go mad. What can I do? I take a deep breath. A second. Close my eyes. Fight for control. Breathe again. Clear my mind of thoughts.
Pathetic boy. You're no son of mine .
My lion roars within me. That old bastard. The truth of it was that I could achieve any office, could affect any change in this world, and he would still sneer at me and tell me I'm weak. He understands nothing but force.
Pathetic.
But I'm no longer a fifteen-year-old. I'm a mature man now. I'm tall and I'm strong and the lion within me, if I were to give him a moment to slip free, would be like a force of nature.
If I were to fight my father now, I know that I would crush him.
"Enough!" I have to get out. I have to get into the streets, amongst humans. In a crowd I'll find myself, my control, my center. I turn to go back upstairs, and then my phone vibrates on the couch. Myra?
No, it's Eric. I hesitate, agonize, and then pick it up. "Hello?"
"Boss, where've you been? I've been calling for hours."
"What's going on, Eric?" My voice is harsh, but I can't make myself sound civilized.
"Big news. It looks like the unions are abandoning Delray. Which means he's losing a huge source of funding. He'll have to pull down his advertising big time."
It's almost painful to think about politics. I pinch the bridge of my nose and force myself to focus. "And who are the unions going to?"
I can hear Eric's grin. "Well, that's the best part. They're split between Jacobson - and you."
"Me?" I stare sternly at the wall. "What?"
"I know! Your platform is being heard, boss. I'm telling you, you're striking a chord. You have to get back here, like, now. We can set up a meeting for first thing tomorrow. You have to get them before Jacobson does. With their funding, you'll go from being a long shot to a real contender."
Leave. Back to Boston.
"Boss?"
Drive home. Meet people. Shake hands. Stare them in the eyes and make promises. Offer them integrity.
"Boss? You there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. Listen, I'm going to have to call you back."
"Yeah, OK, but are you coming? Should I set up those meetings?"
I stop. I have to go back. I can't abandon my people. My dreams. My ambitions. I'm about to say yes when my phone vibrates. Another incoming call.
Myra Cole.
"Hold on one sec, Eric." I click over. "Hello?"
"Alex." Her voice is breathless, tense. "You need to come to Honeycomb Hall. Now."
"What? What's going on?"
"Do you trust me?"
I don't hesitate. "Yes. Of course."
"Then please come here. You need to hear something. Then you can do whatever you want. But please. Come here now."
I should say no. I should focus on the race. But who am I kidding? Her voice is bringing back all kinds of emotions. Standing there in my empty loft, I realize that those three hours with Myra were the first time in forever that my lion and I were one. That the walls between us had fallen, and I'd been a full, whole person again.
"OK. I'll be there in fifteen." I switch over to Eric. "Set up the meetings," I say. "I'll be there tomorrow morning."
"Good," says Eric. "I'll text you details."
I turn off the phone and stare at it. I'll go listen to Myra. See what she has to say. Maybe she's found an impossible solution. A way out of this ever-deepening labyrinth.
And if not? I'll harden my heart, drive back to Boston, and let the cards fall where they may.
Chapter 13
I sit in a rocking chair on Honeycomb Hall's porch and wait for Alexander to drive up. It's night, and the grounds recede into the darkness, extended rectangles of light splashing across the lawn from the few windows that are lit.
Silence. You don't get this kind of silence in Boston. Always there's some noise coming from somewhere, either someone's TV, a car driving by blasting music, distant police sirens, the sound of voices on the street, something. Here, there's an aching silence which slowly resolves itself into a more natural tapestry of sounds. The wind through the trees. The distant call of subtle night
Pathetic boy. You're no son of mine .
My lion roars within me. That old bastard. The truth of it was that I could achieve any office, could affect any change in this world, and he would still sneer at me and tell me I'm weak. He understands nothing but force.
Pathetic.
But I'm no longer a fifteen-year-old. I'm a mature man now. I'm tall and I'm strong and the lion within me, if I were to give him a moment to slip free, would be like a force of nature.
If I were to fight my father now, I know that I would crush him.
"Enough!" I have to get out. I have to get into the streets, amongst humans. In a crowd I'll find myself, my control, my center. I turn to go back upstairs, and then my phone vibrates on the couch. Myra?
No, it's Eric. I hesitate, agonize, and then pick it up. "Hello?"
"Boss, where've you been? I've been calling for hours."
"What's going on, Eric?" My voice is harsh, but I can't make myself sound civilized.
"Big news. It looks like the unions are abandoning Delray. Which means he's losing a huge source of funding. He'll have to pull down his advertising big time."
It's almost painful to think about politics. I pinch the bridge of my nose and force myself to focus. "And who are the unions going to?"
I can hear Eric's grin. "Well, that's the best part. They're split between Jacobson - and you."
"Me?" I stare sternly at the wall. "What?"
"I know! Your platform is being heard, boss. I'm telling you, you're striking a chord. You have to get back here, like, now. We can set up a meeting for first thing tomorrow. You have to get them before Jacobson does. With their funding, you'll go from being a long shot to a real contender."
Leave. Back to Boston.
"Boss?"
Drive home. Meet people. Shake hands. Stare them in the eyes and make promises. Offer them integrity.
"Boss? You there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. Listen, I'm going to have to call you back."
"Yeah, OK, but are you coming? Should I set up those meetings?"
I stop. I have to go back. I can't abandon my people. My dreams. My ambitions. I'm about to say yes when my phone vibrates. Another incoming call.
Myra Cole.
"Hold on one sec, Eric." I click over. "Hello?"
"Alex." Her voice is breathless, tense. "You need to come to Honeycomb Hall. Now."
"What? What's going on?"
"Do you trust me?"
I don't hesitate. "Yes. Of course."
"Then please come here. You need to hear something. Then you can do whatever you want. But please. Come here now."
I should say no. I should focus on the race. But who am I kidding? Her voice is bringing back all kinds of emotions. Standing there in my empty loft, I realize that those three hours with Myra were the first time in forever that my lion and I were one. That the walls between us had fallen, and I'd been a full, whole person again.
"OK. I'll be there in fifteen." I switch over to Eric. "Set up the meetings," I say. "I'll be there tomorrow morning."
"Good," says Eric. "I'll text you details."
I turn off the phone and stare at it. I'll go listen to Myra. See what she has to say. Maybe she's found an impossible solution. A way out of this ever-deepening labyrinth.
And if not? I'll harden my heart, drive back to Boston, and let the cards fall where they may.
Chapter 13
I sit in a rocking chair on Honeycomb Hall's porch and wait for Alexander to drive up. It's night, and the grounds recede into the darkness, extended rectangles of light splashing across the lawn from the few windows that are lit.
Silence. You don't get this kind of silence in Boston. Always there's some noise coming from somewhere, either someone's TV, a car driving by blasting music, distant police sirens, the sound of voices on the street, something. Here, there's an aching silence which slowly resolves itself into a more natural tapestry of sounds. The wind through the trees. The distant call of subtle night
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