Sputterpub's Blog

It was one of those end-of-college parties. Potluck clean-out-the-fridge fare, with a congenial group of graduating seniors. Gail and Jean were giving up their northside apartment, and with a little help they put together spaghetti and salad and garlic bread for those of us who were still around.

I knew them, but not as well as my old friend did. Susan had gone through the experimental two-year Abbot program with Gail, and she and Jean knew one another from high school. I had the kind of chattery acquaintance that comes of sharing an occasional Benzedrine-stoked all-nighter before language finals, or a spontaneous day (I could remember two with Gail) of shopping and weird eating.

I wasn’t particularly eager to party with them, but I had nothing else to do that Thursday night, and I was curious about Mrs. Carter. She reportedly had a profound effect on Gail. Susan told me Mrs. Carter became something of a mentor when Gail took her comparative literature course, and in everyone’s opinion Gail, normally strong-willed, was too much under the influence of her charismatic professor.

“Influence to do what?” I remember asking Susan when I first heard the story. We were walking across campus on crunchy leaves, so it had to be that last autumn. Susan would have been wearing pressed trousers – she always did – and her black hair would shine to her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing corrupt,” she answered. “It’s just that Gail is always quoting her and following her advice and – I don’t know – almost managed by her.” She looked away from me, for traffic, as we crossed the street on the west side of campus. “It’s eerie to watch Gail act as some sort of acolyte. It’s not in her nature.”

That sounded true. Gail was very intelligent, of strong opinions, quick to judge and slow to embarrass. She was the kind of person who marched to her own tempo, out of step with most others but not jarring. Her father was a noted Jewish neurosurgeon in Tulsa; the family had to be resilient to flourish there, and she and her brothers had to be organized and effective to be heard in that family. Gail was quick, expressive, and learned languages easily. She was plump and her roommate Jean was anorexic; we knew she had to be pretty durable to deal with that. (Jean at her nadir dined on a thinly-sliced quarter cucumber garnished with three fresh peas, and felt full. Her knees were the biggest part of her legs. She had to be carried to finals.) And I knew Gail was capable of orchestrating a four-hour non-stop walking binge. By careful sequencing of salt, sweet, and fat, she had shown me twice how to spend a whole afternoon walking from treat to treat, talking around ice cream and french fries, jelly beans and Triscuits.

I remember looking at Susan that day and marveling at her description of Gail in thrall. She walked with her usual fast but disconnected gait, like she was severed at the neck and her head had no idea of her body. Susan can’t ride a bike. She can’t dance. She’s the most cerebral person I’ve ever met. She’s a dark-haired Swede, raised Lutheran but inclusively religious. I think she would have been a nun except she was born into the wrong tradition. She has always honored tradition.

I used to think Susan should be blonde. Gail brunette. Jean fat. But life didn’t play the way I thought. None of us could ever have guessed it would be Susan who had the most kids, or that Gail would birth triplets. All of us were completely astounded when beautiful Jean, cured and fleshed at last, announced that she was gay.

Peter thought Lilah was going to go camping with him over spring break. For the last three years they’d gone together to Death Valley, and they’d been planning to do it again. The wilderness is the arena of Peter’s competence. He and Lilah had their best times away from population. But as the time for their trip grew closer, so did Lilah’s feeling that she shouldn’t go. She realized that right then Peter couldn’t appear competent to her. If she went with him she would fight with him. She told him so: “I can’t go with you now. If I go I’ll argue with you. You should go with Saul instead. You two can have some meaningful time together.”

Peter’s attempt to persuade her to just-go-and-not-argue was brief even for him. So he asked Saul and a day later he had his son’s reply. Lilah was first surprised that he offered the trip as an invitation, and then she was surprised at herself for being surprised. Saul’s answer: “Gee, Dad…sounds great. Love to camp with you sometime, but that’s not a convenient week. It’s spring break, you know? A lot of my friends go to school, and their parents won’t let them party on school nights. So break is my opportunity to get together with them…And since I’m not going to school, you and I can camp just about any time. So I’ll take a rain check, okay?”

That wasn’t the end of it. Lilah isn’t sure how it came about, because she saw less and less of Peter, but it turned out that Saul and Peter did go to Death Valley for three of the nine days of break. Peter reported the trip to her with some satisfaction. They’d had some good hikes and some talks. Saul agreed to try school again; this time in Berkeley. The high point of the trip was the night they camped at the end of a canyon. They had a good fire and Peter shared a bottle of Moutai with Saul. Moutai is 106 proof alcohol made from wheat, sorghum and water. They probably drank 375 ml. Saul was then 13½.

