Forth into Light (The Peter & Charlie Trilogy) (16 page)

He was hurrying again, almost running, and he was panting when he entered the garden gate. He must catch Jeff before he started his evening ramble. The house steadied him. It was a refuge. It offered him its handsome assurance that his life was good. He paused, letting his eyes absorb the beauty of the courtyard, remembering the way it was when they had bought it, feeling a pride of achievement, as well as responding to the esthetic satisfaction offered by the big gnarled central olive tree and the smaller citrus trees beyond, which created a false perspective and a sense of great depth. The covered balcony they had added for additional access to the bathroom provided an asymetrical and curiously romantic note to what had been rather stark cubes. The great burst of bougainvillae filled the other wall with color. He moved slowly into the lush green shade he had built, almost as palpable as the masonry that enclosed it. His air. It smoothed from his mind the uglier aspects of the experience he had just undergone and insulated him against it. No police state entered here. He could offer Jeff the guidance and understanding he needed. He felt a sudden deep longing for Sarah. The house was so completely and essentially a joint creation, as fully shared as an act of love; she was central to his satisfaction in it. As if in answer to his thought, she appeared in the door.

“Hi, there,” she greeted him. “You’re back. Any news?” She gave him a smile radiant with warmth and welcome as she joined him. He felt it as a shock to his whole system, as startling and beneficent as a plunge into icy water on this sweltering day. His experience with the police made him feel unworthy of it and he received it with humility and gratitude.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. No money yet. The police seem to think they’ll get it back.”

“Somebody
must’ve
taken it. It couldn’t just disappear. Who could it be?”

Her eyes were full of sympathy. He could feel the free flow of it toward him, unlike this morning when she had been so quick to disociate herself from him. He realized that he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about the money since then. He took her hand and squeezed it. “The police seem to suspect Costa.”

“Our Costa? Oh, no, he wouldn’t.”

“Well, there’s no point guessing. We’ll just have to wait and see what they find out. Is Jeff here?”

“Yes, he’s in his room.”

“I want a word with him. It looks as if his chum Dimitri might be in for some trouble. Ready for a drink?”

“I can wait. What about Dimitri?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. I’ll be right back. We can have a drink together before we go down to collect Mike.” He lifted his hand and touched her breast. “You look as if you’d had a good rest. You look wonderful.”

She flushed with pleasure. “I’ve been milling about in the kitchen. Dinner’s pretty well organized.”

He looked into her eyes and smiled. Something he saw in them charged him with irrational confidence. He gave her a little pat and reluctantly turned from her. He entered the house and climbed the stairs and quickly changed his clothes for the evening. He went along to Jeff’s room and knocked on the closed door.

“Yeah,” was the grudging reply from within.

George opened the door and looked in. Jeff was at his desk, bent over a forbidding tome of the sort he was partial to. “I’d like to speak to you for a minute,” George said, trying to sound friendly rather than parental.

Jeff turned a dark guarded young face to him, the large eyes so strikingly like Sarah’s that he felt a pang of love for both of them. “What’s up?” Jeff demanded.

“I’ll tell you. Come on upstairs to the study. It might be cooler up there.”

He waited as Jeff slouched and shuffled out of his chair and then preceded him up the difficult stairs. He closed the door behind Jeff and went to the couch where he had slept the night before and seated himself. Jeff ambled to a chair and arranged himself in it—legs flung about, the base of his spine on the edge of the seat, head resting on the back. His eyes roamed restlessly, avoiding his father’s.

George curbed an impulse to reprimand him. This was the current affectation of the young. They thought it old-fashioned to sit up straight. They didn’t believe in moving their lips when they spoke. They cultivated a bored and insolent look. It would pass. There was a more important issue at stake. “We’ve always been able to talk to each other, Jeff.” He heard the wheedling camaraderie in his voice and was embarrassed for himself.

“Yeah, sure.” Jeff had the good grace not to sound completely indifferent.

“Well, let’s get right to the point. It looks as if your friend Dimitri is about to have some serious trouble with the police. I’ve just heard about it. For your own sake, you’d better steer clear of him. You may feel it your duty as a friend to warn him, but otherwise I don’t want you to see him again.” As he spoke, George saw the boy’s arms and legs begin to twitch and at his last words, Jeff gathered himself together convulsively and hugged himself with his arms. His eyes blazed up with startled life.

