“Yep. Mine did. It just lies dormant in your cells, but it can rear its ugly head again any old time it wants.”
“Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”
“Mmhm.”
“For real, though?”
“Sorry, girl.”
“That sucks.”
“It’s pretty rare for it to happen. I mean, it probably won’t happen to you. Want to see the hole in the fence?”
“Um…okay?”
“Come on!”
We walked a little farther. A man with a hunched back was mowing the grass about fifty yards away. I wondered if he had leprosy.
“There it is!” Jane pointed to a section of the nine-foot wire fence.
“Um,” I said, looking closer. “There’s no hole there.”
“Yeah, but there’s a tunnel underneath.” She knelt down and swept some dirt away, then lifted up a piece of plywood that had been covered in dirt. “See?”
I peered down into the small, dark hole. It barely seemed big enough for a person to fit through.
“In the early days, when they weren’t allowed to leave, someone found this spot where the fence didn’t go down as far. They dug underneath it and made a tunnel through to the other side so people could sneak out without getting caught.”
“Really?”
“Sure. You could go to Baton Rouge for the night, party, spend the night there even, and come back in the morning. No one would ever know. Obviously it’s not the same fence from back then, but they recreated the hole in the same spot as part of the museum.”
“Wild.”
“Get this,” she said. “Are you a romantic?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, anyway. The people who met in here and wanted to get married would sneak out through this hole and catch a ride into town to get married.”
“Why wouldn’t they just get married here? There’s a church and everything.”
“They weren’t allowed! People with leprosy weren’t allowed to marry each other!”
“Oh.”
“And if they were already married, to someone on the outside, who didn’t have leprosy, their husband or wife wasn’t allowed to come here and live with them. They could only visit.”
“That would suck.”
“I know, right?” She ran her fingers along the edge of the hole. Her left ring finger was just a stub, but you could hardly notice because she was so pretty and perfect and put together.
“How do you know all that?”
“Oh, I’ve read about it,” she said. “Plus, two of the old-timers still live here. They have lots of good stories.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Grace and Lester. I’ll introduce you later. They’ve been here for over sixty years, from back when it was mandatory to stay here. Then, when it changed, the government gave them a choice to leave and have their freedom, or stay here and have everything provided, at no cost to them. They chose to stay.”
“That’s crazy. I would never stay here if I had the choice.”
She shrugged. “This is their home.”
“It used to be a prison,” I said.
“It used to be death row,” Jane said. “Only the people sentenced to die here didn’t commit any crime except getting the disease.”
We took a left away from the fence and walked along a gravel path that seemed to have no end.
“Where are we going?” I said.
“Nowhere in particular,” Jane said. “Just walking. I thought we’d walk around for a bit and then go to the mess hall. It’s not long now till dinnertime. That is, if you want to keep walking…?”
“Yeah, I do,” I said.
“I’ll show you the lake.”
“Okay.”
“It’s called Lake Johansen. Named after one of the first doctors here.”
“You really know a lot about the history here. Are you one of the other guides or something?”
“Nope. Like I said, I’ve read about it. There’s not too much to do around here so there’s a lot of time to read. I mean, there’s the lake and a golf course and a church, but I don’t really peg you as a golfer.”
I laughed. “Nope. I’ve never played.”
“Never?”
“Mini-putt.”
“Oh, we’ll get out there,” she said. “It’s actually really hard, golf. That’s what people don’t realize. I mean, it looks pretty relaxed, driving those carts around or walking, getting someone else to carry your bags…but, it’s actually super difficult.”
“My dad plays. It can’t be that hard.”
Jane laughed.
We rounded a corner and saw about fifty cadets in khaki pants and green shirts doing some kind of drill. We stopped for a moment, watching them.
“ATTENTION!” a guy in camo yelled from the front. They all saluted him.
“Intense,” I whispered.
“That’s the youth-at-risk program,” Jane said.
“Is it all guys?”
“Mostly. I think there are one or two girls.” We kept walking.
“So, are they, like, criminals? I mean, young offenders, or…”
“Not yet,” Jane said.
We walked past them but kept our distance. I stared, I couldn’t help it. There was one guy in the front row, he was a mega-babe. He was taller than everyone else and had sandy-brown hair that hung past his ears. We locked eyes. My first thought was, How can I find him and talk to him? And my second thought was, STUPID! Dumbdumbdumbass idiot! He knows why you’re here. He knows you’re a leper. Why would he even want to be in the same room as you, let alone talk to you? He wouldn’t. It would never happen.
A deep shame burned through me; I wanted to melt into the ground. I wished he’d never seen me. I wished he would have never known. By this point, I was staring at the ground, but I took one last glance at him, and he was still looking at me. Damn. Jane cut her eyes at me.
“You like a man in uniform?”
“I’m not totally opposed to a man in uniform,” I said.
