by Jodie Toohey
In the afternoon, Andy surprised me with a miniature jack-o- lantern-shaped bucket full of candy. He held my hand and we walked around the block.
“I wish I would’ve been able to meet Emily,” he said.
“Me, too. You would have loved each other.”
“Tell me about her.” He draped his arm over my shoulder. I turned toward him and it fell off.
“I can’t. It’s too hard,” I said.
“Why don’t you ever talk to me?”
“I talk to you,” I said.
“No, you don’t, not really. What are you thinking? What are you feeling?”
“I don’t know.” I held my breath to try to prevent myself from crying.
“I just want to talk to you about real things.”
I clenched my fists and my jaw. “Why do we have to do this today?”
“We don’t. I’m sorry.” Andy folded his arms in front of his chest and we walked the rest of the block silent. I spent the night with my lights out, a pillow over my head with just the cord of my headphones connected to my stereo. When the doorbell stopped, I pulled the earphones out and went to sleep.
The next day, I called Andy and tried to explain. I had so much seriousness in my life that when I was with him I just wanted to be light, have fun, and laugh. He said maybe it was better that way so it would be easier when he went back home. I didn’t ask him what he meant.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
November 6, 1991
Dear Nada,
I do not watch the news a lot but it does seem like they mention the bad things Serbs are doing there. Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter to me. I was baptized at a Lutheran church, but I can’t remember the last time I even went to church, though it was probably Prio’s baptism. Here, it doesn’t matter what religion you are. I learned in government class we have a “separation clause” which basically says religion and government can have nothing official to do with each other and they have to separate. So people have friends with people of all different religions – Catholic, Protestant, Baptist, Buddhist, etc. and there are several churches that have the same religion – if you go to the same church, you do things with your friends at church and if you don’t, you can visit their church or you can just get together outside of church. For people who go to church, it is mostly a few hours out of their Sunday mornings; for the rest of us, it’s just something you say about yourself when people ask, like “What do you like on your pizza?” You are not going to shun someone or hate them because they like mushrooms on their pizza and you don’t.
Things with Andy are going good. We had a little “issue” around Halloween, but that is all better now. I was having a bad day and he wanted to talk about serious things; we decided it’s better to keep things light and fun. He will be going back to California in a little less than six weeks, so I want to spend the time making happy memories. Speaking of memories, last Saturday Andy and I watched the movie, Kindergarten Cop, which we rented. It was about a police officer who looks like a body builder and goes undercover as a kindergarten teacher to try to catch a drug dealer. At the end, Andy said he wants to make crazy memories before he goes back to California, so I have a surprise for him for after the last football game this Friday. I don’t want to jinx it so I will write more about it after I do it, but I will say it involves the baseball dugout and a tealight candle.
I have some other news. We have something in common: one of my relatives is now living in our house. I suppose my relative is hiding from something, but not in the sense your relative is hiding from something. It is my Aunt Shari. She and my Uncle Matt are getting a divorce. Apparently, my Uncle Matt went out drinking with his friends again on Saturday night and he didn’t come home until eight on Sunday morning. I don’t blame my Aunt Shari for getting mad; when someone you are close to dies, you start to worry every time someone is late or is not where they said they would be. Have you ever experienced that? Anyway, when Uncle Matt finally came home, they got into a huge fight. Uncle Matt went to a friend’s house and Aunt Shari came here. On Monday while I was at school, Mom and Aunt Shari went to talk to a divorce lawyer and then yesterday she and Uncle Matt put their house up for sale. She is going to stay with us until they sell the house and she can get an apartment of her own. The good news for me is another adult living in the house means less babysitting for me and since I don’t have my license yet, another driver will be available, which hopefully will mean more time with Andy. I want to spend every minute I can with him until he leaves. The bad news is Aunt Shari took Forti’s room, so now we have to sleep together in my room in my bed. I feel sorry for my Aunt Shari and I hugged her when she came over Sunday, but I’ve spent all the time when I’m not eating or using the bathroom in my bedroom. For one, since Forti is sleeping here, I get almost no time for myself so want to take advantage of it when I can and for two, there has been a lot of crying, which challenges my be-light, have-fun goals.
