Stories: All-New Tales

“What do you mean, me?”

At that moment the washing machine that had been chugging along in the background chose to ping and stop. Ava went silent and didn’t look like she was going to answer my question anytime soon. I made a face and walked across the room to get the laundry. Opening the door to the machine, I bent down to pull the wet wash out.

“Ava?”

“What?”

“Your washing machine is full of letters.” I pulled out a large white wet K and laid it across my palm. After looking at it, I held it up for her to see. About ten inches long, it appeared to be made of wet cloth. I looked in the machine again and saw that instead of clothes, it was full of a droopy pile of wet capital block letters.

Ava did not seem surprised. In fact, she nodded when I held up the K.

“I put them in there.”

“You put them—where’s our laundry?”

“In the bathroom.”

“But why? Why did you do that? What are they? What are they for?”

“Take out four more. Don’t look at which ones—just reach in and take out four. I’ll tell you why when you’re done.”

I wanted to say something but didn’t. Reaching into the washing machine, I plunged my hand into the large, soft, wet heap of cloth letters like I was choosing numbers for bingo. When I had four, Ava told me to lay them out together on the floor so that they spelled something. The letters were K, V, Q, R, and O.

“They can’t spell anything because there’s only one vowel.”

She was far enough away so she couldn’t see what they were. “Tell me which ones you chose.”

“K, V, Q, R, and O.”

She slapped both hands down on her lap. “Those were the same letters Eamon chose.”

“What? Eamon did this too? You also had him take wet letters out of the washing machine?” I realized my voice was way up there, close to shouting.

“Yes, it was a test for both of you. I knew what the answer was going to be, but I had to do it anyway.” The tone of her voice said this was no big deal—why was I making such a fuss?

A test using wet letters from the washing machine? Eamon had done it too? The silent child. A Yit. A curse. For the first time in all the years I had known her, I looked at Ava now like she might be the enemy.

“DO YOU THINK AVA’S CRAZY?”

“Of course she’s crazy. Why do you think I left her?”

“You left her? She said it was just the opposite—she left you.”

Eamon snorted and pulled his earlobe. “Do you know the saying—never fall in love with a psychiatrist because they’re the craziest people of all? Well, let me amend that to war correspondents too. Never fall in love with a war correspondent either. They’ve seen too many really bad things. All that pain and death gets into their bones and screws up their heads. Ava’s gyroscope is bent, man.

“Did she tell you her story about the silent child? Is that why you’re here?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He picked up his vodka and took a sip as if he already knew what I’d say. “That was all right. It was a mad thing, but at least it was entertaining. It was a really good story. But then came those letters in the washing machine, and then the frozen animals—”

“What frozen animals?”

He slapped my shoulder. “She hasn’t done that to you yet? Ah, more surprises in store for you there, pal! The longer you hang out with Ava, the funner she gets. I left after the frozen animals. That was it for me. Phew.”

“But what if the child really is yours?”

Eamon put his chin in his hand and looked at the floor. “Then I’ll do everything I can to make sure Ava and the baby are comfortable and well cared for. But I won’t live with that woman. Nope. She’s as crazy as they come.” He spoke calmly and with resolution. He’d obviously thought all this through and was now at peace with his decisions.

“But wait, Eamon. Just for a minute imagine that what she said was true is true. What if you are the father, and the kid is cursed to live your life?”

“Nothing’s the matter with my life. I have a good one.”

“What about your father and the things he did to your family?”

“Yes, that stuff was terrible, but I don’t plan on doing the same things to my family if I end up having one someday.” He smiled at me. “I also don’t have a pilot’s license, so you don’t have to worry that I’m going to fly over Ava’s house and dive-bomb it.

“And by the way, what about your dad? Was he a good man? What if you’re the father of her kid? Does she have anything to worry about with you?”

“I never knew my father. He left my mother when I was two.”

“Well, there you go! I’m sorry to hear that, but in a way it means you could be more dangerous than me if there really is a curse. Because you don’t know what kind of guy your father was, or is. He could be much worse than my old man.”

We looked at each other and our silence said we agreed on what he had just said.

Eamon chuckled and shook his head. “Poor Ava—in a worst-case scenario, if that curse is true, she may be doomed either way: me with my monster dad, and you with your mystery dad who could be Jack the Ripper.”

I said weakly, “But maybe my father’s a great guy.”

“Great guys don’t abandon their families.”

“You abandoned Ava.”

His voice dropped to a low grumble. “She’s not my family. I never said I wanted to be a father.”

Sometimes people say things, often inadvertently, that make up your mind for you. The moment after Eamon said he didn’t want to be a father, it clicked in my mind that I did want to be the father to Ava’s child—more than anything else in the world. It was as simple as that. I loved her and yearned to be her partner for the rest of my life if she’d have me. I didn’t care if her child was Eamon’s and I didn’t care if there was a curse. Most important, I didn’t even care if Ava Malcolm was as crazy as a fly in a jar. I wanted to be with her and would do anything to make that happen.

When I told Eamon that, he raised one arm and crossed the air with it, as if he were a priest giving me a blessing. “I don’t know if you’re an idiot, a masochist, or the greatest guy on earth. You know people don’t get better as we get older—we just get more of who we are. If Ava’s crazy now, she’s only going to get crazier.”