Absent Friends

BOYS' OWN BOOK

Chapter 6

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The Old Masters
(Sailing Calmly On)

September 11, 1978: The Boys (Jack)

And the one who once, on that long-ago night, was about to leave? That was Jack. But Jack is here.

Half-brother to Tom, he works for the clean uncle, too, in the clean side of the business, and he has his own operation, an adjunct, sort of, to his father's business. Not what he wants: Atlanta is what Jack wants, the operation down there young and new, plenty of opportunity, nothing set yet, nothing required. This is Jack, always hungry, knows the answer before the question's finished.

Jack does leave, for a time, not Atlanta but New Haven. He knows his father, Mike the Bear (Jack has always called him “Dad,” his own father a loutish bully he does not remember, a man long gone), picked New Haven because it's closer to home, because they can keep an eye on him there. Other things, Jack's told, will come next, will come later. But New Haven doesn't last. There's a guy there, and a girl; there's trouble, though if you ask Jack he didn't mean anything by it, he was just spreading his wings, what's wrong with that? Everybody so serious all the time! Big Mike brings Jack back, smooths the trouble out (and it costs him: he has to up the take of the locals who move his goods, and he has to pretend to like it), this is how it's always been with Jack.

Jack's been here since. They tell him he's not ready; they tell him Atlanta will happen, but later. Jack hopes so, Jesus God he hopes so. He can't keep doing this, suffocating here in this tiny office—office!—next to Tom's, making calls to small-time bozos, fools who cut their prices because Jack raises his voice, or lowers it, Jack not even working up a sweat.

Jack wishes the war in 'Nam weren't over. When they were kids, there was the war. Some of the older boys in Pleasant Hills, kids' older brothers, went to fight. Jack and Tom, Jimmy and Markie, they played soldier games and couldn't wait for their turn. (Almost always it was Jimmy and Tom on one side, him and Markie on the other, and Jimmy and Tom mostly won because they were smart and patient; but it was Jack and Markie who came screaming out of trees, leaped up in muddy ambushes from drainage ditches, shot pow-pow-pow from the garage roof where no one else ever thought to climb.)

That would be cool, Jack thinks, going to war, that would have been so cool. Crashing through the heat, through the jungle, sneaking up on the enemy while rocket fire lights up the night sky. Leading a platoon, that would have been Jack, oh yeah. Talk about excitement, man, talk about seeing the world!

But they ended that war before the kids got their chance. The girls say that was good, they didn't want the boys to have to go. They say war is a bad thing. But girls don't know.



So Jack's here, Jack's waiting.

And this makes Jack laugh: some of the people who see how restless he is—hell, it's no secret—they think it's Tom. They think what Jack wants is to be the goddamn prince, be the one who's going to take over someday, be what Tom is. Shit. Shit, no! Best thing Tom ever did for Jack was to get born. Sitting with Big Mike for hours, Mike telling Tom: Do it this way, no, son, don't do that, call this guy, watch out for that one. If Jack had to do that, the way Tom does, the way Tom always did, Jesus, it would kill him.

No, not that bullshit.

But his own crew, Jack's okay with that. He's got some guys with balls there, guys who don't cross themselves when someone says Big Mike's name. He's got guys willing to take chances. No gain, Jack tells his guys, without risk. And no fun, either. The net don't appear, Jack tells them, unless you jump.



Eight years old: a summer morning, the kids hanging around on the rocks under the brand-new bridge, the boys and Sally fishing, Marian and Vicky sitting in the sun. The sun's hot, and the waves are crashing like this was the ocean, not just the Narrows, the water making the rocks all black and slippery. The kids can't see the far end of the bridge; it disappears into a thin, sparkly mist, and the spray from the waves makes rainbows all around them.

Vicky's counting how many fish everyone catches. You can't eat the fish from here, they'll poison you, you have to throw them back, so the only way to know who got the most is for someone to count. Mostly, the kids don't care, but Vicky likes counting. Tom usually gets the most, and Vicky always says she knew he would.

The fishing's pretty good where they are, but Jack keeps moving down the rocks, closer to the water. Tom's watching him but keeping his mouth shut. Hey, Jack calls all of a sudden, hey, cool! He puts down his pole and starts to lower himself into a place between the rocks.

What is it? shouts Markie, and he drops his pole, too, and scrambles, slippy-sliding on the slick rocks, toward Jack. Everyone else squints in their direction. Jimmy looks at Tom. Tom's mouth is a thin line, and he starts clambering over there. So does Jimmy, and then everyone else. Jack disappears down between the rocks. Marian shouts, Jack, be careful!

Markie, always fastest, gets there first. Just as he does, a big wave comes, fills up the place between the rocks with a crash of white foam. The foam backs off, and they hear Jack say, Whoa!

You okay? Markie shouts.

Jack coughs. Yeah, but shit, this shit is slippery! Markie, man, I gotta get out, help me get out of here.

The kids are all there now, looking down where Jack is, between the rocks. He's trying to climb out, but his hands and feet keep sliding on the slimy moss. Jack's face is white, he looks back over his shoulder like another wave's chasing him.

