B, My Name Is Bunny

by Norma Fox Mazer

  “For me. Well, maybe I’ll see you when you’re a little older. Bye-bye, little girl.”

  Little girl. My face got as hot as when he kissed me. “I don’t appreciate that,” I said. “I don’t think that’s a very nice thing to say.”

  “No, I didn’t mean—Well … sorry about that. But, you know, it’s the truth.”

  “I’m not—” I had to pause and take in a big breath of air. I didn’t like that! I didn’t like being called a little girl. Why did he have to say it? Just because he was older than me? “That’s kind of shallow thinking, isn’t it? I mean, just because of someone’s age, suddenly not liking them?”

  “You’ve got it wrong. I do like you. I just meant—you know, you’re too young for me.”

  “I’m not a little girl,” I said. “And you didn’t think that until you knew my age. That’s what I mean about shallow.” I didn’t know I was going to say all that. If you’d asked me before James called, I would have said if I had another chance to talk to him, I’d be as sweet and nice and charming and lovable as I knew how to be.

  “Emily?” he said. “Let’s say good-bye as friends. Are you willing?”

  I nodded, as if he could see me. “Okay.”

  “’Bye, Emily,” he said. His voice was so sweet! “It was fun knowing you.”

  “’Bye, James,” I said. I hung up and then I just sat on the bed for a while. I was almost crying.

  I heard Dad come up the steps. “Off the phone, Bunny?” He came into the room.

  “Yes.”

  “Who was that?”

  “A boy.”

  “Uh huh. Somebody from school?”

  “No.”

  “Where do you know him from?”

  “What?” I was still sort of dazed.

  “Where do you know him from?” he said again.

  “Where do I know James from?”

  “Is that his name? James?”

  I nodded.

  “So?” Dad said. He sounded very patient.

  “What?”

  “Where do you know him from, honey?”

  “Oh. The concert. The Lulu Belle concert.”

  “Didn’t he ask for Emily?”

  “I guess so.”

  “He did. He asked for Emily. Why is that, Bunny?”

  “Dad, it’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  Mom came in from the bathroom in her red robe. Her hair was wound up in a towel. “What’s going on?”

  “Dad is worried that I’m doing something dumb. Or growing up too fast. Or something.”

  “Dad is not worried,” Dad said. “Dad is just waiting to hear about this somewhat unusual situation. Some young man just called her,” he said to Mom, “and asked for Emily.”

  “Emily?” Mom said. “Is he a friend of Emily’s, Bunny?”

  I got up and then I sat down again. Mom sat down next to me on the bed and started toweling her hair. Dad leaned against the bureau, smoking.

  “Remember when I went to the concert?” They both nodded. “Well … I met this guy there. He was sitting next to me and we started talking. He was going to write an article about the concert, and he interviewed me.”

  “Okay,” Dad said. “And—?”

  “And—so that was fun. I liked being interviewed.”

  Mom came out from under her towel to say, “Yeah, I liked it, too, when the newspaper did that piece on Officer Friendly last year. Remember?”

  “But he just called you now,” Dad said. “The concert was quite a while ago.”

  “Well, he called me before this, too. And I met him a couple of times.” I shrugged.

  “Met him where?” Mom said.

  “Gelato place in the mall.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s a good place to meet. Good and public.”

  “Wait, I have a feeling there’s something more,” Dad said.

  “More, like what?” I was thinking of the kiss. I didn’t want to talk about that. No, I wouldn’t.

  “Well, for one thing, what’s this about Emily? How does she figure in it?”

  My face heated up. I have to admit I felt a little ashamed to tell them. I mean, it’s one thing to complain about my name to Mom, which I do all the time, and another thing to come right out and admit that I think it’s such a crummy name I don’t even want to tell it to a guy I like.

  “Why did he ask for Emily?” Dad said. “Is he a friend of hers?”

  I shook my head.

  “She didn’t even go to the concert with you, did she?”

  “No,” Mom said. “She did not. Bunny?”

  The way she said it, I knew I had to tell her. Mom goes along and goes along and then she hits a point where you don’t fool around with her.

