“H-holy s-shit!” Lenny exlaimed. Oh God. Were more curses to follow?
“You shouldn’t swear, grandpa,” Ben said.
“O-okay,” Lenny agreed. His hand rested on the paw, but mercifully the voice didn’t go off again. He was wearing blue button-down pajamas that looked new. The right side of his face drooped, and his glasses were askew, but hey, they were on. Could he read anything and comprehend it? His hair was greasy-looking, but at least it was combed back. Someone attended to him.
“How do you feel, Dad?” Luna asked him.
“O-okay.”
“Do you want some cookies?” She’d brought a plate.
“O-okay.” But when she extended the tray he just stared at it blankly and continued touching the paw.
“I don’t think he understands you, Mom,” Ben said.
“I’ll give him a test,” Luna said. “Dad, do you want to go to Mars?”
“O-okay,” Lenny said.
The boys laughed, but Luna didn’t find it funny at all. There seemed to be no point in this conversation with her father, which kind of mimicked their entire relationship.
There was a little jade Buddha on the windowsill. Clearly Aunt Zelda had been there. Too bad she’d missed her, but she’d see her on New Year’s Eve. Luna and the boys always rang in the New Year on the East River.
“Where’s Mom?” Luna asked Lenny.
Lenny shrugged. “F-fuck…”
The boys looked uncomfortable. Why had Lenny cursed? Was he trying to say, “Fuck if I know?” Or was it just some random utterance?
She didn’t want the boys to hear any more cursing, and she didn’t think this visit was doing them any good in general. “Grandpa’s been through a lot,” Luna told them. “We should let him rest.”
“But we didn’t bring him a birthday cake,” Dylan said. “Everyone needs a birthday cake.”
“Nonna will bring him one,” Luna said. There was about a one-in-fifty chance of that, but whatever. Luna couldn’t take anymore right now. She couldn’t be in charge of making sure Lenny got his cake. It was all she could do to take care of her sons.
Lenny had left her in Loreena’s hands while she was little, and she had managed to get by. Now it was his turn.
It wasn’t a case of revenge, or turning the tables with a vengeance. It was just how things had turned out.
Who are you trying to convince? Jiminy asked.
“Tell Grandpa goodbye, boys,” Luna said, trying to tune Jiminy out.
“Bye-bye, Grandpa!” The boys both exclaimed, and they waved. Probably they were intimidated by the wheelchair, and didn’t want to go closer, especially to kiss a man they barely knew. Luna wouldn’t push them. She didn’t kiss him either.
Lenny was staring at them through those slanted glasses, and touching that teddy bear. He didn’t say anything.
“Happy birthday, Dad,” she told him.
“H-happy b-birthday,” he parroted back, as they left the antiseptic-smelling room.
Luna took the kids to a pizza place down the block from Blue Skies. It was just the thing to shift their collective mood. And even though it was December, they had Italian ices for dessert.
Luna dropped the boys at Sunny’s for yet another sleep-over. “Thanks again,” Luna told her.
“They’re no trouble at all. As a matter of fact, my kids are less trouble when your kids are here, because they all entertain each other. Ka-chow!”
“I’ll call you after the date and check in.”
“Have fun, Chicky. You deserve it.”
“Thanks.” She almost believed that.
Luna and Alex met at Dojo in Greenwich Village, a restaurant both cheap and good. The smell of spices and beer filled the air and some kind of funky instrumental music was playing. They were seated at the very last table in the rear, facing the beige wall.
Luna joked, “Nobody puts Baby in the corner.”
He laughed, but Luna wondered if he’d ever heard of Dirty Dancing. He was so damn young.
She didn’t ask.
Alex was very cute. He looked like a younger Johnny Depp.
Luna felt all tingly.
Simmer down, said Jiminy. Remember, this guy lives in a halfway house. Can the metaphor be any more obvious?
Well, I can meet him halfway.
Cute. I can see you’re determined to learn the hard way on this one.
I definitely want it hard.
That’s gross.
Thank goodness Alex was oblivious to Luna’s inner dialogue. He reached across the table and put his hand on her arm. “You’re very beautiful,” he said.
Wow.
“Thank you,” she said, for lack of a better line. Who could think of witty banter with all these vibes rushing between them? Luna felt like an electrical circuit, all charged up. Fortunately, Alex moved his hand off her arm to take a sip of water. Now she could (hopefully) concentrate on their conversation without jumping his bones.
Here are some of the things Luna learned about Alex:
STATS ON ALEX
Name: Alexander Polaner (no relation to the jelly-makers.)
Ethnic Background: Czechoslovakian
Marital Status: Divorced (Yes, in his young life he’d already managed to take the plunge, even in his drug haze. A girl from Uganda had convinced him she loved him, but somehow stopped once she’d obtained her green card.)
Children: None.
Hair: Sandy brown.
Eyes: Intense green.
Occupation: Attending a computer school in the Empire State Building, and working an office temp job.
Favorite Physical Activities: Basketball, hockey (not that he’d played either in a while.)
