“I imagine it sends the same message that you did when you picked the Chieftains as your school mascot3.”
“We’ve been the Ponaganset Chieftains since 1970,” the principal argues.
“Yes, and they’ve been members of the Narragansett tribe since they were born.”
“It’s derogatory. And politically incorrect.”
“Unfortunately,” I point out, “you can’t sue a person for political incorrectness, or clearly you would havebeen handed a summons years ago. However, on the flip4 side, the Constitution does protect variousindividual rights to Americans, including Native Americans—one for assembly, and one for free speech,which suggest that the Whiteys would be granted permission to convene5 even if your ridiculous threat of alawsuit managed to make its way to court. For that matter, you may want to consider a class action againsthumanity in general, since surely you’d also like to stifle6 the inherent racism7 implicit8 in the White House, theWhite Mountains, and the White Pages.” There is dead silence on the other end of the phone. “Shall Iassume, then, that I can tell my client you don’t plan to litigate after all?”
After he hangs up on me, I push the intercom button. “Kerri, call Ernie Fishkiller, and tell him he’s gotnothing to worry about.”
As I settle down to the mountain of work on my desk, Judge lets out a sigh. He’s asleep, curled like a braidedrug to the left of my desk. His paw twitches9.
That’s the life, she said to me, as we watched a puppy chase its own tail. That’s what I want to be next.
I had laughed. You would wind up as a cat, I told her. They don’t need anyone else.
I need you, she replied.
Well, I said. Maybe I’ll come back as catnip.
I press my thumbs into the balls of my eyes. Clearly I am not getting enough sleep; first there was thatmoment at the coffee shop, now this. I scowl10 at Judge, as if it is his fault, and then focus my attention onsome notes I’ve made on a legal pad. New client—a drug dealer11 caught by the prosecution12 on videotape.
There’s no way out of a conviction on this one, unless the guy has an identical twin his mother kept secret.
Which, come to think of it…The door opens, and without glancing up I fire a directive at Kerri. “See if you can find some Jenny Jonestranscript about identical twins who don’t know that they—”
“Hello, Campbell.”
I am going crazy; I am definitely going crazy. Because not five feet away from me is Julia Romano, whom Ihave not seen in fifteen years. Her hair is longer now, and fine lines bracket her mouth, parentheses13 around alifetime of words I was not around to hear. “Julia,” I manage.
She closes the door, and at the sound, Judge jumps to his feet. “I’m the guardian14 ad litem assigned to AnnaFitzgerald’s case,” she says.
“Providence is a pretty tight place…I kept expecting…Well, I thought for sure we’d run into each otherbefore now.”
“It’s not all that hard to avoid someone, when you want to,” she answers. “You of all people should know.”
Then, all of a sudden, the anger seems to steam out of her. “I’m sorry. That was totally uncalled for.”
“It’s been a long time,” I reply, when what I really want to do is ask her what she’s been doing for the pastfifteen years. If she still drinks tea with milk and lemon. If she’s happy. “Your hair isn’t pink anymore,” I say,because I am an idiot.
“No, it’s not,” she replies. “Is that a problem?”
I shrug15. “It’s just. Well…” Where are words, when you need them? “I liked the pink,” I confess.
“It tends to take away from my authority in a courtroom,” Julia admits.
This makes me smile. “Since when do you care what people think of you?”
She doesn’t respond, but something changes. The temperature of the room, or maybe the wall that comes upin her eyes. “Maybe instead of dragging up the past, we should talk about Anna,” she suggests diplomatically.
I nod. But it feels like we are sitting on the tight bench of a bus with a stranger between us, one that neitherof us is willing to admit to or mention, and so we find ourselves talking around him and through him andsneaking glances when the other one isn’t looking. How am I supposed to think about Anna Fitzgerald whenI’m wondering whether Julia has ever woken up in someone’s arms and for just a moment, before the sleepcleared from her mind, thought maybe it was me?
Sensing tension, Judge gets up and stands beside me. Julia seems to notice for the first time that we are notalone in the room. “Your partner?”
“Only an associate,” I say. “But he made Law Review.” Her fingers scratch Judge behind the ear—goddamnlucky bastard—and grimacing16, I ask her to stop. “He’s a service dog. He isn’t supposed to be petted.”
Julia looks up, surprised. But before she can ask, I turn the conversation. “So. Anna.” Judge pushes his noseinto my palm.
She folds her arms. “I went to see her.”
“And?”