  I sighed. “He told me his name. And then he asked me my name, and I don’t know why, I mean I didn’t plan it, but I said my name was Emily.”

  “You what?”

  I had to repeat it. “I said my name was Emily.”

  They both looked at me like I was certifiable. “You used Emily’s name? Why? What was the point?”

  “I guess I didn’t want to use my name.”

  “So you got yourself into a little bit of a bind?” Mom said.

  “Yeah.”

  She put her arm around me. “Come on, that doesn’t seem so terrible. It’s not what I would recommend for the beginning of a friendship, but it’s not world-class crime, either.”

  I sighed again. “Well, he thinks my name is Emily. And once I said it, it was like, How do I undo this? I couldn’t! It just got to the point where I began to think of myself as being named Emily every time I talked to him.”

  “I can imagine.” Mom was really nice about it. But Dad was still giving me his look—not a mean look, just that sort of soft, thoughtful look that means he’s got something on his mind and any minute now, you’re going to find out what it is.

  “How old did you say this boy is?” Dad said.

  “I didn’t.” How did he know to go to that? That’s what I mean about thoughtful looks.

  “How old is he?” Dad said.

  “A little bit older than I am.”

  “How old is that?” Mom said.

  “Um. A few years. Actually, he’s eighteen.”

  “Eighteen!” Mom said. She and Dad looked at each other.

  “Mom, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “We’re not even going to see each other again.”

  “Again?” she said. “You have seen each other?”

  “Yeah, I told you. Two times, in the gelato place.”

  “Two times?”

  She sounded like Emily, repeating everything I said.

  “Right.”

  “Well, what did you do there?”

  “Mom, what do you think? We ate gelato. Well, the second time, I had gelato and he had tortelloni.”

  Mom started laughing. “Oh, Bunny!”

  “Come on, Lorraine,” Dad said. “That’s no help.”

  “Sorry,” Mom said. She hid her face in her hands for a moment. “Okay, okay, this is serious. Sweetie—” She looked at me. “I mean this. I’m not fooling around. This boy is too old for you. I don’t want you—Dad and I do not approve of your seeing an eighteen-year-old boy.”

  “I know.”

  “He could be the nicest boy in the world, but he’s definitely too old for you. Eighteen and thirteen just don’t mix. Or if they do, they shouldn’t.”

  “I know,” I said again. “I told you, we’re not going to see each other anymore.” Every time I said it, I felt bad. No, I didn’t. I felt terrible.

  Chapter 15

  A few days later, at supper, Mom mentioned that her boss wanted her to go to Toronto over the weekend. There was going to be a convention of people who worked in police public relations departments. “People will be coming from all over the United States and Canada. It’s a great opportunity for me. I’ll drive up late Friday afternoon and—”

  “You can’t go,” Dad interrupted. “I’m going to San Die
go Friday morning. Don’t you remember? I won’t be back until Tuesday night.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were going to San Diego,” Shad said. He fed Benjie, who was in his pocket, a piece of bread. “Nobody tells me anything.”

  “Well, I have to go to Toronto,” Mom said. “This is important. My boss thinks—”

  “If it’s so important, why did they just tell you about it now?” Dad said. “What kind of planning is that? What if you had other plans already made?”

  “I don’t. I kept this weekend open. I more or less knew about it a couple of months ago, but my boss wasn’t sure if he could get an okay for funding. You know how the budget is. They’re paying my transportation and food. As it is, I told them I’d stay at Mother’s.”

  “Excellent, but who’s going to stay here, with the kids?”

  “Well, I thought you were going to be here.”

  “I told you weeks ago about this convention,” Dad said.

  Mom looked upset. “I know, I remember now. I’m sorry, I just didn’t keep it straight.”

  “You should have put it on your calendar.”

  “I know, you’re right, but I never do those good, organized things. You know how I am.”

  “Nobody has to stay with me,” I said. “I can take care of myself just fine.”

  “No, sweetie, you’re not staying in the house alone,” Mom said.

  And Dad added, “Absolutely not. That’s not even up for discussion.”

