At the library desk, as Radix walked in, Dr. Balleret and Judy Wiener
looked up and smiled, as if happy at that moment to see him. "There he is,
the man's everyone's been asking for," Dr. Balleret announced. There was a
brightness in her eyes he'd come to interpret as danger signals. He nodded
and looked at Judy Wiener, wondering what the excitement was about.
"Did you hear?" she said. Heard what? "Xavier died over the weekend." The
shock and disbelief must have showed on his face. They watched him
closely and, since it was apparent he hadn't heard, they seemed to be
measuring the impact the news had on him. He simply repeated the word
Died? and waited to be be told what happened.
Dr. Balleret tried to relieve the shock by saying next: "I knew him by his full
name, Malcolm Xavier Haltaufauderhude. He didn't come here often, but
when he did I'd say to him, Malcolm Xavier Haltaufauderhude, to what do
we owe the pleasure of your company? And he'd say…" (she stiffened her
back and raised her bony arms in an effort to dramatize Xavier's manner)
"…all puffed up with pride, or maybe he was upset about something, I
don't owe you no book, Miss Balleret. Just a little game we played
whenever he showed up, which wasn't too regular. He was such a pleasant
young man when you got to know him. He gave me no trouble." And Judy
Wiener said, "We knew him only as Xavier. He was a hard worker."
By then Radix had sufficiently recovered from the first news impact. His
eyes fastened on Judy Wiener's face.
He couldn't understand her apparent nonchalance. This after all was
shattering news. This was Xavier they were talking about. Her Xavier.
They'd been to the hospital to visit him, Judy Wiener and Radix. Not Dr.
Balleret. Surely there was more to be said between them, some expression
of sorrow; not this idle chatter in the library.
Dr. Balleret now wondered if there was sufficient time to make a public
announcement, during the homeroom class break. She found a ballpoint in
a drawer and began taking down particulars from Judy Wiener; and Radix
drifted off to find a work desk. He half-expected Judy Wiener to come over
when she was done, but she didn't.
Dr. Balleret made the brief announcement about Xavier, but to many it
sounded like old news. Those who knew him had heard already about his
death. Most students and teachers didn't know who he was; his name
sounded foreign, and in any event he was from Special Education.
Later in the teacher's cafeteria he saw Judy Wiener again, eating heartily,
and deep in conversation with a plump teacher who moved food to her
mouth with practiced speed and pleasure. He stopped at the table, still
thinking they needed to say something more to each other about what had
happened.
She looked up, her face cheerful and serene; she gave him a bright "Hi".
He shook his head and by way of broaching the subject said, "So, what a
shame this had to happen." She shook her head, catching his meaning: "Yes,
isn't it terrible? Isn't it terrible?"
She put down her fork and turned in her chair to him, as if to pass on
information of a confidential nature. Still poised to moved on and sit
elsewhere, he leaned forward.
And in a voice just above a whisper she said, "I only found out about it this
morning, from the kids in class." Radix opened his eyes, amazed. "That's
how I heard he'd died. One of the kids told me." She seemed unhappy
about that. "But didn't his mother contact you?" he asked. Judy Wiener
shook her head, as if very disappointed.
It became clearer to Radix. Xavier's mother had not called Xavier's teacher
at John Wayne Cotter to let her know her student had died.
She dabbed her lips with a paper napkin, and looked hard at Radix as if to
say, How could she do something like that? I should have been the first in
the building to hear about this. And Radix shrugged his shoulders,
suggesting, Yes, that's strange. There must be some explanation.
"Anyway, the funeral is set for tomorrow morning, so I was told. Are you
going?'
"I don't know. Tomorrow morning? While we're in classrooms?"
"You can arrange for someone to cover your class…it shouldn't be a
problem…talk to you later."
Radix moved away. He'd seen the first twitches of sadness on her face. He
heard a little crack in her voice, like something lurking in her throat,
working to subvert her. It sounded like the Judy Wiener he knew.
(from "Ah Mikhail, O Fidel!", a novel by N.D.Williams, 2001)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 