Where'd You Go, Bernadette: A Novel (21 page)

A low rumble surrounded me. It was people in the audience rising to their feet, joining in, singing.

CHAINS SHALL HE BREAK

FOR THE SLAVE HE IS OUR BROTHER…

AND IN HIS NAME

ALL OPPRESSION SHALL CEASE.

I couldn’t see the words anymore because of the people in front of me. I stood, too.

SWEET HYMNS OF JOY

IN GRATEFUL CHORUS RAISE WE,

WITH ALL OUR HEARTS

WE PRAISE HIS HOLY NAME.

Everyone in the audience started raising their arms halfway up and wiggling their fingers like they were doing jazz hands.

Kennedy had put the
HANGOVER
bandanna on. “What?” she said, and crossed her eyes. I shoved her.

Then, the main black lady, who hadn’t been singing that loudly but letting the chorus do all the work, suddenly stepped forward.

“Chriiiist is the Lord!”
her voice roared, as the sign flashed:

CHRIST IS THE LORD!

It was so joyful and unapologetically religious, I realized that these people, “churchy” people, as Mom called them, were actually oppressed, and only now could they open up because they were safely among other churchy people. The ladies who looked so nice with their special hairdos and Christmas sweaters, they didn’t care how bad their voices were, they were joining in, too. Some threw their heads back and even closed their eyes. I raised my hands, to see how it felt. I let my head drop back and my eyes close.

THEN EVER, EVER PRAISE WE.

I was baby Jesus. Mom and Dad were Mary and Joseph. The straw was my hospital bed. I was surrounded by the surgeons and residents and nurses who helped me stay alive when I was born blue and if it weren’t for them I would be dead now. All those people I didn’t even know, I couldn’t pick them out of a lineup if I had to, but they had worked their whole lives to get the knowledge that ended up saving my life. It was because of them that I was in this magnificent wave of people and music.

O NIGHT DIVINE! O NIGHT! O NIGHT DIVINE!

There was a jab at my side. It was Kennedy punching me.

“Here.” She handed me her
HANGOVER
bandanna because tears were burning down my cheeks. “Don’t turn all Jesus on me.”

I ignored her and threw my head back. Maybe that’s what religion is, hurling yourself off a cliff and trusting that something bigger will take care of you and carry you to the right place. I don’t know if it’s possible to feel everything all at once, so much that you think you’re going to burst. I loved Dad so much. I was sorry I was so mean to him in the car. He was just trying to talk to me, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t let him. Of course I noticed he was never home. I had noticed it for years. I wanted to run home and hug Dad, and ask him to please not be away so much, to please not send me off to Choate because I loved him and Mom too much, I loved our house and Ice Cream and Kennedy and Mr. Levy too much to leave. I felt so full of love for everything. But at the same time, I felt so hung out to dry there, like nobody could ever understand. I felt so alone in this world, and so loved at the same time.

The next morning, Kennedy’s mom came in to wake us. “Shit,” she said. “You’re going to be late.” She threw a bunch of breakfast bars at us and went back to bed.

It was eight fifteen. World Celebration Day started at eight forty-five. I quickly got dressed and ran down the hill and across the overpass without stopping. Kennedy is always late to school, and her Mom doesn’t even care, so she stayed and ate cereal and watched TV.

I ran straight to the equipment room, where Mr. Kangana and the first graders were doing a final rehearsal. “I’m here,” I said, waving my
shakuhachi.
“Sorry.” The little kids looked so sweet in their Japanese kimonos. They started climbing on me like monkeys.

Through the wall, Ms. Goodyear announced us, and we entered the gym, which was packed with parents aiming video cameras. “And now,” she said, “we’ll have a performance by the first graders. Playing along is eighth grader Bee Branch.”

The first graders lined up. Mr. Kangana gave me the signal and I played the first few notes. The kids started singing.

Zousan, zousan

O-ha-na ga na-ga-I no ne

So-yo ka-a-san mo

Na-ga-I no yo

They did a great job, singing in unison. Except for Chloe, who had lost her first tooth that morning and stood there frozen, sticking her tongue into the slot where her tooth had been. We took a pause, and then it was time to sing the song in English, with my choreography. The first graders began singing and moving like elephants, their hands clasped and arms hanging down like swaying trunks.

Little elephant, little elephant

You have a very long nose.

Yes, sir, my mama has a long nose, too.

Just then I had a feeling. There she was, Mom, standing in the doorway, wearing her huge dark glasses.

