Silver
by MCVT
27 Nov 2022 1700 readers Score 9.3 (44 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt
Although I was the center of the event, I didn’t ask about it. I knew he loved me, that was enough.
Questions about my birth made him feel like he might fall apart again, he said.
Through my life I saw him fall apart. Scared me at first to see him crying, like giving off sparks before he started flailing, exploding with names of people. People who weren’t there.
***
Infants accept what’s around them as normal. For me it was the sound of an engine and the radio. Backdrop to my life—music and motors.
Too young to recall the wooden crate I rode in while Lyle drove his ‘66 GMC. Winters, Lyle plowed snow ‘round the clock until the snow was too high or he met with a rock slide. On his CB, he’d alert the county highway crews. Called me his little “88.”
The crate held two jars of hot water wrapped in towels, a heavy blanket and me wrapped in another blanket filled the box. I got tied into the box and the box tied to the seat.
Lyle said I loved riding with him to Manny’s house snowy mornings while the weather reports blared between the Bee Gee’s new releases.
***
That old wooden crate held holiday decorations when I grew out of it. Dug through the hall closet for the box and pushed it to Bummer.
Bummer came for the holidays. Drove the snowplow with Lyle, chopped the tree, decorated the house. Made cocoa and let me sit by him, watch Kojak, M*A*S*H.
Bummer was almost the opposite of Lyle. Younger, with a deep voice, wide smile and his every word sounded chocolate-coated. Dark beard, heavy, prickly. Furry all over his back and shoulders. Big guy with huge arms and thighs.
Bummer called Lyle his “pecan sandy.”
Funniest thing about Lyle, his eyes and hair were the same color, light brown. Summers, when he tanned, he was almost the same color all over. Weird looking, handsome. Lean, tall, man and carrying a toddler on his shoulders.
Me.
***
The ancestors were itinerant miners. did okay in the 1880s. They liked the open atmosphere of Aspen—didn’t like swinging the shovel and pick in a dark hole. Saw the need to operate a small supply business carrying mining provisions, tools.
Saved and bought acreage south of Aspen on highway 82 about a quarter mile off the road. Mostly rock with spindly stands of aspen and pine. Planted their family near the Roaring Fork River, hoping to but never opened a fishing camp.
***
Aspen’s silver still drew miners through the 1960s. Mountains, clear skies, rivers and skiing drew the wealthy, the celebrities. Newer miners arrived to mine the wealthier folk. Swindlers, con men and star-struck hopefuls came and went.
Common to see a famous musician or actor in the grocery store shopping with us. Our town had established itself as a haven for hemp-heads. Liberal, laid-back atmosphere defined Aspen for decades, drew the artsy types who built vacation homes here.
***
Lyle’s dad became a crop duster after he returned from Korea. Took Lyle, taught him to fly.
Lyle enlisted, flew supply planes, helicopters in Vietnam. Came home to keep the Cessna running and continued dusting crops on weekends. Week days, he worked as a mechanic for Manny and I became a part-time son in Manny’s family during those hours. They were a second family to me.
Manny’s son was five years older than me, Chip was my best friend. Manny’s daughter was my age, we went through school together. Because I lived south of town, they were my daily playmates.
1973
Big blizzard in ‘73 when Bummer came. Early winter, frigid winds. That was the year I turned four.
Everything was white as we drove into Stapelton airport. Rows of red brake lights ahead gave traffic holiday color. Steeleye Span voiced Gaudete in the back ground—Lyle said that was a close as we’d get to religion.
Bummer waited out front with white foam boxes. Snow swirling, Lyle got out and hugged Bummer for a long time. Old friends, both flew Hueys.
“Sookie, sookie now!” Bummer said when he saw me, squatted in front of me, pushed my hair out of my face. “Who’s your daddy?”
Adults acted stupid when they noticed me. Asked if I wore lipstick, mascara. They thought I was exceptionally cute, big eyes and dark, curly hair. Old people waved money, others offered candy to take a photo of me.
My looks didn’t get me anything extra. Lyle said I had to be a boy first, took me away.
Sat on Bummer’s lap on the way home from Denver that night. He smelled good, kinda like sweat and something deep purple and mysterious.
Patchouli and weed.
***
Seafood filled the foam boxes he brought. Shrimp, oysters, scallops. He brought wine, brandy and two baggies.
In the kitchen, Bummer opened one baggie, took a sniff and smiled. Put the other in the freezer.
“Zigs?” He asked Lyle.
“Nope. Gave it up.”
“Don’t believe you.”
Lyle brought a photo, orangey, fuzzy, old. It hung by the closet door in his room. Him with Sunny holding Alice.
He looked at me, then back to Bummer, “To keep Argento, I had to gave it up. Cleared out the entire house, tossed everything.” He tilted his head, “Child welfare and all—Pops told me to watch myself. We had a hard-assed sheriff back then.”
