Chapter 19 8

8 He made up his mind: he was going to confront Aaliyah and demand that she tell him all about his father's death.For sixteen years he had longed to speak to her of the forbidden name: Dirk Burnaby.He wanted his mother to speak very softly and lovingly about his father.He was rehearsing what he might say to his mother: "Alia, you loved him. You can't hate him. He's your husband. Our father!" But as Chandler drove to his Baltic Avenue home and waited on the front porch for Aaliyah to finish her piano lessons, his mood softened.Or rather he lost his nerve.A Saturday night in late April.The weather was unseasonably mild, a bit unseasonable for the Niagara Falls region.Chandler sat on the steps, patted Sayo who had seen him cheer, and scratched the old dog behind the ears.At the back of the house, in Alia's music room, someone was playing "Morning" from Grieg's Pierre King Suite.Chandler listened, fascinated.Not Alia, but a student playing.The student played vigorously, a talented but poorly trained pianist.Most of Alia's students are in their teens.Sometimes Chandler would overhear Aaliyah joking with the students, and he would get a little jealous.Had Alia ever relaxed so freely in his presence?Every time she saw Chandler, she seemed to restrain herself.Reflexively, she would reach out to straighten his collar and re-button his shirt.She would straighten Sayu's upturned hair the same way she smoothed Sayu's curls.She would sigh, "Chandler, what shall I say about you?"

Chandler always thought that Aaliyah hadn't loved him.Even recently he was thinking: She loves Sayu. Sayo was a dying puppy that Dirk Burnaby had brought home. Chandler absently stroked the back of Sayo's ear, which made him gasp and writhe in excitement.His eyes were bright brown and full of emotion. "You love us all, don't you? Never ask why." Chandler hugged the shivering dog, burying his face in his soft fur.Sayu's heartbeat began to speed up and his breathing became short of breath.Chandler felt drained, as he had been since Mayweather's suicide: the shot, and the silence that followed.

Chandler was (almost) thinking: Am I hurt? No doubt, in this moment of frenzy, he lowered his eyes to look at himself.He touched his head and hair instinctively.Police and crisis workers can't help but act like this.No, I shouldn't.Not this time. Was he waiting for Al Mayweather to shoot him through the broken window?It's a way of killing yourself.Don't ask why. Grieg's piece, which was played very quickly, broke off suddenly without ending.There was a pause, and then another piano player started over.This time it is the teacher playing, showing the students how to play this joke.Every note is played very hard and very precisely.The music flows and spreads in the hearts of the listeners.But Chandler finds the music bothersome.

You weep for Dirk Burnaby in private, don't you?Yet children were forbidden to cry for him.You have lied to us when it comes to grief. Juliet must have placed the clay pots with geraniums on the veranda rail.It was Juliet who had repainted the old, uncomfortable wooden chair in the hallway a dull gray.There are rain-washed cushions on chairs that are rarely occupied.In Baltic Street people always sat in the verandahs in the warm weather and sometimes ate and drank late at night, with the exception of Aaliyah Burnaby.For her, such behavior is very "banal" - "vulgar".

Nothing scares Alia more than "those strangers know about our family." It’s ironic that Alia lives a reclusive life, going to great lengths to protect her privacy, yet she stands out more than most of the neighborhood’s inhabitants.Chandler guessed that anyone of any age knew whose widow she was, and everyone had an idea of ​​Dirk Burnaby.But there is something touching in Chandler's mother's pride.She refuses to be humble, "ordinary".In 16 years, she did not visit her neighbors or even thank them for taking care of her children while she was in the hospital.It was just Alia who wrote the formal thank-you note on expensive cream-yellow stationery and asked Juliet to deliver it to the neighbors.She rarely accepted invitations from the parents of her most gifted students, and vehemently disapproved of children having meals with them, let alone spending evenings with friends.Her proclamation was: "We are poor, but we never need handouts." Then, in the exasperated tone that children can learn, "I was self-sufficient before marriage, and I will be the same after marriage."

Lied to us in terms of grief.Why? Chandler thought of his grandmother Littrell and the other relatives he hadn't seen before, and never saw again, who had come to Niagara Falls to be with Alia in her bereavement.These well-meaning people, all women of course, wanted Alia to come back to Troy with them, the place they thought she "belonged."Why on earth was Alia staying in Niagara Falls? She didn't like the Burnabys, and they obviously didn't like her either.She doesn't really have many friends here, and she's not very well known as a music teacher.Her kids also just grew up near the haunted waterfall...her home and loved ones are in Troy.