Lilah and Peter last saw each other a few weeks afterward, and last spoke a month after that, when Peter returned from another Portals weekend and sought more clarity. Lilah’s disrespect for him had finally reached a level even he could not ignore, and he turned quietly away. She was careful not to summon him back. She had decided not to call Social Services; she thought they would be disruptive at best. She had tried to be heard every way she could. She didn’t want to stay around any longer and watch.

She was friendly but careful during their final phone call. She said she was sorry that Saul found middle school so frightening, but she was glad that Peter and Saul had “made a commitment to get him educated.” She listened when Peter told her how much he would prefer it if Saul went to a private high school, but Saul wanted independent studies at Berkeley High. That would be an odd choice for a freshman, Lilah thought, but she didn’t even understand how the boy could go to high school without completing eighth grade. She thanked Peter for the call. Four months passed before she heard of him again.

That’s not to say she didn’t think of him. Scarcely a day passed without her thanking Whomever for getting Peter out of her life. She saw him in his pickup truck at least six times but he never noticed her, which was typical of his inattention. Once she even called him, to relay a message left on her machine. It was from someone begging off a Portals program, so she knew he was still doing that. And when she called the phone was answered by Zeke, so she figured he and Valerie still lived there. Zeke told her Peter wasn’t home, offered to take a message, and said “you got it” in response to her words, but she knew Peter wouldn’t get it. She chuckled a bit at Peter the Portals recruiter, who set up a telephone message system where the caller is deceived into thinking he has communicated.

She even thought of him at back-to-school night. She wondered for a moment if Saul could be enrolled there, and she looked around the auditorium for Peter as the opening speech ended. There was a crowd, but she figured she’d see him if he were there. She didn’t see him. He wasn’t there.

The preliminary address that night, before the parents started the circuit of classrooms, was about the hideous coincidence of three student deaths in the few weeks since school had begun. Two kids were killed in car accidents. One student at east campus was stabbed to death. The principal talked about how deeply the faculty and administration were affected, and how readily social and mental health services were available. The audience was quiet. The deaths were unrelated, and the school certainly wasn’t to blame, but the loss of any youngster is a devastation.

On Friday evening Lilah’s son greeted her with solemn news. That morning they’d had the death of a fourth student reported to them. A freshman taking independent studies. He had been missing four days before his body was found, floating face down in the marina. His name was Saul something.

“Sam,” Lilah began, “do you think it could be Peter’s son?”

Sam’s face crumpled with concern. “I thought there was something familiar about this. And there’s a weird message from Mary.”

Lilah went downstairs and pressed the white button. The answering machine whirred and played the voice of Sam’s old therapist. “This is for Lilah and Sam. Hi you guys. It’s Mary. I just heard some disturbing news and I thought about you. I hope you’re doing okay. If you want to talk, call me.”

The next morning’s newspaper had details. It was Peter’s Saul. He never came home from the Saturday midnight movie. His body was discovered Wednesday morning by a woman rower, but it wasn’t identified until Thursday, when Peter filed a Missing Person report. The police said there were no signs of foul play.

Peter is miserable right now. He’s almost immobilized with guilt. But his is a quick mind and a resilient nature. It won’t be very long at all before Peter has reinterpreted events so that he isn’t responsible for any of them.

Peter had invited Lilah to dinner that night. They had a reservation at a good restaurant. She was just about ready to go when he arrived at 6:30, but he wanted to make a phone call. She half-attended as she fed her dog, and she heard the monotonous tones of him recording a message for Saul. He was shaking his head at the end.

“What’s the matter?” Lilah asked while she clipped the kibble bag shut. “Saul not where he should be?”

Peter mumbled something. He sidled past her to hang up the phone. “No,” he said aloud. “And I’m a little irritated. Last time this happened we agreed that he’d call.”

“Last time what happened?”

“He didn’t come home.”

“Are you telling me Saul didn’t come home last night?”

“Yes.”

“Well…when was the last time you saw him?”

“Saturday afternoon.”

“Peter. It’s Monday night now. Saturday was two days ago!” Lilah began to feel exasperated.

