Divide The Sea Read online

  Kane nodded to me. “Most Monte Carlos have strong heart murmurs too, have you noticed that?”

  “There’s a lot that’s wrong with me.”

  “That’s the way it is. You see, my theory about Monte Carlo is that it puts equilibrium out of balance. It’s not that some things go wrong and some go right, but that you’ve got to rob Peter to pay Paul.”

  “Most Monte Carlos drop dead on the spot.” I said. “Who got paid in that deal?”

  I could see from the corner of his eyes that he was giving me a nervous look. He didn’t like the way I was staring at that fly, with my thumb poised in mid air between him and me. He waved his free hand. “Forget about it. Look, I’ve changed my mind.”

  “You should’ve told me that before you told me this other bull shit.”

  I heard the voices from the kitchen again, this time saying, “Let’s take him out back and waste him.”

  Kane said, “Okay, okay.” He showed me his palms and eased back. He was scarred of me. “Take it easy. Look at it my way. So you know I lead you on. What can I say? I was curious to see a grown Monte. They’re just single cells when I get them. But what I do is dangerous, do you know what I mean when I say dangerous?”

  “Execution. By lethal injection in this state. But only if you get caught. What about my death row?”

  “No.” He shook his head. He’d started shaking when I said the bad word.

  Again he said, “No.” He started to leave. From the other corner of my eye I saw the monkeys getting the fidgets. One of them said, “Hey dude, your order’s ready.” He put it down on the counter. They were waiting for Kane to leave so they could drag me out and take me apart. They had another thing coming. I hadn’t shown the doctor my trick yet. Kane stood up, struggling with his walking stick and bumping the table. The fly took off, and I reached out and crushed it in my hand. I turned to Kane and said, “Wait. Watch this.”

  Again the counter guy said, “Dude, come on. Get your order. Or it’s going in the trash.”

  At that moment I saw black specks coming in from the window at the kitchen’s back. The guys at the counter craned their necks at the buzzing noise and then spun when they say what was coming. They ran back there, yelling things I couldn’t understand.

  It only got worse. The kitchen was filling with flies like a wading pool filling with water. Others sitting at the tables ducked out of the place. Everyone behind the counter was running around; I don’t know what they thought they could do about it. It was as though there was a glass wall between the kitchen and us now. With all the big fat black flies, it looked like a screen full of television static.

  My order was sitting untouched on the counter top. I took it and banged open the door and left.

  * * * *

  I was half way across the street to the pond and the fishing kids when I heard the tap, tap of Kane’s walking stick close behind me. Then he grabbed me by the arm and said, “Shut up. Just come on.”

  I followed him back to sidewalk and into the barbershop. Kane changed the out-to-lunch sign to a closed sign and pulled all the shades down. It was a small room with a single barber chair in its center and a row of wicker chairs along the back. One of the guest chairs had a pile of nudie magazines. There was a big shop broom propped by a bathroom door, but by the piles of multicolored hair strewn across the floor, I wouldn’t have guessed that Kane used it much.

  “This is your front?” I said.

  “I’ve been here forty years. It’s how I got started. It’s not like I’m a real doctor. Sit.” He used his walking stick to point to the center chair.

  I grinned and sat. “I don’t need a trim. Or is that an electric chair? For people who make Monte Carlo bets?”

  “Shut up. That’s the deal. You want to know anything? Shut up.”

  He waited a second to see if I’d follow along, and then said, “Okay, kid, what you did in there was a scary piece of shit that I never want to see again. And I know it’s just the beginning. Isn’t it?”

  I nodded my head.

  He said, “But you don’t know what it is, do you? Hell, of course not. Not even we know what it is. And by we, I mean the whole of underground medicine. But I had this theory about it. Of course, no one would take me seriously because I’m a crackpot. But I know my stuff. You want to try me?”

  “Not really.” I said. “I’m happy with it. I just want to live. That’s the story I’m here for.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that your power and your death might be related?”

