“What’s that?” Elizabeth asks.
“That Chloe comes with me.” Sid pauses a moment and then adds, “And Wain promises not to run away again. Oh, and no one pressures us to stay longer than we want to.”
“That’s three conditions,” Elizabeth points out, “but all reasonable, I suppose.” She looks slowly from Sid to Wain and back again. “I could call Phil, tell him we’re coming tomorrow. He did say that Devi was still”—she searches for the right word—“disoriented.”
“She means so doped-up she won’t recognize me, let alone you,” Wain says.
“Shush, Wain,” Elizabeth says. “There’s no need for that. Phil says she’s getting more lucid by the hour.”
“So can we stay, Nana? Please?”
Elizabeth nods. “First ferry tomorrow though. No sleeping in.” Wain whoops, picks her up as if she is a child and hops around the porch with her in his arms. She keeps saying, “Put me down, put me down,” but she is smiling as she says it.
“I’ll go talk to Megan,” Sid says. “Make sure it’s okay with her. And, Wain, you need to talk to Fariza about that thing.”
Wain puts Elizabeth down. “I’m on it, bro,” he says.
“What thing?” Elizabeth runs a hand over her hair and smoothes down her shirt where Wain’s bear hug has wrinkled it.
“Just something we need to do tonight. But first I need to talk to Chloe. See if she’s up for a road trip.”
Now You Know
After dinner everyone but Wain and Fariza gathers on the back porch to wait for the sun to go down. Sid has explained the plan to Elizabeth, Chloe and Megan. They have all agreed to write something down to burn in the fire pit Sid has made on the beach. Megan has picked some lavender from her garden to make the smoke smell sweet. One thermos has been filled with coffee, another with hot chocolate. At Chloe’s request, Sid has gathered the ingredients for s’mores, although he thinks it might be weird to roast marshmallows over the ashes of their broken dreams. Or it might be exactly right. Time will tell.
Wain is sitting in the dining room with Fariza, who is picking up the balls of crumpled paper he throws on the floor and putting them in the waste basket. Writing down his fears is obviously harder than Wain had anticipated. Sid isn’t sure what Wain said to Fariza, but she seems okay. A bit subdued but okay. Which is pretty much how he feels too. His contribution to the ceremony will be the last six pages of the final Billy saga. And he still has Fariza’s pages in his pocket for later.
When Wain and Fariza finally join them, Wain is clutching a single sheet torn from a lined yellow pad. There is writing on both sides. As everyone watches, he folds the paper into an origami lotus and hands it to Fariza, who looks at him as if he has just pulled a live chicken out of his ear. Astonished but intrigued.
“Origami?” Sid says. “You do origami?”
Wain looks at his feet and mutters, “Yeah, I know. Devi taught me a long time ago. Pretty weird, right?”
“Really weird,” Sid says. “But very cool.” He wonders what other surprises Wain has in store for him. Crocheting? Playing the mandolin? It seems anything is possible.
“Do mine,” Chloe says, handing Wain a sheet of pink paper, which he transforms into a perfect lily. Soon the picnic table is littered with origami frogs, boats, birds, bugs, dogs and cats. Only Fariza’s pages, which Sid has returned to her, are left unchanged. She clutches the papers in one hand and Fred in the other as they make their way to the beach.
Sid has laid the fire pit with twists of newspaper topped with bits of kindling and stalks of lavendar. He has pulled logs into a semicircle around the pit. There is no wind and the stars are so bright there is no need for flashlights.
He lights a match. “Ready?” he says. Everyone nods. “We’re doing this in order of age,” he reminds them. “Oldest to youngest.” He touches the match to the paper and watches as the flames lick the kindling. When the fire is burning well, Elizabeth steps forward and puts her two little origami frogs into the flames. One for Devi, one for Wain, Sid imagines. Megan’s paper dog is next, her pain invisible and unfathomable to Sid. Then it is Sid’s turn. Wain has transformed Billy’s last story into six different objects: a horse, a snake, a flower, a boat, a hat and a bird. One by one, Sid tosses them into the fire. One by one they burst into flame and then are gone. Sid reaches out to touch the smoke rising from the fire. “Goodbye, old friend,” he whispers. Chloe starts to cry when her lily ignites, and she clutches Sid’s hand. He wants to ask her what she wrote, but that is another thing they all agreed on: no one has to share.
