So? Now do you think I’m being melodramatic?? I didn’t think so. The thing is, I feel a little bit on shaky ground with most of these people. My brain keeps trying to convince me I’m right, but my heart keeps whispering that I’ve made some pretty major mistakes. That, like Sahil said, maybe I’m losing my sense of who I am.
Whoa. Mummy just popped her head in here and asked me to come to her room. Avoiding her is out of the question since her room is right across the hall from me and she’d see me running away.
Love,
Twinkle
Nineteen
Tuesday, June 23
My room, redux
Dear Aurora Guerrero,
You know those times in your life when you feel like you’re watching everything go down in a movie rather than in real life? People seem to be actors and the lines seem to be scripted and you just stand there with your mouth hanging open, wondering if you look as stupid as you feel?
Yeah, that.
So, Mummy called me into her room. I don’t think she’s ever asked to “see me” before. I went in there, my hands in the pockets of my KEEP CALM AND MAKE MOVIES hoodie, trying to look like I didn’t care. Like I wasn’t dying of curiosity and also awkwardness because we hadn’t talked at all about the stuff I said to her when I yelled that night after the party.
She had this small cardboard box, the size of a shoe box, open on her bed. She sat down beside it and patted the bed on the other side, so I sat, too. Silently, she pulled out a bunch of papers and set them between us. Some of them were letters written in Hindi. I don’t read it, but I can recognize the script. The letters at the top were written in this careful, slow hand, but some of the ones at the back of the pile were in shaky writing. I sifted through them, and then got to some black-and-white pictures. There was one of a little girl around five years old, with short, curly hair and these solemn eyes staring straight into the camera without smiling. Her dress was too small for her, and she was barefoot on a dirt road, standing in front of a little hut.
“Is that you?” I said, peering closer. Those black eyes … I’d recognize them anywhere.
“Yes,” Mummy said. “I was six years old. You can see the house where I lived behind me there.”
Wow. I mean, I knew Mummy had been poor in India, way poorer than we were. But I’d never seen evidence of it before. My cheeks got hot when I remembered how I’d shouted at them for not having a cell phone. Mummy didn’t even have shoes.
Mummy picked up one of the pictures. This one was of a young couple sitting on a cot with a baby in the woman’s arms. “Nani and Nana. You know, they weren’t much older than you when they had me. She was seventeen and Nana was twenty. He worked in a factory all his life, but he died when I was ten because of all the fumes he was inhaling there every day. A lot of men in the neighborhood died from that. Nani kept working as a dhobin—she washed people’s clothes from the apartment complexes nearby. She wanted to be able to afford my school fees. She was determined that I would finish twelfth grade; she never finished fourth. When your Papa came to ask for my hand in marriage, she immediately said yes. She wanted something better for me and he had a job as a bank clerk. It was stable.” She smiled and squeezed my arm. “When I got pregnant with you, Papa’s friend told us he had a connection to a US company. He said he could get Papa a job here. I wasn’t sure. I wanted to have my baby at home, where my mother could help me raise her. I had always imagined that—you growing up near Nani. And I knew that was her dream, too. She was so ecstatic at the thought of being a grandmother. Of spoiling you. But when she heard we could give you a start in the States …” Mummy shook her head, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “She told me to go. She made me promise to send her pictures of you as you grew, and she asked that we name you Twinkle if you were a girl, after the daughter of one of her favorite actresses.”
“Did she … did she get to come visit when I was born?”
“No.” Mummy swallowed. “We couldn’t afford her visa or her ticket. We sent her a lot of photos and letters. She wrote all the time. She wanted to know what you wore for Diwali, what your favorite sweets were, whether you had the same curl to your lip when you were angry that I did. She was trying, I think, to be as much a part of your life as an eight-thousand-mile separation would allow.” Mummy took a breath. “And then … she got sick. I would ask about it, but she said she was fine. It was just arthritis.” She picked up one of the shakily written letters. “Just a part of getting older, she said. I had no idea how sick she was until she was … gone. She never asked for a single thing, even though we sent her money whenever we could. She was making do without so we could live well.” A tear dripped off the end of her nose and made a dark blue circle on the sheet. I put my hand on Mummy’s. My mind was reeling. I had no idea at all about any of this. What Mummy had been through, what Nani had wanted for me … I had no idea.