  “Then give it up. I’m tired of waiting.”

  “Here it goes. When we look at the world, we see trees and animals and people. We see things. But if you look at it another way, you could see the world as a constant flux of atoms, and as one stream of matter and energy flowing into another, with no boundaries. And yet we know,” Doctor Kane started pacing around his little barber shop, holding his hand in front of him. “We know, we know that even if there is a constant flux, it somehow has cohesion at certain points. What is it that causes that cohesion, besides our own imaginations?”

  I stood up and walked to the door. “I haven’t got the time for this. I really don’t.”

  “I knew a man who could cure the monkey pox.” Said the Doctor. “And he looked a lot like you.” Those words made me stop long enough for me to hear, “And he was a geneticist. A real doctor. The best I’ve ever known. And sometimes these guys like to insert their own genetic material in with the parents and the engineered stuff. They get off on it, I guess. But he really does look like you.”

  “What’s his name? Where is he?” I moved in on Kane fast, and he stumbled back and waved his arm around in search of his stick. It was leaning against the wall. He didn’t get it, and so he fell backwards, into his own barber chair.

  “I’ll look for him, and I if I find him I’ll ask if it’s okay…”

  “This is what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell me everything you know, and I’ll go look for him.”

  “Look, look, look.” He blubbered. “So you know I’m a frightened man, but I’ve got my reasons. As if the damn police weren’t enough…”

  “Do you want me to count down?”

  “So think of this. So there’s this force, right? It binds the flux into living objects. You crushed a fly, and then you brought a swarm of flies. By killing that one thing, you had for a time a power to control that force, at least as it applied to flies. Are you with me? This man I’m talking about, he could touch a man infected with the monkey pox, and take away the disease. He could kill every last viral pod inside the body. But once he’d taken the disease out of a man, he had the power to put it into some other man. You see? He’s very, very dangerous. I’m more scared of him than I am of you, so you’re not getting anything out of me.”

  I backed off, and I nodded my head. I walked over to the counter top, where there was a dirty sink and a jar of green germ killer and piles of receipts. I took one of the receipts and one of the doc’s greasy pens, and I wrote down my phone number. I handed him the slip and left the barbershop without saying a word.

  * * * *

  I didn’t sleep well that night. I had that dream again. The one where the people never stopped burning. My Dad had told me how he saw them running across the road at night, all lit up like breathing, screaming torches. In reality, they had died and the fire consumed their flesh, and then the fire died. And in reality, the only fire I had seen was the one Sam lit on the end of the fuse he’d fashioned.

  But in my dreams, I was standing in the middle of the road as the trailer people came running up to it, and kneeled on the pavement. The flames enveloped their entire bodies, but they never died, and the fire never burned them up. Still, they would scream – and they would turn and look me in the eye.

  Damn you.

  Why me?

  You’re one of them.

  * * * *

  The next day was that of Sam’s party. I was eager to see his dad, who had always seeme
d to me a voice of reason. He had a strong mind, like my Dad, but he could see thing like my Mom did. And he was intelligent, like me. That’s why it confused me that he was Sam’s dad, of all people.

  Everyone knew about the trailer park, but they didn’t say anything. Sam’s dad had to move his family someplace else, another clone of the place where he used to live and where I grew up. There’s no choice; everywhere it’s the same.

  I walked to the edge of campus, where I could get a cab to take me to the train. Back then, the rails were our people’s private transportation. Trains were clean and fast and they suffered none of the pains of our world’s choking roads and skies. They were also expensive.

  At the campus gate, the brick paths and flowering trees gave way to a fierce barricade. A rampart of buzzing steal boxes and video cameras covered the gate. The fence was electrified. It worked better than pudding and vinegar. The directors didn’t think that kind of muscle was out of order; I‘d heard the stories of monkey teenagers crashing through the gates and letting off small explosives. So I didn’t tell the directors that I was leaving by myself, just as I pleased.

