The Year of My Miraculous Reappearance (2 page)

I looked at Zack and he looked at me. Probably this was the part where I was supposed to say, “Oh, thank you, oh, aren't you cool,” which pissed me off.

I said, “This is all
your
fault. Everything was fine before
you
got here.” Which was a total lie.

“I was only trying to help,” he said.

Then I felt kind of bad, because he didn't even get snotty with me.

When I got back to the tree house Richie and Snake had wimped out and gone home. They never came in my house.

Never. No one in their right mind would. I didn't even blame them. I climbed down and went inside.

Zack was nowhere around but Kiki was over, standing in the living room, flipping around on the TV channels by remote control. “Where's Mom?” she asked.

“I'm guessing out on another shopping spree.”

“God help us all.”

Kiki could say that, even if Mom had been here, because she was a very serious Christian. She really meant it when she talked about God, with no disrespect.

“What's wrong with your own TV at your own apartment?”

“I must've forgot to pay my cable bill. Come on, Cynnie, it's my best soap.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” I knew it must've been something. Kiki steers a mile around anything to do with this family if she can help it.

“Did you know Nanny and Grampop were coming?”

Something about that question got my stomach's attention. It was just one of those things that never happens, that has no call to happen suddenly, just out of nowhere.

“Why?”

“I dunno. Why not?”

“Like, when do Nanny and Grampop drive all the way from Redlands to see us?”

“Well, like, never, I guess. Mom called them weeks ago and asked them to come. I think it has something to do with Bill.”

Just then Bill started to cry, because even from his playpen
on the patio I swear that kid knows a lot. I carried him into the living room. When Kiki looked at him she said the same thing she always said. “Pray for that boy's soul, Cynnie.”

I never told Kiki the truth, that I was afraid to pray. I figured, once I got started, then God would know where I was.

That night I lay in bed in the dark, whistling a little tune to Bill. I think it was “I've Been Working on the Railroad.”

Listening to Bill sing back to me.

And I realized then that a momma lion protects her young. She doesn't sit back and let anybody take anything away from her.

CHAPTER 2
Zack the Brave and Stupid

I lit candles on the table, so we could halfway see what we were eating, except it was Mom's hamburger casserole, so maybe the less seen the better.

Zack came in late with gallon bottles of water, so we'd have something to drink. This was all good news if it meant I didn't have to do the dishes or take a bath.

I jabbed my hamburger stuff with a fork. Like it would be that easy to kill it. “Why are Nanny and Grampop coming?”

Usually I could tell a lot by Mom's eyes on a question like that, but only if she'd paid the light bill.

“To visit, honey, why else? Won't it be nice to see them?”

“Yeah. Swell.” It was snotty, the way I said it. But she
pretended not to notice. I wished she'd call me on it. I wanted a fight.

I tore off a piece of bread and gave it to Bill to keep him busy until I was done and I could help him eat. Actually, he could eat fine, only not with forks and spoons. I figured that was nature's way of telling us to cut out the middleman. Mom did not agree.

Zack said, “Hey, tomorrow morning, Rita, I was thinking I'd go down to the utilities and get everything back on. You know, before your parents come.”

The room got real quiet. Hard to believe you could make that much quiet just by sucking out all the noise.

“If it was that easy, Zack, don't you think I would have? What did you think you would use for money?”

Whoa. The glacier age was back.

“Well,” he said, “I got a little put by.”

Mom patted her mouth with the edge of her napkin and folded it up before she set it on the table. None of this was a good sign. “I am not a charity case, Zackary, and my feelings for you are not for sale.”

“Honey, I never meant—”

“Drop it, Zack. Butt out.”

“Hey,” I said, half standing with my legs bumping under the table. “Don't you talk that way to Zack!”

I looked around and everybody was staring at me. Even Bill. I was hoping nobody would ask me why I did that. I was as surprised as anybody. More. I'd gotten caught acting like I liked Zack or something. I didn't like Zack. Did I? Anyway,
even if I didn't, he was only trying to help. She could at least have been nice about it.