“Thirteen-year-olds are heavily influenced by their parents. And Anna’s mother seems convinced that thistrial isn’t going to happen. I have a feeling she might be trying to convince Anna of that, too.”
“I can take care of that,” I say.
She looks up, suspicious. “How?”
“I’ll get Sara Fitzgerald removed from the house.”
Her jaw17 drops. “You’re kidding, right?”
By now, Judge has started pulling my clothes in earnest. When I don’t respond, he barks twice. “Well, Icertainly don’t think my client ought to be the one to move out. She hasn’t violated the judge’s orders. I’ll geta temporary restraining order keeping Sara Fitzgerald from having any contact with her.”
“Campbell, that’s her mother!”
“This week, she’s opposing counsel, and if she’s prejudicing my client in any way she needs to be orderednot to do so.”
“Your client has a name, and an age, and a world that’s falling apart—the last thing she needs is moreinstability in her life. Have you even bothered to get to know her?”
“Of course I have,” I lie, as Judge begins to whine18 at my feet.
Julia glances down at him. “Is something wrong with your dog?”
“He’s fine. Look. My job is to protect Anna’s legal rights and win the case, and that’s exactly what I’m goingto do.”
“Of course you are. Not necessarily because it’s in Anna’s best interests…but because it’s in yours. Howironic is it that a kid who wants to stop being used for another person’s benefit winds up picking your nameout of the Yellow Pages?”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I say, my jaw tightening19.
“Well, whose fault is that?”
So much for not bringing up the past. A shudder20 runs the length of me, and I grab Judge by the collar.
“Excuse me,” I say, and I walk out the office door, leaving Julia for the second time in my life.
When you get right down to it, The Wheeler School was a factory, pumping out debutantes21 and futureinvestment bankers. We all looked alike and talked alike. To us, summer was a verb.
There were students, of course, who broke that mold. Like the scholarship kids, who wore their collars upand learned to row, never realizing that all along we were well aware they weren’t one of us. There were thestars, like Tommy Boudreaux, who was drafted by the Detroit Redwings in his junior year. Or the head cases,who tried to slit23 their wrists or mix booze and Valium and then left campus just as silently as they had oncewandered around it.
I was a sixth-former the year that Julia Romano came to Wheeler. She wore army boots and a Cheap Trick T-shirt under her school blazer; she was able to memorize entire sonnets24 without breaking a sweat. During freeperiods, while the rest of us were copping smokes behind the headmaster’s back, she climbed the stairs to theceiling of the gymnasium and sat with her back against a heating duct, reading books by Henry Miller25 andNietzsche. Unlike the other girls in school, with their smooth waterfalls of yellow hair caught up in aheadband like ribbon candy, hers was an absolute tornado26 of black curls, and she never wore makeup—justthose sharp features, take it or leave it. She had the thinnest hoop27 I’d ever seen, a silver filament28, through herleft eyebrow29. She smelled like fresh dough30 rising.
There were rumors31 about her: that she’d been booted out of a girl’s reform school; that she was some whizkid with a perfect PSAT score; that she was two years younger than everyone else in our grade; that she had atattoo. Nobody quite knew what to make of her. They called her Freak, because she wasn’t one of us.
One day Julia Romano arrived at school with short pink hair. We all assumed she’d be suspended, but itturned out that in the litany of rules about what one had to wear at Wheeler, coiffure was conspicuouslyabsent. It made me wonder why there wasn’t a single guy in the school with dreadlocks, and I realized itwasn’t because we couldn’t stand out; it’s because we didn’t want to.
At lunch that day she passed the table where I was sitting with a bunch of guys on the sailing team and someof their girlfriends.
“Hey,” one girl said, “did it hurt?”
Julia slowed down. “Did what hurt?”
“Falling into the cotton candy machine?”
She didn’t even blink. “Sorry, I can’t afford to get my hair done at Wash, Cut and Blow Jobs ‘R’ Us.” Thenshe walked off to the corner of the cafeteria where she always ate by herself, playing solitaire with a deck ofcards that had pictures of patron saints on the backs.
“Shit,” one of my friends said, “that’s one girl I wouldn’t mess with.”
I laughed, because everyone else did. But I also watched her sit down, push the tray of food away from her,and begin to lay out her cards. I wondered what it would be like to not give a damn about what peoplethought of you.