  I left the campus. Across the street I saw a strange thing. There was an old car. It was square and missing a lot of paint, and in it was a woman about my Mom’s age. She sat still and looked ahead. She looked like she was waiting. I walked passed her as I went to the taxi stand, and at that moment she turned to me.

  “Hey.” She said. Her face and her hair were gray. Her eyes were blue and cold and sad. “I know it seems strange, but you look like you need a ride.”

  “Got one.”

  The woman looked over the side of the car door and down at the ground. Then she looked up, and started the car. “Sorry.” She said as she drove away. “Maybe some other time.”

  * * * *

  I rode the train to Sam’s town and stood outside the station. Sam’s dad drove up. He rolled down the window and told me to get in. I climbed into the truck and leaned back into the soft seat cushion. The air was cool and the sounds of a piano issued from the radio. The older man had a full head of shiny gray hair cropped close to his head. He wore a pair of sunglasses and a slight smile was ever present on his lips.

  “Hope you don’t mind.” He said, and chuckled. “I was getting some last minute things at the store, and I thought I’d drive by to see if anyone was here. None of your classmates were on the train with you?”

  “No. Have any come yet?”

  “All but you, I guess.”

  “I’m late?”

  “No, you’ve just got better things to do. Do you mind the music? I can change it if you want.”

  “It’s Alfred Brendel playing a late Beethoven piano sonata. Don’t you remember that I played?”

  “Learned anything new lately?”

  I shuddered. As the words about the music left my mouth, I hoped he didn’t remember anything about my sister, or that she played music. That was the thing that killed her. I hoped the man wouldn’t ask me about her; I wasn’t sure if he knew she was dead. I said, “No. I’ve learned some other things though.”

  Sam’s dad took in a breath as though ready to make one of his famous speeches, and I felt relieved. He said, “But not from school, right? Good for you. I always hated that damn loony pot when I was there. And it’s too bad that college is four years of the same – so no wonder you’re all so well prepared. Sorry for the lecture, but now’s the time that you’ve got to keep your head screwed on. What I like most about you is that they haven’t managed to stitch your brains closed. Those other kids are smart, but how’s it a nickel of good for them? Years ago I fought the introduction of those standardized tests you just finished taking. Is it any wonder that once some cretins made some tests, the whole system changed to teach kids to take the tests? Now that we’re playing chimp with our kid’s DNA before they’re born – those chicken shit tests make for an easy answer about what to shoot for when it comes to something so complex as intellect. So all the kids are made for it and God forbid that anyone try to change the tests now that we’ve sunk our money and our kid’s lives into them. We’re in this hole for good, Nelson. It’s kids like you that have got to climb out of it. The rest of us are chained to solid earth.”

  I got the point. He could’ve just said that people don’t know how to make decisions for themselves, or their children, and that trendy styles are fine for summer skirts and soda bottles, but not for genetics. But this was the guy that made Sam. I don’t know, maybe I was a little star struck when I was a kid, or just starving for someone with some kind of smarts. But I was beginning to see that this man was a pompous ass.

  * * * *

  The house was as grand as I could’ve imagined. We passed through the gates at the front and followed a long road that cut through lawns and rows of trees. The house appeared, standing on its bluff overlooking the ocean. It was now twilight, and the light colors of the house faded into sea sky, and the many lazy yellow lights resting in its windows floated in the air.

  I walked through the center hall, my sneakers squeaking on the marble floor. Prints of famous paintings hung on the walls. I had been in lots of these homes before, and all the paintings had been originals by contemporary artists.

  I stepped out onto the wide back deck. At the far end was a swimming pool, and the deck was spotted by lampposts topped by flames. The flickering light glowed on all the young and pretty faces in the dying day light. Seeing them all in one spot, I was struck by how many of the boys looked a little like an actor that was popular around the time we were born. I made my way out to the edge of the deck and put my hands on the railing and leaned out toward the ocean. Gulls swooped from the air and cawed.

