Opening the back door of the house, she tried to make as much noise as she could, banging her feet against the stairs. There were no other sounds but hers.
She sat just inside the door to get warm for a bit, then went outside again. With all the new snow, it’d be a good day to convert the backyard into a castle, with throne rooms and dungeons. She and Patsy loved to pretend they were powerful Gypsy queens, wild and free, who lived in snow castles. It would be a lot of work clearing the space, making barricades for the castle front, and gathering mounds of snow for the thrones. But it would keep her warm, and, being near the house, she’d know when her dad got back.
When night came, she looked up at the stars and all around at the white night of snow. It looked like a painting.
A painting that’s getting colder and colder to be inside. Have to go in.
It had felt like a never-ending day. But there was school tomorrow. It would take her mind off things.
I’ll eat and watch TV. Make my fort and send my mind somewhere else. What more can I do?
CHAPTER
8
Once inside the back door, Jules pulled off her outdoor clothes, threw them on the stairs, and stomped over them on her way up to the kitchen.
She wasn’t really hungry, but she heated up a can of soup, made another bologna sandwich, and carried the food to the living room.
She ate slowly as she watched TV. After a while, the soup got cold.
“No, no, no …” Jules pushed her food away and began moaning.
He’s not coming home tonight, either, and it’s Sunday already.
She looked out the living room window and down the street, allowing herself to cry. The sounds she made got mixed in with the happy sounds of the Walt Disney program.
Nothing can touch me.
When she was all cried out, she went to the kitchen, washed the dishes, and cleaned up.
Make it clean, make it good, make him happy.
She headed upstairs and put on her pajamas.
I could stay up all night or run around outside if I wanted to – and he wouldn’t know anything about it. Look at me. I can take care of myself.
She had trouble making the fort in her room because she didn’t have any patience. It kept falling down.
Can nothing go right? These stupid blankets won’t stay up!
Finally the fort held and she crawled in. For the longest time, all she could do was stare angrily at the pattern on the old blanket stretched out above her. The real world was awful, messy, hurting. When she got older, she’d find out about other worlds – or at least other ways to live. It couldn’t be true that this was how life was supposed to be.
She’d try to imagine being Superman tonight. He was stronger than anybody, could do amazing feats, and travel anywhere he wanted in the blink of an eye. He was a man, but Jules didn’t even think of that when she imagined herself as a superhero. It wasn’t important. Girls imagined themselves as heroes – the male or female ones they read about or saw on TV or in the movies. Girls were courageous and strong in their minds despite how they were supposed to be.
She could fly and fly and fly – all over the planet –or go to other planets, undiscovered, unexplored. Nothing was impossible. Demolishing buildings, moving mountains, throwing bombs into outer space, catching bullets.
Superman had weaknesses for sure, like Kryptonite, but usually he could get out of dangerous predicaments with the help of other superheroes or friends. She wasn’t going to be a superhero who always had problems.
What’s the point of being a superhero if you’ve got as many problems as a human? Or your superpowers are limited, and you have to fight villains with only ice or fire? Pathetic. As for Batman, he just uses fancy gadgets. And some of them are pretty dumb. When you get right down to it, there isn’t anything superhero about him. He’s boring. The person on top of the superhero totem pole is Superman.
That’s the best thing about using your imagination. You can be exactly what you want.
Dammit. What’s the point? Getting carried away by fantasies. Even believing in them. Like the one about Santa Claus. Everyone acts like he’s real. Why do they do that when he isn’t?
The idea that a magical figure like Santa exists makes people feel good inside. Makes them think that magical people and worlds are possible, that there could still be something good and beautiful and different under the ordinary surface of everything.
To be loved, to be happy, to be cared for, nourished body and soul. These things were never granted to shadows. And that’s what she was – a shadow being.
There were others like her. But they couldn’t help each other, couldn’t be together. No one else could see her. Maybe that would be true for all time.
Shadows could look into the houses they passed. Could look into the lives of the people in them. Sometimes the families inside were happy, sometimes not.
When she saw children who were being slapped around, ignored, not cared for, hurt in different ways, she wanted to make things better.
But she couldn’t. Shadows couldn’t.
It was hard to see children being treated badly, but it was harder to watch children who were happy, playing with their brothers and sisters and friends, their parents near. That made her angry, filled her with despair.
There was nothing more terrible than being outside of everything, without enough of what you needed to live. That’s how it was for Jules.
Why?
Maybe if she went deep enough into her pain, she’d find an answer. Children weren’t meant to suffer in the way she suffered. She felt that much, knew that much.
Shadows can’t exist without light. They are supposed to be together. She had to figure out why she was in this terrible world, what had made her a shadow.
She had to go back and back and back.
Jules opened her eyes. Total darkness. Something was covering her face, but she couldn’t move. Her whole body was frozen, and she screamed in terror.
With sheer force of will, she sat up, pushing the heavy cloth away. She managed to stand, desperate to free herself from the blackness.
Am I in a nightmare, thinking I’m awake when I’m not? But if I’m awake, where am I?