Little elephant, little elephant

Tell me who do you love.

Oh, you know it’s my mama that I love.

I laughed because I knew Mom would think it was funny that now
I
was the one crying. I looked up. But she was gone. It was the last time I saw her.

*

PATIENT: Bernadette Fox

We were planning to confront Ms. Fox at her dentist’s office, where she had a 10 AM appointment. Dr. Neergaard was informed of our plan and had set aside an empty office for our use. Elgin Branch’s brother, Van, was to pick up the daughter, Bee, at school and go to the zoo until further notification.

We did not want Ms. Fox to see her husband’s car at the dentist’s office when she arrived. Therefore, it was decided that Mr. Branch and I would meet at his home and take my car to Dr. Neergaard’s office.

THE FOX/BRANCH RESIDENCE: It is the former home of the Straight Gate School for Girls, a grand but decrepit brick
building sitting on an immense sloping lawn overlooking Elliott Bay. The inside is in shocking disrepair. Rooms are boarded up. It is dark and damp, with a musty smell so overpowering I could taste it. That a family with significant income would live in such deteriorating conditions suggests a lack of self-respect, ambivalence about their financial/social superiority, and poor reality testing.

I arrived at the Branch residence at 9 AM and found several cars, including a police car, parked haphazardly in the driveway. I rang the doorbell. Ms. Lee-Segal, Mr. Branch’s administrator, opened the door. She explained that she and Mr. Branch had just arrived. FBI Agent Marcus Strang was in the middle of informing them that “Manjula,” the Internet assistant, had stolen all his miles on American Airlines last week.

Mr. Branch was shocked that Agent Strang was only telling him this now. Agent Strang explained that they did not take the threat seriously, as Internet thieves usually don’t leave their basement, let alone hop on planes. But last night the miles had been used to purchase a one-way ticket from Moscow to Seattle, with the plane arriving tomorrow. Further, “Manjula” had been sending emails to Ms. Fox, asking her to confirm that she’d be alone in the house while Mr. Branch and his daughter were in Antarctica.

Mr. Branch practically buckled in shock and had to find a wall for support. Ms. Lee-Segal rubbed his back and assured him his wife would be safe at Madrona Hill on Orcas Island. I reiterated that there was no such guarantee, that I would have to evaluate Ms. Fox before I could place her on an involuntary hold.

Mr. Branch began to misdirect his rage and powerlessness onto me, accusing me of bureaucratese and stonewalling.
Ms. Lee-Segal interrupted, pointing out we were late for Dr. Neergaard’s. I asked Agent Strang if the intervention would place us in any physical danger, considering “Manjula” was on the loose. He assured us we were safe and that ample police protection was in place. Quite shaken, we all headed out the front door when, suddenly, from behind, we heard a woman’s voice.

“Elgie, who are all these people?”

It was Bernadette Fox. She had just entered through the kitchen.

A quick visual assessment indicated an attractive woman in her early fifties, of medium height and medium build, with no makeup and a pale but healthy complexion. She wore a blue raincoat and, underneath it, jeans, a white nubby cashmere sweater, and loafers with no socks. Her long hair appeared brushed and tied back with a scarf. There was nothing about her appearance that indicated she did not care for herself. Indeed, she came off as well groomed and chic.

I turned on my tape recorder. What follows is a transcript:

FOX:
Is it Bee? Nothing happened to Bee. I just saw her at school—

BRANCH:
No, Bee is fine.

FOX:
Then who are these people?

DR. KURTZ:
My name is Dr. Janelle Kurtz.

BRANCH:
You’re supposed to be at the dentist, Bernadette.

FOX:
How did you know that?

DR. KURTZ:
Let’s have a seat.

FOX:
Why? Who are you? Elgie—

BRANCH:
Shall we do it here, doctor?

DR. KURTZ:
I suppose—

FOX:
Do what here? I don’t like this. I’m leaving.

DR. KURTZ:
Bernadette, we’re here because we care about you and we want you to get the help you need.

FOX:
Exactly what kind of help? Why are the police outside? And why the gnat?

DR. KURTZ:
We’d like you to sit down so we can present you with the reality of your situation.

FOX:
Elgie, please ask them to leave. Whatever this is, let’s talk about it privately. I mean it. These people don’t belong here.

BRANCH:
I know everything, Bernadette. So do they.

FOX:
If this is about Dr. Neergaard… if he told you… if somehow you found out… I canceled the appointment ten minutes ago. I’m going on the trip. I’m going to Antarctica.