Have you felt the baby kick yet? Write back when you can.
Your friend,
Ami
*****
23 November 1991
Dear Ami,
I have felt the baby kick. We have so much fun with it. Marija lies down on the couch then we push in her belly at different spots and the baby will kick back. We say it is going to be smart since it is already playing games.
We are in another “ceasefire,” which means little. Maja and I joke when they mention another ceasefire on television and make bets as to how long this one will last. We have had to debate our bets on this latest ceasefire in whispers after we went to bed, though, because Mama heard us the time before. She said it was poor manners to make bets over people’s lives. She said we could not do it again. Much of Dubrovnik has been destroyed. There are far fewer people left there. The ones who stayed are without electricity and have only a little bit of food to eat and water to drink. Four days ago, there was a big battle in Vukovar. Vukovar is in far eastern Croatia on border of the Vojvodina province in Serbia. Many people were killed. Yesterday, all of television stations were filled with an interview of Margaret Thatcher, who asked for Croatia and the other Yugoslavia republics who have declared independence, to be recognized. I am hopeful if Serbia gives up on trying to keep Croatia from becoming independent, the fighting will stop and we can go to see my grandparents. I miss them so much and am so hungry for my grandmother’s cooking.
Winter is coming. It is getting colder. It is too cold to even go outside to ride bikes. We just go to school, study, do chores, and watch television. And play with Marija’s belly. Mama, Maja, Stevo, Marija, and I are all trying to pick out a name. We have a list of boys’ names and a list of girls’ names taped to our refrigerator. Every time we walk by, we say names out loud then make a mark next to one we like the best that time. We try to say them all different ways: happy, excited, sad, stern. So far it is a tie.
I’m sorry to hear about your aunt and uncle getting divorced. Maybe losing Emily was too much for them. Maybe like your Aunt Shari reminding you Emily is gone and making you feel sad, so you like to avoid her, they remind each other. How was your “crazy memory” with Andy? Did it work? Was he surprised? I can’t wait to hear about it. Write back soon!
Your friend,
Nada
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On November 15th, Andy and I went to the last football game of the year. When I met him at my front door with my large purse holding my supplies, he looked at me weird. I told him I had a surprise. Throughout the whole game, he kept trying to guess the surprise, get me to give him hints, and peek in my purse. But I wouldn’t crack. I told him he had to wait and sat with my purse straps knotted through my arms. After the final buzzer of the game, he jumped up and said, “Is it time for the surprise?”
I relieved my arms of my purse straps, pushed them up my shoulder, and grabbed Andy’s hand. I led him down the bleachers and outside of the football stadium; after we cut away from the direction the crowd exited and got beyond the parking
lot lights, he whispered in my ear, “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” I pulled him ahead and looked over my shoulder. Once I was sure nobody saw us and couldn’t see us, I gave Andy the blindfold I borrowed from Prio’s pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey game. “Put this on.”
Along the ground, I shined the light from the mini flashlight I had hid in my purse behind the football stadium, across the soccer fields to the baseball diamonds on the far edge of the school property. It was dark and spooky with the dugouts of the baseball diamond facing a row of trees with cornfields behind them. If it wasn’t for Andy and then the flashlight, I would’ve been too scared to make it that far. I thought about asking Andy to take off the blindfold, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Halfway to the diamond, I heard a swoosh and sheets of rain poured down on us. I ran, pulling Andy behind me, trying not to fall or make him fall. When we reached the home team dugout, we were drenched and laughing.
“Can I take this off now?” Andy gasped for breath.
I sat him down on the two-by-four of unfinished wood that served as a bench. “Just a couple of more minutes. Let me get set up.” I carefully unwrapped the paper towels from the wine glasses I borrowed from our kitchen cupboard.
