Coconut Dreams

by Derek Mascarenhas

  Vito grabbed Parker by his yellow coat and lifted him up against the portable wall so that his feet dangled. Parker squirmed but couldn’t get free. Vito was so much taller and heavier that it was hard to believe they were the same age.

  Vito punched the space next to Parker’s head, rattling the metal wall.

  I thought about running and getting help, but someone would see me.

  Parker swung his legs, kicking as hard as he could, but Vito held him with both hands and shoved his back against the wall two times.

  “Stop,” Parker pleaded, tears pooling in his eyes. “That hurts.”

  “Hey, homo, you think I care?”

  Once more, Mom’s voice came to me, and I almost blurted out her words.

  Vito shoved him again, with even more force than before.

  Tears rolled down Parker’s face. “It’s not fair!” he screamed.

  For a second I felt like I might cry, too, but I held it back. God wasn’t going do anything. He didn’t care, because He didn’t exist—if He did, He wouldn’t allow such things to happen.

  “Vito,” I said, surprised by my own voice. “You made him cry. What more do you want?”

  Vito looked at me over his shoulder, gave Parker a last shake, and threw him to the ground. Then he turned to me. “You want to be next?”

  Vito’s gaze sent a chill through my body. “No,” I said, and held my breath. I wanted to turn and run, but stayed standing there.

  I heard someone shout, “Principal!”

  The other boys scattered, but Vito held his ground.

  In those last few moments, I was the only one who saw it all. I saw Parker’s clenched jaw and how quickly he was breathing. I saw the rock in his hand and how tightly he gripped it. I saw the fire in his eyes as he raised his arm back. I saw it all, and I stopped believing.

  1999

  Snapshots

  The first snow day of the year was February first. In the front foyer, Ally tried to pull her purple snow pants up high enough to clip on the straps, but the suspenders were tight on her shoulders and the elastic bottoms fit tightly above her ankles. She’d noticed her growth spurt the week before, on her twelfth birthday, when her dad was marking her height behind her bedroom door.

  “Let’s go, Ally. Johnny’s already on the hill,” said Aiden. “You’re lucky I promised Mom I’d take you with me.”

  “These don’t fit anymore.” Ally slid her legs back out and plopped the padded pants on the floor. “I’m just going to go change.”

  “Okay. I’ll go grab the Crazy Carpets from the garage.” Ally noticed Aiden’s voice had started to sound deeper, like her dad’s, and sometimes it slipped into a high, embarrassing squeak.

  In her room, Ally tossed the jeans she’d been wearing onto the bed. She took a pair of grey jogging pants out of the dresser and hurried to put them on; it was cold in just her undies. Her hair was still wet against the back of her neck from the shower. Ally liked her showers piping hot. If she could, she would stay in until thick steam covered the mirrors. But she’d been the last one in the family to shower that morning and the water was lukewarm. She came out shivering, goosebumps on her arms and legs.

  From the top of her dresser, Ally grabbed the camera her dad had given her. It was the Life Brand disposable one he’d taken to India. There were six pictures left and he’d said she could take them before he developed the roll.

  As Ally walked back downstairs, she felt another shiver creep up her back. She put a hand to her forehead but couldn’t tell if she had a fever. Her stomach had been hurting the past few days, but she hadn’t been able to tell her mom or dad. They’d been busy with doctor appointments, and work, and getting ready for another mouth to feed.

  Aiden came back in from the garage with two blue plastic Crazy Carpets.

  “Do you know if Pearl is coming?” Ally asked, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Aiden said he wasn’t sure.

  Ally paused at the hallway mirror when she saw her reflection. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and ran a hand through her hair.

  “Trying to look good for Johnny?” Aiden asked.

  Ally ran to the door and pointed the camera at him.

  Click.

  He wrapped a Crazy Carpet around her, tightened the roll, and shook her gently. “You take so long to get ready.”

  “No, I don’t.” Ally could only see blue and the ceiling, and it smelled like plastic. She pushed free, put on her coat, and stuffed the camera in the front pocket. It was Aiden’s old coat—a boy-coloured blue one that she floated inside. The arms were too long and the coat reached down over her waist. She couldn’t wear her purple coat because her wrists stuck out. Her mom had said they’d buy a new one next year but she’d have to make do for the rest of the winter.

  The wind was whistling outside as she wiggled her feet into her boots.

  “Got everything?” Aiden asked.

  “Just need to get my gloves.” Rather than taking off her boots, she crawled across the living room carpet to the heating vent where she’d left her gloves to dry. They stood upright with the fingers touching, like two hands in prayer.

  She slid her fingers into the toasty gloves and looked up at the framed picture above their couch. The coconut trees and sunny beach seemed so far away, but whenever Ally looked at that picture, a small place inside her felt warm.

  Their mom had sat them below the picture last week to tell them she was pregnant again—a surprise this time. It was one year after she’d had a miscarriage, and Ally couldn’t help feeling scared her mom might lose this one, too.

  “Ally! I’m going,” Aiden called.