BRANCH:
Bernadette, please. Stop lying.

FOX:
Check my phone. See? Outgoing calls. Dr. Neergaard. Dial him yourself. Here—

BRANCH:
Dr. Kurtz, should we—

DR. KURTZ:
Bernadette, we are concerned for your ability to care for yourself.

FOX:
Is this a joke? I really don’t understand. Is this about Manjula?

BRANCH:
There is no Manjula.

FOX:
What?

BRANCH:
Agent Strang, could you—

FOX:
Agent
Strang?

AGENT STRANG:
Hi. From the FBI.

BRANCH:
Agent Strang, since you’re here, could
you
perhaps explain to my wife the havoc her actions have wreaked?

AGENT STRANG:
If this has all of a sudden turned into an intervention, that’s not really my thing.

BRANCH:
I just want—

AGENT STRANG:
Outside the pay grade.

BRANCH:
Manjula is an alias for an identity-theft ring operating out of Russia. They have been posing as Manjula as a way to capture all of our personal banking information. Not only that, they’re coming to Seattle to make their move while Bee and I are in Antarctica. Is that right, Agent Strang?

AGENT STRANG:
Pretty much.

FOX:
I don’t believe it. I mean, I do believe it. What kind of move?

BRANCH:
Oh, I don’t know! Cleaning out our bank accounts, brokerage accounts, property title, which shouldn’t be that hard because you’ve handed them all our personal information and passwords! Manjula even requested power of attorney.

FOX:
That’s not true. I haven’t heard back from her for days. I was getting ready to fire her.

BRANCH:
That’s because the FBI has been intercepting the emails and responding as you. Don’t you get it?

DR. KURTZ:
Yes, that’s a good idea, Bernadette, for you to sit down. Let’s all sit down.

FOX:
Not there—

DR. KURTZ:
Oh!

FOX:
It’s wet. Sorry, there’s a leak. God, Elgie, I completely fucked up. Did she take everything?

BRANCH:
Thank God, nothing yet.

LEE-SEGAL:
(WHISPERS: NOT AUDIBLE)

BRANCH:
Thank you. I forgot! She cashed in our miles!

FOX:
Our miles? I’m sick about this. I’m sorry, I’m just in shock.

DR. KURTZ:
Now that we’re comfortable… ish. Oh! My skirt.

FOX:
Is the couch wet? Sorry. It’s that orange color because the flashing on the roof is rusted and the water drips through. It
usually washes out with lemon juice and salt. Who are you?

DR. KURTZ:
Dr. Janelle Kurtz. It’s quite all right. Bernadette, I’d like to keep presenting reality. Because the FBI gained access to your email account, we were able to see that you pondered suicide in the past. You stashed pills for future suicide attempts. You tried to run over a mother at school.

FOX:
Don’t be ludicrous.

LEE-SEGAL:
(SIGHS HEAVILY)

FOX:
Oh, shut up. What the hell are you doing here anyway? Will someone open a window and let the gnat out?

BRANCH:
Stop calling her that, Bernadette!

FOX:
Forgive me. Could someone get the
admin
out of my living room?

DR. KURTZ:
Ms. Lee-Segal, it
would
be a good idea for you to leave.

BRANCH:
She can stay.

FOX:
Really? She can stay? How’s that?

BRANCH:
She’s a friend—

FOX:
What kind of friend? She is not a friend of this marriage, I’ll guarantee you that.

BRANCH:
You’re not in charge now, Bernadette.

FOX:
Wait a second, what is that?

LEE-SEGAL:
What?

FOX:
Sticking out of the bottom of your pants.

LEE-SEGAL:
Me? Where?

FOX:
It’s a pair of underwear. You’ve got panties sticking out of your jeans!

LEE-SEGAL:
Oh—I have no idea how they got there—

FOX:
You’re a Seattle-born secretary and you have no place in this house!

DR. KURTZ:
Bernadette is right. This is for family only.

LEE-SEGAL:
I’m happy to go.

AGENT STRANG:
How about I go, too? I’ll be right outside.

(GOOD-BYES AND THE FRONT DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING)

FOX:
Please proceed, Captain Kurtz—sorry,
Dr. Kurtz
.

DR. KURTZ:
Bernadette, your aggression toward your neighbor led to the destruction of her home and possible PTSD of thirty children. You have no intention of going to Antarctica. You planned on getting four wisdom teeth removed to prevent it. You willingly turned over personal information to a criminal, which could have led to financial ruin. You are incapable of even the most basic human interaction, relying on an Internet assistant to buy groceries, schedule appointments, and conduct all basic household duties. Your home is worthy of condemnation by the building department, which indicates to me serious depression.