“Argento?” Bummer looked at me, “What’s it mean?”
“Silver.” I thought for a second, “What means sookie?”
“Means sweet in French.” He kissed my forehead, studied my face. “Sookie-boy.”
“Are you really a bum?”
“My nick name. I’m Asher Bumbough, from San Fran.”
Undeterred by lack of rolling papers, Bummer grabbed an apple and began carving. Made a quickie pipe, rolled a receipt from his jacket pocket into a straw, stuck it in a little hole in the apple. He packed it, and pulled out a lighter. “I remember you mentioned a gal named Sunny. Where is she?”
He passed the apple-pipe to Lyle who took it and looked at me, “Don’t tell.”
Deep inhale, held it. Then squeaked, “Talk later.”
***
They had drinks, got really hungry, ate a lot and got lazy. Went to the freezer and got my own ice cream. They told me to bring the container and two spoons.
Dozed between them on the couch. Someone covered me up over my head and they continued talking. San Francisco Bay, the Sierras, surfing, Bummer talked about living on a houseboat, operating a crane on the docks.
In low tones, Lyle told Bummer that my mother died in an accident on the highway, “Coming back from Kansas not long after Gento was born.”
***
We hadn’t built a fire that night. Early in the morning it was cold, I had to run across the cold tiles in the bathroom to pee, then ran to Lyle’s bed to get warm.
Bam! I hit his bedroom door in the dark, grasped the knob and tried to turn it. Locked? We never closed doors or locked them. “Lyle! I’m cold.”
Feet hit the floor, the door swung open. Bummer picked me up, carried me next to his chest, and held me while he peed. Kept his eyes shut, the bathroom light was bright.
When he shook his dick, I felt a drop of pee hit my leg. “Pee splash.”
“Make ya’ hairy, like me.” He kissed me, took me to Lyle’s bed and smooshed me against Lyle. It was warm between them.
1974
Bummer came next year. Manny and his family invited us over for their traditional food. They were part Ute. Venison, a big baked pumpkin, the table was full.
Chip and I got our bikes and went out to cut evergreen boughs and bring sage. We had to circle town, it was so busy. Temperature dropped, we biked back to Manny’s with red cheeks and bags full of clippings.
Sky darkened. All the adults were smiling, Bummer’s bottle of brandy was empty. Us kids fell asleep by the fire playing Uno while John Denver droned.
Lyle got me new tires for my bike. Manny gave me long underwear with a butt flap. Bummer gave me a clock radio. On the bottom of the radio, he wrote out the call sign and “6-10AM.”
***
After the holidays Lyle started smoking weed when I went to bed. He didn’t fall apart so often anymore.
Always felt helpless when Lyle fell apart, especially at night. Learned to wake him up, jump on the bed, yell at him. I got brave one night. Told him when he fell apart it made me think he didn’t love me, I’d been bad.
“That’s what you think? Oh, no, no. I know you’re scared, I am too.” He grabbed me and told me he loved me again and again.
From that time, if I saw him with blank eyes, I asked him if he loved me, if I’d done something wrong.
Sometimes it worked.
***
New school clothes happened on Friday in September—it became a tradition when I started school. Chip’s mom cleared out all his old clothes for me. I didn’t care where my clothes came from, I was more interested in biking and exploring.
Got lots of stuff, bell bottoms, a vest, shirts with long collars, just like adults wore. Still don’t like turtleneck sweaters.
As we finished trying on clothes, Chip’s mom took an armful to the living room to bag for me. When she passed the door, Chip, who had been trying on pants, pushed his briefs down. Wow. Wasn’t so surprised but intrigued by the dark color and larger size of his dick. His weenie made a small arc, a short curve to the left.
His curve lead to comparisons. So began my awareness of mysteries, augmented by the peeks I got at Lyle and Bummer in bed. Bummer said they were making love, but it looked kinda like wrestling.
Every time we got alone, Chip and I had to update. A pube, some length. Chip was fascinated by my foreskin. His small gray-red knob was bare.
***
Mornings, my clock radio woke me. National show with pop music, talk came on early, I stayed in bed listening.
Radio personality chuckled, “Got a personal request:”
Deep voice came on “Sookie, sookie, silver boy. Time to get up.”
Sookie? It had to be Bummer. Laughed and got up, hearing Floyd King, “Yeah, groove me….”
Woke early to hear if Bummer sent a message from San Francisco. Occasionally he said he loved me, said I was his beautiful boy. People probably thought I was his son.
Lyle wouldn’t let me call long distance to a radio station but we called Bummer late at night together.
We missed him.
***
Came a time Bummer didn’t visit. He moved in with us.
Lyle kept fixing cars, I was in school and Bummer soon began working with the contractors. He didn’t work for them, but sorta supervised. Got our old house renovated, preserved my history, he said. We landscaped, took out the spindly trees and added native plants. He let me keep my pile of favorite rocks, put them by the walk.
