“I want to start by saying that I know what I did was wrong. I know that I abused alcohol. I take full responsibility for my behavior, which was immature, cavalier, and potentially dangerous. It was the first time in my life getting drunk, and because of the repercussions, I take alcohol use very seriously.” I took a breath and another sip of water. “It says in the Brown Code of Conduct that the university expects that members of the Brown community be truthful and forthright, so I’ve prepared as forthright and truthful an explanation as possible.”
Coach Stacy leaned in. Dean Fantini recrossed his long legs. Claudia Gonzales sighed and made some notes. I pulled out the copies of the picture of Nina and the list and handed one to each of them. “This is Nina Clayton; she was in the class of 1989.”
I went on to explain that she had been my best friend’s mother and a role model to me. I told them that she had passed away the year before. I told them the story of the broken frame and my discovery of the list. Coach Stacy smiled as she read the list. “This is so eighties!” she said.
I held up the Rodin book. “Rodin said, ‘Nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely.’ It was in the spirit of these words that I set about living this list on Nantucket. I wanted to do something with my summer besides serve lobster rolls to people in pink pants and seersucker jackets.”
Dr. Fantini nodded.
“When I found this book in the thrift store, it felt like a sign so I began with number one: Visit Rodin Museum in Paris. I studied these pictures every night. I couldn’t believe how alive they felt, even in a book that’s thirty years old. The sculptures have the spark of life. When I watched a surfer out at Cisco Beach, I saw Saint John the Baptist and The Walking Man. I saw The Thinker and The Kiss. Because of Rodin, I saw something more than a surfer. I saw art in motion. So, in this first endeavor, I was successful. I had experienced Rodin without leaving Nantucket.”
Dr. Fantini adjusted his glasses and made some notes.
“I moved on to number two: Learn to drive and then drive Route 1 to Big Sur.” I took a sip of water and continued. “I already know how to drive, so I decided to learn to drive stick. I learned in a 1976 Land Rover on the back roads of Nantucket.” I smiled, remembering the day with Ben and how the car had taken off without us. “And this led me down a surprising path, both literal and figurative. I saw parts of the island I wouldn’t have seen, but also I think learning a new skill can open up a new road. While I was focusing on driving, I allowed myself to sing without self-consciousness, and it reminded me how much I like to sing, even if I don’t have perfect pitch. In pushing ourselves to try new things, we find other parts of ourselves, the back roads of our souls.” I scanned the faces of the committee members. Coach Stacy and Dr. Fantini looked pleased, but Claudia Gonzales remained expressionless. Maybe I’d pushed it too far with “back roads of our souls.” In a last-minute decision, I decided not to sing. Jules had been right. It was too awkward.
“When you look at number three, you might see the connection between the list and why I’m standing here today. Drink Campari on the Amalfi Coast with Alison. Alison was Nina’s best friend. Nina’s daughter, Jules, was my best friend. Until Nina died. The tragedy of her death separated us, and I missed her so much. Losing a best friend is like losing a piece of yourself, and I wanted so much to connect with her again. I wanted the ease we used to have in our friendship, an ease that seemed epitomized by the idea of drinking Campari in Italy.
“I was so inexperienced with alcohol. Like I said, I’d never been drunk before. That night, I was totally caught up with a feeling of freedom. At some point, I let that freedom get the better of me. I lost control. It was so scary.” My voice shook a little. “I never want to lose control like that again. If anything good came out of this, it’s that I have a deeper commitment to my own health and safety and that of those around me.”
I mentioned that Jules had revealed to me that the Woody Allen movie Nina had been in was Crimes and Misdemeanors, and this made all of them laugh, even Claudia Gonzales. I told them that I had written a letter to Woody Allen to see if he would let me audition for him.
“How did that go?” Ms. Gonzales asked, blinking in amazement.
“Let’s put it this way,” I said, “I’m not exactly a working actress.” They laughed again.
“I’m not auditioning for Woody Allen,” I said, “I’m auditioning for the role of Brown student, and I am ready to throw myself into the part. See, I don’t just want to read about Rodin in a book. I want to take a class with an expert. And I don’t just want to look at pictures from the 1950s. I want to study midcentury America. Instead of drinking Campari from a liquor store on Nantucket, I want to take Italian classes. And while I’m pretty sure I don’t want to audition for a movie, I want to know why people are so crazy about Woody Allen, maybe through a film-theory class.
“I know I made a mistake,” I continued. “A big mistake. But I am exactly the kind of student you want. With this list, I’ve demonstrated that I live my curiosity. I pursue learning with a passion. I take meaningful risks. And I want to take more of them, here, at Brown.”
“What about the last item on the list?” Ms. Gonzales asked, holding up her copy.
“Oh, yeah.” I’d gotten so swept up in my grand finale that I’d forgotten about Nina’s last wish: See St. Francis from altar. “That one’s a mystery to me,” I said, trying to remember what I’d planned to say. “It represents what I don’t know, and maybe what none of us knows, what eludes us but keeps us looking.”
“Wow,” Coach Stacy said, beaming. “Good answer.”
“That was quite a presentation,” Dr. Fantini said.