  Ally crawled back and got to her feet just as Aiden opened the front door a crack. A gust of cold air carried snow into the house like a swarm of insects. He shut the door and his excited eyes met hers. She flipped up the hood of her jacket.

  Aiden flung open the door. They both rushed outside, and he pulled the door shut behind them.

  Beyond Johnny’s backyard was a narrow creek at the bottom of a steep valley; on top of the opposite slope was a fence that separated the valley from a field.

  The creek had frozen over, so they could slide down either side of the hill carefree. They did a few runs down both sides of the hill before resting at the top by Johnny’s backyard. Johnny wore a long blue toque that reminded Ally of the hats the seven dwarfs wore. He would definitely be Dopey with his big ears and rosy cheeks.

  “Where’s Pearl?” Ally asked Johnny.

  “Babysitting,” he said, his breath forming clouds in the air, like he was smoking.

  “On a snow day?”

  “The Bradleys’ baby is teething, so she went to help.”

  “Dad told me he used to dip his finger in a bottle of fenny and rub it on our gums when we were babies,” said Aiden.

  Ally had heard this, too, but she couldn’t remember him doing it. Teeth slicing through gums sounded painful. Maybe it was better to have it happen early.

  “What’s fenny?” Johnny asked.

  “Some kind of alcohol made from cashews.”

  “Mrs. Bradley would never do that with her baby,” Johnny said.

  “It works, though,” said Aiden.

  “And maybe if Mrs. Bradley did,” said Ally, “then Pearl could come out and play.”

  Ally wondered if her dad would use fenny on her new brother or sister’s teeth, or if he would have for the sister they’d lost. Afterward, her mom had stayed in bed for a long time. Except for cutting off her long hair, she eventually went almost back to normal. Ally didn’t know how she kept going. When she asked, her mom said, “Because we have to. The world keeps turning.” Ally was worried it might happen again, but her mom told her all they can do is pray and hope for the best.

  “Look, you can barely see our tracks on the hills.” Aiden point
ed. Snowflakes dotted his red scarf and eyelashes.

  “I hope the snow doesn’t stop falling,” said Johnny. “I want it piled up to here.” He made a mark in the air with his hand, well above his toque.

  “Think we’ll still get many snow days in high school?” Aiden asked.

  “I think so. I can’t wait.”

  “You’re lucky you don’t have to wear a uniform.”

  “But your school has a better field.”

  With Aiden, Johnny, and Pearl all going to high school next year, Ally felt left behind. She wanted things to stay the way they were. That’s why she liked pictures so much—they didn’t change.

  She pulled her knees close to her chest and her sled slid away before she could grab it. The sled looked like a raft carried away on a fast-moving river as it skimmed down the hill without a rider. It bounced once on the creek ice and hit the opposite snowbank.

  This inspired the boys to build a jump. As they started down the hill, Aiden looked back. “You coming, Ally?”

  “I’m going to take some pictures.”

  They continued down the hill and began to pack snow into a mound where the empty sled had jumped on its own.

  Ally pulled out the camera from her coat pocket. She had watched a National Geographic program a few days before about a photographer who took pictures of lions in the Serengeti. Ally loved to look through the stacks of old magazines they had in their basement. One of the photographer’s lion photos had made the cover of the magazine’s latest issue; the photo was of lionesses making a kill, the yellow fur on their faces and the yellow grass around them dark with blood. Ally wondered what it was like to take a bite of a Thomson’s gazelle—maybe she’d like the warm, wet taste of raw meat.

  She took the glove off her right hand and turned the dial on the camera until a five replaced the six. There was a bird feeder in Johnny’s backyard with icicles hanging down the sides. The National Geographic photographer had explained that he waits for the moment the earth stands still, then takes the picture. She centred the bird feeder in the camera’s viewfinder, but the earth wouldn’t stop moving: the wind flared up and snowflakes melted on her bare hand and cheeks. After a few minutes of holding the camera against her face with one eye closed, she gave up.

  Click.

  Right after she took the picture, she felt a strange feeling in her stomach—not like she was going to throw up, but a deeper pain below her belly button. She sucked in her breath and it went away just as quickly as it came.

  Ally was going to go sit down again but she heard Aiden calling her. He stood about three-quarters of the way up the hill with Johnny’s saucer-like toboggan in his hands.

  “Take one of me going off the jump,” he hollered.

  She walked down the hill and positioned herself next to the jump.

  Aiden sat down and pushed off. He slid down with little speed, yet still got some air off the jump. She tried to take the picture right when he was in the air, but the button wouldn’t press down.

  “I forgot to turn the dial.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll go again.”

  This time Aiden went from the top of the hill, giving a slight push off again. He held the saucer like a flying carpet in the air.

  Click.

  “Did you get me?” Aiden asked, before he even came to a stop.

  “Got you!”

  “Take one of me next.” Johnny climbed to the top of the hill. He took a running start, sliding the saucer underneath his knees at the last second, like a coaster under a mug. When he reached the jump, he flew much higher and farther than Aiden, and the saucer separated from his body mid-air. For a split second it was as if Johnny and the saucer were floating.

  Click.

  Johnny landed on his butt with a thud. Ally thought for sure he was hurt.

