by Lewin, Renee
“Thank you for saying that. I need you to promise me you won’t try to hurt them back. It’s not worth it.” Uncle Frank looks up at me expectantly.
“I don’t plan on it, but I can’t promise I won’t give them a completely clear response to any more of their ploys.”
He frowns and takes the unbitten slice of my toast from my plate for himself. I leave him in the dining room and go into the bathroom.
The reflection in the mirror is of a girl older than my twenty years of age. Recent shadows underneath my eyes needed more than last night’s rest to be erased. The rest of my features are still soft, brown and girlish. But my eyes, the telescopes to my weary mind, look tired. They’ve seen too much. The cut on my bottom lip looks mostly healed. As I study my reflection I think of how I seriously don’t need Denise’s games right now. I’m an inch away from the edge. If I slip I’m dragging her and her conniving friends down with me.
My brother was always deeply concerned about my bitterness. He worried that I was keeping things bottled up and holding grudges for too long. The pity in Manny’s eyes only made me angrier. Anger doesn’t direct me to rash decisions or violence like it does for Joey. I’ve kept my anger inside and thus kept my dignity.
This situation with the fundraiser flyers on my door, however, is different. If they bother me again I won’t hesitate to act. In high school they saw me as a threat, as someone that needed to be broken down to size. Now they know I am weak and it tickles them to dig their claws into me while I’m down.
After pulling my hair loose of its bun, I comb it through with my fingers until it hangs down, its ends brushing against my neck. Instantly I am reminded of my mother. She always wore her hair down. My hair is not as thick and lovely as hers, though it parts best on the right as hers did. I find a comb in a drawer and run it through my hair. The feel of the comb’s teeth along my scalp is soothing. Déjà vu blankets me and I hear my mother’s consoling voice. “An eye for an eye leaves everybody blind, Sweetie.” I was sitting on a stool in front of this very mirror with tears streaming down my face as she did my hair. I had confided in her about the way my friends had turned on me. Mom was right. She’s still right. An eye for an eye is not the solution. She raised me to be a better person. Intensely, I wish she was still here.
I tie my hair up to take a shower. Afterwards, I get dressed and let my hair down once again, this time adding a side swept bang. Without the glasses and without my hair up I feel vulnerable. Glancing at the mirror I notice that the shadows beneath my eyes are gone. Perhaps they seemed so dark because I had been in a dark mood earlier. I walk towards my bedroom door anticipating some leisurely time spent with Uncle Frank watching movies or just talking and joking. There is a knock before I touch the doorknob. I pull the door open. “Yes?”
“Everything okay?” Uncle Frank asks.
I nod. “I feel much better. Notice anything different?”
“Yeah…,” Uncle Frank squints, “That nasty zit on your chin.”
I automatically feel at my chin, realize there is nothing there and then roll my eyes. “Uncle Frank!” I smile.
“Niece Elaine!” he mocks playfully. “You sure you’re alright?”
“Yes.”
“Cool. Then you don’t mind if I go visit some old friends.”
He must not have seen the deep disappointment on my face because he continued talking.
“I haven’t talked to a lot of people since I was here for the funeral. Plus, I’m curious to see how that new guy what’s-his-name is doing as park manager, that Mr. Jimenez. I’ll ask some of the old residents and newer residents what’s up. I’ll probably do some grocery shopping too. We need some red meat in here.”
“Do you need the truck?”
“Nope. Everything is in walking distance.”
“Okay. Have fun.”
“See you later.” He pats me on the head and I watch him leave through the front door. I see that while I was in the bathroom he brought his luggage from the truck and set it by the sofa. The suitcases need to go in Dad’s room where I decided Uncle Frank should sleep. One at a time, I pull them into his room and stand them up at the foot of the bed. I walk into the dining area. The table needs to be cleared so I pick up the glass and plate and place them into the sink with the rest. The dishes need to be done. I wash the two plates, a glass, and a knife, dry them, and tuck them away in their assigned drawers and cupboards. I glance around for anything out of place. Nothing is. I stare down at the clean kitchen floor and out of habit move my hand up to my face to adjust my glasses that would usually slip down my nose. They aren’t there. I wonder when I’ll get used to not wearing them.
The last time I was without my glasses was five years ago. After only a few weeks of wearing them regularly, they were broken because of Denise’s clumsiness and had to be replaced. Technically, Joey is the one that broke my glasses. I’d almost forgotten Joey’s involvement. Maybe because, unlike Denise, he had apologized.
******
It was day four of my freshman year of high school. My arm fell away from placing a textbook into my locker. My locker had only a few profanities written on it that day. “You’re really going to side with them?”
She eyed the students walking the crowded hall and pulled down on her tight red miniskirt before answering me. “You haven’t sided with us, Elaine. Ever since we started high school, me, Ariella, and even Marisol notice that you barely come around. You don’t eat lunch with us! We don’t hang out! What am I supposed to think?” She pushed out her pink painted lips and widened her kohl lined eyes at me.