One afternoon, I went AWOL from the sailing team where I was captain, and followed her. I made sure tostay far enough behind that she wouldn’t realize I was there. She headed down Blackstone Boulevard, turnedinto Swan Point Cemetery32, and climbed to the highest point. She opened her knapsack, took out hertextbooks and binder33, and spread herself in front of a grave. “You might as well come out,” she said then, andI nearly swallowed my tongue, expecting a ghost, until I realized she was talking to me. “If you pay an extraquarter, you can even stare up close.”
I stepped out from behind a big oak, my hands dug into my pockets. Now that I was there, I had no idea whyI’d come. I nodded toward the grave. “That a relative?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah. My grandma had the seat right next to him on the Mayflower.” Shestared at me, all right angles and edges. “Don’t you have some cricket match to go to?”
“Polo,” I said, breaking a smile. “I’m just waiting for my horse to get here.”
She didn’t get the joke…or maybe she didn’t find it funny. “What do you want?”
I couldn’t admit that I was following her. “Help,” I said. “Homework.”
In truth I had not looked over our English assignment. I grabbed a paper on top of her binder and read aloud:
You come across a horrible four-car accident. There are people moaning in pain, and bodies strewn all overthe place. Do you have an obligation to stop?
“Why should I help?” she said.
“Well, legally, you shouldn’t. If you pull someone out and hurt them more, you could get sued.”
“I meant why should I help you.”
The paper floated to the ground. “You don’t think very much of me, do you?”
“I don’t think about any of you, period. You’re a bunch of superficial idiots who wouldn’t be caught deadwith someone who’s different from you.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing, too?”
She stared at me for a long second. Then she started stuffing her backpack. “You’ve got a trust fund, right? Ifyou need help, go pay a tutor.”
I put my foot down on top of a textbook. “Would you do it?”
“Tutor you? No way.”
“Stop. At the car accident.”
Her hands quieted. “Yeah. Because even if the law says that no one is responsible for anyone else, helpingsomeone who needs it is the right thing to do.”
I sat down beside her, close enough that the skin of her arm hummed right next to mine. “You really believethat?”
She looked down at her lap. “Yeah.”
“Then how,” I asked, “can you walk away from me?”
Afterward34, I wipe my face with paper towels from the dispenser and fix my tie. Judge pads in tight circlesbeside me, the way he always does. “You did good,” I tell him, patting the thick ruff of his neck.
When I get back into my office, Julia is gone. Kerri sits at the computer in a rare moment of productivity,typing. “She said that if you needed her, you could damn well come find her. Her words, not mine. And sheasked for all the medical records.” Kerri glances over her shoulder at me. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” An orange Post-it on her desk catches my attention.
“Is this where she wants the records sent?”
“Yeah.”
I slip the address into my pocket. “I’ll take care of it,” I say.
A week later, in front of the same grave, I unlaced Julia Romano’s combat boots. I peeled away hercamouflage jacket. Her feet were narrow and as pink as the inside of a tulip. Her collarbone was a mystery. “Iknew you were beautiful under there,” I said, and this was the first spot on her that I kissed.
The Fitzgeralds live in Upper Darby, in a house that could belong to any typical American family. Two-cargarage; aluminum35 siding; Totfinder stickers in the windows for the fire department. By the time I get there,the sun is setting behind the roofline.
The whole drive over, I’ve tried to convince myself that what Julia said has absolutely no bearing on whyI’ve decided36 to visit my client. That I was always planning to take this little detour37 before I headed home forthe night.
But the truth is, in all the years I’ve been practicing, this is the first time I’ve paid a house call.
Anna opens the door when I ring the bell. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you.”
“Does that cost extra?”
“No,” I say dryly. “It’s part of a special promotion38 I’m doing this month.”
“Oh.” She crosses her arms. “Have you talked to my mother?”
“I’m trying my best not to. I assume she’s not home?”
Anna shakes her head. “She’s at the hospital. Kate got admitted again. I thought you might have gone overthere.”
“Kate’s not my client.”
This actually seems to disappoint her. She tucks her hair behind her ears. “Did you, like, want to come in?”
I follow her into the living room and sit down on the couch, a palette of cheery blue stripes. Judge sniffs39 theedges of the furniture. “I heard you met the guardian ad litem.”
“Julia. She took me to the zoo. She seems all right.” Her eyes dart40 to mine. “Did she say something aboutme?”
“She’s worried that your mother might be talking to you about this case.”
“Other than Kate,” Anna says, “what else is there to talk about?”
We stare at each other for a moment. Beyond a client-attorney relationship, I am at a loss.