“We’ll talk and get back to you in twenty-four hours,” Claudia Gonzales said. Coach Stacy smiled and gave me a secret thumbs-up.
I nodded. “I look forward to hearing from you.” Why, I wondered, did I feel a knot in the back of my throat? I thanked them all again and gathered my things. This is what I want, I told myself.
“You know, Cricket,” Dr. Fantini said as I was leaving, “I think that last thing on the list is about Larsen’s Comet.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Why?”
“A group of French monks near the Italian border viewed this comet during the feast of Saint Francis and thought it was a sign from the heavens. There was a sickness in their village, and after the comet appeared, many were healed. They thought it was Saint Francis himself. Scientists have always credited the discovery of the comet to the Danish astronomer Anders Larsen. But some folks from a certain part of France have always believed it was Saint Francis. Was Nina French?”
“Her grandmother was,” I said.
Dr. Fantini beamed. “The last time the comet was visible was in 1939, so her grandmother probably saw it herself, and perhaps she wanted her granddaughter to see Saint Francis in the sky. It’s one theory, anyway. I can’t explain the ‘altar’ part, though.”
“I can,” I said. “It’s a place on Nantucket.”
“Would it be a good place to see the stars?”
“It would be perfect,” I said, realizing that if I could see the comet from Altar Rock, it would be the only thing on the list I could actually complete, for now, anyway. It was the one thing that Nina hadn’t actually been able to do.
“This is the last week that the comet is going to be visible, and the forecast calls for rain for the rest of the week, so I suggest you get out there. It’s not coming this way for another seventy-five years,” Dean Fantini said. “I can’t wait to tell my wife. She will love this story. It’s very romantic.”
“Wow, thanks,” I said. “You solved the mystery.”
“There’s still plenty of mystery out there. For all of us,” he said.
I thanked him, and as soon as I was out of the office, I pulled up the ferry schedule on my phone.
Forty-two
�
��JULES, I FIGURED IT OUT,” I said, standing outside the Brown admissions office. “You’re not going to believe this. But you know that last thing on the list? Your mom was talking about Larsen’s Comet. I guess a lot of French people think that it was Saint Francis, appearing in a miracle. And your great-grandmother is French, right?”
“Yes. She’s French, all right. Why do you think I suffered through so many years of Madame Smith? That’s so crazy. And you know what? Mom always said that Altar Rock was the best place to see the stars.”
“This is one thing on her life list that she didn’t get to do, Jules! We need to get out to Altar Rock tonight, because it’s supposed to rain the rest of the week and then it’s not coming again for another seventy-five years. Seventy-five years! Oh my god, there’s a fast ferry that leaves at six p.m. Can you get to Hyannis? Can you pick me up on the way?”
“Cricket, this is so cool, but I’m not going back to Nantucket. I’m with Jay.”
Oh, I thought. Oh, yeah. She was in love, and when a person is in love, there is no one else as important as that person. I knew what that felt like. Once, I had felt that way. Once, Zack had been that person and I had been that person to Zack. I squinted against the pain of knowing that that wasn’t true anymore.
“I just got here,” Jules said. “Besides, I’ve already seen the comet. This list? It’s your thing. Your thing with my mom. You go ahead.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she said. “He did it last night, by the way. Dad’s engaged.”
“Really? I’m sorry.”
“I’ll get over it,” she said. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Jay and I are at a restaurant. He’s waiting for me. I kind of have to go.”
“Okay,” I said, starting my walk back home.
“But wait,” she said. “How’d it go with Brown?”
“It went well,” I said, heading toward Thayer Street. “I think I did it. I mean, fingers crossed.”
“How was the scrimmage?”
“I scored. Twice.”
“That’s awesome! I knew it! Okay, Jay is waving to me. He got us a table. Igottagoloveyoubye.” I felt her growing up, arcing away from high school. I didn’t want her to grow up any faster than I did. Now that we were best friends again, I wanted us to be in lockstep with each other, but she was getting out of Providence, even if only to Boston, and I had just fought with all of my might to stay.
As I walked down Thayer Street toward my mom’s house, my heart was heavy. I was in the center of the Brown campus. And I knew every café. I knew every store. I knew every crack in the sidewalk. There was the Avon, the single-screen movie theater where I’d seen foreign films with Jules. There was the Thai place that Mom ordered from twice a week the year of the divorce. There was the hot-dog stand I’d been going to since I was six. I knew these streets so well I could’ve walked home blindfolded.
A girl in a Brown Women’s Lacrosse T-shirt came out of the 7-Eleven and started walking in my direction. I saw Fiona and Bitsy a few steps behind her, chatting and laughing. I darted into the vintage clothing store where Jules and I had bought our Halloween costumes two years ago. I held my breath and watched them pass by from the window. Fiona’s words haunted me. Lacrosse is our life. Three hours a day. Every day. And every weekend, too.
My phone rang. It was a Brown number.
“Hello?” I said. The bell above the door rang faintly as I left the store. I leaned against the glass of the storefront and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hi, Cricket. It’s Claudia Gonzales. I’m so delighted to welcome you back into the class of 2018. We were right about you the first time.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
She went on to tell me about registration and orientation, but I could barely hear her. I was light-headed. My ears were buzzing. I felt faint. I sat on the curb. As soon as I hung up, I burst into tears.
