Chapter Six
Fenn Does It
Fenn came down the stairs slowly, and no one down below was paying attention because, not knowing what he had seen, why would they? He was still holding the blanket to his middle, and Todd looked up at him in concern when, suddenly, Lance Bishop, half dressed, half tumbled down the stairs looking terrified, looking at no one, then bolted through the side of the house and went out the door.
“What the hell’s going on?” Layla said.
Fenn put the blanket down on the landing while the rest of them went to look out the side windows at the form of Lance sprinting into the night, and Fenn sat down heavily in the nearest chair.
Todd came to him.
“I need to go upstairs,” Fenn murmured, dazed. “I need to go check on him.”
“Fenn?”
Dylan’s door was still open, and it was dark in his room. Fenn could hear his son sobbing into the pillows, and as he came in, by the hall light he could see Dylan, covers to his neck, curled in a terrified ball. Dylan moved further from him, still trembling. Fenn approached, and placed his hand on the boy’s head.
“Dylan, look at me.”
When Dylan wouldn’t, when he just went on weeping and trembling, Fenn said. “Well, then don’t look,” as he stroked his son’s hair. “You just go to bed right now. You just calm down. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
When Dylan’s sobbing grew louder, Fenn said, “Or we won’t.”
And then he added, “And we won’t tell Tom.”
Dylan stopped and turned around. In the dark all Fenn saw was the wetness of his face.
“Hold on,” Fenn said.
He stood up and went out of the room. A moment later he came back and said, “Show me your face.”
When he had, Fenn put his cold cloth against it. He wiped his son’s face and he kissed the boy on his forehead. Fenn pulled Dylan to him. Dylan was limp, but he felt heavy.
“You know sooner or later we have to talk about something. You can’t completely leave me in the dark. When have you ever left me in the dark? And when does not talking to your father help? Go to bed,” he said, tenderly. Standing up, after he had run a hand over his son, he went out of the room and closed the door. He couldn’t let himself think about this too much. He had to ride above this for a little while.
Coming down the steps he saw that everyone else had returned to real life, and Layla was on the phone. She put the phone to her chest as she saw her uncle coming down the steps.
“It’s Brendan.”
Fenn held out his hand and Layla brought it to him. “Bren. Hey. What’s going on?”
“It’s eleven o’clock at night.”
“Yes. Well… the point is I’m going to be here a lot of eleven o’clocks. I haven’t seen Kenny in three days. And you know what I walked in on him doing?”
“He’s a grown, lonely man and he can masturbate as much as he wants to.”
“No!” Brendan waved that away. “He was crying. He had… don’t you dare tell him I said this, cause Kenny’s not flamy and all that. But he’s having such a breakdown here. He hates it, and he’s so lonely and—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Fenn said, “We’ll be there in the morning.”
Brendan paused. “Really?”
“Yes, Bren. Really. Not Layla, cause she’s been called in to read. But, we’ll be there in the morning.”
He handed the phone back to Layla and told Todd, “I’ve got to go to bed.”
“That’s great, babe,” Todd said. “But I don’t know if I can do tomorrow morning.”
“Can you get me up to the train station in Miller?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Fenn said. “That’s what matters.”
When Fenn woke up the next morning, before he went to the bathroom, while his bladder was still stabbing him, he reached over Todd and took his cell phone. He called Tom quickly, and then hung up.
Walking on his feet first thing in the morning hurt, and he needed to rub and stretch them out a little. Wrapping the housecoat around what he considered a body of lessening glory, he went to Dylan’s bedroom, pushed open the door and then, sitting on the bedside, shook his son and whispered, “Wake up.”
Dylan grunted a little, but he opened his eyes. “Time to get up.”
“School isn’t for—”
“You’re not going to school. We’re going out of town. You’re coming to Chicago with me. Get showered and dressed. I’ll make breakfast.”
Fenn got up and went to the bathroom before waking up Todd, and then going downstairs to turn on the coffee pot. Ordinarily he would come back upstairs and sleep some more, or even put the coffeepot on the timer so that it would have been ready when he got up, but this morning he dozed in a chair and listened to the shower water running that said Dylan was in it.
When Dylan came down, Fenn pushed a mug of coffee before him and said, “I made my specialty, frozen waffles,” while Todd, newly arrived, yawned and set a pot to boiling for poaching eggs.
“The train leaves in about an hour and a half, and it will take us half as long to get to the station.”
“Where are we going?” Dylan said.
“I told you.”
“Chicago’s a big city.”
