“Daffodils,” repeated Lewis and he fingered the crumpled paper that had found its way into his pocket again, just as it had done for so many days now. “What about candy bars?” he asked after a short pause.
“What about them?” Julia retorted.
“Which kind’s the best?” Lewis said impatiently, feeling that his sister was only trying to drag out the conversation as a means of toying with him.
“Snickers,” Julia said answering with the same curtness she had used when responding to the question about flowers.
Lewis had no idea where or by what means he would obtain daffodils, but he had eighty-five cents in his pocket, which would be more than enough to get a Snickers bar from the candy aisle of the gas station across the street from the school. He got out of the car and walked hesitantly toward the double doors at the front of the elementary school, with his right hand still fingering the crumpled paper in his pants’ pocket.
Chapter 6
“I Was”
Yo sé quien soy1
When I was young and could not fall
I played until my mother called
and worried not and naught I knew.
When I was king of town and field
I did not know what time would yield
but ruled the land without a clue.
When I was wiser than the world
I was so free my heart unfurled
and I was I and I knew who-
I was.
Now those days have passed.
I have grown old.
1Don Quijote Book VIII. “I know who I am.”
When Julia got to the high school she weaved in and out of the rows of cars working her way from the front to the back of the lot. There wasn’t a single available parking spot so she turned out of the lot and down the road to the overflow parking. But when she got there, instead of making the right-hand turn into the gravel parking lot with shoots of grass growing up between the pebbles, she kept going straight. She didn’t know exactly why she didn’t park and go to school. In fact she could still make it to class on time if she turned around. But she kept going straight.
When the road met up with the interstate she took the on ramp for the same reason she hadn’t turned into the parking lot, still not knowing what that reason might be, and not caring enough to ask herself. It was the first time she had ever skipped school and she didn’t have a plan. Just drive.
When she got to a familiar exit she took it. The ramp looped down and under the interstate and Julia found herself on the road that led to Grace Assisted Living Center. She hadn’t meant to go to that place. She certainly hadn’t planned it, but the car was almost driving itself, and her hands and feet seemed to be obeying a higher power as they conducted the car down the road. They were slaves to impulse, to familiarity and habit. When she arrived she found ample space in the visitor’s parking lot. She pulled in and parked between the freshly painted yellow lines. There was no grass growing up between cracks in the parking lot and Julia walked across the mostly empty concrete sea.
As soon as she walked into the lobby, the smell of death overwhelmed her. An unnaturally cheerful blonde woman behind a large circular counter asked if she could be of any assistance.
“No thanks,” answered Julia, “I’m just visiting Abraham Manchell.”
“I think he’s in his room,” the receptionist said, still smiling.
“Of course he’s in his room; he can’t get up and leave,” Julia thought. She walked down the hall and pushed open the door to his room, which had been left slightly ajar. Abraham was lying in bed watching television.
“Hi Grandpa,” Julia said timidly.
He turned to face her and coughed before saying, “Aren’t you supposed ta be in school?”
Julia hesitated.
“Bein’ old an’ invalid hasn’t made me senile yet. I know what day a’ the week it is an’ where people your age ought ta be on a school day,” he added. “Well sit down.” He motioned to the chair in the corner of the room just below the mounted TV. Julia sat down and began to explain herself, but found it difficult not knowing exactly what had possessed her to do any of the things she had done since dropping Lewis off.
“I’m kind of skipping school,” she began.
“Well I can see that. Now what I don’t understand is why you decided ta come here. You know that most people your age go out an’ do somethin’ fun when they cut class.”
He sounded crotchety at first and Julia began to regret having come, but then she detected a hint of playfulness in him. It was hard to notice buried under the gravelly voice and indistinguishable facial expressions. But now she saw it distinctly, and she wondered if maybe it had always been there.
“I did something,” she began, but hesitated again, “something bad.”
“So you’re just like everyone else. That still doesn’t explain comin’ ta this place fer no good reason at all.” Abraham spoke with what Julia could now recognize as a smile.
“No. I did something really bad,” Julia continued. “I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at first and I still don’t know if it was wrong, but I feel horrible and haven’t been able to sleep and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“I’m no expert on morality, but generally if you have a guilty conscience it means two things. First a’ all it means that whatever it was you done was wrong, at least fer you, an’ second that you’re not such a horrible person that you can do somethin’ really bad an’ still sleep at night. If you was sleepin’ like a baby then I’d be worried ‘bout you.”
“What do you mean?” Julia asked.
“When I was in Korea we all did bad things, even some a’ the really good men, which made me think that maybe there wasn’t no such thing as a really good man. My only consolation fer all the bad stuff I done was that I couldn’t just shake it off. That’s how I knew I wasn’t completely rotten. I couldn’t ever forget. I still think ‘bout. . .”
Julia strained to listen but couldn’t make out the words. She wanted to tell him everything, this invalid, who, though he was her grandfather, was almost a perfect stranger. She felt like it would be easier to tell him than her mother, or even Sara. Maybe it was because he could identify with her. Maybe it was because he was safe, an old man who nobody ever listened to and who would be dead soon enough.
