Ten Thousand Saints Page 0,143

his sister. One of the cats—Tarzan—mashed his face into Jude’s shin.

“Yeah, it was really lonely not having someone trying to run my life all the time.”

“Are you still smoking?” Jude handed her a plate.

“Just crack. And just when I’m drinking.”

“Clearly you need my male influence.”

“I’ve got Bob,” Prudence said.

“What’s Bob going to do? Hypnotize you?”

“Mom said it really works. He’s got her down to like half a pack a day.”

Jude submerged his hands in the suds. Maybe his mom would be okay without him. She had Bob now.

“Pru, what if I stayed in New York?”

“With Dad?”

“Want to come with?” He lifted his hands out of the water, scrubbing another plate. He rinsed it and handed it over. “Give him a chance. Let him spend lots of money on you trying to buy back your love.”

“Are you taking the cats?”

“I think the cats are staying put.”

Prudence polished the plate with the tattered dishrag. Jude held another dripping plate while she placed it on the rack. “Maybe I’d visit,” she said.

“You could take the train,” said Jude.

After Bob had gone home and Harriet and Prudence had gone to bed, Jude unlocked the greenhouse with the key his mother kept in the fake rock in her garden. This was the darkened scene Tory had entered when he’d broken in, and Jude felt his ghost, still fresh, as well as Les’s. Along with the sear of Harriet’s burnt glass, the place smelled faintly of his pot. The old sleeping bag, in which Jude had received the news of his adoption, happened to be sitting in the lap of the rocking chair from which Les had delivered it. Jude lifted it—army green, hugged by a bungee cord—and sank his chin into its center.

“Can people see in here?” Eliza asked, pointing up to the painted glass ceiling.

“Just the lights,” Jude said, but he didn’t want his mother to see even that. He locked the door. With his flashlight, he found the melted stump of a candle and lit it.

Eliza walked over to one of the fish tanks that housed Harriet’s glass. She took out a bong and pretended to hit it. “Mmm,” she said, blowing out a mouthful of imaginary smoke.

“Funny,” said Jude.

He slid the old mattress leaning against the wall onto the floor, then uncoiled the sleeping bag, unzipped it, and spread it open across their bed. He felt dizzy, as though he were made of a gas. He pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it in the rocking chair, and lay down. Eliza followed him, coming down knee by knee, then hand by hand. They lay on their backs, side by side.

“We’re like old people,” Jude said.

“I feel all googly from that hypnosis stuff.”

“Googly?”

“Like, relaxed.”

He reached for her hand and fit it in his. The candle puddled a yellow light across the floor, over their legs. He couldn’t see anything beyond the painted glass ceiling, but he could imagine the stars coming out on the other side, bright as they were only here, millions of miles from any city.

“Is she going to hate me?” she asked.

They stared up at the underbelly of the roof, dark as a womb.

“Who?”

“Annabel.”

Jude closed his eyes. He thought of all the people who had done this before him, lain beside another body, seeking its warmth, like the two figures in the diagram his mother had drawn for him years ago. Queen Bea and Ravi, Harriet and Les, Johnny and Rooster. His unnamed mother and unnamed father in some unnamed room. Eliza and Teddy. If this was the crime they’d committed, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. This was forgivable.

“No,” he said, opening his eyes. “She’s just going to miss you.”

There were no eyes upon them. They were alone. He leaned on an elbow, close enough to kiss her, and then he did. He put his hand on the nape of her naked head. She did the same. Outside, the crickets pulsed.

“Is this why you brought me back to Vermont?” she asked. “So you could take advantage of me in the bong house?”

“It was my master plan.”

They kissed again. His fingers tangled in the bow of her bikini top. His hands were shaking. He leaned closer. His weight pressed over hers. Her dress was soggy with sweat. Or lake water. Or maybe something else. He didn’t care.

“Hold on,” she said.

“What?”

“My back.”

She struggled to sit up. He sat up with her. She was frozen for a few seconds, her legs straight in front of her.

“You okay?”

“I’m not supposed