Best thing was getting insulated, it was hidden behind the walls, in the attic. Had to wonder why Lyle didn’t do that before, it stopped the cold winds.
I got a new-old bed made of fancy curved metal painted white and a wardrobe with a mirror on it. Special place for my Star Wars stuff. Lyle got me a big round rug with every color.
Hand lamps, picks, chisels, mallets, all the old mining tools they found were cleaned and hung in the big room. Cool.
***
Always felt on the outside because I didn’t have a mother who made cupcakes, kids in school noticed, whispered about it. I didn’t want any pity, I wanted friends.
Bummer had a better idea about treats for my classmates. He brought chocolate covered marshmallow cookies, wore his olive drab shirt with US Army over the pocket. Delivered three packages to my teacher as she stood staring, surprised.
Sudden popularity ensued after his first visit. Those Moon Pies got me picked first on the playground teams.
Best years of my life.
1983
Our lives changed when I turned eleven—my friends came over for races and games at my birthday party. Bummer and Lyle made chocolate cake with strawberry ice cream, Chip’s favorite.
Kinda sad seeing Chip, he would be starting high school that fall.
Liked the idea his balls and his curved dick were once in the place mine were, spaces that welcomed my small junk with the promise I’d be like him one day. Felt like Chip was close.
Didn’t know it but it was the last year to wear his hand-me-downs, Chip was heavier than me.
***
Biggest change came: Above our house was a flat area. Through the centuries, rocks washed down from the mountains. No trees or dirt, only rocks, boulders.
Surveyors came, men with heavy equipment. Soon a platform appeared over the boulders. Lights were wired around the edge. A bulldozer came, made a road from the platform to highway 82.
Men came and poured a foundation, erected a barn nearby. Heliport and hangar.
While I was in school a long, black limousine arrived. We now operated L&B Transportation Services.
The next week we started getting calls, reservations to bring people from Denver to Aspen and back.
Three or four hour drive by car into Denver. By copter, around thirty minutes.
Lyle usually flew the copter. Bummer got me a black jacket, small bow tie and hat to open the limo doors, prep the jump seats for riders. My job to keep the soda filled in the tiny bar.
With our tips we got an ice cream on the way home. I got to clean it out the back, find anything that fell out of clients’ pockets. Bummer usually took it, said it was trouble but let me keep the change.
1985
Our second winter flying to Denver, I opened the limo door for two fancy women while Bummer got their equipment into the trunk.
As I helped them in, “You’re a stunningly beautiful child, but you must know that already.” One lady said.
I smiled. Bummer told me not to get chatty, some of our clientele were stoned, kinda flaky people.
She poked her business card to Bummer through the sliding window, “We’re shooting at Buttermilk this weekend. Bring this gorgeous creature by, we’re always looking for cute kids.”
Lyle called the lady. She was a photographer and a talent scout, looking for child models for clothing catalogs.
Bummer took me to Buttermilk. I dressed in a bright ski outfit but I hated it, people were tugging on the clothes, poofing my hair and messing with my face the whole time. Just standing around holding skis and poles was boring. All the kids wanted to play, not stare at the camera.
Bummer said to be patient, if this panned out, I wouldn’t have to worry about college tuition.
April we shut the heliport down for a month, maintenance and repair. Lyle began a series of swaps, he wanted a copter that held six like the limo and had enough space for all their bags.
***
We planned a big vacation, my first. I was twelve, able to manage myself, Lyle said.
As soon as school finished, Bummer, Lyle and I flew to Denver, took a plane to DC.
The Wall opened. It listed the names of all the fallen in Vietnam. Lyle just sat looking, sniffling—got up and wandered around. Bummer had a list of the names of men he served with, he searched for them, made rubbings in a notebook, took photos.
Bummer said one day their name would be there.
Didn’t want to think about it.
***
Stayed in a fancy hotel in Maryland. Planned on visiting the Lincoln Memorial the next day, walk around. We didn’t. They got drunk, smoked that night and began crying, holding each other, talking about narrow escapes, napalm, agent orange, ambushes. I didn’t understand all of it.
Thought Lyle would fall apart again, kept an eye on him. Watched closely, Bummer squeezed him, held him hard, “It’s over.” Squeezed him against his hairy chest, rocked him. “Let it go. Never again, never again.”
They were still asleep when I woke up the next morning so I went swimming till almost noon. Took some cash from Lyle’s wallet and got a sandwich and a Spiderman comic.
That afternoon, Bummer took me to the concierge, “Is there a tour where he can ride unaccompanied—like a chaperoned tour for kids?” He flashed cash.
The lady called the tour driver and I left with a gang of Midwestern students taking photos from the top of a double-deck bus. The girls kept telling me I was cute, and trying to sit with me.