After a moment, she went on. “When Nani died, something inside me … broke. There’s no other way to say it. And I’m sorry, Twinkle, that it’s affected you. I am sorry it’s made you feel like we don’t care about you. The truth is, you’re the center of our family.”
An apology from Papa and Mummy in the space of a few days. It was like being in a Magritte painting. So surreal. Speaking of paintings … “You stopped doing your art when Nani died.”
“Yes. The world seemed washed of color. It felt pointless.” Mummy’s eyes held mine. “The only thing that had any point anymore was you, Twinkle.”
I shook my head. “That’s not how it feels to me,” I said, my voice cracking. “It feels like … like you blame me for Nani dying alone. If it weren’t for me, you never would’ve come to the States. And you could’ve stayed there, with her.”
Mummy sighed and smoothed my hair back from my forehead. “Twinkle, I don’t blame you. For anything. If anything, I’m the one who …” She trailed off and started again. “Have you ever done something you were ashamed of, but found yourself powerless to stop?”
I thought back to the time I’d exploded at Lewis. What I’d said to Maddie about her dress. How I’d felt bad but hadn’t been able to stop myself from acting out. “Yeah. But … how do you get yourself to stop?”
Mummy shrugged and smiled a small, sad smile. “I don’t know, beta. I’m still trying to work that out. I suppose all we can do is try, hmm? Perhaps life is about doing things in small steps to set things right again.”
I looked into her teary black eyes and, for once, saw only love. There was no guardedness, no defensive wall, no spacey/absent look. My mom would never tell me she loved me in so many words. But this was the closest she’d ever come. I put my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes.
So maybe I need to take a step toward making things right again. Maybe it’s time to whittle down the “people I’m avoiding” list. I can start at the bonfire party Thursday night.
Love,
Twinkle
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Bonfire party
Dear N,
I know you couldn’t show up at Perk. But I’m done wondering about your identity and if you’re ever going to come say hi. So I’m going to find you at the bonfire party, okay? I’m pretty sure I know who you are anyway.
—Twinkle
Wednesday, June 24
My room
Dear Ava DuVernay,
I’m sitting here, thinking about the mistakes I’ve made. Blowing up at Lewis? That was a huge mistake. Yelling at Maddie? Ditto. Being spiteful and threatening to cancel the movie so everyone’s work would’ve been for nothing? Tritto. But something both Sahil and Maddie have challenged me on just doesn’t ring true: the behind-the-scenes interview footage.
I’ve been watching it for the last hour. When I get to the end, I just go back to the beginning and play again. Sahil and Maddie think this footage is about cold, hard revenge. And you know? Maybe it was, for a little bit at the party. I was furious, and I
wanted to lash out in the only way I knew how.
But now? Now I see all the ways in which airing this would be the biggest truth I could ever tell. Unless people are forced to confront their lies, their brutality, their wrongness, how are they supposed to put things right? How are they supposed to grow? Yes, I’ve come to care for many of the people I made Dracula with. And that’s precisely why I have to air these interviews.
They’re a game changer, not just for all those involved, but for others watching, too. This is a statement about the way humans can be so ruthless, so cunning, so savage that we’re no better than wild animals when you get down to it. This is art.
And so, yes, I am sorry about how I treated people that day I yelled at Lewis. But I’m not sorry about this. This is the most honest thing I’ve ever dared to create, and this is going to help a lot of people.
Love,
Twinkle
Thursday, June 25
2 days until Midsummer Night
Banner Lake
Dear DeMane Davis,
“Take steps to make things right,” she said. “It’ll all be okay,” she said. Yeah, right.
