Raising Jake Part 38

"We didn't go out there to steal cobblestones, Doris. It was just a little task that came up in the midst of our family reunion."

"Ohhh, Sammy."

"Take it easy, Mom."

Doris turns back to Jake. "Well, now you know your grandfather. But you cannot tell me that you actually like like this man." this man."

"Danny? He's great. He's a p.i.s.ser. And he likes you, you, Mom. He actually proposed a toast to you." Mom. He actually proposed a toast to you."

Doris doesn't seem to be getting enough air. She lets her head fall, pushes her hair back. "Danny Sullivan! Of all people!" people!"

"I heard about what he did to my name card in the nursery. Pretty funny."

"Oh, you think that was funny? funny? Obliterating my name? Contaminating a germ-free zone by barging into the nursery like an absolute Obliterating my name? Contaminating a germ-free zone by barging into the nursery like an absolute lunatic?" lunatic?"

"He's a pa.s.sionate guy, Mom."

Doris lifts her head, rolls her eyes heavenward. "All right, then, Jacob, tell me. I might as well know everything. Tell me all about these...cobblestones."

"Danny found a bunch of cobblestones at low tide, and we helped him carry them to his car. Some dopey Parks Department cop tried to stop him, so Danny flattened him with one punch, and then Dad talked the guy out of arresting him. Aw, Mom, it was amazing. amazing. Talk about teamwork! You should have been there." Talk about teamwork! You should have been there."

The words. .h.i.t Doris like a barrage of bullets. I don't know how she is still standing, but she is. "You're telling me that your lunatic grandfather actually struck a policeman."

"Well, not really a policeman. Some jerk in a uniform who works for the Parks Department."

"Jacob, listen to me carefully, now. I don't want you going near that grandfather of yours, ever again."

"I'm going out to Flus.h.i.+ng next Sat.u.r.day to help him put down a cobblestone path."

"No, you are not."

"Mom. I'm going. That's all there is to it."

Doris thinks this is going to be the big issue of the day. She can't even hear the night train coming down the tracks. She suddenly realizes she's still holding her suitcase, and sets it on the floor. I remain squatting, stroking Jasper.

Doris says to me, "Leave that cat alone and tell me why you're here."

The time has come. I give Jasper one last pat on the head before pus.h.i.+ng at my knee to get to my feet. While I'm doing this, Doris foot-pushes her suitcase off to the side, where it comes to rest against Jake's guitar case. Before I can speak, Doris beats me to it.

"What's this?"

"Dad bought me a guitar."

"A guitar?" Doris shakes her head. "That's a purchase you may regret, Sammy. You don't want to know what Jacob does when he grows tired of a musical instrument."

"I know about the cello, Doris. He's promised me he won't incinerate the guitar."

She's startled that I know about the cello. She's about to say something else, but then she notices Jake's big blue bag. "What is this?" this?"

The time has come at last. And before I can speak, Jake beats me to it. "That's my stuff from school."

"Stuff?"

"From my locker."

Her face darkens. "Jacob?"

"I got kicked out of school, Mom."

She puts a hand over her mouth, as if to block a scream. She's actually trembling, and it looks as if she's struggling to keep from attacking him.

"I got fired from my job," I say, if only to distract her rage from Jake. Her other hand goes up to her mouth, and her eyes are wide-open above the hands, the eyes of the girl in the horror movie who sees the monster coming coming toward her and can't do a thing about it.

Doris staggers backward until the backs of her legs b.u.mp the sofa cus.h.i.+ons, and then my ex-wife collapses on the couch, landing on her a.s.s in the middle of it, arms and legs spread like a sky diver. But she has no parachute. Instead, the cape billows behind her head, slowly settling as it loses air. Doris lets out a scream that comes all the way from her ankles and sends Jasper fleeing in what could be the final sprint of his life.

Jake runs to get his mother a gla.s.s of water. She's still screaming when he brings it to her, knocking the gla.s.s from his hand and then leaping from the couch to smack my face.

I see stars as I hit the floor, and I'm vaguely aware that Jake is engaged in a physical struggle with Doris. I look up and see that he's trying to embrace her, while she pushes at his chest.

"Mom, please!" please!" he says, but Doris wails away, as if she's just been told that her only son has just died in a car crash. And maybe that would have been easier for Doris to take. There's no disgrace in a car crash. he says, but Doris wails away, as if she's just been told that her only son has just died in a car crash. And maybe that would have been easier for Doris to take. There's no disgrace in a car crash.

It feels like hours but it's only minutes before Jake calms her down and gets her to sit back down on the couch. All the while Doris is making whimpering noises, sounds of mourning for her son's lost future. I get up off the floor and find some paper towels to mop up the water and pick up the pieces of broken gla.s.s. Doris is quaking, literally quaking, as if the temperature has just plummeted fifty degrees, but actually the room is quite warm. Jake takes her hands in his and squeezes them.

"Mom. Everything's going to be all right."

She waits for a gust of s.h.i.+vering to go through her before asking, "Why did this happen?"

Jake takes his essay from his back pocket and hands it to her.

"Read this, Mom."

She adjusts her bifocals before settling in to read it. She just keeps staring at the pages, long after she's finished. She's had time to read it three or four times before finally saying, "How ridiculous. Didn't they realize you were being ironic?"

