Soul Catcher (18 page)

P
arents’ Day was Silvera’s big chance to make an impression. Our parents’ money, after all, funded his opportunity for an obscure brand of leadership. But real leaders do not turn to confused adolescents, they speak directly to adults. Not Silvera. His line changed on Parents’ Day; he didn’t talk about ‘dealing with your shit,’ but about grades, and grounds, and graduates. He got himself a haircut and a shave, and wore a suit and tie. What a big joke. If our traditional values were so strong, we wouldn’t have been at Grove. We were all pretending. We knew our parents didn’t want us;
why
was irrelevant. And our parents didn’t really care how spic-and-span the place was or how well-dressed we were. Parents’ Day was marked on the school calendar; it was a requirement on both sides, that was all. I hated it, before it even happened. To me, it was just a reminder of how awry our lives had gone.

Dad was coming at one, and Mom at three-thirty. I put on a green plaid skirt, black turtleneck, blue kneesocks, and old penny loafers. I didn’t even brush my hair again after breakfast. I just lay on my bed reading Camus’
The Stranger,
while Gwen buzzed around the room, doing herself up. She curled her hair and searched through her wardrobe. Finally, she settled on a red knit dress that hugged her slender hips
and clung to her sharp, tiny breasts. I didn’t understand it. Why would she want to look pretty for her father when she claimed not to want to see him?

Rawlene came in and the two of them stood in the bathroom making up their faces. Then Amy burst into the room, wearing a blue dress crawling with wild red flowers. ‘Get ready!’ she said, and made way for a fat little girl with tightly cornrolled hair. She had a round chocolate face and wore a lacy yellow dress. A big yellow bow sat on top of her head.

‘Meet my iddy biddy sister Marigold.’

Rawlene dashed over to the little girl and bent down to eye-level. ‘I’m Rawlene, your sister’s very best friend out-side’a Nicky and you, sweetpea. I’ve been waitin’ to meet you. I hear you’ve got one helluva singin’ voice.’

In a high, clear voice, Marigold said, ‘Amy, she says I be a Butterfly ‘flwant.’

‘Baby, you’re a Butterfly. Lookin’ at you, I just know it.’

A vision of Marigold’s bow flapping and carrying her into the air made me smile. Marigold looked at me and smiled back.

‘This is Kate,’ Rawlene said. ‘She’s a friend of Gwen, who’s a Butterfly, too.’

Gwen stood in the bathroom door, her blond hair hanging in limp curls, her poppy-red lips smiling. ‘Hi!’ she said.

‘You a honky,’ Marigold said, and that stopped us all cold. She couldn’t have been more than four, a little seedling already sprouting racism. Marigold walked over to Gwen and touched her hand. ‘She so soft.’

Gwen leaned over and tugged at either side of Marigold’s bow. ‘And you’re cute,’ she said.

We all laughed.

I dog-eared my book and sat on the edge of my bed. A huge black man in a blue suit stood in our doorway. Marigold flew into his arms, crying, ‘Daddy!’ He nodded somberly as Amy introduced us. Then he turned and walked away, toting Marigold in his arms.

Amy rolled her eyes, whispered, ‘Sorry, girls,’ and left.

Rawlene shrugged and went after them, mumbling, ‘Gotta go.’

‘The man’s a fucking prig!’ Gwen said. ‘Those are my friends. He can’t do this to me.’ And she dashed after them.

The room seemed so quiet all of a sudden. The window was open a crack and I could hear whole families passing by, chattering, laughing, getting the grand tour. I felt a strong pang of loneliness — for
my
family, which today I would receive in splinter factions — and wandered out into the lobby to see who was there.

A few kids sat around, waiting, and a lot of traffic moved between the hallways and front door. A man sat on the couch in his coat and hat, looking nervously around, tapping his thumbs together. He had a pudgy, shaven face and dim blue eyes. He looked familiar. I stared at him for a minute before realizing that it was Mr Perle, Gwen’s father. Where was she? I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there, pretending to be nonchalant, trying my best to check him out. I noticed that his wedding ring was missing. He looked sad.

I couldn’t help it: I walked right up to him, smiled, and said, ‘Hi, I’m Kate, I room with Gwen.’

He stood up and shook my hand. His felt damp and clammy. Then we sat next to each other on the couch.

‘You look familiar,’ he said. His voice was smooth and somewhat high-pitched. ‘Have we met before?’ He looked at me intently, his eyebrows bunched together the same way Gwen’s would bunch when she asked a question. I remembered the bus station that first homegoing last fall; he must have seen me then.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Gwenny knows I’m coming.’ He looked at his watch. I’m on time.’