  I felt someone standing behind me. I turned and saw Sam’s older sister. I’d forgotten all about her. Her name was Amy. Amy used to hang out with my sister. She never really seemed bothered when my sister went away, though. She was one of those types of girls.

  She had her hair tied up, and she let it down and smiled at me and said, “Do you remember me?”

  “Amy.” I said. “I know you.”

  “You have a good memory. I suppose I should expect that. No one forgets these days.”

  I leaned in close to her. “I’ve been thinking about some things. Tell me what your dad does.”

  “Drugs.” She smiled again and cocked her head. “He sells drugs to the people who still get sick.”

  “Does he like it?”

  “I guess he must. You can see what it’s done for him. You’re too curious, Nelson. But I know why you ask. You’re impressed.”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh, come on. Admit it.” She nudged me. “Dad gives people this impression. These days he seems to want to be everyone’s best friend. Maybe the guilt’s got to him. I’m sure he doesn’t seem crazy to you, but you better believe he’s a Doctor Demento. If you let him get to you, he’ll sucker you good. He tried it on me for years, but Sam got out of it because even Dad knew he was stupid.”

  “What did he try to sucker you with?”

  She turned and put her back against the railing. She bobbed her head a bit and looked out at the pool. “That we’re all a part of some conspiracy to oppress the poor and genetically unmodified. That we’re all chasing worthless things, and we’re stealing from others to make it happen. Well, look at the monkeys, do they want us to stop oppressing them? They want to be us, Nelson. And anyone can get money, and money’s all it takes. But Dad’s guilty because he’s made his money off sick monkeys. But what’s he going to do? They need drugs.”

  “Do you think…”

  “Shut up.” She turned to face me again and propped her shoulder on the railing with one arm. “Do you think there’s a conspiracy? Some day you’ll grow up. You know what’s so annoying about you? You walk and talk like you’re so much better than these other kids. Like you got it figured out. I’ve always known that. So what did your parents do to make you so much smarter and better looking?”

  I sa
id, “I never said anything about that. I’d like to think I just pay better attention. What’s your point? Are you trying to tell me something? What?”

  She only smiled.

  I said, “Have you always felt this way about me?”

  Her head snapped away from me, but she was embarrassed of the reflex and tried to take it back. She looked down at the pool as if searching the depths for something.

  “You see.” I said, “All I do is pay attention.”

  She walked away, saying, “You just remember, my Dad’s got a big head too.”

  * * * *

  As the party wound down and the kids went home, I wandered into the house. Sam’s dad was coming down the stairs. He told me I could stay the night if I liked. I said I would stay, and he offered to show me around the place.

  We walked in the tall corridors of the big house, and passed by the big prints of famous pictures. The man came to one and said, “This is Salvador Dali’s ‘Old Age of William Tell’. You see, these two figures are Adam and Eve with their heads hung in shame. And the old man is William Tell, the guy who tried to split an apple resting on his kid’s head using an arrow. He’s a macho guy, you see, but in this picture he’s old and weak and two women are bathing him…”

  “The paintings aren’t originals?” I said.

  “You can’t purchase the originals, they’re in museums. The days when art was possible are behind us, but that doesn’t stop my neighbors from hiding their walls behind some idiot’s scratching. There’s no prestige in hanging prints, only in the fat of your money gut. But if you’ve got no taste, what have you got besides public opinion?”

  “You want to teach me? I like art and music, but it sounds like you’ve got other things on your mind. Any business about what I think of other people, that’s off your leash.”

  “Off my leash, kid? But this is about your freedom. What if your parents never told you what to eat when you were young? You would’ve eaten chocolate bars until you died, no doubt. That’s not freedom, but slavery to your bad choices. Kids know nothing of what’s best for them, and adults know little more. I’ll bet your parents would’ve taken the fight out of you if they could. Thank God there are some things we can’t control.”