What We Remember. Michael Thomas Ford

on him?” Celeste objected. “He’s the one who’s—”

      “Celeste,” said Nate, stopping her.

      “I’m sorry, Mom,” Celeste said. “Maybe you should go lie down.”

      “Maybe,” said Ada. “Maybe I will at that.”

      She stood up. Celeste steadied her. “Let me help you, Mom,” she said.

      “I’m fine, Celeste,” Ada answered. “Just let me be.”

      Billy watched as his mother left the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, Celeste turned to him. “You’re high, aren’t you?”

      “What difference does it make?” Billy said.

      “For one thing, it’s illegal,” Celeste told him.

      “Illegal?” said Billy. He laughed. “You’ve been married to that one for too long,” he told his sister, indicating Nate with a wave of his hand. “And it wasn’t all that long ago that neither of you cared about it being illegal yourselves.”

      “That was a little pot,” Celeste replied. “What you’re doing is a lot worse.”

      “Right,” said Billy, nodding.

      “Mom doesn’t need you being fucked up right now, Billy,” Celeste said.

      “Maybe not,” Billy agreed. He looked his sister in the eyes. “But maybe it’s what I need.”

      Celeste shook her head. “Can’t you arrest him?” she asked her husband.

      “Both of you need to pull it together,” said Nate. “This is just going to get worse.”

      “Don’t worry,” Billy told him. “Didn’t you hear? James is coming.”

      “I’m serious, Billy,” Celeste said. “Once this gets out, everyone’s going to be looking at us. I don’t want them thinking…” She stopped, and turned to look out the window.

      “Think what?” Billy asked her. “Think what, Celeste?” he repeated when his sister didn’t reply.

      “You know what,” Celeste said quietly. “You know what, Billy.”

      Billy stood up. He swayed slightly as his head pounded. “Here’s a news flash for you, big sister. They already think it.”

      He made his way out of the kitchen and into the bathroom that was off the hall leading to the living room. After shutting the door behind him, he slumped to the floor and sat there, his back against the side of the tub. The tile in the bathroom was pale pink. It hadn’t changed since he was a kid. Sitting in there with the door closed, it felt like being inside a womb, small and closed in and safe.

      He shut his eyes. They’d found his father. His father who had supposedly killed himself seven years ago but who now it seemed had been murdered. It seemed like he should feel something—sadness, anger, rage, anything. Instead, he just felt numb. Not that that was anything new. He had perfected achieving a state of total disinterest in everything.

      The throbbing in his head had subsided to a dull pain. Through the door he could hear the voices of Celeste and Nate, faint as the droning of bees. Beside him warm air blew up through the vent in the floor, the breath of the oil furnace hibernating in its basement cave. It felt good to be warm; he was almost always cold. But not here, in the pink bathroom, away from everything.

      He curled himself into a ball beside the tub, his head resting on the mat. And for the first time in days, he slept.

      CHAPTER 4

      1982

      It took him a moment to realize that the reason the shoe wouldn’t go on was because he was trying to put it on the wrong foot. Once he figured that out, he easily slipped the red pump over the delicate toes and tucked the heel into the back. He repeated the process on the other foot. The shoes were pretty, much better than the white sandals he’d tried first. Those had not matched the dress at all.

      Billy took the Barbie and laid her on the carpet. Turning his attention to Ken, he removed the flower-patterned swimming trunks and replaced them with a pair of tuxedo pants. The garish Hawaiian shirt was abandoned in favor of a shirt and jacket. Black shoes completed the outfit.

      With both Barbie and Ken now appropriately dressed for an evening out, he held one in each hand. Turning them to face one another, he took turns providing them with voices.

      “Thanks for asking me to dinner,” Barbie said sweetly.

      Ken nodded. “Thank you for coming,” he replied, his voice deep and manly. “You look beautiful.”

      Barbie turned away, embarrassed. When she looked back at Ken she said, “Aren’t you going to kiss me good night?”

      Ken leaned in, his lips touching Barbie’s. Billy watched them, envious.

      The door to the room burst open, startling him and causing him to drop the dolls. Behind him, James stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the clothes scattered across the floor. Billy began to quickly sweep them into a pile.

      “Jesus Christ, Bill,” James said. “What are you doing?”

      “Nothing,” said Billy. “Just fooling around.”

      “I thought Celeste told you to keep out of her stuff,” James continued.

      “She doesn’t even look at these anymore,” said Billy. “She says she’s too old for them.”

      “Well, she is,” said James. “And so are you. Also, you’re a boy.”

      Billy shrugged as he picked up Ken and Barbie and put them back into the plastic carrying case. “It’s just a game,” he said.

      “A girl’s game,” James said. “And you’re almost thirteen, for Christ’s sake.”

      “Mom told you not to say Christ like that,” Billy reminded him. “It’s a sin.”

      “Whatever,” said James. “Just put that shit away. Dad wants you to come help outside.”

      “Help do what?” Billy asked. He slipped the dolls’ carrying case back into Celeste’s closet, then shut the door.

      “He’s working on the car,” said James. “He wants you to learn how to change the oil.”

      Billy stood up. “Why?” he asked. “Isn’t that why they have garages?”

      “Because a guy should know how to change the oil in a car,” said James.

      They left Celeste’s room and walked down the hallway toward the living room. As they did, James put his hand on Billy’s shoulder.

      “You’ve really got to grow up, Bill,” he said. “You’re not a kid anymore.”

      “My name’s Billy,” Billy reminded him

      “See,” said James. “That’s what I mean. Billy is a little kid’s name. You should go by Bill.”

      “But I like Billy.”

      They passed through the kitchen, pushing open the back door and exiting the house. In the driveway their father was standing in front of the family car. The hood was open, held in place by the thin rod that Billy was always afraid would snap in two at any moment, bringing the hood down on his fingers or his head.

      “I found him,” James said to their father.

      Billy waited for his brother to tell their father where he had found him. But James left it at that. Sometimes he wasn’t a total jerk, Billy thought. But not often.

      “Come take a look at this,” their father said, waving both boys over.

      Billy followed James to the car. He stood a little bit back, peering down into the tangled knots of unidentifiable metal pieces.