I thought I was going to get caught when my mom noticed they were missing the night before. She called me down to the kitchen from my room.
“Ami, have you seen my wine glasses?” she asked. I shrugged my shoulders.
“Are you sure you didn’t break one when you were doing dishes?
“Because it’s okay if you did; you can tell me.”
I started to feel nervous. “I didn’t break anything. If I would’ve, I would’ve told you.”
“Okay; I’m just asking.”
“I haven’t seen any wine glasses in the dirty dishes lately.”
She said, “Aunt Shari must have them in Forti’s room.”
I made it and I didn’t really lie. I didn’t break anything and I hadn’t seen the wine glasses in the dirty dishes.
In the dugout, I slowly turned the cap off the bottle of soda I’d bought; it hissed and I was afraid it was too shaken up from my running. I poured the soda into the glasses. I lit the tealight candle I’d taken from my mom’s supply with the matches that luckily stayed dry in the middle of my purse. I had also brought a little radio already set to a station that played romantic music in the evenings, but it was in the outside pocket of my purse. When I turned it on, it crackled and then went silent, so I tucked it back in my purse and slid it under the bench. I stood so Andy could see the candle and an occasional stray raindrop fell on my forearm. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Andy stood up and lifted the blindfold over his head. I extended one of the glasses of soda to him and he took it. “Here’s to crazy memories,” I said. Andy smiled. We tapped our glasses together and took a drink.
“Vintage cola,” he said. “My favorite.” Then he took my glass from my hand and put both of them down on the bench. He put his arms around my waist, pulled me close, and we started to dance in circles. I laid my head on his shoulder and we danced to our own music and that of the rain for the longest time. I didn’t want to leave, but at the last possible second to make it home before my ten o’clock curfew, we packed up and jogged back to my house. Andy kissed me once. When I turned to walk toward my door to go in, he pulled me back by my arm, kissed me again longer, and hugged me really tight. I think he may have been starting to cry because right after that, he turned and walked quickly away. Maybe it was foreshadowing of what happened next.
*****
December 9, 1991
Dear Nada,
I have another good news and bad news letter; mostly bad news. I will start with the good news. My crazy memory for Andy was perfect; the weather even cooperated. It was magical. I think I am in love.
Now for the bad news. Thanksgiving without Emily was horrible. We went to my grandma’s house for dinner. Everywhere I looked, I kept picturing myself with Emily last year, playing with her, and keeping her out of trouble. Except I wasn’t really remembering her alive and there, but I was remembering the photographs my mom and I took that day. More and more, I find it harder and harder to picture Emily alive in my mind. When I try to imagine the details of her face, it is just photographs I’ve seen. The only thing I am able to remember that is not a photograph is still the image of her lying in her casket. After a while I gave up trying; I skipped dinner and spent the day on the bed in my grandparents’ spare bedroom.
My other bad news is Andy broke up with me two days ago. It was Saturday night; my mom and Aunt Shari went out to a movie. I babysat Forti and Prio. My mom said Andy could come over, rent movies, and order pizza. Everything was going fine. We watched Home Alone with Forti and Prio. We sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch and for a while I rested my head on his shoulder. I tucked Forti and Prio into bed; when I came back downstairs, Andy looked really sad.
“Are you ready to watch our movie?” I asked.
“I am going back to California in less than two weeks.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to go.” I sat down in the small space between Andy and the arm of the couch; he moved away. “I think we should just be friends.”
I stared at my hands clenched together in my lap.
He said, “If we are just friends, I think it won’t hurt so much when I have to leave.”
I looked up; his face was blurry through my tears. “Don’t you think it is a little late for that?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you doing this?”
“We can still spend the day together next Sunday when you get home from your dad’s like we planned.”
I screamed at him, “Get out of here!” I slammed the door behind his back. Why did he have to ruin his last few days here? I was awake most of the night crying; the last time I looked at my clock it was 4:48 a.m.
