Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Forgiveness is the only lasting remedy for scars of the soul, and its balm comes not all at once, but moment by moment.
—Thomas Young, Care of the Soul (visiting lecturer to Kings Stratum Forum, Rome, Italy)
In the quiet safety of the Iron Horse greenroom, my friends patiently listened as I searched for the words to tell them about Mama.
“A few years after she left, I figured out how Dad ‘put bread on the table,’ as he liked to say. It helped me make sense of the all-night visitors, the police visits, his and my mother’s fights. All of it.”
“You don’t owe anybody this story,” Chuey said. He knew some of it, of course, but he didn’t know the deeper part.
I shook my head. My friends had put everything on the line, and they deserved to know why the Ward hadn’t accepted me yet.
“Every time Mom and Dad fought, once it was over, Mom came in to stop me from crying. Reassure me. Because every time they fought, she threatened to go.”
“Some men and women are not well yoked,” Cassius observed.
“One night, it got bad. My brothers left the house. I was too small to leave, so I crawled into bed, and pretended to be asleep. The walls and floor shook a few times. I thought this would be it. Everything would break apart. Then it got quiet, and sometime later Mama curled in next to me and wrapped me up in her big arms. Usually she sang to me. Not that night. ‘Dad loves us,’ she said, ‘he’s just a hard man to know.’ ”
Chuey chuckled softly. “Your dad could make black-metal dudes piss themselves.”
I chuckled, too. Chuey had always been there to make me laugh.
But the laughter died fast and I paused.
The next part I’d never shared. Not with anyone.
It was the part that made friends hard to find, and left me amazed when someone actually stuck around in my life.
Even now I wasn’t sure I should say it out loud.
“I rolled over to face Mom. ‘If you ever go away,’ I said, ‘please take me with you.’ She traced the birthmark we share on the back of my neck and said, ‘Kiddo, I promise you one thing—if I ever go away, we’re a pair.’ ” For a moment, I’d felt safe.
“Turned out I didn’t matter enough to her for her to keep that promise. ”
My head filled with the ache of that memory. But I had to finish, and told them about the morning she’d driven away while I screamed at the front-room window for her to come back.
“You dear boy.” Lady finished stitching my neck. “And where did she go?”
“Back then I thought maybe here,” I said. “Her mother was from Hackney. But mostly I just knew she was gone.”
Chuey nodded. “You been carrying that around a long time.”
“Not a day goes by I don’t remember that she broke that promise.
” But it was my dad, too. “I also remember all the stuff I saw and did, living in my father’s house.
More than once I came close to joining my brothers in a Rollin’ 100s street crew .
. . but I’d found metal and along the way started writing songs of my own.
Started wanting to chase the dream, you know, leave something behind that matters.
Something that might help someone else the way the music helped me.
” I tapped the smashed guitar with my toe.
“Anyway, that’s where the song comes from, as much of it as there is.
And I think that’s also where I stopped knowing how to forgive. ”
Church nodded with understanding. “We all do things we come to regret. Perhaps this is also true for your mother.”
Maybe.
Cassius put his big, scarred hand on my shoulder. “Whatever others esteem or disregard, love means putting their happiness before your own. It seems to me, Jack, that this is a truth you already understand well enough. Forgiveness will follow in due course.”
They all nodded to that.
“And your song,” Lady added, “is a beautiful way to try and find some peace with your mother.”
“The Ward said I needed to figure it out before she’ll accept me.” I told them about the soundcheck at Wembley, where I’d begin trying to reconcile with my abandoners, starting with the Hounds.
Lakshmi fingered the crucifix around her neck. I caught a shimmer of sympathy in her shadow on the door. “What matters most is to finish it,” she said. “Your song, I mean. Hank Williams could do it.”
I looked up and saw she was smiling. I think it was the first joke I’d heard her tell.
Chuey grinned. “So, what, she’s a little bit country, and you’re a little bit rock and roll? You two trying to reboot the Osmonds?”
I burst out laughing. Lady and Church, too. Cassius smiled. Even Lakshmi joined in. It felt good after drudging up the past.
