The building was red brick institutional. Long shadows darkened its front. The doors hissed open as Jerry crossed the threshold. He was directed to a room. He knocked on the door and heard a feeble, “Come in.”
Andy, the child Peter and Jerry had spoken about at the party, was seated next to the window, dressed as if going to school, upright, frail, alone.
With forced cheerfulness, Jerry warbled, “Hello!”
Andy smiled wanly.
“You weren’t at my goodbye party.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say, I was tied up.”
“How are you?” Jerry asked taking his forced enthusiasm down a notch.
“Everybody told you how crazy I am?”
“No. Peter shared that you tried to end your life.”
“Yeah, well.”
Jerry groped for something to say. “Tough times?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My parents hate me.”
“I’m sure they don’t. “
“I’ve really blown it this time.”
“They’re lucky to have you.”
“I thought I’d just make things easier for them. And I even messed that up. They’re making me take pills. It’s hard to think straight.”
Silence shoved itself into the room.
“So what do you like?”asked Jerry, grasping for something to say.
“Hmmm.”
Just when Jerry figured Andy had checked out, he said softly, “I like grace notes.”
“Come again?” Jerry couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“Those little notes. I don’t know why I thought of that just now. Funny, you ask me what I like, and that’s the only thing that comes up.”
“I had a dear friend who loved grace notes.” Jerry flashed back to that night on the roof. “You play the piano?”
“Yeah, alot, well, used to.”
“Me too.”
More silence.
Slowly, like the miracle of a seance, Andy raised his arms.
Jerry leaned in and hugged him but not too tight. His frame felt as fragile as a bird’s.
***
“I never cry,” said Jerry to his therapist during his final Monday session. “I feel like I’m becoming a little unglued. I’m crying all the time. It’s a little scary. I hope those kids didn’t think I’m crazy.”
“Jerry, you mentioned everyone else was crying too, right?”
“Right.”
“So, no, no one thought you were crazy.”
“Right.”
“They love you, Jerry.”
“Hmmm…”
Chapter 13
The night before commencement Jerry bolted awake. 3:30 am. A dream lingered. As he scribbled the dream down, he felt like he was stealing information he wasn’t supposed to have.
I’m sleeping in my childhood bedroom. Dad comes in and slips under the covers. He has an exposed erection. He masturbates until he ejaculates. I’m furious. I kick him off the bed. I go into the bathroom and grab a towel. In the bathroom, on the blue tile floor is a giant egg yolk with clear albumen around it. It’s like those peach halves that come out of a jar. I return to the bedroom to wipe things up. Dad is on the floor cross legged. He looks up at me like a confused child. He’s crazy.
What the fuck?