Story Girl (24 page)

Fifteen minutes later, Jenny strolled through the door and announced that the shed had arrived. Luke would begin the assembly immediately. I looked out the window and watched him scramble up the driveway with Clarice in one hand, and an armful of shed shingles in the other. Clarice was drooling over a Ziploc bag of small, medium, and jumbo nails.

I didn’t have a clue what to do – so I decided to blame everything on my sister, “Jenny, I really can’t believe you’d put such added strain on our parents’ marriage – they don’t even sleep in the same room anymore. Dad doesn’t want anything to do with the new shed.”

She looked at my mother with astonishment, “Is that true?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, your father snores like the devil and I needed more closet space.”

“Mother?”

“And that new shed is a much nicer wood and will hold far more of your father’s tools – and maybe even more tools in the future. You know how he’s been going on about that new deluxe paint stick.
The paint comes up through the stick right onto the brush. Far less mess.”

“No, Mother – I haven’t EVER heard him mention any sort of paint stick. He’s never mentioned wanting any kind of tool – at all.”

My divide and conquer strategy was working very well, although it sucked to see Mary watching me with such palpable disapproval.

Jenny never took her attention off my mother, “But what I really want to know, is why you never told me about your new sleeping arrangements?”

Now it was my mother’s turn to feel the heat of the expectations she so vehemently helped to create, “Because I never thought they were anyone’s business but our own.”

“I could have saved myself a lot of hassle and expense, Mother – packing a small child across the country.”

“Are you referring to the bingo hall deal?” my mother asked.

I could hear pained hammering coming from the backyard.

“It was not a bingo hall
deal
. It was an anniversary celebration – attended by your close family and relatives.”

“Had I known of your plans earlier, dear, I would’ve clipped them like a dirty toenail.”

Ouch.

“Then I’m sorry I went to the trouble,” Jenny said – sorrow spreading across her face like wildfire.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Jenny.”

“Dirty friggin’ toenail?”

“No. It’s just that your father and I weren’t prepared for such a fuss.”

“Don’t speak for him!” Jenny snapped. “He’s not here. I’d appreciate it if you’d speak only for yourself.”

Despite Mary’s between the teeth protests, I was still rather pleased with the way things were going. I was watching the most natural of allies – who’d always been indirectly united against
me – turn on each other based solely on my clever machinations. My mother’s convenient delusions and Jenny’s naïve fairy tales were about to be made over.

“I don’t think this is the time or place to discuss this,” my mother said.

“You’ve been lying to me!” Jenny barked. “And I won’t stand for it.”

“Do not take that tone with me, young lady. I did not raise you to speak in such a way.”

I yawned. My mother’s dialogue was straight out of the stale script on what to say when one’s uppity yet harmless daughter protests. But I guess that was the best she could do with her precious little duplicate.

“Maybe you two would like some privacy,” Mary said.

Clarice wandered into the house carrying a ball of dirt. She looked up at us, felt the tension, and started to howl. Jenny picked her up and started whispering to her, but no amount of cooing could soothe her.

Having now trashed the feelings of even the tiniest member of my clan, I was beginning to feel just a tad wicked. And to make matters worse, my father was still out there somewhere, probably at the guns and ammo shop by now.

I offered Clarice the box of cupcakes and she started to giggle. At least one of us here was incapable of holding a cumbersome grudge – or in this family’s case – a cucumber one.

“Thirty-five years is a really long time to be together, Mother – kind of a landmark,” Jenny said.

“You mean milestone?” I asked.

Everyone ignored me except for Clarice, who was picking at the cakes with a very stiff little index finger.

The hammering outside sounded bad, even worse than my father’s, as if Luke were blindfolded with one arm tied behind his back.

“I think this project should stop,” I blurted. “Luke’s gonna lose a finger.”

“Luke is doing just fine,” my mother said, as calm and in control as I’d ever heard her.

“I think it should stop too,” Jenny said. “My husband shouldn’t have to do your dirty-work.”

“You’re the one that gave me that damn thing as a gift, and now you’re accusing me of some awful scheme. Are you trying to say that I’m a bad person?”

“Of course I’m not saying you’re a bad person – but you obviously didn’t want the
dirty toenail
, and Dad apparently wants the shed he already has.”

“Your father doesn’t really care about that old shed.”

I imagined my father walking zombie-like into a bottomless lake.

“How can you say that?” I asked. “He’s obsessed over it. This new shed is too big for the garden, and will
ruin the cucumbers
!”

“Wuin de kukes!” Clarice screeched.

“Oh, Tracy – now you sound just like him,” my mother said.

And out of nowhere, like a laser beam of much needed precision, Mary spoke, “What’s really going on here? This is like squabbling over a toothpaste cap or toilet seat when there are perfectly visible crooks making off with the real treasures.”

Clarice and I were open-mouthed, and I watched as a long string of drool – which had been connecting her finger to the cupcake – was now working its way to the floor.

“So – until all the facts are in – we should probably suspend all building,” she continued. “Plus, Herb should be here.”

My mother ran out to the backyard and the rest of us followed. She hollered at Luke to drop his hammer, although it was quite evident that not much had been accomplished, aside from a board accidentally being nailed to a beam.

He looked up, confused, as Clarice threw tiny fistfuls of garden dirt in his face.
She’s starting early
, I thought.

“Stop building!” my mother screamed.

Luke nodded and coughed up soil.

“Herb’s turned a very simple little thing into a monumental issue – and now the entire family has turned against me.”