Wain stands up to throw his yellow lotus into the flames. He hesitates, and Sid thinks he is about to unfold the paper and read what’s on it, but instead he just says, “This is for my mom,” before he consigns the flower to the fire.
Fariza watches the lotus curl up and turn to ash before she gets up and hands one piece of paper to each person around the fire. “You first,” she says to Wain.
“You sure?” he says. She nods, and he leans over the fire, letting one corner catch before he allows the whole sheet to drop onto the flames. Page by page, they burn Fariza’s story. Sid can see the words being consumed. He inhales the smoke and enjoys the stinging sensation in his eyes and the relief that tears bring. When Fariza leans in to burn the last sheet of paper, Chloe starts to sing, slightly off-key. “When you’re down and troubled, when you need a helping hand…” The others take up the tune. Even Wain and Fariza joins in the chorus. “You’ve got a friend, don’t you know you’ve got a friend.”
Fariza crawls into Sid’s lap as they watch the embers die. No one suggests making s’mores. Before they douse and bury the fire, Sid transfers Fariza to Megan’s lap and scoops up some ashes in a shovel. When they are cool, he goes from one person to the next, dotting their foreheads with ash. When he is done, Chloe puts her finger in the ashes and touches it gently to his forehead. Even after she wipes her hand on her jeans, he can feel her touch on his forehead: cool, after the heat of the fire.
The next morning, as he eats his cereal, Sid notices that they all still have smudges of ash on their foreheads, himself included. It looks pretty funny, but he knows why he hasn’t washed his off. In fact, he wishes he had thought to put some of the ashes in a jar to take with him to Victoria. A touch-up for himself, for Wain, for Chloe, maybe even for Devi. He has never fully understood the meaning of the word blessing until now.
He feels bad about leaving Fariza again, but he has tried to help her understand how brief this trip will be. The passage of time is so hard to explain. Two sleeps. Two breakfasts. Two bedtime stories. Two baths. He chooses books for Megan to read to her when he’s away. He gives her his cell phone number and tells her to call anytime. She seems all right this morning. Not talkative, but then she never really is when there are a lot of people around. He wonders if she was always like this, like him. Happier one-on-one. Anxious in a crowd.
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Megan says. “Fariza and I will clean up. You got everything you need?” she asks Sid.
“I think so,” he says. “Change of clothes, clean underwear, toothbrush, iPod.”
“And you’ll call when you get there?”
“Sure, Mom,” Sid says. Megan’s eyes widen. He never calls her Mom, always Megan. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
“And please tell Irena how sorry I am to have missed her roast beef dinner,” Elizabeth says. “I meant to get over to see her before I left, but—”
“My dumb-ass grandson messed up again,” Wain chimes in. “Make that my dumb-ass black grandson, just so she knows it wasn’t her dumb-ass white grandson.” He grins at Sid. “Tell her I’m sorry too, okay?”
“Okay,” Megan says. “Now shoo! You don’t want to miss the ferry.”
Chloe is sitting at the end of her driveway on an enormous red suitcase. “Two days, Chloe. We’re going for two days.” Sid groans as he gets out of the car to wrestle the monster into the trunk. He is surprised by how light the suitcase is.
Chloe slams the trunk and hops into the backseat beside him. “Shopping, my friend. Two days of shopping. The suitcase is for the stuff I’ll be buying. Deal with it.” She leans her head back and sighs. “It’s gonna be awesome. And don’t look so horrified. You don’t have to come.”
She puts her head on his shoulder as the car rolls onto the ferry. Before they leave the dock, Sid goes to stand at the rail and look up at his house. He imagines Megan and Fariza filling the dishwasher, wiping down the counters, shaking the crumbs off the placemats. Maybe they’ll go for a walk; maybe they’ll do some weeding. Megan will read to Fariza. Fariza will have a nap. A flash of red appears on the front porch. Fariza and Megan are waving what appears to be a tablecloth. Sid laughs and waves back, although he doubts they can see him. Chloe appears at his side and yells, “Toro, toro, toro,” into the breeze. The ferry pulls away from the dock and they go upstairs to the lounge, where Wain and Elizabeth are playing I Spy.
