“You know what I mean,” she retorts. “Ghet. Toe.”
“Guess some of us have forgotten some of the crappy neighborhoods we lived in. Remember the place on Huds—”
She shushes me as if someone might overhear. “Let’s leave the past where it belongs, shall we?”
No one in her congregation knows about her—our—past. More specifically, they don’t know that for most of her adult life, Mom behaved far more like Mary Magdalene than Mary, Mother of Jesus. Since I look so much like my father, she can’t separate me from the guy she blames for ending her acting career. And I didn’t come up with this idea because we don’t get along. Back when she drank and drank too much, she used to go on about all she could have been if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. If Mom lives vicariously through Margot—and boy, does she ever—I’m the daughter who symbolizes all she’d rather forget.
The group of football players bursts into laughter, catching Mom’s attention. “I guess Danielle told you about Curtis’s surprise. He’s amazing, that man.” She begins to seek out Mr. Amazing himself from the mass of laughing testosterone. One extra-large player steps off to the side and—wait a second. It’s not Curtis holding court, as I’d thought, but Selwyn—standing next to Curtis in his silver suit, drink in hand—life of the party!
“That little bastard.”
“What?” Mom says, looking around.
“Nothing.” I swig back my sparkling water. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t take too long,” she calls from behind. “They’re going to need us at the front table any minute now.”
I march right up to Curtis, who stifles his laughter. “Oh hey, y’all. Look who’s here—it’s my future sister-in-law.” And then he does this thing I hate: He hooks his arm around my neck and pulls me in for a quick kiss on the cheek. I have to fight off the urge to wipe my face.
Curtis is the male version of my sister—dimpled, doe-eyed, completely self-centered. “So, listen up, everybody. I have a big surprise I got goin’ on, and I have to make sure everything is situated. You all should grab your girls, fellas, and find your seats. They’re gonna love what’s comin’ up next.” They all fall into some kind of fist maneuver that involves a series of punches and hand claps that end in a loud “Woop!”
I, meanwhile, shoot a mean glare at Selwyn, who only shrugs and sips his drink. As soon as Curtis leaves, I say, “Can I talk to you for a second?”
One of the Hulk-sized penguins looks from me to the troll. “You know this guy?”
I take Selwyn by the wrist. “Not exactly.”
I march him over to the other side of the room where no one can hear us. He looks up at me sheepishly.
“I told you not to show up here!”
He raises his hands as if completely innocent. “That was Curtis Randolph! I couldn’t resist. Besides, my cousin’s wedding was weak.” He sips his drink. “Wait until I tell everyone at work. Curtis Randolph!” He takes a step back as though suddenly surprised, then looks me up and down while letting loose a slow whistle. “You look good, Kilowatt. Nice dress. Kinda shaped like a sack, but I like it. Shows off your legs.”
“You really need to leave.”
“Hey,” he says, “party’s just getting started. You heard Curtis. We should find a seat, watch the surprise.”
I motion up toward the long banquet table. Mom is already seated and chatting with the Reverend. Margot sits next to Curtis’s mom and his four siblings. “I’m supposed to be up there,” I say. “And you’re not supposed to be here at all.”
His eyes glisten in the low light. “Nice to see you again, Kil.”
I take the drink from his hand and help myself. Ignoring the big grin on his face, I give the glass back and head up to the table. “Leave.”
“Catch you later?” I hear him say.
I keep walking.
I sit next to Mom, who immediately leans over and whispers, “Who’s the short guy?”
The lights dim as the musicians move into an R and B tune. It’s not long before the football player walks in from a side entrance. He’s changed from his tux into a new suit, striped and with tails, as if he’s about to introduce the first circus act of the evening. He asks everyone to be seated. “I have a surprise for my lady.” He waits as everyone takes his or her seat; then he walks over to Margot, who brings her hands to her cheeks in disbelief. “Baby, are you serious? What’s going on?” Curtis grins and gives a nod. At this point, a large screen rolls down from the ceiling, and the lights dim. The sound of a keyboard is heard as images fade in and out: Margot as a baby; a group shot of the football player’s sisters; the football player’s mom; Margot and the Reverend. I can only assume that Danielle helped him find and sort all the pictures.
