Light from a Distant Star (28 page)

“There’s this one girl, she even gets the hives with hers. And Ginny from work, she gets, like, the worst diarrhea. Usually right before, though. Which is how she knows …”

Knows what, that she’d never let Ginny from work scoop an ice-cream cone for her again
, Nellie thought, staring straight ahead trying to look unfazed by the looming perils of womanhood.
Why did girls always have to talk like this? Boys didn’t. Not that she ever heard, anyway, except for that grossest thing of all, Bucky peeing on Henry. With everything else going on she’d practically forgotten about that. Where was her
Get Tough!
manual? She hadn’t seen it in a while. Too bad Dolly hadn’t known some of the holds. If only she’d shown her, it could’ve saved her life, one of the release holds anyway, the one from a stranglehold because that’s how it had happened, Des La Forges had told her mother on the phone. Dolly had been choked to death. Mr. Cooper’s hands weren’t very big, not like Max’s
.

“And I’ve got all my old bras,” Ruth was saying. “So when your—”

“You know when Dolly first came?” Nellie interrupted. “Remember that guy, her boyfriend, how big he was? Well, it was him! He’s the one that did it. I just thought of it! They’d have these, like, wicked fights. She told him not to keep coming around anymore. He was just too immature. All he wanted was … one thing.”

“What’re you talking about?” Ruth made a face.

“Sex!”

“Not really.” Ruth cringed back.

“But that’s what happened. He came back and she said no, and they had another fight, they did! So then he killed her. Her old boyfriend,” Nellie added seeing her consternation. “He’s the one!” Of course. It made such perfect sense because Max was innocent, and that way, Nellie wouldn’t have to destroy the entire Cooper family.

“But he was in Pennsylvania. He moved there. He wasn’t anywhere near here,” Ruth said.

“How do you know?”

She held her shrug. “Everyone knows.”

Everyone but her
.

L
ATER THAT SAME
night Ruth got caught sneaking in from the pool party forty-five minutes after curfew. The voices from the downstairs hallway drifted in and out of Nellie’s sleep.

“You can’t keep doing this!”

“I know! I know I’m late, but the thing is I was hoping you’d be in bed because I knew if you were still up, I was afraid I might say something because it was bothering me so much, even though I promised I wouldn’t.”

E
IGHT O’CLOCK IN
the cloying stillness of the morning, Nellie became a woman—in the hearts and minds of her family, anyway. Both her windows were propped open by old store rulers stamped
PECK HARDWARE
, each letter marking an inch. The limp curtains barely stirred. Every now and again a bird managed a listless chirp. Nellie was in bed reading
Copperspiece Tales
, the first of the three books on her required summer reading list for school. It was about an American Indian family on a reservation in New Mexico, or Native American family, as Ruth had already corrected her. The story was all right, it was just that so far that summer real life had far outpaced anything she could possibly find in a book.

With her mother’s footsteps in the hallway, she peered over the book, expecting the door to fly open as she raced in, zipping her pants or blotting her lipstick on her way to work. If Nellie wasn’t downstairs before she left, she always ran up to say good-bye and remind her of the list of chores on the kitchen table, even though they were usually the same: make beds, unload dishwasher, sweep crumbs from kitchen floor, spend time with Henry, and make sure he brushes his teeth. Henry had let the family down by being the first Peck kid to have a cavity before the age of twelve—not just one but three, and with no dental insurance, it was another financial blow. But on that morning the door creaked slowly open. Her mother closed it with another slow creak, then sat on the bed, regarding her with sadness.

“Oh, Nellie!” she gasped, and Nellie knew by the pain in her voice that Charlie had died. “My little girl,” she cried, pulling her into her arms. And then Nellie’s next thought was poor Boone. What would become of him? They’d just have to take him, that was all. Ruth could get allergy shots and her mother and Henry would get used to him after a while. She’d walk him three times a day and train him not to bark. He could sleep up here with her. But she knew enough to wait, bide her
time, let her get past the grief before she said anything. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. With everything that’s happened, everything that’s gone on, you couldn’t tell me, could you, so you just did it all yourself, you took care of it, didn’t you? Oh, my little trooper, my tough little trooper, after all you’ve been through … I just feel so awful, my baby, my little girl, that you couldn’t come to me. I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t,” she sobbed into Nellie’s hair, promising it would never happen again. Never, ever again would she be too busy or distracted, upset, or worried when Nellie needed her, which clearly was right then.