Grateful that my grandmother was on the scene, I ran out of the yard and started a slow jog around the block. I needed a breather from my family before I completely cracked. Thankfully, I soon found myself in the place of my effortless childhood meditations.

chapter
35

H
E WAS WAITING
for me in the park.

The little boy version of James.

I watched as he wandered around the perimeter of the playground. His brow was wrinkled; he was looking for something. He stopped to pick long grass, and sucked the dew right off of the stem. After tiring of the honeysuckle, he carefully placed stones on top of each other, creating elaborate designs embedded with hidden codes.

Codes that were somehow meant for me.

There was no one else around, not a single child of any description. The teeter-totter and old-fashioned swing set that accompanied my early days had long since been replaced with a state-of-the-art jungle gym. I sat deep inside one of the colorful fort lookouts and waited.

The playground remained still until he looked up and spotted me. His smile told me that I had been the object of his earlier search. He waved at me till all the remaining traces of loss were gone from his expression. And with a face like the sun, he began running toward me.

But now there were many variations of James coming toward me – child, teenager, even old man. I stared down at the gathering – into the face of each and every incarnation. I knew they had something important to tell me.

I closed my eyes and listened.

“Here you are.”

At first, I thought little James was behind me; when I turned around, I saw only my sister.

“Why did you take off like that?” she asked.

“I needed to get some air.”

She sat down next to me – as close as possible, and we let our feet dangle over the edge of the fort.

“I didn’t mean to cause problems,” she said.

“I know. And I didn’t mean to blame you for all that,” I said. “I just needed to get it all out without attacking her directly.”

It was odd, but she didn’t seem pissed off by my questionable tactics.

“I feel like I’m always the last to know,” she said. “How long have you known they were sleeping in different rooms?”

“Just since I’ve been back.”

“That sucks.”

“But does it really, Jenny? Are people always supposed to feel the same way? Are we really meant to stop the one constant in life?”

“Which is?”

“Change.”

She looked a little annoyed, or maybe scared was more accurate.

“Are people really supposed to be in charge of each other’s fulfillment when they can’t even manage their own?”

“Maybe you get things that I don’t,” she said. “You’re the smart one, you’re the daring one, you’re the fearless one.”

Apparently, no one had clued her into the hives or the sweeping saga known as,
My Never-ending Discontent
.

“And you get things that I don’t,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Like how to care for others, how to remain open and un-cynical. I think I’m a cynic, Jenny. Even when you were a baby, you had such a sweet optimism. All I had was colic.”

“You really think so?” she asked.

“Have you ever seen a violent film in your lifetime?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“What for?”

“See what I mean – you don’t pollute your atmosphere.”

I thought of their new vehicle, but quickly put it out of my mind. Jenny seemed perplexed.

“I’m trying to compliment you.”

“Oh.”

“I know it doesn’t happen often.”

Jenny stared down at her dangling toes, and I could tell that she felt sorry for me.

“What?”

“Doesn’t it get lonely out there? In that place?”

She made it sound like I was living in a garbage dump on some distant moon.

A sudden flash caught the corner of my eye. It was little James, peeking around a large tree and holding a sparkler. I watched the jagged little spurts of electricity until he was gone. My fantasies seemed to be creating themselves now – as if I were just a convenient host.

“I’m fine.”

“But don’t you want a family? A husband at least?”

“Would I be a space alien if I didn’t?”

“No – but you might be a liar.”

“Then I guess it’s not a clean-cut yes or no answer. Things just haven’t worked out that way for me.”

“Yet,” she said.

I looked up into the sky and could almost see the faintest glow of the space station. I knew it was looking back at me, and so was the audience I’d so longed for. Everyone was looking down – wondering at my next move. Only little James was looking up at me, still holding his sparkler for dear life. He smiled as though he already knew my next move, and the next hundred after that.

“We’ll see, Jenny.”

“I think you ran away.”

I knew exactly what she meant, but such detection coming from her made me uncomfortable.

“What are you talking about?”

“I think you ran away from us, your family. But no matter how far you get, we’ll always be a part of you.”

“What are you talking about? I mean, you live out in Colorado.”

“We’re only there because of Luke’s practice. We’ll get back here. I want to.”

The thought of moving ‘back here’ gave me such a spasm that I almost fell out of the plastic fortress. I remembered what I’d said to James,
just a mad dash scramble to get out of Bumble Fuck
.

“I did not run away.”

“You did so – because part of you is ashamed.”

“Not true.”

“You expect other people to be honest, so now it’s your turn.”

“I’m not ashamed, Jenny.”

“Yes, you are. You look down on the people who stay in one place and live ordinary lives. But how do you know what their lives really are?”

“I don’t look down on people here.”

“Just be honest with me, Tracy. You’ll feel a whole lot better.”

“Okay, Jenny. Fine. I never want to be comfortable with the mundane. I never want to sell any sort of new or used appliance. I never want my crowning achievement to be a broach in the shape of an old crappy oven. Happy now?”

I so desperately wanted to come clean, and reveal that I was chasing a dream that I just couldn’t give up on yet. How could I possibly finish what had never even begun?

“See! You think our lives are mundane. Our father was a truck driver and our mother was a homemaker.”

“I’ve never had a qualm about that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“If they’re happy with their lives – I’m happy for them. And if your life works for you, I’m overjoyed. But one size does not fit all, and I don’t want to live here. Ever.”

“But now you don’t want to leave.” She had an odd smirk on her face that gave me the instant creeps.