“Don’t you want to know what it is that I did?” she asked, looking for an outlet.
“Only if you want ta tell me.”
Julia shifted in the chair, obviously uncomfortable, as she tried to find the words.
“Maybe another day,” Abraham said.
“Yeah, another day,” Julia repeated and got up from the chair.
“Could you hand me my book? Susie always sets it on the dresser.”
Julia handed him the old western novel on her way out the door.
“I’ll come back,” she said and closed the door behind her.
As she walked down the hallway she was again greeted by the smell of death and hurried toward the front door. She pushed then pulled, but the door didn’t budge. She got just a little frantic in her anxiety to get away from that smell. The receptionist must have noticed.
“You have to enter the code; it’s eight-one-five,” said the blonde woman behind the counter. “It’s to keep the residents from getting out.”
Julia entered the numbers and rushed out of the building and into her car. She put the key in the ignition but didn’t turn it. She sat in silence for a moment and thought about what her grandfather had said. She thought about her not being able to sleep, and his words comforted her, and she realized that she felt a little better. Guilt and doubt still nagged at her but not like it had before, and that made her feel even more relieved. She sat in her car basking in that feeling until it passed. But when it was gone she hated herself for being able to be anything but miserable, and having almost had a moment’s joy made her loath herself even more.
* * *
Lewis didn?
??t go through the double doors that led into the grade school, at least not right away. As soon as Julia’s car was out of sight he ran across the street to the gas station and purchased a Snickers bar, which found its way into the same pocket as the crumpled paper, and then he hurried back to school. He didn’t waste any time once he got inside. All of the nervousness and second-guessing was erased by the urgency that came from his knowledge of how quickly candy bars melt inside pants pockets. He went into the classroom where a few other students had begun to congregate, and he discretely placed the candy and the note in Summer’s desk. Relief swept over him at once. He’d done everything he could. Now all that was left was the wait.
* * *
Julia left the nursing home’s pristine parking lot and went back to school. She found a place in the grassy gravely overflow lot and waited so that she walked inside just in time for third period. Nobody had noticed or cared that she’d been missing for two hours. The only evidence was a bubble filled in with a number two pencil on a scantron that would feed the information into a computer, and, since this had been her first absence that semester, the computer wouldn’t make a peep.
* * *
For Lewis the day dragged on slower than usual and his glances toward Summer’s desk and the clock that hung on the wall were even more frequent. She’d found the note, but hadn’t so much as looked his way. At lunch Lewis let Tommy eat his ham and cheese sandwich, while he nibbled at his best friend’s tuna salad. By recess he couldn’t wait any more. Instead of playing basketball with Tommy and some of the other boys he went directly to the monkey bars where Summer and her friends were talking.
“So, what do you think? About the note I mean,” he asked, forgetting to be nervous.
Summer had obviously not forgotten to be nervous and with a crimson face responded, “I have to ask my mom.”
The other girls giggled and Lewis went back to the basketball court where Tommy and some of the other boys stood in amazement at his courage. The only exception was one boy who made fun of him for playing on the monkey bars with the girls. Lewis was so confused that he could hardly appreciate their accolades or criticism. Playing basketball was almost enough to make him forget about the uncertainty that should have been tormenting him. But, unlike his sister, he couldn’t focus at all on his schoolwork.
* * *
“Everything in life seems discombobulated. Nothing flows. It’s like I’m being jerked from one thing to another. As soon as I really know where I am it’s off to somewhere else. I don’t know who’s saying what or anything. I need for things to be better grounded.”
It was 12:48 p.m. on Friday, November 22nd and Jessica was sitting on Thomas’s bed in his dorm room on the south side of campus exactly two inches from Thomas who was sitting next to her with a bewildered look. He had fallen in love with the fast paced life at the university and had never thought of it as discombobulated until that moment. But he muttered something in agreement for sympathy’s sake and put his arm around her. She leaned her head against his chest and neither of them said anything for a long time but when one of their watches beeped signaling the hour Jessica pulled away, kissed him on the lips, gathered her books and said thank you as she disappeared into the hallway, leaving Thomas alone and more than a little confused.
Though he didn’t understand what had just transpired, he didn’t see how it could be a bad sign. After all she had kissed him. An hour later when it was time for him to leave for class he was still wearing a goofy smile.
* * *
While Jessica was sitting on her brother’s bed Julia was sitting with Scott on his. “Is it really that simple? Do we just keep on like before and pretend that nothing ever happened?” she asked.
“We need to be a little more careful. But other than that nothing needs to change between us,” Scott said. He made it seem like Julia’s question was completely irrelevant, and at first his nonchalance made her feel that there really wasn’t anything left to do except move on.
“How many other girls have you . . . with how many of them did you . . . well you know.”