Other likes: Trying to find himself (See also: Religion). Staying clean. Pickles. Star Wars (though what Luna thought of as the “original” Star Wars movie, he thought of as Episode Four: A New Hope).
Dislikes: He said he didn’t have any. He was a pretty mellow fellow.
Body: Nothing to complain about! He had the body of a healthy twenty-seven-year-old. You would never know he’d been all cracked out.
Religion: Raised Protestant, he was studying different religions now, trying to decide which one he liked.
Favorite Writers: Melody Beattie & Louise Hay.
Favorite Dessert: Cheesecake.
Favorite Expression: “One day at a time.” (Luna knew this as a TV show. She’d grown up watching its reruns.)
They finished dinner. Luna excused herself and headed to the ladies’ room. Part of her worried, What if he leaves? She peed at breakneck speed and returned to the table.
He was still there.
She said, “Oh good, you didn’t run away.”
He looked at her intently, with those amazing eyes. “No, never,” he said.
After dinner, they walked down St. Mark’s Place. It was chilly, but not as bad as late December could be. There was the bright mix of lights from buildings, street vendors and passing cars, the soft orange glow of cigarettes in passing hands, the brash sounds of honking horns and music competing from stores and vehicles, the murmuring chit-chat from sidewalk traffic they dodged.
And there was them.
He slipped her his hand.
She accepted it, sliding her fingers around his.
It felt like they were alone now… like everything else in this big, noisy city had vanished.
They got in her van and he kissed her.
Kissing Alex was even better than the snuggle party kissing because it wasn’t random. Alex wanted her, not just any stranger.
You are strangers, said Jiminy. Don’t you get it? Just because you had dinner together doesn’t make you a couple. Slow down, Luna.
But that tingling was back, and it was all that mattered. Luna was falling hard.
Good grief, said Jiminy.
All good make-out sessions must come to an end, and this evening had a curfew. They realized they were cutting it close when they defogged the windows and the clock, which s
aid “9:46.”
Less than fifteen minutes to make it to his halfway house in Spanish Harlem.
“What happens if you’re late?” she asked him as she sped uptown, dodging lights and taxis. This was like Cinderella’s mad dash home, except now Prince Charming was in jeopardy.
“They lock me out and report me to my probation officer.”
“Do you have somewhere to go in case?”
“Ummm… no.”
Poor Prince Charming…
Some prince, said Jiminy. Honestly, Luna. Wake up! This isn’t a fairy tale.
Luna was too busy pressing her pedal and honking to pay Jiminy any attention. They had to make it to the halfway house on time… She couldn’t leave Alex on the street. Nor could she bring him home.
She got stuck at a red light and cursed.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get there,” Alex told her. He rubbed her leg. She was acutely aware of the scent of him.
“You’re a gem,” he said. “You know that?”
As a matter of fact, she didn’t.
But it was certainly nice to hear, even in that panicked moment.
They made it with a minute to spare, literally.
She pulled up to the curb. “Go, go!” she urged him.
He said, “I have to get my kiss goodnight.”
And he did.
Luna coasted on that kiss until she hit the RFK Bridge. Then, she wanted conversation. “Did you have something to say, Jiminy?”
No reply. That was Jiminy all right.
“Petulant little bastard,” she said, hoping to draw him out.
But the silence remained, so she turned the radio on.
TWENTY-TWO
A couple of nights later, Luna and Alex went to see the holiday lights on the houses in Dyker Heights, Brooklyn. Two weeks before Christmas she and her boys had gone with Sunny, Sunny’s kids and the Coconut. Little did The Coconut know it was to be his last outing with Sunny, who hadn’t even invited him. For weeks she’d stealthily avoided mentioning the upcoming excursion in The Coconut’s presence, but Phoebe slipped and told him the day before they were going to go, and so there he was. He’d worn an absurd woolen hat with pointed top.
“You look like an elf,” Sunny informed him.
He’d shrugged and tried to link his arm around hers, but she’d elbowed him away.
Despite Sunny and The Coconut’s less than romantic foray, Luna had longed for a man to share the glistening lights with.
And now, she had one!
Luna and Alex held hands and walked close because it was cold, and because they wanted to.
The streets glowed from the light the houses cast on them. It was as if Luna and Alex had been transported to a magical land. But Luna could not relax completely into the twinkling setting, even though she was getting something she desperately wanted—just like in a fairy tale. She felt an uneasiness tugging at her, pulling her back into her real world of worry.
Alex had such an air of peace, despite all he’d been through. She asked how this was possible.
Alex smiled. “It’s easy,” Alex said. “You just gotta surrender.”
What did that mean? “Could you explain that? What am I supposed to surrender to?”
The shining lights seemed like beacons. They framed Alex’s face. “To God… or whatever you want to call your higher power. Call it Fred if it makes you happy.”
Luna wasn’t sure she was comfortable with any higher power, even one named Fred. “And what does it mean to surrender?”
“It’s like this leap of faith. You put yourself in his hands. That’s the best way I can describe it. All religions have it. When people are raised with something, they don’t question it. If you come to it later in life, it’s harder.”