Went to stand beside the driver, a black man who told me about DC. “That’s where Funk was born, and the Mothership’s in the Smithsonian now....” No clue what he talked about but he was proud.
DC was hot and meltingly humid, so hot. I was glad for air conditioning in the hotel.
***
The guys were up and not in a good mood: Lyle seldom yelled and Bummer didn’t like to raise his voice: “I’ve heard it all before, so shut up. We’re leaving. Won’t lose you again.” Bummer’s voice was hard, loud.
He stopped when he saw me staring. Took Lyle by the arm, shoved him toward the closet. “Get dressed. Gento, get to the lobby with your bag. Now!” He gathered up his things, “We’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Rushed to a taxi, rushed to the airport, rushed onto the plane. Lyle had no expression on his face, fell asleep. Bummer looked snarly. In Denver, Bummer flew the copter home.
Immediately, I got on my bike and rode to the river. Tried to erase the sounds of their words, their looks. Maybe I was afraid.
When I came back, they were gone. I waited, turned the radio on wondering if Lyle had fallen apart forever. Felt so far away from them, from everyone, everything—was I falling apart?
Heard a car outside, Chip honked, “Where were you? Dad says to come stay with us.”
Grabbed a few things, got in the truck. Chip was silent. Manny waited on the porch for me.
Before I went in, Manny took me aside. “Things are going to be different when Lyle comes back.” Bummer took Lyle to the Aurora VA hospital. “Lyle came back from ‘Nam addicted. He’s been at the VA before.”
“When?”
“When he was discharged.” He paused, “I convinced my boss to hire him at the garage, then bought the garage to keep him on.”
“What happened?”
“You happened.”
“What?”
He described Lyle meeting a client: “Earth-mother, no bra, lived in the back of her van and traveled with the weather and concerts. Pretty, long-haired and young. She got Lyle’s attention.” Manny said.
“I encouraged him to ask her out. Coupla weeks and Sunny was pregnant. Lyle’s parents were ecstatic, asked them to move to the old house with them.
“Those days, our families camped, fished together. Highest of times, plenty of food, good music. Singing ‘Cajun Love Song’ around the campfire....”
“Sunny gave Lyle Alice, “Little Alice Blue Gown, they called her. Beautiful girl.” He looked to the sky and then:
“I remember the birthday party when Alice turned thirteen. She told us she was pregnant. About six months later, you were born. Right after that trouble started. Alice took up with a drifter. I’m sure he told her it was a one-time deal, and that the fuzz wouldn’t bust a girl. They stole my old pickup off the back lot. I think Alice and this jerk were scraping some bucks together to elope.
“Well, Alice took Sunny to school, came back home to take care of you. Alice skipped school, went to Kansas. She didn’t come back.” Manny looked away.
“Where did she go?”
“Kansas troopers tailed her from the supplier in Deerfield. Tried to box her in on the highway. Alice must have lost it, scared and hauling a bale of jane. Went off the road, rolled the truck and it went up in flames. Never found the guy got her to mule for him.
“Lyle’s family fell apart, Sunny left him. After three years, it was only you and Lyle left. My family helped where we could.” He stood and went inside, "Dinner's ready, c'mon."
Why hadn’t anyone told me this before? Something didn’t seem right about Manny’s story.
***
Lyle came home from the VA a month later, hugged me and swung me around for a long time smiling. “I missed my precious boy. You and Bummer are everything to me.” He kissed my forehead, my face and rubbed my back holding me tightly.
“Going out tonight, celebrate.” Bummer was smiling.
Smoked trout, all kinds of good food. While they ate, Bummer nudged Lyle’s foot. “Tell him.”
Lyle took a deep breath, “Things have to change….” Lyle showed me the back of his hand, covered with small scars, I thought they were from working in the garage. “Used to shoot drugs. When I felt like I was falling apart, I spaced out.” He looked away, “Came to need it everyday. When we went on vacation I remembered things....”
He glanced at Bummer. “Going to DC put me on the edge again. Bought some stuff, uh, some H off guy.... Shot up while you were downstairs.”
Looked at Bummer, “Do you shoot drugs too?”
“No. And no more drugs in the house.” He thought for a moment, “When Lyle fell apart, all his pieces didn’t come back together. We’re going to make some new pieces, better pieces, to replace them.”
Lyle changed the topic: “Tuesday nights, I’ll be in town to meet with some other guys. We help each other stay clean.”
“Can I go?”
“Secret adult meeting. Sorry.” He gave me a weak smile.
***
Lyle took medication everyday; Bummer made sure, counted the pills.
Awkward at first, we walked the river instead of “toke time.” Lyle smiled more, sang with the radio and we went out to eat every week to celebrate seven days clean.
Lyle relaxed more often, spoke to us about how he felt sometimes. Said he had to “let it go” often.