Wain looks at Sid and says, “I spy with my little eye something that begins with F.”
Sid says, “Give it up, Wain. Not in the mood.”
“What? I was gonna say friend. I spy a friend.”
Wain looks so aggrieved that Sid decides to play along. He looks around the lounge. A couple of latter-day hippies, a boy and a girl, are dozing in the corner, their dog curled up at their feet. “I spy with my little eye something that begins with D,” he says.
“Dope?” Chloe asks. “A dog? Doritos?”
Elizabeth joins the game. “Denim? Dreadlocks? The Doobie Brothers?”
“Driftwood? Duck? A dolphin?” Wain points out the window.
Sid laughs. “There’s no dolphin.” He was going to say doofus but it seems too mean now, especially after Wain has said friend rather than fag.
“Give up?” They nod and he points toward the sleeping hippies. “Dreamers,” he says. “I spy dreamers.”
Wain snorts and says, “No one would ever guess that. Your turn, Chloe.”
They play I Spy until it’s time to go down to the car. No one has been able to guess anyone else’s word, but it doesn’t matter. It passes the time and keeps Sid from thinking about where he’s going and what he’s doing.
Wain and Chloe are plugged into their iPods, Sid naps and Elizabeth listens to some classical music station as she drives. They only make one stop on the way down the island, to eat the lunch Megan has packed for them and use the bathrooms in a small roadside park. When they pull into the driveway at Devi’s house, Phil comes out of the garage to greet them.
“Good trip?” he asks.
“Exhausting,” Elizabeth says. “I need to freshen up before I go to the hospital.”
“You’re going right now?” Wain asks. “We only just got here.”
“I didn’t drive like a bat out of hell all the way down the island so I could put my feet up when I got here,” Elizabeth replies. “Take your things inside, Wain. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
“Can’t I go tomorrow?” he asks. “I’m tired.”
“So am I,” Elizabeth says. “Phil told your mother we’d be there today, so that’s what we’re doing, tired or not.”
“Okay, okay,” Wain says. He slouches into the house, his shoulders hunched.
“I guess you’re in the loft again, Sid,” Phil says. “Or Chloe can have the loft and you can sleep in my bed. Doesn’t matter to me. The sheets are clean. I’ll stay at Devi’s with Wain until she comes home.”
“When’s that going to be?” Sid asks.
“When she’s stabilized. Couple of weeks, maybe more.”
Sid nods and starts toward the garage. “You want the loft?” he asks Chloe, who is extricating her suitcase from the trunk.
“Nah,” she says. “No way I’m getting this puppy up a ladder.” She sets the suitcase on its wheels and follows Sid.
“You gonna go with them?” she says.
“Now? No. Tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow. With you. And only for a few minutes.”
“You sure? That you want me there? I mean, I’m nobody to her. And you might want to talk—privately.”
“You’re not nobody to me. I need you to be there. Not Elizabeth. Not Wain. You. And I doubt whether we’re going to talk much. She’s all doped up.”
“Okay, okay. Just checking. As long as I get time to shop, I’ll be happy. I don’t suppose Elizabeth knows where someone my age would shop.”
“I doubt it, but remember I told you about those girls who helped me look for Wain. Amie and Enid? They’ll know where you should go, although they’re pretty big into vintage, I think. And I wanted to see them anyway. Tell them what’s happening.”
“I can do vintage,” Chloe says. “Can you call them tonight?”
“Sure,” Sid says. He opens the door to the garage.
“Awesome smell,” Chloe says as they walk through to the living quarters. “And this apartment is soooo tiny and adorable.”
“Wait till you see the bathroom,” Sid says. “Devi tiled the shower walls. It’s really beautiful but kinda creepy.”
He carries his stuff up to the loft and lies down for a moment, staring up at the skylight. He can hear Phil talking to Chloe, showing her around, offering her a drink. He hears Elizabeth’s car start up and drive away. The door to the garage opens and shuts. Phil’s and Chloe’s voices move farther away, into the garden. A flock of Canada geese flies overhead in perfect formation. Geese are a good omen, he decides, unlike crows. Geese are orderly, purposeful, community-minded birds. Maybe they’re flying to Jimmy Chicken Island.
