Edna in the Desert

  The silliest zombie movie was fun to watch with him because he seemed to think so too. Johnny liked Edna’s giggling better than the movie, and when she sensed this, she let her eyes meet his. She would not be exaggerating if she claimed to have seen the depths of the universe and the passage of all time in their watery beauty. It was a luxury for them to look at each other for as long as they wanted to. It was as if they were finally where they were supposed to be, until Grandma tilted Edna’s seat back up.

  These two were not watching any movie; they were pickling in their hormones. Edna was annoyed, but Mary didn’t care. The young man took the hint, and he put up his own seat immediately. Shortly after, the zombies were blown up, the town was saved, and it was time to go home.

  A canopy of stars moved with them down the highway, and Edna loved driving at night with a boy who had his license and a Jeep, even though Grandma was there. She’d been easy enough for Edna to ignore most of the time, except for the seat-tilting part and the no-touching part. Johnny opened the door for Edna to step out of the passenger side and folded down the seat to help Grandma out.

  “Thanks for the movie, Johnny.”

  “Thanks for coming, Mary.”

  “Can I come inside in a minute, Grandma?” Edna asked.

  “OK, Edna, one minute.”

  Grandma went in without looking back. Edna turned to Johnny. The pull toward each other was natural, like gravity, and neither of them noticed it. The porch light went on, but it was too dim to matter.

  “Thanks for taking us to the movie.”

  “Sure. Did you like it?”

  “I liked seeing it with you,” she said.

  A little smile came to his face.

  “But I thought the zombies could have been more convincing,” she added.

  “Really?”

  “I don’t think a zombie can jump-start a car. I mean, they’re undead. They have minimal faculties and no coordination.”

  “I think you might be right about that.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “I liked seeing it with you.”

  “And my grandmother?”

  “And your grandmother.”

  He had more confidence than the last time he kissed her. They knew each other, and they knew they liked each other. It was real and mutual and deep. This time Edna didn’t think she had to passively let him stop just because certain things that kept going foggy became clear to him. Namely that Edna was still thirteen and that Mary was waiting inside for her. He stepped back from their embrace, but she stayed close, holding the edge of his jacket. She ached to make him stay, to make him kiss her again, but she knew she couldn’t force him to do anything.

  “Johnny—”

  “Edna, I don’t think I can see you anymore.”

  Watching from the bedroom, Mary was surprised at how advanced their affection was, and she would have ended the good-bye if Johnny hadn’t.

  He drove away as fast as he could without screeching off and adding to the drama. As he looked at the dirt road in the headlights, he understood that even if he had no intention of pursuing anything, there was nothing innocent about being with Edna anymore. It kept ending up like this.

  The glow coming from the bedroom disappeared when Grandma let go of the curtain. Edna didn’t care what Grandma saw. She didn’t care what anyone saw. She watched until the Jeep’s taillights disappeared and there was nothing left but the stars in the big sky. Her heart felt so full, it touched every one of them.

  24

  REALITY

  Sitting in the morning sun was luxurious. Edna drank her coffee on the porch, leaving a pink lipstick stain on her mug. She was used to coffee, almost liking it. She was a different young woman in many ways than she had been at the beginning of the summer. She had a tan, something she’d never had before—not even a fake one, because Jill was convinced that was just as bad for your skin. Johnny was a little tan, especially on his cheekbones, and Edna decided that real sun was natural and looked good. Little did Jill know that by leaving her daughter in Dream Valley, she’d turned her into a tanned coffee drinker who’d been properly kissed more than once.

  Edna would have gloated that she got better revenge against her parents than she could’ve imagined by enjoying herself so much this summer, but being in love with Johnny made her feel above all that. Being in love with Johnny made her want to be a better person. She was still daydreaming about their last kiss, though it had been several days since the drive-in. She was grateful that she had so much time to think about it. Thinking about anything to do with Johnny’s mouth, his breath, even his teeth, made Edna feel like she was on the verge of passing out, and she thought about it constantly. If someone had told her two months ago that she’d be doing this, she would have laughed; the inside of another person’s mouth was a disgusting place to be avoided. Edna no longer knew herself. She had no idea how people in love functioned or went to work or school or were allowed to drive, for that matter.

  This morning Johnny would deliver the groceries. There were only a few weeks left of summer, and she hoped she’d get to see him more than just those few times, and then forever somehow, although her vision of this future was murky. He’d said something about not seeing her anymore, but that was small in her memory next to their explosive second kiss. If he had said that, Edna was certain she’d be able to talk him out of it.

  She felt a serene sense of fate, destiny and what’s meant to be when the red truck popped over the horizon at the usual time and kicked up its line of dirt across the basin. She would say it was a nice day and ask him if he had a good drive out. It was pretty much always a nice day in the desert, but with her evolved personality, expressing happiness about a typical day was starting to feel natural. While reflecting on this, Edna noticed that something about the truck was different. It was moving more slowly than it normally did. Just like that, her peaceful glow slipped away. The truck had a different driver. It was Ken Bishop, Edna guessed, Johnny’s great-uncle. Her soul sank as he approached.