After the intro is played, the football player says, “I wrote this song for you, Margot. It’s the first song they’re releasing for my new album. The title of the album, y’all, is We Are a Family Built on Love, and that’s the title of this song. You ready? Here it is.” He begins to sing as the pictures continue to flash on-screen. Even I’ll admit he has a nice voice, beautiful even, and I won’t be surprised if his next album reaches number one as well.
I spot Selwyn sitting at a table with an older couple near the back of the hall. I try to catch his attention so I can mouth the word Leave, but he’s oblivious.
The football player starts working the stage, grinning and pointing to family members as he sings. Mom takes the Reverend’s hand when an image of their wedding flashes on-screen, followed by the twins as babies. There are more pictures of his side of the family, then back to Margot sitting on the couch in sweats and no makeup. She screams in embarrassment when the image appears but then laughs good-naturedly. Curtis gives her a kiss and dips into the chorus: “Our song soars like a dove, and we are a family built on love.”
Next is a picture of me at my college graduation, followed by a picture of me at one family function or another. The football player is suddenly in my face with the microphone: “Love never ends even when some of us go to heaven.” The music swells, and he rises to his feet and stands directly behind me. Feeding off the energy in the room, he half sings, half speaks: “We lose our children, we lose people too soon, but our song soars like a dove, and we are a family built on love.”
Another image flashes. It takes me a second to realize I’ve never seen this particular photo. I thought I’d seen every last picture of my daughter, but this one is entirely new. Her hair is in two thick plaits, and she’s laughing as she tries to bite into a slice of pizza that’s too big. It’s a close-up shot, but I can see that she’s wearing her new dinosaur T-shirt, the same T-shirt I bought for her while we were at the natural history museum one week before she died. “Where is that picture from?” I hear myself ask.
Curtis raises his hand as he begins to improvise on the word heaven. I stare up at the photo again, and this time I yell, “Who took that picture? Where did it come from?”
Mom clasps my hand, willing me to calm down. The Reverend leans over and whispers, “Your mother and I were babysitting. We took Hailey out for pizza. I took that picture.”
I look back toward the screen, but the picture is gone, replaced by a photo of the football player on the field.
I can feel a sweat coming on and my stomach dip and shrink. It’s been four years, eight months, and I still don’t know when I’ll lose it. Sometimes I’ll burst into tears while doing something as mundane as cleaning my apartment or picking up groceries. Even now I feel out-of-body with that picture, an image of my daughter I’ve never seen before, sending me into a tailspin.
My eyes well just as the football player tries to remedy the situation by raising my hand in a kind of “We Are the World” fashion and singing all the louder. “Love never ends even when some of us go to heaven.” Then he adds, “Our loved ones are in a better place!”
I hate him mor
e than ever now, and before I know what I’m doing, I rise from the table and shove him as hard as I can. I hear a collective “Whoa” from everyone in the room. “Leave me the fuck alone!”
When he tries to hug me, I push him again, but he’s a wall of muscle and doesn’t budge. “You are my sister,” he croons. “I am your brother. I understand your loss. Take it to the cross.”
“Shut the fuck up! You’re a fucking idiot! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” I catch sight of Margot just as her mouth falls open in shock. Mom takes her hand, her own expression a mixture of horror and worry.
I rush away from the table, my eyes blurry with tears. I hear Mom calling after me, but I’m practically running now. An older woman dressed in a sequined gown stands up from her table and opens her arms. I push past her. I move past all of them, doing my best not to trip and fall. I keep my eyes glued to the back of the room, locked on one person who might be able to help.
Selwyn is already on his feet by the time I reach him. Before he can say anything, I look at him hopefully. “Get me out of here?”
