Banana Rose

  She started to cry. I realized I’d never seen her cry before.

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not going to happen.”

  “Sure it is.” What was she talking about?

  “Nell, I see angels. They’re coming for me. I see them.”

  I grew alarmed. She was hallucinating. “Do you want me to go get a doctor? What kind of drugs are they giving you?” I started to stand up.

  “No, stay with me, Nell.” I sat back down. “They’re coming.” She nodded her head and closed her eyes. “Nell, remember we’ll always be together.”

  “Sure we will.” I found a piece of gum in my pocket. I took it out and I began to chew it hard. It didn’t seem to bother Anna. I stood up and began to pace. I was nervous. Maybe it was all those hours without sleep.

  I leaned close to Anna. I took the gum out of my mouth and stuck it under her bed. “Anna,” I called in her ear. “Anna.”

  She stirred slightly. She opened her eyes and smiled.

  I smiled back and sat down again. It was so quiet.

  Then I saw them too: five angels hovering over her bed. As I watched, almost a violet smoke came out of Anna. The angels lifted it like a veil and floated off. I kept staring but saw nothing except morning, its light, breaking outside the window.

  I was suddenly afraid to look back at Anna. I stood up. My legs were shaking so much, I had to grab the chair. I glanced back at her as I ran out the door. She looked like she was sleeping. I ran down the shiny hospital floor and grabbed a man in a white coat.

  “Please, I think something has happened.” I could hardly speak.

  “What room?”

  “Two-oh-eight. Please.” I turned and ran back to the room.

  “I’ll get a doctor,” he called after me.

  “Anna, oh, Anna.” I knelt by her bed, put my cheek to her chest and my arms around her, and started to rock her. “Anna, Anna, Anna,” I repeated over and over. I was crying now, low moans that came from deep down. I was still afraid to look at her face. I just kept rocking her.

  Finally I looked up. I was right. She was gone. Her face seemed so peaceful, and her eyes were staring in the distance.

  “Excuse me, miss.” A nurse and doctor were behind me. The nurse put her hand on my shoulder. “Please let the doctor see her.” The nurse led me out into the hall. I followed submissively. Other technicians ran in with machines, but I knew it was over. I’d seen the angels.

  “She was my best friend,” I told the nurse. “My sister,” I trailed off.

  “Yes.” The nurse patted me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you sit here on the bench? It will be a little while.”

  I sat down and waited.

  The doctor came out. “A ruptured spleen. We didn’t detect it. She’s gone.” He turned to me. “There’s nothing we can do now. I’m sorry, miss.”

  “I’m her sister,” I said. “I’m Nell Gates. Can I go see her again?” I was cool. I had a plan.

  “Yes, of course. Take your time. Arrangements will have to be made. Do you want to tell your parents?”

  “I’ll call my brother.” I was walking toward her room.

  I went back in and shut the door behind me. “Anna,” I said in my best schoolteacher voice, “now, listen. Just tell those angels to come back. Tell them to come back.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Please, Anna.” I softened. “Please. Tell them to bring you back. We’ll go to Taos. I’ll be a famous painter. You’ll be a great writer. Please, Anna.” I shook her arm. “Do you hear me?” I begged. “Come back, and I’ll take you to Taos.” I paused. My plan wasn’t working.

  The sheet had been pulled over her face. This couldn’t be happening. There was a black fist in my stomach.

  I sat down on the chair by her bed. I stared out the window. The sun was really out now. I saw a red semi in the distance. I leaned forward, put my elbows on my knees, and kept looking across the hospital bed out the window. She had died in Dodge City, Kansas. Not in Nebraska, not in New Mexico. Anna, my Anna.

  I turned and lowered the sheet. “Anna, I promise I’ll never forget you.” I felt crazy. This couldn’t be happening.

  The nurse came in. “It’s time to call your family. We have to make arrangements for the body.”

  “The body? Oh, I’ll take it,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “Fine. You should call home and make funeral arrangements. You’ll need to sign papers at the front desk.”

  “Of course.” My head was empty.