“We’re going to see Brendan and Kenny. Or more specifically: Kenny. He’s down in the dumps, and when you’re feeling down, the best thing to do is bring someone back up.”
Fenn touched his son’s head and then poured creamer into his red coffee mug.
“Where are my cigarettes?”
Todd handed him one.
“Great… I’m going upstairs to finish what I started. Where’s that book I was reading?”
No one knew it, so no one found it, and Fenn took his cup of coffee, his cigarette, and an ashtray and headed up the back stair.
When he was gone, Todd, who had been looking at Dylan, said, “You alright?”
“I’m embarrassed,” was all Dylan said.
“Yes,” Todd said. “It can be embarrassing. Getting caught. Being young. Being above your head.”
Dylan nodded. He said, “When Dad opened that door I thought I was going to die. I wish I had.”
He took a sip from his coffee. “I still feel that way.”
When Julia Amanetti walked into her new Dean of Music’s room she said: “Alright, what the fuck are you so cheerful about?”
“Such language,” Bryant said, pinching her cheek and kissing her. “Why not be happy on a day when the world is new and the sun is shining and I’m about to give my first lesson in history of Chant?
“And when I am finally learning about jazz. I should have learned about it years ago.”
Julia put out a hand. “Alright, help me because my queerdar is spinning, and it’s about to fucking fall apart. You and Ferguson?”
“I’m having a great time with him.”
“You all aren’t—” Julia started, and then she cut herself off. “You know what, it’s really none of my business.”
“No, it really isn’t,” Bryant told her with a smile. “But you’re cute when you want to be interfering.”
The phone rang.
“You can get that,” Julia said while he looked at her. Bryant shrugged and picked up the phone.
“Uncle BJ?”
“Shelley.”
“Yeah… I was about to head out the door to the store, and my back hurts like hell. So I wanted to know now, before I buy the food, are you still coming to dinner?”
“Yes, I’m coming to dinner. But if you’re feeling bad, I’ll just stay home.”
“Even if you stayed home, Claire and her brother and Kirk and Julian and the kids would still be coming. So don’t stay home on my account.”
“Well, then I’ll be there. But… Do you want me to get anything for you?”
“Yeah, I want you to get off the phone. I’ll see you tonight. Oh, bring some of that pretentious music major wine.”
“Shelley, sometimes I think you have no respect for what most of your family does.”
“Only sometimes?” she said. “See you tonight, Beej.”
She hung up the phone and then Bryant, still holding the receiver, said, “Julia, you were in the middle of telling me something.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes you—oh,” Bryant remembered. “No, I was in the middle of saying something. I was in the middle of wondering why my relationship to Nick Ferguson mattered so much.”
But before Julia could answer, someone else walked into the room. He was the same height as Julia, shorter than Bryant, compact and handsome with a five o’clock shadow.
“Chad,” Bryant said.
“Dr. Babcock,” Chad North said. “Welcome to the department.”
There was quiet and then Julia said, “This will be just like old times.”
“No, I don’t see that,” Bryant said.
Chad said, “Well, it will be just like these times, Julia. And we’ll start all over again. We’ll be starting from scratch. That’ll be exciting,” he added.
Julia, making an apparent effort at brightness, agreed.
“It’s going to be something, alright. I think with you back and Bryant back it’s really going to—”
“Give energy to the department,” Bryant joined in.
Chad blinked at him. Apparently Bryant was playing along.
“Uh…” Chad decided to play along as well, “you all were talking about Nick Ferguson.” “Right?” said Bryant. “THE Nick Ferguson?”
“We didn’t know there was a the Nick Ferguson.”
“Yes,” Chad said, glad to be able to make conversation. “Well known in the music field as is his rivalry with the literary critic, Jane Ferguson.”
“Um,” Bryant stuck out his lip. “He’s got a sister.”
“Huh?” Chad blinked at the same time Julia was about to open her mouth.
“He may have a sister,” Chad allowed. “But Jane Ferguson teaches here in the English department. And she’s his wife.”
Julia didn’t look at Bryant, and Chad said, “Can I walk one of you to class?”
“No,” Bryant said, his voice strange. “I…uh… have to gather a few things. I’ll see you later, Chad. It’s good to see you, Chad.”
Chad looked like he was trying to find something to say, and then he said, “You too, Bryant,” and turned around.
When his footsteps had faded down the hall, Bryant said, “That’s why you were quizzing me?”
“You didn’t know he was married?”
Bryant shook his head.
“It seems like I don’t know much of anything.”