  What did they think I was going to do? Invite James and all his friends over for an orgy? “This family is so unfair,” I said.

  Mom looked at me. “Really?”

  I hated the way she said that one little word. Like she didn’t believe me at all.

  “Yes, really.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Forget it, Mom!”

  “I don’t want to forget it, Bunny. What is this stuff about unfairness? Don’t you think you ought to tell Dad or me if you have a complaint?”

  Mom gets this extremely reasonable tone of voice that is so irritating. It sounds as if she’s always right, and I’m always wrong. “Well, I just said that nobody had to look after me. I could stay home this weekend. I’m not exactly a child, but neither you or Dad even considers it. I’m not even given a choice about things. It’s just orders from on high. Orders from headquarters. Bunny, you are going to do this and this, and this and that, and that’s that!”

  “Well.” My mother pushed her glasses up on her head. “Such vehemence. Did you and Emily have a fight?”

  “Everybody always says that! As if that’s the only thing in my world.” It was so irritating. “Why don’t you just admit you won’t let me stay alone, because you don’t trust me?”

  “We do trust you,” Mom said. “That’s not true.”

  “Wait,” Dad said. “Hold it. We can’t go into this now. We still have to make a decision about the weekend.”

  “I know how we can do it,” Mom said. “Bunny can come with me to Toronto. And Shad can go with you.”

  “Bunny just went to Toronto,” Shad said. “That’s not fair.”

  “Shad can’t come with me,” Dad said to Mom. “I’m sorry, honey, but there’ll be nothing for him to do for three days. Besides, I doubt I could get him a ticket this late in the game.”

  Well, the end of all that was that Dad flew to San Diego alone Friday morning, and Mom, Shad, and I drove up to Toronto together Friday afternoon.

  It was past midnight by the time we got to Grandma’s. She was still up, waiting for us. She hugged Shad, then me.

  “Sure, your own daughter last,” Mom said. “How are you, Mommy?”

  They walked into the living room with their arms around each other. “Oh, you know me,” Grandma said. “I have my little complaints, I had a pretty bad headache today, but I keep going.”

  Mom and Grandma slept in the twin beds. Shad had a sleeping bag on the floor, and I slept on the couch. The next morning, Mom had to go out early for her conference. She bent over me and whispered, “Sleep okay?”

  I nodded and sat up.

  Mom put her finger to her lips and looked over to where Shad was all rolled up in his sleeping bag. “Shad is still sawing wood. Why don’t you try to get some more sleep, honey?”

  “Okay. You look nice.” She was wearing a plum-colored suit and a pale pink blouse.

  “Thanks.” She kissed me. She smelled of toothpaste. “I’ll see you later.”

  I slept some more. Then I got up and Shad did, too. We went in the kitchen and got out the breakfast cereal. “I’m going to explore the city,” Shad said.

  “I’ll give you my map. Do you want some cocoa?”

  We were just sitting down when Grandma came in. She was wearing jeans and a blue T-shirt that said YES, I CAN.

  “Grandma! I never saw you in a T-shirt.”

  “Oh, yes, I wear them sometimes. It was so quiet here, I thought you two were still sleeping.”

  “We’ve been up for ages,” I said.

  “Grandma,” Shad said, “I’m going to explore Toronto. I’ll take Bunny’s map.”

  Grandma sat down with her coffee. “Now, Shad, I’m all for independence, but this makes me a little nervous. I think I’d like you to confine yourself to the neighborhood.”

  “Grandma, I’m very capable.”

  “I know you are, darling, but if your mother takes off my head, it’s my head, not yours.” She lit a cigarette and blew smoke over her shoulder. “Shhh, both of you. Don’t say anything about my cigarettes. I know all about it.”

  Shad put his dishes in the sink. “I’m going out, now.”

  “Not until you promise me you won’t go too far,” Grandma said. “Toronto is a good city, but it’s not paradise.”

  “Grandma,” I said, “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

  Shad got his jacket. “I’ll just go a few blocks.” He looked at his wristwatch. “And I’ll come back in an hour.”

