by Lewin, Renee
To distract myself from the distress of being kept in the dark, I change the subject. “I feel weird, Manny. I read Joey’s journal today.”
“Really! How did you get a hold of his journal?”
“His mom left it and wanted me to read it aloud to him.”
“Wow. You reading Joey’s journal. How perfect.”
“How?”
“I don’t know what I’m saying, Sis.”
“I feel guilty about this. It’ll be kind of awkward when he wakes up.”
“It should be pretty interesting, yes.”
“Did you know that when he was fourteen he fought off his stepdad and he almost…”
“Yup. I know everything.”
I’m quiet. I was so wrong about Joey. I once thought he was a woman abuser, but the way he defended his mother from Mason makes that impossible to believe. “How did you two become such good friends anyway?” I wonder aloud. “You started working together and all of a sudden you guys are inseparable.”
“We just realized that we could help each other. That we were the friends we’d needed long ago.”
“Cute.”
“Yes I am.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Sis. I’ll try and call you tomorrow or something.”
“Call me every night you can. I’ll be home.”
“Alrighty, I will. You won’t be lonely for long, Laney. Uncle Frank will be there soon.”
I smile at Manny’s ability to read me. “Goodnight.” I hang up the phone, set my alarm, and drift into a comfortable slumber.
SEVEN
“I hope that fool rots in jail.”
“Marisol! Don’t say that about him, Cuzzo!”
“I don’t care what his situation was. His mom died, his dad’s crazy and his sister is a stuck-up witch. That don’t matter. Everybody was cool with Joey. Even if they didn’t like him, he was a good guy and they knew that. He looked out for a lot of girls, including you Denise, so don’t tell me I shouldn’t be pissed off at Manny.”
“Yeah, Joey is one of the sweetest people I know, but his temper is off the charts sometimes. And Manny is really nice too. I can’t imagine Manny hurting Joey on purpose.”
“Manny was nice to you because he wanted to get some.”
Denise giggles. “That may be true, but he knows we will never be more than friends.”
“Ha! So that’s what you were telling him that night at the party, but you tripped and your lips connected with his, right?”
Grinning, Denise says “I was vulnerable! And tipsy, too. That kiss didn’t mean anything. He knows that. What about you, young lady? You ain’t innocent either! I seen you talking to Raul at the game.”
“I’m sexy. What can I say?” Marisol said smiling devilishly.
“Yeah, but Elaine, his girlfriend, was sitting right there on the sidelines. Raul was taken.”
“Not anymore. He broke up with Elaine a couple days ago. He came over to chill at my house this afternoon.”
“Nah. You’ve got the story twisted. Elaine broke up with him.”
“Whatever. He never wanted her. End of story.”
“They went out since forever, since high school. What do you mean he didn’t want her? He loved her.”
“Ha! Sure. He loved her so much he asked me out right in front of her face. She liked to think she was better than everybody, yet she’s too stupid to get a clue. Her dumb ass let him disrespect her like that in front of everybody so she deserves it.”
“Be nice. Raul was, like, her only friend in school. He’s the only one she talked to outside of her family.”
“And whose fault is that! As soon as her father started running Merjoy she started smellin’ herself and didn’t talk to none of us no more. You, me, Ariella; She stopped talking with all of us.”
“I don’t know. Everybody changed once we started high school. Even you.”
“No. I didn’t suddenly think I was better than everyone else.”
Denise sighs. “Anyway, I’m really worried about Joey. Every time I think of him lying in that hospital bed I just…”
“I know, cousin. It sucks. He’s the best player on Las Chupasangres, too. I think they stopped all the soccer matches out of respect for him.”
“I wish there was something I could do to help him. He helped me so much.”
“Ooo! We could have a fundraiser or a benefit for him! We could raise money for his hospital bills and stuff. Give it to his mom!”
“That would be perfect! I have a great idea for a flyer already!”
“Yeah, I can pass them out to everyone for you. Stick them up on doors and store windows and stuff. Hold on, my phone is beeping.” There is a pause as Marisol looks at the caller ID, followed by an agitated groan. “Surprise, surprise. Guess who’s calling again?”
“Raul?! This is the second time in forty-five minutes! What is his deal? Tell him to stop interrupting our Girl Talk.”
“He’s buggin’ out about his family problems. I keep telling him to stop worrying because he’ll figure out the right thing to do eventually, but as you can see he’s too damn clingy to take advice and then go away to actually use it.”
“Estoy de acuerdo, prima. I agree, cousin. “
“I’ll call you back when I’m done talking him down.
******
No flight delays, so I expect to see him walk through soon; at 10:10 AM precisely. I sit waiting in my tank top and pajama bottoms by the luggage claim conveyor belts. Thankfully and unfortunately I’d slept later than expected. I was grateful to experience a full night’s sleep for the first time since the accident.
It occurred to me that everyone I ever loved had left me. I decided I was either cursed or unbearable. Or both. Why else would death and sickness and accidents fall upon every person in my life? They were the flowers that wilted and withered underneath the grim strangulating shadow I cast onto them. With that grave insight I found myself an insomniac.
