Love, Jacaranda
Page 20
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 16, 9:14 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Brooke
Dear Mr. Smith,
Man, is she mad! I didn’t see Brooke before lunch, but I know she saw me in the cafeteria. Still, when I walked into drama class, she pretended to be shocked, exclaiming, “Oh my GOD! How can she even GO here after all the lies she’s told!” I heard her whispering that her parents were going to complain to the school.
Can you imagine having parents who would complain if you didn’t get your way? I don’t think I’d want that.
I don’t even care. In class, we’re working on scenes now. Phoebe and I are doing one from the play version of Pride and Prejudice, a scene between the snotty Lady Catherine de Bourgh (Phoebe) and the plucky Lizzy Bennet (me—perfect casting, right?). Mr. Adams asked if anyone wanted to perform today, and I threw my hand up with the wild enthusiasm of a 7-year-old who knows a spelling word.
“Really?” Phoebe side-eyed me.
“I need a win,” I said.
She shrugged and stood up when Mr. Adams said we could go.
To be clear, this is a great scene for Phoebe. The character is exactly Phoebe in 40 years. She’s a Snooty McSnootface old lady who has come to tell Lizzy not to marry her nephew, Mr. Darcy. She says awful things like, “Are you to pollute the shades of Pemberley?” and talks about how low class Lizzy’s family is.
In the end, Lizzy says, “You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg you to leave.” When Keira Knightley played the part in the movie, she spoke so softly and politely. Instead, I pretended Phoebe was Brooke and put some venom behind it.
Owen whooped and said, “Go, girl!”
Finally, Lady Catherine flounces off, saying, “I am most seriously displeased.”
My friends burst into applause.
“That was excellent, girls.” Mr. Adams looked at me. “What were you thinking about?”
I said, “Um, Lady Catherine’s actually doing Lizzy a huge favor because Lizzy thinks Mr. Darcy doesn’t love her anymore. But when Lady Catherine comes, she realizes he does. So she’s angry at Lady Catherine, but also excited. She’s trying to stay in control.”
“Very good,” Mr. Adams said. “And you, Phoebe? What were you thinking?”
Phoebe glanced at Brooke, looking down her perfect nose at Brooke like she was a piece of poop on the floor. “Some people think they’re classy when they’re actually pathetic and people are laughing at them.”
Mr. Adams nodded. “That is a perfect characterization of Lady Catherine. Brava.”
In other news, Harry gave the first week of my part to the freshman who was playing Snow White and then moved another freshman up to her part. Poetic justice.
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 17, 5:17 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Some good news
Dear Mr. Smith,
Today, when I came back to my dorm before rehearsal, there was a little note on my door, saying I had a phone message.
This was strange. No one calls me. Who would call me at school? Still I went down to talk to Angie. She seemed very excited.
“An agent!” she said. “From New York City!”
I thought it must be a prank. But the name of the agency was one even I had heard. I dialed the number Angie gave me. I asked to speak to Debbie Bloom.
“I don’t want to sell my story or anything,” I told her when she asked if I had representation. I figured that had to be it, that people wanted dirt on me and Jarvis. I mean, that was the whole reason this video had gone viral, because Jarvis was in it.
“Oh, honey, no.” The woman had a soft voice with an accent similar to Daisy’s mom’s. “I totally understand that.”
“Okay, then,” I said, getting ready to hang up.
“I mean, I could definitely get you that, if you wanted,” she said. “But you’re right, it wouldn’t be the best for your career.”
“Career?” I asked.
“You’re very talented,” she said. “And you’ve had this exposure, for better or worse. So I’m just saying it might be best to strike while the iron’s hot.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but she explained that she represented actors for print and television. She said I was too short for modeling, but I had a good look, and she could find commercial work for me, and maybe more.
“I’m still in school,” I told her. “In Michigan.”
She brushed this aside and asked if I could put together a demo reel. I had already recorded myself singing and doing monologues, for summer program auditions. I said I could. I think I’ll add some of the newer pieces I’ve been working on. I said I’d send it to her next week.
So, in short, I HAVE AN AGENT!
And all I had to do to get one was be completely humiliated in front of the entire world.
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 19, 8:23 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Stay with me
Dear Mr. Smith,
I got to play the Witch at rehearsal today since Ava had her last audition, at FSU. I told her to say hi to Florida for me.
We did the second act, so I got to sing “Witch’s Lament.” The part about how children grow “from something you love to something you lose” gave me chills.
It made me think of my mother. Oscar and the criminal justice system took me away from her, and it wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve it.
I had to turn away and swipe at my eyes, so I wouldn’t get yelled at for crying.
I wonder if she knows what happened. Can they get news from the outside world? What does she think of me?
After rehearsal, Harry came up to me.