He tosses aside his napkin. “You got it, baby.”
three
Selwyn handles the car with an ease that signals he’s sober enough to drive. When he reaches for the stereo, I touch his hand and softly shake my head no.
The clock illuminates the time: 10:06.
It isn’t until we reach the bottom of the first hill and have the choice of right or left that he says anything. “Which way?”
I point left.
We continue in silence until we reach another stop. I point left again, and we follow a curvy road down one hill and up another. We drive on in silence until he says, “Listen, about earlier today. I know how I came across, and I want you to know that wasn’t me.”
“Who was it, then?”
“I don’t know. I had too much bourbon, but I really am a gentleman.”
“Fine.”
“I feel like I should explain, because I like you and don’t want you to think I’m a nut.”
“What do you care if I like you or not? You don’t even know me.”
“I feel like I do. Haven’t you ever had a feeling about someone? I like you.”
“You must be really lonely,” I grumble.
After a pause I hear him say, “I have a feelin’ you are, too.”
I turn and stare out the window. Whatever.
What I really want is a drink. At the same time, though, I’m not desperate enough to ask him to take me to a bar—that would feel too tacky, even for me. Still, some kind of cure-all sure would help right about now. I just want to shake the image of that picture.
I feel my eyes tear up, and I turn farther toward the window. The wind has picked up, and the trees along the road take on the shape of ten-foot-tall nebulae, elongated and eerie. I catch glimpses of San Francisco’s skyline as the car begins to make an ascent up a steep hill.
It’s not until we reach Bear Grove Lane that I realize where I’ve been leading Selwyn all along. Focused now, I sit up straight and start giving specific directions. Soon, we come to a parking lot at the end of a dirt road. The lot is empty and sits before a gravel pathway that looks as if it leads to nowhere.
Selwyn eases the car into a parking space and cuts the engine. “Where are we?”
“You’ll see.” I climb out of the car; he follows suit, pausing before he closes the door. “Kilowatt, what’s going on? Where are we?”
“It’s a surprise. Trust me.”
He eyes me suspiciously, then goes to his trunk and takes out a flashlight and a blanket, followed by some kind of kit with the word EMERGENCY printed on the front.
“What the hell is all that?”
“Precautionary measures. Look around you. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Who knows what’ll happen. This kind of stuff comes in handy.”
“A blanket?” I say. “What do you think we’re going to do, take a nap?”
“You ever heard of Donner Pass?”
“What does Donner Pass have to do with anything? Trust me, Selwyn; nothing’s going to happen. And if it does, I promise I will not eat you.”
He remains dubious but returns the blanket and emergency kit. “I’m keeping this, though,” he says, raising the flashlight.
“Fine.” I feel the cold air on my bare arms and hug myself.
“You’re going to freeze in that dress. If you don’t want the blanket, at least take my jacket.” He gives me his jacket, and I thank him. Due to his height, it hits right at my hips, and except for the length of the too-short sleeves, it fits perfectly.
We start down the gravel road with me doing my best in my heels not to topple over. It’s perfectly quiet except for the sounds of our shoes. The light from the flashlight creates skeletal shadows.
“You know what this reminds me of?” he says. “One of those horror movies. With the teenagers. I feel like any minute somebody’s going to jump out from behind a tree wearing a hockey mask, and he’s going to strangle us and leave us out here for dead.”
I stop, midwalk. It’s not so dark that he can’t see the irritated glare I give him.
“What?” He shrugs. “I’m just sayin’.” We continue walking. He’s quiet a beat, then says, “Why do you think hockey masks are so freaky?”
“Just—,” I start. “Just be quiet, all right?”
We walk until we reach a chain-link fence. To the right, a sign reads LEHMAN LABORATORIES: WHERE SPACE AND SCIENCE MEET.
“I get it,” he says slowly. “This is some kind of X-Files madness. You’re a secret agent fighting off aliens, and you want me to join the agency.”