Markie flops down on his belly, sticks out his skinny arm. Jack grabs his hand. A wave comes. For a few seconds Jack disappears, comes back up sputtering, his eyes wild. Markie still has Jack's hand, but Jack's a lot bigger than Markie, Markie's just small and skinny and he can't pull Jack up, no way, but he keeps trying. Markie starts to slide across the rock, Jack pulling him down instead of him pulling Jack up, but Markie won't let go. Tom drops next to Markie, grips Jack's other arm with both hands. Jimmy plants his feet against a rock and grabs Markie's legs, keeps Markie from falling in. He pulls Markie and Tom pulls Jack, and finally Tom hauls Jack up.

Everyone ends up with skinned elbows or knees, bruises and bumps and cuts. Everyone's dripping wet. Jesus, Jack, says Tom.

Yeah, coughs Jack. Oh, shit, man, I can't breathe.

You can, says Jimmy, kneeling down so he can look right into Jack's eyes, Just in and out slowly, like always.

Jack's wild eyes skitter toward Jimmy, and he does what Jimmy says, he coughs and chokes, but he breathes in and out, in and out.

And then suddenly Jack grins. Anyway, he says, his voice raspy but tough again, almost Jack's normal voice. Anyway, look.

He sits, pulls something from the back pocket of his soaked jeans. The kids all lean around to look.

Jack coughs again, says, Some a*shole lost his wallet.

He thumbs it open. Credit cards, a driver's license, pictures. From the billfold part Jack pulls out a fan of limp and soggy bills. He peels them off each other and he counts them. It's eighty-two dollars, more money than any of the kids have ever seen. They pass it around, so everyone can see how it feels.

After everyone's had a turn, Marian says, We have to give it back.

Jack yells, Are you crazy? A*shole was dumb enough to lose it, I almost got drowned going after it, Markie too. Screw him, let's go get ice cream. He waves the bills, which have come back to him.

But his license, Marian says. And his kids' pictures.

He's an a*shole, Jack says.

Vicky looks at Tom. Everyone else does, too, even Jack; he scowls, but he waits for Tom to speak.

Tom says: Jack can keep the money. He says: It's not like the guy would ever get it back if Jack didn't climb down there.

Jack flashes Marian a grin and a big wink.

But we can give the wallet back, says Tom.

Hey, Jack says.

Tom says, What? You need pictures of his kids? You gonna take his Esso card and gas up the car or something?

Tom grins, and most of the other kids, and finally Jack does, too; it's a pretty funny idea, Jack pulling Mike the Bear's big Impala into the Esso station, sticking his head out the window, and hollering, Fill 'er up! Marian's the only one not smiling. She's looking at Jimmy, like this is a bad thing that happened and he's supposed to do something. But Jimmy's not so sure it's bad. What Tom says seems right to him, the whole thing seems fair. And for sure it's not bad enough to start a fight with Jack, who's pretending he doesn't care that all the kids saw how scared he was when he couldn't breathe. Right now, Jack's all lit up and promising everyone Eskimo Pies.

So Jimmy doesn't say anything. Marian, after a minute, looks away. She doesn't say anything, either. Vicky, she's smiling at Tom, and at Jack. Not just a regular smile, Jimmy thinks. Jimmy thinks Vicky looks the way his dad looks when they're watching a Mets game on TV, the Mets not doing so well, and Jimmy says, How come they don't take the pitcher out, put in a pinch hitter? And his dad says, Don't worry, Jim, Casey Stengel, he knows what he's doing. And Jimmy's not sure, but he waits and watches, and the pitcher singles, and the Mets score. And then Jimmy sees the same smile on his dad that he sees on Vicky now, looking at Tom.



Why doesn't Jack just leave? It's a big world out there, why doesn't he go see some of it?

Because Big Mike's saying, Soon. If Jack waits, Big Mike will set him up, get him his own operation, make him part of the machine. Guys, major guys, will have a beer with him, tell him what's what, in Atlanta, in Portland, wherever this happens.

And if he doesn't wait, if he leaves on his own, he's on his own.

It may come to that. It may have to. And it might be okay if it did, thinks Jack, except this: his mom. If Jack walks out on Big Mike, he doesn't come back, that would be the deal and he knows it. And his mom, this is what she's always been afraid of, Jack knows that, too. Jack did some weird, wild things when he was a kid, does some now, and he'd probably have done even more, played with fire, stuck his head in a lion's mouth, except for the way his mom always looked at him. Not mad, the way Big Mike gets, red and furious. His mom's eyes, when Jack does something loony and gets in trouble (this is how it was when he came back from New Haven), they're happy and sad at the same time. Like she knows something bad is coming for Jack, and she's glad, so glad, it wasn't this time.

Jack would have gone long ago, if his mom's eyes didn't look like that.

So Jack stays. He goes to the office, he runs his crew and hangs out. And waits.

Is he happy? Yeah, sure. Jack's happy.