by Nora Olsen
“I think it’s sad,” Jenna said.
“Yeah,” I said, sighing.
“Do you think he’s going to be different now?” Jenna asked. “I don’t mean different-can’t-walk. I mean different like not such a miserable drug fiend.”
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Is this what you do at GSA, just sit around and talk?”
“So far.”
We were silent for a long time.
“This no negativity rule makes it impossible to say anything,” Jenna complained.
I laughed. It didn’t escape my notice that Jenna avoided all the really touchy topics, like Lexie and Sassy and my house. It seemed like she really was trying to be nice and make up with me. But she only knew how to say mean things or say nothing. Why was it so hard for Jenna to say nice things?
I decided that she couldn’t really be shallow and mean even if it seemed that way. I mean, who’s really like that, on the inside? All these years when we had been talking about nothing but horses, other riders, makeup, and clothes, I was secretly thinking about a lot of other things. Surely she must have been too. If she really wanted to be my friend, I was going to get to the bottom of her. I wasn’t going to trust her with anything important until I had figured her out. But it was good to have friends. I needed someone to laugh with while my life was falling into pieces. And while I had no one else.
“Okay, this seems like a pretty good club,” Jenna said, tossing her long hair and jumping up out of her seat. “Now, c’mon, let’s go. I’ll give you a ride and save you from the embarrassing cheese bus.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Lexie
I was in my room, halfheartedly editing a butterfly movie, when I got a call from an unfamiliar number.
“Hi, Lexie, it’s Desi.”
I would have recognized her voice anyway. She had that distinctive Down syndrome accent.
“Des, how’s it going?”
“Good! I have good news for you. Slobberin’ Robert is out of his coma. He woke up.”
“He did? That’s awesome.”
I had a pang, thinking about how it was Desi calling to give me this news and not Clarissa. Clarissa had put me on her restricted list on Facebook, and I couldn’t even see her posts. That was cold. Ramone and I had never put each other on our restricted lists.
“Yeah, Clarissa went to visit him over the weekend. He had just woken up. His parents were so happy,” she said.
Right, Slobberin’ Robert had parents. It was hard for me to remember that. I wondered what they were like.
“She said he was a little bit out of it,” Desi said. “But he was okay. He’s going to be in the hospital for a long time. Because his leg is still messed up.”
“Thank you for telling me this good news, Desi.”
“I’m going to visit him sometime,” Desi said. “I was scared to go when he was in a coma, but now I don’t mind going.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I said. “Maybe I’ll go visit him today.”
“Now there’s something I want to talk about,” Desi said. “It’s about my campaign to be homecoming queen.”
“Okay. What?”
“I think that since his accident, everyone really likes Slobberin’ Robert. Before the accident he said he’d help me with my campaign. But maybe he’s forgotten about it, and we need to remind him. I think if he tells people to nominate me for homecoming queen, they will, and they’ll all vote for me.”
“I don’t know if I’ll talk to him about it today if I see him,” I said. “Since he just woke up from a coma and everything, he might not be thinking about that kind of stuff yet. But if it comes up, I’ll definitely remind him.”
“Good. Because nominations are really soon,” Desi said.
“You know, though, Desi, we could do all this work and they still might not elect you,” I said. “There are a lot of girls who want to be homecoming queen.”
I could just picture the buckets of tears she would cry if she didn’t get what she wanted. Oh God, it would be awful.
“I know,” said Desi. “I’m just hopeful. If I don’t get to be queen, maybe I can still be part of the court. An attendant or something, you know? Attendants don’t get a crown, but they get flowers. As long as it’s a real position and not something they made up just for me.”
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” I said.
“But it’s my dream,” Desi said. “With all the bad stuff that has been happening, it’s nice to have something to dream about. I really want to have a crown.”
“What bad stuff?”
“You don’t know? We got locked out of our house. We stayed at a hotel. But then we broke back in. And we’re going to have to move. Maybe to Arizona to my uncle’s ostrich farm.”
“To where?” I couldn’t understand what Desi was saying.
“To Arizona to my uncle’s ostrich farm.”
“What farm?”
“Ostrich. They’re birds? But I don’t want to go. I want to stay here and graduate. This is my seventh year at Parlington. I don’t want to graduate from some other school, or not get to graduate at all.”
“When did all this happen?”
“A couple days ago. I guess Clarissa would have told you if you were still lesbian girlfriends.”
“She’s mad at me. We’re not talking to each other right now. Because my mom bought her horse.”
“Sassy.”
I was afraid Desi would be mad too. “Yeah, Sassy.”
“That’s not your fault,” Desi said. “Clarissa is not thinking straight. If you own Sassy, you would let Clarissa ride her, right?”
“Oh, totally.”
“Then she should be happy,” Desi said.
“Well, she’s not happy.”
That was for sure.
“I have to go,” Desi said. “My phone has a certain number of minutes each month, and I don’t want to go over.”
“Okay, Desi. Thanks for calling.”
I called Sharon Hospital to check on their visiting hours, and then drove over there. It was grim and cheerless like any hospital. It was hard to find out where Slobberin’ Robert was exactly. I considered just calling Clarissa and asking what room he was in, but then decided it would be an excuse. Plus she probably wouldn’t answer my call anyway.
