry. We’ve made up since. I’ve seen her one other time since our breaking up. We’ve made up…I shouldn’t be going on like this. I know she doesn’t want to see me. She never wanted to, I understand that now. That is why…that is why. Anyway, I should be going now,” he said getting up.
“I think that might be a good idea,” I said, getting up and politely shaking his hand.
“Good luck to you, enjoy the champagne. Please tell her I…well…tell her whatever you’d like.”
“Take care,” I said, watching him saunter off mumbling aloud.
“Nasty…nasty little whore…” I heard him say in the distance.
I sat back down again trying to understand what just happened and noticed Rainy looking out at me through the window. I waved her over.
“Is he gone for sure?” Rainy asked.
“Yes, I think he’s gone for sure.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s not your fault.”
“Well…I know what he probably told you.”
I laughed nervously, “I understand, he uh…well you were Lolita and he was an older man at the uh…”
“Clariton hospital.”
“Yeah, it’s uh…” I paused, allowing that word to sink in. “Clariton?”
“Yes, in Brooklyn, Clariton,” Rainy said, tilting her head and forming a smile, “What’s up?”
I ran out to the street. Several cars with tinted windows pulled away from the building. I approached them and tried looking in before they pulled away. A woman in a yellow Jetta threw an orange juice bottle at me and called me a creep. On the back of the car was a sign that read, “Baby on board.”
Rainy ran after me. “What are you doing? Don’t leave!” she shouted. “It was a long time ago, I’m not like the way he said. He’s fucking crazy!”
I continued to run down the street looking in car windows until finally I saw a green turtleneck not far ahead walking along on the other side of the street. It had to be him. I ran towards the man. Rainy called out behind me crying, “Clem don’t go!” Her voice sounded terrible. I couldn’t ignore it. I turned around and motioned to her with my hands that it’s fine. “It’s not about you, I’ll explain later, go back to the restaurant!” I said, turning around and sprinting towards the man. He turned the corner and when I reached it I was put to a halt with a blow to the head.
“Stay away from me!” yelled a flamboyant voice.
I stood up slowly with my vision foggy and tried connecting that voice with Rutherford’s.
“I warned you! Creep!”
There was a hand directly in front of me, I saw a finger, and I definitely saw a small black eye, and out of that eye came a bursting gush of yellow liquid. I seemed to register what was happening a split second before the liquid came out and was able to block it from getting in my eyes, but that didn’t stop the burning. I fell to my knees trying to wipe it away from my face when Rainy approached, having to step back from the acid haze.
“What happened? Oh my God!” Rainy yelled, trying to cover her mouth.
“He attacked me!” I saw the figure of a green man stepping back. “He just attacked me and I sprayed him!”
Rainy grabbed me and led me back to the restaurant cursing the man with the spray and trying to piece together what happened. I went straight to the restroom and spent a half hour flushing out my eyes while Rainy periodically checked in with little solutions she said the kitchen staff procured to help me out. The cook suggested onions and so she brought onions. The hostess said raw meat might help because it works for bruises and wondered, “Does this work for pepper spray eyes too?” Someone in the blurry fog around me suggested citrus and began to squeeze limes on my head. The staff offered to call the police but we told them it was fine and that it was only a misunderstanding. They asked us if we wanted to wrap the food to go and Rainy said it would be a good idea. The cook or someone from the kitchen took the opportunity to say the food wasn’t spicy, and don’t worry, pepper free.
Rutherford didn’t pay for the champagne. We had to use an ATM accompanied by a young waiter. Rainy promised she would pay for it.

“Third time’s a charm…” Rainy said sarcastically as she drove the car back to the house and I sat in the passenger seat. “You gonna tell me what happened?” she asked, watching me ice down my face and turning back to the road.
I rolled down the window. The breeze felt good on my forehead.
“I thought he was Rutherford.”
“I gathered that, what made you want to see him so badly? Did you want to verify everything he told you was true?”
“No, it has nothing to do with you. It’s Clariton hospital. His name is Dr. Morgan Rutherford. Lance was born in Clariton Hospital before he moved to San Diego,” I mumbled impatiently.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Lance Bennett, Morgan compiled his case history.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yep.”
“Well what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to ask him some questions, I have to know.”
“Have to know what?”
The wind shot through the car blowing receipts around.
“I don’t really know,” I said finally.
“You don’t know what you have to know?”
“Yes. I don’t know what I have to know.”
We drove on in silence. I thought about asking her how I could get in touch with Rutherford but thought it better not to. She had broken off contact with the man, it seemed, and even if she did know, I knew her reliving the pain of having to think about him ever again wouldn’t be worth whatever it is I wanted from him. He wasn’t Idleman. And besides, if I wanted Idleman I could go straight to the source. An established author and Doctor isn’t hard to find. I could find the both of them on my own. But is that what I want? What would I say when I see them? What more is there to learn? Crazy man died, end of story. Was there more to it?
By the end of the night I was resolved to drop it. This story had to have some kind of ending. It can’t continue on with some other investigation brought out by a careless counselor sometime after Lance’s death. He’s dead. It had to end there. Rutherford was himself a lunatic, there would be little he could tell me. According to the case file, he had only compiled Lance’s youth history, there’s the possibility the two had never even met. No matter how many times I ran it through my mind, this longing to understand Lance, to dig further into him kept surfacing, and there was this other thing, this one line, “Before he moved to San Diego.” Lance lived in San Diego, he was also from Brooklyn. None of this made any sense.