But Alia said quietly, "No, my home and my children's home is here." Alia played the piano as if it were life—very smooth, crisp, sharp, beautiful.Allegro, allegro - bright music flowing down from her fingertips.She can also play the solemn allegro, and she can play the quiet pieces with equal adeptness.When she played a wrong note, the fingers would move so quickly that the listener could not be sure what was heard. Sayu broke free from Chandler's arms and ran to the sidewalk to say hello to another dog.It belonged to a man with stiff knees, a disfigured face, and eyes like raw eggs. "Sayu! Good evening," the man greeted it in accented English.The two dogs clearly know each other well, smelling each other, rubbing each other and looking very excited.Sayu cried, for him, this was a rare occurrence.Although not small, Sayu was always optimistic and willing to believe in the good in other dogs.His tail was wagging like a pendulum, and his eyes were full of affection.Aaliyah calls Sayu an alter ego—everything that is good, sentimental, and soft-hearted in her is best reflected in Sayu.

The visiting dog was a setter mongrel with a shaggy coat the color of dull crimson shoe polish, wet eyes and a left hind leg that looked like it was useless, but he too was wagging his tail happily, full of joy . "You know Sayo?" Chandler asked the man with the tragic eyes.The man nodded solemnly, a little shy. "Yes. Very familiar. Hugo and I are very familiar, Sayo's mistress, is your mother? Very familiar too." Chandler's eyes widened suddenly.hostess?Mother? It was the first time he had heard of his mother befriending a neighbor. In the room, the piano movement is flying like a happy bird.

The man with the heavy accent said uncertainly, "I'm Joseph Pankowski, and you're Chandler, aren't you? You're a science teacher, Alia said. Sometimes I stand here Listening to music, on warm evenings, with your windows open. Your mother is a wonderful pianist, and it gives me pleasure to hear her music. So beautiful..." Pangoski wore a tasteful black coat, a twill serge jacket that set his thin shoulders loose.And black trousers, baggy but not baggy.His shoes are also shiny black and have an unusual texture.He was probably in his early 50s, of medium build, and looked once strong.His face, which made Chandler look uncomfortable, was stitched together.His skull arched a lump beneath his scalp.He was breathing heavily and messily.Chandler was baffled by the pain in his moist, wandering eyes, but then thought: He was trying to impress me.her son.

Alia's friend was a Polish Jew who had been born in Warsaw's Vilna ghetto and immigrated to the United States in 1946.He was also a musician, but hadn't played the piano for several years.Fingers and nerves are no longer fit for playing.Pangoski stared at his fingers, trying to move them.Hugo the setter tugged on the leash so hard that he nearly broke free and ran away. Chandler couldn't help but wonder what happened: 1946?But he knew better not to ask.One can guess how the man survived. "The first time I heard your mother play Chopin's Mazurka was at this place in June last year. Hugo and I happened to pass by, and we stopped and couldn't walk. Later , not that night, but another time, we heard your sister sing, Schumann's Myrtle, of course, we don't know yet, don't know who is so gifted. 'Juliet' - a from Shakespeare The name of the play, a shy girl with such a lovely contralto. But of course you know all this, because she's your sister."

