“I want you to make sure she gets this, and you don’t have to pretend that she isn’t here. I know that was Roxy in the elevator just now. I’ve seen her here before. When you hand it to her, tell her it came from her sister.”
He looked at the envelope and then at me. Before he could say a word, I turned and marched out. I can’t say I wasn’t afraid and trembling.
I made my way home as quickly as I had made my way to the hotel.
There were many ghosts chasing me, Papa’s in the lead, all of them bawling me out. Their voices grew louder. I was practically running down the sidewalk, my hands over my ears. I bumped into people, cut between people, even stepped into the street to get past older people who were walking too slowly.
I was sure I looked like someone fleeing, someone too terrified to look back.
11
I said nothing to Mama about it, but for the remainder of the evening and even after I had gone to bed, I listened for either the telephone or the door buzzer. The telephone rang once, but it was Mrs. Maffeo calling to see how we were doing. I heard Mama talking to her. When she came by to say good night, she looked so tired and defeated that I couldn’t even think of mentioning Roxy. But thinking about her kept me up most of the night. I tossed and turned, worried that I might have done something that would make things worse somehow. Maybe Roxy’s company, or whatever it was called, didn’t know who she really was. Maybe someone would be coming around to check up. I knew that would be very disturbing for Mama. Roxy could come here when I was in school, too, and she might be nasty and terrible to Mama.
As much as I hated the very thought of returning to school, I rose as early as I would on any school day when Papa was alive. Despite all that Mama and I had been through during the past days, I still dreamed that I would see Papa sitting in the kitchen, his Wall Street Journal beside his coffee cup. The sight of me dressed and ready that early always had brought a smile to his face. How I longed to see that smile again.
Mama was right behind me. When I saw her, I wished I hadn’t risen and dressed before it was necessary. There was no one there to impress. I thought Mama was forcing herself to be energetic just for my benefit.
“I’m all right, Mama. You didn’t have to get up this early. You know I can look after myself.”
“Of course you can. I’ve got to see our accountant and our attorney today. I have their first appointment of the day,” she explained.
“Why do you have to do everything so quickly? You need to rest, Mama,” I said.
“Things have to be done now,” she insisted.
I wanted to ask why. Were we in some sort of financial trouble? Surely, with Papa’s success and his life insurance, we would be fine. Were there things they had kept hidden from me? Whatever it was, she shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of it all alone, I thought, but I could see that continuing the discussion would only tire her out. I ate my breakfast and kissed her before I started out for school. When I hugged her, she seemed to be trembling, but she forced a quick smile and, as usual, told me to be careful. She used Papa’s favorite expression: “Stay alert. You’re always on guard duty.”
“Yes,” I said. We smiled at each other even though our hearts were heavy.
Chastity had e-mailed me a list of all the work I had missed, but I hadn’t done a single thing. I had little or no enthusiasm for school and even walked like someone who was walking in her sleep, someone really not sure where she was going. When I saw the school ahead of me, I almost turned away to spend the day wandering the city, maybe hanging out in Central Park. Chances were good that no one at school would call about me, because they all would think I was still in mourning. But Chastity did know I was coming, and if she called to see where I was, Mama would be terribly frightened.
From the moment I arrived, I saw how differently my classmates were looking at me. Some actually seemed terrified to speak to me. It was as if they thought they could say something or do something that would send me into hysterical sobbing for which they would be blamed. They forced smiles, asked how I was, but as quickly as they could, they moved away. Meanwhile, Chastity acted like some sort of bodyguard, answering for me or guiding me along. She was always looking for a way to feel important, and my tragic situation gave her a new opportunity. I couldn’t have cared any less about that or anything else involving my classmates.
I didn’t see Evan until lunch. The moment he set eyes on me, he broke away from his friends and approached while Chastity was getting our food.
“I was really sorry and shocked to hear about your dad,” he began. “Please tell your mother how sorry I am.”
“Thank you.”
I avoided looking at him, but whether he felt guilty about the way he had treated me or was simply curious, he followed with, “Does your sister know?”
I paused. I had all sorts of angry responses piling up on my tongue, but I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter if she does or doesn’t, Evan. That won’t bring back my father,” I said, and joined Chastity at our usual table. He didn’t follow.
“What did he want?” Chastity asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about him or hear about him,” I told her so firmly that she quickly nodded. “None of these kids interests me anymore. I don’t care what any of them have to say, so don’t bring me any gossip.”
Because of the look on my face and the tone in my voice, she hardly said a word during the remainder of the lunch hour. I’m sure she thought I was like a tube of nitroglycerin. It would take the slightest nudge to see me explode.
My teachers thought so, too. They were all quite sympathetic and considerate, speaking extra softly. None demanded anything of me. All told me to take my time and come to them if I ever needed some extra help. The truth was, my interest in being a very good student had waned with Papa’s passing. I think I achieved my high grades for him as much as for myself. Mama wanted me to do well, too, but I knew she would readily acce
pt Bs, even Cs, now.
Every day that followed seemed as gray and dull as the previous one. They all ran together like one long day, in fact. Once I reached school in the morning, my body tightened. It was as if I had gone into rigor mortis along with Papa. I imagined I looked like someone simply going through the motions. I never raised my hand to answer a question, and none of my teachers called on me. It was as if I was in an invisible cubicle. In fact, it wasn’t long before friends who had tried to reconnect began to act as if I weren’t there. I suppose I wasn’t. I mean, my body was there, but my mind drifted so much and so often that most of the time, I didn’t hear them speak. A few times, someone asked me a question and even repeated it, but I didn’t respond. They all looked at one another and at Chastity, shrugged, and then went on to something else.
As this continued, I could see their attitude toward me harden further. Whatever pass they had given me because of my father’s death gradually disappeared. I was just annoying to them now. It was easier to leave me out of conversations or plans. It reinforced the feeling that I had become invisible. At first, Chastity didn’t mind, because she was usually left out of everything anyway, but I soon felt sorrier for her than I did for myself. She was left with only me again, and I wasn’t good company. She might as well be alone.
Evan and his friends were another story. I had no idea what sort of things he had told them during the short time we had been seeing each other. I had a dreadful suspicion that he might have exaggerated the way I knew some boys did in order to appear more sophisticated than their friends, bragging about sexual relations or something.