“Not see him again? What’s he supposed to’ve done?”

“It’s serious. Peddling drugs. Costa has accused you of being in on it with him. I don’t take that seriously, of course, but anybody who sees a lot of him is automatically suspect to the police.”

“How can I be? I haven’t done anything.” The note of querulousness in Jeff’s voice reminded George how close the boy was to being still a child, his child, and he felt a wrench of tenderness for him. He leaned forward and gave the boy’s leg a pat.

“I’m sure you haven’t, but appearances count. Costa says you gave Dimitri a lot of money this morning.”

Jeff forced laughter and pulled his legs up under him. He made a swipe at his hair. “Where would I get money? He came sidling by the way he does when I was helping Dimitri with his accounts. Does holding money mean that I’m giving it to him?”

“I see.” So Costa hadn’t been lying; he had seen Jeff and Dimitri handling money together. “If you’re on those terms with him, knowing about his money and all that, it’s even more serious than I thought. You make yourself an accessory to anything he’s doing.”

Jeff’s dark eyes widened and wavered into contact with George’s and then pulled quickly away. “Adding up his accounts for him isn’t a crime. Why are you so interested in the police all of a sudden, anyway?”

“I’m interested in the police because I’ve got to get my money back. Who do you suggest I go to?” George resented being made to feel apologetic. He added curtly, “As a matter of fact, they’re holding Costa for questioning now.”

Jeff’s eyes stared into George’s with wild incredulous reproach. “But how could you? It’s against everything you believe in.” Jeff sprang forward in the chair and gripped the seat with his hands. “How could you drag an innocent man into it? The money’s obviously in the house somewhere. You don’t know what you’re doing half the time.”

George’s mouth dropped open with astonishment and snapped shut again with anger. “Just what is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“It’s true, isn’t it? I live here too, remember? I see what goes on. You’re a drunk. Everybody knows you’re a drunk. You and Mom both. You came staggering home last night. You probably shoved the money in a drawer somewhere and forgot it. That’s the way you are these days. Did you tell the police how drunk you were? Did you tell them you can’t remember half the things you do?”

George waited for the first impact of the words to pass. Even if they were justified, he was stunned that his son could say them. Instinct told him that there was more involved than Costa and his going to the police. An angry reprimand died on his lips. He had to win the boy’s confidence, not alienate him further. “Jeff,” he said quietly, “you’re surely old enough to understand that drinking too much sometimes and being a drunk are two different matters. You’ve never spoken to me like this. There must be something very serious on your mind. Speak up. We’re here to help, you know, and stand by you.”

Jeff subsided back into the chair and pushed at the hair on his forehead. “I can’t stand hypocrisy,” he growled in his deepest tones. “How do you expect me to react to a big paternal scene? What do you know or care about my feelings? You’re too busy fighting with Mom and getting drunk.”

George thought of his parents. No conceivable circumstances could have provoked him to speak to his father in this way. It had always been “yes, sir” and “no, sir,” and the seething rebellion underneath, so that when he had finally freed himself, there had been nothing left, no basis for any sort of relationship. Jeff would at least know who his parents were. He almost envied him being involved in some way with a drug peddler. It sounded so dangerous and grown up. At that age, George had been thinking about school teams and debutante balls. At least, he supposed that was what he had been thinking about. He couldn’t remember.

“If you’d just calm down a bit,” he said persuasively, “you’d discover that I do care. Very much.”

“In a pretty peculiar way. You pay no attention to anything I’m doing and then all of a sudden you lay down the law and tell me I can’t see one of the few people I like here. Who am I supposed to see, for God’s sakes?”

George admitted the point. There was no organized social life for young people here. There was no intermingling of the sexes. Jeff had long since passed beyond the possibility of finding intellectual satisfaction with his immediate contemporaries. The local boys, those who didn’t go to work long before school was over, had simple interests that probably included some casual sexual play until they were ready for their virgin brides. Not a stimulating scene. He couldn’t blame Jeff for being drawn to the larger world of the tourist bar. “You know I’m not much for laying down the law,” he said. “I hardly know Dimitri. It’s generally understood that he likes boys, but I’m sure you know enough about that sort of thing to handle it as it suits you. You’re too old for me to choose your friends for you. Even if he were the devil himself, I wouldn’t interfere unless I had some good reason. All I can offer you from here on is advice if you care to ask for it, and understanding. I’m pretty confident I have more of that than most people. Let’s stick to this drug business. What do you know about it?”