“Jack,” said Church, “I’ve taken the liberty of informing the regulars that you’ve received ownership of the Iron Horse.”
Before I could thank him, my phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket—no caller ID. “Hello.”
“Jack, where have you been?” said Emaline.
“Took longer than planned to get the Orcus thread,” I said. The line was silent a moment. “You actually procured Orcus?” “Wasn’t easy.”
“Be careful with it, Jack. Orcus can be fatal to use.”
I chuffed a laugh. “That might have been nice to know up front.
Anyway, what’s up?”
“Your freeboot thanatist goes by the moniker ‘Madam,’ ” she said, “and Brach’s chief seamster, Muybridge, told me that she’s found a way to further collapse the ward.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it is has Brach excited. He’s leaving for the Guildhall in a few minutes to be briefed, which should give me time to search his library for Cython writings on ward creation.”
“Good,” I said. “You get an address for this ‘Madam’?”
“No, but I got a tip that she’ll be at the Cambridge Circus Cinematograph Theatre, Modern Stratum, tomorrow at three. But watch yourself, Jack. Madam is clever and unpredictable.” She hung up.
Topside, the Cinematograph was a derelict theater about a block south down Charing Cross. But I had no idea what shape it would be in in the Strata. I was mostly just glad I had a day to rest—Tin Pan, Rats Castle, the waelcyrge . . . I was beat.
“What was that about?” Lakshmi asked.
I put my phone away. “A couple of nights ago some wonderful folks tried to abduct me, led by a freebooter called ‘Madam.’ But the abduction was interrupted by the wraith that’s been tracking me. This ‘Madam’ tried to net the thing, gave Cassius and me time to escape.”
“Any freebooter experienced enough to take black-market abduction contracts would have been able to see deeper inside the wraith,” Lakshmi observed. “She may be able to tell us something that could help us find it.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” I said. “It’s also possible her crew was hired by Muster Brach.”
“Dear me,” said Lady, “that could prove it was Brach who had you and Henry killed.”
I nodded.
“More than a little surprising,” said Church, “given Henry and Brach’s long friendship. What makes you suspect him?”
“A rumor,” I lied, “from someone close to Brach.”
“I see,” said Church. “Well, even if you believe there’s credence to this claim, proving it may be difficult. Brach is widely recognized as one of thanaturgic society’s brightest arcanists.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” I scrubbed my face, trying to refresh myself. “But if this Madam has information that could help our case against Brach, as well as intel on the wraith, we’ve got to talk to her.”
I looked around at my friends. The last time we’d gone into the Strata together, we’d rushed headlong into a nasty fight.
“I just got a tip on where this Madam is going to be tomorrow. Apparently, she’s also found a way to further collapse the ward.
So, for a host of reasons, I’ve got to check her out. You guys in?”
Nods all around.
“One thing,” I said. “Every time I go into the Strata, memories I’d forgotten get pulled up. Makes for rough sledding. Music helps if there’s some at hand. Just wanted you to be aware.”
My friends all nodded again, then one by one filtered out to eat, rest, drink in the pub. Chuey hung back—he could always sense when I wanted to talk. He handed me one of his pocket-sized caffeine drinks. I slugged it down.
With Wembley still on my mind, I asked, “You ever regret not taking that piano scholarship to Juilliard?”
“Every time I hear you sing,” he said with a laugh. “Nah, man. I’m good. I’m where I want to be.”
I shook my head in disbelief. Not that Chuey had the stones to turn down such a huge opportunity, but that I had a friend like him.
A lot of things had come and gone in my life, but not Chuey.
He made everyone around him better, happier.
He slapped my shoulder and ducked out, leaving me again in the quiet sanctum of the greenroom.
With Chuey’s energy drink in me, I pulled over Henry’s books and started hum-reading again to the tune of “Behind Blue Eyes.” The language of thanaturgy was coming easier to me now, dots connecting.
As much as that, reading the books and being here in the greenroom made me feel close to Henry.
I was actually looking forward to finding Madam tomorrow, hoping she could help me get justice for my friend.