“Yes,” Nina said. Eric nodded.
The teacher stared at them. “He knows things about geology, about space, about, well, about most things, that I don’t know. I sometimes ask him to answer the questions of the other kids. He used to refuse to answer. He’s getting over that. He’s more comfortable with his natural role as a leader.”
A leader. The word expanded Eric’s nostrils; he breathed in the air, electric with promise. He dared not hope his son would escape the generational curse of failure. The brains must come from Nina, Eric thought, so he prayed that self-destruction wouldn’t come from him.
Eric had accepted his defeat a year ago. He continued to work for Joe under the old terms, salary and a cut of commissions. No management fees, no discretion over client’ money. Joe had developed heart trouble over the winter and left each day after lunch, putting Sammy in charge. Once Joe was out of the office, Sammy copied Joe’s manner toward Eric, slipping his feet into his father’s vacant shoes. Sammy treated Eric amiably, but with an undercurrent of contempt. It didn’t matter. Eric earned a hundred and fifty thousand a year, enough to pay the bills. Tom, perhaps out of guilt, had set up a trust fund for Luke. The money would be there for Luke to go through Harvard, or wherever it was that he would end up. As long as Eric’s genes didn’t interfere, Luke would be extraordinary.
Eric didn’t feel bad. He was Luke’s caretaker; he was there to guard the jewel until it went on display for the world to gasp at.
And best of all, Nina was eight months pregnant. Only a month and there would be another. Another chance. And this time Eric wouldn’t be nervous, he wouldn’t doubt it was worth the effort, he wouldn’t allow his own struggles to distract him from the pleasure of watching new life grow in his garden.
Luke was excited. He wanted to try the bike on the street.
“No, let’s get to the park,” Eric said.
“Why?” Luke asked.
“It’s easier to ride at the park,” Barry said. “The pavement is much smoother.”
“It is?” Luke said, and his brain clicked on. Eric saw it happen, knew it was coming. “No, it isn’t. Grandpa. It’s true this is cement and that’s tar, but it isn’t much smoother.”
Eric looked at his father and smiled.
“Well.” Barry tried desperately. “The park has wider streets—”
“No,” Luke began gently. He was forced to contradict grownups a lot and it pained him. It took Nina more than a year to persuade Luke that if he spoke politely, no one would mind being corrected. “No, Grandpa, actually—”
Eric interrupted. “The reason we should try in the park is because it’s your first time and there are people walking around here. If you have trouble controlling the bike, you’ll worry about hitting them. At this hour the park is usually empty and you can concentrate on balancing, you don’t have to worry about steering.”
“I have to worry a little about steering, right?” Luke said, and laughed. “I don’t want to crash into trees.”
“That’s true,” Eric said.
They moved on. Barry was quiet until they were almost at the park. Luke had danced ahead to the corner. Barry whispered in Eric’s ear: “Why did you tell him he might crash into people?”
“I didn’t.”
“That’s why I said it was smoother in the park,” Barry defended himself. “Now he may worry he’ll crash.”
“Dad, Luke knows he may crash. I’m trying to make it clear that’s nothing to worry about.”
“But it is smoother in the park.”
It wasn’t, but Eric let that point pass. Why fight?
When they reached the park, Luke immediately got on his new bike. Eric held it by the underside of the seat. Barry stood ten feet off, half bent over. “Just pedal fast,” he said.
“I’ll hold the bike, Luke,” Eric told him, “until you ask me to let go.”
“Okay,” Luke said, brave and firm and scared.
Eric pushed, keeping his eyes on the little head, aloft on the bike, ready to move on. “Pedal,” Eric prompted.
“Pedal fast,” Barry said.
“I don’t want to,” Luke mumbled.
“Pedal as fast or as slow as you want,” Eric said.
They moved. Luke stayed stiff on the bike, afraid to move, his arms bowed in the air, gripping the handles desperately.
“Just relax and enjoy the ride,” Eric said, huffing and running quickly.
They had passed Barry, who shouted: “Let go of him!”
“Don’t!” Luke begged.
“I won’t until you say I should.”
Eric had to run fast now; it was harder and harder to keep up with his son.
“This is fun,” Luke said. His arms relaxed.
“You can see so many things, can’t you?” Eric said, huffing. They were close to a turn.
“Yes. I’m higher up,” Luke said.
Eric couldn’t stay with Luke. They made the turn onto a downward slope and the bike gained speed. One hand came off the bike, briefly.
“Can I let go, Luke?”
“Sure,” said the happy voice.
But Eric didn’t. He had to run very fast to keep pace with Luke, but he didn’t want to let go, to lose the sight of his son’s open, joyful face.
“Let go, Daddy,” Luke said.
“Okay, I’m gonna let go.”
“Okay,” Luke sang back to him.
“Remember how to stop.”
“I know how to stop,” Luke said, impatient now. “Let go!”
Eric opened his hands and watched his son zoom away.
Eric’s soul went with Luke — released, fast into the world, the figure, erect and proud and little, getting smaller and smaller, farther and farther away.
I leave him in your care, world. He is the best I can do. Take care of him.
“I’m doing it, Daddy!” Luke called back. “Should I stop?”
“When you want to, Luke. Only when you want to.”
The bike wobbled. Luke put his feet on the ground and they skidded. The machine began to tilt. Luke planted his feet hard— and he went over, collapsing into a heap with the bike.
Eric and Barry ran to the fallen Luke. He lay still on the ground.
“Are you okay?”
“My foot is trapped,” Luke said. Barry lifted the bike. Luke got up slowly. He looked betrayed. “I hurt my knee,” he said.
Eric rolled up Luke’s pants. There was a broad patch of skin gone, an angry red rectangle.
Luke winced.
“It’s not bleeding. Do you want to try again?”
“No,” Luke said.
“Oh, you should try right away,” Barry said.