I hadn’t noticed the colors in my life had faded, now we had different colors and different music. When they kissed in the kitchen, they grabbed me, kissed my forehead, hugged me against them.
They asked me about my schoolwork, checked my homework. Bummer brought home a booklet to study for my drivers license. “Then, get your chauffeur’s license. I’m looking for another limo.”
“I’m only twelve.”
“You can do it if you try hard enough.” He winked. They laughed. I like joking and teasing.
Inside, part of me was sad. Missed the old times. A small, hard knot in my guts, said they wouldn’t ever be back. I called Chip.
“What’s going on?”
My mind went blank for a moment. “Every now and then, I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming’ round.”
“I’m growing up.” Then he told me he was leaving his senior year, “Up With People,” he’d tour the world singing with a big group.
1986
Thirteen’s an unlucky number. When I turned thirteen the worst happened, didn’t start that way though.
We had several May bookings from Denver. Bummer said Aspen needed year-round shuttle, “Money, money!” He laughed. We advertised scenic tours as well as flying the Denver shuttle.
Life was better with more money and time to spend with Lyle. He quit his job at the garage. Bummer and I kept the helicopter and limo shiny, clean. They got an accountant so we could go fishing after they picked me up from school.
Home was really comfortable, got a big stereo system and had plenty of snacks when friends came over. Sometimes other vets came, my friends from school brought their bikes. Bummer built a bike trail for us around the lower part of our property, hills and jumps.
Still, there were times I wanted the old days when things were easier, messier, not so fancy. Missed making fires for cold nights, cuddling on the couch, biking up the river with Chip.
It was also the year the lady called me to model again. School uniform catalogue. “Three day shoot in City of Industry, LA. You available?”
I didn’t want to go, but the pay was several thousand. Lyle said it would be good experience, we’d go surfing, then Disney. Bummer said I’d be the first of us to go to college.
They negotiated plane fare and motel room, meals.
***
Bummer had to stay, Lyle took me.
“Motel 5?” Lyle tried convincing the lady that the place didn’t look safe, she assured him it was okay.
On the map, the area looked kinda empty, mostly factories and warehouses.
***
Long flight into LAX.
Arrived to find trucks and trailers lined the streets, no one on the sidewalks.
Early the next morning we caught a cab to an old brick building on a littered, dusty street, mostly fenced lots with storage containers nearby. Not very glamorous. Went into an office area and found our way to the set.
About thirty kids, all ages and sizes with adults accompanying them. We were lined up in the back of the room.
Several people came out with clipboards and tape measures, sorted us by size and height. Lights came on, sets were readied and all the kids in my group were shuffled to a long hallway, given uniforms to put on.
Lyle waited with the other adults.
Dressed, we filed in front of the hairdresser and makeup crews. Back to the set.
Took several hours to get my group photographed. While we were waiting, one of the girls told me to watch out for people adjusting my clothing, “Watch their hands. They’ll grope your privates.”
“What do you do?”
“Slap their hand away and yell—ya’ gotta yell loud, ‘Hey mister, that’s my coochie. Hands off, perv!” She laughed, “Stops ‘em cold.”
Stunned.
***
Three more times we changed uniforms. There were plenty of experienced kids in my group, we didn’t get groped but plenty of looks while we changed.
Assumed Lyle was still on the set with the other adults. Last shoot I looked around—didn’t see him. Got dressed.
Waited on the set. Where was he?
I asked the lady at the front desk if she’d seen the man who brought me. She didn’t know anything. Without cash for a cab or bus, I was stuck. There were lots of Motel 5s, I didn’t remember which one.
Got panicky as the building emptied.
As the lady readied to leave, I asked to use the phone, called Bummer. He told me to get on a bus, explain my situation to the driver. If I got a cab I could charge the fare to the credit card that paid our hotel room. “I’ll call the LAPD.”
Stood outside for a while. There wasn’t any bus or cab, warehouses and businesses closed. Sun was setting. Decided to go to a busy street, look for a bus stop sign.
Holding my head up, I started walking when in the distance a yellow car—a cab coming toward me. It honked, I waved. “Hey, kid. You looking for someone?”
Ran toward it. The driver got out and opened the back door, “Looking for him?”
Lyle lay on the back seat, passed out. “Take us to the motel.”
“Which motel?”
Rummaged through Lyle’s pocket, found the room key. It had the address. Grabbed his wallet.
“Oughtta take him to detox, drop you at county services.” He grumbled.
Gave the cabbie a twenty, then a five. He helped me get Lyle on the bed.
Damn, he’d peed his pants. Looked again, there were a spots of blood on his jeans. Immediately called Bummer. “Should I call an ambulance?”
“Is he breathing?”
“Yeah.”
“Pull his pants down, see where the blood’s coming from.”
