The Night Gardener

RAMONE ENTERED HIS HOME on Rittenhouse and locked his gun and shield in the usual drawer. The first floor was still. He went to a small table in the dining room holding bottles of liquor and poured himself a shot of Jameson. It went down right. He could have killed the whole bottle. If not for his family, it would have been easy to become that kind of man.

 

Ramone checked the locks on the front and back doors and went up the stairs.

 

In the hallway, he noticed the bar of light under his bedroom door. He walked into Alana’s room and found her asleep in her bed, her Barbies, Kens, and Groovy Girls lined up on the blanket, their backs against the wall, all neatly spaced in a row. He bent forward and kissed Alana’s cheek. He brushed a strand of damp, curly hair off her forehead and stood looking at her for a moment before he turned off her bedside light.

 

Ramone went to Diego’s room, knocked on the door, and pushed it open. Diego was atop the sheets, listening to a Backyard CD on his portable system, keeping the volume low. He was looking through a Don Diva magazine but did not seem to be engaged in it. His eyes were hollow, and it appeared he had been crying. His world had been tilted. It would right itself, but never to the degree of comfort where it had been.

 

“You okay?”

 

“I’m blown, Dad.”

 

“Let’s talk some,” said Ramone, pulling a chair over to his son’s bed. “Then you should get to sleep.”

 

A little while later, Ramone closed Diego’s door behind him and walked down the hall to his own bedroom. Regina was in their king, reading a book under the light of a lamp, her head on a doubled pillow. They exchanged a long look, and then Ramone undressed and went to the bathroom, where he washed thoroughly and tried to get the smell of beer and liquor off his breath. He came back to the bed in his boxers and got under the sheets. Regina turned into him and they embraced. He kissed her soft lips once and again, and found himself hard and kissed her with his open mouth. She pushed him gently away.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” said Regina. “You getting greedy, going for two in a row.”

 

“A guy can dream, can’t he?”

 

“You better sleep before you have that dream. Comin in here back-to-back nights with liquor on your breath.”

 

“That’s the mouthwash. It’s got alcohol in it.”

 

“You talking about that mouthwash comes from Dublin?”

 

“Go ahead, Regina.”

 

“You and your new drinking buddy, Doc Holiday.”

 

“He’s all right.”

 

“What’s he looking like these days?”

 

“He’s got a little belly on him. They call it the Holiday Hump.”

 

They embraced again. She fit into him exactly. It was as though they were one person, separated each day, brought back together at night. He couldn’t imagine being apart from her, not even in death.

 

“You smell like booze and cigarettes, like you did when we first started dating,” said Regina. “When you’d show up at my apartment after last call. What was that place you liked, where all those new wave white girls used to hang out? Constipation?”

 

“The Constable. That wasn’t me. Least it doesn’t seem like it today.”

 

“Now we’ve got this. And all the challenges that go with it.”

 

“And the good things, too.”

 

She had turned off her lamp, and they were in darkness, their eyes slowly adjusting to the absence of light. Ramone brushed his fingers down Regina’s arm.

 

“What are we going to do about Diego?” said Regina.

 

“I talked to him,” said Ramone. “He can finish out the year in his old school. It feels right. Next year we can put him in one of the blue-collar Catholic high schools. Carroll, DeMatha… either one of those would be a good place for him.”

 

“How’re we gonna afford that?”

 

“It’s not like it’s a fortune. I’ll sell the house in Silver Spring, I have to. Hell, the dirt alone’s worth a bundle. We’ll be fine.”

 

“Did you talk about Asa?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How was Diego with it?”

 

“His world got rocked. He’s probably stressing about all the times he called his friend soft or gay. Not knowing what that kid was going through inside.”

 

“Can you imagine what it’s like to be that way in this climate? Being told all the time that you’re not wanted, that there’s no place for you in this new compassionate world. All the hate we got out here, and the politicians throwing gasoline on the fire. I don’t know what Bible those haters are reading, but it’s not the one I was raised on.”

 

“Forget about those fuckin idiots. What about everyday people who aren’t about hate but still spread it? Diego didn’t mean anything by those words, but now it’s got him thinking hard on what comes out of his mouth. I been thinking on it myself.”

 

“You and all your friends.”

 

“You’re right. Down at the office we go back and forth with that kinda shit all day. You’d look good in a dress, you’ve got gaydar… all that.”

 

“So you gonna change your ways now, huh?”

 

“Probably not,” said Ramone. “I’m just a man, no more enlightened than any other. But I am gonna think twice before I talk that kind of trash. I hope Diego does, too.”

 

“What else you and your son talk about?” said Regina. “You were in his room a while.”

 

“I was putting the last piece of the puzzle together on Asa’s death. I was pretty sure I knew, but Diego confirmed it.”

 

“And?”

 

“You know how I always told him to be aware of any firearms in the homes of his friends?”

 

“I know. That’s your biggest fear.”

 

“I’ve seen way too many accidents, Regina. Kids finding their fathers’ guns and testing them out.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Diego and his friends just have that knowledge. They read the gun magazines because they’re boys and they’re interested. The Spriggs twins know I have a Glock and that I keep it locked up. They all know these things.”

 

“Oh, Gus…”

 

“Diego says that Asa’s father kept a revolver in their home. He didn’t know if it was a thirty-eight. But I’m betting that it was.”

 

“Lord.”

 

“The ultimate fuck-you to his old man,” said Ramone. “Asa killed himself with his father’s gun.”

 

She hugged him tightly. They lay in the dark and neither of them could find sleep.

 

“Will you go to church with us on Sunday?” said Regina.

 

Ramone said that he would.

 

 

 

 

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