Torey Hayden - Overheard in a Dream

Several more minutes passed with James still sitting quietly at the table and the boy curled up on the floor. Then finally Conor struggled slowly to his feet. Carefully he checked the status of his four strings and adjusted them at his waist, then he looked over at James, staring him straight in the eye. Tears were still wet over his cheeks and snot ran onto his upper lip. In an unexpectedly normal, boy-like gesture, Conor raised his free arm and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Here,” James said, getting a box of tissues. “Would you like one of these?”

Suspiciously, Conor regarded the box.

James pulled out a tissue and lay it on the table near where Conor was standing.

For a long moment Conor simply regarded it, his brow furrowing as if it were a mysterious object. Then he reached out for it. With great care he began to smooth the tissue out flat on the tabletop, a difficult task given that he was still clutching the stuffed cat against him with the other hand.

“York?” Conor said unexpectedly. Reaching down on the floor, he picked up the small plastic cow-like animal. He examined it carefully. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, the cat says yes.” He nodded. “York.”

“You mean ‘auroch’?” James ventured.

“Yeah,” the boy responded in his typical high-pitched singsong voice. He didn’t lift his head to acknowledge James had spoken. “York. Ee-york.”

“Aur-och,” James murmured.

“Oar-ock. Auroch. Yes. The cat says yes. An auroch. A wild cow.” The words were spoken very deliberately, as if they took effort. He set the plastic animal on the table. “The cat knows.”

James felt excited. They had communicated. In his mind’s eye he saw himself as one of those scientists who operated the big satellite dishes that listened for signs of alien life in outer space, that were alert for the slightest variant crackle that might indicate conscious intelligence. You heard it and that was enough to go on, to keep up the belief it existed. The slightest crackle, the smallest sign.

From the moment James saw Mikey emerging from the skyway wearing only his underpants, he knew things weren’t getting off on the right foot. Becky came mincing along behind in that way she had when she found her brother totally disgusting. Then she saw James and virtually bowled Mikey over in her excitement to reach him. “Daddy!” she cried and threw herself into his arms.

James scooped his eight-year-old daughter up into a bear hug.

“Guess what?” she said gleefully. “Mikey threw up. That’s how come he’s got no clothes on. Look. He got throw-up on my dress.”

“Hey, Michael, buddy, what happened to you? Too many yummy airplane meals?” James endeavoured to lift both children at once which made them squeal.

“He had too many M&Ms,” Becky replied. “Because Mum bought the bag for both of us, but then I went to the bathroom and Mikey pigged down practically all of them while I was gone. So it’s his own fault. I don’t feel sorry for him.”

“You should, you little monster,” James said playfully and smooched her on the nose. “He’s your brother, no matter what.” Then he whisked Mikey up in his arms again. “I bet you threw up polka dots, huh, if it was M&Ms?” Mikey giggled. “Your mum should know better than to give you a whole bag of candy.”

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” James said, as he collected their bags and headed for the car.

“What is it?” Becky asked as they left the terminal building.

“Just wait and see. Out here. In the car park.”

“A pony?” Becky asked hopefully.

James laughed and ruffled her hair. “No, silly, I wouldn’t come to pick you up riding a pony, would I?”

“Uncle Joey says everybody rides horses out here.”

“No, look at Daddy’s cool car!” James pointed to the copper-coloured ’71 Ford Mustang convertible. “Isn’t that beautiful?”

Sandy had kept the Range Rover because it was a safe car for the kids. James drove out to South Dakota in a clapped-out Ford Taurus his brother Jack had picked up off eBay. Buying the convertible with its over-sized, futuristic bonnet and powerful Boss 429 engine was James’s first acknowledgement that his old life was over.

Becky wasn’t quite so impressed. “It’s just a car ,” she said with disappointment.

“It’s a classic car.”

“It’s an old car,” she replied disdainfully. “It’s a cool car. For cool people. Like us, huh, Mike? What do you think? Does your dad drive a cool car or what?”

“Yeah, I like it,” he said and ran his hand along the fender.

Becky peered through the window as James put the suitcase in the boot. “The back seat’s really little. I don’t see how you get in. There’s no back doors.”

“Here. You open the front door, then press the lever down on the back of the front seat and tip it forward, like this.”

“It’s kind of stinky in here. Like somebody smoked.”

“That was a long time ago, so don’t worry about it. Just get in. You too, Mike. And fasten your seat belts.”

“Where’s your other car?” she asked. “The real one.”

“If you mean the Jeep, that one isn’t actually mine. It belongs to Uncle Lars. Usually when you visit, we trade. He takes this car, because yes, you’re right, there isn’t really lots of room for getting in and out. But Uncle Lars is hunting elk this weekend, so he needed to use the Jeep himself because it has four-wheel drive. Anyway, this car’s way nicer. You’ll see. If the weather stays nice, I’ll put the top down. You’ll love it then.”

“Daddy?” Mikey asked. “Is Uncle Lars our real uncle?”

“He’s not an uncle by blood. Uncle Lars is my partner in the practice. But he and Aunt Betty are Daddy’s good friends and they always remember you in nice ways, so we make them honorary members of the family.”

“Yeah, we got another uncle like that,” Mikey replied. “His name’s Uncle Joey.”

“Yes, the guy who thinks we all ride horses out here. So who’s he?”

“Well, basically he’s Mum’s boyfriend,” Becky replied.

“Then he’s not your uncle,” James muttered irritably.

“Mum said we should call him that. Probably just ’cause like with you and Uncle Lars, he’s her good friend,” Becky said.

“Uncle Jack’s your uncle back there. He’s your real uncle. And I’m your real dad.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Yes, well, be sure to remember it.”

James missed the kids so much that it had become easy to want the visits to be perfect, to cram in all the treats and fun he missed sharing with them on a day-to-day basis. Anyway, a little spoiling never hurt.

Their new family tradition had become a trip to Toys ’R’ Us for a shopping spree on the day Mikey and Becky arrived. It always started with James playfully exclaiming that because they were not with him all the time, he “didn’t have enough toys at his house” and they needed to “get something to play with” while they were there. This always generated squeals of excitement and a pleasurable orgy of toy shopping.