An American Family: The Baby With the Curious Markings by Harry Crews

Author:Harry Crews [Crews, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780940941014
Google: VKxmAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0940941015
Publisher: Graham
Published: 2006-05-02T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Major had been exhausted and he slept soundly. When he opened his eyes he thought he was still asleep and dreaming because Pete’s enormous father was sitting there looking at him. From somewhere deeper in the house Major could hear the vacuum cleaner running. Over the sound of the vacuum was Nicky’s unmistakable voice singing the lullaby that she was convinced was the baby’s favorite. Mr. Zack’s hard face was without expression and Major felt pinned to the pillow by the stare of his intense blue eyes.

“You wouldn’t want to get off my fucking bed would you?”

“Son, seems like it’s somebody else’s … fucking … bed now.”

“Why, you old prick.”

“I am that, right enough. Don’t much like it, but that’s the truth of it.”

“How many people did your dogs kill?”

“You read the newspapers. You know better than that.”

“Yeah, I do know better than that. And it looks like a jury of your peers maybe sending you to your just reward.”

“Jury of my peers? I don’t have any peers.”

“All right, screw all that. I don’t want to talk about it anyway. Especially I don’t want to talk to you about it. What’s going on here in my house, now there’s something we can talk about.”

“I can tell you what your wife says.”

“And what does she say?”

“Says you’re being socialized.”

“Is that what she says? You seem to know everything. Is that her lovely voice doing the lullaby while she vacuums?”

“Half right. Nicky’s singing. But that’s the Jap vacuuming. I don’t really know him, the Jap I mean. He belongs to her. In a manner of speaking.”

Major turned his head slightly toward something he could almost hear, but not really enough to say what it was. What was it? He looked again at Mr. Zack, dead into those intense, terrible blue eyes.

“Is that a … some kind of drum?”

“Didn’t you,” asked Mr. Zack, “Didn’t you ever hear Pete on the bongos?”

“Jesus Christ,” Major said.

“No, not yet,” said Mr. Zack. He laughed. “But then all things are possible. If we could socialize a pit bull dog, and God knows we’ve not succeeded yet, but if we could, might there not be hope for … well, for you?” He laughed again and stood up from where he was seated on the bed. “Surely you have to agree that makes sense.”

Major was off the bed now. The two men faced each other, rather like two dogs pitted to fight.

“I don’t have to agree that anything makes sense.” He wanted to add: Because nothing does. Instead he gave voice to a thought that had been recurring over and over. “Where is my son?”

“Oh come now, Major, surely you’ve figured that out by now.”

“Figured what out?”

“You have no son.”

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