He’d shot up on his femoral artery, Bummer told me. The pale skin on Lyle’s groin was scarred, both sides had patches of small pink mounds and ridges, like a map of…. “Two small holes, on top of scars.”
“Stay with him. If he starts to vomit or stops breathing call an ambulance. I’m calling the cavalry.”
***
About ninety minutes later someone knocked, “Gento. Open up. I’m Bummer’s friend, Steve. He said you got a problem.”
Pushed the drapes aside. Steve looked okay, clean, like a working guy. Opened the door with the chain attached. “You know Bummer? What’s his real name?”
“Bumbough, uh, Ash Bumbough, best I recall. We served in Nam together.” I let him in. “Said a guy named Lyle got sick. Well, not sick, but shot up again. It’ll kill a man if he starts up again with the wrong crap.” Told me he worked with homeless vets.
Steve felt for a pulse, listened to Lyle’s chest, looked in his eyes and asked me what happened. Explained Lyle disappeared while I was being photographed. “I gotta go to work tomorrow.”
“Find that woman’s phone number, I’ll fix it. We’ve either got to get this guy to the hospital or home immediately. Pack it up, we’re outta this dump.” He got on the phone with Bummer.
Things I didn’t know could happen, did. Bummer wired money, Steve got Lyle to the airport, called for a wheelchair to get him to the plane. The three of us were on our way to Aspen that night.
Got a feeling Steve was a drill sergeant, he was really bossy, had a loud voice. He was polite to me, smiled and touched my hair, “It’s gonna be alright. You were brave, did good.”
Steve didn’t say anything to Lyle when he threw up on the plane. Told me he was ‘coming ‘round,’ wrapped him tightly in a blanket, told him to shut up and breathe.
***
Bummer met us at the airport, took Lyle back to the hospital. Steve rented a car and drove me home. Stayed with me till we heard from Bummer.
Everything happened so fast, I thought I might fall apart. I couldn’t. Felt like my guts were frozen solid.
***
Steve took me to school, got all my books and papers. Don’t know how he did it, but he got me out of school till September. Said he’d bring me in for my tests. “The kid needs to know what’s happening with his father.”
At home, I told him Lyle never called himself my father.
He stared for a moment, “Uncle? Grandfather?”
“I’m dependent. That’s what it says on my school registration.”
“His dependent.” Steve didn’t ask any more. We made dinner and got the flashlights out to check the helipad and hangar. When we came back, the phone was ringing. Bummer asked Steve to stay a few more days.
Grabbed the phone, “When are you coming home?” Started crying as Bummer gave me the shuffle, he didn’t tell me the truth.
“What’s wrong with Lyle? Tell me. I’m not a kid.”
Long wait for him to answer. “He has Kaposi sarcoma. I’ll bring him home as soon as he’s able to fly.”
“Kaposi sarcoma….” Gave the phone to Steve and went outside. Sounded serious though I didn’t know what it meant.
***
Steve pulled me back into the house, ordered me to get cleaned up and meet him in the kitchen. “Now. Go get showered, it’ll help.” He started cooking dinner, made me eat though I wasn’t hungry.
That night Steve came to my bedroom, explained HIV, told me they didn’t know a lot about it yet, but Kaposi sarcoma was clear evidence.
They already told us about HIV-AIDS in school. They didn’t explain how HIV-AIDS killed people.
“When Lyle comes home, he may be coming home to die.” He whispered.
Then I understood why Steve lay on the bed with me, he held me while I sobbed. Kept saying “We’re gonna get through this together. It’s gonna be alright.”
He cried too.
***
Steve stayed on to keep me, take reservations and drive the limo. Bummer flew back and forth but stayed mostly at the VA with Lyle. When he was home there were used condoms in the trash can in his bedroom.
I didn’t ask, didn’t care. My feet seldom touched earth without Lyle around.
All day Steve was on the phone, tracking down someone who could chauffeur. Called all over the US, Found a guy in Grand Junction, a disabled vet who brought his own fifth wheel. Guy named Finley Tucker.
Tucker set up his short trailer house beside ours. Lanky, long-haired, walked with a limp, always saying dumb stuff. I think he was not used to being around people but he was glad to be living in the country and working.
Played a fancy guitar in his little trailer. Steve said not to disturb him, “He has moody memories.”
Tucker agreed to wear his dreads under his chauffeur cap when he drove clients. Took two weeks for Bummer and Steve to convince him to wear the slacks and jacket, shirt and tie. I think he wanted a raise but settled for us washing the slacks and shirt for him along with Sunday dinners.
Steve respected Tucker, “Best damn driver we had at Da Nang. Hauled munitions.”
***
My bedroom was emptied and filled with a hospital bed and all Lyle’s equipment. An ambulance brought him home. A carer would visit, help Lyle. Our home didn’t feel like home any longer.
When he was in bed, I lay beside him, kissed his face, “Don’t go away again.”