  After a few seconds, he looked up and said, “That was awesome!” He collected the saucer and held it out to Ally. “Go try it.”

  “I don’t think I should. My stomach isn’t feeling right.”

  “Come on, Ally, don’t be scared. I can take your picture,” said Aiden.

  “I only have two pictures left.” She turned the camera’s dial and put it back in her coat pocket.

  “Fine,” said Aiden.

  “Do you know what we should do?” Johnny asked. “Make another jump on the other hill.”

  “Yeah, and then go down at the same time.”

  Ally imagined them crashing into one another on the frozen creek—boys were silly sometimes. “Aiden, I’m going to the field to take the last pictures.”

  “Okay. Just don’t go far past the fence.”

  Ally climbed the other side of the hill and walked to a section of the fence where the ground dipped, and she could crawl underneath. She dug out some snow, lay down flat, and dragged herself below the fence’s crisscrossed teeth.

  The snow was deeper on the other side. Untouched. With each step, she sank up to her knees. The wind had calmed, and the snowflakes fell larger and more slowly than before. Suddenly hot, Ally unzipped Aiden’s old coat. She stuck her tongue out and let a few snowflakes land and melt.

  She stopped before a small spruce tree about half her height. Its branches were piled heavy with snow, like each was just about to bend and let its load drop. In the distance, two huge evergreens towered over the field like snow-covered giants. Ally took her camera from her pocket and lay down in front of the sapling. She found all three trees in the viewfinder, with the young evergreen in between the two older ones. She felt like she was inside a snow globe.

  Click.

  Maybe that would have been the shot the National Geographic photographer would take, she thought—if he could have fit under the fence.

  Ally tried to turn the dial to take another one, but it stuck between zero and one. End of the roll. She returned the camera to her pocket and lay there for a moment, breathing the winter air.

  It was then she felt a warm flow. She sat up on her knees to see a dark bloodstain growing on her jogging pants. The red had stained some of the white snow where she’d been lying. The sight of blood coming from her was terrifying, and she thought at first she might be dying. Then she realized what it was, but couldn’t believe it was happening right there and then.

  Snowflakes kept falling all around her, but they seemed motionless. It was peaceful yet scary, like she was the only one left on the planet. Ally stayed stuck like this for a little while, but when she felt a shiver, it brought her back to where she was. She zipped Aiden’s old coat back up, now thankful that it went down below her waist and hid the stain. She retraced her steps in the snow and crawled back under the fence. She didn’t look back.

  “Do you want some hot chocolate?” Aiden asked as he closed the front door behind them.

  Their mom usually made them a cup whenever they came in from the cold. Ally wished her mom was there now. She thought about calling her but wanted to change her clothes first. “No. I think I’m going to go have a shower to warm up.”

  Ally kicked off her boots but kept her coat on so Aiden wouldn’t see. Instead of putting her gloves on the heater, she tossed them to the floor. Her nose was running as she climbed the stairs to the bathroom, but she was more worried that blood might stain the carpet.

  The water from the tap roared. Ally tested it with two fingers first. The water was hot, not just lukewarm, and it stung her fingers, still cold from the outdoors. She undressed and put her stained clothes in a pile beside the scale, unsure of what to do with them. She pulled the lever for the shower and stepped into the tub.

  As the steam rose, she saw red in the water at her feet; it swirled and mixed with the falling water before being carried down the drain in a tiny stream. She realized how constant the pain had been only when the shower’s heat relieved it. Ally wanted to stay a kid. She wasn’t ready to be a woman. Being a woman meant
she could have a baby. And lose a baby.

  She stayed in the shower until her fingers and toes were wrinkled, and when she got out, the steam had fogged up the room. She dried off with a dark green towel. As she wrapped it around herself, she heard Aiden knock on the door.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled. Ally stared at the towels hanging from the closed door and held hers a little tighter. “Can you bring me the phone? I need to call Mom.”

  Waiting for Aiden to come back, she put the toilet seat down and stepped on top with her bare feet to see out the small window above. She wiped away the condensation; the snow outside had finally stopped falling and everything seemed peaceful again. Eventually she would have to leave the bathroom and return to the world, but she didn’t want to yet. As Ally stepped down, she slipped on the closed seat and landed on it with her bum. It hurt everywhere.

  When she got up, she tried to look at herself in the mirror, but it was fogged up, too, and she could only see a blurry outline of her body.

  Grand Opening

  Aiden and I ate kielbasa and crackers in the car while our dad took his time in the mall. I was still upset with him for missing my soccer game, but at least we had a snack. With the windows down and our seat belts off, we took bites from the same coil of kielbasa, doing our best not to get cracker crumbs on the back seat. I wasn’t the most careful cracker eater and had to brush crumbs from my summer dress and the blue vinyl seat down to the floor mat.

  “Do you know where we’re going today?” I asked Aiden.

  Aiden took two crackers out of the sleeve. “Down by the bay. Where the watermelons grow.”

  I continued the song we’d learned at camp a few years ago. “Back to our home, we dare not go, for if we do, our mother would say…”