I could ask to see her room, except that there’s no way in hell any male defense41 attorney would ever goupstairs alone with a thirteen-year-old girl. I could take her out to dinner, but I doubt she’d appreciate CaféNuovo, one of my favorite haunts, and I don’t think I could stomach a Whopper. I could ask her about school,but it isn’t in session.
“Do you have kids?” Anna asks.
I laugh. “What do you think?”
“It’s probably a good thing,” she admits. “No offense42, but you don’t exactly look like a parent.”
That fascinates me. “What do parents look like?”
She seems to think about this. “You know how the tightrope43 guy at the circus wants everyone to believe hisact is an art, but deep down you can see that he’s really just hoping he makes it all the way across? Like that.”
She glances at me. “You can relax, you know. I’m not going to tie you up and make you listen to gangstarap.”
“Oh, well,” I joke. “In that case.” I loosen my tie and sit back on the pillows.
It makes a smile dart briefly44 across her face. “You don’t have to pretend to be my friend or anything.”
“I don’t want to pretend.” I run my hand through my hair. “The thing is, this is new to me.”
“What is?”
I gesture around the living room. “Visiting a client. Shooting the breeze. Not leaving a case at the office atthe end of the day.”
“Well, this is new to me, too,” Anna confesses.
“What is?”
She twists a strand45 of hair around her pinky. “Hoping,” she says.
The part of town where Julia’s apartment is located is an upscale area with a reputation for divorcedbachelors, a point that irritates me the whole time I am trying to find a parking spot. Then the doorman takesone look at Judge and bars my path. “No dogs allowed,” he says. “Sorry.”
“This is a service dog.” When that doesn’t seem to ring a bell, I spell it out for him. “You know. Like SeeingEye.”
“You don’t look blind.”
“I’m a recovering alcoholic,” I tell him. “The dog gets between me and a beer.”
Julia’s apartment is on the seventh floor. I knock on her door and then see an eye checking me out throughthe peephole. She opens it a crack, but leaves the chain in place. She has a kerchief wrapped around her head,and she looks like she’s been crying.
“Hi,” I say. “Can we start over?”
She wipes her nose. “Who the hell are you?”
“Okay. Maybe I deserve that.” I glance at the chain. “Let me in, will you?”
She gives me a look, like I’m crazy or something. “Are you on crack?”
There is a scuffle, and another voice, and then the door opens wide and stupidly I think: There are two of her.
“Campbell,” the real Julia says, “what are you doing here?”
I hold up the medical records, still getting over the shock. How the hell is it that she never managed tomention, that entire year at Wheeler, having a twin?
“Izzy, this is Campbell Alexander. Campbell, this is my sister.”
“Campbell…” I watch Izzy turn my name over on her tongue. At second glance, she really looks nothing likeJulia at all. Her nose is a bit longer, her complexion46 not nearly the same shade of gold. Not to mention thefact that watching her mouth move doesn’t make me hard. “Not the Campbell?” she says, turning to Julia.
“From…”
“Yeah,” she sighs.
Izzy’s gaze narrows. “I knew I shouldn’t let him in.”
“It’s fine,” Julia insists, and she takes the files from me. “Thanks for bringing these.”
Izzy waggles her fingers. “You can leave now.”
“Stop.” Julia swats her sister’s arm. “Campbell is the attorney I’m working with this week.”
“But wasn’t he the guy who—”
“Yes, thanks, I have a fully47 functioning memory.”
“So!” I interrupt. “I stopped off at Anna’s house.”
Julia turns to me. “And?”
“Earth to Julia,” Izzy says. “This is self-destructive behavior.”
“Not when it involves a paycheck, Izzy. We have a case together, that’s it. Okay? And I really don’t feel likebeing lectured by you about self-destructive behavior. Who called Janet for a mercy fuck the night after shedumped you?”
“Hey,” I turn to Judge. “How about those Red Sox?”
Izzy stamps down the hall. “It’s your suicide,” she yells, and then I hear a door slam.
“I think she really likes me,” I say, but Julia doesn’t crack a smile.
“Thanks for the medical records. Bye.”
“Julia—”
“Hey, I’m just saving you the trouble. It must’ve been hard training a dog to drag you out of a room whenyou need rescuing from some emotionally volatile48 situation, like an old girlfriend who’s telling the truth.
How does it work, Campbell? Hand signals? Word commands? A high-pitched whistle?”
I look wistfully down the empty hallway. “Can I have Izzy back instead?”
Julia tries to push me out the door.
“All right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off today in the office. But…it was an emergency.”