Chandler frowned, not really knowing much. A few years ago when Juliet was just a baby, Alia wanted to train her voice, just as she tried to train Royall.But Aaliyah is too demanding, and the sessions end in tears and hurt feelings.Chandler knew that Juliet sang in the high school girls' choir and often soloed.But she didn't know that Juliet had sung for Alia. Out of politeness, Chandler asked Pankowski if he lived nearby, and the old man said awkwardly, "Not too close, but not too far." His crowded face flushed.Alya's piano playing stopped so abruptly that Pankowski looked eager to go.He stammered: "Please send my sincere regards to your mother, thank you, and good night!" Pankowski walked away, knees stiff, holding Hugo by the leash.The elderly setter reluctantly follows its owner, looking back at Sayu.Sayu barked from time to time like clockwork. Chandler thought: He's in love with her, God forbid. When Chandler asked Aaliyah about Joseph Pankowski, she looked embarrassed. "Oh, him. A cobbler." Aaliyah attempted a mocking tone, but couldn't meet Chandler's eyes. "We sometimes go to summer concerts in the park. He's a widower. His kids are grown and gone." Aaliyah pauses, as if to say the same about my kids.Chandler said, "Well, he seems like a really nice guy. Cultured. He played the violin in the past, and he admires your piano playing very much." Alia smiled contemptuously, "He told me all about his life. You, don't you? People who are too lonely tend to talk a lot." She frowned and walked to a corner of the house with a hint of contempt, as if she was going into an infinite space. "He was in Birkenau. He can never change that fact. He has an inscription on his left wrist. He's wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but you can still see it." Alia paused, rubbing herself With a slender wrist, "I think such tattoos can be removed if we work hard." Chandler objected, "Removing the tattoo will hurt, Aaliyah. Maybe it can't be done." "I'll do it," Aaliyah said vehemently. The mother and child were short of breath as if they were arguing.What's the noise?for what?Chandler's mind flashed back to an argument he had had, years ago, when he had sneaked into the kitchen and Alia, without warning, had thrown a fit and called him a spy. spy? Aaliyah deflected Chandler's question about Joseph Pankowski and started asking him about his "married girlfriend."Chandler said he hadn't seen or contacted Melinda in 22 days. Alia was surprised. "22 days! You're still counting." "It wasn't on purpose, Mom." Alia wondered what she should say.Normally she would not mention Melinda, except sometimes in a veiled way.It's like referring to a vaguely dangerous state, such as an economic downturn, a precursor to the Asian flu.She said, "I know she's a good woman, a nurse. It would be nice to have a nurse in the house! But she's older than you, isn't she? And she's divorced. In that unsatisfactory state, her husband is in Left her before the child was born!" Chandler was well aware that it was best not to shield Melinda from her mother, and many times he said, "Yeah, but they got married too early. It was a mistake." Are you a threat? Aaliyah continued, frowning, "If she's going to break friends, I respect her judgment. She's much more mature than you. I understand why she's jealous of your 'crisis center' job. It's a weird thing to have a big husband, especially if the man is immature. Royall and Candace — that's the result of a mismatch." Chandler smiled. "Mismatch? You introduced it, Aaliyah. You made it happen." Alia smiled, her face flushed and slightly hot.She liked her sons teasing her; now that Royall was gone, Chandler had to. "Well. Your mother made mistakes too. She's human too!" Also just people, which is really news to Chandler. Later, when Chandler was leaving, Aaliyah was in a good mood.He had the audacity to propose driving to the Big Island. "I talked to Aunts Clarice and Sylvia." "'My aunt.' isn't that close. When did those nasty snobs become 'your aunt?'" Alia said quietly, as if confused. "Aunt Clarice told me some very strange things—" "I know." "she told me--" Alia put her hands to her ears. "Don't accuse me of credulity, Chandler. I'd like to believe that that wicked old hag would tell you some very strange things in secret." Alia smiled, or tried to.Chandler hesitated.How could he ask his mother if she was married twice?Did her first husband commit suicide by jumping off a waterfall?This is completely impossible.Not only is it impossible, it is even unthinkable.It's like a long time ago when people were talking about the great falls, the romance, the doom, the last century. Impulsively he said, "Mom, am I—is it—Daddy and your son? I mean—I'm not adopted, am I?" "Adopted! How could you say that." Chandler didn't want to talk about adoption.He hesitated, not knowing what to say. Alia stroked Chandler's wrist, trying to comfort him.Her eyes, sparkling with anger for a moment, softened quickly.In a low, earnest voice, she said, "Of course you weren't adopted, honey. You were born here, in Niagara Falls, in the hospital. You saw your birth certificate, and it must have been It's over. What the hell are you talking about, Chandler? You weren't born easily. I was born in 11 hours and 12 minutes. I