When I finally found out where the room was, I got nervous. There’s something about visiting sick people that’s scary. I don’t know what it is. The door was closed, so I knocked. I didn’t hear anything, but I opened the door anyway. Slobberin’ Robert was in a bed right next to the door, and there was a curtain pulled between him and the other bed. His eyes were closed, and I briefly wondered if Desi had been wrong about him waking up out of his coma. His face was a mottled red and he had two black eyes. He had an IV coming out of his arm, and he was wearing an embarrassing hospital gown and a black knitted cap with the Islanders logo on it. His right foot was elevated and in a thick boot that seemed to be undulating, as though it had some kind of fluid moving around inside it. I could hear a snoring noise coming from the other side of the curtain, which I found unsettling.
“Um, are you awake?” I asked quietly.
His eyes snapped open. “Hey, Lexie. What’s up?”
“Not much. You?”
“My leg!” he said. “That’s what’s up. That’s a real knee-slapper, huh? Pull up a chair if you want to stay.”
I did. I wasn’t sure what to talk about with him.
“So, you okay?” I asked.
He made an as-you-see gesture. “They’re not sure if I’m ever going to be able to bear my full weight on my leg again. I think that means I’ll always use a crutch. They haven’t really explained. Maybe they don’t know.”
“That sucks,” I said. So much for being a soccer star. Also I wondered if they were concealing the full truth about how bad it was from him.
“Yeah.”
We sat in uneasy silence for a little while.
“I
would tell you everything that’s going on in school, but I’m sure you don’t really care,” I said.
“You got that right,” Slobberin’ Robert said.
“So. Um. In what movie is the Statue of Liberty holding the torch in the wrong hand?” I asked.
Slobberin’ Robert seemed to brighten a little. “Supergirl!”
“Correct!” I said.
“Okay, Lexie, in what movie do characters climb out of the Statue of Liberty’s nose?”
“Spaceballs.” I didn’t wait for him to say I was right because I knew I was. “In what movie does a mermaid crawl out of the water onto the Statue of Liberty’s island?”
“Too easy,” Slobberin’ Robert said. “Splash.”
Now I felt more at ease with him. He was the same Slobberin’ Robert I knew, even if he was hooked up to an IV and had a strange undulating boot.
“You want to know something weird?” Slobberin’ Robert said. “I lost a little bit of my memory in the accident. Just a matter of hours. It’s not, like, psychological or anything. It’s just because I got a head injury. But the last thing I remember is talking to you in the parking lot. You were telling me to help Desi Kirchendorfer be homecoming queen.”
“So you don’t remember the accident at all?”
“Do not remember a thing,” he confirmed.
“That must be weird,” I said.
“I can imagine what the accident must have been like,” Slobberin’ Robert said. “I can totally see what happened. Everyone must think I am a total moron.”
“Actually, everyone thinks you’re a martyr,” I said. “I think I even heard someone say hero. You’re, like, the most popular guy in school now.”
“Then they are even bigger morons than I am,” Slobberin’ Robert said. “I notice you didn’t say what you think.”
“I don’t think you’re a moron,” I said. “I think you must have been in a bad place. I guess I’m just assuming you were drunk.”
“That’s a safe assumption,” he agreed. “I think I must have almost died. You know how I know? My dad hasn’t even said one harsh word about me wrecking the car. Totally totaled Toyota.”
I knew all about how totaled the car was because they had put the car at the front of the driveway to Parlington High. And the scrolling sign that announced the temperature, the next Board of Ed meetings, and what state championships our school was in now announced Don’t Drink and Drive. Like students had just never heard that, but now that we knew, it was all good. But I didn’t want to tell him all that. I wanted to distract him from dwelling on his accident.
“Desi asked me to remind you to help her with her campaign,” I blurted out smoothly.
“I already said I would,” he said. “I told you, it’s the last thing I can remember.”
“Yeah, but now that you have a crook leg and were in a coma, your word means more.”
“What’s in it for you?” he asked. “Are you even going to the homecoming dance?”
A very shrewd question. What was in it for me?
“Not a chance,” I said.
“You don’t have a girlfriend?”
Should I tell him I dated Clarissa for like half an hour? Clarissa obviously hadn’t mentioned it. I shook my head.
“That’s too bad,” he said. “Two girls together, that’s like so hot.”
“Oh whatever, Slobbo,” I said. It was actually reassuring that he was the same idiot he always was. “Listen. It seems overobvious to say. But I’m glad you’re okay. I’m really sorry you got in that accident.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I don’t mind overobvious. I didn’t know I’d be missed.”
“In what movie does a man try to kill himself, and then an angel named Clarence shows him what the world would be like if he had never been born?”
“He doesn’t try to kill himself,” Slobberin’ Robert said.
“He does,” I said. “He jumps off a bridge.” I remembered a scene where he and the angel were drying off.
“No, he doesn’t. Not until the angel does. Watch it again. He’s just thinking about it.”
