Lights, Camera, Amalee

by Dar Williams

  “I can’t believe you did that! You’re the one who should go to Yale!” Kyle exclaimed, putting a hand on my shoulder. “How did you do all that research? You know so much stuff!”

  I had the outrageous urge to ask him to drive me home just so I could keep listening to him. To him, I was the environmental scientist in the cool glasses showing him something in a microscope. I lost the urge when I realized I couldn’t think of a thing to say past thanking him.

  “Okay, a deal’s a deal,” Dad said to Kyle, then turned to me. “Kyle isn’t supposed to be out after nine with his license. I told him I wouldn’t bust him if he went right home.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got to go. Thanks, David. Congratulations, Amalee!” Kyle said, and then he put his arm around me before he disappeared. Not a real hug, but obviously something he wanted to do. I felt a sudden terror at the idea that he might ask me out on a date. Maybe I wasn’t as in love with him as I thought. That was kind of a relief.

  Dad said, “A very nice boy.” Then he got serious as he changed the subject. “Amalee, honey, there’s something else….”

  “Okay, ten thirty, into the car!” Phyllis ordered as she marched in from my left. “But before we go …” She nodded to Dad and they whisked me off to the side.

  “You see, Amalee …” Dad began.

  “Was that who I thought it was?” Phyllis asked quietly. I remembered the look that Phyllis and Joyce had exchanged. I knew what she was asking.

  “I couldn’t get a permission slip to use her voice,” I said. “She had already died.”

  Phyllis made an exasperated laugh. “That’s not why I’m asking. So that was your grandmother?”

  “Yes. I taped her.”

  “She let you?” Dad asked. “Wow.” He shook his head.

  Phyllis looked at both of us. “You need to know something, Amalee. What do you think she was talking about when she talked about losing things before they could teach her anything, or about how she regretted that she’d let go of some things forever?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The world. It seemed like the kind of thing you say to someone when you’re old and about to die.”

  Phyllis paused. “What do you think she might have been referring to? What had she overlooked?”

  I thought about it a second. And I knew….

  “Sally,” I whispered. Of course she was talking about Sally. Of course. I thought about where I’d put my grandmother’s speech in the movie. It was when we were talking about Frog X. That was it. Sally, the child who wouldn’t grow up, the non-mom who I didn’t want to talk about because she’d been replaced already, the alcoholic, the one we never talked about, the one who left before I could ever know her. The one who deserved better than to be forgotten, extinct from our memories. Sally was Frog X, and I’d known it the whole time.

  Phyllis started to cry. Dad put his hand over his eyes and looked miserable. “Poor Sally,” Phyllis whispered. “What would she have given to hear her mother say that?”

  Dad cleared his throat and pretended that he hadn’t been crying himself. “It’s so late,” he said. “We’ve got to get home.”

  Joyce wandered over. Just past her, I saw the world was still going, filled with the surprises of living people. Karim and Sandy were holding hands. Ms. Severence was clearly waiting for Dad. Gail and her fiancé were zipping up their matching coats.

  “We’re setting out,” Joyce began, then saw us looking very quiet and serious. “Oh, goodness. So it was her, the tortoise?”

  “Turtle. Tortoises only live on the land,” I quietly corrected her. Joyce reached for her tissue. I was already walking away.

  I found a particularly tall and stately tree just out of the light, and I started to cry. Soon they were calling my name, and I knew I had to go. I got myself under control and headed over to them. I, too, had lost Sally before she could teach me something, whether she was the happy, floating child-fairy or the mom who was excited for me to do the things she’d always wanted to do. I wondered who this person was, and whether she held some secrets I might have needed. I’d spent so long telling myself that Sally was a fun girl but not important to me.

  But she was important, if unknown. Just like Frog X.

  The phone started ringing around eight in the morning.

  Carolyn didn’t even bother to identify herself. “Betsy wants to take you to Ecuador on her next trip. If you want to go, don’t drink the water or even eat the fruit. I just thought I’d warn you.”

