The Blue Girl
Page 13
Please, Dad, she said, put down your ball and listen for a minute. Ethan’s helpless. He gets locked in his bedroom at night, and he got out. He can’t be let out alone.
I remember Colin turning to me and saying, What a terrible thing it must be for him to be locked up like that.
I hadn’t answered then, but I think I can now. I pad into the living room and find Colin just sitting, holding his Nerf ball. He is not playing a game. He is looking first at the television and then at the ball and then back at the television again.
The boy is all right, I say. I sit down next to him on the sofa. He does not try to move away from me. This morning you said how hard it must be, and you are right, Colin. It is hard.
He lays the ball down in the space between us.
Yes, he says. It is.
Six months later, I discover that Colin is gone. It is spring, that time when we are still just a town that happens to have a lake, a town that will change with the arrival of the summer people who take up residence in the cottages along the lakeshore and bring with them children in matching bathing suits and sand toys and chairs and towels. I tell no one. Audrey has only begun to sleep again, and she and Caroline and Rebecca laugh during the evenings in Audrey’s room. Every Thursday Buck and I drive to Libby’s, where he and Ethan sit and watch cartoons. Libby’s husband works late most nights, and she takes comfort in the bits of dreams she has begun to have again. Sometimes she even tells them to me. Rebecca and Greg continue to meet, but never on Magda’s porch.
We talk about many things, the three of us, but never about that last day at the lake. It is as if we are afraid that if we start talking, we might never be able to stop.
I am alone in the house when I find the basketball hoop removed from its place over the door and the Nerf ball left sitting on the living room sofa, the foam ball pecked as if by birds. Just before I find the ball, I had planned to go out to the lake for the first time since the day we watched her float out there, down and away from us. At times I wonder whether we will find her one day, spread out on the lake water with her skin throwing blue shadows over the sun. If she does surface, will we leave her there or try to fish her out? I don’t know the answers, but I do miss the smell of the moon pies from time to time, the baking and feeding, the feeling of cleanliness in my hand the day she lapped at the bits of marshmallow and chocolate I had made for her.
I find the note folded on the front seat of the car. I unfold it slowly and hold my breath, thinking of what I might say to the children when they come home, when they ask about their father, who stopped playing his games and left behind the television he feared would explode.
I stand there with the note pressed to my chest. I don’t call the police or the hospital, or drive out to the lake, not yet. I go back inside the house and pick up the Nerf ball he left behind on the couch. When I lift it, I see a glint of silver stuffed into the space between the seat and the back of the couch. I reach in with my hand to dig it out and find a stale moon pie, one I must have made long ago, wrapped in foil, waiting to be eaten.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
No book is written in a vacuum, and I offer my gratitude to the following people and places for time, encouragement, and solace:
to the various editors, anthologies, and magazines for space and attention to various portions of this novel;
to the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts for gloriously uninterrupted time;
to all of the folks at Coffee House Press, especially to Chris Fischbach, Caroline Casey, Amelia Foster, and Molly Fuller, who have helped shepherd this novel through to the end;
to the “Lesley Posse” current students and alum, and to the Lesley faculty who heard early versions of this novel and offered such generous cheering on when I needed it most;
to all of my Goddard people;
to the literary folk I’m lucky to call such fine friends: Alison McGhee, Judith Dupré, Rachel Kadish, Erin Belieu, Tony Eprile, and Chris Lynch, and of course to Cate Marvin;
to Michael, and to our children, Ella and Zachariah, who did not exist at the time of this novel’s conception, hard as that seems now to imagine;
to all of the parents and all of the children with special needs who walk this path we walk;
to my father, who gave me gifts too many to enumerate, and whose strength and courage sustain me still;
to my beautiful mother, who was with me for most of the writing of this book, who watched my kids since they were babies so that I could write. There will never be enough words to say how much I thank you, love you, miss you;
to Allan Kornblum for the phone call in 1993 that changed everything, and for the vision and dedication that challenged and bettered all of the novels I had the privilege to work on with him. You are missed, friend.
