Boston.
They tramped up the stairs, through the bedroom, turning on lights as they went, and Will led him out on the small deck.
“Wow,” John said.
It was a “wow” view. This side of Liberty Hill was high enough that they could see over the rooftops of the townhouses across the street and into downtown. Directly in front was a vacant lot, enhancing the vista. The air had turned cool and the skyscrapers floated in the liquid black sky above the trees. The city brooded around them on its hills and inside its ravines beneath the green abundance of the changing season. The Queen City of the West, but the West had moved on. It was still a beauty. The night was quiet except for the steady distant rumble of Interstate 71.
Will set his cane against the railing and eased into one of the two chairs. The weight of the day was full on him now and he had been looking forward to the chance to actually sleep tonight. It would be a rarity. At the moment, he didn’t know if he could even get up again.
“How do you handle it down here?”
Will sipped his beer. “I like it.”
“The riots were right over there. And all the blacks…”
“Oh, John, there’s all sorts of people in this neighborhood. You weren’t raised that way, and as I recall you didn’t like it out in the suburbs.” He took a deeper pull of the Christian Moerlein. “So are you going back to Portland after the summer?”
John said he didn’t know if he would return. He had liked the city but thought college was boring. Will might not have been his real father but he couldn’t stop worrying about this baby who had become a man in the quick-time that was the dark gift of getting older. He had been such a sweet little boy. Then adolescence, and they had lost him. He was aimless and angry, an indifferent student except for music and art classes. This, even though Will and Cindy had skimped to put him in a good high school before Cindy started to make real money at the bank. Will blamed himself. Cindy was gone more and more with work. Some of her positions required travel, and then there were her serial affairs. Will should have done more, but he, too, worked long hours on homicide. John had often been left to raise himself.
“There are good schools here, too,” Will said.
“I hate Cincinnati.”
“Miami’s right up the road. Live on campus. You’d never know Cincinnati existed.”
“Still pimping for your alma mater. You went there with all those preppy snots and became a cop. How the hell did that happen, man?”
Will laughed and John did, too, stretching out his legs and relaxing a bit. Will thought about offering some fatherly advice about college and careers. He wanted to ask about his friends and find out what his plans were, but he thought better of it. He was grateful for the company, and had been the designated bad guy in John’s life for so long that he didn’t want to spoil the moment.
“I’ve partied up there,” John said. “But the kids are so stuck up.”
Will knew that could be true at one of Ohio’s “Public Ivies.” Time to change the subject.
“Those are nice shoes.”
“You think so?” John said. “I bought ’em in Portland. They’re called Drainmakers.” He pointed to the lime green soles.
“How are you?” John asked.
“I’m okay. It’s been a long day.”
“But the cancer’s gone, right?”
Will wearied of explaining the betrayal his body had carried out a few months after he turned forty-one. The doctors had discovered a tumor inside his spinal cord. It was a very rare condition. Luckily it had not been cancerous. They called it “malignant by location”: it would have left him paralyzed. Fortunately, they seem to have gotten it all. He ran through it for John patiently. There was no reason to expect Cindy would have told John the details.
“So it won’t come back, right?”
“Unfortunately, there’s no guarantee of that. Every day’s a gift.”
“You’ve turned into one mellow
They tramped up the stairs, through the bedroom, turning on lights as they went, and Will led him out on the small deck.
“Wow,” John said.
It was a “wow” view. This side of Liberty Hill was high enough that they could see over the rooftops of the townhouses across the street and into downtown. Directly in front was a vacant lot, enhancing the vista. The air had turned cool and the skyscrapers floated in the liquid black sky above the trees. The city brooded around them on its hills and inside its ravines beneath the green abundance of the changing season. The Queen City of the West, but the West had moved on. It was still a beauty. The night was quiet except for the steady distant rumble of Interstate 71.
Will set his cane against the railing and eased into one of the two chairs. The weight of the day was full on him now and he had been looking forward to the chance to actually sleep tonight. It would be a rarity. At the moment, he didn’t know if he could even get up again.
“How do you handle it down here?”
Will sipped his beer. “I like it.”
“The riots were right over there. And all the blacks…”
“Oh, John, there’s all sorts of people in this neighborhood. You weren’t raised that way, and as I recall you didn’t like it out in the suburbs.” He took a deeper pull of the Christian Moerlein. “So are you going back to Portland after the summer?”
John said he didn’t know if he would return. He had liked the city but thought college was boring. Will might not have been his real father but he couldn’t stop worrying about this baby who had become a man in the quick-time that was the dark gift of getting older. He had been such a sweet little boy. Then adolescence, and they had lost him. He was aimless and angry, an indifferent student except for music and art classes. This, even though Will and Cindy had skimped to put him in a good high school before Cindy started to make real money at the bank. Will blamed himself. Cindy was gone more and more with work. Some of her positions required travel, and then there were her serial affairs. Will should have done more, but he, too, worked long hours on homicide. John had often been left to raise himself.
“There are good schools here, too,” Will said.
“I hate Cincinnati.”
“Miami’s right up the road. Live on campus. You’d never know Cincinnati existed.”
“Still pimping for your alma mater. You went there with all those preppy snots and became a cop. How the hell did that happen, man?”
Will laughed and John did, too, stretching out his legs and relaxing a bit. Will thought about offering some fatherly advice about college and careers. He wanted to ask about his friends and find out what his plans were, but he thought better of it. He was grateful for the company, and had been the designated bad guy in John’s life for so long that he didn’t want to spoil the moment.
“I’ve partied up there,” John said. “But the kids are so stuck up.”
Will knew that could be true at one of Ohio’s “Public Ivies.” Time to change the subject.
“Those are nice shoes.”
“You think so?” John said. “I bought ’em in Portland. They’re called Drainmakers.” He pointed to the lime green soles.
“How are you?” John asked.
“I’m okay. It’s been a long day.”
“But the cancer’s gone, right?”
Will wearied of explaining the betrayal his body had carried out a few months after he turned forty-one. The doctors had discovered a tumor inside his spinal cord. It was a very rare condition. Luckily it had not been cancerous. They called it “malignant by location”: it would have left him paralyzed. Fortunately, they seem to have gotten it all. He ran through it for John patiently. There was no reason to expect Cindy would have told John the details.
“So it won’t come back, right?”
“Unfortunately, there’s no guarantee of that. Every day’s a gift.”
“You’ve turned into one mellow
Similar Books