Her heart pounded in her chest as the seconds passed.
Help me! Help me!
She held out her arms to see if anything was there. Empty space.
She stepped forward and knocked something over. The sound terrified her until she realized what it was.
A lamp. A bedroom lamp.
She was in her own room. As her eyes finally adjusted, she could make out the door and walls, the window.
She could have cried out with relief, but the agony of the dream wouldn’t leave her.
She went over to the window and knelt by it. The night was so dark. Her heart raced. She got the covers from the bed and wrapped them around her body. She could never go back to sleep.
CHAPTER
9
December 16. Morning. Another sunny day.
How can it be?
Jules lay on her bed, exhausted. It took a long time to find the energy to wash and change. She didn’t feel like herself.
When she got down to the kitchen, she could see that nothing was different from the day before. The clock on the wall said eight o’clock.
I’m going to be late for school!
Jules quickly made two bologna sandwiches. No time for breakfast.
Better not eat too much. The food’ll run out.
She ran-walked along the slippery, snow-packed sidewalks.
No long cuts today.
Jules got to school just as the bell rang. Her mind wasn’t on schoolwork, and she didn’t answer when Mrs. Fournier asked her a question during math class.
“Stop daydreaming, Jules Doherty. I know there are only a few more days of school before Christmas, but you need to pay attention.” Mrs. Fournier sounded fed up. “You’re all driving me crazy!”
Mrs. Fournier wasn’t mean
, but she was pretty strict. Maybe she had to be. A bunch of kids had come into her Grade 7 class after skipping Grade 6. They bugged her all the time with questions.
At lunch, Patsy acted extra-goofy because she could tell Jules wasn’t herself. Patsy was no fool.
The afternoon went by in a blur. Jules had already decided to go to the plaza after school, but she walked Patsy home first.
“See ya tomorrow,” Patsy said. “I’ll ask Mom if you can come over. Rosey won’t be around to stick her nose up at whatever we do.”
“Sure,” Jules said absentmindedly.
When she got to the plaza, it was hard to look at the Christmas trees, the decorations, the people in the stores. Jules headed straight for Zellers and the toy department.
My doll.
She greeted it like a friend. It had a warm bright smile and a friendly look on its face. She glanced at other toys and dolls as well, but mostly she stayed with her doll.
Jules didn’t want to go home, but eventually six o’clock came. Mrs. Adamson said good-bye, and Jules could feel her eyes on her back as she left the store.
“Yup, there goes Jules the weirdo,” she’s thinking. “Always here. Always by herself.”
Outside, the temperature was falling. A harsh wind cut right through her. When she got to her street, she couldn’t bring herself to look up at their house.
She tried to think what her father meant by staying away. He must have been so angry with her that he didn’t want to see her. Ever. She knew she wasn’t a good kid, but her father was happy to be with her some of the time.
Maybe he’s hurt himself or been in an accident.
But someone would come tell me. The police or somebody from the hospital.
But if he’s alone and unconscious, no one would know.
Jules went over and over the possibilities in her head. She always ended up back at zero, alone in that house and the whole world not seeing, not knowing.
Argh. My thoughts are driving me crazy. Have to push them away. Have to get inside the stupid house. Act normal. Eat dinner. Forget.
One of her dad’s favorite meals was pork and beans on toast. So that’s what she ate for dinner as she watched TV.
It was hard to pay attention, but Christmas was getting closer, so there were more and more TV programs, commercials, and movies about the holidays. She started to watch a movie about a family with a beautiful mother and father and a beautiful house surrounded by beautiful everything.
Is that how most people live?
No.
Patsy’s family wasn’t like that. Her mom and dad were poor and worked all the time, which is why Patsy and her sister had to babysit after school, on holidays, and almost every day in the summer. Lots of parents had to be away from home and had money problems, just like her dad.
She turned off the TV.
I’m not going to wash the stupid dishes, clean the house, or do anything. He can just come home and see a big mess for all I care!
Jules stomped up the stairs. She glanced into her dad’s room before going into her own.
She made her blanket fort, but she felt suffocated inside it. Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine anything. She took it down, got under the covers, and stared angrily at the ceiling.
Sleep wouldn’t come.
She sat up, wrapped a blanket around herself, and went to the window to look out. As she knelt in front of the icy window, she could see her breath as she exhaled.
There were stars in the night sky, and the snowy world was a radiant white in the darkness. It didn’t look real.
I don’t feel like I’m in it, maybe that’s why. I don’t even feel like I’m here.
Jules woke up hopeful. She tiptoed into the hallway to look into her dad’s room.
Empty. He’s left me now. Until forever.
She stomped her feelings down. It was a school day, and she had to be there. School was part of the normal world, and she needed something normal to keep her from feeling like she didn’t exist.
Jules wandered around the house and somehow managed to get dressed and out the door. She went up Martin Grove, hoping that Patsy hadn’t left for school yet. She needed to talk to another human being. Luckily, Patsy was home.
“You’re early, Jules,” Mrs. O’Connor said, looking at the clock.
