Lillian caught up with him as he sat on the edge of the tub. She stood in the hall, watching him through the doorway, arms crossed and head down.
“I’d been working at Lubbick and Weiss for only about eleven months,” she began. She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “They had a very good dental plan. You just turned four, and it was past time for you to start seeing a dentist. And they had an excellent eye care plan. Grandma had glaucoma when she was only forty, so I worried something like that could happen to me. I felt very happy to be at the job. They were in midtown so I could just take the seven straight there and walk six blocks to the office.”
Apollo turned on the warm water and let it fill the bucket.
“But one of the lawyers, a man named Charles Blackwood, he started to spend a lot of time at my desk. I knew what that meant. And a few of the other girls warned me he was persistent. I would say he was relentless. He reminded me of your father except without the sweetness. He gave us tickets to see a show once. Do you remember that? At Shea Stadium. The Police and…who was it? Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. That was it.”
Apollo said nothing, only watched the bucket fill.
“Why would he think I would even enjoy that music? I didn’t know who those people were. All I really remember anymore is that it was loud. There were so many white people. And all of them were drinking. I think he meant for me to go with him, but I took you instead. We both had a bad night’s sleep that night.”
As the water ran, Apollo grabbed the wood cleaner and read its list of ingredients. Laureth-6 and organic cocos, nucifera oil, and caprylyl/decyl glucoside. He kept reading though the list of ingredients became less and less pronounceable. Lillian Kagwa might feel compelled to tell him this story, but that didn’t mean he had to listen. Why was he so sure he didn’t want to listen?
“I tried to be nice about saying no to Charles, but some men, you can’t be nice to them. If you’re polite, they think it means you’re undecided. They hear your tone and ignore your words. It makes life a lot harder for the woman, but I don’t think a man like that notices.
“At a certain point I had to tell him, clearly, that I would not go out with him. I didn’t actually put it that way. I said I had a boyfriend. I wish I’d just said no, but it was hard to be that direct. I said I had a boyfriend and that was why I couldn’t go out with him. And do you know what he did? He made me start coming into the office on Saturday mornings. He wasn’t even there when I came in. It wasn’t like he wanted to see me. He wanted to punish me. And what could I do? Working there less than a year? I needed the job.”
The water reached the rim of the bucket, but Apollo didn’t shut it off. He’d turned back toward Lillian and lowered the bottle of wood cleaner. She dropped her arms and raised her head, meeting Apollo’s eyes. She stepped one foot into the bathroom but stopped there.
“For three weekends I was able to leave you with one of the other mothers in the building. Usually MJ and Petey’s family. You all liked each other, so that was easy. But one weekend I couldn’t get anyone to watch you. Just a lot of bad luck all at the same time. I called in and explained to the service, but Charles Blackwood called me personally soon afterward, from his home in Connecticut. He said if I didn’t go in, he’d let the partners know. He didn’t even come out and say he’d get me fired, but he reminded me of how much the partners liked discipline in the staff. I argued with him. I couldn’t argue for myself, but I felt I was arguing for you, and then I was fearless. Finally I talked him down to a half day. I’d come in from ten to one. He wouldn’t accept less. I got off the phone, and I felt completely lost. I tried everyone I knew. Either they weren’t home to answer the phone, or who knows what. Lots of people didn’t have answering machines back then, you couldn’t even leave a message. Anyway, I had no help. What could I do? The longer I tried to think of something, the later it got. So finally. Finally. I left you at home.”
The water splashed over the bucket, into the tub, running to the drain. Apollo hardly heard it. He stood now, facing Lillian, the two like rival gunslingers.
“In the living room, I set out a sippy cup of milk and two sippy cups with water. I set out toast with peanut butter, a bag of popcorn, and a bowl full of grapes, I think. You were potty-trained by then, but I put you in an overnight diaper, and you didn’t like that. You kept tearing it off, so finally I brought in two plastic buckets and left them on the far side of the couch. That’s the thing that made you scared. Not when I told you I was leaving for a while, but the fact that you’d be doing number one and number two in the living room. Then I turned the television on. You paid no attention to me after that. Your fears disappeared once I found your shows. The Smurfs. I said you could watch TV until I came back. You kissed me. I remember. You kissed me. I probably kissed your head fifty times. I shut the front door and locked it. I went to work. You were four.”
Lillian took two more steps into the bathroom, her eyes on the bathtub faucet. She watched the water overflow rather than turn it off. Apollo had turned only the hot water handle, and steam rose from the bucket. Lillian stared into the steam.
“When I got home, you were asleep. The popcorn and the milk and one of the waters was finished. The grapes were finished. The peanut butter toast was facedown on the carpet. One of the buckets had pee in it, and the TV was on. American Bandstand. You’d passed out on the couch. You were all right. I never felt more relieved in all my life.
“But then when next Saturday came around, and MJ and Petey were visiting family in New Jersey, I set things up the same way, with you in the living room, and I went in to work for a half day. When I got back, things were exactly like the first time. You were so good! It worked well, so it became the routine. I worked half days on Saturdays, and that seemed like enough to satisfy Charles Blackwood. I even felt proud of you for being so self-sufficient. At least that’s how I justified it to myself.”
Lillian sat on the edge of the tub, looking at the steaming water flowing into the bucket. She reached out and turned off the water, watched as the last droplets fell from the spout. Apollo, still standing, leaned against the wall, beside the towel rack.
“But then things changed. You started waking up with nightmares. You screamed that your daddy was at the front door. You said he had come here to get you but then left you behind. Why did he have to leave you behind? That about killed me.”
Apollo sat on the toilet so he’d be level with his mother. “Are you telling me my father really was at the apartment?”
“Yes.” She said this so quietly that he practically had to read her lips.
“It was a memory, not a dream.”
“Yes,” Lillian said, even more softly.
They both remained quiet. Excess water gurgled as it drained from the tub.