Page 65 of Theo of Golden

“Please, sir,” Theo said, “you don’t understand. I only wanted —”

“Oh, I understand. Believe me, I understand. Some sick old man is trying to hit on my girlfriend. You pervert. You’re the one who don’t understand.”

Theo held up a hand, palm out, as if trying to hush a crowd.

“Hey, Cleave, is something wrong?” a voice asked.

Torber turned.

The question had come from Derrick Prentiss. He had been in court that day and was dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and burgundy necktie. He and Torber were acquaintances. Both had grown up in Golden.

“Yeah, there’s something wrong. I’m glad you’re here. This old man is a predator or something, and he was trying to meet with Clarise behind my back. I ought to have him arrested. Can I have him arrested?”

Derrick waved off the suggestion. “Cleave, I know this gentleman and I can assure you, he’s not doing anything wrong. Just cool down. Go on home. You know you can’t afford to get in any more trouble.”

Torber stepped back from the bench and turned to Derrick. “You need to warn him to mind his own business!”

Derrick nodded. Years in the DA’s office had taught him that silence was often the best response to anger.

Theo rose from the bench and addressed his accuser with remarkable composure. “Please, sir.” He held out the portrait as a peace offering. It was still wrapped in brown paper. “Sir, I’m very sorry. I did not mean to upset you. Would you please give this to Ms. Clarise for me?”

Torber snatched the picture. “Here’s what I’ll do for Ms. Clarise.”

He took the portrait and slammed it to the ground at his feet. Glass broke inside the brown paper. Torber stomped the portrait twice and then ground it beneath the heel of his boot, his eyes fixed on Theo. “You and yo’ damn picture.”

Passersby slowed down and gawked at the argument in process.

Derrick considered calling the police but refrained. He was about to speak when Theo, horror-stricken at the sacrilege he had just witnessed, straightened up to his full stature and stepped toward Torber. The old man’s lips went bloodless with rage, and his eyes matched the ferocity in Torber’s face, measure for measure.

Derrick thrust himself between the two men and put a hand on Theo’s shoulder to hold him in place. Then he turned to Torber. “Leave. Now! Go!”

Theo spit his own words at Torber, leaning around Derrick to do so. “You are a disgrace. You are a pig of a human, a disgrace. Idiota! Babaca! Filho da puta! How dare you? How dare you? How dare you? Damn you, filho da puta!”

The desecration of the portrait had awakened and infuriated a sleeping bear.

Cleave Torber was across Broadway before Theo’s bilingual outburst subsided.

“He’s gone, Mr. Theo. You gonna be OK?” Derrick took his hand off Theo’s shoulder.

Trembling, the old man took a deep breath. Then another. “Yes, I’m fine. But what a shame. What a disgrace. Just look.” His words were hurried and clipped as he stared at the ground.

Derrick bent down and picked up the remains of the portrait. Broken glass rattled like coins inside the wrapping paper. Theo received it as if it were the corpse of a small animal. He shook his head and clenched his jaw in disgust.

Another deep breath, in and out. And then, clearly befuddled, Theo turned and looked intently at Derrick. “Forgive me, sir, but… do I know you?”

“Well, sort of. My name is Derrick Prentiss. A few weeks ago, you gave a portrait to my wife, Minnette. I was sitting right over there the whole time y’all talked.” He pointed to the bench on the far side of the fountain. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I’ve been hoping I might get to thank you someday. You made quite an impression on my wife. She still talks about you.”

Theo groaned. “I will be terribly embarrassed if you tell her about the impression I just made on you. My ugly, angry self. Forgive me, please.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’d say you had good reason to be angry. Minnette and I both grew up knowing that guy. His name is Cleave Torber. He’s always been a hothead and a bully. His temper and jealousy have gotten him in lots of trouble before. Our DA’s office is real familiar with Mr. Torber. I don’t know why on earth any woman would put up with him.”

Derrick looked at the crumpled mess in Theo’s hands. “I’m afraid he’s ruined the portrait.” Theo shook his head and tsked.

“Uncle Asher could do another one of her, but it might be better for Clarise if her picture’s not on the wall.”

Theo agreed.

“Mr. Theo, you be careful. I know your intentions are good, but some folks might not understand your kindness.”