-1-

Someone in my house is playing a live recording of Elton John. Loudly.

“Jonah, wake up !,” I hear Mom  call. She sounds close, probably at my door. “You’re going to be late.”

“It’s Saturday,” I remind her and put the covers over my head.

I hear her unlock her phone and the music from the speakers gets louder.

“Jonah Morrow, rise and shine,” she sings, shaking me.

I ignore her and put a pillow over my head.  Just when I think she’s going away I get sprayed in the face with ice cold water.

This jolts me awake.

I finally open my eyes.

It’s 7AM.

“Mom-,”

“You’re going to be late. The lines might be long,” she says, running her hands through my hair

Mom’s sitting on the corner of my bed wearing her Patriots pajamas underneath an expensive looking suit jacket. She’s twirling a spray bottle with ice cubes in it around her fingers. I forget she has an evil streak.

“What are you talking about ?,” I mumble, sitting up and  rubbing sleep (and water) out of my eyes.

“You’re taking Aris to that film festival to see the film on Morton Gates--” 

“Oh, Mom. No, I--” 

“Jonah, do you really think I’m going to let you two keep acting  like strangers ? Come on, you know he wants to go and well,  I want the house to myself. He’s already waiting.”

“Why can’t you take him ?,” I venture.

“I have to telework,” she says and adds “I love you, sweetie.”

“I know.” I say.

 Her laptop chimes form the living room and she springs out of my bed and  runs out the door.

“Mrs. Morrow.” I faintly hear her answer it.

Mom was still doing advising and conferences with her students overseas since they weren’t on break. Because of the time difference it meant she had to work from midnight until 7 or 8 in the morning.

I get up and take my time showering and getting dressed. I didn’t understand my parents. Mom leaves for France ,she and Dad barely acknowledge each other while she was away and yet know they are acting like nothing has ever happened.

We’d all gone out to dinner last night and after the “I’m disappointed in you” line they didn’t even mention Ethan’s situation.  After dinner, when we came back to the house, my parents finished a bottle of wine on the back porch and I could hear them laughing together.

When I finally get dressed,  Mom is curled up in a blanket asleep on the couch. Her laptop screensaver cycling through images of France. I  find Dad sitting on the front porch smoking and when he hears me he gets up to follow.

We were going to Eastland Row, a new commercial development just outside of Waverly.  The developers set up a multi-use promenade that prided itself on being, I guess hip or something. The promenade had art studio spaces, organic coffee shops, natural grocers and of course The Cameo, an art house theater.

-2-

The worst part about this trip is that the only reason I told Dad about the film was to save Ethan from Dad giving him a hard time. My brother is always getting the breaks.

I pull into a space in the crisp new parking lot and I can see a line is already forming at the Cameo box office, apparently one of the director’s showcasing during our film is a big deal at Boston University. 

“Jonah--” Dad calls when I’m a few steps away from the car.

He’s still standing by the car, folding up his cane and putting his Raybans with the blue frame on. They’re a bit much, but they're also my Mom’s favorite. I walk back to him and Dad reaches out and  takes my upper arm, holding it tightly.

My father’s lived in Waverly for over 30 years, so he can get around most places with no problem since he knows them from before he lost his vision. He had mastered telling traffic patterns at all the campus intersections by ear. It’s part of why he hates anything new they build, he won’t walk anywhere new to him or recently built unassisted. When we were younger, Ethan I used to fight over who got to help Dad on vacations.

I buy our tickets and we join the line, I can feel the eyes on us as we walk to the back of the line.  For some reason it baffled people that a blind person would want to go to a movie.  

I spot Corrine’s roommate at the front of the line.  And even though I’m still mad at her for her Open Mic Night, I wave. She waves back enthusiastically. I notice she has tickets for nearly all the films.

When we get to our place in line Dad loosens his grip on my arm, but he won’t let go. He lights a cigarette and even though I hate the smell, I like the little bit of warmth it gives us in the cold.

“Thank you for coming,“ he says softly and then even quieter. ”Jonah…I probably shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”

“It’s fine,” I say, because honestly I don’t really care anymore.

“No, it’s not. Your mother’s back and I just want us all to be all right. I want everything like it was before she left.”

“Me too.” 

I really want to ask him about my car. With Mom back, I don’t have a car anymore. I imagine we’d get some insurance money from the Prius.