  I took out the envelope Blue had given me and sat down. There was three hundred dollars cash in there and a list of phone numbers, including Daniel’s.

  I looked up. Two orderlies had just walked in with a gurney. They lifted Anna onto it.

  Oh, my god, they’re taking her away. I stood up. “No!” I cried out.

  They both turned to me. “We have to, ma’am.”

  “No. No. No.” I shook my head back and forth. Now I was crying. Now I was crying real hard. “No. No. No.”

  They were pushing her out. “Wait.” I held up my hand. “Where can I find a rabbi?”

  “There’s one on call. Ask at the desk.”

  “Can I see her again? I have to pray,” I said.

  “She’ll be in the morgue. Go to the desk.”

  I started to pull at my T-shirt. I couldn’t stop crying. I ran down the hall to the desk. “Please, get me a rabbi. My sister”—I pointed at the vanishing figures—“I have to take her home.”

  The nurse knew who I was talking about. “Yes, Ms. Gates. I’ll call a rabbi. It usually takes him a while to get here. He’s not exactly a rabbi—we don’t have one in Dodge City but he’s a Jew. He’ll come.”

  I nodded. “Where’s the phone?”

  I called Daniel. No one answered. I dialed Blue. The phone rang and rang. I thought of calling Gauguin. I didn’t have his number. What would I say?

  Nell, you are alone, I told myself. Take charge, the way Anna would have wanted you to.

  I stopped crying. I composed myself and walked back to the desk. “How soon will my sister be ready to travel? I phoned my family and they’re making arrangements. I have a station wagon.”

  “Well, it will take a while. You’ll have to pick her up at the funeral home. Oh, and ma’am, the Jew can’t come. His mother is very ill.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll say Kaddish when I get home.” I was very calm. She gave me the funeral home’s address and all the information I needed. “Where is a good place to eat?” I asked.

  “We have a cafeteria downstairs.”

  “Thank you.” I hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday.

  I went down the elevator. Instead of going to the cafeteria, I walked straight out the front doors. Sunlight poured over me.

  I looked down the street. A sign in the distance looked like it said, “Luncheonette.” Then I realized it said, “Launderette.” I scanned the street some more. There was Bell’s. I walked toward it. Dodge City was the emptiest, loneliest place in America.

  Bell’s turned out to be a grocery. I went in, and right next to the piles of bananas and rows of fruit juices I put coins in the pay phone and dialed Daniel’s number again.

  “Nell,” he said. “Oh, Nell, you’re there. Dad got sick. I had to take him to the hospital. I was planning to try to come down tomorrow, but my hands are full.” He paused. “How’s Anna doing anyway? Nell, are you there?”

  “Daniel, she’s dead. She died at daybreak of a ruptured spleen.” I paused for a long time. “I’m sorry. They’ll let me drive her up to Beatrice as soon as the body’s ready. You’d better make funeral arrangements.” There was a long, long silence. “Daniel, I’m sorry.”

  “My little sister? You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I was there when she died.” I breathed the words into the holes on the black phone receiver. “Anna’s dead.”

  I began to cry.

  “Oh, Nell, I’ve never met you, but Anna loved you.”

  “
She loved you too, Daniel. What should we do?”

  “I don’t know. There’s no family here but Dad. I’m afraid if I tell him—”

  “Listen,” I cut him off, “I’ll drive the body up, and we’ll decide then, together. Okay?”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. When are you coming, did you say? Did she say anything to you?” he asked.

  “That she’ll always be with us.” I wiped tears from my eyes. “That’s what she said.”

  “Sounds like Anna.” He let out a wry laugh.

  “Daniel, Anna’s dead.” I had to say it again.

  I bought two apples with a ten that Blue had given me and walked out the door, holding them in a small brown paper bag.

  It was late September, but it was still hot. The sun seemed to bleach everything. The sidewalk blazed up at me. I passed a garbage can and threw the bag of apples into it. I didn’t want apples. I walked on. I figured I had plenty of time. What were they doing to her? Shooting her up with formaldehyde. I winced. Anna wouldn’t like that. It didn’t feel like that was Anna anymore. The real Anna had flown off with the angels.

