第 117 页

Caranthir downshifted, slowing down as they approached the driveway. “So what are you going to say when you see him?”

Curufin raised his sunglasses so he could give his brother a withering look. “My god, tell me you are not coaching me right now.”

Caranthir ignored the look. “You are going to be contrite and respectful and take full responsibility – ”

“Because if you were coaching me, you realize I’d have to murder you.”

“ – and say, ‘I tried to keep it off your plate for as long as I could, but the contractor is over budget.’ And then you’ll say ‘And my brothers, who never signed up for this, are flat broke, and have gone on strike until I ask for financial assistance.’ Full financial assistance, mind you, not just pitching in a bit; we need him to cover the rest of the work, bottom line. You can apologize all you want, but full financial assistance, that's key. Got all the details down?” Caranthir parked the car and turned off the ignition. “And you can’t murder me, Mom banned murder after Thanksgiving ‘08.”

Curufin sighed and looked out the window. “I’ve been trying to appeal that ruling since New Year’s ‘09.” He opened the car door and got out, and Caranthir did the same. “Now shut up already, if you try and prompt me on how to talk to Father one more time I will be forced to choke on the irony.”

They walked up the lane to the house, Caranthir pausing to run his hand companionably over the stone head of the dragon, and Curufin checked his watch. “No more than two hours here, and then you’ll be able drop me at campus, yes?”

“Sure. It’s not like Formenos is that much farther a drive to campus than it is from Fingon’s place.”

“Fact. Staying at Hithlum Ave is so massively inconvenient.” Curufin curled his lip. “Having to drive – ”

“Be driven,” corrected Caranthir. “Seeing as no one trusts you behind the wheel.”

“ – drive to school, or else take the bus, where I always end up seated beside the next Typhoid Mary or some leering trench coat masturbator…”

“Why don’t you just stay at Finrod’s?” Caranthir swung his keys. “He’s walking distance to campus.”

They were at the front stoop now, and Curufin glanced at the house as if he suspected they were being watched from the windows. “I didn’t want to impose.”

“Yeah, ‘cos Finrod, the most hospitable weirdo in the country, is the type who’d take that as an imposition.”

“He sleeps on a futon.”

“You’re currently sleeping on a pile of blankets in the corner of Maitimo’s living room.”

Curufin crossed his arms. “Just because it’s that or share the air mattress with you. He has roommates, all right? I don’t want to get up every day with a destroyed back from that lumpy horror he sleeps on and then putter around in someone else’s kitchen while his housemates give me knowing looks, have to put myself together in someone else’s home, and it’s not like he has a private bathroom – ”

“You’ve shared a bathroom with four other people for the past two years; no, scratch that, your entire life. You have six brothers, you’ve never had a private bathroom.”

“At least I’m used to the brothers,” said Curufin, and cleared his throat. He lifted his chin as Caranthir raised his eyebrows. “Don’t read too much into it, it doesn't mean I like you.”

“Whatever you say.” Caranthir grinned and knocked loudly on the door.

* * *

“Ambarto…”

“Get off my back, mom.”

“We need to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Amras stalked into his room, and Nerdanel followed before he could slam the door behind him.

“We can make it small goals, all right? Let’s aim for five pounds to start, and then – ”

“I’m not hungry, that’s literally all there is to this conversation.” Amras rolled his eyes and retreated to the far corner of the room, throwing himself down in a chair. “Stop trying to make it a bigger deal than that.”

“I understand that you’re not hungry,” said Nerdanel, starting to follow him across the room but then restraining herself. “I know the meds have done a number on you. But chick – ”

“Don’t call me that.”

“ – you’re still growing, and eating too little could have an impact on your growth. It can have an impact on your health and recovery too, and that’s why we’re just talking about getting you to the weight you were before the accident, so you can have the best reserves possible to help you heal.”

Amras dug his fingernail into the windowsill, busily pulling up splinters. “And get back to normal, huh?”

“At least get you to as happy and healthy as you should be.” Nerdanel pressed her fingers together like she was trying to mold the air in the room into something she could grasp. “You can define normal for yourself.”

Amras snorted. “I could weigh as much as a truck, Ma, it’s not gonna get me ‘normal.’” He flicked a splinter across the room and gestured spitefully to his eye. “Even if I ‘define normal’ however I want, no one else thinks a sixteen year old with a fucking eye patch is normal, and they’re not gonna think it’s normal when I’ve still got it on in five years, or ten, or twenty – maybe I’ll add a parrot and a peg leg at that point, really complete the look.”