  Ken stopped at the cabin and waved to Edna before he got the groceries. Edna couldn’t process what was happening. She expected Johnny to emerge from the back of the truck, like a magic trick or some kind of practical joke. Maybe he and Ken had to go somewhere afterward.

  “Hi, Edna. I had a great time at the party,” Ken said as he approached the cabin alone with Grandma’s packages. Edna tried not to look at him as though he was as disappointing as she found him.

  “I’m glad.”

  She hoped nothing was wrong with Johnny, and she also hoped there was a good explanation for his absence, one she was about to find out.

  “Is Johnny all right?”

  “Yes, oh, I almost forgot.”

  He turned back to the truck, but, his arms filled with groceries, he decided to make a second trip.

  “I got something for you. Let me set these down.”

  He went into the cabin. Edna heard Grandma say, “Hi Ken.” She didn’t sound surprised to see him, but she probably wouldn’t even if she was. Ken came out and stuffed money in his pocket, which slowed him down while he went over to the truck to get whatever he had for Edna. It was an envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Well, I’m not sure. You have a wonderful day, now.”

  He got into the truck and drove down to the garage. Johnny always walked down. The envelope was sealed, and Edna opened it. Inside was a postcard of an oasis, a drawn depiction of lush, green palms around a little blue pond. On the back, it said:

  My dear Edna, You know why. J

  Edna didn’t know what to do about loving Johnny so much, about thinking that he was such a beautiful person. Would she never see him again? Her eyes burned with tears, and she was blinded by a sudden, fierce hurricane in her head and heart. Ultimately, he was honorable and right. In a few weeks she’d be going home and to eighth grade. What could she really do about being in love? She smeared her makeup and saw the black on her hand. She was a wre
ck. She couldn’t look like this if Ken came back, so she dashed inside. Grandma was putting away the groceries. Edna ran into the pantry and slammed the door shut. She fell into another cry, one just as bad as when she first came to the desert. She’d probably cried more this summer than in the rest of her entire life.

  She didn’t know if she’d ever see Johnny again unless she got lost in the desert and needed to be rescued. She considered this, but it was too risky, and Johnny would only think it was stupid (it was) and then leave again after he found her, just like the last time. That is, if he found her and she didn’t die first.

  She was at her lowest point when she stepped onto the porch later. The rest of the world sat before her unchanged. It was just another day. It was just another day to a lizard doing nervous push-ups on a rock, and to the eucalyptus trees swaying in the wind. Grandma separated laundry in the back. Grandpa was silent in his chair. A cactus was silent across from him. It was just another dull day that was never going to end. Even if it did, tomorrow would just be another one. Edna was still too emotional to become one with all this nothingness. She needed a sense of closure, someone to fight with and someone to blame. Grandma was all she had.

  “Did you tell Johnny not to deliver the groceries here anymore?”

  “No, Edna.”

  “Well, don’t you think it’s strange that Ken came today?”

  Grandma took a moment.

  “No.”

  “Johnny comes every week. Why is it all of a sudden Ken?”

  “Ken usually delivers the groceries. Johnny only does it in the summer, this year and last.”

  “Well, there’s a few more weeks left of summer. Why did he stop now?”

  “You tell me, Edna.”

  If she’d been arguing with her parents, she would’ve had immunity from the romantic element of the scenario because they’d want to act like it didn’t exist.

  “Touché, Grandma.”

  Grandma could have said something to the Bishops about Johnny kissing her. Her parents would have, but Edna suspected Grandma was telling the truth simply because she had no need to lie. She was impervious to Edna’s verbal combat, tears and temper tantrums. It wasn’t clear if this was because she didn’t care that Edna was suffering, or because she knew it wouldn’t do any good to indulge these tactics. In any case, it worked, and Edna didn’t waste her energy. She wasn’t entirely sure if she knew the whole story about Bishop’s, but she had a feeling there wasn’t anything to do about it. There was only going to be another week until Ken delivered the groceries again, and everything else should be perfectly clear.

  If she wasn’t going to see Johnny again, Edna didn’t know what to do with the rest of her life. She sat next to Grandpa on the porch. Did she really have to do anything with the rest of her life, anyway? Maybe she could just sit here like Grandpa and that could be the extent of it.

  She wondered what Grandpa would be doing with his life, if he could do something. Based on her father’s personality and the stuff in the garage, Edna guessed that Grandpa could host an outdoor/adventure show on Discovery Channel, but she couldn’t really imagine what he’d be like. She was sad about her grandfather’s condition for the first time, rather than repulsed or bewildered by it. She’d like to have a nice grandpa to talk to. She tried to imagine what he might say to her that would be comforting, but she didn’t know this guy at all.

  Dinner was at the same time as usual, but the late summer days were getting shorter and the sky was noticeably darker.

  “What do you think Grandpa would think of me?” Edna asked.

  Grandma considered it.

  “He’d think that you’re a smart, courageous girl, and he’d be very proud of you.”

  Edna snorted her juice through her nose.

  “Edna!”