remember it well. It's impossible for a mother to forget this, especially the first baby. You are — you're my firstborn," Alia said emphatically, and she took Chandler's arm as if he disagreed. "Those will never change." "Then my father—" "Let's not talk about him. He's gone." "My father is Dirk Burnaby." Alia closed her eyes, her body stiffened a little.Her lips were tightly shut, shrunk to the size of a snail.A lock of her hair was loose and messy around her neck.Chandler took a deep breath, as if winning a battle.In this house, in front of his mother, he finally said the name Dirk Burnaby. "He died in an accident, didn't he? Was it ruled an accident?" Alia didn't answer, and Chandler mustered up the courage to ask, "What about Dad's life insurance, if it's an accident? What about his will? It must be rich." Alia pressed her fingertips to her eyelids.Chandler sensed her nervousness before she spoke. "I can't accept it. I can't take money that has been tainted in exchange for blood." Chandler had to think for a moment to understand her words, what exactly did Alia say? She spoke quickly, nervously, as if rehearsing words countless times, and Chandler felt the edges of his vision begin to blacken and shrink. "They wanted me to accept the money, his lawyers, even his family. But, I refused. I had to. Not because of pride, I'm not a proud person. When he left, I put and all the Burnabys shut the door of their hearts." Chandler doesn't believe what Aaliyah said.Even if he can calmly think: Of course, I know, it must be so. "Mom, what? How much did you 'reject'?" "I did sell that house. That weird house, the flashy place, had to sell. So we moved here. We're happy here, aren't we? Four of us. And Sayo, a little family." "Oh, Mom." "Well, don't we? We live honestly. What a life in America"—Ariah tried to find the word, and it appealed to Chandler—"Survival of self-respect. Oh, and I use Some money, from the sale of the house. Always have some money in the bank, small, but for emergencies, if you have three kids, and no one. God knows how to help you. I want you to leave That kind of life, Burnaby's life. Whatever we've had before, it's our own," Arya argued. "And we're happy, aren't we?" "How much did you turn down?" "I don't know. Don't want to know. Don't want to be seduced, Chandler. For my part, I hope you will too." The Burnabys who had lived in poverty for so many years in the Baltic neighborhood.Chandler smiled incredulously.Will he do the same? "Won't." "Oh, Chandler. Sure you will. I knew Burnaby's money was tainted before the Love Canal case." "'Pollution'! Alya, you look like a character in a grand opera, not in real life. This is Niagara Falls, this is life. God, all the money is polluted." "No. You, as a public school teacher, are expected to have higher moral standards." "Actually, you want to punish him. Dirk Burnaby. To deny him money is to punish us. Like, he'll see it in his grave and feel ashamed." "No, it's a matter of principle. From my standpoint, you would do the same. Tell me, Chandler, yes." At this moment, Chandler's head began to ache violently.He felt the clinical symptoms again, his field of vision narrowed, like being at the scene of a crisis rescue.tubular vision.It's a symptom of panic, controlled panic. "Mom, I'm leaving." At this moment, Juliet came back from taking care of the children at the neighbor's house.She came down the stairs quietly and knowingly like a wildcat, with a vague greeting, as if she understood that her mother would wave her away so as not to interfere with her conversation with her son in the kitchen. Chandler staggered to his feet.Try to imagine the fact that I'm her son and the rest doesn't matter.He hugged Aaliyah, feeling that she was thin, thin as tinsel.He felt her skin burn as he kissed her goodnight.He wanted to say that he would call and come to see her after class tomorrow, but the words were stuck in his throat and he couldn't speak.In fact, his knees were sore.Alia followed him to the front door and stopped him in a low, little girlish voice in the hall, "Honey, tell me 'yes.' You will." Before getting into the car, Chandler looked back nonchalantly, as if it was just a trivial matter, and had nothing to do with the millions of dollars that made him dizzy just thinking about it, "Oh, Mom, Of course. You know me." He will never understand his mother.Although he didn't understand, he had to love her. Mom brushes Dad's wrists with a wire brush.The two of them stayed upstairs in the old house in Luna Park, their first house.There, Chandler was their only child.Mom was a little excited and anxious.Dad's face was blurry, but the features could be seen twisted together.Chandler, who was still a child, crouched in the doorway, slowly crawled closer, and hid from the eyes of adults at the corner of the bed.It was a carved mahogany heart bed.The room was filled with lights, which were harsh but dim.It's hard to see.Can't see the man's face, but he knows it's Dad.Mom was still brushing the bleeding wrist with the wire brush because something on the skin offended her.A few drops of blood rained into the air, and some fell on Chandler.He sobbed, trying to wrest the wire brush from his mother's strong hand, and in the struggle he awoke, dizzy and exhausted.