  “Ecuador?” I asked. “Do you think I could go?”

  “Not in a million years. Your dad wouldn’t let you. Also, I think there was just a big takeover in the government. But if you do get to go, I’ll take you to get your shots so you don’t get all those rain forest diseases. Hey, your movie was even better on that big screen.” She hung up and I thought about whether I would let me go to Ecuador, let alone Dad.

  Of all people, Hallie called a little later.

  “Am I calling too early?” she asked.

  She said she thought the film was beautiful and that her little sister had stayed awake for the first half hour of the trip home saying that she was a movie star, but she wished she could be a panther when she grew up. We both laughed, and I said, suddenly, “I’m sorry Ellen moved away. That must have been hard for you.”

  And she answered, just as suddenly, “Amalee, when we stole your books as an April Fool’s joke, I felt so bad. It was really terrible that we did it. And … was that the reason you pushed Lenore down the stairs, because you were upset?”

  I remembered that terrible day when Ellen and Hallie had stolen the notebooks I needed for the only two classes I cared about, both with Ms. Severence.

  “I was upset,” I admitted slowly. “But I was more upset at Lenore, because she told me my father was dying.”

  “I know,” she said quickly. “I know the whole story. Ellen did, too, but I was thinking that we just made your life so hard that day, on top of the whole Lenore thing, and I don’t know why. When you pushed Lenore right after we’d stolen your books, I felt like it was my fault.”

  “It wasn’t,” I said, astounded. “It wasn’t.” I didn’t know what else to say, but I decided to say something that showed I considered her to be a friend. “So, did you see my dad sitting with Ms. Severence?” I asked.

  “Yeah!” she cried. “Was that weird for you? I mean, I liked her a lot. I guess if he’s going to like a teacher, she’s a good choice. But — agh — so weird!” Then she added, “Did you see Curt and Sarah? I noticed you weren’t sitting with them. Was this like a date for them?”

  My call-waiting beeped and I looked to see who it was. “I should probably go,” I told Hallie. “That’s Sarah, so I guess I’ll find out about Curt. If she and I go swimming today, you want to come?”

  “I’d love to,” Hallie said.

  I clicked to Sarah. “Tell me,” I demanded.

  Sarah laughed. “Well, I’ll tell you this. He came over and sat with me.”

  “I am so not surprised!” I said.

  “And his leg touched mine, and he didn’t pull it away. He laughed with everyone else when I first got up and put my hands on my hips. And that’s it. But he’s in two of my classes this year, so I won’t have to hunt him down anymore.”

  “What happened when the two of you left?” I asked.

  “Nothing, but he was with his dad, and I was with Dad and Lydia, so there was no way. But get this — I think he wanted something to happen.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He just looked at me like that.”

  “Wow, he did?” This was so exciting. This was more exciting than Ecuador. I thought about Sarah’s stepmom thinking I only cared about plants and turtles. If only she knew!

  “So now I feel pretty relaxed. I’ll just see what happens at school.”

  School started on Tuesday. Today was Saturday. Couldn’t I skip school and just go to college? Why did I have to stop to learn algebra? I told Sarah I was
very happy for her, and, since I was getting another call-waiting beep, I signed off.

  It was Phyllis. “How are you doing today?” she asked without saying hello.

  “I’m fine. I might go to Ecuador. And Hallie apologized for stealing my books last year. And Sarah’s in a good mood.”

  Phyllis chuckled and said, “I saw those cute little froggies sitting together last night.” Then she continued, “Are you too overwhelmed for a short road trip with me and Joyce tomorrow?”

  “No,” I answered — and was interrupted by another beep. Who could this be? I looked at the call waiting. A number I didn’t recognize. I got off and talked with Kevin, the tai chi guy, who said thanks and invited me to do tai chi with them if I wanted. I thought I couldn’t move that slowly unless I was watching television, but I said I’d consider it.

  When I hung up, the phone rang again. It was Dad. “Hey, I thought you were here!” I told him.

