The Weight of Him(69)

In a couple of months, on November 19, they would have to endure what would have been Michael’s eighteenth birthday. Already, the boy was gone eight months. It didn’t seem possible. Time had warped and sometimes it seemed they had lost him just yesterday. Other times it seemed so long ago. They’d already survived the first day without him, the first week, first month, and the first football championship final, but they had yet to endure his first birthday with him gone, the first Christmas and New Year’s, and his first anniversary. Everyone said things would get easier with time, especially after they’d survived all the firsts, but that brought up another kind of pain.

“Maybe it won’t be as bad as we think,” Tricia said. She crossed the room, lifted her handbag off the bed, and walked out, leaving Billy alone.

*

The afternoon was overcast, but at least the rain was holding off. Tricia had traveled up to Dublin with Billy’s mother, while he had driven the three children. Billy’s mother never failed to join them for the children’s birthdays, which was more than his father or Lisa ever did. He had to give her that much. The two women stood at the zoo’s entrance, amid the colorful mill of people and the convoy of baby strollers all rushing inside. Tricia and his mother searched the crowd of oncomers, looking impatient. They had obviously made better time on the road and had found easier parking than Billy.

Anna called out and raced toward her mother and grandmother. Billy reached the women, flanked by John and Ivor. He’d managed to avoid his mother ever since his profile was published, and she looked his shrinking body up and down, unable to hide her surprise. His hand flew to his stomach, realizing it didn’t hurt the way it normally would after a long drive. He fit so much better in the car, in everything, now. Yet he had almost missed the hard press of the steering wheel during the journey, a constant for years.

“Sorry, hope you weren’t waiting long,” he said. The shock remained on his mother’s face, but she made no comment. He knew she wouldn’t remark, either, on the growing media attention he was getting. Unless it was to criticize. Hundreds of donations were flooding in online and in the post, bringing the running tally of promised funds to eleven thousand five hundred and ninety-eight euro. Billy’s followers on Twitter and friends on Facebook also continued to climb, as did the visitors to his website. All this from strangers, and nothing from his own parents. His temper pressed on the back of his face, as if trying to get at his mother.

One by one, the six Brennans moved through the entrance turnstile, John looking livid. He hadn’t wanted to come, but Billy and Tricia had insisted, stopping short of reminding him that Ivor was now his one and only brother. As if by silent agreement, the six walked straight to the lion exhibit. There, Billy read the dull brass plaques, searching for the name of the male cub born shortly before Michael’s tenth birthday. Tricia appeared next to him, also reading, also searching. There was no mention of an eight-year-old male. Billy studied the five lions lazing about the dirt, wondering.

“Remember the time we were here for Michael’s birthday and the zoo ran that contest to name the newborn cub? What names did we come up with at all?” She gave a little laugh. “They didn’t use any of them anyway.”

John walked away. When he didn’t return, Billy followed him. John’s face looked achy and the edges of his eyes were red. “Michael wanted to name the cub Mikewali and I wanted to call him Johnwali.” His face crumpled. Billy squeezed John’s shoulder, unsure if the boy would want any contact. John suddenly laughed through the glint of tears. “Mikewali and Johnwali.” Billy also sad-laughed.

When they turned around to rejoin the others, Billy reluctantly let go of John’s shoulder. Tricia watched, her expression tender.

They studied the zoo’s map, trying to decide which exhibit to visit next.

“Let’s go see the gorillas,” Ivor said.

“Sounds like a plan.” Billy curled the map into a cylinder. Memories of paper telescopes cut at him. He had to stop his thoughts from going to Michael. This was Ivor’s day. A happy occasion.

They arrived at the gorilla habitat, all the Brennans but Billy licking ice-cream cones. The giant silverback, eating on a leafy dark-green stalk, seemed to stare right at Billy. Two smaller, female gorillas sat close by the silverback, each chewing on a blade of straw.

The silverback stirred, and started on the prowl, moving toward the two females. He grunted and trembled, his entire body vibrating. Billy studied the animal’s massiveness, marveling at the enormity of his head, shoulders, arms, stomach, and behind. Billy was almost as big, but without any of the grandeur. One of the females moved off, looking back over her shoulder every few seconds as the male gave chase.

“There’s going to be a fight,” Ivor said, nervously.

“Awful-looking things,” Billy’s mother said. “Let’s find something nicer to look at.”

John protested, saying he wanted to watch the gorillas fight.

Anna’s fist rubbed at her eye, her blond hair limp and dampened with sweat, her upper lip marked with an ice-cream mustache. “I don’t want to see another fight,” she said, quietly. “I’ve seen enough of those.”

Billy’s mother looked from him to Tricia, her brow furrowed. He kept looking at the gorillas, his expression blank. In his periphery he checked Tricia, wondering if she’d felt a similar dart of guilt. She remained intent on the gorillas, her face not giving anything away.