  The noon whistle blew. I passed a steak house. That was what I wanted. I turned in. The lights were dim, the ceiling black, heavy curtains across the windows. The place didn’t look too popular. I was the only customer. I took a booth in the darkest corner, opened the menu, and began to sob. I put my head on the table behind the menu and bawled. I cried as if a whole ocean were inside me. I couldn’t have cared less where I was.

  A waitress finally came over. “Is everything all right, ma’am?”

  I just kept crying.

  “Ma am?”

  “Bring me something, anything.”

  “A Coke?”

  Yes, I nodded.

  “A hamburger?”

  Yes, I nodded again.

  “French fries?”

  “Anything you want.” My head rested on the cool table.

  She brought me the food. I looked up.

  “My sister died.” I pressed in my lips.

  “Oh, honey,” she said, and placed the plate in front of me. “Want some ketchup?”

  No, I shook my head.

  “Now, you just take your time,” she said.

  I nodded obediently and put a fry into my mouth.

  Anna was finally ready to go. They wrapped her like a mummy and then put her in a body bag. While they placed her in the back of Blue’s station wagon, I just sat in the driver’s seat and looked straight ahead. The door slammed, and then a man came from behind and leaned into my window. “She’s ready.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and pulled away. I was afraid to look back.

  With stony eyes I steered the car onto 56 North. The sign said “Scenic Route.” Leave it to Anna to have picked this.

  There wasn’t much traffic. I thought of switching on Van, and then I couldn’t. Anna was dead in the back seat. After about twenty miles, I pulled over to the shoulder and fell over the steering wheel. Sweat was pouring down my body. C’mon, Nell, get a grip, I said to myself.

  “What are you doing?” It sounded like Anna.

  I sat up. I looked around me. No one was there.

  Then I looked around again. There she was, in the passenger seat. Not in the flesh. More in the form of smoke. “Nell, turn around. Take me to Taos. You promised to get me there.”

  “Anna!” My eyes were bugging out of my head. “You’re dead. What are you doing here?” I was shocked but not afraid. It felt like Anna, not like a devil or anything. “You’re dead, Anna.”

  “Quit all this crying, Nell. Turn this car around. I was headed for the mesa. Now finish it. Take me there.”

  I started to cry all over again. She grabbed my T-shirt at the collar. “Listen, will you?”

  I jerked up—this was a strong ghost. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Nell, take me where I belong and quit bawling.” Yup, that was Anna, no-nonsense, Midwestern. Then the smoke disappeared through a crack in the windshield.

  “No, wait,” I called. “Wait, Anna. Talk to me.”

  “I did. You heard me.” Her voice was like a distant echo.

  I turned my head and looked in the back of the car. The body was still there. She was still dead.

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, Anna,” I said. I spotted a break in the divider and spun the car around. “We’re heading home.” I gassed the car up to 85, opened the windows, and put on Van at full blast.

  55

  DANIEL HAD ARRIVED two days ago. He was even taller than Anna and had the same color hair, almost the same length, but his eyes were brown. You could tell they were related, but Daniel was more awkward with his big size and clumsy about his manners.

  “It’s okay that you hijacked Anna.” He broke into a big grin. It was Anna all over again—her heart-shaped face, her wide cheekbones, her rugged mouth. He reached out his hand to shake mine.

  For a moment his sister was present again in the flesh. I had to turn away as I offered my hand.

  We kept Anna in the pyramid Sam had built years ago after he read that pyramids had magical powers. When I arrived from Dodge, Sam made a simple pine coffin for her.

  I visited her every day. First I’d recite the Kaddish, then I’d tell her everything I could remember about who she was and about times we had spent together. I’d sit on the ground real close to the coffin; my voice, echoing in the pyramid, sounded as if it were reciting a litany. I told Anna about how I admired her for caring about writing and how I had never known anyone from Nebraska before. I even told her that sometimes I wished I were as tall as her.