FUNDER ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Coffee House Press is an independent, nonprofit literary publisher. All of our books, including the one in your hands, are made possible through the generous support of grants and donations from corporate giving programs, state and federal support, family foundations, and the many individuals that believe in the transformational power of literature. We receive major operating support from Amazon, the Bush Foundation, the McKnight Foundation, and Target. This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a Minnesota State Arts Board Operating Support grant, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund. Our publishing program is also supported in part by the Jerome Foundation and an award from the National Endowment for the Arts. To find out more about how NEA grants impact individuals and communities, visit www.arts.gov.
Coffee House Press receives additional support from many anonymous donors; the Alexander Family Fund; the Archer Bondarenko Munificence Fund; the Elmer L. & Eleanor J. Andersen Foundation; the David & Mary Anderson Family Foundation; the E. Thomas Binger & Rebecca Rand Fund of the Minneapolis Foundation; the Patrick & Aimee Butler Family Foundation; the Buuck Family Foundation; the Carolyn Foundation; the Dorsey & Whitney Foundation; Fredrikson & Byron, P.A.; the Lenfestey Family Foundation; the Mead Witter Foundation; the Schwab Charitable Fund; Schwegman, Lundberg & Woessner, P.A.; Penguin Group; the Private Client Reserve of US Bank; VSA Minnesota for the Metropolitan Regional Arts Council; the Archie D. & Bertha H. Walker Foundation; the Wells Fargo Foundation of Minnesota; and the Woessner Freeman Family Foundation.
THE PUBLISHER’S CIRCLE OF COFFEE HOUSE PRESS
Publisher’s Circle members make significant contributions to Coffee House Press’s annual giving campaign. Understanding that a strong financial base is necessary for the press to meet the challenges and opportunities that arise each year, this group plays a crucial part in the success of our mission.
“Coffee House Press believes that American literature should be as diverse as America itself. Known for consistently championing authors whose work challenges cultural and aesthetic norms, we believe their books deserve space in the marketplace of ideas. Publishing literature has never been an easy business, and publishing literature that truly takes risks is a cause we believe is worthy of significant support. We ask you to join us today in helping to ensure the future of Coffee House Press.”
—THE PUBLISHER’S CIRCLE MEMBERS OF COFFEE HOUSE PRESS
Publisher’s Circle Members include: many anonymous donors, Mr. & Mrs. Rand L. Alexander, Suzanne Allen, Patricia Beithon, Bill Berkson & Connie Lewallen, Robert & Gail Buuck, Claire Casey, Louise Copeland, Jane Dalrymple-Hollo, Mary Ebert & Paul Stembler, Chris Fischbach & Katie Dublinski, Katharine Freeman, Sally French, Jocelyn Hale & Glenn Miller, Jeffrey Hom, Kenneth & Susan Kahn, Kenneth Koch Literary Estate, Stephen & Isabel Keating, Allan & Cinda Kornblum, Leslie Larson Maheras, Jim & Susan Lenfestey, Sarah Lutman & Rob Rudolph, Carol & Aaron Mack, George Mack, Joshua Mack, Gillian McCain, Mary & Malcolm McDermid, Sjur Midness & Briar Andresen, Peter Nelson & Jennifer Swenson, Marc Porter & James Hennessy, the Rehael Fund-Roger Hale & Nor Hall of the Minneapolis Foundation, Jeffrey Sugerman & Sar
ah Schultz, Nan Swid, Patricia Tilton, Stu Wilson & Melissa Barker, Warren D. Woessner & Iris C. Freeman, and Margaret & Angus Wurtele.
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ALLAN KORNBLUM, 1949–2014
Vision is about looking at the world and seeing not what it is, but what it could be. Allan Kornblum’s vision and leadership created Coffee House Press. To celebrate his legacy, every book we publish in 2015 will be in his memory.
The Blue Girl was designed at Coffee House Press, in the historic Grain Belt Brewery’s Bottling House near downtown Minneapolis. The text is set in Spectrum MT with Glamor used as display.