“Uh, yeah. I got ready really fast today.”
“C’mon in. Patsy’s still eating.”
Patsy’s house was full of noise. Everybody seemed to be talking and yelling at the same time from every room. Patsy was alone in the kitchen, stuffing cereal into her mouth, spilling drops of milk all over herself.
“Hey, Jules,” she said, her cheeks bulging. “Glad you came over. Do you wanna go by Wedgewood School and shoot snowballs at the Protestant kids?”
“Sure.”
Anything for a distraction.
“What’s that you’re going to do?” Mr. O’Connor asked as he walked into the kitchen.
“Oh, nothing, Dad.”
“I don’t want you coming home with another black eye.”
Patsy beamed. She’d given as good as she got that day.
Jumping up from her place at the table, she said, “Let’s get out of here, Jules. Or we’ll have to go to school with my brother and sister.” Patsy grabbed her coat and had it half on by the time she opened the back door. “Isn’t this the ugliest coat you’ve ever seen on the face of the earth?”
“Gee, I don’t know, Patsy. It’s not that bad.”
“I can hardly wait to grow out of it.”
“But then you’ll just get another of your sister’s old jackets.”
“She’s not growing as fast as I am, Mom said. Maybe I’ll get a new one next time. Yowee, it sure is freezing today!”
They had a wild snowball fight when they reached Wedgewood. Jules got hit in the face again. Same spot. Her cheek stung something awful.
Penance for a lie.
When they got to Mattice Avenue, the road the school was on, they ran. The bell would ring any minute.
Jules was glad she’d gone to school with Patsy. She felt almost normal.
There’s no way I’m gonna go home after school, Jules told herself. She walked up to Bloor and over to the plaza instead.
Shoppers, lights, decorations – just the same old lousy Christmas stuff.
She went into Zellers, feeling embarrassed. Mrs. Adamson kept looking over at her. She tried playing with the toys and games in spots where Mrs. Adamson couldn’t see her. But it was hard to do anything at all. Her heart wasn’t into being there.
She headed over to her doll. Seeing it felt good for a few moments. She stood there staring at it, and she felt her mind slowly leave her body. Not in the good way it usually did when she was imagining things, but in the vanishing way she’d felt last night.
“That would be a wonderful Christmas present, wouldn’t it?”
Jules almost jumped out of her skin. Mrs. Adamson was standing right beside her. Jules didn’t want to give a friendly answer back.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. Jules quickly turned away, but she knew Mrs. Adamson was still watching her. She stomped over to the empty spot at the book display and crashed down onto it.
I could break this whole stupid thing with a few kicks. Smash it all to pieces!
She was angry, so angry.
If I looked in a mirror right this second, I’d have the same kind of expression on my face as Dad’s stupid friend Hank. He always looks angry and miserable.
Argh! Can’t scream or they’ll think I’m crazy.
Jules grabbed the first book beside her. Hans Christian Andersen.
No, thank you!
She turned to the other side of the display and reached over for a “real” book, a thick one.
I’ll show her. I’ll sit here and read as long as I want.
But … Mrs. Adamson won’t mind. She never does.
Jules buried herself in the book. Two hours later, she heard the announcement telling sh
oppers that the store was closing.
Shoot! Gotta go to my stinking home.
Jules left the store before Mrs. Adamson could say one more kind thing to her.
When she got home, the house was dark.
CHAPTER
10
December 18. Wednesday.
Jules usually crossed off each day on the kitchen calendar, but she’d stopped doing it since Friday.
Doesn’t matter anymore, does it?
The eighteenth meant something, though. She tried to think what.
Oh, yeah. The Christmas concert. The stupid Christmas concert. How am I going to go? I can’t go alone – it finishes too late.
Last year, she and her dad had walked together to school, and it’d been fun.
Who wants to see me in the stupid concert anyway? I’ll just pretend I’m going, pretend my dad’s coming.
She stomped around the house.
I hate you, house, as much as you hate me! Stupid walls. Stupid brown carpet. Smelly, old kitchen. I hate you!
Jules started to cry.
She pushed herself outside, avoided Patsy’s place, and kept her head down as she kicked through the snow. Eventually, she got to the outer limit of the school property.
I’m breaking apart.
Jules wondered if she could even get herself into the schoolyard. She tried to make her face look normal and joined some other kids who were having a snowball fight.
None of the kids in her class looked at her as if anything was wrong.
“Make sure you get here by six-thirty tonight,” Mrs. Fournier said before dismissing the class. “And remember: clean uniforms. With cleaned and pressed shirt or blouse.”
Jules felt a moment of panic. She had only one blouse, and it had stopped being clean or white a long time ago. Then she remembered she wasn’t even going to the concert – and relief turned to sadness.
She left school without speaking to anyone and trudged through the snow in the direction of the plaza. It was getting harder to be there – to be anywhere without feeling like a lonely nothing, but she couldn’t go home.
Oh, Dad. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I won’t ask for anything. I’ll leave you alone. Just come back. Please!
Shadow Girl Page 4