I awoke the next morning feeling better, and there was Rainy with coffee and light coming out from the window. Her bed was warm and comfortable and I remembered what I said about never wanting to leave, this time taking it seriously. We ate breakfast and talked about whatever was in the news and I knew right then the night before would never be discussed again. We did the crossword, the Sudoku, and then split up the funnies and read them aloud. Rainy liked pointing out ironic headlines and making up new ones. We did that together for a while until I remembered I should probably visit Thom.
“Do you want me to come or do you want to go alone?”
“Go alone.”
“Okay.”
I changed back into the shirt without the buttons out of the overnight bag I brought –the other one was soaked with pepper-spray, kissed Rainy and headed towards Thom’s.

He buzzed me through the gate and I drove in and parked near his blue Jetta, or one of the many blue Jettas there in the parking lot.
“Upstairs,” he sang into the speaker with a buzz that unlocked the door.
“Clemy, meet Ross, Ross meet Clement,” Thom proclaimed standing in the middle of the living room bouncing around with a big smile. Ross, who looked strikingly like Thom, rushed forward and shook my hand excitedly.
“You knew I was coming?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah! I buzzed you in silly,” Thom said with a tilt of the neck, “what’s wrong?”
“I need to borrow money.”
Thom looked at Ross and then back at me. I looked around the room. “This place is beginning to look more and more like a catalog.”
“I know!” Thom said laughing and clapping his hands.
“Please, sit down,” Ross said, indicating one of the love seats.
Four navy blue love seats rested on a white woolen carpet near a table of some inanimate steal and glass.
“Tea?” Ross chimed.
“No thanks.”
Thom sat down across from me and next to him, Ross. Several moments passed, it was impossible to tell, of them just kind of looking at me with big smiles.
“What is this?”
“We’re not going to give you any money,” Thom said finally, both he and Ross nodding their heads emphatically.
“Goddamn it Thom.” I said resolutely, standing up.
“Wait till you hear what we have to offer.”
“Thom, I need a loan. I ask you only because you don’t impose any interest rates, otherwise I’d go to a bank, but frankly this isn’t worth the trouble. I’d rather deal with them. When you became such a bastard I have no idea…”
“You see the way he talks to me?” Thom turned to Ross who nodded in agreement.
“Five years ago you were normal. It’s this…it’s this city. Idahoans shouldn’t move to Seattle…it’s no good for anyone...”
“Where do you get off?” Thom yelled, noticeably offended.
“Okay okay,” I said finally, walking over to the window, “let’s hear the proposition.”
“I don’t know if I want to tell you now, after this.”
We all three exchanged glances.
“What he means is,” Ross began, “we have an arrangement that might suit all of our needs, if you would only quit making the…remarks…we would tell you.”
“I’m sorry who are you again?”
Thom wiggled in his seat in aggravation, huffing his nostrils and oscillating excitedly. Ross padded him on the knees and looked at me with wide eyes. Ross was pissed off.
I made a zipping gesture with my mouth, thumb, and forefinger.
“I am an innocent third party aware of your relationship with your older brother. He’s told me everything, the way you talk to him, the way you ask him for money…”
“I can’t, I just can’t!” Thom said, throwing his arms in the air.
I looked on in astonishment.
“You see? You see what you do to him? Now you just listen. I’m aware of your alcohol abuse problems, your history of substance abuse, your getting fired from your job. You are a louse sir…”
I tried interrupting.
“Excuse me!” Ross began again, “A louse!”
Thom got up and skipped obnoxiously towards the kitchen.
“Your older brother and I are what some might call 'Successful people.’ We have ideals, beliefs, and above all, stability. These things are strangers to you. But not anymore! We’re going to help you get back on track. This is what you might call, an intervention. Thom knew you would be heading up this way and needed my support. That’s why I’m here talking to you now. It’s time to get in shape buster!”
“We’re going to exercise?” I thought about Jane Fonda, Ross and Thom all going out for milkshakes together.
“Laugh all you want! You’re not going anywhere! You’re checking into a drug clinic and I’m going to make sure you get there!”
“I’m sorry?” I asked laughing nervously. “Are you joking? Do you think that because I got laid off I’m addicted to drugs? I did some coke when I was a teenager, this is really getting out of hand...”
“We read on MSN.COM social workers are most likely to have relapses. We know the statistics.”
Thom came out into the living room with a piece of paper. “Here are the warning signs. You fit these descriptions of a high-seeking addict.”
I grabbed the paper out of his hands and read it aloud.
“This can apply to anyone,” I announced after I finished reading.
“Not here, look at this,” Thom said, pulling the paper away and pointing at number nine, “'The user will borrow money and get defensive when asked what it’s for.’”
“You never asked me what it’s for!” I shouted.
“We didn’t need to, we already knew! And have a look at this, number twelve, ‘Will reject offers of food and drink as they will appear unsavory in comparison to the drug.’”
“We offered you tea, that was a test,” Ross added.
I looked at Thom in bewilderment.
“Drug addicts hate food,” announced Thom.
“Show him number seven,” Ross said pointing at the paper.
“'The addict will appear disheveled, sometimes showing signs of lack of sleep, and will often have bruises or scars on the face from falling down during moments of drug crazed lunacy.’”
I looked down at my shirt with the missing buttons from Rainy and felt the scar on my head from the escapade with Rutherford’s doppelganger.
Ross looked on with smugness, Thom looked sympathetic. The internet printout they were holding displayed a picture of Dr. Idleman.
“How are you feeling Clement?” Thom asked finally.
“We’re here to help you Clement,” Ross added.

