Thunderland Page 17

  “You can’t do it. I won’t let you.”

  “You can’t stop me. You made me the owner, remember? You can’t do anything but stand aside and watch me sell it.”

  “Why do you want to sell it?” Big George said. “What’s wrong with you? That’s your business, boy. Do you know how many black men dream of having a business? Do you know how fortunate you are?”

  “Maybe I am fortunate to have the restaurant. But I don’t have peace of mind. I’m good at the job, but I never wanted to own a restaurant. It was your dream, not mine. You forced me to live your dream. I refuse to do it anymore.”

  Big George glowered at him. “You’re going to live your own dream, huh?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re going to try to be an architect, ain’t you?”

  “Very good, Dad. I’m surprised you remember.”

  “How the hell could I forget? That was all you ever talked about when you were a kid.”

  “I’ve always wanted to be an architect,” Thomas said. “Remember those drawings I’d put in notebooks when I was younger? Those notebooks you’d make me throwaway?”

  “I remember,” Big George said. “When I made you throw that shit away, I was trying to do you a favor and save you the trouble of learning the hard way that you ain’t got what it takes. As I see now, I was wasting my damn time.”

  “I don’t expect you to support my decision,” Thomas said. “But I plan to attend college, get my degree, and go forward from there. It’ll take a few years-and a lot of hard work-but I’m gonna do it.”

  “You’re betraying me,” Big George said, and actually managed to appear stricken. “You know that, you ungrateful bastard? After all I’ve done for you, you do this to me. Betrayal!”

  “Let’s not talk about betrayal. As far as I’m concerned, you betrayed me the day I was born.”

  Big George’s wounded look deepened.

  Thomas, on the other hand, felt as if an enormous burden had eased off him. His father’s injured pose did not worry him, for it was just that: a pose. A skilled manipulator, Big George could fake any emotion he thought would help him get what he wanted. He wanted Thomas to keep the restaurant so he could continue to live his fantasy through him. If making Thomas feel guilt-ridden would help him accomplish that goal, he would put on an act worthy of an Oscar nomination.

  “You might as well give up the act,” Thomas said. “You won’t make me feel guilty about this.”

  Instantly, Big George’s pitiful expression changed to reflect what he really felt, which was anger. “What the hell brought all of this about? Are you doing drugs? Yeah, that’s it. You’re messing with that crack shit, ain’t you?”

  “No. I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking the past few days.

  At last I know who I am, where I’m going, and what’s most important to me. It took a long time, but I’ve finally become a real man.”

  Big George rolled his eyes.

  “There’s one last thing,” Thomas said.

  Big George grunted. “What?”

  “For my entire life, I’ve hated you.”

  “I know that, boy. I don’t give a damn. So why are you telling me?”

  “Well, I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

  Big George chuckled. “Oh, you love me? Is that part of your new life, too? Get a new job, then start putting on a bullshit love act for your old man?”

  “No, that’s not it. I don’t hate you anymore because I’ve released the hate, let it go. It was hurting me more than it was you—controlling my life.”

  Big George nodded listlessly.

  “Although I don’t hate you,” Thomas said, “I don’t love you, either. I don’t like saying that, but I’m being honest. You never did anything to deserve my love, Dad, even though I tried everything to get love from you. So for the rest of our relationship, I’m just going to be tolerating you.”

  Big George had closed his eyes.

  “I know you’re listening,” Thomas said. “I know you really don’t give a damn about how I feel. But I had to tell you. If by some miracle you develop into a normal human being with normal feelings, you’ll know what you have to overcome to win me over.”

  Big George yawned.

  Thomas stifled the urge to laugh at his father’s childish antics. Jesus, this man was pathetic. How had he lived in fear of this poor excuse for a man?

  The weight that his dad had burdened him with for all of those years had departed. For the first time ever, he felt free. When he stood, he had to check the sudden desire to leap into the air and click his heels together like a happy cartoon character.

