Code Name: Whatever

by Emily Asad

  Chapter 18: A Valentine Discovery

  Statistic: When describing their current dating partners, 82% of young adults whose parents had divorced indicated that they did not fully trust their partner.

  Statistic: Studies have shown that children of divorce are far more likely to be delinquent, engage in premarital sex, and bear children out of wedlock during adolescence and young adulthood.

  The first week in February was extremely busy for us. All four of our pregnant livestock gave birth to their babies within a matter of days. My goat only had one kid, but Erika’s goat and the sheep all had twins. Seven baby animals filled the barn.

  The livestock were not the only ones having babies. Erika was pregnant, and would be due in July. At first, Roger was furious and couldn't understand how it had happened. Erika was surprisingly mature for her age and took his anger with great patience. When he had calmed down, she announced that she was moving in with her mother. Margaret, not to be outdone, also decided to move out of our house. Within a week they were both gone.

  The changes were so sudden that I barely had time to process them. I knew that both Erika and Margaret had been unhappy at our place, but I thought it was just because it was their first divorce. Apparently it affected Erika more deeply than I had suspected. I wanted to talk to her, or tell her that I knew how miserable she was, or something. But we never really saw each other, even when she was still living with us.

  Margaret had taken care to be as invisible as possible to the point that we barely noticed she was gone. The only real adjustment was that I was given care of her rabbits as well as Erika’s goat. It was no big addition to my chores; my own brothers and Becky had been neglecting their animals for months. I was the one feeding, watering, and exercising all the animals in the barn. I suppose I could have tattled, but their absence ensured my solitude and strengthened my claims on the barn as my special sanctuary.

  I did wonder how Erika was going to manage school, however, especially now that she was pregnant. Most other girls just dropped out. I wasn't the only one who was concerned with her education, either. I overheard two of her teachers gossiping about her in the hallway.

  “It’s too bad about that Shenton girl,” one of them said.

  “Yes, but it’s not surprising. Her parents are divorced, you know.”

  “I know. I just hate to see it happen. She’s really a good kid. At least, she was until this past year.”

  “Don’t parents learn anything? You’d think they’d pay a little more attention to their kids.”

  “Or their marriages… Well, there goes another victim of statistics. I suppose she’s started drinking and smoking, too.”

  I wanted to yell at them for talking about my stepsister in that casual, irreverent manner, but I passed them instead. It was true that Erika liked to drink. Even Matt, who now worked in the evenings, found time to drown his woes in a beer or two. He had also started smoking, having picked up that habit from his co-workers at the restaurant.

  What made me angriest, however, was the fact that such behavior was expected. Those teachers had wondered why parents never learned anything, but my quarrel was that the kids themselves never learned. How could we, as teenagers, always be so blind? Let the stupid adults make their stupid mistakes! Let them all be selfish and immature, forgetting why they got married in the first place! Never mind that love is about taking care of the other person, even more than your own self; a noble and brave undertaking! The way of divorced people is to forget and grow selfish, which leads to a downward spiral of utter failure. And then they pass their failures on to their innocent offspring, who turn to their parents as role models.

  As for me, I would never be like that!

  When I reached my locker, my hands were clenched so hard into little fists that the knuckles had turned white. Their conversation about Erika was about me, too. It was personal. I was expected to fail. I was expected to get pregnant, get drunk frequently, and become addicted to cigarettes and possibly drugs. I was expected to graduate with a high school diploma and never go on to college. I was expected to be divorced myself, if ever I got married, and probably I would be married two or three times before finally getting it right. My children were expected to follow the pattern - that everlasting negative circle of failure from which only a few ever broke free – and they would pass it on to their children.

  No! I would not be a statistic! Erika might have fallen already, and Matt was working on it, but I had my List.

  It was early in the morning. I was glad that I was heading for study hall, because my stomach was knotted tightly and I didn’t think I could concentrate on classes. After study hall would be lunch, followed by choir, and then my gym class. By then, I was sure that my mind would be clear enough to make it through English. And there were always the baby goats and sheep waiting to be cuddled. Gallant Rose would want to be exercised. And Mouser, up in the hay loft, waited for me with her kitten.