“That was spectacular,” he said. “And I have had the privilege of seeing Ms. Bernadette Peters in the role.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for what you said Tuesday.”
“Nothing but the truth,” he said.
I said I’d try to be worthy of his praise.
Then I went back to my room and cried until the salty tears rolled into my mouth.
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 21, 9:18 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: My mother
Dear Mr. Smith,
I want to talk to my mother. Last time I talked to her was back when I was still with Aunt April. Inmates can make collect calls, and sometimes she did. But none of my foster families wanted that, so I haven’t talked to her in years.
Now, I have money (thank you), and I looked up how to get a call from her prison. I sent her my number months ago, to put on her approved list, but since it’s a cell phone, she can’t call collect. I have to arrange to prepay it. The website said I could get a 15-minute call for $6! I set up an account, and I sent the info to my mother, telling her to call me at night or on a weekend if possible.
I want to tell her everything that’s happening in my life, all the good and bad. I want to tell her about Jarvis.
No. I want to tell her about this place and the snow and the cherry trees and all my friends. Especially about singing and how it makes me feel to perform.
What I worry about, though, is maybe if I hear her voice, I’ll miss her so much that I’ll want to be with her all the time. Over the years, I’ve hardened myself to not having a mom.
Maybe I’ll find out I need my mom more than I need to be here.
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 24, 7:47 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Spring break
Dear Mr. Smith,
I hope it’s okay that I’ve accepted an invitation to go to Daisy’s family’s vacation home in Stowe for spring break. She invited both Phoebe and me.
Going will make me less sad about not being able to go to New Yor
k and see Jarvis. At least, I hope it will. I know you gave me the airline gift card, but I still need Vanessa to sign me out. I’ll write to her too.
Also, I sent Debbie my new and improved demo, so she can add me to her website. I’ve been working on it, in all this free time I have between school and rehearsals.
With Fingers Crossed, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 26, 3:47 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: MORE EXCITING NEWS!
Dear Mr. Smith,
I got into a summer program—the New England one! They offered me a scholarship to cover tuition, but I’d have to pay room and board. I’m still waiting to hear from the others, but they want me! They want me!
Of course, the first person I wanted to tell was Jarvis. He was there for all my audition stress. Now, I can’t tell him the good news!
I miss him. And miss him. And miss him.
But I’m glad I can tell you and know you’ll be happy for me!
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 27, 7:31 a.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Thank you
Dear Mr. Smith,
Thank you for your offer to pay my room and board for the summer program. Let’s see what other offers I get, but I’ll keep it in mind. It seems awfully expensive to me, and I hate to ask. I’m not used to asking for anything, really. Maybe it would be better if I worked over the summer, if I can’t get a full scholarship.
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: February 28, 4:58 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Sledding
Dear Mr. Smith,
Today, Phoebe invited Daisy and me to go sledding. I guess Jarvis saw her the day it all happened. That’s when he told her that lie about knowing about my mother beforehand. And he left Phoebe the sled he bought. She’s had it stuffed under her bed the past 2 weeks.
It’s been 2 weeks since I heard Jarvis’s voice . . .
I told her that I didn’t want to go, but Phoebe wouldn’t take no for an answer.
There’s a little hilly area near the school, and we set out for it. As we were heading out the door, three of us with a giant sled, Falcon ran up to us.
“Is that a sled?”
When we invited her to come, she said, “Omigod! I’ve never sledded in my life! I feel like it’s important to my development as an artist to experience motion!”
Because she says things like that.
Falcon brought her sketch pad along to draw us, in case it inspired another art installation. She finished Crust of Humility. It’s on display in the school’s art gallery. The local paper even did an article about it.
It was a trek to the hill, and when we got there, it wasn’t as high or pretty as the one with Jarvis. But maybe that was better. It wasn’t like Phoebe or Daisy or Falcon was going to wrap her arms around me. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go.
Daisy showed Falcon how to mount the sled and push off. When they’d gone, Phoebe said, “Wow, and people say I’m grumpy. You look miserable.”
I faked a smile. “Sorry. I was just thinking . . .”
I was thinking I hadn’t even TEXTED Jarvis in 2 weeks.
Phoebe seemed to read my thoughts. She said, “You know you’ve wrecked my cousin, right? He told some reporter that you guys broke up, and they should leave you alone. Jarvis never talks to reporters. He’s totally blaming himself for all this.”
I said he’d get over it. I didn’t mean it to be harsh, but it came out that way.
“Why would he? You haven’t, and you’re the one who did the leaving.”
“It’s too complicated,” I said. “He’s, like, a celebrity, and I’m . . .”
“You’re WHAT?” she snapped. “You’re someone who’s had some hard breaks. That’s what Jarvis says anyway. He DOESN’T MIND. It’s like he thinks you’re too good for him, almost, because of what you’ve been through. He’s completely in love with you.”