  “By the way, remember I told you that Linda said she’s divorcing me?”

  His eyes opened. “Yeah. I hope she goes through with it.”

  “Anyway, I’m going to try to convince her to give me another chance.”

  “Gonna feed her some good lies, like I would do?”

  “No, I’m going to admit that I made a big mistake,” Thomas said. “I’m going to apologize. I’m going to beg her to forgive me. I’m going to promise that I’ll never do it again. I watched you do that routine with Mama whenever you made a mistake. I remember all the steps.”

  “Like father, like son,” Big George said.

  “Not anymore, Dad. Because unlike you, when I talk to my wife, I’m going to be sincere, “he said, and turned away from his father and walked out.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  At Brains’s house, in the den, Jason recounted the carnival incident for Brains and Shorty.

  “That’s amazing,” Brains said. Sitting on the recliner, he regarded Jason with awe. “Falling off that Ferris wheel without a single bruise to show for it. Incredible. Only because you imagined yourself falling safely.”

  “Yeah, that’s how it seemed to work,” Jason said from his place on the couch. “But I didn’t get a chance to see if I could do other stuff there, just by using my imagination. The next time any of us are in Thunderland, we’ll have to try it. I mean, if it really works, it could help us. It’s power.”

  Perched on the arm of the sofa, Shorty said, “Yeah, maybe so, but it ain’t shit compared to the Stranger’s power. Man, he comes out of a Ouija board and raises hell, he goes around invisible leaving gifts for you, he calls you on the phone from who knows where, he pulls us into some dream world where he runs the show, and now he’s turned into your girlfriend. Shit, that’s power, man. How the hell can we beat that?”

  “We can do two things,” Brains said. He pushed up his glasses on his nose. “The Stranger’s said that he wants to fulfill Jason’s secret wishes, and he’s done two things for Jason so far. My guess is that he’ll try to give Jason a third wish, too. The Stranger seems to consider himself a genie or something like that, and you know that genies always grant three wishes.”

  “I wish this guy was a genie, man,” Shorty said. “I’d rub the magic lamp and put his ass back in there.”

  Brains chuckled. “Anyway, assuming that Jason has another wish to be granted, if we can predict Jason’s next wish, maybe we can set a trap for the Stranger.” He looked at Jason. “Get it?”

  “I get it,” Jason said. “But I have no idea what my next wish is. The only thing I’d really thought about was getting that bike. Sure, I fantasized about doing it with Michelle, but I wasn’t dreaming about it all the time or anything. I don’t really know what he’s going to do next.”

  “Don’t you wish for a million bucks?” Shorty said. “Or to take a trip to the moon, something like that?”

  Jason shook his head. “Sorry. No.”

  Shorty shrugged and looked at Brains. “Forget that, then. Okay, Brains, you said we could do two things. What’s the other one?”

  “You’ll say it’s crazy,” Brains said.

  “It can’t be any crazier than everything else we’ve been through,” Jason said. “Go ahead and tell us.”

  “Okay. You should fall out of a tree again, Jason.”

&nbs
p; Shock propelled Jason off the couch. “What?”

  Brains spoke calmly. “When you fell out of the tree in March, you went into a coma that erased your memory of the Stranger. Basically, falling out of the tree somehow knocked the Stranger out of your conscious mind. If you fall again, maybe you’ll knock the Stranger back into your conscious thoughts. You’ll reverse the memory block by reliving the accident. Understand?”

  “No, I don’t understand at all.” Jason returned to the sofa. “That’s the nuttiest thing I’ve ever heard, Brains. You want me to go into another coma?”

  Brains shrugged. “You might not go into a coma this time.”

  “Right, I might go into a casket,” Jason said. “No, I’m not doing it. What do you think, Shorty?”

  “You want me to be honest?” Shorty said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You should do it,” Shorty said.

