Scott Spencer - A Ship Made of Paper

“Da da…”

“It’s not something you think about?Well, your son does.Your

son …”His voice curdles around the word.He hears it himself, won-ders for a moment at the ugliness with which he has infused it, and then he sees Iris’s suddenly steely gaze. Fuck it .Yet even the phrase, and the way it stiff-arms his feelings, the way it pushes him out oflove and into the emptiness and foreverness ofhis own solitude cannot stop the anger that is enveloping him like a trance, and when Nelson walks past him, Daniel is astonished by his own sudden desire to throttle the boy.

“Da da da da da da.”

“What is he doing down here?”Iris asks.

”He got up, he came down.What was I supposed to do?”

“Oh Jesus,”says Iris, while making a series ofcomforting gestures toward Hampton. Easy now, it’s okay, I’m here, easy, easy …Nelson is next to her now, pressing his forehead into her stomach.She staggers back a step, touches him, holds him.

“What in the fuck are you people doing with a gun in your house?”

Daniel says.

“You people?”Iris asks.“I don’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“You know what I’m saying, don’t try to turn this into somethingelse.”

“Well, wepeople don’t always feel safe when we’re living in a house surrounded by you people .”

“Da! Da!”

“All right, Iris.”He feels tugging at his shirt and looks down at Ruby.

Her face is flush, her eyes immense and glittering.

“Why is he saying that, Daniel?”

“It’s okay, honey.We’re going to leave now.”

“But why is he saying that over and over?”

“He’s not feeling well, baby.”

“He’s not feeling well?”Iris says.

”All right,”says Daniel.“You supply the answer.Your kid just fired a bullet two inches over her head, so I’m sure this would be the right time to fill her in on all the neurological details.”

Daniel lifts Ruby offthe ground.“Sorry,”he says.“There’s something about a kid getting a bullet in the head that puts me a little on edge.”

“I didn’t do it,”Nelson whimpers, looking imploringly up at Iris.

“Shh,”she says, soothing his forehead.Then, to Daniel,“No one was hurt.The only person hurt around here is Hampton.”

“Thanks to me.”

“Okay, ifthat’s how you want it.”

Hampton, walking now toward the porch, toward his family, bumps into Daniel, and Daniel, with a vivid surge oftemper, grabs the gun out ofHampton’s hand.He doesn’t know what he will do with it—he thinks again ofsimply heaving it—but he is certain that it must no longer be in Hampton’s possession, nor with any ofthem.He will take it to the river.

Or to the police.Yes, the police…

The police the police …He thinks it over and over, incorporating the unfamiliar idea into his little corner ofconsciousness.And then he turns and sees the police have indeed arrived—Derek Pabst and Jeff Crane.They enter Hampton and Iris’s backyard, exuding confidence and implacability with every long stride.Their service revolvers are still hol-stered.They hold their caps in their hands, like country folk calling on neighbors.

“Da da da da…”

Crane, boyish at forty, with neatly combed reddish hair and a prim, self-righteous mouth, sees that Daniel is holding a gun.Hampton and Iris stand together on the porch.

“You want to place that weapon on the ground, Dan,”Crane says.

Daniel does as he is told, immediately.

”We got a call about someone doing some shooting around here,”

Derek says.

“My fault,”Daniel says, knowing he must, knowing any other answer will cause more trouble than his taking the blame.

Crane picks up the pistol, checks to see ifthere are any cartridges.

Daniel watches him, wonders ifCrane knows how far his daughter, Mercy, has gone to escape his world.

“Da da da da da da da da da da da da da da…”

“What the hell is he saying?”Crane asks.

“He’s all right,”Derek says.“Don’t worry about that.”Then, to Daniel:“Whose gun is this?”

“Mine.”

“Yours?”Derek tucks his chin in, shakes his head.“Why’d you fire it?”

“Derek, come on.Obviously it was an accident.”

“That’s a hell ofan accident, man.”

“Was anyone hurt? Did it hit anything?”

“Scared the hell out ofat least two people.Enough to call.”Daniel sees it playing out.Derek does not believe him, he knows Daniel hasn’t brought a concealed weapon to this house, but he’s going to let it pass.

“Is this weapon registered in your name?”Crane asks.

”Yes, it is.”

“Mind ifwe take a look?”

“I don’t have it with me,”Daniel says.He turns away from Crane, directs his request to Derek.“How about I bring in the paperwork a little later on?”

Derek looks at Iris, Hampton, and Nelson on the porch, and the three ofthem are silent, their faces blank, their gazes slightly averted, as his eyes carefully move over them.Satisfied, Derek turns back toward Daniel and, indicating Ruby, he says,“You’re carrying pretty precious cargo there, buddy.”

“I know, Derek.I know.”

“It would be a hell ofa thing.”

“I know.”

“Kate know you’re here?”

“No.”

Derek nods, his lower lip slightly extended.After a silence that seems to go on and on, he asks,“You all right?”

“Me?”asks Daniel.

”Yeah.”

“I’m fine, Derek.Just a stupid mistake.”

Derek gestures to Crane, time to leave.Crane hands the pistol back to Daniel.

“You okay?”Derek asks Ruby.

”I’m fine,”she says.“It was stupid.”

While they are talking, Iris, Hampton, and Nelson go inside their house.Daniel doesn’t notice until he hears the door close behind them.

He only wants to go home, but he drives to his office instead.He can no longer afford to pay SheilaAlvarez’s salary—nor can he bear her occa-sional disdain—and he has cut her hours to two halfdays a week.When he lets himself into the office he is surprised to see her there.She is at her desk, behind a pile ofwhat looks like at least a hundred files.

“What are you doing here, Sheila?”

“I’ve been going through the files.There’s a lot ofpeople who owe you money, did you know that?”

He shakes his head no.

She looks at him and then she, too, shakes her head.“You poor thing,”

she says.“Just look at you.”She swivels her chair, puts her back to him, and resumes entering numbers on a calculator.“Your parents were here about twenty minutes ago,”she says.“They dropped an envelope on your desk.”

He goes into his office.He and Iris cleared offhis desk last time they made love here, and now the only things that are on it are his telephone and the envelope left by Carl and Julia.He opens it.

Dear Dan,

You’re going to think we’ve gone senile, but we’ve decided not to change our wills, after all.The Raptor Center can do without us, and we’re going to keep things the way they were.

Much love,

Mother and Dad He stares at the words on the page until they blur and swim away.So the birds won’t be getting his parents’money after all.He buries his face in his hands.Was this why he’d come all this way? Had he just been given what he had been seeking all along, this small, glancing caress?

He is exhausted, he feels unequal to the task ofhis life.He is not put together for such difficulties.

Three hours later, at two in the afternoon, Daniel is in his house, drinking a warm beer, staring out his small living room window at what he can see ofthe white oak in front, he is crouched deep down into the cellar ofhimself, waiting for the storm to pass.He does his best to speak kindly and rationally to himself, but he is inconsolable.He thinks ofthe tone ofIris’s voice as she spoke to him from her porch, the distance, the contempt.As soon as there was anger she spoke to him as ifhe were, first and foremost, a white man.What happened to love bringing history to its knees? How could all those old adversities be having their way?