“I love you.” He says, but it has Mom written all over it.  I’m really glad he can’t see me rolling my eyes.

“Yeah. Me too,” I say, giving the answer Mom probably told him he would get.

We’re quiet and out of nowhere Dad bursts into laughter so hard he starts coughing.

“Dad ?,” I say as he catches his breath.

“I just remembered something about this place,” he coughs, taking a long ironic inhale on the cigarette. “When I was a kid the only thing over here used to be Blitz, a night club.  When we were in high school your Uncle Sam wanted to see this band at Blitz and I took him.

 The show was amazing, we even went backstage and hung out with the band. But when we got back home he was so wasted and I was so strung out we just skipped school the next day. Well, your grandfather found out we’d skipped and he was waiting for us when we came back home. He was so pissed, he took off his belt and gave us the worse beatings of our life. I swear I though he was going to have a heart attack and die.”

He takes another long drag on his cigarette

“Dad, I’m too old for you to spank me.” I tell him dryly and he laughs again, it makes me laugh.

“You’re never too old for your father to kick your ass,” he says grabbing my shoulder lightly.

“You’d have to  find me first,” I remind him.

Suddenly, he throws both of his arms around me in a bear hug  and pulls them tight like he’s going to tackle me. I swing  to get out of his grip and he puts me in a headlock, I put a hand in his face and pull out of his grip. I  take his cigarette out of his hand, holding it to the ground. He starts reaching around for it and I’m  smiling so hard now my mouth hurts.

The other people in line hate us.

The old man is out of breath, so I give him the Pall Mall back and he puts his hand back around my arm.

“Jonah, I just  want you and Ethan to look out for each other,” he breaths. “And if you get mad at me I want you to talk to me, I’ve always let you boys be honest with me, I’m always honest with you. I always want to know what’s going on with you.”

“Sometimes, nothing is going on with me.” 

“I haven’t heard your violin,” he says quietly. “I miss that.”

“It’s cold,” I say. “When are they going to let us in ?”

“Did you quit ?,” he asks

“I’m taking a break,” I tell him. “I dropped Barrett’s class. Is that okay ?”

I expect some sort of scolding, but we’re silent for a while and  he just nods. Then Dad is talking about his new book. It actually sounds interesting, it’s about a woman who lives her life out of order and is trying to piece together some sort of tragedy that keeps redirecting her life. Dad says he doesn’t know what that tragedy is and how the timeline stuff is giving him a headache, but he wants to tell that story.

By the time the line starts moving, I’m not sure if I’m still angry with him. I’m more mildly annoyed, but also kind of glad we’re getting this time alone before going back to the state of noise and chaos Mom has surely thrown the house in.

The grad students who made the documentary, Gates Keepers stand up before the showing. The director is a smarmy looking 22-year-old wearing a tie-dye GAP hoodie under a suit jacket and jeans so tight they look like leggings.

 He talks about how the crew spent three months with  Morton Gates and his team of the editors at once prestigious magazine, The Bostonian. They were working on a   story Gates believed would win them their second Pulitzer Prize after 40 years and bring the magazine back. The article was about drug dealers in affluent Boston neighborhoods. It lost.

Most  student films suck.

But this one doesn’t.

Dad’s a fan of Gate’s and since the film is also about Gate’s past work, Dad whispers facts to me and even some of the things they get wrong. He can’t help himself. I can tell it’s annoying some people, but it’s always been funny to me how nobody will say anything to a blind man in a movie theatre.

And then it happens.

It’s barely a second on the screen, but my mind lights on fire and it takes all my willpower to stay in my seat.

I listen to Gates on the screen talking for the 30 second clip  and I commit every word he says to memory. I can’t even pay attention to the rest of the film because I’m putting it together. 

I know how Abigail died.

I know who killed her.

Or atleast I think I do.

I want to ask Tie-Dye Hoodie a question during the Q&A, but I was afraid Dad would ask questions if I did. When the Q&A was finally over, I guide Dad to the restroom and figured I had a 2-minute window before he notices I’m gone.

The director is still sitting in the theatre when I go back in and he fails to look humble as I come up to him.

“Excuse me,” I say. “Where can I find Morton Gates ?,”

----

A/N

Dun Dun DUN...there will be very few dun,dun,duns in V2 so I'm getting them out now.