In the Unlikely Event (35 page)

The famous doctor cleared his throat. It sounded like he had
phlegm. Robo’s father had phlegm. When he drove he often rolled down the window and spit it out. Natalie hated when he did that. She had to look away to stop herself from gagging. She thought she might gag here, in this dark, faded room.

“You can talk,” the famous doctor said. “No one can hear you.”

You can hear me
, she thought. But she didn’t say it aloud. Instead she said, “I don’t want to talk.”

“Ah…you don’t want to talk and you don’t want to eat.”

“I want to eat but I can’t. I have a disease.”

“Not a disease. A condition.”

“Did my parents tell you that?”

He shrugged. “We both want to help you get well. The parents and the doctor. Do you want to get well?”

That was a stupid question, a trick question, and she wasn’t going to answer it.

“What would you like to talk about?” he asked.

“My hair. It’s falling out.”

“Do you pull it out?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“Just now,” he said, “you pulled out a clump.”

She looked down and saw a golden-blond clump in her hand. How did it get there? She didn’t remember pulling it out. She needed to ask Ruby about this. Ruby would tell her what to do. But lately, she felt Ruby had other things, other people on her mind. Natalie wanted to cry, roll herself into a ball and let the tears come. But she was not going to cry in front of this old man, in this old room, which smelled as musty as he did.

She wished she could twirl. Twirl and twirl until she was so dizzy she’d collapse on the floor. She’d like to slap her taps on the wood floor under the rugs, making more noise than this old doctor had ever heard. She couldn’t believe her parents had brought her here. He was like a relic from the olden days. Something right out of a movie.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “What do you think?”

“I don’t have to think—I know the answer. I’m here because my parents brought me.”

“Why do you think they brought you?”

“To see you, obviously.”

He ignored her sarcasm, not a good sign. “But why to see me?”

“Because their friend who is our doctor told them to.”

“Yes, but why would he make such a suggestion?”

“Because you’re famous.”

“Ah, famous.”

“And because they don’t have any idea what’s going on.”

“And you won’t tell them.”

“That’s right. And I won’t tell you, either.”

“Of course. Why would you tell me?”

“Because you really want to know, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’d like to help you get well.”

“I’d like to get well so I can dance again. That’s what I do, you know. I dance.”

“I hear you’re a very good dancer.”

“You heard that from my parents?”

“Is it not true?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“So.” A statement, not a question.

“Sew buttons.”

“What is
sew buttons
?”

“Nothing…just an expression.”

“To dance you have to be strong,” he said.

“I was strong until I got sick. Now I just need some medicine to make me better.”

Silence.

She yawned. She was just so tired.

When he called in her parents, when they were seated side by side on the sofa, the famous doctor suggested a rest home in the country for Natalie. He knew of one, just the right place for her, in Westchester County. But her father said it would be better if she could be closer to her family. He’d made some inquiries and suggested the Watchung Hills Children’s Home, in New Jersey.

They were sending her away? She couldn’t believe her father would send her away. But she didn’t have the energy to argue. She’d
argue tomorrow or the next day. She was sure she could persuade them to wait. Especially her father.

In the car, on the way home from the famous doctor’s office, Natalie nodded off in the backseat, but she could still hear her parents talking softly about the children’s home in Watchung. And then, something about how, at the end of the school year, they would relocate as a family. Her father had been asked to open an office in Nevada in a place called Las Vegas—a place with clean air, wide-open spaces, where the girls could ride horses. “Hell,” her father said, “they can have their own horses.”

Horses…
Natalie thought. What did she care about horses? Fern was the one so obsessed with horses she wished she could
be
a horse.

“What about me?” Corinne asked. “I don’t want to ride horses. I don’t want to leave my home, my friends, a life I’ve worked so hard to create. I gave up everything to marry you, Arthur—my family, my roots, because I loved you the minute I met you—like a flash of lightning…”

The old flash-of-lightning story
, Natalie thought.

“And now you’re asking me to start all over in some strange place, surrounded by your gangster friends?” Corinne sniffled.

“It’s an opportunity, Corinne.”

“It’s not one I choose to take.”

“Suppose I say I want to do this?”

“There are many things in life we’d
like
to do, Arthur, but we don’t because we consider the needs of those we love above everything else.”

“We don’t have to sell the house right away,” her father said. “We can give it two years.”

“What about your practice here—who’s going to wait two years for their next appointment?”

“I’ve been thinking about bringing in a partner, or selling the practice. I’ve got a good offer from Myron Ludell.”

“No,” Corinne said. “It’s a commitment I’m not prepared to make.”

“And what if I say I’m going anyway?” Her father’s voice turned angry.

“Is that what you’re saying? Because if it is, you’re going alone. I’m not going to let you take the children.”

Natalie let herself doze. Dozing wasn’t exactly sleeping. Dozing meant she could come awake whenever she wanted. Dozing meant she couldn’t die.

Sometime later, after they’d come through the Lincoln Tunnel, her mother raised her voice, waking her. “It’s all your fault,” she cried, and for a minute Natalie thought Corinne was blaming her. “You and your crazy ideas. Las Vegas—some hick town in the desert. How many Jews are there in Las Vegas?”

“There will be more and more Jews,” her father told her mother.

“Gangster Jews.”

“Doctors, lawyers, accountants, businessmen. They’re already constructing a medical arts center. It will be finished by the end of the school year. I’ll have a beautiful office with the latest equipment, and plenty of patients to pay the bills. Daisy is willing to come.”