As usual Peter responded with what seemed like increased calmness. “I know that. I believe he was seen today. I know he’s okay.”

“Well I’ll call the restaurant.”

“Why?”

“To tell them we’re not coming. It’s nice to let them know, or they may try to hold our table.” If her words had been feet they would have stamped.

“I don’t see any reason not to have dinner. What do you want to do instead?”

“We could search for Saul…”

“I told you he was seen today. He was in Danville. Who knows where he is now.”

“I can’t believe how calm you are, Peter. I’d be beside myself.”

“I was pretty shook up the last time it happened. He didn’t come home from the movie and then didn’t even call until Wednesday night. It turned out he was helping a runaway friend.” Lilah had to ask a question or two before Peter continued.

“Saul met Zeke at the theater, and started helping him with props. Valerie is Zeke’s girlfriend. They’re both 15, from Danville, and have dropped out of school. Zeke is dyslexic and has ADD. Valerie’s parents decided that Zeke was a bad influence on her; they tried to keep Valerie in school and away from Zeke. So Valerie ran away. Her parents called the cops. Zeke and Saul were helping Valerie evade the authorities. That’s why Saul disappeared.”

“So this is the second time Saul has not come home from that movie?”

“Well, no. Actually, there was one other time, but he was only gone till Sunday.” Peter then told Lilah the story that involved Judith. “Come to think of it,” he concluded, “I think Valerie was running then, too.”

“Could it be happening a third time?”

“I suppose yes. But Saul should call me. I took him to LA for the Portals teen program, and we got a lot straight after that. I’m really disappointed that he hasn’t called. But let’s get going or we will lose that table.”

Peter heard from Saul two nights later. He chose to believe the story that there were no telephones available before then. He was comforted to hear that there’d be no more disappearing because Valerie no longer had to run. Her parents had declared her “incorrigible.” They wouldn’t be looking for her any more. Peter consented when Saul asked him to let Valerie and Zeke move in with them. He sponsored their handfasting ceremony. He also recruited Zeke’s 32 year-old mother and 48 year-old grandmother into Portals. He began working on teen tuition for Zeke and Valerie as well.

He thought things were settling satisfactorily. He and Zeke and Valerie and Saul lived together pretty well, or would if he could ever figure out a way to get the kids to clean up after themselves, or take a phone message, or watch over Warren, or stop arguing. As it was, they paid more attention to their video games than to the clutter around them, and they seemed to want to be outside smoking cigarettes when they weren’t playing video games. Although Saul had already had enough sex for his first case of crabs and enough drugs to have stories about breakfast acid before his rare school days, Lilah was more shocked about the tobacco than anything else. The image of Saul with a lit filterless cigarette between his small fingers would hang forever on her memory walls. Peter disregarded her comments about it. Meanwhile Zeke and Valerie thought Peter was cool, especially once he started buying eggs and mayonnaise and white bread in quantity; they lived on fried egg sandwiches. They didn’t even mind paying rent after Peter gave Zeke some jobs to do and some wages, although Zeke’s disabilities got in the way of his working as much as they had disrupted his schooling, so the labor-and-rent schemes didn’t last long.

Peter went deeper into Portals. He enrolled in the Partner Program, a two-year session about teamwork, and he had to put in weekly time at workshops. Saul said he had gotten enough out of the teen program that he didn’t need to continue with Portals; he wouldn’t agree to take another seminar with his father. That was a big disappointment for Peter, but then it was convenient to have Zeke and Valerie around, as company for Saul when Peter was away. It became less convenient a little later, after Valerie began to suspect Saul’s trustworthiness. She fed him a false secret and he passed it on. So she was vindicated but Saul was infuriated. His level of affectation rose. He began to wear mascara and assert that he was immortal. He tried to mesmerize Lilah’s dog and other domesticated animals. He claimed he no longer experienced cold, not since he’d first slept under a bridge some months before.

Meanwhile, Lilah was wondering if she should call in Social Services or something. She watched as Peter surrounded himself with disabled teenagers. He wasn’t even trying to get Saul to go to school. She talked to him about liability. She urged him to communicate with Valerie’s parents. She even gave him the directory of special schools from Sunset magazine. Finally she referred him to the best psychologist she and Sam had ever met. That almost worked. Peter liked Mary. At first Saul liked her; he saw her for two sessions and then he just stopped.