“One more trip, bright eyes.” He whispered, “Shade my face. The sun’s too much.” Leaned close and looked into the light brown eyes that shone with tears. “I love you.”
He fell asleep, I closed the curtain. Lyle was falling apart in a different way, and everything inside me began crumbling.
***
Lyle became thinner while I was finishing my sophomore year. Men from the secret meeting visited, started holding their meetings in the bedroom. Not always sad, I heard laughing from outside the door. Their way to love Lyle.
Bummer told me to treat Lyle gently, try to be positive and don’t argue, “Make no regrets.”
April 1987
Came in from school and always went to talk to Lyle. On a gray day before a storm came, he filled in the blanks of my life:
He asked me about what I was going to do after graduation.
“Chip’s at Boulder, Colorado Law School. I might go to UC, they have an Earth Science program. We’d be near each other.”
Lyle was quiet, then, “Always treat him like your brother.”
“I don’t know if he’ll come back to live here.”
“Treat him like your brother.”
Silence.
“I know, we’re like brothers.”
“He’s your step-brother.”
Not wanting hard words, I just shook my head
“He is. Nothing I could do about the situation but keep you close.” Dreaminess came through his words, reliving something long ago. “You were such a beautiful boy, so loving… and he is your step-brother.”
Didn’t answer him.
Incoming MK-77: “Manny’s your father.”
Froze with that statement, remembered what Manny told me about my young mother. “What? Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I’d lose my job, probably lose you. Wasn’t going to let you go.” He stroked my face, “Turn around, show me those bright eyes. “I was angry and I had a gun—he needed to pay, Alice was thirteen when he.... Don’t know why I didn’t do it, just couldn’t make another war.
“Couldn’t kill Manny, it wouldn’t bring Alice or Sunny back. Couldn’t bring myself to leave his children fatherless, and their mother a widow—saw too much of that. And I’d ruined my reputation, no one would believe an old junkie.
“You’d be adopted by strangers if I put the gun to my head. So I acted like I didn’t know anything, had to keep you.” He stopped, “I did my best.”
“Did you tell Bummer?”
“Yeah, and he gave me courage to...” He turned my face to him:
“No way to file charges back then so we pressed Manny, called it ‘back child support.’ Blackmailed him for the funds, all the renovations, most of the business. Manny dealt out of his garage all those years, he was loaded and needed to pay.”
“Manny’s my father? He made my mother pregnant?”
“Yes. I suspect he’s your grandfather—that’s how Sunny paid for the work on her van.” He turned my face to him again, “I’m not the man to make children—that’s why Sunny left.”
***
Later, I dug through all Lyle’s papers. Alice’ birth certificate had a place for “father.” Someone penciled in the word “Universe.”
The space was blank on my birth certificate.
1988
We buried Lyle beside the river near his family. Crowd turned out, the guys from the secret meetings, lots of people whose cars he’d fixed. Vets, friends, all faces I knew from town.
Cars lined the highway, people brought flowers, plants in buckets with trowels to plant them nearby. Army sent out crew for a twenty-one gun salute. Manny and his family and I shook hands with everyone as they passed along the drive. Smelled weed, some folks needed to watch from over the line, I figured. Aroma was strong.
Walked up the rise together. Manny had the nerve to tell anyone who’d listen how he helped raise me. Almost boasting till Bummer shot him a hard look and clenched his fist.
Moved beside Manny and whispered, “Grandpa-daddy, you’re a stinking liar, murderer and a pervert.”
“Yeah? Heard you’re making money with your looks. Good genes.” Smiled with one corner of his mouth, winked, reached to touch my cheek. “Pretty boy.”
I backed away and turned, saw Chip. He’d heard us, his face twitching, eyes wide, mouth agape. He put it all together.
***
Though it had taken long, quiet months of I-love-yous, still hard to believe. These were the last moments with Lyle’s physical body.
Bummer lead the crowd up the trail. Can’t remember what he said, something about bonds of love are all we have. Others said a few words all while the honor guard stood at attention.
The bugle cried its mournful tune, flag folded and handed it to me as the casket lowered.
Shots rang out, cracked through the valley like lightening again and again. Silenced the bird songs and river’s rushing. Bugle cried it’s melancholy tune. The crowd stood still, silent as dirt hit casket.
As the honor guard marched away, they passed Tucker with a guitar. From the back of the crowd, he began, “Now I've been happy lately, thinking about the good things to come….”
Peace Train? Lyle sang it for me when I was a kid.
“Peace train sounding louder… come take me home again….”
The crowd planted their flowers, singing, smoothing the dirt, bringing rocks from the river. They clapped, sang and beat on their buckets as Tucker kept playing and singing about hope again and again. Behind his jerky gait, he led us to the house.
Mostly men at the reception. Secret meeting guys told me how proud Lyle was to raise me, how much he loved me.
