All These Things I've Done (4 page)

It was all I could manage not to throw the macaroni against the wall. Still, I knew it was no good getting mad at my brother. Not to mention, it seemed excessive to commit two violent acts with pasta on the same day. ‘Why would you want to do that? You love working at the clinic.’

‘Yeah, but Jacks thought it might be good if I worked with the family’ – he paused – ‘like Daddy.’

I nodded tightly. ‘I don’t know about that, Leo. They don’t have animals to pet at the Pool. Now, go get Natty, OK?’

I watched my brother as he left the kitchen. To look at him, you wouldn’t know anything was wrong with him. And maybe we made too much of his handicaps. It couldn’t be denied that Leo was handsome, strong and, to all intents and purposes, a grown-up. The last part terrified me, of course. Grown-ups could get themselves in trouble. They could get taken advantage of. They could get sent to Rikers Island, or worse: they could end up dead.

As I filled glasses with water, I wondered what my
padonki
half-cousin was up to and how much of a problem this was going to be for me.

I I.
i am punished; define
recidivism
; tend to family matters

T
HE WORST PART OF LUNCH
duty was the smock. It was red and tent-like and made me look fat and had a dry-erase sign Velcroed to the back that read
ANYA BALANCHINE MUST LEARN TO CONTROL HER TEMPER.
At first, you couldn’t see the sign because of my hair, but then they made me wear a hairnet. I didn’t protest. The ensemble would have seemed incomplete without the hairnet.

While I collected my classmates’ trays and glasses, Scarlet kept shooting me sympathetic looks which almost made the whole thing worse. I would rather have just served my time in a completely zoned-out state.

For obvious reasons, I saved Gable Arsley’s table for last.

‘I can’t believe I ever went out with that,’ he said in a low voice that was still loud enough for me to hear.

Though several replies did occur to me, I smiled and said nothing. You weren’t supposed to talk when you had lunch duty.

I pushed the cart with the trays to the kitchen, then I went back out to eat my own lunch in the two minutes I had left. Scarlet had moved and was now sitting with Win. She was leaning towards him across the table, and laughing at something he said. Poor Scarlet. Her flirting technique could hardly be called subtle, and I had a sense that this approach wouldn’t work with Win.

I didn’t really want to sit down with them. I smelt like cafeteria fumes and garbage. Scarlet beckoned to me. ‘Annie! Over here!’

I trudged across to her.

‘Love the hairnet!’ Scarlet said.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I was considering wearing it full-time. The smock, too.’ I set down my tray and put my hands on my hips. ‘Probably needs a belt, though.’ I took off the smock and set it on the bench next to me.

‘Anya, have you met Win?’ Scarlet asked. She slightly raised her eyebrow to let me know that he was the one she’d been telling me about.

‘In the principal’s office. She was busy getting herself in trouble,’ Win said.

‘Story of my life,’ I said. I started eating the vegetable potpie in what I hoped was a somewhat ladylike fashion. Even though I was sick of smelling the stuff, I was still famished.

As the bell rang, Win and Scarlet left, and I concentrated on speed-eating. I noticed that Win had forgotten his hat.

Just as the second bell rang, Win returned to the cafeteria.

I held out the hat to him.

‘Thanks,’ he said. He was about to leave but then he sat down on the chair across from me. ‘Felt rude to leave you here all alone.’

‘It’s fine. You’re late.’ I took one last forkful. ‘Besides, I like my own company.’

He crossed his hands over his knee. ‘I’ve got independent study this period anyway.’

I looked at him. ‘Suit yourself.’ Scarlet was into him and there was no way I would ever go for a guy she was into, no matter how nice his hands were. If there was one thing my dad had taught me, it was the importance of loyalty. ‘How do you know Scarlet?’

‘French,’ he said, and he left it at that.

‘Well, I’m done now,’ I informed him. It was high time for Win to be on his way.

‘You forgot something,’ he said. He removed the hairnet from my hair, his thumb gently grazing my forehead, and my curls spilt out. ‘The hairnet’s nice and all, but I think I prefer you without it.’

‘Oh,’ I said. I felt myself blush and so I ordered myself to stop blushing. This flirtation was starting to annoy me. ‘Why did you move here anyway?’

‘My dad’s the new number two in the DA’s office.’ It was well known that DA Silverstein was basically a puppet – too old and ailing to be effective. Being the second-in-command was actually like being the first-in-command but without the annoyance of having to run in an election. Things must have been pretty bad for them to have brought in someone from Albany. An outside hire implied a major regime change. In my opinion, that could only be a good thing, as the city couldn’t get much worse. I didn’t remember exactly what had happened to the old number two, but it was probably the usual: he’d been incompetent or a thief. Possibly incompetent
and
a thief.