We didn’t know what to say to each other after that, so we just sat there in silence. It was awful; I wished I had stayed hidden in our room.

Luckily, after only a couple minutes, I heard singing. It was the Be Here Butterflies, coming up the stairs. Marigold came in first, belting out song and snapping her fingers. Amy was followed by Rawlene, and then Gwen, all swaying and snapping and singing. Amy’s father followed stiffly, like the cap on a bottle of fizz. There was no Nicole.

Mr Perle stared at Gwen as she moved through the lobby with the BHBs. I couldn’t tell if she noticed him, but she acted like she didn’t. She stayed in line and boogied down the hall, out of sight.

Mr Perle had a frantic look in his eyes. ‘What was that?’

‘Just some of the girls,’ I said, ‘plus Gwen. I’ll go get her.’

I found them in Amy’s room. They were sitting cross-legged on the beds, watching Marigold
get down
in the middle of the room.
Iddy biddy
Marigold could really hoof it; her patent leather Mary Jane’s squeaked on the wooden floor. I sat next to Gwen, and whispered, ‘Your Dad’s here.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I
saw
him.’

‘You can’t just leave him out there.’

‘He’s left me enough times.’

‘I don’t think he’s married anymore.’

She looked at me. ‘No shit?’

‘Well, he isn’t wearing that wedding ring, and she isn’t here.’

Gwen nodded, her curls bouncing around her face. She pursed her poppy lips. Standing, she announced, ‘Yo, my old man’s here, see ya ‘round.’ She winked at me, and headed for the lobby. That was the last I saw of her for a while. I stayed with the Butterflies for a few minutes, and then Ted came in to tell me Dad had arrived.

Walking down the hallway seemed like forever. It had suddenly occurred to me he might have brought Lisa. If she was with him, I decided, I would turn around and shut myself in my room. I would walk away.

But Dad was alone, sitting in Mr Perle’s old spot on the couch, looking gaunt and sad. My apprehension melted.

When he saw me, he smiled, and a gentleness glowed in his eyes. I kissed him on the cheek.

‘How’s my girl?’

‘You’re not even late,’ I said, and hugged him.

‘I made a point to be on time.’

I got my jacket, and we walked down toward the school building. Clusters of kids and parents and siblings dotted the campus. I was surprised to see Peter Prentice, standing by the main gate, wearing a three-piece suit under his pea coat. His grey cap sat on his head like a pancake, and his cold red hands dangled at his sides. A black limousine glided to a stop near him, and an elegant, silver-haired woman stepped out and kissed his forehead. A tall man emerged from the other side and waved. Peter got into the limo and they drove off.

‘Kid’s got money,’ Dad said.

I couldn’t believe it. The one time I had asked Peter about his background, all he had told me was that he was adopted as an afterthought to a late marriage. He never mentioned he was rich, or explained how he’d landed at a place like Grove. Maybe he had gotten kicked out of all the expensive prep schools for being too weird, and some therapist steered him here, to the Grove Loony Bin. I stood there with Dad, watching the limo snake away. Why hadn’t Peter just asked his folks to fund the dome? If my parents had had that kind of money, I wouldn’t have wasted a minute.

And then Dad said, seemingly out of the blue, though I expect this is what had been on his mind as we stood in silence at the foot of the hill:

‘Well, the divorce came through.’

His hands were pushed deep into his pockets and his face was serious. I didn’t know what to say. What
could
I say? Thanks for ruining my life?

We walked in silence to the school building.

‘Are you going to marry
her?
’ I said.

His face tensed. ‘Lisa and I are no longer together.’ After
a pause, he added softly, ‘This whole thing has been a big mistake.’

It was like my heart was a sponge sopped in conflicting feelings and someone squeezed it.
Pain, happiness, regret, hope
all flooded me. I was happy Dad and Lisa had broken up. But poor Dad; he seemed so strangely diminished. My father, my strong daddy, why was he being so crazy? Leaving Mom, leaving Lisa, and regretting it all now. Acting so compulsively. Dad, who was supposed to be the one most in control, was the least.

‘Who left who?’ I asked.

He said, ‘We left each other,’ and shrugged.

It didn’t take much to figure out that she had dumped him.

His face lit up, and he said, ‘Can you keep a secret?’

‘Me?’ I smiled. Secret-keeping was never my forte. ‘Sure!’

He laughed. ‘I’m going to ask Mom to marry me again. What do you think?’

Mom and Dad, remarried? I said, ‘I think she’ll make a great wife and a nifty step-mother!’

