The Night Gardener

Ramone went to Diego's room, knocked on the door, and pushed it open. Diego was atop the sheets, listening to a Backyard CD on his portable system, keeping the volume low. He was looking through a Don Diva magazine but did not seem to be engaged in it. His eyes were hollow, and it appeared he had been crying. His world had been tilted. It would right itself, but never to the degree of comfort where it had been.

'You okay?'

'I'm blown, Dad.'

'Let's talk some,' said Ramone, pulling a chair over to his son's bed. 'Then you should get to sleep.'

A little while later, Ramone closed Diego's door behind him and walked down the hall to his own bedroom. Regina was in their king, reading a book under the light of a lamp, her head on a doubled pillow. They exchanged a long look, and then Ramone undressed and went to the bathroom, where he washed thoroughly and tried to get the smell of beer and liquor off his breath. He came back to the bed in his boxers and got under the sheets. Regina turned into him and they embraced. He kissed her soft lips once and again, and found himself hard and kissed her with his open mouth. She pushed him gently away.

'What do you think you're doing?' said Regina. 'You getting greedy, going for two in a row.'

'A guy can dream, can't he?'

'You better sleep before you have that dream. Comin in here back-to-back nights with liquor on your breath.'

'That's the mouthwash. It's got alcohol in it.'

'You talking about that mouthwash comes from Dublin?'

'Go ahead, Regina.'

'You and your new drinking buddy, Doc Holiday.'

'He's all right.'

'What's he looking like these days?'

'He's got a little belly on him. They call it the Holiday Hump.'

They embraced again. She fit into him exactly. It was as though they were one person, separated each day, brought back together at night. He couldn't imagine being apart from her, not even in death.

'You smell like booze and cigarettes, like you did when we first started dating,' said Regina. 'When you'd show up at my apartment after last call. What was that place you liked, where all those new wave white girls used to hang out? Constipation?'

'The Constable. That wasn't me. Least it doesn't seem like it today.'

'Now we've got this. And all the challenges that go with it.'

'And the good things, too.'

She had turned off her lamp, and they were in darkness, their eyes slowly adjusting to the absence of light. Ramone brushed his fingers down Regina's arm.

'What are we going to do about Diego?' said Regina.

'I talked to him,' said Ramone. 'He can finish out the year in his old school. It feels right. Next year we can put him in one of the blue-collar Catholic high schools. Carroll, DeMatha… either one of those would be a good place for him.'

'How're we go

'It's not like it's a fortune. I'll sell the house in Silver Spring, I have to. Hell, the dirt alone's worth a bundle. We'll be fine.'

'Did you talk about Asa?'

'Yes.'

'How was Diego with it?'

'His world got rocked. He's probably stressing about all the times he called his friend soft or gay. Not knowing what that kid was going through inside.'

'Can you imagine what it's like to be that way in this climate? Being told all the time that you're not wanted, that there's no place for you in this new compassionate world. All the hate we got out here, and the politicians throwing gasoline on the fire. I don't know what Bible those haters are reading, but it's not the one I was raised on.'

'Forget about those fuckin idiots. What about everyday people who aren't about hate but still spread it? Diego didn't mean anything by those words, but now it's got him thinking hard on what comes out of his mouth. I been thinking on it myself.'

'You and all your friends.'

'You're right. Down at the office we go back and forth with that kinda shit all day. You'd look good in a dress, you've got gaydar… all that.'

'So you go

'Probably not,' said Ramone. 'I'm just a man, no more enlightened than any other. But I am go

'What else you and your son talk about?' said Regina. 'You were in his room a while.'

'I was putting the last piece of the puzzle together on Asa's death. I was pretty sure I knew, but Diego confirmed it.'

'And?'

'You know how I always told him to be aware of any firearms in the homes of his friends?'

'I know. That's your biggest fear.'

'I've seen way too many accidents, Regina. Kids finding their fathers' guns and testing them out.'

'Okay.'

'Diego and his friends just have that knowledge. They read the gun magazines because they're boys and they're interested. The Spriggs twins know I have a Glock and that I keep it locked up. They all know these things.'

'Oh, Gus…'

'Diego says that Asa's father kept a revolver in their home. He didn't know if it was a thirty-eight. But I'm betting that it was.'

'Lord.'

'The ultimate fuck-you to his old man,' said Ramone. 'Asa killed himself with his father's gun.'

She hugged him tightly. They lay in the dark and neither of them could find sleep.

'Will you go to church with us on Sunday?' said Regina.

Ramone said that he would.

CHAPTER 39

After church. Ramone took the family to a restaurant over the District line for lunch. It was family owned and had survived despite the encroachment of the chains into downtown Silver Spring. Diego ordered the Vietnamese steak, his favorite dish, and Alana drank fresh lemonade and walked back and forth through the beaded curtains that led to the restrooms. Church had been much needed, and this was a nice way to continue the afternoon. Also, Ramone was putting off what he knew had to be done.

Back at the house, Ramone stayed in his suit and told Regina he'd be back soon. He dropped Diego, who had changed into shorts, Nikes, and a Ronald Spriggs-designed T, down at the basketball courts on Third, where Shaka was waiting. He instructed Diego to keep his cell on and to call either him or Regina if he went anywhere else. Ramone drove slowly over to the Johnson house. He parked but did not immediately get out of the car. He had told Bill Wilkins that he would update Terrance Johnson on the findings of the case. Now he almost wished he had let Garloo take the lead. He was about to tell Johnson that his son had committed suicide and that he had done so with Terrance's gun. In addition, he had to tell Terrance that Asa was gay. There was no predicting Terrance's reaction. But this needed to be done.

Terrance must have known that his gun was missing, and he had to have suspected that Asa took it. His fear would have been that Asa had been robbed of the gun and shot with it. The death of his son, coupled with extreme feelings of guilt, had shattered him. But even with that, he could not have imagined that Asa had used the gun on himself.

Ramone had not told Wilkins or any of his other coworkers about the gun. If Wilkins were to enter it into his paperwork, Terrance Johnson could be charged with possession of an illegal firearm. Only police officers, federal agents, and special security types were permitted to own handguns in D.C. Johnson had bought the thirty-eight hot or he had been a down-the-chain recipient of a straw purchase originated in Virginia or Maryland. Legally, he was wrong. But Ramone wasn't going to report it. Johnson had enough to live with. There wasn't a point in piling any more misery on him, his wife, and their last living child.

He wasn't going to be entirely forthcoming with Terrance Johnson, either. Ramone had deduced the identity of Asa's older boyfriend, called RoboMan in the journal. Asa's math teacher had said that Asa had come to him for extra-credit work after school the day of his death. But there were no such papers in Asa's locker, book bag, or bedroom. RoboMan had to be a thinly veiled moniker for Robert Bolton. Ramone had found Bolton extremely defensive on the subject of stereotyping young black men when they had their conversation. But he had been defending Asa. Bolton was in love with him.