She laughed. “So you’re in school still?” She steered me left at a fork in the path.
“Yep.”
“What grade?”
“Twelfth.”
“Ahh, a senior.”
“Mmhm.”
“You like high school?”
“Yeah, I mean, I did. I used to like it, before I got sick.”
Jane nodded. “You were popular, right?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“That’s hard,” she said. “You know what no one ever tells you about high school?”
“What?”
“That it repeats over and over again, throughout your whole life.” She tucked her hair behind her ears.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying that being an adult is the same as being in high school, except with money. Life is perpetual high school.”
“No,” I said.
She nodded. “It’s true.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’ll see.”
“But—”
“Let me guess, you were one of the most popular girls in school, one of the most beautiful, all the guys wanted to go out with you, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“But pretty close, right?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, listen. Girls who get by on looks and luck alone get a real shock once they get older. Their looks don’t get them what they want all the time anymore. It’s the brainy girls who get the best jobs and the great husbands, because those girls are relying on something that lasts, something of real value. So now, in your senior year, you get Hansen’s disease. Not the worst thing in the world. Not the worst timing either. Because now you can start working on other aspects of yourself,” Jane said. “Not just focusing on your appearance all the time.”
“What makes you think you know so much about me?”
> “Look at me,” she said. “Do you think I’m so different from you? I was exactly where you are now, ten years ago.”
We walked in silence for a while. Songbirds chirped in a tree above us. I kicked at a rock in the path. I looked at Jane out of the corner of my eye. She looked like someone who told the truth. I didn’t know whether or not to be offended by what she’d said. But as far as I could tell, she was my best chance at social interaction, and I didn’t want to buck it up and be a loner for the next four weeks.
“Someone should make a movie like that,” I said. “Where the characters repeat high school until they’re old. Sort of like Groundhog Day, except the characters actually age.”
“That could be funny,” Jane said. “I’d watch it, for sure.”
“What’s your job?” I said. “I mean…do you have a job?”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “I’m a waitress at Junior’s.”
“What’s Junior’s?”
“Sorry. Junior’s Most Fabulous Cheesecakes and Desserts. It’s in Brooklyn.”
“I like cheesecake.”
“Most people do. Hey, you should come in next time you’re in New York. I’ll give you a slice on the house.”
I laughed. “I’ve never been to New York.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I was planning to go to L.A. for university, but I don’t know if that’s going to happen now. I mean…because of…”
“Well, I always say there are two kinds of people,” Jane said.
“Yeah?”
“L.A. people and New York people.”
“What about Austin people?”
“Honey, nobody gives a rat’s pitoot about Austin people.”
I laughed. “You’re probably right.”
“There’s the lake.” She pointed to a small man-made lake in the middle of the field. Some ducks floated on the surface and willow trees leaned over the edge, dipping their branches in the water.
“Nice,” I said.
“There’s a little rowboat you can take out on it if you want.”
“Yeah?”
“Might have a hole in it though. I’m not sure.”
“Huh,” I said. “Seems…risky.”
“Hey, they gotta keep it interesting around here somehow, right?” Jane maneuvered us toward a huge white building. “Ready for dinner?”
“Is it edible?”
“Most of the time.” She put her arm around my shoulders. “Come on.”
The dining hall was full of cadets when we walked in. There were over a hundred of them in there. They made a terrible racket that bounced off the high ceilings. Jane led me down the aisle between the rows of long tables. In the corner closest to the kitchen was a table that had a sign that said RESERVED on it. Jane walked to the other side of the table, taking long elegant strides. She pulled out a chair.
“Um,” I said. “Are you sure we can sit here? It says reserved.”
She sat down. “Abby. Who do you think it’s reserved for?”
“Oh. Right.” I took a seat, feeling sheepish.
Most of the cadets were already eating, but some were still in line, waiting for their food. He was in line. Tall guy. From before. On the field. We locked eyes for the second time that day. He grinned at me. I turned away, scratching my neck.
“Sorry, what?” I snuck another peek at him.
“I didn’t say anything,” Jane said. She followed my line of sight. “Oh no. Don’t even.”
“What?”
“Never mind. I don’t want to know. I mean, I do want to know, but not right now. It’ll spoil my appetite.”
I looked at her and she made a goofy face. I couldn’t help laughing.
“Oh look, here come Grace and Lester,” Jane said. “You’ll love them. They’re so sweet.”
I turned around. An ancient gray-haired couple ambled into the dining hall. They both wore huge sunglasses. The man had a white cane that he whacked around and the woman clung to his arm, her humped back rising almost above her head. “Jeez,” I said. “Talk about the blind leading the blind.”
Jane turned to me, sharp. “Yeah, they’re blind. They got Hansen’s disease before there were sulfone drugs. The bacteria attacked the nerves in their eyes. You’d be going blind too in the next few years if it weren’t for the drugs.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“It’s okay,” Jane said. “You’re just young…and stupid.” Her mouth twitched into a half-smirk.