“Selwyn, if I worked for any agency at all, trust me, I would not ask you to join.”
He chuckles. “Sure thing, Agent Scully.”
I shake my head and walk up to the fence. Usually it’s open and visitors walk right in, but now there’s a lock at the entrance. “It’s locked,” I say, giving the lock a worthless tug. “I don’t believe it.”
“I do. Look.” He points to the signs on the left: NO TRESPASSING! DANGER: KEEP OUT! I rebut by pointing to the small sign just to the right: SPACE LAB: OPEN TO THE PUBLIC TUESDAYS AND THURSDAYS. EVENING VIEWINGS SIX–MIDNIGHT.
“Kilowatt, today’s Saturday.”
“Crap. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Well. Can’t say we didn’t try. Let’s get out of here.”
“Don’t you want to know what I was going to show you?” I point down the pathway that starts on the other side of the fence. In the distance, the top of a large dome peeks through the trees. “See there. That’s where they keep the Betacam telescope. It’s housed in the building past the science lab. The building with the dome. I was going to show it to you.”
“A telescope, huh? What do you know.” Not impressed in the least, he turns to leave.
“Wait a second. Have you ever looked at the stars through a telescope?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
I shake my head in a pitiful manner that says he’s just proven my point. “I really want you to see this.”
“It’s closed.”
I think for a second. “There are two standard telescopes set up around the entrance to the Betacam. We could use those. It won’t be the same, but it’s a start.”
“Great. But the gate’s locked, and the sign says ‘No Trespassing.’”
“Yeah, but we didn’t drive all the way out here only to turn back. And besides, no one’s around.” Without any warning, I take off my shoes, toss them over the fence, and start climbing.
“Kilowatt! What the hell are you doing, baby? You can’t do that. It’s illegal! You’re trespassing!”
I stop climbing long enough to look back at the empty parking lot and quiet road. “Do you think anyone’s gonna care?”
&nb
sp; I continue my climb. I’m feeling good now. I’m a modern-day Spider-Woman. I’m queen of the world.
Selwyn calls up. “Where I come from, fences mean keep out. That sign right there says ‘Keep Out.’ So I’m thinking if a person wants to avoid jail, she should get back down here and keep out.”
“Don’t be a wimp,” I say, glancing down. “This is fun.”
“Wimp, huh?” he mutters. “Wimp?”
“Yeah. Wimp. Scare-dee-cat. Chicken!”
He makes a point of grumbling loudly before sticking the flashlight in his back pocket. “Call me a wimp . . .” He spits in each hand and rubs them together like a gymnast ready to take on the parallel bars. He’s surprisingly lithe, and in no time at all catches up with me. “I climbed a few of these back in the day,” he says, seeing how surprised I am by his agility. “I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say I had to make a few getaways back in my youth.” I watch as he hoists himself up and over and starts making his way down, leaving me, meanwhile, stuck at the top. I can’t figure out how to get my leg up and over without tearing my dress, falling, or both.
“Don’t think too much,” he advises, his feet already safely planted on the ground.
“Easy for you to say.”
I hoist up my dress and lift one leg over the top, wondering briefly if I’ve given Selwyn a show. Not exactly sure how to go about my next move, I remain frozen with my left leg on one side of the fence and my right on the other.
“Take your time!” Selwyn teases. “We have all night.”
“Let’s see you do this in a dress,” I retort.
I try to find footing but have trouble with my left leg, specifically, how to convince it to move.
“You’re thinking too much, Kilowatt! You’re gonna lose your nerve.”
“You’re talking too much, Selwyn. Shut up!”
I count to three and kick my leg over, but my dress catches and I lose my balance. I dangle for a second, too afraid to move, but then I hear the inevitable rip and down I go. I scream and try to grab at the fence in hopes of easing my fall, but I’m moving too fast. The only thing stopping me from landing on my ass entirely is that I fall against Selwyn, sending him stumbling backward until he hits the ground along with me.
Shake Down the Stars Page 4