“I hear you.” Lenny stirred his remaining beans and mashed potatoes with his fork. “That pretty much describes how it’s always been for me. Trying to ignore all the looks and the talk.”
Colin watched the boy form designs on his plate. Lenny’s arm was tiny, his wrist and fingers fragile, bird-like. “Do you plan on going there?”
“I expect I won’t be having that chance.”
Colin realized all the room’s other conversations had gone silent. “Why not?”
“They don’t see me living that long.”
The boy’s casual reply shocked him. “Who is ‘they’?”
“Pretty much everybody, near as I can figure. I’ve had fits since I was a baby. All the talk I’m not supposed to be hearing is about what it’s done to my head. You know. The cumulative effect.”
Colin sensed there was a purpose to the boy’s confession. Lenny was not making idle conversation. He was after something. “If you could, you know, go there, what would you want to study?”
He looked up from his plate, the feverish gleam hungry now. Desperate. “The metalanguage of linguistics. The maths of language structure. I’d like that a lot.”
“And Braxos …”
The boy went back to stirring the remnants of his meal into a series of geometric designs. “Braxos. Hunh.”
Colin felt the link strengthen. “What are you doing this summer?”
“I expect I’ll be staying right here. My momma’s gone. I heard my daddy tell the school he doesn’t know what to do with me.”
“We could study together, if you like. I don’t know the first thing about linguistics. But I do know maths.”
The boy looked ready to weep. “I’d like that better than just about anything.”
Colin rose from the table, carried his plate into the kitchen, and fell in with the others, doing his share of the Sunday evening chores. That done, he climbed the stairs to his room.
He slept and did not dream.
CHAPTER19
The next morning, Colin rose before the house. He was downstairs at six, the air through the open kitchen window surprisingly chilly. He ate another bowl of fruit and yogurt and bran flakes, then left the academy and walked along empty streets. The club held to a sleepy morning rhythm, the only fast activity coming from other early swimmers. The pool was shockingly cold, but Colin found that after half a lap he actually liked it. He took his time, carefully studying his motions, trying to move through the water like Mira. He failed, of course. But it felt better than good to use that as his goal.
Afterward he sat in one of the pool chairs facing the sun. He stayed there just half an hour, long enough to feel his skin begin to crinkle. He used his cell phone to call for an Uber, then went inside to shower and dress. The car was waiting in the club’s parking lot when he emerged.
As he traveled to the same shopping center where Arnold had taken him, Colin made a mental note to tell his adviser about using the car service for a personal matter. He knew itwas ridiculous, worrying about an unapproved Uber charge when he had lived behind so many half-truths. But this was different. He could not explain it any better than that. Nor, that particular morning, did he feel any need.
He was the barbershop’s first customer. The lone hairdresser on early duty was a young Latino who clearly disliked jazz. But when Colin asked, he grudgingly agreed to put on an album by Billie Holiday. “I don’t like what she sings, you know, with the orchestra and stuff. But the lady has got a voice that can make even that old music sound good.”
When the cut was finished, the barber asked Colin what he thought of the lady. He replied, “I never knew anyone could sing like that.”
“She knows her notes, that’s the truth.”
“She doesn’t just sing,” Colin replied. “She speaks to your heart.”
The young man chuckled as he brushed Colin down. “When the old man talked about you, I thought he was just blowing smoke. You’re okay, little man. You come back any time you like.”
As he paid, he said, “I need to buy a suit. Where is the best place for kids?”
The barber thought it over while Colin signed the debit-card slip. “Hugo Boss is probably your best bet. But they’re expensive. Else go on down to Nordstrom, the big store right at the other end.”
Colin walked the mall’s sunlit avenue, feeling the current gathering pace. There was no distance to the day, no protective element, no choice except traveling with the force, allowing himself to become part of everything he had put in place. The tension so real, so vivid, he wondered if he would ever step back from it again.
The saleslady at Hugo Boss was reluctant to serve him at first. Colin felt a vague sense of shame over needing to assureher that he could pay. It was nothing like the embarrassment that had so plagued him in the early days. But still it tarnished the moment. His discomfort grew far worse when he stood in front of the triple mirrors and viewed his body from three sides. The clothes he had bought with Arnold hung on him like a partly deflated balloon. The weight loss was shocking when seen like this. The woman appeared touched by his dismay, for she took on a professional tone and guided him through the process of selection. At her advice, he went for a jacket and two pairs of pants, two dress shirts, and a tie. Two packs of underwear. A pair of shorts and new swim trunks that fit properly. The process was both exhausting and satisfying.