Chloe’s giggle floats up from the garden, like a bubble in a glass of soda. Fizzy, funny Chloe. He feels calm, calmer than he thought he’d feel. He knows that tomorrow he might feel differently, but today he’s okay. He’s here to support his brother and his grandmother. He chose to be here. He’s with his best friend. He’s going to get the visit with Devi over with and go home. It’s that simple, he thinks as he drifts off to sleep.
Over the Moon
Phil takes Sid and Chloe to the hospital after breakfast the next day. Elizabeth is already there; Wain is at home, asleep.
“Seeing Devi yesterday was hard for Wain,” Phil says as they wait for an orderly to buzz them into the ward. “She doesn’t look so good.” He doesn’t elaborate, and Sid imagines her as haggard, wild-haired, filthy. A lunatic, shackled to her bed.
Any sense of well-being Sid had experienced the night before evaporates as they approach the psych ward, which is on the top floor of the hospital. He wishes he had never agreed to watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest with Chloe. He grabs Chloe’s hand. His mouth is dry, but his palms are sweaty. He hopes she doesn’t mind.
She squeezes his hand and whispers, “It’s gonna be okay.”
The door swings open to reveal a dingy green corridor that leads to an elevated, glassed-in nurses’ station overlooking a lounge full of grungy couches and battered coffee tables. A big-screen TV is tuned to something with an irritating laugh track. Happy Days. Half a dozen patients stare blankly at the screen. No one is laughing, not even when Fonzie says, “It’s a lot of fun in la-la land.” The studio audience shrieks with joy.
Phil stops at the nurses’ station and checks in.
“She’s doing better today,” a young nurse named Sandra says. She is dressed, as are all the nurses, in street clothes: jeans, sneakers, cheerful T-shirts. She smiles at Sid and Chloe. “First time here? Kinda freaky, right? But don’t worry. I’m not Nurse Ratched and we don’t do lobotomies anymore.” Before Sid can recover from the fact that a) she appears to have read his mind and b) she has a really dark sense of humor, she picks up a chart and says, “Devi’s a little more alert today. It helps that her family is here. Although we have to make sure she doesn’t get overtired.”
Phil nods and leads Sid and Chloe down another green corridor, this one lined with patients’ rooms. Some of the doors are open and Sid can see the inmates, none of whom look at all like Jack Nicholson. Most of them are
dressed in hospital pajamas. They look more defeated than anything else, lying on their hospital beds, staring out the chicken-wired windows. Their rooms are devoid of decoration. Sid hangs back when they get to Devi’s room. He feels queasy.
“Let me tell them you’re here,” Phil says. “Make sure this is an okay time.”
Sid tries to smile, but his lips stick to his teeth. It’s not an okay time for me, he thinks. He starts to move away down the hall, but Chloe pulls him back. She’s strong for a small girl. All those Polish peasant genes.
“What are you doing?” she hisses.
“Leaving,” he says.
“No way.”
“I don’t want to see her. I made a mistake. I need to leave. Now. This isn’t going to do me any good.”
“You don’t know that,” Chloe says. “Did it ever occur to you that this wasn’t all about you? That it’s about Wain and Devi and Elizabeth too?”
“Fuck you,” Sid says. “I’m outta here.” He yanks his hand away from Chloe just as Phil comes out of the room.
“She’s ready,” Phil says. He looks from Chloe to Sid. “You okay, Sid?”
“He’s fine,” Chloe says sweetly. “Aren’t you, Sid?” She stands on tiptoe and kisses him softly on the cheek. Then she takes his hand in hers again and they walk together through the open door. Phil closes it behind them and waits in the hall. The room is dim, the only light coming from a high, barred slit of a window. It’s a horrible room—depressing, definitely the worst on the ward—but Sid doubts whether someone as doped-up as Devi cares.
Elizabeth is sitting next to the bed, her hands in her lap. Her eyes are fixed on the figure in the bed. Devi is very, very thin, her body almost child-size under the blankets. Soft gray curls frame a face that is all angles, although her cracked lips are full. A cut on her forehead bears three stitches and one arm is bandaged. An IV drips clear liquid into her other arm. Her fingernails are clean and clipped short, but her hands look chapped and raw.
Three Little Words Page 15