‘Just don’t get your hopes up, Kate. She may say no.’

I could hardly picture Mom refusing Dad — but there was Jerry now. Even so, how could Jerry possibly stand up to all those years with Dad? In my mind, he couldn’t. Dad would be the ultimate hero of this nightmare-turning-dream. I was thrilled!

‘Dad,’ I said impulsively, ‘I want to show you something.’

I took his hand and led him through the Smoking Circle to the hill overlooking the science field. The unfinished dome sat firmly on frozen ground, around which islands of snow looked like clouds. Senior the snowboy had partially melted and then frozen into a formless lump with a piece of wilted newspaper on top.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

‘It’s going to be a geodesic dome. I’m building it with a couple other kids.’

He looked at it in silence. I couldn’t tell if he was moved or baffled.

I said, ‘I just thought I’d show you.’

‘I’m glad you did.’ He put his arm over my shoulders and hugged me. It felt so good to be with Dad. He was my father again, not Lisa’s lover. I was sure he would bounce back to normal, that soon he would be too busy and happy and full of life to be on time.

After a tour of the rest of campus, we went back up to the dorms. Junior, who had told me his mother was coming, was sitting in the Upper Girls lobby in a little brown suit and a red bow tie. Marigold was next to him on the couch, holding his hand. I blew Junior a kiss and he hid his face, giggling, in the crook of Marigold’s neck. She didn’t seem to mind.

Mr Perle was sitting in a chair with Gwen leaning against its arm. Dad sat down on the other side of Marigold. She gaped at him. Maybe he looked like an alien to her, so tall and grey with his longish hair waving over his ears.
Super honky.

I never really expected Flower Booker to show up, but she did. She entered like royalty: tall, proud and beautiful. She was light-skinned and with her almond eyes, long nose and ruby-tinted lips, she looked like an Egyptian queen. She wore black suede thigh-high boots, and a long black wool cape over a red minidress. Junior broke into a huge smile, like a little man whose love had just breezed in. When Flower bent down to kiss him, her eyelids shone with silver glitter. Dad and Mr Perle stared. Gwen and I rolled our eyes at each other, and Flower winked at us with one of her sparkling lids. She didn’t so much as glance at the men. She just lifted Junior, set him down on the floor, and led him out of the lobby.

Mr Perle turned red all the way up to his receding hairline. Dad crossed his legs, clasped his hands over his lap, and looked at his knees. Gwen and I started to giggle. And this, of course, was the scene into which Mom arrived.

She was followed closely by Jerry. They were both
energetic, smiling, happy. Dad’s attention was rivetted to them. I had never told him about Mom and Jerry, and I guess no one else had either, because it seemed to come as a real surprise.

Dad stood. ‘Hello, Molly,’ he said. He nodded coolly at Jerry, who nodded back, then retreated across the room.

Mom’s eyes traveled from Dad’s blushing face to his groin, where a lump stood out beneath his brown pants. ‘For God’s sake, Max,’ she said. Her mouth tightened into a thin line across her lower face, accentuating her wrinkles, aging her instantly. Looking right at him, she pulled off her red leather glove. She was wearing an engagement ring: a fiery opal surrounded by tiny diamonds.

Dad stared at the ring, and I could see the spirit fade from his eyes, the color drain, his pupils contract to tiny black pinpricks. He was shocked, disappointed, pained; he had the stunned look of someone who has just been blasted with the truth.

‘I should be going,’ he said softly. ‘I didn’t realize it was so late.’

‘We’re a little early,’ Mom said.

Dad sighed. I was distinctly aware of the ‘we’ in her statement, and it must have sounded even louder, starker, to him. He got his coat from the arm of the couch and exited like an actor in a bit part no one would ever remember. Except me.

A
big pink card from Dad arrived in the mail the day before Valentine’s Day: a ship sailing into the horizon of a frilly heart. There were bows and curly-cues everywhere, and three naked cherubs pointed little arrows at the ship. Dad had folded a separate note inside the card. He explained that he would be moving into a studio apartment, and gave me his new address. He also noted in a P.S. that I would always be his daughter. That threw me; I had never expected otherwise. Did he really think Jerry could replace him? Just because Mom was remarrying didn’t mean my parentage was up for grabs. It couldn’t be. I knew that, and I was sure Mom and Jerry knew that. Why was Dad feeling so uncertain? To reassure him, I cut a big heart out of red construction paper, and in fancy script wrote:
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY Dad, Love YOUR Daughter Kate.
I mailed it right away.