Insania et Ignis

MICHAEL:

Dad and me keep working, even though it's Friday. Kelly's taking the same psych class as me, she says she's gonna write her paper and get it out of the way so she can enjoy the rest of the weekend.

Me, I'll probably do mine Sunday night. Late.

The prof left, said he had to clean up the house for Juliet to come home. My ass. Their place NEVER gets messy. I mean, his place never got messed up when it was just him there, and I don't know many guys that can say that.

Me and Dad sure can't. We're pretty bad.

I did get Dad a gift I think he'll like. He likes this sci-fi show on TV called 'The X-Files.' Which is really weird, because Dad's not usually into sci-fi, but he seems to like the relationship of the main characters. Likes the way they interact. So I got him the sets.

I mean, if I got him those OTHER videos, he'd shit.

Miranda, queen of the mall, said it was a good pick. Kelly thought he'd like them. Langly and the prof said cool.

Langly cruises out while me and Dad are having at it. I'm really trying to show him I can do the job. I'm not a loser, he can trust me.

Langly looks so damn down. I mean, talk about a candidate for Prozac.

But none of us use that kind of stuff, because it's like opium. That's the idea behind it. Drug the masses, make 'em think they're happy.

He asks Dad what needs doing, and he's like so lackluster. That's not Langly. I mean, Langly can be a pisser, but he's not a dragger.

Dad asks if he's okay. He just kind of shrugs.

Dad says he's gotta pack up and head home, Les should be there by midnight, the place is a dump.

No kidding.

But I did change the sheets before I left.

So give me snaps for that.

I keep typing. Langly's just sort of staring off into space.

"How's Ally?" I ask.

He shrugs again. "About the same. Doesn't feel so great. She's asleep. She said she had a backache and wanted a backrub, that was about it."

"It's kinda weird seeing Ally so...lying around. She's not like that."

"Tell me about it. She says she should be better after the first three months."

"She's how far along?"

"About seven weeks."

"That means you got at least another five."

"Yeah. It's like, it's so weird to say it...but I miss her."

"Doesn't sound weird to me. It's like she's gotta pour everything into having this kid, she's sort of out of it to the rest of us." I look up from what I'm typing. Langly just looks like...

"Hey, Langly, you still want this kid, don't you?"

"Yeah. I do. I just...wish it wasn't so hard." He's holding his chin in his hands.

"Hey, Langly? You feel like shooting some pool?" I mean, I doubt he'll go...he probably won't want to leave Ally, but it seems like it might be something I could do.

So I'm sort of surprised when he says, okay.

I mean, I'm surprised for two reasons. One, I figured he wouldn't want to leave Ally alone. Two, usually when you ask him, he's like, you must feel like losing tonight or something real cocky.

This is weird.

"So like get your cue, dude. Let's go."

"Okay."

Like this is the first time he had to be asked twice.
 

We drive up to Mitch's-Langly drives, his car's not fucking up the way mine is. Now I know why I got it for a buck.

I tell him this, he laughs, just a little.

It's a nice night. Good weather. Clear skies, when you get out in the sticks by Mitch's you can see some stars. I like looking at the stars. Hard to believe I started liking it when I took astronomy.

I guess every once in a while, you get something out of school other than a grade.

And it's Friday night, so it's crowded, we gotta wait for a table. Mitch is at the bar, asks how it's going, takes one look at Langly, and passes us two brews, no charge.

"You need it, you asshole," he tells Langly.

"How long for a table?"

"Well...you was anyone else, an hour...for this sorry-looking bastard, I'll see what I can do."

Fifteen minutes later, we get a table.

And I'm clobbering him. I mean, I like clobbering Langly's ass-but only if he's really playing.

Beating him like this, it's like no fun at all.

"You know, dude, we don't have to stay if you don't want to," I tell him.

"Nah, it's cool." He shoots a real lame shot.

"No, fuckrag, it's not cool. You're like so dead."

He looks at me, those light blue eyes get big and sad behind the glasses. "Damn right."

"Hard without Joan, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"My sister's coming tonight. With her-significant other, would you call it?"

"How you getting on with her?"

"Okay. I mean, I still think she's a bitch."

"And she probably still thinks you're a jerk."

"No doubt."

"So why aren't you home, Junior?"

"'Cause she's not coming till late, and Dad's cleaning the apartment."

"So why aren't you helping him?"

"'Cause I was working."

"So was he."

"Look, fuckrag, you gonna give me a hard time, or do you wanna play pool? Your choice." I'm gettting annoyed. "Thought you might want someone around right now."

He kind of winces. "Sorry, Junior. Just not myself these days."

"Yeah, I'll say. I mean, you're really doing some weird stuff, Langly. I mean, you keep calling the office and asking for Ringo Langly-"

"Excuse me, Junior, I know I'm a fucking mess, but I did NOT do that!"

"You did, too. Voice was yours."

"Not a fucking chance. You wanna check my call logs at work, go right ahead. Be my guest. But I'm not that far over the edge, you fuckface."

