Laft-Handed Engineers From MARZ
Marlone comes to visit, part II
"S'all right if we take your car?" Jack asked.
"Er." Zephyr hesitated. If Reg drove them, that would leave his mother
alone in the house. If not, that would leave Marlone alone with Reg...
and Jack would have to drive the Buick. If he stayed, Jack would still
have the Buick, and in any case the chance to get away from his mother was
too irresistible. Zephyr only rarely wished he had learned to drive, but...
no, this wasn't one of those times. He just wanted his privacy back.
There was no reason not to trust Jack with the car, anyway. Zephyr really
needed to lighten up and stop getting bent out of shape over these unexpected
changes. So what if Jack was practically a stranger... married to his mother...
and didn't know the routine? Dammit, Marlone and Jack were breaking the
routine! Zephyr wondered why he was so upset by that. What did he care
about the routine? The routine was for Reg. But he did care about Reg.
And besides, they'd only be gone for ten minutes, tops. Not enough time
for any significant damage to be done. He'd seen his mother destroy things
he'd loved many times in the past, but not in ten minutes. And she was
different now. He'd have to trust her, and Jack as well. There was no
way around it.
"Sure. I'll get the keys."
Zephyr shuffled into the house and through the living room to the kitchen,
avoiding making eye contact with his mother. Neither Reg nor 3 had moved.
He heard Jack enter behind him and heard him speak to Marlone. He knew he
should say something to Reg... Reg really hated surprises... after grabbing
the keys, he sat beside Reg on the couch and whispered a brief explanation.
Then he opened the garage door and got into the passenger seat.
Jack hesitated by the driver's side door. "You want me to drive?" he asked
incredulously.
"I... don't have a license."
"Oh." Jack got in and took the keys from Zephyr. "Hey, if you ever want
some lessons or anything..."
"Nah, I'm all set."
Jack started the car and began to back it out of the garage. "You sure?
It's tough to get by these days without being able to drive."
Listen, Jack, I'm having enough trouble staying calm while sitting in
a moving vehicle. You have absolutely no idea. Let's not push it, huh?
Zephyr wasn't about to voice that thought out loud, however. "Turn left
out of the driveway," he said instead. "Take a right at the end of the street."
****
Marlone sat in the easy chair and stared at Reg. He wasn't being particularly
interesting. He just sat in the dead center of the couch, looking at nothing
and petting that cat over and over. The cat didn't move a lot, either.
Marlone considered turning on the television, but the presence of Reg prevented
her. He wasn't always quite this sedate, and Zephyr wasn't around to tell
her what kinds of things might upset him. She wondered if he'd continue
ignoring her if she went into the den.
She got up slowly, watching him. He didn't seem to notice. Encouraged,
she edged across the living room and into the den. Her suitcase was on the
far side of the room and she opened it, looking for something to read. Unfortunately,
she had left her book in the truck. She scanned the books along the shelves
in the den, but they all seemed dry and tedious. There wasn't a single novel
among them. How odd, Marlone thought, that her son didn't read fiction.
She hadn't known that about him.
Oh well, the only other option was to get her other bag out of the truck,
provided that Jack had left it unlocked. She walked through the living room...
and discovered that Reg was no longer there. The cat was in the kitchen,
but she didn't see Reg anywhere. If he'd wandered off somewhere and Zephyr
blamed her when he got home, he would get a piece of her mind. Marlone did
not come here to babysit her son's emotionally disturbed partner.
She gave up and went out to the truck. The driver's side door was wide
open, but she didn't feel like walking all the way around, so she opened
the passenger door.
"Oh!" Marlone shouted, startled. Reg lay on his side on the bench seat,
his head and hands under the dashboard. He was doing... something. Marlone
couldn't quite see what.
"Hey, you, get out of there," she told him nervously. "Hey. That's my
husband's truck. Get out. Reg... Reginald. Um."
She watched him shove some wires into, apparently, a hole under the dashboard,
and then heard something click. Then he sat up, still failing to acknowledge
her presence, and reached for the cigarette lighter. He tested it... and
it worked.
"Hey! You fixed the lighter! Great!" Marlone was suddenly reminded that
she hadn't had a smoke in a while, and started to crave one. She supposed
it was better to wait until Zephyr got home, just to make sure it was okay.
Reg turned the ignition key downward and played with the radio.
"You got the radio to work too?" Marlone exclaimed. She leaned into the
truck. "Try 101.3."
Reg turned the dial and found the station she had requested. It came in
clearly. Marlone smiled. Then she realized something: Reg had heard her
request. She had somehow communicated with him. Zephyr had told her repeatedly
that it was possible, that he was smarter than he seemed, but he had never
listened to her before. She had wondered sometimes whether Zephyr was lying,
or maybe Reg just singled her out for some reason.
"Want to go inside and try some of that fruit salad?" she asked tentatively.
Reg ignored her. Marlone frowned; maybe there really was something about
her that inspired Reg to be unresponsive. Her granddaughters certainly seemed
to have better luck reaching him.
("Wanna know the secret?" Tammy had inquired once as Marlone was tucking
the little girl into bed. "You gotta hold his hand. Then he can see you.
Don't tell no one, promise? It's a secret.")
Marlone eyed Reg thoughtfully. His grease-speckled hands moved nimbly as
he removed another section of the dash to expose more inner workings. She
certainly wouldn't feel comfortable touching him. Why was it such a big secret?
Just because it was weird, like everything else about Reg? "Why does Zephyr
even bother?" she asked aloud.
But as she looked at him, she started to imagine how vulnerable he must
be. Stuck in his own little world, unaware that at any moment some stranger
might grab him and force themselves into his perception... someone like
herself could just reach out and touch him on the arm, like this...
He jumped as if startled and froze. She froze too, her fingertips resting
on his arm. Then he turned to face her, and his eyes, usually so blank
and empty, met hers. Was it her imagination, or did he look... not sad,
more like melancholy. Maybe it was just because he wasn't smiling. She
noticed for the first time the color of his eyes... dark slate blue, bordering
on navy. He looked like he could see her, more aware - more sentient -
than he'd ever seemed before.
Tammy's little secret worked.
"Hi," Marlone said.
"No," Reg replied.
"No? Why?"
"Why?" Reg repeated.
Marlone giggled. "Why not?"
Reg looked at her. She removed her hand from his arm, and he still looked
at her.
"Guess I'd better let you get back to work," she said, backing out of the
truck. "You should finish up before Jack and Zephyr get back." She shut
the passenger door and treaded slowly to the front door. Reg never took
his eyes off her.
****
"Why," Reg said to himself as Zephyr's mother went back inside the house.
She was a very strange person, but she had given him a word he liked.
"Why."
Yes, it was a good word. It was her word. That was good.
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