  “Fair enough,” Grandma said. He went out and Grandma and I sat at the table, talking.

  She put her hand over mine. “This is wonderful. I thought I wouldn’t see you for another year.”

  “Oh, no, I would have come back sooner. Grandma, I have a problem with Mom.”

  “What’s that, darling?”

  I started to tell her about Mom not trusting me. “What I think doesn’t count for anything. Supposing I didn’t want to come up here and see you—I mean, just supposing—”

  Grandma was leaning toward me, nodding as if she understood.

  “I did, of course, but I could have stayed home. I’m going to be fourteen in three months. Don’t you think that’s old enough to stay home alone sometimes?”

  Grandma lit another cigarette. She blew out the match and, as she did, she got this strange expression on her face. It was almost like a smile, but not quite. Her lips curled up, as if she’d just heard a joke, but a joke she didn’t like at all.

  Then her cigarette fell out of her hand and she slumped over. Her head hit the table, she said something, and fell off the chair.

  Chapter 16

  Grandma was lying on the floor, her arms crumpled under her and one of her legs caught in the rung of the chair. Her eyes stared up at me. “Grandma,” I whispered. And then I shouted. “Grandma!” I bent over her. “Grandma, come on, get up.” I put my hand under her shoulder. I couldn’t move her. There was spit at the corner of her mouth.

  Her eyes were staring at me, so I knew she wasn’t dead. She lay on the floor. Nothing moved. I tried to straighten out her arms. Her eyes stared and stared. It looked like they were talking to me, trying to tell me something. I ran to the phone in her bedroom, then I ran back and bent over her. “Grandma, darling, don’t worry, I’m calling Mom.”

  I stroked her hand. I stroked her hair. I didn’t want to leave her. I went into the bedroom again. I couldn’t think of the name of the hotel where Mom’s convention was being held. I sat on the bed, breathing hard. I put
my hands around my face and squeezed my head. Think, Bunny. Think.

  “Okay,” I said out loud. I talked to myself. “You can call Mom after. Call the ambulance first. No, call the operator, she’ll help you.” I dialed the operator. The phone rang and rang. “Oh, hurry, please.”

  “Operator.”

  “I need an ambulance. My grandmother—I don’t know what it is. I don’t think it’s a heart attack. She’s on the floor, she—”

  “I’ll connect you with the emergency room of St. Michael’s.”

  “Thank you.” I heard myself being polite. I wanted to laugh. I thought, No, you can’t do that. I noticed I wasn’t crying. I noticed how calm my voice was. All sorts of things were going through my mind. It was as if there was another person inside me commenting on everything I was doing.

  Good, Bunny, you called the operator, that was the right thing to do. Now the phone is ringing. Okay, now somebody’s answering. It’s the emergency room. Tell them what you told the operator. Right, now they want the address. Say it clearly, Bunny. That’s good. You’re doing fine.

  I hung up. Mom. Where was she? I started looking in the phone directory under hotels. I went through them all. I was sure I would recognize the name of the hotel. Nothing looked familiar. The convention was at a hotel, wasn’t it? Or was that Dad’s convention? I couldn’t remember.

  I went back to Grandma. I got her leg untangled from the chair. Why hadn’t I done that before? I wet a dish towel and wiped her face and sat down on the floor near her and put her head in my lap.

  “Grandma.” I talked to her. I told her I’d called the hospital and that the ambulance was coming. I wanted to say, Grandma, I’m scared. I kept stroking her hair. I didn’t know what else to do.

  The doorbell rang. “Maybe that’s them right now.” I put her head down on the floor again. That seemed horrible and I folded the dish towel under her head.

  The doorbell rang and rang. Then someone knocked. I ran into the hall and opened the door. It was Shad. “It took you long enough,” he said. “Can I go out again?”

  “Shad.” I pulled him into the foyer. “Shhh.”

  “Who’s sleeping? Where’s Grandma?”

  “She’s in the kitchen. Shad—”

  “I’ve got to pee, then I want to go out again. Look.” He pulled a Canadian dollar out of his pocket. “I got it in a store.”