“No.”
“I see.” His gaze drops in thought and he steps into the car.
As the doors close, I shout, “Wait!” and rush to watch glowing numbers descending like a countdown as Josh runs up.
“Nax, who was that?”
“That was the guy I saw on the train.”
“He looked like an older Bennett.”
We lock eyes, knowing well our friend’s past. He never knew his parents, was raised by his father’s sister — The Viper.
“Josh.”
“Let’s go!”
We pound the stairs down eight flights, leaping and missing, gravity on our side. The fire exit shoots us out of it, panting hard as we freeze and search for the ghost of our friend’s past.
“I’ll go this way! You go that way!” Josh takes off east. I run west. Trouble is, Lower Manhattan’s blocks are short and the intersections are many, each with paths that branch off in twisted directions.
I come up empty, swearing under my breath at not having acted sooner, and run back to find Josh racing toward me. He pulls out his phone, “Nothing!” dialing to put our friend on speaker as soon as Bennett answers. “You’re not going to believe this, but we may have just seen your father.”
“It was the guy I saw on the train!”
Silence, then, “What are you two going on about?”
Overlapping, we tell him everything including odd details like, “Why would he ask for you at my house?” and “He remembered me from the train!” and “We chased him down, but he vanished!” but most importantly, “He seemed disappointed.”
When we run out of story, there are a few beats of silence, then comes a sound that doesn’t sound like our friend, one that twists my guts for him. “We’re coming over. I need to hear all of this again. Elliot!” The phone goes dead.
Josh rocks backward. “Nax, what if we’re right?”
“Why didn’t I tell him we knew Bennett!? How could I have been so slow thinking?”
“He had to know!”
“Not necessarily, Josh! If you ask someone if so-and-so lives on your floor, you know your neighbors.”
“But we were together on the train, Nax. When he was watching Bennett!”
“Right. Shit. I forgot that connection. He did know. So…why didn’t he ask me where Bennett lives? I would have told him! Why isn’t he here now? I’d happily tell him, here’s Bennett! He’d love to meet you and see where the fuck you’ve been all his life!”
Josh throws up his arms, “Why didn’t he ask?!!” spinning around at a puzzle with too few pieces to complete. “Let’s go up. Bennett’s gotta be freaking out. I’m going to make some coffee. And if he asks for a beer, tell him no booze right now.”
I nod, “Sharpen the brain. Good idea,” eyes on Josh’s keys as he slides them into the building’s front lock.
The elevator ride feels like forever, and as we step into his corridor, Josh pauses at the expressions on our boys, his apartment’s door wide open, them standing outside of it and worried about where we’d gone. “Forgot to get the mail.”
Will asks, “Where is it?” pointing to hands holding only keys.
“Sunday. I forgot. Oh and Bennett and Elliot are coming over. Thought you might wanna play video games today rather than tomorrow. Sound good?”
They fist-pump, “Yes!” and run inside, with Joe yelling, “I hope he brings the dogs!”
Bennett and Elliot arrive before the coffee is even done brewing, towing along high energy, fluffy havanese dogs named after a combo Elliot wrongly predicted — Tempest and Nax, one black and white, the one named after me tan and beige.
Poor Bennett looks like a tailored tomato. “Elliot, go play. And close Will’s door so the dogs don’t get out.”
My son shouts with an open-mouthed grin, “We can turn the volume up!”
The other two fist-pump, “Yes!” — a new habit, apparently.
With them gone we rehash everything over coffee. Locking eyes with me, Bennett demands, “Why didn’t you tell me about him on the train?!”
I pull my cup closer, scraping the bottom along the table. “It didn’t hit me. I thought maybe he was looking at his lost youth.”
Benny growls, “His lost youth?!”
“A younger guy in his prime with his friends, shooting the shit.” Off of Bennett’s anger, I explain, “Redheads aren’t common, Benny, you know that! It’s feasible he was looking at the commonality alone. How could I have known he might be your dad? You never met him! He’s never in my mind!”
A long exhale, and Bennett lowers his gaze. “I probably wouldn’t have recognized the possibility either.”
Leaning back in my chair with self-disgust, I say, “I’m sorry, I am. I should’ve stopped him in the hallway. My reflexes were too slow. It was so hard to believe.”
“You tried to stop him,” Josh reminds me.
“Should’ve tried harder! What now?”
Bennett’s forehead knots up, jaw ticking with anger as he stares at untouched coffee. “My entire life I wondered where my parents were. Why they left me. Would I ever see them. On holidays, my birthday, every year I thought maybe they’d show up. Surprise me. Use that as an entrance back into my life. Save me from The Viper.” Yanking the mug to his lips, he takes a gulp and drops it again, splashing some. “Never happened.”
We stay at the dining table as Bennett rises to stare out a window at Manhattan, voice strangled. “He’s out there now, isn’t he? My father is here in New York. And he’s looking for me.”
Joe walks out of the bedroom, blue eyes locking onto Bennett’s back before cutting to us, pace slowing at the tension we can’t hide. “Dad?”
“Everything’s okay,” I smile. “Just adult stuff.”
“What?”
“Nothing. What’d you need?”
“Juice?”
“I’ll get you some.” He follows me to the fridge, glancing back to Bennett as I snatch a carton of apple juice and grab three cups, stacking them. “Need chips?” I hand him a clipped bag, see the worry in his eyes. “Everything’s okay, Joe,