You will never guess what happened next. My mom knocked on my door at 10 a.m. and said Andy was on the phone for me. He acted like nothing had happened; he acted like we were actually friends. He came over in the afternoon to study for our biology test. I made us hot cocoa and everything was the same as it had been, except we didn’t hold hands and he didn’t kiss me goodbye. It made me mad.
On Monday, he walked me home after school like always but he didn’t hold my hand like always. As we got closer to my house, I clenched my fists tighter at my sides. I felt like I was a pot of water on the stove getting ready to boil. He kept talking about the science test, going over every question, trying to figure out if he answered them correctly. When we got to the front of my house, I crossed my arms in front of me and stared at him.
“I’d better get going,” he said, and then turned to walk away.
“Fine. See you later, friend.”
He turned around. “Is something wrong?”
Then my anger changed to fear and I realized if I made Andy mad, he might not want to be my friend either. So I just smiled and said, “No. I was just saying see you later.” He waved and left.
I don’t want to screw up the little time I have left with Andy here by fighting with him, but I just don’t see how simply not kissing or holding hands is going to make it any easier when he goes back to California. Do you? Maybe I am missing something. Please tell me what you think.
Please don’t be surprised if my next letter is very depressing; by the time you get this and write me back, Andy will be gone and I will be enduring the holidays without Emily. Which reminds me, do you celebrate Christmas or New Year’s? We usually have a Christmas Eve party at my grandma’s house with my great aunts and uncles, my grandparents’ neighbors, and friends. On Christmas Day, we go back for a big ham dinner. Then, we do it all over again on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Since my dad left, I have to miss one or the other, though, because I have to go stay with him. This year, we are there for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and I think we are going to Nikki’s parents’ house for Christmas Eve. She is cooking turkey dinner
for us and my dad on Christmas Day, which I’m sure will be delicious (not!). But at least it will be different and maybe it will keep my mind off Emily and Andy.
I hope the war continues to stay away from Rijeka! Write me back when you can.
Your friend,
Ami
*****
16 December 1991
Dear Ami,
Andy sounds like a really mixed-up boy. I’m sorry he broke up with you. By now you should have had your last weekend “date” together. I hope he realized how stupid he was acting. I agree with you. By now, “just being friends” is not going to change your feelings. If he wanted to avoid missing you when he goes back to California, he should have never spent any time with you in first place. Now it is too late. He should just enjoy the time he has left. He will be going back home whether he spends the time being miserable without a girlfriend or having fun with his girlfriend. Did he say he will write to you or call you on the telephone after he goes back?
Marija’s belly is getting huge! Sometimes it even has corners. Marija says that is the baby’s elbows or knees. How odd that must feel! I hope your upcoming holidays are better than your “Thanksgiving.” We don’t have a Thanksgiving in Croatia but we learned about this American holiday in school. We also learned about your Christmas holidays. Ours are a little different. Instead of on 24 December, St. Nicholas visited kids here on 5 December. We leave our boots or socks on window and then, if we’ve been good, when we wake up on 6 December, they are filled with candies and chocolate. The Roman Catholics or Croats celebrate Christmas much like Americans. On 24, they don’t eat meat, drink milk, or consume anything that comes from animals, just fish and dried figs. They have mass at church at the end of night for an hour. The next day, they have a huge dinner with roast pig and Sarma which is ground beef, rice, and other things rolled in cabbage. They also have mashed potatoes, prosciutto, cheeses, pickles, cookies, and cakes. The Catholic Orthodox’s or Serb Christmas is celebrated on 6 and 7 January. Some people go out to party on 6 January. At 4 a.m. on 7 January, we have to go to church for the Uranak service. Later in the day, we have our meal with basically same things the Roman Catholics have on 25 December. For Roman Catholics, 6 January is Three Kings Day and is the day they take down their Christmas trees and decorations. With the war, this year we won’t even be able to go to church for Christmas. All of the Catholic Orthodox churches are closed.