I ran as fast as I could. Thom had locked the door with the key from the inside and hid it somewhere during my talk with Ross. I had to take the fire escape. It wasn’t like it was in the movies. Every step I took bolts seemed to be falling off the thing. You don’t just fly down. You have to take it slowly and weigh your steps, careful not to let your leg fall through the gaps between the metal stairs. People on treadmills in the gym below Thom’s floor looked on confusedly as I ran to the car with Ross and Thom, who had taken the elevator, racing closely behind me. I couldn’t be sure, but Thom looked to be carrying a brown lunch bag and a harness of some kind.
“We’re here to help you Clemy!” he screamed from behind me.
I was able to lose them in a lackluster car chase and headed back to Rainy’s.

“I’ve got to get out of town,” I said as I came through the door tracking quickly melting snow into the living room.
“You just got here,” she hollered from the kitchen.
I told her what happened and she couldn’t believe it.
“I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true, they think I’m a drug addict.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I need to go back to Portland. When Thom resolves to care about someone…no matter how misguided he is, he’ll have the whole police force on them…”
I examined the possibility of crisis control looking for me.
“He wants to institutionalize you?” Rainy asked laughing.
“It’s not funny. You don’t understand the way these people think. They’re all hyped up on morning news and Idleman.”
“Idleman?” she asked, puzzled, giving me an awkward look.
“I have to get going.”
“You just got here. No one’s sending agents to my duplex.”
“The networks of management these people exist in are vast Rainy. Right now there are little Idleman's crawling all over the skyscrapers of Seattle looking for Thom’s renegade brother!”
“Quit mentioning his name!”
“What?” I asked confusedly.
“Just...” her tone changed, “why don’t you calm down or I’ll institutionalize you myself,” she said in a sexy drawl.
“It’s not funny! I’m not delusional. These last couple of months have been bizarre. Nothing has happened…and yet everything has happened. Things don’t normally move this quickly for me…”
She gave me a questioning look.
“No, no, no, I didn’t mean in that way, this is fine,” I said gesturing to the two of us, “I mean in other respects…Willis, Frank, and now Thom –all of these relationships now totally irreparable. What happened to just going to work and reading the newspaper, having a cup of coffee and a drink later with a friend?”
“I don’t think that lifestyle would suit you.”
“But that was my life before…”
“Lance?”
“Yep.”
“I thought we weren’t going to bring it up? It’s ridiculous that you keep bringing it up. You’re like some kind of disturbed veteran! It’s not that bad.”
“What would you do if you were me?”
“Take everyone’s advice to degrees. For instance, listen to some of what your brother says and try to find some shade of stability, like a job or something. Listen to what I say and drop the subject of Lance and ‘The meaning of life’ or whatever it is you’ve been going through and think about forgiving Willis, and maybe get something else to occupy your time.”
I thought about it for a while. “Okay. Sounds like a plan,” I said finally, “I’ll go back to Portland, call Willis, find some new healthcare job, and pick up a hobby. How’s jazz saxophone sound, huh? Maybe I can play the sax at a bank or something, they can hire me out, like ‘Jazz up your mortgage’ you know?”
“You asked for my opinion.”
“I need to get going.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Don’t say that!” I hollered, edging towards the door.
“Say what? That I’m here to help you Clement?”
“Who told you to say that?” I yelled, moving quickly towards the car without waiting for an answer.
“Call me when you’re not a goddamn lunatic!” She called out from the house.
I paused and stopped before entering the car and sat down on the curb to think. Children continued to ski down the street with parents walking briskly behind them. Men in yellow parkas threw a Frisbee through the air and exaggerated the retrievals. Is there something here I’m missing? I thought to myself.
I stood up and turned around to notice Rainy still on the porch.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not looking up and making a show of kicking my shoes around in the snow bashfully.
“It’s okay,” she replied in a soft, maternal voice.
She came down from the porch and there was an awkward embrace. She promised to come see me within the week and I told her that would be fine.