  One morning I asked her, “Anna, do you remember when we hung the sage to dry all over the vigas on your ceiling? And then we sat under that beautiful smell and ate scrambled eggs fresh from Mel’s chickens.” At that I ran outside and picked armfuls of sage and hung it all over the inside of the pyramid. It was cool in there, and the sage made a good smell.

  I accompanied Daniel on his visit to Anna. When we opened the door of the pyramid, the sage smell filled our lungs. Daniel walked right over to the coffin and opened the lid. He knelt down and picked Anna up in his arms. “Sister, sister, sister,” he whispered over and over, rocking her in the body bag, his eyes closed, his face trembling.

  He laid her back gently and closed the lid, rested his forehead on the pine wood. I knelt beside him, and he reached for my hand and clutched it. I stroked his head.

  He glanced up, his cheeks wet. “This is like ’Nam all over again.”

  I nodded. “Let’s get some air.”

  We walked out into the sunlight. Daniel blinked a few times. “I gotta move,” he said, and took off running across the mesa. I stood watching until he topped a distant mound and then disappeared.

  On the morning of Anna’s funeral, I thought of taking a walk when I woke up, but instead I went straight over to the pyramid and sat with her until lunch.

  Daniel came to get me and we walked back together.

  “You ready for this evening?” he asked me.

  “I guess. It’s probably best. We can’t go on this way,” I said, and took his arm.

  “Yeah, it’s still hard to believe. I feel like I have to do something to mark her passing. After lunch I’m gonna shave my head.”

  I nodded. We went in the house.

  Blue had made a beautiful salad and fresh lemonade.

  “Did you know Anna sold lemonade in the summer when we were on the farm?” Daniel lit up when she poured him a glass.

  “No—yes, I’d forgotten—but maybe I didn’t.” Blue sat down and smiled.

  “Want to hold hands?” I asked, reaching out my arms.

  We sat with our eyes closed.

  “Anna, I really miss you,” my voice choked.

  “Me, too.” Daniel squeezed my hand.

  We began to eat. There were only the four of us. We had decided to keep it small since we were pretty sure what we planned to do that evening was illegal.

 
After the salad plates were cleared, Blue brought out the most beautiful two-layer white cake I’d ever seen. There was one big candle in the middle.

  “Daniel, do you want to blow it out?” she asked as she placed it on the table. “Make a wish.”

  He stood up, closed his eyes for a long time, and then blew it out.

  “Give me a big piece. I deserve it,” I said. “I always made fun of Anna for liking vanilla.”

  After I finished it, I said, “I still don’t see what she saw in that flavor. It’s got no punch.”

  We laughed and then a tremendous sadness swept over me. I looked around and knew the others felt it too.

  All afternoon Sam and Daniel piled up piñon and cedar. I helped for a while but had no will for it. They understood and I walked over to the bus.

  You’re going to paint now? I asked myself. I didn’t know what else to do. Anna would have liked me to paint.

  My eye glanced at the haiku book on the floor. I squatted down, closed my eyes, and picked out a page. My eyes fell upon:

  The first snow,

  Just enough to bend

  The leaves of the daffodils.

  My whole chest took in the haiku. Basho again. He knew some stuff.

  I stood up, picked up a brush, dipped it in blue and wrote on the top of a big piece of paper, “FOR ANNA AND NELL.” Then I dipped my index finger in red paint and wrote the poem in big letters. Then I picked up a paintbrush almost half the size of my fist, dipped it in black, and held it over the top of the page so the color ran down to the bottom. As I waited for it to dry, I searched through a big wooden chest at the far end of the bus. I found what I wanted—a clear plastic box full of silver and gold stars.

  I licked the backs of them and stuck them all over the red writing and the black drips. As I did it, I said aloud, “Excellent, Nell gets an A. Anna gets an A-plus. Excellent, excellent. The two of us excelled. Congratulations.”

  I must have glued at least a hundred of them on. “Yeah for Nell and Anna! They were great and wonderful. They were A students.” Then I glued colored sparkles all around the edges of the painting. I stuck a picture postcard of the Virgin of Guadalupe in the center, and then in the upper right-hand corner I painted a white Star of David.