“Think for yourself, maybe? Come to your own conclusions?” I shoved another book in my locker and take out a folder. “Do you think I’m happy about losing the bond I’ve had with you and Ariella since we were ten years old?”
“See, that’s what I don’t get with you. The bond isn’t broken. You left.”
“I just can’t do what…you guys do. I don’t want what you want. We don’t see things the same way and I’m not going to pretend I do.”
She crossed her arms and stomped her high-heeled foot. “You’re just too high on your horse and too prude to accept how things are. This is how the world works, hermana. People grow up and want grown up things. I want the finer things in life and you don’t get that by having no confidence and acting all delicate. If you’d wear a skirt and show some cleavage once in a while you’d be happy too.” She smiled.
“What does smoking weed or blacking out drunk at a party or sleeping around have to do with getting ‘the finer things in life’, huh? What does that have to do with confidence? It’s a big lie, Denise! You are being no different from the plastic Village Kids who walk around here with their noses up in the air!”
She fingered her long brown hair with honey highlights and laughed. “I’m not fake, mami. I’m real. I’m in reality and you are in Fairyland. Fake is the stupid nerdy glasses you’ve started wearing even though you can see,” she snatched the glasses from my face, “just fine.” She smiled playfully.
At that moment I thought of all of us in the early days. Ariella, Denise, Denise’s cousin Marisol, and I were all friends. Marisol and I would bump heads sometimes but I was cool with Denise and close to Ariella. Ariella was my best buddy, next to Manny of course. Denise was silly and high-spirited. She was a very persuasive person who could charm the shirt off your back and the last five dollars out of your wallet and Manny was just one of the guys under her spell. It used to be genuine, her personality. It was now a tool to get what she wanted.
She moved her hand away as I tried to grab my glasses back. The bell rang signaling that the next class would start in two minutes.
“Come on, Denise. I’m going to be late for class.”
“No. You need to talk to us again.”
“Hand me my glasses,” I grew serious. “What’s there to talk about? Where your next piercing will be?”
“Ariella is pregnant.”
I chuckled. “Oh please.
If she was, I would be the first one to know.”
“Really? How could she tell you when you weren’t there to listen to her? ‘Cause you were busy trotting along on your high horse.”
“If she’s really pregnant, which she isn’t, I wouldn’t blame anyone but you.” I glared at her.
“Me!”
“You flaunt yourself as the ringleader so take the responsibility for your poor leadership!”
“You don’t have a heart!” Denise cried.
I was taken aback by the tremble in her voice.
“All you care about is you!” she said.
“That is so untrue. Give me my glasses back!” In my attempt to retrieve my two-toned black and purple glasses they fell out of Denise’s outstretched hand and slid across the floor to the middle of the hall, right when Joey and his pack were making their way down that hall to class. Boisterous and immature, they snorted and shoved their way down the hall towards my fallen spectacles. The sound of the late bell collided with the mentally magnified sound of my glasses being crushed under Joey’s sneaker. His buddies rushed past him to get to their classes while he stood and lifted his shoe to identify the wreckage. My glasses were bent severely at the bridge and one of the lenses had shattered completely.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Standing beside me, Denise shrugged her tan shoulders. “Don’t worry, Elaine,” she announced, “I’m sure you can afford to buy another pair.” She laughed, gave Joey a flirtatious smile, and swished away to her class. All I could think about was Ariella. Was she really pregnant? I couldn’t wrap my mind around Ariella making such a mistake and not confiding in me, her best friend. Denise had to be lying. Joey’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He was standing in front of me with the pieces of my glasses in his cupped hands.
“I’m really sorry,” he apologized to the shards of glass. It seemed that way since he wasn’t looking me in the eye. He and I stood in the empty hall. It wasn’t his fault. Denise was the one that dropped them. In fact, she probably dropped them on purpose. The tiny hairs at the nape of my neck stood up at the thought. How could she expect me to remain friends with her, someone who out of the blue becomes a person who acts so spiteful? Denise was wrong. The bond was broken.
“You know what?”
Joey’s blue eyes met mine.
“Just throw it in the trash, Joey. It’s beyond repair.” I slammed my locker shut and jogged to my English class. Ariella suddenly moved out of town before I could talk to her. She left without saying goodbye.
******
“Hi Miss Kinsley.” I glance at Joey’s journal on the nightstand, and back at Miss Kinsley standing by Joey’s hospital bed.
“Hey sweetheart! Oh, you look lovely with your hair down.”
“Thank you. You too,” I smile.
She pats at her long red curls. “Yes, I washed it early this morning. I thought of my Joey. I loved washing his hair when he was a little boy. My hair was never as soft and my curls never as full as his.”
I watch her slender hand smooth along his head. It’s been three days since his cranial surgery and his head has gone from bare to having a soft amber new growth. Soon it would be that vibrant red again. I’m taken aback by the deep fascination I have with seeing that progression. I laugh lightly. I have to admit Joey at least has interesting hair going for him.
