The Work Is Innocent by Rafael Yglesias Page B

would look at the situation: they would be stuck in a chaotic house, the downstairs having heat put in, the upstairs being built. On top of that there would be no place to put the furniture they were moving until Hickle’s men were finished. His father would be unable to write in peace.
    So, just before his parents’ arrival, they worked hard at cleaning things up. Richard was convinced that the beauty of John’s work would reconcile them to waiting for it. The heating would be done in a few days, and surely his mother would appreciate that the rooms were neat and clean.
    He was stunned by their reaction. Silently, his mother giving him significant looks, they toured the grounds with a knack for finding flaws. John had driven his truck on the lawn just before winter and deep tracks were molded into the ground. It had never occurred to Richard that this might be serious, but his father’s color changed and, though John’s assurance that it would be gone by summer was sufficient for Richard, his father was unimpressed. The barn wasn’t in order, his father said. Richard was enraged. He said it was cleaner than when they left. Betty stopped a fight between them by saying sweetly to Richard, “You had it beautifully done during Christmas.” Richard explained loudly, while his father walked away, that cutting wood for heat tended to mess things up. John seemed unaware of Betty’s and Aaron’s hostility. They looked at the attic and muttered something about it being nice. Richard was appalled that they could begrudge John a compliment.
    The next month was suffocating. Aaron went about with a severe frown. He worked all day, was silent during meals, and read each evening without responding to questions. Betty’s tone of voice had a familiar meekness to it—as if anything harder might trigger an explosion. John bluffed cheerfulness so well that Richard believed he was oblivious to his parents’ behavior.
    After Aaron and Betty would retire to their bedroom, Richard would go upstairs and talk with John while he painted the plasterboards he had placed between each beam. Richard repeated the stories about his father, with John glancing down from the ladder wearing a self-conscious smile. They both knew Aaron could hear him. Richard called Aaron egotistical and said that his taunting of Naomi had destroyed her self- confidence. John disagreed very mildly but Richard would insist. “You don’t know some of the stuff that would go on. Like when we were in the Hamptons and she was hitchhiking across the country. You know Naomi, she hadn’t shaved her legs and underarms, so when she came down to dinner after a shower he said, ‘You see. A shower and a shave and you’re fine.’ ”
    John nodded his head and went on painting. Richard enumerated the times Aaron had hit him, how Leo had screamed hysterically while he was doing so. Richard’s tirade shifted to his brother: how Leo had never confronted Aaron as he and Naomi had; that this had marked him for life as a compromising weakling, untrustworthy, and repellent. It was an uncontrollable vomiting that he recognized as foolish and wrong. Somewhere in the middle of his attacks on the family, he would realize that John was embarrassed and Richard would try to make it seem like a joke.
    Finally John opened up. He laughed scornfully as Richard started in on his father. Richard stopped and said, “What are you laughing about?”
    “Listen, it isn’t so bad between you and Aaron. You should be more cool about it. You know?” He added the question softly and saw the shock on Richard’s face. “Aaron’s a powerful man. I respect him. He doesn’t fuck around.”
    “That’s true,” Richard said with exaggerated bitterness.
    “He’s on my back. Not yours.”
    “Oh,” Richard said knowingly. “So you do see that?”
    “Are you serious? He’s livid.” John laughed, his voice rich and appealing. “He’s wacko about his own life. We all are. But he lets it out and