She looked at him dubiously. Her religious training had consisted of a couple of trips to the Zendo with Aunt Zelda, which were confusing. Most of the time no one spoke, and when they chanted, it was in Japanese. “How do you know so much about this?”
“It’s the main thing they teach you in addiction recovery.”
“And surrendering helped you?”
“Helped me?” He laughed. “Luna, it saved my life.”
Alex was safely stowed in Spanish Harlem, and Luna was on her dock in the dark. Sitting on one of the built-in benches, Luna thought about surrender.
She was terrified.
She’d learned early that she was no one’s priority. Even Aunt Zelda had something more important.
People had always let her down.
What if God rejected her?
Moonlight reflected in the rippling water. It was calm out here at midnight. The wildlife slept somewhere in the marsh, probably the fish were resting, too. Why couldn’t she quell the uneasiness she felt? Why couldn’t she just ‘be?’
There was an order in the universe, she knew it.
It was obvious in nature.
And something had led her this far.
She’d gone down the path kicking and screaming. Look how long it took her to ditch Nick!
What would it be like to let go of her guard and her fears and her doubts and just live?
She decided to take the leap.
She watched the water for a while, trying to relax. Prepare. What was the protocol on surrendering, anyway?
How do I start? What’s the opening line?
She’d never prayed before.
No, that wasn’t true. It came back to her now. Once, years ago, she had:
Zelda had blurted the truth about Lenny’s addiction, and Luna had wished fervently that her father wouldn’t come home. She became obsessed with the fear of seeing him shoot up. She’d heard about this – apparently rock stars did heroin a lot. If she saw her father do it she might literally lose her mind.
That’s when she thought of God. But it wasn’t easy to pray, given what little she knew about him.
STATS ON GOD:
Name: God
Ethnic Background: Unknown.
Marital status: Unknown.
Children: Depends on whom you ask.
Body: Unknown. In paintings he was wearing a long, flowing robe. Even if the artists did know what God looked like, his physique was impossible to pinpoint.
Hair: Silver and flowing.
Occupation: Watching over the world. He lived in the clouds and apparently could see everyone at once. This might seem far-fetched, but after all, Luna had believed in Santa Claus until Miriam, a girl in her second-grade class, felt the need to enlighten her. Under questioning, Loreena had admitted she’d lied. Still, it might be possible to see everyone at once. Annoying, but possible. This guy God must’ve had lots of patience and concentration skills.
Other likes: Goodness, honesty.
Dislikes: Sinning.
Religion: Depends on whom you ask.
Favorite writers: Unknown.
Favorite dessert: Unknown.
Favorite expression: Depends on whom you ask.
All these blanks made it hard for Luna to muster up faith.
The other kids in school went to churches and temples. They accepted everything they were taught, believed the biblical tales they read. But how could all the religions be right when they contradicted each other? As for the Bible, Luna didn’t like those stories. Some of them were downright upsetting. Like Noah’s Ark. She couldn’t stop thinking about all the innocent animals and children who drowned.
If there was a guy up there watching, why was he leaving her all alone down here with a mom who got off work at five but wasn’t home until ten (on an early night), even though it was a fifteen-minute ride? And why had God given her a dad who sucked? Her aunt was no help with the Zen stuff, which was too confusing. Zelda didn’t want to discuss God at all, so Luna was left to sort this out herself.
She figured: Why not talk to God?
There was nobody else.
“Please, God, don’t let me see the needle,” she begged once, leaning into her patchwork quilt with her eyes closed. “Pleas
e…”
That would be too much.
On the rare days when her father was there, she’d prayed.
Creaking up the right side of the stairs toward the bedrooms—the left side was piled with papers, boxes and shoes—she’d chanted it. Turning the corner midway, facing the banister fully loaded with Mom’s wardrobe draped over, she’d pleaded: “Please don’t let me see my father shooting up. Amen.”
And maybe God had listened, or maybe it was luck, but she never had.
She stared at the water now, reflecting on that day all those years ago when she’d prayed not to see her father’s needle. It was the one thing she’d ever asked of God.
He hadn’t let her down.
She’d never reconciled whether it was God or dumb luck that protected her from that sight. Part of her felt it easier not to believe in God—because he was such an uncertainty, and who needed more of that?
But part of her—the deepest part—did believe. If not in the God everyone else subscribed to, at least in the force that had spared her when she’d begged.
She called on that part now, and she let it speak.
“Thank you,” she said.
The words felt right.
She got on her knees on the dock’s wood surface and she pushed her palms into grain. “Thank you,” she said again.
She wanted to say “Thank you, God,” but somehow the “God” part wouldn’t come out.
Really? asked Jiminy. Is it that much of a struggle? You did it when you were a child. Why not now?
“I guess… because so much has happened. It’s just harder to say the word now.”
You’re a writer, Luna. You should know: What’s in a name?
“You’re right.” She was tired of fighting the current, of bucking the system. It was a lot of resistance for no payoff. “I’ll bow to tradition this once.”
Atta girl!
“Thank you, God.” Luna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, the egret she often watched was plodding along the shoreline. An odd sight—she’d never seen any birds at night, other than the occasional duck.
Luna Rising Page 15