Mom excused herself from the table, saying she'd lost her appetite. I started feeding Bill, but it wasn't easy. Even Bill didn't like Mom's hamburger casserole, and he's easy to please.

“So, Zack, what do you know about this Nanny and Gram- pop thing?”

“Well, I think your mom's feeling snowed under taking care of two kids—”

“
I
take care of Bill. And myself.”

“But you'll have to go back to school in the fall, and—”

“Forget it. They won't get him. I'm going to fight this thing. You'll see.”

I got up and took Bill out of his high chair. Just as I stormed out of the room, Zack said, “Hey. G.I. Joe.”

“What?” I yelled, spinning around.

“Before you break out the big artillery, you might try talking to them.”

“Talking?”

“Yeah. Talking. Tell them how you feel about the kid. And tell your mom, while you're at it. Didn't you ever try talking to people when you had a problem? I mean, your grandparents are people, right? They'll listen.”

I could feel a little sarcastic smile bend my mouth around. “I can see you never met Nanny and Grampop.”

Just as I left the room I saw him take a second helping of hamburger casserole. It takes a special kind of brave or an extra kind of stupid to do that.

Kiki was over, pretty much against her will, when Nanny and Grampop got in. And the lights were back on, because Zack was just brave or just stupid enough to think Mom wouldn't mind.

Nanny split my ears with that little squeal of hers. “Loretta! Look what a beautiful woman you are!” Kiki rolled her eyes at me.

Nanny will never call her Kiki. Never. Not until she dies. Not even if there's an afterlife. Kiki's birth certificate says Loretta, and Nanny is not big on change.

I just smiled as I watched Kiki get crushed. Even though I knew I was next. Nanny had this special hugging style, unless you were smart and you saw her coming. She always got one arm around behind your neck, and the next thing you knew she had you in a headlock that would bring Hulk Hogan to his knees.

Then she came at
me.
“Cynthia!” Too late to duck. My face was pressed against all that perfect hair, which never once moved. I had a theory that Nanny's hair was removable, like Zack's motorcycle helmet. That she took it off and put it on the bedside table to sleep, and that she was like a conehead underneath. Nobody's real hair could be that tall, or that perfect, or that unmovable, or that red. It wasn't natural.

Meanwhile, Grampop did what he always did, hung back by the door. He always looked like he was ready for a fast getaway. Grampop only had one eyebrow but it was a doozy,
running all the way across his face, knitted together like wiry gray wool in the middle, over his nose, which was also quite a show.

I said, “Nanny, I need to talk to you.”

She said, “Of course, dear. We'll talk all weekend.”

“No, I mean really, Nanny, it's important. It can't wait.”

“Of course, honey, we'll get caught up on everything.”

Then Nanny pulled Mom off into the kitchen and told her Zack was way too young for her, loud enough for everybody to hear.

Zack just offered to help Grampop bring in the bags. I slipped out the back door and up into my tree. The patio door was open, and I could hear most of what was said, because everybody was shouting to be heard over everybody else.

I heard Nanny say, “What on earth happened to Cynthia? She was so anxious to visit, now she's gone.”

Gone. Yeah. I wish.

Nanny never sleeps. She goes to bed early, but then she's up rattling around all night. She says the older you get the less sleep you need. But I didn't sleep half the night, either, so that made me feel old. I had something scared in my stomach.

I got up and sat at the kitchen table with Nanny, and she made me a cup of tea the way she used to when I was little, with sugar and milk. I liked that.

I said, “Are you taking Bill away?”

“Your mom thinks it's a good idea. She doesn't feel she can take care of him.”

“
I
take care of Bill. And myself. And her.”

“Well, that's too much for a girl your age.”

“You can't take him, Nanny. You can't.” I wanted to say why not. I wanted to say, He's all I've got. But it would've been so humiliating to cry in front of her.

I just kept stirring my tea, listening to the little
clink-clink
of the spoon on the cup. When other people do things like that it drives me crazy. Drumming fingers. Jiggling legs. I'd kill over less. She never answered, so I knew it was all decided.