No way on earth could she admit she’d never menstruated while her mother was struggling to compose herself by inquiring after her first flow—had it been heavy or light, cramps no cramps? Did Nellie prefer pads or tampons? Pads, Nellie quickly agreed after her mother said she should probably wait to use tampons until she was a little older. Nellie didn’t ask why—and, oh God, didn’t want her telling her what Jessica already had, all about stretching and things slipping out later on. What things?
That
thing! To her mother’s last question, her next period, when was it due, Nellie gave her usual shrug-grunt. Later that afternoon after work, her mother presented her with a belated starter kit, a package of sanitary napkins and a special calendar to mark the days.

“Some girls, their skin breaks out right before. Others can tell when they get a little sensitive here.” Her mother’s hand grazed her own bosom, like Ruth’s, fuller than hers would ever be. “And sometimes you can get really irritable right before, like so emotional the least little thing and you can fly off the handle. But it doesn’t last too long, thank goodness.” Sighing, she ran her hands through Nellie’s hair. “And in the end it’s all worth it,” she said, and Nellie knew by her troubled gaze that that wasn’t true.

So from then on, in addition to a lot of other guises, she was going to have to be a pseudomenstruator, flipping out once a month like clockwork and walking around with her arm slung protectively across her tiny, tender breasts. But at least Ruth was interested in her. A few days passed without anyone wanting to discuss cycles again, but her parents were treating her differently. Her mother had grown more attentive,
watchful. Nellie would say something and her mother’s gaze would hold, alert to clues, signs. It was the way she often looked at Ruth. Her father seemed uncomfortable. Wary. His guarded eyes said it all: she’d changed. For all he knew, his little Nell might be wearing a sanitary napkin. Actually though, it was more than that. She just didn’t know it yet.

A
FEW DAYS
later Mrs. Cooper called her mother and invited Nellie over. Jessica had asked Nellie three times already and each time she’d said she couldn’t. She had to take care of Henry, the true and perfect excuse.

“Well, that’s awfully nice of you, Claudia, but you have enough of your own. You certainly don’t need two more,” her mother was saying. “Are you sure?”

Nellie couldn’t believe it. Jessica had gotten her mother to invite Henry, too.

It would be a miserable visit. Embittered by Henry’s actual presence, Jessica was as mean to him as Nellie’d ever seen her be to anyone, and that was going some. The worst came when Nellie went into the bathroom. Jessica raced downstairs where Henry was watching television. She told him they’d had a big fight and that Nellie had stormed out. He’d better hurry if he wanted to catch up to her, Jessica said, because Nellie had taken off running. Actually, she’d been reading
People
magazine, trying to kill as much time away from her as she could. Jessica knocked on the bathroom door again. “I know what you’re doing in there,” she said. “Going through the medicine cabinet. You’re stealing drugs, aren’t you?”

“Be out in a minute!” She continued reading. The latest issue and she only had a few more pages to go.

“Just don’t take the Xanax. My mother counts them.”

“Go away,” Nellie groaned, flushing the toilet to keep her at bay.

Finally, when Jessica began banging on the door, she came out. She wanted to show Nellie something in her brother’s room. Lou was a year older than Ruth and really cute. For once, Nellie would have something to report back to Ruth. But where was Henry, she asked,
following Jessica up the stairs. She wasn’t sure. Nellie said she’d better go look for him. He’s down in the kitchen, Jessica said quickly. Talking to her mother. Which sounded reasonable enough as they went along the long, yellow hallway, flanked by many cream-colored doors. Each of the Cooper kids had their own rooms. Lou’s was like a cave, dark blue with a red plaid border on the walls. Clothes were strewn everywhere. The bed had been halfheartedly made by pulling the red corduroy comforter over the rumpled sheets. Nellie was surprised. In her house making the bed was the first thing everyone did when they got up. Apparently, in this as well, Mrs. Cooper was a lot more laid back than her mother.

Jessica opened the closet and reached over the door frame for a small key. “Wait’ll you see this,” she said in her low, evil voice as she dragged out a gray metal file box from under the bed, then inserted the key. The lock clicked open. Inside were clear plastic sandwich bags filled with dried, ground-up leaves. “Pot,” she whispered, opening a bag and inhaling deeply. She held it out.