“They said you don’t have to wear the patch much longer,” said Amrod, who had come in behind Nerdanel. “It’s really just to protect it while it heals after the last surgery, isn’t it? Then you can take it off, and no one will even notice.”

“Just like no one notices the scars?” Amras laughed. “That’s a good one. No one will notice I’m blind in one eye, right, because they’ll all just avoid looking at me altogether like they do now.”

Amrod took a step closer, but Amras when drew away from him he stopped. “I thought they said there’s a good chance no one will be able to tell the difference between the eyes.”

“And what if they have to take it out altogether at some point? We don’t know what it’ll look like after it heals from surgery, we don’t know if this was the last surgery, it could be anything next. You weren’t there when they were talking about my fucking prosthetic options, you’re not the one who might have a damn marble shoved in his eye socket at some point, so shut up, Telvo.”

Amrod fell abruptly silent, and Nerdanel squeezed his shoulder. “Pityo, we can keep talking about the options for your eye so we have the best sense of what to expect. I promise we’ll do everything we can to make sure you’re comfortable with what happens, and you’ll have the final say in any big medical decisions. But everything will be easier if we can get you up ten pounds – just five pounds for now, sweetheart, and – ”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’ll get him to eat,” said Amrod, as Nerdanel lifted her hands helplessly. “I’ll help.”

“Fuck off, Telvo,” snarled Amras. “No one asked you.”

Fëanor came through the door and paused, taking in the expression on Nerdanel’s face and Amrod, whose eyes were very bright in his suddenly pale face. Amras glanced up perfunctorily at his father, sneered, and then looked out the window again.

“Moryo and Curvo just arrived,” said Fëanor slowly.

“Moryo’s here?” Amras stood up. “Good.” He brushed past his parents, not looking at his twin at all, and vanished down the hall.

Amrod stared at the ground.

“He doesn’t mean it, Telvo,” said Nerdanel softly, and Fëanor looked at them both.

“What happened?”

Amrod didn’t answer, but pulled free of Nerdanel’s comforting hand and followed his brother into the hall.

“I should go see Curvo, he wanted to talk,” said Fëanor, but he didn’t leave as Nerdanel sank down on the bottom bunk of the twins’ beds and put her face in her hands. “Nerdanel.” He knelt down beside her and rested his hand on her knee. “Was it the same argument again? We’ll get him through this.”

“What am I doing wrong?” said Nerdanel, her voice muffled. “Why can’t I keep my child from wasting away before our eyes?”

“He’s not going to waste away. He’s not going anywhere.” Fëanor’s voice was resonant with conviction. “We’ll get him all the help he needs. I'll do everything in my power, I promise. If it means I have to donate a wing to the hospital, if it means going through every doctor on the East Coast or shipping them in from abroad; we are not going to be beaten."

Nerdanel shook her head, the slump of her shoulders betraying her exhaustion. "Fëanáro."

"You’re not doing anything wrong, love.” Fëanor's voice softened on the last word, and Nerdanel’s hands dropped away from her face. She sought Fëanor’s hand on her leg and clutched at it, and Fëanor reached up to put an arm around her waist and pull her off the bed and against his chest. They sat together on the floor, Nerdanel’s head on Fëanor’s shoulder, their legs splayed out before them, and this time, Fëanor didn't say anything more.

Shadows shifted on the old carpet. On the desk in Amrod’s corner of the room, there was a faint shifting from the terrarium as the elderly snake within it stirred and began to poke his nose through his cardboard tube in an investigatory way. A faint breeze came through the window that was half cracked over Amras’ desk, lifting the edges of the stacks of paper sent from school. Still sitting on the floor, leaning against Fëanor’s side, Nerdanel sniffed and picked up a shoe that was poking out from under the bed.

“They need new climbing shoes,” she said thickly. “Look, these are almost worn through.”

Fëanor ran a hand against her hair, his eyes intent on the way the red-grey strands caught the light. “We’ll get them new gear. Maybe it will encourage Pityo to go back to the climbing gym.”

“Maybe.” Nerdanel laid the shoe down and brushed at her cheeks. “But maybe he was right; there’s no going back to normal.”

“Back to normal?” Fëanor's teeth glinted in a fierce but fond smile. “My dear, when have we ever managed that?”

* * *

Caranthir and Curufin looked up when Amras came down the stairs. He was wearing a dark tee shirt that hung loose on his frame, and the eye that wasn’t covered by a patch was narrowed in anger. But his face brightened as he saw them, and he came into the kitchen.

“Curvo’s gotta talk to dad but I can hang out for a couple hours,” said Caranthir in lieu of hello, as Amras came over and bumped his shoulder in greeting. “Anything cool going on here?”