  “Are you serious?” He stared at Shorty, then at Brains. They appeared sane and reasonable. Why, then, were they suggesting that he take such a foolish risk?

  “Want to know why?” Shorty said. His voice hardened. “Because the Stranger’s a mean motherfucker, that’s why. Remember how he tore up Brains’s room when you guys used the Ouija? Remember how he scared the mess out of me and Brains when you were hypnotized? Remember how he’s been playing with us, teasing us, since all of this shit started? I know, he acts like he’s this great old buddy of yours, granting you these wishes and all of that shit-but he’s got a mean streak, man. He’s coldblooded as hell, and he’s going to really start showing it soon. I can feel it. You should take that fall before he hurts someone.”

  Jason sat in silence, soaking up Shorty’s words.

  Brains and Shorty watched him, equally silent.

  “All right, I guess I see what you mean,” Jason said. “I’m worried that the Stranger might hurt someone, too. But what if I jump out of a tree, hit my head, black out, wake up, and still don’t remember anything about him? Or what if I knock my head hard and black out—and go into a coma and never wake up again? I’m not sure I can take the risk.”

  “It has to be your decision,” Brains said. ‘We can’t make it for you.”

  ‘Think about it, man,” Shorty said. “You don’t have to decide this minute.”

  “No, I need to make a choice,” Jason said. “If the Stranger keeps busy like he has been, I might not have time to think about this later. I’ll choose now.”

  He slipped his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. He withdrew a quarter. He held the shiny coin in the air.

  ‘What’s that for?” Brains said.

  “The way I see it, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that doing the fall will get rid of my memory block. So, there should be a fifty-fifty chance that I’ll agree to do it. The best way to split the odds equally is to flip a coin. That’s what I’m going to do.” He stood.

  Shorty and Brains rose. They gathered around him.

  Holding the quarter in his hand, Jason said, “Heads, I fall. Tails, I don’t.”

  “Man, I hope you know what you’re doing,” Shorty said.

  Jason flipped the coin in the air, caught it in one hand as it dropped, and slapped it onto the back of his other hand. Slowly he took away the hand that covered the quarter.

  Heads.

  “Look, girl, I’m telling you,” Alice said on the telephone to Linda, “you need to cool off before you dash off to a lawyer and start divorce proceedings. Don’t be rash. Give yourself time to chill.”

  “Chill?” Linda said. She held the handset to her ear, pacing the kitchen. “How can I chill when all I can think about how is many nights Thomas spent with that whore? When I wonder about what diseases he caught from her and passed on to me?”

  “Girl, you need to think about whether you really want to go through with this divorce thing,” Alice said. “Yes, Thomas made a big mistake, and you’re hurt and mad as hell. But before you do anything, you need to sit down and talk to him. Give him a chance to explain his side. He said he left that woman.”

  “He’s lying,” Linda said. “Don’t you see? All he ever does is lie to me.”

  “I know what happened,” Alice said. “I bet he dropped that woman and she got pissed, so she figured she’d get revenge by wrecking your marriage. She probably filmed that tape months ago, and was waiting for a chance to send it to you. You’re reacting exactly the way she wants you to, girl.”

  Linda stopped pacing and leaned against the counter. “I don’t care about what she’s thinking. I’m only concerned about Thomas. Why did he lie to me? That’s all I want to know. Why didn’t he tell me the truth?”

  “Would you have wanted to hear the truth, Lin?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “Please. Now you’re the one guilty of lying.”

  ‘Well, maybe I am.” Linda shrugged. “I’m just ... I don’t know how I feel. I’m mad, hurt, and still crazy about Thomas all at once. He’s been so sweet lately, everything’s been so perfect.” She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. “Why did this have to happen?”

  “I can’t tell you,” Alice said. “All I can tell you is this: give yourself time to cool off, then sit down and talk to Thomas. Don’t run off and do something you’ll regret later.”

  “I’m sick of thinking about this, Alice. Right now I feel like having a drink. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to hang up now and pour some Jack’s.”

