“Stacy—”
“Words,” she said. “They sound nice.”
“They’re true, Stacy.”
“I wish. . . . Things will be better?” More need than challenge.
“Yes,” I said. Lord help me.
New kind of smile. “I’m definitely not going to Stan-
ford. I have to find my own place. . . . Thank you, Dr. Delaware, this has been—”
Her words were cut off by sounds from below.
From the front of the house, loud enough to filter upstairs and through the door to her bedroom. Screams and percussion, frantic footsteps, more screams—bellows.
The pretty music of shattering glass.
CHAPTER 28
I RAN OUT, rushed down the stairs, followed the noise.
The living room. Figures in black.
Two figures, crouched combatively.
Richard shouted, “What the fuck have you done?” and advanced on his son.
Eric waved a baseball bat.
Behind the boy stood what remained of the display cases. Ravaged, the brass dented, glass doors splintered and ragged. Glass spikes and shards on the carpet, glittery dust like raw diamonds. Broken pottery within the cases and on the floor. Horses and camels and little human figurines turned to rubble.
Richard got closer. His mouth was open. His breath rasped.
Eric panted also. He gripped the bat with both hands. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Put it down!” Richard commanded.
Eric didn’t move.
“Put it the fuck down!”
Eric laughed and took another swing at the porcelain. Richard rushed forward, threw himself at the bat, managed to get hold of it as Eric grunted and struggled to wrestle control.
The two of them fell to the floor, entwined black clothes coating with glass and dust. I dived in, mindful of the bat, aiming for the bat. Reaching it, feeling hardwood, sweaty and gritty, the crunch underneath as fragments bit into my knees. I tugged at the bat. Some give, then resistance. A fist landed on my jaw but I kept my grip.
Eric and Richard kept growling and spitting, flailing at each other, me, anyone, anything.
Another pair of hands entered the fray.
“Stop!”
I extricated myself. Joe Safer stood there, hands pressed to his cheeks, eyes aflame. Eric and Richard were concentrating on ownership of the bat. “Stop, you idiots, or I’m walking out permanently and leaving you all to your misery!”
Richard stopped first. Eric kept growling but his hands loosened, and Safer and I both rushed forward and pulled the bat away from him.
Richard sat down on the floor, letting the ruins of his collection fall through his fingers. He looked stunned— anesthetized. Tiny cuts flecked his face and his hands, one eye was swollen. A few feet away, Eric was down on his knees, looking out at nothing. Other than a split lip, he showed no obvious injury. My jaw was throbbing and I touched it. Hot, starting to swell, but I could move it, nothing broken.
“For God’s sake,” said Safer. “Look what you’ve done to the doctor. What’s the matter with you people? Are you savages?”
Eric smiled. “We’re the elite. Pathetic, huh?”
Safer pointed a finger at him. “You be quiet, my friend. You keep that mouth of yours shut—don’t you dare interrupt me—”
“Why should—”
“Eh-eh, don’t test me, young man. One more problem and I’m calling the police and having you hauled into jail. And I can keep you there, you’d better believe I can.”
“Who ca— ”
“You’ll care. Within an hour you’ll be anally raped and worse. Now zip the lip!”
Eric’s hands began to shake. He glanced at the havoc he’d created. Smiled. Started to cry.
No one talked. Safer took in the ruin and shook his head.
“I’m so sorry,” he said to me. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Eric,” Richard pleaded. “Why? What have I done to you?”
Eric looked at Safer, requesting permission to talk. Safer said, “Why, indeed, Eric?”
Eric faced Richard. Mumbled something.
“What? “said Richard.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry,” Richard echoed. “That’s it?”
Louder mumble.
“Speak up, for God’s sake,” said Richard. “What the hell led you to …” He shook his head, let it drop.
“Sorry, Daddy,” said Eric. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
Eric began to sob. Richard moved to comfort him, thought better of it, plopped back down.