The only reason I slept last night was the knowledge that someone I cared about wanted to see me. I overslept and, in a panic that Uncle Frank would think I’d forgotten about him, hopped into the truck wearing the clothes I’d slept in and rushed to the airport. I arrived early. Shifting my weight does little to make the chair I sat in comfortable. My eyelids are heavy with sleep. Mid-yawn, I spot a familiar head of hair in the advancing group of ex-passengers walking towards the luggage conveyor belt. His hair is salt-and-pepper, but much more pepper than salt and more of a dark brown color than black. The green Hawaiian shirt he wears clashes with his black jean shorts. Sleek black sunglasses shade his eyes, but I already know it is him; he’s wearing brown steel-toed boots.
I watch him advance as I sit in my chair almost bursting with the anticipation of him recognizing me. He scratches at his lined forehead and then rakes his fingers through his thick hair. His line of sight finally falls in my direction. My leg is bouncing and I can’t control it. I watch a wide smile splash across his face. He separates from the pack. I stand up from my seat just as he pulls the sunglasses off of his face and hooks them onto his collar, revealing his clever green eyes. I laugh at the sight of tan lines from the glasses at his temples and lose all composure as he uses his free arm to hug me. “Good to see you, too,” he chuckles at my loss for words as tears stream down my face and I laugh out a cry. We walk over to the luggage claim area to wait for his other bags and I still can’t stop blubbering. I lean my head into his shoulder. He rubs mine and repeats, “It’s alright. I’m here.”
Walking towards the parking garage elevator he asks, “What happened to your lip?”
“I got caught in the middle of the fight, took a punch from Joey that was meant for Manny.”
“Damn. Did you sock him back?” We step into the elevator.
“Oh sure. Couldn’t let him get away with that,” I kid. Joey and I were both equally startled by his punch.
I push the button for the sixth floor. At the truck Uncle Frank hauls
one of his suitcases over into the back. I take the other smaller bag and lug it over as well. It meets the floor of the truck with a thud.
“Whoa! Laney! What if I had my heirloom crystal poodle figurines in there?” he laughs.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize how hard I swung it over.”
“Where are your glasses, by the way? Last I heard they were stuck on your face like an oxygen mask.” We go inside the truck.
“Oh. I just stopped wearing them, I guess. Things change, but only when I allow them to, or when it somehow slips under my radar.”
“Ha ha! You wish. Well, good. People can see your face better without the glasses, and your eyes. You have beautiful brown eyes, like your mother, like Marna. You’re strong like her, too.” Uncle Frank sighs as he drums his fingers on the passenger door. “Your dad was a very lucky man.”
I hold back a grin, proud to hear I have her likeness. She was a timeless beauty.
“How’s Edward doing since he came home? You left him home to come pick me up from the airport, so he’s good then?”
Slowly, I shake my head. “No.” I see him look over at me out of the corner of my eye. I can’t look back at him.
“No?” he asks. “Do you mean, ‘No, he’s not doing well’?”
“No.”
“No, you didn’t leave him at home and he’s actually huddling in the back of the truck as we speak?”
“No,” I smile.
“No, you didn’t actually pick me up from the airport because you’re not really my niece, you’re a Laneydroid?”
I laugh and release some of the tension that had formed a lump in my throat. I sniffle. “He decided to stay at Palo Verde so he could…take himself off of my hands.” I glance at Uncle Frank. He looks straight ahead and nods furiously trying to convince himself that it was a good thing my dad, his best friend, would choose isolation from his friends and family in a mental hospital.
“Sure, sure. Your dad might need a new environment where he can learn new skills to improve living with his illness, improve his well being and so forth. It would improve your well being too and Manny’s. You kids can be free! You two won’t have to worry about taking care of Eddie every day. College, careers, travel; all of that at your finger tips now! And I…I can still visit him at the hospital. I’m sure he and I will, um, keep in touch.”
I nod in response. The trip home became quiet except for the low rock music playing on the radio. I make my way off of the highway, down the sloping exit and onto the main street of the town. Referred to as the Main Road by all the townspeople, it is the widest and smoothest street in town. Going left would take me to the schools, the Lutheran church and the factories. I turn right, in the direction of home. The paved Main Street is lined with brick-faced buildings which include the post office, the bank, a doctor’s office, a food store, a thrift store, boutiques, a salon and barbershop, a Catholic church, a pawnshop, a pizza parlor and arcade, a Chinese restaurant, an old movie theater, and numerous bars. You’d never guess that hidden a ways just past the string of buildings is Amo Lake. If you want to shop at a mall you’ll have to get back onto the highway to an actual city such as Duncan.
