Independence had been the goal for Theodore Campion— from his raucous high school graduation where he’d led members of his class to protest the dismissal of an openly gay teacher by waving rainbow flags during the ceremony, to having all that frightened him about his home town made manifest in the spectacle of Feenie Huggins raising her hammer. The ties that bound him were few, he supposed, and hoped.
Ted had freely chosen this most recent trip, spurred by Canada’s visa requirements, and had planned the solar project for Orville as a way to make it up to him for years of absence. He had made a decent start as an older brother, turning Orrie on to “Zen and the Art of Motocycle Maintenance” and “The Fountainhead;” taking him to see Dave Brubeck at the Tennessee Theatre in Knoxville in 2003 when Orrie was 16 and interested in jazz and Ted wasn’t; and giving him tips on how to pleasure a woman (which neither of them put into practice for years). But Ted’s need for novelty and movement, compulsion to sexually experiment, and belief that he was captain of his own soul had triumphed. Now he wasn’t sure he could stay another day in this place.
He could probably manage to spend the obligatory months in Seattle, but neither of the ex-lovers he knew there were speaking to him. He couldn’t afford to rent anything; his extravagant gift had used up most of his savings, and he didn’t have any American installation jobs lined up. He couldn’t move to New Haven; he hadn’t been invited. Plus, the magic of that one night probably wouldn’t survive even temporary domesticity.
Ted didn’t want to admit it, but he missed Vancouver Island. He missed Jake and Tally and their dinners and conversations. How long would they be around on this planet? Edwina’s father was on the way out, he’d heard, but not from her, so he didn’t say anything. She’d driven off this morning to see the dying man and wouldn’t be back for a few days. The news, though, had swirled around his other thoughts all day, darkening them.
What he could do, he supposed, was write that speech for Edwina. She would add the human interest part, but he could provide her with a clear description of what they’d installed and how it worked, and how much money it might save, and the reasons why solar, wind, and other alternative energy sources HAD to be the way of the future. It was the least he could do if he wasn’t going to attend the big publicity event, which Edwina had scheduled for two weeks from yesterday.
Aaron had said his farewells and left for New Haven already in the truck--with the damaged panel and various tools. Orville was still at work. Ted lit a joint, had a couple of tokes, and switched on his iPad. He heard a voice at the back door. “Miz Campion? Can I come in?” It was Kendall Huggins. The boy had been staying with Edwina and Orville part of the time, but spent some nights in the house next door. Nothing seemed to have been done about his situation. There had been no funeral for his grandmother. “Come on in,” Ted yelled. He was not heartless, but neither was he going to entertain the boy.
“They’re evicting me,” the boy said, showing Ted the notice.
“Your grandmother didn’t own that place?”
“No, sir. We been renting since I started goin' to school.”
“She didn’t leave you anything? Did she have a will?” It dawned on Ted that these might be confusing questions for a 13-year-old.
“Kendall, you have to find a permanent place. And someone to be what they call a 'guardian.' I’m not volunteering, though! Mr. and Mrs. Campion will come up with something, I’m sure. Why don’t you help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge and watch some television?”
Ted, half-listening to his own words, felt how inadequate they were for this boy’s probable needs. Kendall must have loved his grandmother despite her wide streak of insanity. But what could he do? He himself needed a permanent place. It might be time to make a commitment to the only partner he would ever consider staying with forever: an entire huge country, but one that he loved, yes, loved, having traversed it so recently and taken in its beauty once again.
Forget the mandatory stay in the U.S. He would return to his island and apply ASAP for Canadian citizenship.
— Macoff
Ted had freely chosen this most recent trip, spurred by Canada’s visa requirements, and had planned the solar project for Orville as a way to make it up to him for years of absence. He had made a decent start as an older brother, turning Orrie on to “Zen and the Art of Motocycle Maintenance” and “The Fountainhead;” taking him to see Dave Brubeck at the Tennessee Theatre in Knoxville in 2003 when Orrie was 16 and interested in jazz and Ted wasn’t; and giving him tips on how to pleasure a woman (which neither of them put into practice for years). But Ted’s need for novelty and movement, compulsion to sexually experiment, and belief that he was captain of his own soul had triumphed. Now he wasn’t sure he could stay another day in this place.
He could probably manage to spend the obligatory months in Seattle, but neither of the ex-lovers he knew there were speaking to him. He couldn’t afford to rent anything; his extravagant gift had used up most of his savings, and he didn’t have any American installation jobs lined up. He couldn’t move to New Haven; he hadn’t been invited. Plus, the magic of that one night probably wouldn’t survive even temporary domesticity.
Ted didn’t want to admit it, but he missed Vancouver Island. He missed Jake and Tally and their dinners and conversations. How long would they be around on this planet? Edwina’s father was on the way out, he’d heard, but not from her, so he didn’t say anything. She’d driven off this morning to see the dying man and wouldn’t be back for a few days. The news, though, had swirled around his other thoughts all day, darkening them.
What he could do, he supposed, was write that speech for Edwina. She would add the human interest part, but he could provide her with a clear description of what they’d installed and how it worked, and how much money it might save, and the reasons why solar, wind, and other alternative energy sources HAD to be the way of the future. It was the least he could do if he wasn’t going to attend the big publicity event, which Edwina had scheduled for two weeks from yesterday.
Aaron had said his farewells and left for New Haven already in the truck--with the damaged panel and various tools. Orville was still at work. Ted lit a joint, had a couple of tokes, and switched on his iPad. He heard a voice at the back door. “Miz Campion? Can I come in?” It was Kendall Huggins. The boy had been staying with Edwina and Orville part of the time, but spent some nights in the house next door. Nothing seemed to have been done about his situation. There had been no funeral for his grandmother. “Come on in,” Ted yelled. He was not heartless, but neither was he going to entertain the boy.
“They’re evicting me,” the boy said, showing Ted the notice.
“Your grandmother didn’t own that place?”
“No, sir. We been renting since I started goin' to school.”
“She didn’t leave you anything? Did she have a will?” It dawned on Ted that these might be confusing questions for a 13-year-old.
“Kendall, you have to find a permanent place. And someone to be what they call a 'guardian.' I’m not volunteering, though! Mr. and Mrs. Campion will come up with something, I’m sure. Why don’t you help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge and watch some television?”
Ted, half-listening to his own words, felt how inadequate they were for this boy’s probable needs. Kendall must have loved his grandmother despite her wide streak of insanity. But what could he do? He himself needed a permanent place. It might be time to make a commitment to the only partner he would ever consider staying with forever: an entire huge country, but one that he loved, yes, loved, having traversed it so recently and taken in its beauty once again.
Forget the mandatory stay in the U.S. He would return to his island and apply ASAP for Canadian citizenship.
— Macoff
good for Ted - - wondering what will happen to Kendall! :)
ReplyDeleteI'm rooting for Ted to reexplore the magic of the one night and Canadian citizenship is no easy row to hoe.
ReplyDeleteThis is like the middle of a fugue when everything is complicated, eagerly awaiting the next bits
ReplyDelete