“Literally never. What are you going to talk to dad about?” Amras addressed Curufin.

“He’s gonna confess his sins,” said Caranthir. “Or at least he better.”

Curufin rolled his eyes. “I am going to have a logistical discussion about house issues.”

“Like I said,” said Caranthir. “His sins.”

Amrod trailed down the stairs and joined them, but Amras didn’t look at him.

“Hey, Curvo,” said Amrod softly.

“Hello, Telufinwë. How’d the test go?”

“Better than I thought.” Amrod lifted the corner of his mouth in a wan smile. “Those practice tests you sent were really helpful.”

“You did better with them than Maitimo did. Congratulations, you’re probably set to teach middle school math now.”

“Yeah." Amrod settled onto a stool at Curufin's elbow and poked at the newspaper Curufin had been examining. "Did you see Uncle Nolofinwë’s going to be running for State Congress? Dad was being all weird about it at dinner.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that farce.”

Amras sighed loudly. “Jesus, you are so boring.”

Curufin laid his sunglasses on the countertop with a snap. “No one asked your opinion, philistine.”

“Whatever. Let’s do something else.” Amras nudged Caranthir. “We can leave these two to talking about whatever boring crap.”

Caranthir glanced over at Curufin, then shrugged. “Sure. You wanna go hang out in the basement?”

“No.” Amras twitched his shoulders and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m so sick of being in this place, let’s go outside.”

They left Amrod and Curufin in the kitchen and made their way to the back of the house, where the door opened onto the deck that abutted Nerdanel’s studio.

“So you wanna, uh, throw a disc around or something?” Caranthir made a vague gesture that might have been throwing a frisbee, or else operating a floodgate.

“Hah. My aim is probably going to be all kinds of messed up thanks to this thing.” Amras jerked his thumb towards his eye.

Caranthir grunted. “Good, we’ll be on even playing field then, because I have never thrown a goddamn frisbee straight in my entire life.”

Amras gave a shadow of a smile. “Perfect.”

As Caranthir dug through the garden shed, unearthing snow shovels and old volleyballs in his quest, Amrod came out quietly and sat on the steps to the deck. Amras ignored him, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and waiting for Caranthir.

Caranthir emerged at last, dusty and cobwebbed, with a battered green frisbee in one hand. “Christ, we have a lot of volleyballs considering we never owned a volleyball net. Okay, you ready for this?”

Amras widened his stance and flexed his hands. “Try me.”

Caranthir straightened his back, cocked his wrist and let the frisbee fly. It curved left, soaring high over Amras’ head, over the fence, and into the neighbors’ woods, where it vanished. They both stared contemplatively after it.

“You weren’t kidding,” said Amras, after a while.

“Ahh, well, who the hell am I, Tyelko? I don’t fuck with sports props.” Caranthir threw up his arms and shuffled over to the willow that held the remains of their old tree house. He cast himself down on the bench beneath it, the boards only slightly damp from recently melted snow, and Amras came over to sit next to him. “It was a dumb idea.”

“Typical.” Amras grinned and elbowed him. “Dumb idea from a dumbass.”

“Watch it,” grumbled Caranthir, digging an elbow into his ribs in turn. They grappled briefly and then Amras subsided, leaning his head back on the bench and staring at the sky through the bare, waving boughs of the willow. Caranthir stretched out his legs and kicked his heels absently into the wet, mucky grass. He stared across the yard to where Amrod was still sitting on the steps, and said quietly, “You and Telvo fighting?”

“No.”

“Kinda looks like it.”

“He’s just getting on my nerves.”

“Huh.”

Amras grimaced, still looking at the sky. “He’s just…he's been such an ass-kisser lately. He’s being this chipper little gofer for mom and dad, and it’s just like, enough already, get over yourself. We get it, you’re so helpful, you’re such a supportive kid, you’re doing well in school, you’re not the one who makes trouble for everyone…” Amras trailed off and glowered at a passing cloud. “Forget it. It’s whatever, you don’t get it.”

“Yeah, right, I don’t know anything about perfect goody two shoes little brothers.” Caranthir snorted. “Who’d I show up with here today? Telvo’s got nothing on Curvo for ass-kissery. I’m sure he’ll be back to being just as much of an annoying brat as you are, soon. He’s probably just trying to be helpful.”

“Well yeah, of course he is, but that’s such a pain in the butt.” Amras joined Caranthir in digging up the turf with his toes. “Every time he gets to be the well-behaved, thoughtful one, it just makes me feel like a dick for not doing everything mom and dad say.”