‘Your dad’s the new top cop?’

‘He thinks he’s gonna clean everything up,’ Win said.

‘Good luck to him,’ I said.

‘Yeah, he’s probably pretty naive.’ Win shrugged. ‘Calls himself an idealist, though.’

‘Hey! I thought you said your people were farmers,’ I said.

‘My mother is. She’s an agricultural engineer specializing in irrigation systems. Basically a magician who grows crops without water. My father used to be the Albany DA, though.’

‘That’s . . . You lied!’

‘No, I only mentioned what was relevant to your question, which, if you recall, was how did I get my calluses? And I certainly did not get my calluses because my dad’s the DA.’

‘I think you didn’t say anything because you knew who my father was, and . . .’

‘And?’ Win prompted me.

‘And maybe you thought I wouldn’t want to make friends with a guy whose family is on the opposite side of the law from my family.’

‘Star-crossed lovers and all of that—’

‘Hold on, I didn’t say—’

‘I take it back. And I apologize if I misled you in any way.’ Win looked a bit amused with me. ‘That’s certainly a good theory, Anya.’

I told Win I had to get to class, which, in point of fact, I did. I was already five minutes late for Twentieth-Century American History.

‘See you around,’ he said as he tipped his hat.

On the board, Mr Beery had written
Those who don
’
t remember history are doomed to repeat it.
I wasn’t sure if this was meant to be inspirational, thematic, or a joke about making sure to study.

‘Anya Balanchine,’ Mr Beery said. ‘Nice of you to join us.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Beery. I had lunch duty.’

‘Thus, Ms Balanchine provides us with a walking example of the societal problems of crime, punishment and recidivism. If you can tell me why this is so, I won’t send you back to the principal’s office for a late pass.’

I’d only had Mr Beery for one day so I couldn’t completely tell if he was serious or not.

‘Ms Balanchine. We’re waiting.’

I tried not to sneer when I answered, ‘The criminal is punished for his or her crimes, but the punishment itself leads to more crimes. I was punished for fighting by being given lunch duty, but the lunch duty itself made me tardy.’

‘Dingdingdingdingding! Give this woman a prize,’ Mr Beery said. ‘You may take your seat, Ms Balanchine. And now, boys and girls, can anyone tell me what the Noble Experiment refers to?’

Alison Wheeler, the pretty redhead who would likely be our class’s valedictorian, raised her hand.

‘No need for any hand-raising in my classroom, Ms Wheeler. I like to think of us as being in discussion.’

‘Um, yes,’ Alison said, lowering her hand. ‘The Noble Experiment is another name for the first prohibition, which lasted from 1920 to 1933 and banned the sale and consumption of alcohol in the United States.’

‘Very good, Ms Wheeler. Any brave soul wish to hazard a guess as to why I’ve chosen to start the year with the Noble Experiment?’

I tried to ignore the fact that all my classmates were looking at me.

Finally, Chai Pinter, the class gossip, offered, ‘Because of, maybe, how chocolate and caffeine are today?’

‘Dingdingdingdingding! You aren’t quite as dull a lot as you look,’ Mr Beery proclaimed. For the rest of the period, he lectured about Prohibition. How temperance people believed that banning alcohol would magically solve everything that was wrong with society: poverty, violence, crime, etc. And how the temperance movement succeeded, in the short run at least, because it allied itself with other more powerful movements, many of which didn’t care about alcohol one way or the other. Alcohol had been a pawn.

I wasn’t an expert on the chocolate ban as it had happened before I was born, but there were definite similarities. Daddy had always told me that there was nothing inherently evil about chocolate, that it had gotten caught up in a larger whirlwind involving food, drugs, health and money. Our country had only chosen chocolate because the people in power needed to pick something, and chocolate was what they could live without. Daddy once said, ‘Every generation spins the wheel, Anya, and where it lands defines “the good”. Funny thing is, they never know that they’re spinning it, and it hits something different every time.’

I was still thinking about Daddy when I became aware of Mr Beery calling my name. ‘Ms Balanchine, care to weigh in on the reason the Noble Experiment ultimately failed?’

I narrowed my eyes. ‘Why are you asking me specifically?’ I would make him say it.

‘Only because I haven’t heard from you in a while,’ Mr Beery lied.

‘Because people liked their liquor,’ I said stupidly.