Forty-three
I FELT ZACK BEFORE I SAW HIM. I approached Altar Rock and shivered, even though the evening air was soft and warm and beckoning. I’d taken the bus and the fast ferry and then ridden one of the inn’s bikes to Altar Road. I ditched it when I realized it’d be easier to walk on the wide dirt path. I felt Zack here, but when I climbed to the top of Altar Rock and saw him waiting for me, I lost my breath with surprise.
“No,” I said. “You need to go. Because I’m not leaving until I see this comet, and we can’t both be here.”
“There’s room for two,” he said, fanning out his arms.
“Zack, come on.”
“I needed to see you.” He shifted his weight. “Jules called me. She told me that you’d be here. Because of Mom.”
“You could’ve warned me. Is Parker here? Is your girlfriend here?” I covered my face and shook my head. “I came all the way from Providence. Please, Zack. Don’t ruin this for me. Just go away.”
“She’s not here. And she’s not my girlfriend. Look, if I told you I was going to be here, you would’ve run away.” He stepped toward me. I stepped back. “Jules told me that you got back in?”
“Yeah,” I said, “after fighting like a warrior.” Zack smiled, and I felt a flash of embarrassment at my word choice. “But what Parker did? It’s not okay. It will never be okay. And the fact that you didn’t break up with her, that will never be okay with me, either. Ever.”
“I did break up with her. This morning. There’s a lot you don’t know about her.”
“Don’t ask me to have sympathy for her, Zack. Jesus Christ. Don’t do that.”
“She tried to kill herself this year.”
“Oh.” I covered my mouth.
“You can’t just break up with a girl like that. You have to make sure she’s stable. I mean, can you imagine what it would be like if she tried it again, right after I broke up with her? If she’d actually done it? I’d have to carry that my whole life.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I had no idea.”
“She’s got a real problem,” Zack said. “I tried to tell you without telling you. Jules did, too.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“When a United States senator asks you to keep your mouth shut”—he shook his head—“you keep your mouth shut.”
“But I still don’t understand why. Why does she care about me?”
“She saw the video I took of you,” he said, “and it was so clear.”
“What was?” I wanted more than suggestion from him. I wanted him to spell out his thoughts for me in plain, brave English. No more high fives. No more drunken almost-kisses. No more meaningful underwater touches. I crossed my arms. “What was clear?”
“That I’m still in love with you!” He sounded almost pissed off about it.
“Oh.” The words I’d dreamed about and hungered for didn’t come out the way I would have expected. I stood there, stunned, trying to absorb them.
“She shouldn’t have tried to sabotage you,” he said. “It was really messed-up. She’s really messed-up. But it’s not so simple. She was there for me last year. I was all alone. My mom died. I was at a new school. I was lost.”
The idea of Zack alone, in pain, felt like a pill stuck in my throat or a splinter on the verge of infection, too tender to touch. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “I was lost, too. I was alone.”
“I tried to tell you,” he said. “That call before Thanksgiving?”
“You interpreted that all wrong. I told you.”
“Parker actually showed up, in person.” My blood pressure dropped below sea level. “Everything changed. I had friends. I had fun. And one night it just kind of happened. I didn’t know what I was getting into. I didn’t know how screwed up she was. I don’t think she did, either. The doctor said depression can come on suddenly at this age.”
“This is a lot to deal with. Do you h
ave any idea what the past few weeks have been like for me?”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he said. He wrapped his hand around mine. I closed my eyes. It was his hand. Zack’s hand. That person’s hand. “I understand if you don’t feel the same.”
“I do, though. I do feel the same.”
He took my other hand and leaned in so that our heads touched. “I’ve missed you. That night. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to kiss you so badly.” He stepped closer so that our cheeks were touching, so that he was whispering in my ear. “I wanted to do more. I wanted to do everything.”
He turned to kiss me. I kissed him back, but pulled away when I felt tears rising. “This whole thing really hurt, Zack. I think we need to just be friends for a little while.” I said this even as my whole body was sending me another message. He met my gaze and nodded. “I’m so confused. About so many things.”
“Tell me,” he said. We sat on the rock and he put his arms around me. I looked up. The sky was getting darker now, but it was also getting cloudier. “Tell me what you’re confused about.”
“I don’t want to go to Brown.” I leaned into him.
“What?”
“I’ve lived in Providence my whole life. I want to live somewhere else.” It felt so good to release the truth, to surrender to it. “I don’t want to go. And I love lacrosse. But I also feel, I don’t know, done with it.”
“When did this happen?” he asked, weaving his fingers with mine.
“It’s been happening,” I said, wiping away tears with the heel of my hand. “All summer.” I tried to pinpoint the moment when I had started to want something else; to go somewhere else; to be myself, but different.
“Because of that guy?”
“No, not really.” Was it that night singing on the beach? “I don’t know.” Was it when I first cracked open the Rodin book? Or was it that moment on the ferry, when I’d seen Nina’s list and felt her with me?
Nantucket Red (Nantucket Blue) Page 19