She stares at me. “What did you say the dog’s for?”
“I didn’t.” When she turns, Judge and I follow her deeper into the apartment, closing the door behind us. “SoI went to see Anna Fitzgerald. You were right—before I took out a restraining order against her mother, Ineeded to talk to her.”
“And?”
I think back to the two of us, sitting on that striped couch, stretching a web of trust between us. “I think we’reon the same page.” Julia doesn’t respond, just picks up a glass of white wine on the kitchen counter. “Whyyes, I’d love some,” I say.
She shrugs49. “It’s in Smilla.”
The fridge, of course. For its sense of snow. When I walk there and take out the bottle, I can feel her tryingnot to smile. “You forget that I know you.”
“Knew,” she corrects.
“Then educate me. What have you been doing for fifteen years?” I nod down the hallway toward Izzy’sroom. “I mean, other than cloning yourself.” A thought occurs to me, and before I can even voice it Juliaanswers.
“My brothers all became builders and chefs and plumbers50. My parents wanted their girls to go to college, andfigured attending Wheeler senior year might stack the odds51. I had good enough grades to get a partialscholarship there; Izzy didn’t. My parents could only afford to send one of us to private school.”
“Did she go to college?”
“RISD,” Julia says. “She’s a jewelry52 designer.”
“A hostile jewelry designer.”
“Having your heart broken can do that.” Our eyes meet, and Julia realizes what she’s said. “She just movedin today.”
My eyes canvass53 the apartment, looking for a hockey stick, a Sports Illustrated54 magazine, a La-Z-Boy chair,anything telltale and male. “Is it hard getting used to a roommate?”
“I was living alone before, Campbell, if that’s what you’re asking.” She looks at me over the edge of herwine glass. “How about you?”
“I have six wives, fifteen children, and an assortment55 of sheep.”
Her lips curve. “People like you always make me feel like I’m underachieving.”
“Oh yeah, you’re a real waste of space on the planet. Harvard undergrad, Harvard Law, a bleeding heartguardian ad litem—”
“How’d you know where I went to law school?”
“Judge DeSalvo,” I lie, and she buys it.
I wonder if Julia feels like it has been moments, not years, since we’ve been together. If sitting at this counterwith me feels as effortless for her as it does for me. It’s like picking up an unfamiliar56 piece of sheet musicand starting to stumble through it, only to realize it is a melody you’d once learned by heart, one you can playwithout even trying.
“I didn’t think you’d become a guardian ad litem,” I admit.
“Neither did I.” Julia smiles. “I still have moments where I fantasize about standing57 on a soapbox in BostonCommon, railing against a patriarchal society. Unfortunately, you can’t pay a landlord in dogma.” Sheglances at me. “Of course, I also mistakenly believed you’d be President of the United States by now.”
“I inhaled,” I confess. “Had to set my sights a little lower. And you—well, actually, I figured you’d be livingin the suburbs, doing the soccer mom thing with a bunch of kids and some lucky guy.”
Julia shakes her head. “I think you’re confusing me with Muffy or Bitsie or Toto or whatever the hell thenames of the girls in Wheeler were.”
“No. I just thought that…that I might be the guy.”
There is a thick, viscous58 silence. “You didn’t want to be that guy,” Julia says finally. “You made that prettyclear.”
That’s not true, I want to argue. But how else would it look to her, when afterward, I wanted nothing to dowith her. When, afterward, I acted just like everyone else. “Do you remember—” I begin.
“I remember everything, Campbell,” she interrupts. “If I didn’t, this wouldn’t be so hard.”
My pulse jumps so high that Judge gets to his feet and pushes his snout into my hip22, alarmed. I had believedback then that nothing could hurt Julia, who seemed to be so free. I had hoped that I could be as lucky.
I was mistaken on both counts.
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mascot
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flip
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convene
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stifle
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racism
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implicit
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twitches
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scowl
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dealer
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prosecution
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parentheses
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guardian
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miller
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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binder
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| n.包扎物，包扎工具；[法]临时契约；粘合剂；装订工 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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aluminum
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| n.(aluminium)铝 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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sniffs
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的第三人称单数 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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tightrope
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| n.绷紧的绳索或钢丝 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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plumbers
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| n.管子工，水暖工( plumber的名词复数 )；[美][口]（防止泄密的）堵漏人员 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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canvass
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| v.招徕顾客，兜售；游说；详细检查，讨论 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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assortment
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| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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viscous
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| adj.粘滞的，粘性的 | |
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