  “I’m getting some things at the farmer’s market with John. He had to go really early, and I didn’t want to wake you. How are you? Has Phyllis called yet? Are you up for a trip tomorrow?”

  I said I was. He said he’d be home soon and make celebration omelets with those enchanted mushrooms John had used before.

  I decided to work off some of my energy by taking a bike ride to the library to return some of my research books. As I started to pedal, I realized I shouldn’t have been so afraid of my wild blood. It was fun to go so fast. It was fun to feel alive. Sally had loved being alive. I knew she had. She would have loved the weather today. She would have laughed at the big dog that was tearing through the long grass. She would have admired the giant oak tree at the side of the road. I did all these things for her.

  I came home and listened to nine messages: Betsy; Mrs. Nielson, thanking me on behalf of Lenore; Joyce; Joyce again; Marin, who said she loved the movie and so did her parents; Henry from the aquarium; Sarah again; Phyllis again; and Ms. Severence, who called herself Ann Severence and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you last night. I just ran into your dad at the farmer’s market.” Oh, yeah, like Sarah just ran into Curt at the swimming hole! Was Ms. Severence tracking down my dad? Was he tracking her down? “… And he said you were home, but I guess you’ve stepped out. I just wanted to say you did a great job. And I’m not surprised. You’ve got a big heart and a great mind. Okay, that’s all. Bye, Amalee.”

  I sighed. She still made me nervous, just because I liked her. If she and Dad were together somehow, even if they became friends, could I get over this? I’d have to, I guessed.

  Dad came home with two canvas bags filled with vegetables and a big bouquet of black-eyed Susans. I put the flowers in water while he cleaned the mushrooms.

  “We’ll have to decide what you want to do now,” he said. “Do you want to be a filmmaker, a scientist, an environmental activist, or a writer?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Dad laughed and explained, “I didn’t know I had such a firecracker on my hands. I feel like I’m supposed to start signing you up for things like special camps or after-school programs, right?”

  “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” I asked. “Think about what I learned this summer.”

  “You’re a brave girl,” Dad muttered. “You got that from Sally.” Hadn’t Phyllis said that? “But I want to help you focus your talents,” he continued.

  “So I don’t end up like Sally?” I asked.

  Dad stopped cracking eggs and looked at me. Whoops. He looked up at the ceiling and answered, “Yes, that’s exactly why I want to help you, to tell the truth, but not in the way you think. Sally was smart, and her parents didn’t do anything to help her focus her mind. She wouldn’t believe me when I told her how bright she was. So I want to be in the right place at the right time to help you. Do you have an idea of what you want to do next?”

  “How about Ecuador? Next dugout boat leaves in a week.”

  Dad surprised me by saying, “If, in a couple years, you wanted to go to Ecuador with Betsy Wright and Carolyn, we could discuss it.”

  “I’m not sure I could handle all the shots. I’d settle for learning more about filmmaking.”

  “You got it.” Dad exhaled with relief. “I was lying. I’d never let you go to Ecuador with Carolyn! Ann’s other brother — Ms. Severence’s other brother — just came up from the city. He might know about film programs in New York next year. You’re still a bit young, probably.”

  “So I hear you saw Ann at the farmer’s market.”

  “How did you know that?” Dad asked, alarmed.

  “She called.”

  “What did she call about?” Dad started walking to the phone.

  “I erased it. It was for me. She said congratulations.”

  “Oh,” Dad murmured, coming back to the kitchen. “John told me he always sees her at the farmer’s market.” So Dad was tracking her down! My experience with Kyle had taught me all I needed to know. This was real.

  “So I guess the two-fingered whistle sealed the deal, huh?” I asked. “Ms. Severence knows how to whistle like a football fan.”

  Dad smiled admiringly and said, “I could never do that. What do you mean ‘sealed the deal’?”

  “That’s what made you want to sneak out early and go to the farmer’s market. Just like that first moment when you knew how you felt about Sally, when she put her arms around you and Phyllis and said she wanted to be friends. And kissed you on the cheek.”