"No, I wasn't. I meant every word. They wanted an apology, and I refused."

Doris neatly folds the pages and hands them back to Jake. "I'll straighten this whole thing out tomorrow."

"Mom. There's nothing to straighten out. Even if they let me back in, I wouldn't go."

"Jacob."

"Mother..."

They glare at each other, neither surrendering an inch, and I suddenly remember the way they used to clash when I lived with them. He was barely old enough to walk when he began standing his ground against his mother, refusing to eat cauliflower, refusing to go to bed, and even in the midst of this crisis I have to marvel over the power of the stubbornness gene.

These two are fully capable of an all-day standoff, and to break it I say to Doris, "Don't you want to know why I got fired?"

She doesn't answer, but she does look at me, which is encouraging.

"The headmaster called me up and said it was an emergency. Obviously, he tried to reach you first, and when he couldn't he moved on to the secondary parent. My boss wouldn't give me an hour off, so he fired me because I went to the school without his permission."

Jake is stunned. "Holy s.h.i.+t, Dad, it was my my fault you got fired!" fault you got fired!"

"Don't worry about it, Jake. Best thing that could have happened to me."

"Enough," Doris says. "We've got a slightly bigger problem than your dubious journalistic career here." She points at me. It is literally the finger of blame. "You could have taken care of this, but you deliberately fouled it up so you could stop paying for school."

"Not true. I've been writing those checks for years. Why would I wait to bungle it up in his senior year?"

"Because you're spiteful."

"Mom. Dad didn't do anything wrong."

"Ohhh G.o.d, G.o.d, why is this happening?" why is this happening?"

"For an agnostic, Doris, you're talking to G.o.d an awful lot."

She gives me a laser look through eyes narrowed to slits. "You've had a h.e.l.l of a weekend, haven't you?"

"Yeah, Doris, a lot has happened. Speaking for myself, and without going into detail, all I can really tell you is that I hate myself a lot less today than I did on Friday."

"Ohh, how wonderful wonderful for you. Your son's life is in tatters, but the main thing is, you feel better about yourself." for you. Your son's life is in tatters, but the main thing is, you feel better about yourself."

"Thanks to Jake," I add.

"I feel better about myself, too, Mom," Jake says. "This was a really good weekend."

She ignores him, keeping that laser look trained on me. "f.u.c.k you," she says. "f.u.c.k you and whatever twisted impulse it was that made you want to turn our son into a high school dropout."

"I never had any such impulse. Come on, Doris, do you know me at all? all?"

"I don't believe I do. And you don't know me, either, and so what? That's all ancient history! The main thing is that our son is a high school dropout! high school dropout!"

"Dad dropped out of high school, and he's done all right."

I roll my eyes, bring them back down in time to see that Doris's mouth has dropped open.

"You weren't supposed to tell her, Jake."

"Is this true?" true?"

"Yes, Doris, it's true. Everything you're hearing today is true, true, true."

"You told me you went to City College!"

"Well, honey, it was the eighties. I said a lot of things when I was trying to score."

"Ohhhhh my G.o.d!"

"You keep summoning G.o.d, Doris, and the big guy might just show up."

She spreads her arms, hands stretched toward the heavens. "What else?" she asks the ceiling. "What else else has happened?" has happened?"

"Well, on the bright side, Peter Plymouth gave me a seven-thousand-dollar refund."

"And you gladly took it."

"I'll split it with you, Doris."

"Hang on to it. You'll be writing checks for Jacob's new school."

"No, he won't," Jake says. "I am not enrolling anywhere else. I have had it with school."

The words seem to linger in the air, like skywriting. Doris can only stare at Jake, who stares right back at her.

"I've got a plan, Mom," he continues. "I haven't even told Dad yet because I wanted to tell you both about it at the same time."

Doris forces a cruel laugh. "A plan, eh? I can't wait to hear it, Jacob. Do you intend to take some kind of menial job with your glorious eleventh grade education?"

"No, Mom, I don't."

"Are you going to just hang around the house? Sleep until noon every day? That That I would not tolerate." I would not tolerate."

"I wouldn't want to do that."

"Well what, what, then?" then?"

Jake looks at his mother, then at me. There should be a drumroll for what he's about to say, whatever it is, but it's out so fast that it's almost an anticlimax.

"I'm moving to Paris."

Doris makes a snorting sound of disbelief, a sound I can't help echoing with a similar sound of my own. This This is his big plan, the plan he's refused to reveal for the past two days? It's a little farfetched. In fact, it's outright crazy. is his big plan, the plan he's refused to reveal for the past two days? It's a little farfetched. In fact, it's outright crazy.

"Paris?" Doris shrieks. Doris shrieks.

"Yeah. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time."

Jake says it as if it'll be a nostalgic return to the banks of the river Seine. Strange, coming from a kid who's never been more than a few hundred miles from New York City.

Doris is holding her head at the temples. "Why in the world do you want to do this?"

"I've read a lot about it, and it seems like a cool city. Also, I've been studying French for years. Might as well make some use of it."

Doris has to find a way into his plan, a way to temper the lunacy of it, and suddenly it comes to her. The hands fall from her temples. "What I think you're saying saying is, you want to go to is, you want to go to school school in Paris." in Paris."