I remembered what Jarvis said that day over break, about my hard childhood making me a better person. But I didn’t want my life to be something someone doesn’t mind, a flaw to be overlooked. “Can we talk about something else?” I asked her.
Phoebe nodded. “But I want to say one more thing. Jarvis is coming to see me in the play next month. But he’s not coming to see me. He never came to anything of mine, and now he’s come to two shows this year. That’s because of you. Because he loves you.”
Something about the way she said it made me hug her. She had to yell “STOP,” and shook me off.
We spent the rest of the afternoon sledding and admiring the sketches Falcon did of the kids on the hill. She said she was thinking about doing a new project about middle-class children doing normal childhood American things and calling it The Haves.
I wonder if Phoebe was right.
I remembered what Jarvis said. “If everyone likes you, it’s because no one really knows you.” He felt like I was the only one who knew him.
Maybe when two people are exactly in accord, always happy when together and lonely when apart, they shouldn’t let anything in the world stand between them. I wish I could believe that. But maybe you know better. You probably belong to a rich, important family like Jarvis’s, so maybe you can be more objective.
He’ll be here in a month, whether I like it or not.
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: March 6, 5:18 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: My mother
Dear Mr. Smith,
She called me. She’s tried a couple other times, but I was always in class or rehearsal. But this time, I spoke with her for 15 minutes for the first time in over 5 years.
As predicted, I cried. I tried not to because we had such a short time, but I couldn’t stop. And then, when I finally stopped crying and started talking, she started crying.
When we had finally both calmed down, she said she missed me so much. She saw my picture I sent. She said I was so grown-up and she wouldn’t recognize me if she saw me. She blamed her sister, my aunt April, for not keeping me with her. That’s why I was in @#$# Michigan right now.
I have nothing nice to say about my aunt April, but I told her I love Michigan, and I’m learning to sing.
“Are you good at singing, Randa?” she asked. Randa was her nickname for me when I was little. I’d forgotten. No one has called me that in so long.
“My teachers think so. I have a part in the school play.” I wanted to tell her about Harry and all the nice things he said about me, but I knew there wasn’t time to explain all of it.
“I wish I could see it,” she said.
“I wish that too,” I told her.
My watch said our time was almost up, so I said, “Mommy, I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too, Randa,” she said.
I continued, “I miss you, but you should be happy that I’m learning a lot, and maybe someday soon, you can hear me sing.”
She said she’d like that. And then, our time was really up. I told her I’d pay so she could call me again.
When I hung up, I lay on my bed a long time, staring and wondering what she was doing.
I wonder if she wonders about me too.
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: March 9, 4:36 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Guess who got into two more summer programs?
You guessed it!
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: March 13, 4:37 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: The word is out
Dear Mr. Smith,
The whole junior class is buzzing about summer program acceptances. I guess this summer, between junior and senior year, is the most important because it’s the last thing before college auditions next year. Phoebe got into the New England program and the Boston Conservatory musical theater dance program. She’s wait
ing for a couple of others. David has gotten in everywhere he tried. It’s nice to be a guy, since they are scarcer in musical theater, but he’s also super talented!
The good thing now is that people are talking about the girl who got into three summer programs instead of the girl whose mother is in jail.
Even the lady dishing out scrambled eggs congratulated me on my big news.
“Thanks. Does that mean you’re going to make me some celebration grits?” They’re the only food I miss from my past life.
She wrinkled her brow and said maybe I could teach her. I plan to.
I love this place, and I love you for sending me!
Love, Jacaranda
To: Johnsmith247@dll.com
Date: March 21, 10:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
Subject: Me on skis
Dear Mr. Smith,
Here’s a photo Danny took of me in my ski outfit, which Daisy loaned me because she has 5. This is a beautiful town, with red brick houses and tall-steepled churches. If you haven’t been to Vermont, Mr. Smith, I recommend it.
Today was my first day of “ski school.” I’m the only one here who isn’t 6 years old. Floridian problems.
After my lesson, Danny volunteered to stay with me on the “bunny slope,” a tiny hill for children, so the others could go on harder runs. Danny was very patient. I told him he didn’t have to stay with me if he didn’t want to.
“I don’t mind.” He said he’d like to go to college somewhere near a ski area, maybe University of Denver or University of Utah (which also has a football team), and be an instructor someday like his dad was. He says by tomorrow, I should be able to go on a longer green trail, and by the end of the week, I’ll be on the gondola.
I didn’t think so. The gondola is the enclosed lift that goes to the higher parts of the mountain (you probably know this).
“When I was little,” he said, “our mom didn’t realize that one of the easier trails used it. She thought it was only the hard trails. So one day, my dad went on it with us. He took our picture and sent it to her. She was all shocked, saying, ‘My babies!’ It was funny.”