“It’s true that I’m young,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s get in line.”
When we lined up, the three cadets ahead of us skooched in closer to put distance between us and them. They eyed us up and down and whispered to each other. It hurt, but somehow having Jane there with me made it hurt less.
“If they’re scared of getting close to us, I’d hate to see what they’re going to be like in Afghanistan,” she said.
“I guess they’ll still piss their pants,” I said. “Just more frequently.”
“More fervently,” Jane said.
“So will all of them be in the military eventually?” I said.
“Not all, I don’t think. But a lot of them, if they’re not in jail,” Jane said, shrugging.
A boy ahead of us laughed and his buddy stuck out his tongue as if he were gagging on it.
“What do you have to do to land in here anyway?” I said.
“Basically you have to be more of an asshole than the people around you deem necessary. From what I’ve ascertained, these guys are the cream of the crop.”
My cadet was about ten people ahead of us. I could see the back of his head, towering above everyone else’s. He had a pale scar on the back of his neck in the shape of a crescent moon. I wondered how he got it. I wanted to trace my finger over it.
“Grace! Lester!” Jane called. She waved, senselessly. “I’m saving you a spot in line.”
They both smiled and made their way toward us. As they got closer, I could see that Grace’s nose had been re-sculpted before advances in plastic surgery. It looked like someone had stuck a small pinecone where her nose used to be. The nostrils were all wrong too. She was brittle and mangled. It was hard to look at her. I shivered. Both Lester’s and Grace’s hands were gnarled and crab-like, but it was hard to tell if that was from the disease or old age or arthritis or what. They looked to be about a hundred years old.
“Grace, Lester, I want you to meet Abby. She’s a temporary resident. Abby, this is Grace.”
“Hello.” Grace extended her hand, nearly hitting me in the boob.
I grabbed her hand and shook it gently; it was as dry and papery as an onion-skin.
“And this is Lester,” Jane said.
“Tabby?” Lester thrust his strange hand toward me.
“Abby,” I said.
“Gabby?”
“ABBY!” Jane yelled in his ear.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He tapped his hearing aid. “Battery’s going on me again,” he said. “Abby, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Where are you from, Abby?” Grace asked.
“Texas,” I said.
“Oh! We just love Texans. Are you a rancher?” Lester asked.
“No,” I said, giggling. “I’m a cheerleader. Well, I was, before…”
“No kidding,” Jane said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, my. How wonderful,” Grace said.
“Can you do backflips and everything?” Jane said.
“Well, I can’t do everything, but I can do backflips, yeah.”
“Do one,” Jane said.
“Right now?”
“Right here. Right now. Show us.”
Lester nodded and Grace clapped her hands together.
“I…I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not warmed up.”
“Aw, come on,” Jane said. “Just o
ne. One measly backflip. I’ll let you have my dessert…”
“Oh yes, come on, please,” Lester said.
“But you can’t even see it,” I said.
“But I’ll know,” he said. “I’ll know you did it.”
“Come on!” Jane said.
I looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Fine.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Hold this.” I handed it to Jane.
“Yay!”
Grace squealed, clenching Lester’s arm.
There was a wide space around me with no tables and no cadets. I took a little run down the aisle and did a front flip (to warm up) and then a standing backflip. Then I raised both arms in a finishing stance, just like I would have at a real game.
The entire dining hall exploded into applause, people whistled and cheered. I took a little curtsy, scanning the crowd for my cadet. He was watching from a nearby table, a lopsided smile on his face. A warm glow swelled up in me. I made my way back to Jane. She slapped me on the back, giddy with laughter. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” she said, chuckling.
“That was really something,” Grace said.
“But you—”
“I could feel it,” she said. “In here.” She placed her gnarled hand over her heart.
After dinner, Jane and I walked Grace and Lester back to their cottage. They were all still laughing and going on about my backflip. Jane said I should audition for Cirque du Soleil.
“Yeah. Right. Because I want to spend my whole life surrounded by freaks,” I said. “That’s my idea of a good time.”
They all looked away. Well, Lester was kind of half-looking at me, but he wasn’t seeing me, obviously. I thought about saying sorry to them, but then that would be like admitting that I was calling them freaks. So I said nothing. Lester began to whistle a sad little tune. We walked on as the light faded, the pecan trees casting long shadows over the grass.
“Well, this is our stop,” Lester said as his cane slapped against the wooden gate in front of their place. Jane and I said good night to them and went back to our apartment building.
“Want to come in for a tea or something?” Jane asked.
I yawned. “I’m actually pretty tired. I might just crash.”
She nodded. “You’ve had a big day.”
“Yeah.”
Confessions of a Teenage Leper Page 10