“I know lots of songs,” she said. “Do you?”
“Well, I…” Ezra paused. “Yeah, I know lots of songs, too.”
“That’s because we’re all born with a million songs inside us-and we know them all by heart.”
Harry turned to her, his mouth opening as if to say something, then closing again.
“But as we get older,” Lily continued, “we forget them. Every day we forget some, and every day we get a little sadder. But children haven’t forgotten too many yet.”
She closed her eyes and settled her head on Ezra’s shoulder.
17
When he opened the door, Corley was startled to find not only Geiger but also a boy of eleven or twelve with symmetrical pink stripes marking his face; a skinny, bedraggled man with a discolored contusion on his left temple; and a delicate woman whose unfocused, darting gaze immediately suggested that she suffered from significant psychological problems.
“We need to come in,” Geiger said.
The gathering at his door was so bizarre, and the wash of despair and weariness coming off them so strong, that Corley didn’t know how to respond.
“Geiger,” he said. “Who are all these-”
“Martin, we need to come in.”
Geiger’s voice was unsettling: the timbre of it and the crests of inflection were slightly different from the smooth, nearly atonal speech Corley was accustomed to hearing. He looked more closely at Geiger and saw it in his eyes. Something had happened.
“Come in,” Corley said, opening the door wide and waving at the two oversized leather chairs and the two beige sofas in his living room. “Please, sit down. Anywhere.”
Ezra chose a chair. Harry planted Lily on a sofa and collapsed beside her with a groan. Geiger remained standing.
Corley followed his guests into the room. “I’m Martin Corley. I’m a psychiatrist.”
Harry’s head snapped upright. “Wait a sec. You’re Geiger’s psychiatrist?” He looked at Geiger. “You see a shrink?”
“This is Harry,” said Geiger, “and Ezra and Lily, Harry’s sister.”
“Well,” said Corley, “this is certainly a very unusual situation. I think we can all agree on that.”
“Doc,” said Harry, “I should probably tell you that Lily’s been institutionalized for fifteen years, so she won’t be agreeing on anything.”
“I see.” Corley noted her collapsed posture as she sat on the sofa. “Clearly you’ve all been through a bad time. Harry, you look pretty banged up. Are you all right?”
“Far from it, Doc. You got any Advil?”
“Yes, I’ll get you some. Can I get anyone else something? Food? Something to drink?”
“Could I have a soda?” asked Ezra.
“I have some Diet Coke. That okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“And you know what?” said Harry. “I’ll have a drink.” Feeling Geiger’s stare, Harry glanced at him. “What? I quit drinking for the job-and the job’s over, man. You got any bourbon, Doc?”
“I think so.”
“No alcohol for him, Martin,” Geiger said.
“Come on, man-I’m not going on a bender. I just want a drink.”
“No.”
Corley was mesmerized by the exchange. Geiger the interacter. And what else? A protector, too. There was something appreciable to witness here.
Corley turned to Geiger, who was leaning against a wall, staring at something very far away from the room. “Geiger…”
Geiger followed him into the kitchen. Corley turned to him as he came in.
“I need to know what’s going on, Geiger. Especially with you.”
“It’s very complicated.”
“All right, but at least give me the short version for now.”
“Martin, there is no short version.”
Corley listened as Geiger told him the story. It came out in brief sentences, heavily edited, with minimal pauses. The boy was being hunted-never mind by whom. Geiger had rescued him-never mind how. The bad guys were still looking for them-never mind why. Geiger’s plan was to get Ezra back to his mother.
“And something happened to me,” Geiger said. “I had a migraine. And now I’m having… visions. Flashbacks.”
“Of what?”
“My father.” Geiger put a hand up. “The rest will have to wait, Martin. I have to go somewhere.”
“Where?”
“I won’t be long.”
“You’ve brought me into this, Geiger. I really need more information.”
“Right now, what’s best for you is no more information.”
There it was again: the inflection in his speech, the use of emphasis to underline his meaning. Corley marveled at it.
“Martin, you can’t tell anyone what you don’t know. Down the line, if the police were to get involved with-”
“Let’s talk about the police, Geiger. Why don’t we call them? The boy is safe here.”
“Discussing this with the police would not be good for Harry and me.”
Corley’s cheeks puffed out in frustration. “This is unacceptable.”
“I’m going to go now, Martin. I will try to get in touch with Ezra’s mother, and then I’ll see someone, and then I’ll be back. Then we’ll find a way to meet the boy’s mother and that will end it.”
“You have it all worked out?”
“No. But I’m certain I’m going in the right direction. It’s like the dreams, Martin. It feels just like the dreams.”
Corley hesitated at voicing his next thought but decided it had to be said. “You never get to where you’re going in the dream-and you fall apart at the end.”
Corley watched something happen to Geiger’s face; the muscles shifted ever so slightly. He’d never seen it before. It looked almost like an appreciation of a dark irony.
But Geiger said nothing and then walked back into the living room. Corley followed. Lily and Harry were asleep, heads resting against each other at a tilt.
“I’m going out,” Geiger said.
Ezra hopped out of the chair. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to call your mother.”
“Then I’m coming, too.”
“No. You can’t be out on the street.”
“But I don’t want to stay here alone.”
“You’re not alone.”
Corley watched Ezra take three quick steps to Geiger’s side.
“I want to stay with you,” Ezra said. A wet glaze coated his eyes, and he grabbed Geiger’s hand.
“You’ll be all right here,” said Geiger. “Martin’s a good person. I’ll be back soon.” He glanced over his shoulder at Corley.
“It’s okay, Ezra,” said Corley. “If Geiger says he’ll come back, he’ll come back. You know that, right?”