“Daisy!” her mother said. “You’ve already talked to Daisy? Daisy before me? Well, that proves it. I’ve always suspected but until now I wasn’t sure. You and Daisy—”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it,” her father said, his voice rising.

“Is it?”

The car swerved.

“Arthur!” Corinne shouted.

Had they forgotten Natalie was in the backseat?

Her father pulled off the road onto the shoulder, got out and slammed the door. He paced up and down, lighting a cigarette.

Her mother cried softly, then blew her nose. Natalie thought it best to keep quiet.

When her father returned to the car, he said, “I know this is the right thing to do for Natalie. Get her mind off…get her out in the fresh air.”

“And what about her dancing?”

“There will be classes there.”

“How do you know?”

“Entertainers have classes. And since when do we want to encourage
her to pursue this cockamamie idea she has of becoming the next Ruby Keeler?”

Natalie held her breath when he said “Ruby”—
how did he know? How could he possibly know?
—but when he said “Keeler,” Natalie understood he had no idea about
her
Ruby.

“We have to save her, Corinne.”

“If we can’t save her here, how can we save her there?”

“We have to try. I’m begging you to reconsider.”

“And I’m begging you to forget this crazy idea. Who’s behind it—Longy? And when it fails—and you come home
begging
for forgiveness—and there’s nothing left of your practice or our marriage, then what? How will we live? How will we pay for treatment for Natalie, send Steve to college and Fern to Vail-Deane? You expect my family to support us? You’ve always resented my family money but now, all of a sudden, it smells clean to you? You’re a fool, Arthur. I never thought I’d say that but it’s the truth.”

“I don’t think you understand, Corinne. Natalie is very sick. If we don’t do something we could lose her.”

Corinne breathed in, teared up, waved a hand at her husband. “Don’t ever say that again! There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just sensitive. It’s all been too hard on her. That’s why she stopped eating.”

“And I’m saying get her out of here so she doesn’t have to worry about planes crashing into houses, into schools, so she doesn’t have to think about death and dying.”

Natalie slumped to the floor of the car, her hands over her ears.

Elizabeth Daily Post

FATHER OF ELIZABETH CRASH VICTIM SUES FOR $250,000

FEB. 18—Thomas Granik of Sunnyside, L.I., filed suit today in Federal Court against Miami Airlines, Inc., for the death of his daughter, Ruby. She was a passenger in the airplane that crashed on Dec. 16 in Elizabeth. Mr. Granik said that the 22-year-old woman, a nightclub dancer, was the sole support of his family.

25

Miri

At school the following Monday, as Eleanor and Miri walked to English class together, Eleanor asked, “Are you still best friends with Natalie?”

Miri hesitated. “Yes,” she said, but the truth was, she wasn’t sure.

“Why was she absent all last week and again today?”

“I don’t know. When I saw her last Sunday she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“No.”

“Her parents?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve called a bunch of times but there’s never any answer.” She
didn’t say she’d talked to Steve or that she hadn’t believed a word of what he’d said.

“I don’t like the way this sounds,” Eleanor said. “Why don’t we just go over, ring the bell and ask what’s going on?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea. I think if they wanted us to know, they’d tell us.”

She could see Eleanor digesting that. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, we’ve got a paper to put to bed.”

Miri said, “I meant to tell you, I wrote a feature story.” She hadn’t planned to say anything about the story she’d started on the night of the meeting at City Hall.

“What’s it about?”

“The situation.”

“You mean
the situation
?”

“Yes, that. Not about Natalie.”

“When can I see it?”

“I’ll clean it up tonight and bring it in tomorrow.”

“Good. We could use an interesting story about the situation.”

—

THAT NIGHT
Miri took the story she’d written from her desk drawer. Her own indignation spilled out as she quickly made changes, adding the latest crash to the story. She copied it over in ink. Then she took a bath, using Rusty’s citrus bath salts. She slept well for the first time in a long time.

The next morning she handed the story to Eleanor. When they met in the cafeteria at lunchtime Eleanor said, “I like it. It makes you think. We can get it into the spring issue if we hurry. I’ll run it by Tiny this afternoon.”

Later, Tiny took Miri aside in homeroom. “Good story, Miri,” she said. “Provocative.”

“Thank you,” Miri said. She wasn’t sure
provocative
was a compliment but
good story
was.

“I’ll have to show it to Mr. Royer.”

“Mr. Royer…why?”

“As principal he has a veto over controversial stories.”

“You think my story is controversial?”

Tiny smiled. “Don’t you?” She didn’t wait for Miri to answer. “But I’m on your side, so stop worrying.”

Until then she hadn’t been worrying.

—

ON WEDNESDAY
, Tiny reported to Miri that after reading her story Mr. Royer said they couldn’t run it in
Hamilton Headlines
.

Miri was speechless.

“He doesn’t think it’s appropriate. It could be seen as inflammatory.”

When Miri still didn’t respond, Tiny said, “I’m so sorry, Miri. I tried to explain but he was adamant. No stories about the crashes.”

“That’s crazy!” Miri said, finding her voice. “All the kids are talking about it. He can’t pretend those airplanes didn’t crash.”

“I think he’s concerned about how the parents might react.”

“The parents? They don’t read our paper.”

“All it takes is one parent to start an uproar.”

“Does that mean we’re not supposed to have opinions?”

“I understand what you’re saying and I agree with you. But I can’t risk my job.”

“Your job?”

“Yes. That’s how it works. I’m a teacher. Mr. Royer is my boss.”

“Then who stands up for us, the students?”

Tiny shook her head. “Welcome to the real world.”