I said, “It's not Bill's fault. She just thinks it's Bill's and my fault that her boyfriends don't stay. Because one idiot boyfriend told her that, and she was dumb enough to believe it. And lay off Zack, what do you care how old he is?” I was getting off the point but the detour felt good.

“Why, Cynthia, I—”

“Listen to me. Listen, Nanny. You never listen.” She looked hurt. I never thought I could hurt Nanny, but then I felt bad that I had. I thought she was as unmovable as her hairdo. “Mom doesn't do anything around here. Zack just got the lights back on because Mom went shopping with the money to pay bills. She doesn't take care of me or Bill at all. She barely takes care of herself. It's pathetic. And she drinks way too much.” Then I thought about Zack sitting on the steps popping beer-can tops, so I said, “Not that there's anything wrong with drinking. You just have to know when to stop. And she doesn't. At all. And another thing. Do you have any idea how many boyfriends she's had through here since last time you came?”

I could hear her breathing so clearly, big pull in, big sigh. “Well, if that's true, dear, it's all the more reason that Bill should be with us.”

“What about
me
?
I
have to live with her.”

“You're older, dear, and you don't have Bill's special needs.”

“Nanny, you can't take Bill. You can't. Please. You have to help me. You have to talk to her. We all have to talk to her about taking some responsibility.”

Nanny drank every bit of her tea without saying a word and put our cups in the sink. “No need to embarrass her in front of everybody. I'll talk to her privately in the morning.”

In the morning the house was way too quiet. I found Nanny in the kitchen.

“Did you talk to Mom?”

“She's going to try. But it's all the more important that Bill come with us.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Okay, I thought. Okay. Then Bill and I are leaving tonight.

I taught Bill how to hitchhike. We stood by the side of Highway 101 together, my big duffel bag lying in the dirt. I stuck my thumb out and he held his stuffed elephant in one hand and stuck his thumb out with the other. I had Harvey's knife in my front jeans pocket, to make me feel not so helpless.

I think it was about two in the morning. I'd never been out at two in the morning, so that was weird. Don't bad things happen when it's that late?

After a while we got a ride from a man in a big Lincoln, with uniforms hanging all neat and pressed on hangers in the back. He said he was a guard at the state prison, and he was going almost as far as Los Angeles, all but ninety miles of the way. He drove really fast. He'd get about an inch from the car in front and say it made him so mad when they went too slow that he wanted to bang right through them.

All of a sudden I got to feeling all helpless again, like something bad could happen, and then how would I take care of Bill? It was my job now, more than ever.

Then Bill started to cry, because he knew I was scared.

I said, “I think he has to go to the bathroom.” Even though I knew he didn't. I just wanted to get out of that car.

The man stopped at a gas station, and we went around the back, where the bathrooms were, and over the little fence and down into a deep, brushy gully where we stayed until the man stopped calling and drove away.

L.A. was a good, big place to get lost, but I'd heard stories about it, too.

We hitched back toward town. I thought we'd stay at Kiki's for the night and then make a better plan.

The first car that came by was the sheriff's. I started walking the other way. I tried to slip down an off-ramp, but Bill didn't walk too fast, so I picked him up and tried to hurry
without looking like I was running. I didn't look behind me until I saw his flashing lights. He was pulling us over. How can you pull someone over who doesn't have a car? But I stopped, because I figured I'd better.

That's when I realized the duffel bag went south without us, but just as well. It only made us look more like runaways.

He rolled down his window. “Evening, young lady.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Little late for you to be out. Who's your friend here?”

“This is my son.”

“Do tell.”

“Yes, sir, I'm older than I look, nineteen, and my son and I are trying to get home.”

“Well, jump in the car and I'll take you there.”

Bill and I got in the back. I was thinking about whether I was under arrest, and would it be a bad idea to ask. The sheriff leaned over the seat. He wasn't too old, and he had wavy black hair and a fluffy mustache. I kind of liked his eyes, though right at that moment I'd have been happy never to see them again.

“Got any I.D.?”

“I.D.? Uh. No, sir.”

“Don't tell me you forgot your driver's license?”

“Driver's license?”