  “Don’t overdo it,” Alice said. “And if you have a drink or two, keep your ass out of your car. It would break my heart if I read about you in tomorrow’s paper.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good. I love you, Lin.”

  “Love you, too, Alice. As usual, thanks for being my shoulder to cry on. Good-bye.”

  Linda hung up. Lord, she craved a drink, thirsted for the tranquility that only getting drunk could bring. She had promised Jason that she would never drink again, but this was a unique situation. It was okay this time. She would only do it once.

  Yeah, right. That’s what everyone says when they start drinking again. Who do you think you’re fooling?

  She blocked out those disturbing thoughts. On the dinette table, she placed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, a bottle of Sprite, and a large pitcher filled with ice cubes. She mixed the liquor and soda in the container, going heavy on the whiskey. She poured the concoction into a tall glass.

  As she was taking her first smooth sip, Thomas entered the kitchen through the connecting door to the garage.

  “Linda, what are you doing?” He came to the table, frowning.

  “What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Planning to drink. Too much. Way too much.”

  “Congratulations, you smart asshole. Want a cookie?”

  She gulped her drink in an exaggerated manner, tipping the glass high, slurping, and then belching. Watching her silently, Thomas didn’t appear half as astounded as she expected him to be. Well, he could kiss her ass. Whether he was there or not, she was going to get wasted.

  He pulled out a chair and sat. “I didn’t come here to argue. I came here to apologize.”

  “Oh, really? I thought you came to fuck me and record it on video, so you could play it back tonight for your girlfriend.”

  He cringed. “I told you, I broke up with her.”

  “You’ve told me a lot of shit that wasn’t true.”

  “You’re right, I have. I’m not denying it. I’ve been a lying, manipulating bastard, and 1don’t blame you for doubting me. But it’s different now. I’m different now.”

  “That’s what they all say.” She reached for her glass. When she grasped it, his big hand closed over hers.

  “Please, listen to me,” he said. “Stop drinking and listen to me.”

  “I told you not to ever touch me.”

  “Linda, come on—”

  “Get your hand off mine.”

  He sighed. He withdrew his hand.

  She took another pull of her dr
ink.

  “Drinking won’t solve anything,” he said. “Our problems won’t just go away.”

  “No, but I wish you would.”

  “I’m not leaving, Linda. We’ve been married too long for us not to work this out.”

  “I don’t want to work it out. All I want is a divorce.”

  “You don’t mean that. You want us to stay together every bit as much as I do.”

  “I get it. You’re a mind reader now. You’ve gone from being a complete dog to a sorry-assed mind reader in one day.”

  “I know you’re hurt, sweetheart,” he said. “After what I’ve done, you have every right to feel hurt. But all I ask is that you meet me halfway. I can’t do it by myself.”

  Why did he have to sound so damned reasonable? So willing to compromise and sacrifice? Why wasn’t he like this before? It pissed her off that he had to be backed into a corner like this before he woke up.

  “No,” she said. “It’s too late for that. You had your chance, and you blew it.”

  “Meet me halfway,” he said again. “We’ve been through a lot together, baby. We can grow past this.”

  His level-headedness annoyed her. He was too smooth, too practiced. He didn’t really understand what he had done to her, to them. He didn’t understand the depth of her wounds.

  “No,” she said. She stood, picked up her glass and the pitcher.

  He rose. “Where are you going?”

  “To get drunk. In peace.” She walked down the hallway, went inside her office, shut the door, and locked it.

  He knocked.

  “Open the door, honey. Please.”

  She sat at her desk, in front of the computer.

  He rapped again.

  “Please, Linda. Let me in.”

  She gazed at the blank computer screen, arms crossed over her chest.

  “I’ll do anything to convince you that I deserve another chance,” he said. “Anything to convince you that I’m sorry, that I really love you, and that I plan to show you that I do, every day.”