  Thinking about my animals made me feel much better. Unfortunately, I wasn't watching where I was going. Just outside the choir room, on my way to the gym, I tripped over my own shoelace and whacked my knee into the radiator.

  With a sigh, I knelt down tie my laces and rub my poor knee. Just what I needed.

  Naomi’s voice echoed off the walls from inside the choir room. The door was open. She was upset about something.

  “But the banquet is today! We’ve been scheduled for weeks!”

  “I don’t know what to do. Kayla has laryngitis. You’ll have to go without an alto section.”

  “But my dad has been bragging to the Kiwanis about our four part harmony. We can’t perform with just three.”

  “So find somebody else,” said Mrs. Crofton. “Surely somebody knows the songs. Have you tried Beverly? She’s very good with harmony. She’s a fast learner.”

  I heard Naomi snort. “She can’t read sheet music. She’ll never learn in time. We have to be there in two hours.”

  “She doesn’t need sheet music to learn the songs. She only has to hear her part once and she’s got it. Why don’t you go find her and see if she’s available?”

  I edged closer to the open door to hear the response.

  “She won’t want to. I know she’ll refuse.”

  Mrs. Crofton was quiet for a few seconds. Then her voice grew hard. “I don’t know what quarrel you two have with each other, but you need to put it behind you. The Kiwanis donate a lot of money to this choir, and I expect my Chamber Singers to do their best for them. It’s a pride issue for me as well as you. Find Beverly. She’ll be happy to sing with you.”

  So. That’s what was wrong. Tonya, one of the altos who made it to Chamber Singers, was sick and couldn’t sing for today’s banquet – and Naomi was too proud to ask me for help. I smirked an evil smile. I could let her come to me and beg, or I could be noble about the situation…

  With a sigh, I chose the right action. I knocked on the door to let them know I was there.

  “Did you have a minute? I wanted to check out some sheet music for regionals,” I said, looking at Mrs. Crofton. “Oh, hey, Naomi. What’s up.”

  “Beverly! I’m glad you dropped by,” said Mrs. Crofton. “Naomi has something to ask you.”

  Naomi pressed her lips together. I could tell that she was trying to regain her composure. “Tonya has laryngitis and we have a Kiwanis banquet today. Do you know the songs that the Chamber Singers have been working on?”

  I shrugged. “No.”

  She looked at Mrs. Crofton in despair.

  “What are you doing right now?” Mrs. Crofton asked.

  “I have study hall, but I usually go help Miss Bjornson with the juggling unit.”

  “Can you skip juggling today and work with Naomi on some songs? The banquet starts in a few hours. I can excuse you from your other classes.”

  “I don’t really have any other classes. After study hall I have lunch, and then choir, and then my own gym class. English is my last cour
se of the day.”

  Mrs. Crofton smiled. “That’s perfect. You’ve already passed your gym class, right? Miss Bjornson can spare you for a few hours?”

  I shrugged. “Sure. Let me go tell her.”

  When I returned, Naomi had the music set up in the practice room. “This is so stupid,” she muttered. “You’re never going to learn in time.”

  “Give me a chance,” I said patiently. “Why don’t you sing the soprano line so I can hear what it’s supposed to sound like.”

  She shook her head but began to play the song on the piano. I watched the words, not the notes, and listened to the way the chords intertwined with each other. When she finished, I said, “Now play it again and tell me where I’m wrong.”

  “You can’t possibly know it already,” she hissed.

  “Not the words, no. The tune, yes. Try me.”

  She played the song again and sang her part. I joined in on the alto harmony. Not to brag, but I was flawless.

  Her expression lost its hostility. “You figured that out from listening to my part?"

  I shrugged.

  She continued to stare at me. "I can’t believe you can do that.”

  “Why? Because I sound like I swallowed a cricket, or because Mrs. Crofton only let me into A Cappella because she pitied me?”

  Naomi recognized her own words, even though they were months old. She looked down at the piano keys and swallowed.