‘That’s true, Ms Balanchine. A bit more, though. Something from your personal experience perhaps.’

I was starting to loathe this man. ‘Because banning anything leads to organized crime. People will always find a way to get what they want, and there will always be criminals willing to provide it.’

The bell rang. I was glad to be out of there.

‘Ms Balanchine,’ Mr Beery called to me. ‘Stay a moment. I’m worried we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here.’

I could have pretended I hadn’t heard him, I suppose, but I didn’t. ‘I can’t. I’ll be late for my next class, and you know what they say about recidivists.’

‘I’m thinking of asking Win to come out with us this Friday,’ Scarlet said on the bus ride back from school.

‘Ooh, Win,’ Natty said. ‘I like him.’

‘That’s because you have excellent taste, Natty darling,’ Scarlet said, kissing Natty on the cheek.

I rolled my eyes at both of them. ‘If you like him so much, you should ask him out by yourself,’ I told Scarlet. ‘Why do you need me to come with you? I’ll only be a third wheel.’

‘Annie,’ Scarlet whined, ‘don’t be dense. If it’s just me and him, I’ll be the weird girl who asked him out. If you’re there, it’s more casual and friendly.’ Scarlet turned towards my sister. ‘Natty agrees with me, right?’

Natty paused to give me a look before nodding. ‘Once everything is going well, you two should have a signal that means it’s time for Annie to leave.’

‘Something like this,’ Scarlet said. She winked in a ridiculous and cartoonish way that contorted half her face.

‘Really subtle,’ I said. ‘Win’ll never notice that.’

‘Come on, Annie! I have to stake my claim before someone else does. You have to admit that he’s completely perfect for me.’

‘Based on what?’ I asked. ‘You barely even know him.’

‘Based on . . . Based on . . . We both like hats!’

‘And he’s pretty,’ Natty added.

‘He
is
pretty,’ Scarlet said. ‘I swear, Annie, I will never ask you for anything ever again.’

‘Oh, all right,’ I grumbled.

Scarlet kissed me. ‘I love you, Annie! I was thinking we’d go to that speakeasy your cousin Fats runs.’

‘Yeah, that might not be such a great idea, Scar.’

‘Why not?’

‘Haven’t you heard? Mr Completely Perfect’s dad is the new top cop.’

Scarlet’s eyes grew wide. ‘Seriously?’

I nodded.

‘I guess we’ll have to pick somewhere legal, then,’ Scarlet said. ‘That pretty much eliminates just about everything fun.’

The bus stopped on Fifth and the three of us walked the remaining six blocks to my apartment. Scarlet was coming over to study, as she often did.

We entered the building and walked past the empty doorman cubicle (after the last doorman had been killed and his family had sued, the apartment board decided that they couldn’t afford to pay a doorman any more) and we rode the elevator up to the penthouse.

Scarlet and Natty went into my bedroom while I checked on Nana.

Imogen, Nana’s nurse, was reading to her. ‘
To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I record that I was born (as I have been informed and believe) on a Friday, at twelve o
’
clock at night. It was remarked that the clock began to strike, and I began to cry, simultaneously
.’

Even though I wasn’t much of a reader, Imogen had a sweet voice that lulled me, and I found myself standing at the door to listen for a while. She read until the end of the chapter (which wasn’t very long), then closed the book.

‘You’re here for the start of this one,’ Imogen said to me. She held up the paper novel so that I could see the title:
David Copperfield.

‘Anyaschka, when did you get here?’ Nana asked. I walked over to her and kissed her cheek. ‘I wanted something with more action,’ Nana said, wrinkling her nose. ‘Girls, guns. But this was what she had.’

‘It gets more exciting,’ Imogen assured her. ‘You must be patient, Galina.’

‘If it takes too long, I’ll be dead,’ Nana replied.

‘Enough with the gallows humour,’ Imogen reprimanded.

I took the book from Imogen and held it up to my face. The dust stung my nose. The aroma was salty and a bit sour. The cover of the book was disintegrating. There hadn’t been new books printed (on account of the cost of paper) for as long as I had been alive, maybe longer. Nana once told me that when she was a girl there used to be huge stores filled with paper books. ‘Not that I ever went to any bookstores. I had better things to do,’ she’d say with longing in her voice. ‘Ah, to be young!’ These days, most everything was digitized. All the paper books had been pulped and recycled into essentials like toilet tissue and money. If your family (or school) happened to be in possession of a bona fide paper book, you held on to it. (By the way, one of the goods the Balanchine
semya
dealt in was black-market paper.)