So, first, I thought I did a decent thing. When Sahil asked me if I wanted a ride to the bonfire party, I said no. Since I was going to be talking to Neil there, I didn’t want it to be awkward between us or for him to feel like I was lying to him by not telling him the entire ride there. So I took a Lyft there even though it cost me a good chunk of some birthday money I had left over. So, Universe? A few karma points for that would’ve been nice.
The entire ride there, I thought about what Mummy and I had talked about. How she’d said the way to make something right again was to take a small step in the right direction. As soon as the driver pulled up, I hopped out and looked at all the people clustered around the giant bonfire, which was already roaring. Off to the left, Banner Lake was as still and dark as a piece of black glass, and a cool wind was whipping across the clearing where the party was, making people shriek and huddle into each other. I pulled my hoodie closer around me and walked up to Sahil, who was talking to Skid off to the side.
His eyes lit up even brighter than the bonfire when he saw me. He looked heartbreakingly handsome in a black skull hoodie and jeans, his hair all tousled from the wind. “Hey, T!” He leaned over and gave me a hug, and I closed my eyes, just relishing it. When Sahil held me, he blocked out the cutting wind, and it felt like everything would be okay.
Skid gave me a fist bump. “Yo, T,” he said, grinning. “Guess what? I finally talked to Portia. Told her about Midsummer Night like you said?”
“Yeah? And?” I crossed my fingers without even thinking about it.
He nodded, a smug grin on his face. “She was into it. She’ll be there Saturday.”
“Oh my God, I knew it!” I clapped, and then hugged him. “Congrats, Skid. Now all you have to do is be your charming self and it’s in the bag, dude.”
Sahil snorted. “This guy? Charming?”
Skid glared at him. “Don’t be jealous, Sahil. Green isn’t your color.” Then, laughing, he swaggered off to get another hot chocolate. In the distance, I saw Aaron and Matthew huddled together under a tree, their arms wrapped around each other. I felt this warmth in my chest. I was happy for my friends. Extremely happy. But I wanted to be in that lovestruck, gooey place too. I glanced at Sahil and amended silently, In a guilt-free way.
“It’s finally here,” Sahil said, smiling at me and spreading his arms wide. “The wrap party. We’re almost done.”
I sighed happily. “I know.” Then I looked around again, searching.
“You okay?”
“Hmm?” Looking back at Sahil, I saw him frowning at me. “Oh, yeah.” I stuck my hands in my hoodie pockets and scuffed my sneaker on the ground. “I just … I want to set things right. You know, for how I acted that day with Lewis and all of them.”
Sahil’s frown morphed into a small smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what happened. … I lost my head or something. Anyway.” I looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry I acted like that.”
“’S’okay, T,” he said, gently bumping my shoulder with his. “I hear it happens to all the greats now and again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe my problem is that I was starting to think of myself as one of the ‘greats,’” I said. “A little humility never hurt anyone.”
Sahil smiled fondly at me. “Yeah.”
I caught sight of Francesca and Brij, standing off to one side talking. That was one of the coolest things the movie had done. It had brought together the groundlings and the silk feathered hats for the first time in the history of PPC’s existence. (Okay, there was no way for me to prove that, but it was my claim to fame and I was sticking with it.) “Oh, hey, there’s someone now. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”
Sahil nodded and I rushed off. “Hey, Francesca! Brij!”
Francesca turned to me, her hands around a thermos, a plaid scarf around her neck. Only in the mountains would you need a scarf when it was almost July. “Oh, hey, Twinkle.” Brij just waved. He looked a little thunderstruck, his eyes all wide, like he was having trouble believing he was here. Ha. I so got that.
“Listen,” I said to both of them. “I just wanted to say sorry. For the other day, when we were filming that scene? I pitched a hissy fit with you guys and Lewis and it wasn’t cool at all.”
Francesca smiled and waved a hand. “Ah, it’s not a big deal. Lewis should’ve learned his lines.”
“Oh yeah,” Brij agreed, huddling into his camo jacket as the wind picked up. “It wasn’t just you.”