  I pressed my point. “Some things don’t need to be taught. It’s true that I can’t read music. I wish I could.” Suddenly, confessions started spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You don’t know how much I envy you. I wish I could afford piano lessons and voice lessons, like you. Heck, I even wish my hair would lay nice and straight like yours!”

  I think I embarrassed her, because she did not say anything. She blinked a lot, though. The moment grew uncomfortable, so I pulled out the second song. “Show me how this one goes?”

  I learned six new songs within an hour, and had the words memorized too. Since the Chamber Singer costumes were kept in Mrs. Crofton’s office and Tonya and I were the same size, I had no trouble finding a robe that fit me. The other Chamber Singers were a little hesitant to accept me into their intimate little group. Once we started singing, however, they relaxed to the point of smiling at me from time to time. The banquet was a success.

  We returned to school just as choir class was ending. As I finished changing into my regular clothes, Naomi took my robe and hung it up. “You saved our butts today,” she said. “Don’t expect anything more than that, though.”

  “I don’t. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to join you. It was like a dream come true.”

  “I didn’t give you anything,” she mumbled, but it seemed more of an automatic contradiction than a heartfelt argument.

  Suddenly, I felt sorry for her. If she was a statistic, the way Darcy had said, then she had to be even more miserable than I was. She was so used to being mean to other people that she couldn't enjoy the world around her. Suddenly, her insults lost their sting. I realized that I didn't have anything to fear from Naomi any more.

  The juggling unit came to a close on Valentine’s Day. I was surprised to discover that I was sad about that. The past six weeks had brought me closer to my classmates than the previous ten years combined. I had been in their faces, correcting, instructing, praising. It amazed me to find that they weren't as judgmental as I had imagined. They actually looked up to me and admired my skill. It was a refreshing change. Part of it was raw talent, I thought, but I also realized that I had made a change in myself. I had been forced to talk to them, which let them discover that I wasn't as stupid as they thought. Plus, a little bit of makeup and hairspray went a long way. Those six weeks had built a good deal of self-confidence in me.

  “So this is it, huh?” asked Luke.

  “Yeah, until next year. Miss Bjornson asked me to come back and help teach the next group of sophomores.”

  “Are you going to check the foyer to see if you got a Valentine?”

  “What for? Nobody would send me anything, except maybe my parents, and they don’t do cards or flowers.”

  “You should check, just in case.”

  “And humiliate myself? I’d rather not. Hand me that bag, will you?”

  He held it open while I gathered all the juggling equipment. “Why are you putting everything away? I thought you taught another class after this one.”

  “They tested yesterday. They’ll be playing badminton today.”

  “So you’re free for lunch.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I suppose so.”

  He grinned. “I guess you’re going to spend it juggling on the landing, then.”

  “What else would I do? I have nowhere else to go.”

  He helped me carry the heavy bag downstairs and lock it in Miss Bjornson’s closet. “You should really check the Valentine table.”

  “There’s nothing there,” I replied, but his insistence made me curious.

  Just before the bell rang, the third set of announcements came over the loudspeakers. There had been so many Valentines that the principal had been forced to make frequent reports as to who had what, and please come pick them up. I was shocked to hear my name. “Sidney Johnson, Beverly Shenton, Erik Frank…”

  “Hey, there’s your name!” said Luke.

  I frowned. “It must be a joke of some sort.”

  “Well, I’m gonna be here for a while. You should go see what it is. Then come back and pass with me. I’ve gotten pretty good at passing.”

  “Okay. Keep some clubs out for me, then.” As I approached the foyer where all the Valentines were set out in alphabetical order on the tables, I wondered if I couldn’t have heard the announcement wrong. No, because Luke had heard my name, too. It wasn’t just my imagination.

  I waited in line, trying to guess who could have given me a Valentine. I overheard some other girls while I was waiting.

  “Oh, look, Michelle! Derek sent you some flowers! And Chris gave you some roses. That’s so sweet.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Neither of them have a chance. They’re not my type.” Her arms were already loaded with chocolates, teddy bears, and balloons. She struggled to scoop her other gifts into her arms. Her friend had to help her, even though her own arms were overflowing with trinkets of adoration.

  I shook my head. How could anyone be so callous and jaded? Here I was, receiving my first Valentine, and it felt good. Even if it was from my parents, as I suspected.