Then Slobberin’ Robert’s family burst in. His parents and two little sisters, all chattering and carrying packages and balloons and a stack of DVDs and a covered casserole dish that smelled delicious. It was cute because the little sisters looked just like Slobberin’ Robert, same dark hair and eyes. It was weird to see that a misanthrope like Slobberin’ Robert had such a normal-looking family. I couldn’t even imagine how my parents would behave if I were in a terrible accident. Would my mother come visit me in the hospital if she had to take a day off from work? I introduced myself, but the Gelisanos weren’t really that interested, and I couldn’t really blame them. I slipped away.
When I got home I watched It’s a Wonderful Life in the entertainment room, which is what a normal family would call a living room. It turned out that Slobberin’ Robert was right.
My dad came home in the middle of the movie. “Why are you watching that in September?” he asked. “That’s a Christmas movie.”
Then my mom came home. “When are you going to go meet your new horse?” she asked. “I spent good money on that animal. And it’s expensive to feed.”
I turned off the TV and went to watch the rest in my room on my computer. If my parents knew even a fraction of the things on my mind—well, they still wouldn’t care.
The next day I cornered Heather Barrington at lunch. It was hot dog day in the cafeteria again, and the smell made me gag. Anyone who doesn’t believe meat is murder just has to stand in the cafeteria and take a deep breath.
“Can I talk to you about something?” I asked, trying not to retch.
“Sure,” said Heather, giving me a big smile. She was the phoniest person I had ever met, hands down, but at least you didn’t ever have to worry about her being rude or mean. Her whole shtick was based on being nice to everyone, no matter whether she privately considered them dog turds.
“I wanted to talk to you about homecoming queen,” I said.
“Are you hoping to be nominated?” Heather Barrington asked wide-eyed. That was about the maximum mean that Heather Barrington could get. She could pretend a remark like that was sincere.
“Not me, Desi Kirchendorfer,” I said.
“Oh sure, sure,” Heather said. “Clarissa’s sister. Desi is so sweet. She’s just such an angel. What a sweet smile she has. I feel happy every time I look at her.”
How crackers was that? Desi was moderately sweet, and she had a nice smile, but it made Heather happy just to look at her? Was Desi a baby panda or something?
“Clarissa did mention to me she’s hoping people will nominate Desi,” Heather said. “Although, is Desi even a senior? Is she eligible? I know you have to have a certain GPA, and well, Desi…”
“She is eligible,” I said firmly. Clarissa and Desi had checked into this with the administration. “She has an IEP and she’s doing adapted work that may not be the same as yours, but she qualifies, and she’s graduating in June, like you.”
“How wonderful,” Heather said, beaming. “That’s so inspiring.”
“Now, Heather, I know how much you care about other people and doing the right thing.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Of all the people I know in this school, you are the most caring. And self-sacrificing.”
“Thank you,” Heather said, but a worried crease had appeared on her brow.
“I think everyone would really admire you as a person if you endorsed Desi,” I went on. “Think how brave you would be, how noble! Giving up your own crown so a less fortunate girl could have it.”
In reality, I didn’t think Desi was less fortunate, except insofar as her house was being foreclosed on. But I was happy to use Heather’s stereotypes against her. I took a very realpolitik approach to the problems of life. This was something positive I got from my mother. I had mentioned this in Mom’s essay, of course.
“Hmm,” Heather said, but she seemed unconvince
d. “You know, I’m sure it would be very rewarding for Desi to be homecoming queen. But aren’t there already programs that are rewarding for people like her, where she can feel like a winner, like Special Olympics? That she could do without interfering with high school affairs?”
Interfering, my foot, I thought. But I was hell-bent on being diplomatic. If I pointed out to her how stupid she was being, she would not do what I wanted.
“Just think how bad you would look, competitively campaigning against someone who has Down syndrome. Trying to beat her into the dust,” I said.
“Oh, but surely…” Heather trailed off, picturing it.
I decided it was time to wrap this up. “Which is more important to you, being prom queen or homecoming queen?”
Heather gave a tinkling laugh. “Of course, I’d be delighted to be chosen for either, or both, if the student body felt that way. You talk as if it’s up to me.”
“Which is more important to you, being prom queen or homecoming queen?” I repeated.
“I’d rather be prom queen, if it’s a choice between one or the other.”
“I am convinced that everyone in the school would choose you for prom queen if you support Desi for homecoming queen,” I told her. “You’d look like a martyr. And speaking of martyrs, I went to visit Slobberin’ Robert yesterday.”
“Oh, how wonderful. I’m planning to visit him myself.”
“Of course you are.” I had better seal the deal soon, or I was going to vomit all over Heather Barrington’s trendy Juicy Couture quilted satin sneakers.
“Well, guess what he told me. Apparently his last memory before the accident was saying he wanted Desi Kirchendorfer to be homecoming queen. Isn’t that just so amazeballs? And he reaffirmed that when I talked to him yesterday. He said he totally endorses Desi’s campaign, and whether or not he’s out of the hospital in time for the dance, he hopes Desi wins the crown.”
Heather looked defeated. I almost felt bad. “I’m going to think about everything you said, Lexie,” Heather said. “I’ll get back to you about this.”