FOX:
Are you still “presenting reality” to me? Or can I say something?

MALE VOICE:
Get ’im!

KURTZ/BRANCH:
(PANICKED NOISES)

(WE TURNED TO SEE A MAN IN A LONG COAT STARING AT HIS PHONE)

BRANCH:
Who are you?!

DETECTIVE DRISCOLL:
Detective Driscoll. Seattle P.D.

FOX:
He’s been there the whole time. I passed him on my way in.

DETECTIVE DRISCOLL:
Sorry. I got a little excited. Clemson picked off a pass and ran it in. Pretend I’m not here.

DR. KURTZ:
Bernadette, Elgin would like to begin by expressing his love for you. Elgin…

BRANCH:
What the hell is wrong with you, Bernadette? I thought you were even more upset than I was about those miscarriages. But, really, the whole time all you cared about was some stupid house? What you went through with the Twenty Mile House—I go through shit like that ten times a day at Microsoft. People get over things. It’s called bouncing back. You won a MacArthur grant. Twenty years later you’re still nursing the injustice of a fight you had with some English asshole, a fight you brought upon yourself? Do you realize how selfish and self-pitying that is? Do you?

DR. KURTZ:
OK. So. It’s important to acknowledge there’s a lot of hurt. But let’s stay in the here and now. Elgin, why don’t you try
expressing your love
for Bernadette. You had mentioned what a wonderful mother—

BRANCH:
And you’re back there in your Airstream lying to me left and right, outsourcing your life,
our lives
, to India? Don’t I get a vote in that? You’re afraid of getting seasick when we’re crossing the Drake Passage? There’s a way to deal with it. It’s called a scopolamine patch. You don’t arrange to get
four wisdom teeth removed
and lie to me and Bee about it. People die getting their wisdom teeth pulled. But you’ll do it just to avoid small talk with strangers? What the hell is Bee going to think when she hears this? And all because you’re a “failure”? How about a wife? How about a mother? What happened to coming to your husband? Why do you have to spill your guts out to some architect you haven’t seen for twenty years? God, you’re sick. You make me sick, and you’re sick.

DR. KURTZ:
Another example of love is a hug.

BRANCH:
You’ve gone insane, Bernadette. It’s like aliens came down and replaced you with a replica, but the replica is a drag-
queen demented version of you. I became so convinced of this that one night while you slept I reached across and felt your elbows. Because I thought, No matter how good they made the replica, they wouldn’t have gotten the pointy elbows right. But there they were, your pointy elbows. You woke up when I did that. Do you remember?

FOX:
Yes, I remember.

BRANCH:
When I caught myself, I realized, Oh my God, she’s going to take me with her. Bernadette has gone crazy, but I will not let her pull me down with her. I’m a father. I’m a husband. I’m team leader of over 250 people who rely on me, whose
families
rely on me. I refuse to plunge off the cliff with you.

FOX:
(SOUND OF CRYING)

BRANCH:
And for this you hate me? You mock me as a simpleton because I love my family? Because I love my job? Because I love books? When did this contempt for me start, Bernadette? Do you have an exact date? Or do you have to check with your Internet assistant who you pay seventy-five cents an hour but is actually the Russian Mafia, who has cashed in all our miles and is heading to Seattle to kill you? Jesus, I have to stop talking!

DR. KURTZ:
How about we put a pin in love, and let’s move on to the
damage
that Bernadette’s behavior has caused.

BRANCH:
Are you joking? The damage she has caused?

FOX:
I know the damage.

DR. KURTZ:
Great. Next is… I forgot what’s next. We covered reality, love, damage…

DETECTIVE DRISCOLL:
Don’t look at me.

DR. KURTZ:
Let me check my notes.

DETECTIVE DRISCOLL:
Is this a good time to ask, is this anyone’s coffee? I put mine down somewhere…

DR. KURTZ:
The guarantee of support!

BRANCH:
Of course I’ll support you. You’re my wife. You’re Bee’s mother. We’re all lucky there’s a dime left to our names so I can pay for this support.

FOX:
I’m sorry, Elgie. I don’t know how I can make it up to you. You’re right, I need help. I’ll do anything. Let’s start by spending time in Antarctica, just the three of us, no computers, no work—