Consolation begins the process of eroding the pain of loss but it wasn’t working for me. Anger blocked it.
***
Steve left before I turned fifteen. Bummer and Tucker ran the business and I had to decide what to do with my life.
Went to a two-month summer ecology camp. Opened my eyes. Not about the ecology, I knew most of that, but about guys. Hard to make a friend in the dorms, they talked about girls all the time. My dick was always hard, I hated it. Thought about sex way too often.
Fantasized about my counselor in my arms, in my bed, kissing me like Bummer and Lyle kissed. Made a point to avoid the counselor, acted interested in geology. When I thought about anything intimate the image of Lyle slowly dying always came to mind.
HIV tests took several days to get results, risky game. Bummer kept his results on the refrigerator door; had about twenty so far. Relief to me.
Lived in Lyle’s hesitancy, his silent watchfulness, his veiled anger. Couldn’t take another loss, afraid I’d start falling apart.
***
Arrived home from camp to a different life.
For some reason, Bummer was smug. Tucker all of a sudden had empty memory cells though I asked about what they did while I was gone.
Specifically, I asked why Manny’s garage was replaced with a franchise transmission shop. They didn’t know anything.
School started. Hallway gossip held Manny’s parents divorced, his daughter dropped out. Then, I found out about the investigation.
Manny’s garage was raided, drugs and cash were found. Before he went to court, they found his Caddy on the highway to Deerfield. It burned completely with Manny still at the wheel.
Too much coincidence. “Bummer, did you hear what happened to Manny?”
“Too bad about that. Real shame.” He wasn’t going to say any more, and he didn’t look upset about it either.
Silver
Epilogue
Steve came out and didn’t bring a new crossover bike, he kept it in LA for me, enticing me to come to the community college out there for two years. Using Lyle’s veterans benefits, I did. Lived in Encino and biked the trails in the reserve and the Basin Rec Center.
The bike was my gift in exchange for a promise to study computers, “It’s all going to electronic, wave of the future.”
Grew while I was in California. On my own most days, enjoyed campus life, met all kinds of people. Started in the gym, building my upper body, readying for basic training.
Bummer, Steve and Tucker liked my idea. The Colorado National Guard would train me to fly the copter.
***
Bummer drove me to enlist near Fort Collins. He brought my paperwork in a folder with photos of me sitting in the seat of the first copter we bought, then me in my chauffeur’s uniform. Blushed while Bummer beamed with pride.
Took the file from him. Inside was the annual financial report from L&B Transportation Services. Total value, over a million dollars. Unimpressed by the numbers as I recalled the work we’d put into it.
National guard officers said I’d be able to train abroad, across the US and work natural disasters. They suggested I think about becoming an instructor eventually.
Didn’t consider teaching. Other plans were in the works—Bummer and Tucker wanted to open a fishing camp on the river. I wanted to fly, fish and if I was lucky find a boyfriend.
On the way into Denver, Lyle told me that he was my guardian until I was twenty-one, after that we were partners in L&B, “And if anyone asks, tell them your my son.”
“Lie?” I chuckled.
“When I told my dad I was queer, he cried. Not because I’m homosexual, but because I’d never know what it felt like to raise a kid, watch a father’s love, all his wisdom carried on. Dad loved me, loved me like the rock of ages....” Sniffled with the memory. “Being queer and being a family man aren’t incompatible. I'm like Lyle, he had to keep you and I promise not to let you go.”
After a few miles, “First time I saw you, I knew it. I could be a father to you and I tried my best. Say you’re my son every now and then. Let me shine for a few moments.”
***
Stopped for drinks at a fast food place, drove up to the window.
Usual spiel, familiar voice. I looked again. Chip. “Hey. I thought you were in law school.”
“Gento? You look great. What’s going on?”
“Enlisted in the Guard.” Why was he working fast food? “You?”
“Had to put off my degree, helping my sister with my niece. Remember she dropped out of school?” He grinned and grabbed cups, filled them with ice. “Gotta babysit during the day.”
Turned to me, “Your step-niece. Even looks like you.”
All the past I knew of myself flashed in front of me.
As Chip put the lids on the drinks, all Lyle’s love rushed back along with an image of a burning van. Pain of anger, pressured secrets, holding it inside those years—him falling apart again and again.
Thought of the anguish, uncertainty and lies I carried, Manny’s lies. His denigrating, mocking comments at Lyle’s funeral.
***
“Zat Chip?” Bummer handed me a business card. “Tell him to call.”
Took the card, dropped it on the floorboard. No, no more of fake brother act.
Argento Bumbough pulsed from my chest to my mind.
Chip handed me the drinks, I paid. He raised his eyebrows, grinned, “Give me a call here. Just got a load of gold in last night and sis is always up for….”
Looked ahead, drove away.
End
For a list of references to popular culture used in this story, email: [email protected]