Julia had begun asking the question before she really knew what she was asking or why she wanted to know the answer, but now that it was out it seemed like the most important thing she had ever asked him. Scott was unfazed, and, with the same nonchalance, said that it didn’t matter now since they were together. Julia didn’t press the issue because their lunch break was almost over, and she didn’t want to be late getting back to the school on the same day she had already missed her first two classes. She straightened her clothes and fixed her hair before Scott drove them back to the school. He made a remark about thirty-five minutes not being enough for lunch and they parted ways.
* * *
Friday afternoon, after school and theater practice, Julia couldn’t bring herself to go back to Scott’s house. The thought of having to look his father in the eye repulsed her. She had only seen him once since he’d paid for her to go downtown, and his gaze had sliced through her like a scalpel. He made her feel like she was worse than a prostitute; there’s no obligation with a prostitute. His cold, aloof greeting had made her feel completely worthless.
“I just can’t face that again,” thought Julia, “at least not today.” She got in her car and drove to Grace Assisted Living Center. When she walked through the second set of double doors, she was nonplused by the smell that greeted her. The blonde receptionist greeted her by name and Julia, surprised at having been recognized, made a point to remember the name pinned to her shirt, Susie. She entered her grandfather’s room without knocking and sat down in the chair by his bed.
“Grandpa?” she asked, not knowing if he was awake.
“What brings you back here?” Abraham’s tone was paternal but not condescending. “I’d tell you ta have a seat but you’ve already found one. Whatever happened ta manners? What are they teachin’ in the schools these days?”
Julia didn’t detect the slightest hint of real disapproval, something she would have assumed a month ago simply because of the gruff nature of Abraham’s speech. She explained that schools weren’t supposed to teach manners but rather grammar and calculus.
“Well they should start teachin’ manners, those would get you a lot further than calculus,” Abraham said.
“Unless you want to be an architect,” Julia contradicted playfully.
Abraham grunted in such a way that Julia felt that he really believed that even for an architect manners were more important than calculus. She decided to change the subject and mentioned that Susie had greeted her by name.
“She asked ‘bout you the last time you came in; this mornin’ I guess it was. Not many people here have seventeen year old girls come in ta visit when they aren’t forced ta.”
“Eighteen,” corrected Julia.
“Okay, eighteen. But I’m still surprised that she managed ta remember your name. She’s not exactly the best a’ people, at least not when it comes ta rememberin’ stuff.”
“Maybe she wants to be a good person and she’s making more of an effort now. I see that she left your book where you can reach it instead of on the dresser.”
“There’s a’ world a’ difference ‘tween wantin’ ta be good an’ actually carin’ ‘bout people. An’ doin’ a few decent things don’t make a person good. I would imagine that everyone wants ta be good, but nobody actually takes the time ta help or care ‘bout their neighbors ‘cept when it’s convenient. I guess they figure that they’re too busy ta actually be a good person.”
Julia didn’t know if he was just rambling or if his words had something to do with the statement she’d made earlier that day about having done something bad.
“Do you know why I came to see you? Julia asked.
“You mean it wasn’t ‘cause you enjoy my company?” Abraham joked.
“I wanted to hear about what you did in the war.”
Abraham didn’t say anything at first. Memories were coming to the sur
face. Julia sat still, patiently enduring the silence. Finally Abraham spoke up.
“I’ll tell you the next time you come, but you have ta bring your little brother with you.”
Julia laughed, but then realized that he was serious.
“You mean it?”
“I’m dead serious,” Abraham said in response, and Julia asked when a good time would be.
“I’ll be here,” Abraham said.
Julia felt a little guilty for not having fully understood his position until that moment. She spent the drive back trying to think of how she could convince Lewis to go back with her. When she got home and her father asked her where she had been she said that she’d been at Scott’s house. She didn’t understand why she had instinctively felt the need to lie about having been with her grandfather. But the lie came more naturally than the truth, and it was more plausible.
After dealing with her father, Julia poked her head into Lewis’s room. He was watching the little television that had found its way to his nightstand when their parents had bought a larger one for their own bedroom.
“Lewis,” she said in a whisper. She had to call him several times before he heard her, or at least before he acknowledged her.
“What?” he said, as if he were in the middle of something important.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, but it’s a secret. Tell Mom that I’m taking you to the park and then we’ll go.”
The excitement of a surprise made Lewis forget to be skeptical of his big sister doing something nice for him, and he hurried to carry out her instructions. Soon they were in her car driving on the interstate. And it was all Lewis could do not to ask where they were going. When they pulled into the parking lot at Grace Assisted Living Center he exclaimed, “We’re not going to see Grandpa! I thought it was going to be a good surprise.” His words were filled with the same disappointment and disgust that Julia had felt on previous visits. She assured him that it would be okay, and he followed her into the building, but without the bounce that had been in his step when they’d left the house.
“Back so soon?” Susie said when she saw them. “I’ll get you another chair.” She dragged an extra chair from the lobby into Abraham’s room before stepping out the door.
“So how did she convince you ta come?” Abraham asked Lewis when they were all seated and alone. Lewis, who felt deceived by his sister, was quick to tell the whole story about Julia having a surprise and telling their parents they were going to the park.