He's pissed. He must really be losing it.

"Swear, Langly, we got it on tape."

"We got everyone on tape. It's what we DO, fuckrag!"

"Langly, it's your voice. Swear to God."

"No way, asshole."

"It's you, dude."

"Nope."

"Prove it."

"You can't."

"Can too."

He's really mad now. "Look, fuckrag, I did NOT call the office, I did NOT ask for me, and while I might be a walking disaster, I'm not that far out of it!"

"So who is it, then, asshole? I mean, you call up, you ask for Ringo Langly, we say he's not available, he says thank you. Every time."

"Didn't you try tracing the call, asshole?"

"Sure we did. Can't do it. Goes through someplace in the Caribbean. Figured it had to be you. Don't they like reroute your calls?"

"Not through the fucking Caribbean, you moron!"

"So where, then?"

"Fuck you, Junior."

"My dad's worried about you."

"Your dad's been worried about me since he met me."

"Yeah, but now he's real worried."

He leans on his cue stick. He looks real tired. "Look, Junior, let's get a few things straight. I feel like shit. My sister is dead, my wife's having a bad pregnancy, I've got the boss from hell. No, I don't feel so great, thank you very much! On the other hand, I'm not totally out of my mind, least not anymore than I usually am, which I have to be to hang out with you!"

He shakes his head. "Sorry, Junior. I don't wanna play anymore. Can we just go home?"

"Sure."

So instead of cheering him up, I manage to get myself totally depressed.
 

He doesn't say a damn word till we get to the bridge into Virginia.

"Junior. I wanna hear these tapes."

"You just said you weren't doing it."

"I'm NOT doing it, fuckrag! I wanna know who is!"

"Maybe one of your coworkers can do you real good."

"They don't have my office number. They don't know about my...other job. We're not that close. And we're not gonna be. I like 'em for work friends, but I don't trust 'em that much."

"They could probably figure it out...just like you got the dirt on them."

"Maybe. Don't think so."

"What makes you think?"

"'Cause I'm better than all of 'em, that's the truth. I'm not trying to brag over it."

"Sure you are, Langly. Why else would you tell me?"

"Like you never go on about how cool you are."

"I don't."

"Like hell you don't. Tell me you don't gloat when you can show us some trick you know."

"Hey, I was trying to help!"

"Uh-huh. Like you helped me a lot when you got into the database at Fort D. Oh yeah. Now I keep wondering."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? Sorry I said anything. I mean, you want me to apologize for being born, too?"

"Oh, fuck off, Junior!"

"No, you fuck off! Look, dude, I am real sorry things suck for you. I really am. I asked you to come out so maybe you'd stop feeling so lousy for a couple hours. Didn't know what the fuck else to do. Sorry it didn't work."

I actually got him silenced there.

We're almost back at the offices when he says, "Look, Junior, I'm sorry. I'm a mess. I totally suck. I know it. I'm just a lousy human being right now. I'm not trying to be, okay? And anyway, thanks for asking. I mean, I know I'm lousy company...so it was cool of you to try, okay?"

"Okay."

"Anyway, maybe I am losing it...I wanna hear these tapes you're talking about. This voice."

"Whatever."
 

The calls started coming about five days after Joan died. There's been like one or two each day, most days. I play them back.

Sure as fucking hell sounds like Langly to me.

Apparently he thinks so, too. Because he's like this ghost after I play like six messages.

They're always the same. Times change on them, but the voice, the message, always the same.

And all the traces, they don't come up the same on any of them.

I mean, maybe it's not Langly.

"Maybe I really am losing it, Junior."

"Either that, or somebody does you real good."

"I dunno. I keep thinking, only one who maybe could would be Goldie...but even though he's a fuckrag, he's a pretty cool fuckrag. He wouldn't fuck with my head like that."

"Never know." I still think Langly's gone over the edge.

So does my dad.

He looks real upset now. "I dunno...maybe I oughta see a shrink? I mean, if I did this, I don't remember it...and I remember stuff. I mean, I know what I'm doing most times. I just don't like doing it very much these days. But this...oh man..."

Loud bang at the door. I check the video monitor.

Kelly and Miranda.

"Michael, Langly are you in there?" Kelly sounds a little worried.

"Open the fucking door!" Miranda, on the other hand, is hysterical.

I undo the locks and let them in. "What's up, ladies?"

Kelly looks around. "Oh, thank God, Langly, you're here. You need to get inside right now."

"What the-"

"Mom's losing the baby," Miranda says.

"How the fuck would you know?" Langly sounds real mad at her.

"'Cause she knows it, and she says so!" Miranda's almost crying now.

We race in the house.

Hope I remembered to set the security code.

Miscarriage or not, Dad will kill me if I don't.
 

Langly races in their room, where Ally is, and he shuts the door, won't let us in.

Kelly and the princess and me sit in the living room.

"She's really upset," Kelly says softly.