Further down the road are the relatively new cookie-cutter homes with their three bedroom, two bathroom, two car garage layouts painted in safe neutral shades. The developers of the Cadence Village Homes did, however, spice things up by sometimes building the garage on the left side of the house and other times on the right. These mortgage-paying commuters, their children were once my condescending classmates. They were the students who believed they were more civilized than us trailer trash heathens. Really the debaucheries and problems of The Village Kids were just like those of The Park Kids, just wrapped up in more expensive packages. I admit there are a couple decent people from that better part of town who are sincerely nice and whom I held intelligent conversations with back in high school. However, I wouldn’t call them my friends. I never let them get that close.
After about two miles the homes abruptly stop and The Tumbleweeds become more prevalent. The Tumbleweeds are the unsound homes and trailers sprinkled around. It’s a struggle for these houses to withstand the weather. It’s a fight for the owners to keep their families fed. The Tumbleweeds are people both the Village Kids and Park Kids agree to look down on. After half a mile of desert view that seems to stretch out endlessly, only briefly interrupted by our local bar and Mr. Jeremy’s convenience store on the left, you stumble upon Merjoy Trailer Park on the right. It is literally the end of the road because the main road becomes a dead end. Entering Merjoy Trailer Park, the fairly large development of bright painted trailers that bear his name, Uncle Frank’s mood picks up. “Memories, memories,” he muses.
The two roads in the development are all dirt roads cut through reddish-brown, sandy Arizona soil. There’s also a path to the soccer field. One road dead ends at the park office right across from my house. I reverse the truck up under the awning of our trailer so the back of it is closer to the front door. Now that the truck is stationary I can feel how truly hot it is outside. It must be in the low 90s. With great heat come great rains. I hope it rains soon. Uncle Frank and I step out of the truck and I pick up his lightest bag. I walk up to the door and when I see what’s there the bag slips out of my hand, smacking against the front steps.
“Laney!” Uncle Frank scolds, “My precious poodles! They…” He is silenced by what he sees. “What the hell is that about?” He abandons his bag in the bed of the truck and walks up to the door. He rips off one of the dozens of flyers wallpapering the front door. Each pink flyer is designed with a flowered border and has a close-up picture taken of Denise and Joey, cheek to cheek, smiling at the camera. “Keep El Fuego Alive! Donate money for The Great Joey Kinsley’s hospital bills. Drop your envelopes at #25. Hugs and Kisses, Denise Rubio and Friends,” he reads aloud.
I’m clawing at the flyers. They are all over. I can’t even see the door handle. I peel some down and there’s another layer underneath. I’m ripping them away and Uncle Frank joins me. Both of us are removing the posters and I just want to scream until my throat is raw. I made damn sure my life was separate from theirs. I dropped her and Marisol and every other backstabbing slut who ever knew me. With a clean cut, I never looked back. I didn’t seek revenge, I didn’t call them out of their names to their faces, I just distanced myself so they wouldn’t have to bother with me ever again and vice versa and this is how they treat me?
Is nothing ever over with these stupid little girls? He’s not on life support! He doesn’t needs to be “kept alive”! I’m the one there in the hospital with Joey, not her or any of the other females. Denise knew exactly what she was doing by plastering these flyers on my door. Memories of the first week of freshman year flood my senses. I found my locker scribbled all over with profanities written in permanent marker by angry Park Kids. When there was no longer room on my locker for graffiti, banners firing abusive words lay across my locker like caution tape. I tried, so hard, to forget those things. I never forgave them. Why should I? They never apologized for it. Dating Raul effectively placed tape over the mouths of the neighborhood posse. Now that he and I are no longer together the backstabbers are becoming fearless.
“Laney? Are you okay, Laney?” Uncle Frank’s voice sounds so far away. I’m gripping the ripped up flyers so tight in my hands that my fingers throb. “Laney, just take a deep breath.” My tight jaw responds with a cracking sound as I loosen it. I breathe in and out from my mouth and feel the heat at my face and neck dissipating. “Let’s go inside and sit down,” Uncle Frank says and guides me into the house and to a chair around the dining table.
He peels the papers from my hands and tosses them into the trash with the rest of the flyers. A plate of toast with prickly pear cactus jelly and a cup of chilled green tea are placed in front of me. I ignore the toast and bring the cool glass to my mouth. Uncle Frank sits across from me at the small table, watching me with his hand over his mouth. He shakes his head a
nd runs a hand through his hair as if frustrated.
“Elaine, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this has happened to you,” he says looking down at the surface of the wood table.
“Which ‘this’ are you talking about?” I ask glumly.
He looks up at me. “I’m sorry you experienced all of the…events you’ve gone through as a young woman, but I am sincerely so sorry, Elaine, for the events that I caused by leaving you guys behind. The neighborhood, your classmates, all turning on you like that! I left a financial mess in your father’s hands and, believe me, if I had any idea it would end up affecting you to this day, I would have never”
“Uncle Frank, no. No. You are absolutely not going to take responsibility for the pettiness of these people. The only mistake you ever made was being too nice. This issue is between me and them. I think this might be one of those attempts to start drama by picking at old wounds, but I won’t give them the satisfaction. Especially since they’re helping out Joey; something I can’t argue with. Please, don’t feel responsible.” I take a big bite of the toast, toss it back onto the plate and stand up from my chair.