  “Seriously—”

  She choked.

  “I am serious, Edna. Don’t be cynical about your grandfather. Or yourself.”

  Edna caught her breath. She didn’t think she’d inspire Grandpa’s pride because she didn’t see how she had anything to do with him.

  “Is that how you think he would say it?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What happened to Grandpa in the war? No one told me.”

  “Well…”

  Grandma trailed off, and she focused on eating.

  “Grandma?”

  “Edna, I don’t know if I know all of it. I don’t think I ever will. I don’t think your Grandpa remembers it anymore, either. It’s all gone.”

  “What’s gone? Grandma…?”

  “Your grandpa was missing for a time.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “When he was a prisoner, in the war.”

  “In the same war as Raul and Freddy? In Vietnam?”

  “Yes.”

  “For how long? How long was he a prisoner?”

  “About a year.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “It was. Still is.”

  It took a moment for Edna to absorb these answers. Grandpa must have been tortured. Edna had seen torture in movies, but she always hated those scenes and shut her eyes and ears. She never knew that her life had been touched by a war. If it wasn’t for the war, she might be able to talk with her grandfather. If it wasn’t for the war, her grandparents might not even be living here. The gravity of Grandpa’s situation finally revealed itself to Edna for what it was. Grandpa wasn’t some creepy old man, some mentally sick guy she should be ashamed of and try not to think about. He was a man who got hurt, badly. It wasn’t the usual kind of sad news that could be twisted with a positive spin and ultimately thought of as for the best later. This was just bad, and there was no other way of spinning it.

  Edna realized that Grandma was probably depressed and had been for years, taking care of Grandpa with no one to talk to and nothing to stimulate her. She was probably so used to it, she didn’t realize how weird she was. If she lived with them in L.A., she’d be in therapy and on some kind of medication, but Edna wasn’t sure if that would be a good thing. They had plenty of room for her grandparents to live with them in Brentwood, if anyone wanted that. Edna didn’t know if her imagination could be worse than what had happened to Grandpa, but she wouldn’t force Grandma to talk about the war. She hoped Grandma was right and that Grandpa couldn’t remember it. Not remembering it was the only good thing about it.

  “He got sick slowly, you understand, and then it got quick. He played with you when you were a baby. He couldn’t see your brother the same way by the time he was born.”

  Grandma’s eyes filled with tears that didn’t shed. Maybe this was as close as she came to crying. Edna had never tried to before, but she wanted to give Grandma a hug. She came around the table, but Grandma didn’t move. Edna hugged her from the side, and Grandma held her arm. It was a kind of a hug.

  25

  DARKER DAYS

  Edna spent her final weeks in the desert doing chores, eating meals with Grandma and watching sunsets with Grandpa. Johnny and the war were always on her mind. She hoped Grandpa had really forgotten what happened when he was a prisoner, and she tried not to think about what it was. She tried not to think about the people who tortured him, if they were still alive and who they were. She had nightmares about people intentionally hurting people and about being tortured herself. A gaunt Vietnamese man with breasts sharpened a knife. He was more freakish because he wasn’t trying to be feminine in any other way. He was going to cut her fingers off in a dark room without windows. Edna always woke up before anything happened and then was terrorized by the thought that Grandpa hadn’t been so lucky.

  She had to get out of the pantry after these dreams, and she sat with the stars on the porch. She used to think her mind was tumultuous and that Grandpa’s was a crystal-clear lake, but if he had gone through torture, maybe it was the other way around. Or maybe there was no lake.

  Edna decided that she’d rather know the truth about Grandpa because then she might sto
p making up ghastly things. She’d ask her father about it when she got home. Men were never so much in the forefront for Edna. She was usually only occupied with women; she was always in a fight with her mother and spent all her time in activities with girls. She didn’t think about what men did. She’d never shot a BB gun or ridden a dirt bike before. She didn’t know what it meant when people told her that her grandfather had gone to war.

  Edna had already read all the books her parents left for her; Mrs. Anderson and the pioneer women had successfully traversed the country in spite of their many hardships. Edna got the impression that there were many more like them who didn’t make it. Apparently there were many cruel hardships in life. Edna had less than ever to distract her from her haunting thoughts about them.

  She wanted to talk to Johnny. She missed him. It wasn’t fair that he was living his normal life and she was completely isolated without him. She knew it was wrong, but she called Bishop’s. The rotary phone took forever to spin back before she could dial the next number. How did people ever live like this?

  “Bishop’s.”

  Jenny answered the phone, so Edna hung up. Even if Johnny had answered, she had nothing to say. She couldn’t think of anything, even about Grandpa, that would eclipse the fact that Johnny didn’t want to see her anymore, and that he’d gone ahead and made arrangements to that end. Edna would hate for him to have to reiterate this in front of Jenny and anyone else who might be within earshot. She wasn’t sure if Johnny had a cell phone or how she could find out without asking, announcing to someone that she was looking for him. In all the times she’d been with him, Johnny had never held a phone. It was part of what was so different about him: he wasn’t on an electronic leash, always typing into some device like everyone else she knew.