“Maybe. But I shouldn’t have said all that stuff and acted like a giant brat. That was wrong. So, I’m sorry, again.”
“Apology accepted,” Brij said.
Francesca grinned. “You and Skid just make me look unbelievably gorgeous in the final version and I’ll never mention it again.”
I laughed just as Victoria walked up, her thick red mane blowing in the wind. “It’s a deal.”
“Twinkle!” Victoria screeched, throwing her arm around my neck. “How’s my fave director?”
“Good!” I smiled at her. “How’s my fave, uh, Victoria?”
She grinned. “I’m fantastic. Listen, come with me.” Before I could protest, she grabbed my hand with her leather-gloved one and pulled me toward the bonfire, where most of the people were clustered. “People!” she said, her voice like a bell in the night. “People, listen up!”
Everyone gradually got quiet. “Victoria,” I said nervously. “What are you doing?”
She ignored me. “I want you all to listen up! Because our very fearless and very talented director is about to make a speech!”
Everyone began to cheer and clap. I held up my hands. “No, no,” I said. “I’m not so great with speeches. How about Sahil instead? He’s the producer, and this entire thing was his idea anyway!”
I pointed to him, where he stood a few yards away, but he laughed and held up his hand. “No way,” he said. “The producer’s meant to just blend into the background.”
“Speech, Twinkle!” Victoria said again, and soon everyone was chanting, “Speech! Speech!” in that embarrassing way and staring at me. So I threw my hands up in the air.
“Okay, okay, settle down!” There was a titter through the crowd, but they did settle. I looked around at all their faces, glowing in the crackling firelight. Across from me, Maddie and Lewis were standing together, with Brij off to Maddie’s side. Brij was watching them glumly, though she didn’t know because she was watching me, her face serious, her eyes steady.
I took a deep breath. “You know, I’ve always wanted to be a filmmaker. Some of my earliest, most favorite memories are of me making videos with … a friend.” She blinked but didn’t look away. “I’d video her doing something silly like riding her bike or baking a mud pie or something, but it always felt so vital to me. Like I was recording a piece of history.” I looked around at the cast. “I knew
from when I was little that filmmaking was what I wanted to do when I grew up. But this was the first time I’ve ever had a chance to do something even vaguely on a professional level, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without all of you. So thank you. Sincerely. You’ve all shown up, every time, and you’ve all been so fun to work with.” There was no need to mention all the times Lewis forgot his lines or Victoria took too long redoing her makeup or Francesca showed up fifteen minutes late because she had to stop at Starbucks to get her cappuccino. “May this movie be the ticket to your Ivy League futures. You’re all A-list in my eyes.”
Everyone laughed and clapped, and Sahil put an arm around me and pulled me close. “That was a nice speech,” he said quietly.
I smiled, a little embarrassed, and shrugged. “It was honest. Everyone’s been awesome. I feel like …” I looked around. “I feel like they’re my friends now. Sort of. Pseudo. Maybe.”
Sahil laughed. “A few qualifiers, but still. That’s cool.”
“Yeah.” I spotted Maddie and Lewis then, walking away quickly toward a grove of trees on the far right, under which was parked Lewis’s Range Rover. “Hey, I’ve got to go talk to Maddie before she leaves. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”
“Sure.”
I hurried off, trying not to trip on the tree roots and rocks. “Maddie! Lewis! Wait up!”
I saw them glance back at me, whisper something to each other, and then stop. They had this tense look about them, like they were in a hurry and I’d caught them at a bad time. Breathing hard, I came to a stop in front of them. “Hey,” I said, smiling at both of them. Lewis smiled back; Maddie didn’t. “Listen. I just wanted to say … I’m sorry for the other day when we were shooting that scene. Lewis, I shouldn’t have said all those things to you. It was absolutely uncalled for and totally uncool.”
Lewis jerked his head so his blond hair flopped out of his blue eyes. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been a jerk to you either, and I should’ve learned my lines. You’d only told me a hundred times. So I’m sorry, too.”
From Twinkle, With Love Page 20