“Drug business? A lot of people here smoke marijuana, if that’s what you mean. You can get it easily enough.”

“So I’m learning. I hadn’t really been aware of it, except for Sid. Have you ever used it?”

“Once. It made me sick. Are we going to have an inquisition now?”

“I just want to know how the land lies. You knew that Dimitri supplies it?”

“There’s no secret about that. Everybody gets it from him.”

“You say Costa didn’t take my money. He keeps trying to make a connection between it and you and Dimitri and the dope. What do you suppose he’s driving at?”

Jeff threw his head back and opened his mouth. His big Adam’s apple worked as if he were trying to get air. “I can’t stand this,” he burst out. “None of it would’ve happened if you’d been sober. Do you think I stole your money? Go on. Say it. Accuse me. Say the truth, for once.” He jerked about in his chair, his coltish legs kicking out disjointedly.

“Take it easy, for God’s sake. I’m not accusing you of anything.” He had offered understanding, but he couldn’t understand Jeff’s behavior now. Maybe he and Dimitri actually were in business together. Or perhaps he had uncovered a serious love affair. “Listen. I just wanted to warn you that your friend is in danger. I know boys your age are sometimes under terrific pressures. I know you’re not a thief, but anybody might steal if they’re in a bad enough jam. I wouldn’t condone it, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. I’m proud of you, dammit. There’s nothing bad in you. That’s why I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“What’s bad about seeing a friend?” Jeff attempted a defiant note, but his voice caught on tears. “That’s all I’m thinking about. He’s expecting me this evening. We’re—he’s—I want to be his friend.”

“And I want to respect your friendships. The trouble is, I’m responsible for you for three more years. I can’t have you running risks with the law. It involves me. You mustn’t have anything more to do with Dimitri until we see how all this turns out. If you want, I’ll go explain it to him with you. If he values your friendship, he’ll understand. Now. Have we got that straight?”

Jeff began to tremble all over. “It’s all so awful,” he burst out and his words tumbled out chaotically. “I find somebody who likes to have me around and—he’s not perfect but I like being with him. If you knew anything about what’s going on around here—why don’t you leave me alone? What about Mom? Don’t you have some responsibility for her? Maybe you’d like to know where she was this afternoon. She was up at Pavlo’s house. I saw her when I——”

George was on his feet, towering over him. He swung his hand hard across Jeff’s face. The boy made little whimpering sounds in his throat. He swung again and struck so hard that he almost toppled Jeff out of the chair.

Jeff was doubled over, his arms over his head. “No. Don’t. I didn’t—I don’t know what I was saying,” he cried. He was shaken by racking sobs.

George didn’t hear them. He didn’t know how he had got to his feet. He was gripped by a rage of despair, trembling as violently as his son. He reached down and seized Jeff’s arms and grappled him up out of the chair. Jeff resisted feebly. George caught him as he almost fell and thrust his arms around him and pulled him close against his chest. He had nothing more to offer him, nothing more to offer anybody out of the empty ruin within him. Perfectly empty. Perfectly ruined. The comfort he derived from stilling Jeff’s sobs was irrelevant. He pressed his face into the boy’s hair and kissed the side of his head.

“Get out,” he said when he could speak. “Go to your room. I didn’t want to hurt you.” He half-supported Jeff as he stumbled to the door. George didn’t see him go. He was having trouble with his vision. He found his way back to the couch and sat on the edge of it, holding the hand that was still numb from striking his son.

Of course it was impossible. Jeff was an hysterical kid. He knew it was impossible. He had proof. For the moment he couldn’t think what it was. Slowly it came to him. He had seen Pavlo on the rocks. He and Mike had left for their swim well before four. She had been here then. Pavlo had been on the rocks when they arrived. No. He had seen Pavlo arrive. When? Just before he had left Mike to go to the police. He rubbed his hand and tried to remember having seen him earlier. It was no use. There had been time.