  I took a step forward and gave my name to the senior running the table. He looked through the list, found my name, and handed me my valentine.

  It was a little clown teddy bear, dressed in red and white hearts, and he was juggling. The card was anonymous but read “From your secret admirer.”

  My family never would have written that. It had to be Luke!

  I could not suppress my smile. The juggling bear was cuter than any other stuffed animal on the entire table. I hurried back to the landing, where I knew Luke would be waiting for me.

  “What was it?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

  “As if you didn’t know.” I held up the bear, smiling like a fool.

  “I can’t believe you weren’t going to check the table. I would have died if you had left it there!”

  I sat down on the steps, a few feet from him, and held the bear with both hands. “Luke, I have to ask you something. Um… is this from a friend, or a hopeful boyfriend?”

  He stopped juggling. “I have to admit, I have a sweet spot for you. I was kind of hoping you felt the same way.”

  I nodded, flattered. “I do like you, Luke. But I’ve never had a boyfriend before. There’s a reason for that.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re gay.”

  I laughed. “No, but Naomi Bell likes to think so. Never mind – that’s a joke. I’ll explain it to you later.”

  “So what’s up?”

/>   I sighed. “I barely have any friends. I have a hard time talking to people, you know?”

  “You’re joking, right? I’ve seen you teaching us how to juggle. You don’t seem shy at all.”

  “That’s part of the New Me Project.” At his confused expression, I hurried to explain. “My mom’s been divorced and remarried a few times, and this year I decided to start deliberately creating a new identity for myself. Especially after my name was taken away.” I told him about my name change and my List.

  “So what you’re saying is that you’re afraid of commitment,” he said.

  “What? No, that’s not it.”

  “You’re afraid to make mistakes?”

  “That’s not it either.”

  He put his clubs down and sat down beside me. “It seems that way to me. You write down other people’s mistakes so you don’t commit the same ones, but you avoid contact with other people in the hopes of avoiding making your own mistakes.”

  His observation made me uncomfortable. “Sort of,” I said. “I think certain miseries in life can be avoided by using simple common sense. But I’ve avoided the friend factor because they always seem to leave anyway.” I told him about how many times I had moved, made friends with the neighbors, and about Darcy.

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “But I do see your problem. And I’m willing to wait.” He held out his hand. “Friends, then?”

  My brow creased in hesitation. “Just like that? You’re not upset with me? Angry, sad…?”

  “In either case, you have yourself a juggling partner. Why would I be angry about that?”

  “Because when someone has a crush on someone else, and that someone else doesn’t return the same feelings, the relationship is usually tainted. Lopsided somehow.”

  “Well, I promise to keep myself under control. You’re sure that you don’t have any crushes on anyone else, though, right?”

  “Nope. You don’t have to worry about competition.”

  “Okay. Then we can be friends.”

  I took his hand and shook it, then laughed. We finished out our lunch hour by passing clubs.

  That afternoon, I took my little juggling bear up to the hay loft to show to Mouser and her kitten. I lay back in the hay and folded my arms behind my head as a pillow, and then told Mouser all about my day. It had been two months since I first discovered her, and she often approached me and let me run my fingers through her soft, thick fur. She never let me pick her up, though.

  Today, however, to my complete and utter surprise, she crawled onto my chest and butted her head under my chin. She began to purr. I almost didn't dare to move, except that I knew she was asking me to pet her. Slowly, I reached my arm out to her head and began to scratch the back of her neck, just the way she liked. It was such a precious, fragile moment. Breathing might have disturbed it. After a short time, she fell asleep, nestled in my arms in complete comfort.

  It had happened. I had won her trust.

  I remembered my ultimatum and felt a slight surge of regret. Now that I had earned the trust of this stray with whom I identified, it was time for me to start working on my own relationships with humans. A sudden thought startled me. Wait a minute! I already had a friend – Luke. And it had been easier than I expected.

  I glanced at the juggling bear. I was glad that Luke hadn't pressured me for something I couldn't offer - yet. Maybe in time, I thought. I’ll be patient and see where this goes.