Backing away, Nellie told Jessica no. She was scared. Horrified. Drugs. She couldn’t believe this. She was in the same room with drugs.

“Lou’s a dealer. But just to his friends.” Jessica licked her finger, stuck it into the bag, then slurpily sucked off the pot. “Same as smoking it,” she said, trying not to make a face with her dry chewing. She kept working her tongue over her green-flecked teeth. “See! You get, like, whoo!” she said, waving her arms for balance.

“Jessica!” Mrs. Cooper called. “Jessica, where are you?”

With her mother’s voice nearing, Jessica stuffed the bag back into the file box, locked it, shoved it under the bed, returned the key, and was still closing the closet when Lou’s door opened.

“Jessica!” Mrs. Cooper was red faced with fury, so angry she seemed unaware of Nellie’s cringing presence. “Didn’t you hear me?” She grabbed Jessica’s arm and yanked her into the hallway. “How many times have you been told to stay out of your brothers’ and sisters’ rooms? How many times? How many?” she shrieked. Jessica’s indignant sputters only seemed to enrage her. Nellie had slipped out behind them and flattened herself against the wall, trying to be invisible because she couldn’t get past them to the stairs. She’d seen her mother
mad but never like this. Mrs. Cooper was hysterical. Forever after, when she would hear someone described as “going nuts,” this is what she would remember: Mrs. Cooper shaking Jessica and screaming into her face. “You have no respect for anyone’s privacy! Always sneaking in and out of all our rooms, it’s creepy, Jessica! It’s just … so creepy! Why do you have to act like this? Don’t you know how creepy …”—Nellie cringed, dreading having to hear her say,
how creepy you are?
—“… it is?” she said.

What was creepy was Jessica’s smirk and slitted eyes, not only unfazed by her mother’s tirade, but savoring it. Looking at Nellie now, Mrs. Cooper said she was sorry that she’d been involved in this, and maybe she should go home now.
Maybe?
All she wanted was to find Henry and get out of there. Out of this crazy drug den.

That’s when Jessica snapped. “No! No!” she screeched, reaching out—as if for protection from this dangerous mother.

There was a thud then as her mother pinned her against the wall. “Stop it!” Mrs. Cooper hissed. “You just stop it!” Mrs. Cooper was taller, but Jessica was heavier.

“That’s not fair! Don’t make her go! Nellie!” she bawled, grabbing for Nellie as she tried to edge by. “Nellie! Nellie!”

Nellie felt terrible, not only for being part of this craziness but guilty as well. Once again she hadn’t been tough enough. If she’d just avoided her the way everyone else did, none of this would be happening.

“Let her stay! That’s not fair!” she screamed and charged, fists flying, punching her mother’s chest.

Nellie froze, not knowing what to do, throw a hold on her to help Mrs. Cooper or to run.

“Stop it! You just stop it, right now!” Mrs. Cooper gasped, struggling to keep her at arm’s length as Nellie fled down the pale carpeted stairs.

I
T WAS THE
most disturbing scene she’d ever witnessed in a family. Her head hurt as she raced through all the downstairs rooms, calling for her brother while overhead the frenzy raged on. Henry was nowhere to be found. Figuring the commotion had scared him, she looked outside,
everywhere, front yard, backyard, pool cabana, even in the amazing three-room tree house Mr. Cooper’s carpenter had built for the children. Twenty frantic minutes later, she finally arrived home. On the hot front steps sat Henry, tear- and grime-streaked face set bitterly against her. The doors were locked and she had the key.

“You’re in big trouble,” he warned as she ran up the walk.

“Me?” she panted, trying to catch my breath. “I’ve been looking for you. Everywhere! All over the place!”

“No! You and Jessica, you just wanted to get rid of me!”

“Oh, God,” she sighed, flopping next to him on the dusty step. “You have no idea; you don’t have a clue what just happened.” She described the ugly scene she’d left behind.

“She hit her mom?” Shocked, he folded his arms for a long, quiet moment. “You think she’s crazy? Like, insane?”

“I don’t know.” She must be, Nellie thought, pinching off the tip of a lilac stem. “But everyone’s so mean to her. Maybe she just can’t help it anymore.”

“Yeah, cuz she’s so mean to them!” Henry wasn’t buying it.