  Dad looked me in the eye. “Good memory,” he said. “I like Ms. Severence. I know that you found her first.”

  At that we both laughed, which loosened things up enough for Dad to say, “If she starts coming around here more, I will do everything I can to make it not weird. Would that be all right?”

  “You’ll be too busy looking at her,” I told him.

  “No, I won’t.”

  “It is weird,” I admitted. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’d tell you I wouldn’t see her, but I don’t think you’d want that. You wouldn’t want me to live with a big lie like that. I know you. You’re the kind of person who visits the grandmother who disowned Sally and tape-records her!”

  “That was Sarah’s idea,” I told him. I’d meant to tell him last night that I was sorry I did it behind his back.

  “So what do you think?” Dad asked.

  “Invite her to John’s on Monday night,” I said.

  “Oh, no, that’s okay. That’s the last night before school.”

  “I’ll invite Sarah to make sure there’s no lack of conversation,” I said. “And you invite Ann. You’re right. Let’s do this. We’ll get it out in the open. Should I call her?”

  “Wow, do you want to?” Dad asked.

  “I want to call her like you wanted me to go to Ecuador,” I said.

  “Ah, I see. I’ll call.”

  We drove to New Paltz that afternoon and got some new school supplies. We talked about what people need to do to help endangered species. Dad felt like a friend, or a fellow teacher — a “colleague,” as he said of the people he worked with.

  In the late afternoon we got home and I watched a movie that Henry had given Dad for me. It was all about sea turtles. I was interested, but I started getting sleepy.

  Dad laughed as I dragged through dinner. “You’re crashing from last night’s excitement,” he explained.

  After dinner I started reading a book I’d gotten out of the library, but soon I was fast asleep.

  I awoke to three faces looking over me. Phyllis’s face said, “Dr. Nurstrom’s waiting in the car.”

  “I wish you’d call him Robert!” Joyce’s face exclaimed. Then she noticed, “Wow, you really crashed, didn’t you?”

  “I made you breakfast, sweetheart,” Dad’s face said.

  Soon we were all heading out to the car, with me pulling on a sweatshirt while Phyllis held my toast. “Notice,” she said, “that we put cashew butter on this instead of peanut butter. Cashews are grown a
nd harvested in the rain forest, so buying cashew butter supports people in the rain forest who might otherwise let their trees be cut down for farmland. We’re trying to do our part.”

  “Not before my coffee, please,” I complained.

  “How about hot chocolate?” Dad asked, putting a travel mug in my hand. I noticed he had also grabbed the black-eyed Susans. Where were we going?

  “Carolyn said she’s sorry she couldn’t come, but, well, we’ll discuss it later,” Joyce said.

  For the next fifteen minutes we listened to news on public radio. We crossed the Hudson River.

  Phyllis cleared her throat. “You know …” she started. “How are you doing? Still hungry? Want to go back to sleep?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Phyllis continued. “I never actually disliked your mother. Your dad says he told you the rock-climbing story. I was annoyed. But I didn’t dislike her. And she did have a problem, so I was worried about both her and your dad when they got married.”

  “It was hard to dislike her,” Joyce continued. “She had a spark. She really seemed to love the world the way a child would. I envied that.”

  “She did,” Phyllis agreed.

  Dad turned to me and said, “She told me once that she wanted to do something really great for the world. She just didn’t know what it would be.”

  “Gosh, why couldn’t she stick around long enough to find out she did give something great to the world?” Phyllis snorted, talking to Dad. “I mean, isn’t that the biggest coincidence? She leaves us all behind, because she’s afraid she’ll miss out on this great thing she wants to do. But she left the great thing with us. She gave us Amalee.”

  I thought of how much work it had taken for Dad’s friends to convince me I was worth anything when I was in the sixth grade. I could imagine thinking, like Sally did, that I’d had to go to an entirely new place to do anything right. I would have to start all over. “Maybe she didn’t like herself, and she thought she had to leave so she could change into something she liked,” I suggested.