Part 39 (1/2)

”Who?” Auberon stiffened. There were subjects he had no intention of discussing with Smoky. That with their cards and their second sight they could probe his heart and learn his business was bad enough.

”The lady who came,” Smoky said. ”That Miss Hawksquill. Cousin Ariel, as Sophie says.”

”Oh. In a park. We fell into conversationa . A little park that said it was built by, you know, old John and his company, back when.”

”A little park,” Smoky said, surprised, ”with funny curving paths, that a”

”Yeah,” Auberon said.

”That lead in, only they don't, and a”

”Yeah.”

”Fountains, statues, a little bridge a”

”Yeah, yeah.”

”I used to go there,” Smoky said. ”How do you like that.”

Auberon didn't, really. He said nothing.

”It always reminded me,” Smoky said, ”for some reason, of Alice.” Suddenly flung back into the past, Smoky with great vividness remembered the small summery park, and felta”tasted, almost, with the mind's tonguea”the season of his first love for his wife. When he was Auberon's age. ”How do you like that,” he said again, dreamily, tasting a cordial in which a whole summer's fruits were long ago distilled. He looked at Auberon. He was staring into his gla.s.s gloomily. Smoky sensed that he was approaching a sore spot or subject. How odd, though, the same park a ”Well,” he said, and cleared his throat. ”She seems like quite a woman.”

Auberon ran his hand over his brow.

”I mean this Hawksquill person.”

”Oh. Oh, yes.” Auberon cleared his throat, and drank. ”Crazy, I thought, maybe.”

”Oh? Oh, I don't think so. No more than a She certainly had a lot of energy. Wanted to see the house from top to bottom. She had some interesting things to say. We even crawled up into the old orrery. She said she had one, in her house in the City, different, but built on the same principles, maybe by the same person.” He had grown animated, hopeful. ”You know what? She thought we could get it working again. I showed her it was all rusted, because, you know, the main wheel for some reason sticks out into the air, but she said, well, she thought the basic works are still okay. I don't see how she could tell that, but wouldn't that be fun? After all these years. I thought I'd have a shot at it. Clean it up, and see a”

Auberon looked at his father. He began to laugh. That broad, sweet, simple face. How could he have ever thought a ”You know something?” he said. ”I used to think, when I was a kid, that it did move.”

”What?”

”Sure. I thought it did move. I thought I could prove that it moved.”

”You mean by itself? How?”

”I didn't know how,” Auberon said. ”But I thought it did, and that you all knew it did, and didn't want me to know.”

Smoky laughed too. ”Well, why?” he said. ”I mean why would we keep it a secret? And anyhow, how could it? What would be the power?”

”I don't know, Dad,” Auberon said, laughing more, though the laughter seemed likely to deliquesce into tears. ”By itself. I don't know.” He rose, unfolding himself from the b.u.t.toned chair. ”I thought,” he said, ”oh, h.e.l.l, I can't recreate it, why I thought it was important, I mean why that was important, but I thought I was going to get the goods on youa .”

”What? What?” Smoky said. ”Well why didn't you ask? I mean a simple question a”

”Dad,” Auberon said, ”do you think there's ever been a simple question around here you could ask?”

”Well,” Smoky said.

”Okay,” Auberon said. ”Okay, I'll ask you a simple question, okay?”

Smoky sat upright in his chair. Auberon wasn't laughing any more. ”Okay,” he said.

”Do you believe in fairies?” Auberon asked.

Smoky looked up at his tall son. Through the whole of their lives together, it had been as though he and Auberon had been back to back, fixed that way and unable to turn. They had had to communicate by indirection, through others, or by craning their necks and talking out the sides of their mouths; they had had to guess at each other's faces and actions. Now and then one or the other would try a quick spin around to catch the other unawares, but it never worked, quite, the other was still behind and facing away, as in the old vaudeville act. And the effort of communication in that posture, the effort of making oneself clear, had often grown too much for them, and they'd given it up, mostly. But nowa”maybe because of what had happened to him in the City, whatever that was, or maybe only increase of time wearing away the bond that had both held them and held them apart, Auberon had turned around. Slowly I turn. And all that was left then was for Smoky himself to turn and face him. ”Well,” he said, ” *believe', I don't know; *believe', that's a word a”

”Uh uh,” said Auberon. ”No quotes.”

Auberon stood over him now, looking down, waiting. ”Okay,” Smoky said. ”The answer is no.”

”Okay!” Auberon said, grimly triumphant.

”I never did.”

”Okay.”

”Of course,” Smoky said, ”it wouldn't have been right to say so, you know, or really ask right out what was what here; I never wanted to spoil anything by nota”not joining in. So I never said anything. Never asked questions, never. Especially not simple ones. I just hope you noticed that, because it wasn't always easy.”

”I know,” Auberon said.

Smoky looked down. ”I'm sorry about that,” he said; ”about deceiving youa”if I did, I suppose I didn't; and sort of spying on you all the time, trying to figure it outa”when all the time I was supposed to know about it all, the same as you.” He sighed. ”It's not so easy,” he said. ”Living a lie.”

”Wait a sec,” Auberon said. ”Dad.”

”None of you seemed to mind, really. Except you, I think. Well. And it didn't seem that they minded, that I didn't believe in them, the Tale went on and all, just the same-didn't it? Only I did, I admit, feel a little jealous; anyway I used to. Jealous of you. Who knew.”

”Listen, Dad, listen.”

”No, it's all right,” Smoky said. If he were going to face front then he would by G.o.d face front. ”Only a Well, it always seemed to me that youa”just you, not the othersa”could have explained it. That you wanted to explain it, but couldn't. No, it's all right.” He held up his hand to forestall whatever evasion or equivocation his son was about to make. ”They, I mean Alice, and Sophie, and Aunt Clouda”even the girlsa”they said everything they could, I think, only nothing they could say was ever an explanation, not an explanation, even though maybe they thought it was, maybe they thought they'd explained it over and over and I was just too dumb to grasp it; maybe I was. But I used to think that youa”I don't know whya”that I could maybe understand you, and that you were always just about to spill the beansa .”

”Dad a”

”And that we got off on the wrong foot, way back, because you had to hide it, and so you sort of had to hide from mea .”

”No! No no no a”

”And I'm sorry, really, if you felt I was always spying on you and intruding and all, but a”

”Dad, Dad, will you please just listen a second?”

”But well, as long as we're asking simple questions, I'd like to know what it was that you a”