“I was hoping to run into you today.” She grins. “I have very positive news. Dr. Rice gave Joey some brain scans and he says that the swelling is almost completely down and he had a normal CAT scan. Dr. Rice let me know that a normal scan does not necessarily mean a lack of injury side effects, but Joey could be taken out of the coma as soon as tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” I beam. The sooner Joey becomes conscious the sooner he can give a police statement and the quicker Manny can be released from jail.
“It’s amazing. I’ve missed him so much.” She swipes the tears from her eyes with her finger. “I know you’ve missed him almost as much as I have.”
I nod.
“My Joey has so much passion about soccer and helping others and he is blessed with an energy, a fire. And he always, always is a gentleman, always trying to do the right thing. He’s got so much love to give.” Miss Kinsley tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just finished reading his journal. I thought he hadn’t written anything since high school, but he wrote one last thing the night before the accident happened. He wrote about finally having a chance with this girl he’s had a crush on since the day he started going to Lorenzo High.” She winks.
“I hardly knew him in high school,” I blab.
“You’re right. You guys have been going out for a couple months now. Then why would he write a poem about having a chance to talk to you only three days ago?” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Um…” My heart begins racing. She knows. I watch her eyes widen. I was about to utter another lie to cover myself when she says, “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that! Oh no, forget I said that. I’m sure he was talking about you, Elaine. I’m sure of it. He had to be! The way he describes you…” she smiles sweetly as she surveys my face. “It has to be you.” I nervously smile back. “Um, I gotta get home and get ready for work. Those Bartolo’s Pizza Parlor tables don’t clean themselves off. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and keep you updated on Joey.” She retrieves her purse from the floor by the chair and slips the strap onto her shoulder, looking over at her son the whole while.
“I’ll see you later, Miss Kinsley. I want to keep Joey company this evening.”
Miss Kinsley waves goodbye, heads for the door, turns one last time to look at Joey, waves to me again, and walks out of the hospital room. I plop down into the chair, resting my elbows on my thighs and cradling my face in my hands. How long can I continue pretending to be his girl and what do I say if Miss Kinsley detects my lie before then? I could break up with Joey soon after he recovers. If, God forbid, he wakes up with a brain injury then I’ll look like a superficial tramp for leaving him. I could tell her another lie, that I’m an ex-girlfriend desperate to be by his side, and be seen as a lovesick lunatic rather than a superficial tramp.
I admire the curve of Joey’s lips and wonder if he normally slept with his mouth open. “Joseph Kinsley,” I utter, “Those times I said I wished you would shut up and mind your own business, for the record, I never meant for it to happen like this.” A heavyhearted laugh floats from my mouth into the silent room.
There are a few more flower arrangements in here. I had a really good idea of who they were from. “Joey? Did you go out with Denise? With Marisol? How could you even stand them? There’s no way that as Manny’s best friend you didn’t know how he felt about Denise. Why would you see Denise, if you knew that?” I pause, realizing something. “I bet that’s why Manny punched you a few good times. God, Denise destroys everything.” I look up at the ceiling to keep the tears back. I lower my eyes and they rest, unfocused, on Joey’s arm. “You can’t answer me. Manny will tell me everything tonight.” I look at the black leather bound journal on the nightstand. “Or I could read your diary and get an answer now.”
I thought I was going to high school with the friends I’d known all my life. Turns out I’ve got to move from Drexel-Alvernon to a city called Cadence. Mom and I don’t know how it’s going to be down there. She doesn’t know whether she’ll be able to find a job and take care of me or whether Mason will find her. I’m not worried about Mason. He’ll be in prison for a while. I’m not even that sad about leaving my friends behind. My mom’s broken bones have healed, she’s divorcing Mason, and that’s all that matters.
------
We’re really struggling right now to make ends meet. We live in Cadence now in a place called Merjoy Trailer Park. You’d think, “Oh a trailer park! Well that shouldn’t be too expensive.” Think again. Anything is expensive when you’re jobless. Right now the government is helping us get by. And a nice lady named Mrs. Roberts is helping us, too. She’s the park manager’s wi
fe. Mr. Roberts is okay too, but he’s a guy so I’ll never trust him. But Mrs. Roberts lends me books to read from her personal collection. Whenever I stop by the park office where she’s the secretary there is a new book and a casserole ready for me. I never have to ask. Somehow she knows. I have yet to see her children. We’ve been here for two weeks and when I ask how her son and daughter are doing Miss Marna says they’re fine and out with friends. She says her daughter reads a lot like I do.
I can bury my nose in a book and not worry about Mom for a few minutes. And I don’t have to worry about the guys in the neighborhood I see outside my window, my future classmates. I’m not ready to have to introduce myself and explain myself and prove myself to these dudes. My friends back in Drexel already understand me. They already know me. I lied earlier. I do really miss my friends.