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By Root 451 0

open, I collapsed my umbrella and saw that it had begun to rain inside. I would have to lie down and die to describe the quality of rain as it drifted down from the Oculus, that perfect round hole in the ceiling. Typically, Thad’s a little distressed by rain. But Tommy took his hand and slowly pulled him toward the centermost point of the room, whispering gently to him the whole time. I have been in buildings with leaky roofs, lived in a couple of those when Allison was between husbands, but I had never been in a building designed to invite the rain in, and if it isn’t overreaching I’d say it was miraculous standing there like that. I took Thad’s other hand and we let the rain pour down.

Looking up toward the Oculus Tommy said, —Isn’t this the best thing that’s ever happened to you?

It’s not often that Thad looks directly into your eyes. So you know that something’s coming when he does. He stared for a long time into Tommy’s wet face and finally said, —You have a year left.

Unlike the hard liquor of his predictions that get no mixes or sodas to soften them, Thad said with unusual generosity, —I’ll miss you, Tommy.

And in that rarest of rare moments, Thad began to cry.

I swear it wasn’t just the rain. And Tommy had a look, as if he were trying to read his own obituary in four-point type. He made an effort to smile, to comfort his stepson. Then Thad hiccupped loudly. Funny how I’d forgotten most of this until now. Of course I’d never taken to writing down all the predictions, though maybe I should have. And sometimes forgetting can be the best way to keep from getting depressed. Although some people take this concept too far and then they think the Holocaust should disappear before their sick little eyes. If you try to forget too much, those buried memories work like worms in your brain, eating up your psyche.

Tommy kissed Thad on the top of his head and said, —So let’s have a hell of a good time while we can.

When Thad’s hiccups came in quick openmouthed bursts we had to leave the Pantheon. We were just cracking ourselves up, and quickly found Thad a large limonade, which cured everything. Neither Tommy nor I talked about what Thad had said and then we were swept up in a crowd and pretty soon Tommy was signing autographs and I snapped pictures with a lot of other people’s cameras and phones so they could all get into shots with Tommy. He got stopped a lot on the streets of Rome and recognized in museums, and asked to sign gelato cups and backs of knees and straw wrappers. He was pretty popular over there because they knew him as the real thing and not some guy in America waving a plastic sword around, rapping about the glory of Rome. It didn’t hurt of course that his mother was half Italian. And there were, among the little crowds that gathered, many women.

We had a beautiful hotel near the Spanish Steps. I shared a room with Thad, and Tommy and Allison were by themselves in another, of course. There was one morning when Tommy was feeling under the weather and the rest of us had gone off to Palazzo Borghese, where we were scheduled to take a tour. We had gone early to enjoy the park and hoped to wind Thad down a bit before entering the museum. When we realized Allison had left the tickets in the room, I volunteered to take a taxi back to the hotel so we could make the tour on time.

I figured Tommy was asleep when I arrived at the hotel because I had to knock three times. Finally he came to the door, but opened it only a crack. The smell of drugs wafted my way.

—We forgot the tickets, I said.

His eyes were bloodshot and he looked apologetic and half-witted. Busted for doing one of those things he kept telling me never to do.

—It’s all right, I shrugged. —I don’t care.

—All right? he said, looking confused.

—People at school smoke.

Then the sound of running water started up. The kind of pounding water that fills a tub in a hurry.

—How did you do that? I said, but I was already starting to get it.

—Do what?

—Oh, I don’t know. Start the water in your tub while you’re standing here not letting me into your room?