The Museum of Desire: An Alex Delaware Novel(67)

“I’m being truthful. Mother. In the current situation, all of us being adolescents, there’s zero probability I’d act out.”

I said, “But?”

“Three of us on a deserted island together, enough food for only one? Or two? I’d do my best to survive.”

Haley said, “That’s a fantasy, Crispin. Give them reality. Please.”

“Then excluding fantasy, there’s no probability of harm. I attempted to arouse them because they—he, actually, not she—was acting out against me verbally.”

I said, “Shirin was okay.”

“Neutral,” said Crispin. “No hostility, no expression of support. I included her because she’s meaningful to him and I wanted to strike at his core.”

Sudden, lopsided smile. “Apparently, I’ve succeeded.”

Haley said, “You have, Crispin, but you need to stop.”

Long silence. She wrung her hands.

Crispin said, “Okay.”

Milo said, “Okay what?”

“I’ll stop.”

“Completely.”

“That’s what stop means, Milo Bernard Sturgis comma Lieutenant. There’s no rheostat, it’s either or.”

“Good.”

“Not good or bad,” said Crispin. “Reality. There’ll be no need for you to return and worry Haley. I won’t be going back there.”

“To Beverly Hills High School?”

“Honey, I thought we agreed you’d try to—”

“Circumstances have changed, Haley. It hasn’t been positive and is unlikely to become positive. I can learn more by myself.”

“But the counselor said Harvard and Yale—”

“The counselor went to Pitzer,” said Crispin, sneering. “I’ll follow my own judgment.”

He looked at Milo. “No need to come back and cause her stress, M.B.S. comma L.”

Milo said, “If you don’t give us reason to come back we won’t.”

The boy held up a hand. “Promise-pledge-swear. If it makes you feel better, bring me a holy book and I’ll place my hand on it.”

“Are you religious?”

“I believe in belief.”

“So no more threats?”

“Nary a one.” The boy smiled at his own phrasing. “Nary.” As if tasting the word. “Nary more scary.”

Milo said, “Fair enough,” and extended his hand.

Crispin said, “We already did that but all right.” This time he was the first to let go.

“Thanks, Crispin.”

“For what?”

“Talking to us.”

“I talk to people. I’m not a robot.” Leveling the purplish eyes at his mother.

She said, “Of course, honey.”

Another condescending smile aimed her way.

We turned to leave.

Crispin said, “They pretend to be adults but they’re not.”

“Who?”

“He and she, the party people. They pretended the party was all theirs but they were lying, it wasn’t.”

I said, “How do you know?”

“After they barred my entry I planned to conduct a commemoration of the confrontations. I walked over there and saw parents so I knew I didn’t have to bother.”

Haley Moman said, “You went over there? Ohmigod.”

Crispin said, “Don’t waste anxiety on events that didn’t occur.”

Milo said, “What were you planning to do?”

The boy’s lopsided smile reappeared and grew, filling the entire span of his lips. Gradually, as if joy were a gas that could inflate tissue.

Haley said, “Do I want to know this?”

“No, but they do,” said Crispin. “The plan was to deposit a large bowel movement on the property. At the entrance where stepping in it was most likely.”

His mother gasped.

Crispin flashed a V-sign. “I brought toilet paper and was going to also leave the used portions. Then I saw the parents and realized the plan should be aborted because they were liars and barring me had been a false gesture of dominance. So why bother donating my body chemistry to insignificant ants?”

“Oh, Jesus.” Haley hung her head.

I said, “How many parents did you see?”

“A mother and a father.”

“You knew they were parents because…”

“They weren’t adolescents. Their shape was adult, they walked with adult confidence and drove off.”

“Did you see their car?”

“It was dark,” said Crispin. “I heard it so it was there. Then it wasn’t because they left.”

“Did you hear these people say anything?”

“No.”

“Which way did they go?”

“North.”

“When did this happen, Crispin?”

“Exactly Saturday, exactly two fifty-eight a.m.”

Haley said, “You left the house at three in the morning?”

“I do it when I can’t sleep.”

“Oh, Crispin—”

“You take your Lunesta and he takes his Ambien. You know what I think about medication, Haley.”