"Hell, yes, she's upset. Wouldn't you be?" Miranda can sound so hard, so bitter.

"Yeah, guess I would." I say this, real quiet.

No noise. I can hear Ally sobbing, but nothing else. And even that's real muted.

I expect Princess Miranda to be gloating about now, but she just looks bummed.

Not like any princess I know.

"Mom really wanted this baby," she says in a real soft, sad voice.

"So'd Langly," I remind her.

"I know." She looks kind of guilty. "I feel almost like I brought bad karma on them-"

Kelly shakes her head. Kelly, the practical scientist. "Miranda, you know your mom's had a hard time having kids before. Nothing you said or did would have changed that."

"Yeah, I know...but I was like so mad when she did this...and now I'm sorry...I love my mom...and Langly."

We're surprised to hear her admit this. Surprised as hell.

For a moment, we get a taste of the old Miranda, though.

"And if you tell him, I will deny everything, and I will kill you, too."

Kelly and I both laugh. That sounds like the princess we know.

"They're gonna be so bummed. Like they're not bummed out enough already." She puts her chin on her knees, like Langly does when he's bummed. "It's like, it's so hard...I miss my aunt Joan...and they miss her...and at least they could look forward to their baby...but now they can't...I feel so bad what I said to my mommy when she told me she was pregnant."

"What'd you say?" I ask.

"I said, won't happen."

"Looks like you were right."

"Yeah. I was right, all right. If I was right, how come I feel so bad then?"

"Miranda, you had no way to know," Kelly's trying to soothe her.

This makes Miranda throw her head up, hard. "Yes, I did know! I knew it! I told her! I shouldn't have told her! Then maybe she wouldn't have felt so bad-"

"Miranda, your mom's not used to having to lie around all the time...don't you think that could make her feel bad?" I like this about Kelly. She's like grounded in reality.

"I just hurt her so bad when I said that. I know I did." She starts to cry.

Seeing Miranda cry is weird. And unnerving.

Kelly and me sit on each side of her, and pat her on the back, trying to calm her down.
 

LANGLY:

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse...

It gets worse.

Maybe she's wrong.

She's lying in my arms, crying her head off. She says she's bleeding. And she know what that means.

I tell her I'm taking her to the hospital. She doesn't want to go, but she says okay. She wants me not to leave her. She's worried about Miranda.

And about me. It's all over her face.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it'll stop and things will be okay and she'll be fine in the morning...

This can't be happening.

No way.

It's almost Father's Day.
 

MICHAEL:

Langly's carrying Ally. She's not heavy, but I bet she weighs more than a loaf of bread, or even a sack of potatoes.

He asks Miranda what she wants to do. Miranda says she'll go if her mom wants. Her mom tells her maybe she better stay with Kelly.

Kelly sits with her, just talking to her about things that are real. Like how her it was her mom's medical problems that made this happen, not anything Miranda could have said or done. And how sometimes things go wrong even when no one has a clue why. She tells Miranda they get people in their clinic, it's like they can't figure out anything that's wrong, but they still can't have kids.

"We call them GOKs," Kelly tells her.

"What's that?"

"God Only Knows."

"If you believe in that sort of thing," Miranda says.

"Do you?"

Miranda shakes her head. "Used to. Like when I went to Hebrew school and prepared for my Bat Mitzvah, yeah. But then, after my Bat Mitzvah, everything changed. Everything. Now I don't know. I think if there is a god, he doesn't give a shit about us. That's what I think. Why would he do all this stuff? Or let it happen, anyway? Why would he take my daddy? Why would he hurt my aunt Lydia? Why did he let my aunt Joan die? Why would he take my mom's baby?" Her voice gets harder, more bitter, with each word.

"Maybe your mom's baby is gonna be okay," I say, kind of hopelessly.

Kelly looks at me, clear blue eyes direct at me. She just shakes her head.

She sees more of this than I do, so she knows.

I need to call my dad.
 

"Leslie?" My dad picks up the phone on the first ring.

"No, it's your useless son."

"Useless son? Oh yes, that one."

"Very funny, Dad. But actually, not so funny. Did Langly call you?"

"No. Why?"

"Ally looks like she's not gonna be pregnant much longer."

"Oh dear God. Was she bleeding?"

"Yeah, I think so." I cover the receiver, ask Kelly.

Kelly nods yes.

"Yeah, Kelly says she was."

"Oh God no." I hear my dad suck in his breath. "Michael, I need to be here when Leslie comes...but when she gets here..."

"Maybe we just oughta leave 'em alone tonight."

He thinks about that one.

"Maybe we should. But I'm going to see them first in the morning."

"Sorry, Dad."

"Yeah."

I think I hear him sniff when he hangs up the phone.

He was kind of looking forward to the surrogate-grandpa thing. He loves babies. I know he was real happy for Langly when it happened.

Looks like this is gonna be hard for everybody.

I gotta figure out how to make it easier.

END OF PART 29