Читать книгу Tully - Paullina Simons - Страница 25

March 1979

The days spun on. Their pattern was the same, small and uninspired, but each blade of grass brought with it the field of spring, each rainfall washed away the smell of winter. Each breeze carried off the last of winter air. The process was slow, of each tree’s and flower’s rebirth, of each day’s light getting longer by the minute and nightfall’s coming yet later and later. Had they all seen what was growing in the spring of all their lives, they would have paid more attention to those petty things that slip by so unnoticed, so unremembered. Time, however, is slow when nothing happens; and those cracks in the foundation seemed so unrelated, so trivial, that each incident was absorbed and forgotten, the way breakfast and sunset are forgotten – as part of the sameness that filled everyone’s days, especially theirs, especially the days of the young, when they gulped the air and lived to see the better world, the grown-up world, when they could not wait for the days to end so that they could get on with the rest of their lives.

February snowed into March. And in March, it rained.

The smell of spring came with the winds and the storms. There was a tornado alert every day, and rain every day, and sun every day, too. A typical Kansas March.

Tully was busy with Robin, with keeping him away from her mother, and busy keeping herself away from her mother. She received a small scare in the first week of March when she found a letter addressed to Hedda Makker in the mailbox one afternoon. What surprised Tully about the letter wasn’t that it was addressed to Hedda Makker, but that the address was handwritten. Hedda, besides bills, never received anything – certainly nothing handwritten. Upon closer examination, Tully noticed Hedda was misspelled. Heda Makker, it said. The Grove. Okay, thought Tully, and took it upon herself to commit a federal offense.

She was glad she did when she tore open the envelope. ‘Mrs Makker,’ the note said. ‘Your daughter is fooling around with my boyfriend. A lot. Every week. She stole him from me and now she’s lying to you every Wednesday and Sunday.’

The note was unsigned. Tully wasn’t so much stunned by the arrival of the note. She half expected some form of sabotage. What surprised her was the depth and accuracy of Gail’s knowledge. Not only did she know what days Tully met Robin, but she also knew to a useful extent the difficulties Tully had with her mother.

Tully tore up the letter, deciding to keep very quiet about it to everyone. She figured that Gail must have gotten all that information from the guileless, unsuspecting Julie, who was in the same English class. If Gail now thought her ploy had succeeded in getting Tully in deep shit, then she wouldn’t attempt any more war missions.

Julie was busy with the debating society, the history club, the current events club. ‘Talk is the one four-letter word you and Tom can enjoy together,’ Tully called it.

Jennifer continued to lose weight.

Monday, March 12, at Sunset Court, when Jennifer left the kitchen for a moment, Tully mentioned the weight loss to Lynn Mandolini. Lynn got a little defensive, saying her daughter never looked better.

‘Mrs Mandolini, yes, twenty pounds ago she never looked better. I’ll be surprised if she is a hundred and ten now.’

‘Oh, Tully!’ said Lynn, lighting up and taking a drink. ‘A hundred and ten! Really!’

‘Jen,’ said Tully when Jennifer returned. ‘How much do you weigh?’

Jennifer looked as if she’d been hit. ‘I – I don’t know. Why?’

‘Jennifer, you used to get on the scale twice a day. How much do you weigh now?’

‘Tully, don’t badger her!’ Lynn said loudly.

‘Mom, Mom. It’s okay. I weigh about a hundred and fifteen,’ answered Jennifer.

Lynn looked at Tully with an I-told-you-so look. Tully stared back defiantly.

‘Oh, I see,’ she said. ‘One hundred fifteen. Would you say that’s about a thirty-five-pound loss since September?’

Later, when they were alone, Tully said, ‘Mandolini, you lie. You lie. How much do you really weigh?’

‘Tully, I did not lie – ’

‘Jennifer, stop! I know your lying face even if your own mother doesn’t. Now, how much?’

Jennifer mumbled something.

‘What?’ said Tully.

‘Ninety-six,’ whispered Jennifer.

Tully was cold for the rest of the evening.

Later that night, in her own home, she slept, after hours of anxious restlessness, after counting 1,750 or 2,750 sheep. She slept at her desk, wind blowing about the curtains and her hair. Her hands were under her face, between her and the wood. Tully slept and dreamed that she was in the desert. She was walking in the desert by herself, she was completely alone, and she was thirsty. It seemed that she had walked for days and had not drunk for days. God! how she wanted to drink. To drink or to die, thought Tully in the desert.

‘Julie, there is something very wrong with Jennifer,’ said Tully, Tuesday morning, March 13, right after homeroom. Julie seemed a little absent-minded. ‘I think she’s anorexic.’

‘Are you crazy?’

‘Julie, I know you haven’t been paying attention to a lot of things lately, but don’t tell me you haven’t noticed Jennifer is now thinner than me.’

Julie looked thoughtful. ‘Well, maybe she does seem a little thin, but –’

‘Julie!’ Tully exclaimed. ‘She is ninety-six pounds! Ninety-six!’

Julie turned red and said, ‘Tully, don’t scream at me! Yes, that seems very thin. Sick, even. But what do you want me to do about it?’

‘Julie!’ Tully folded her hands together, pleading. ‘Don’t you care?’

‘Tully, of course I care. But I have an English report to write by sixth period, and after school we’re going to the Statehouse on a fact-finding mission – Look, she’s always been a little plump and she lost weight lately. And you kind of gained weight lately.’

Tully shook her head. ‘Don’t you get it? I haven’t gained weight lately. And Jen hasn’t just lost weight, she is sick.’

‘I’ve got to get to class,’ said Julie. ‘We’ll talk to her.’

‘You and your stupid fact-finding mission. Where have you been all these months? Where? I don’t know who has more of a problem. Do you know Jen got sixty-fives in all her classes and that’s only because the teachers felt sorry for her? Do you know she has not passed one test since January and is still failing everything?’

‘How do you know that?’ asked Julie, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

‘I know, that’s how. I know because I was talking in gym to two girls who are in Jen’s math class. They told me Mr Schmidt is worried about Jennifer. He keeps talking to his students about her.’

The bell rang. Julie sped down the hall. ‘We’ll talk to her, we will,’ she yelled.

Tully stared after Julie dumbly. Wanting to feel better, she had approached Julie, but now she felt worse. Books pressed hard against her chest, Tully went to class with a punched-in-the-stomach worry.

Four days later, on St Patrick’s Day, at eleven in the morning, Tully passed her driving test. Jennifer was with her.

‘I guess Saint Paddy listened to my prayers,’ said Tully, smiling.

‘Guess so,’ said Jennifer.

‘Thanks for teaching me how to drive, Jen.’

‘You’re welcome, Tully,’ said Jennifer.

Tuesday, March 20, after school, Julie gingerly approached Jennifer. She had wanted to do it earlier, or over the weekend, but there was so much to do. The president of the history club asked her to talk about Indonesia’s involvement in World War II, and she knew nothing about it. Today she had her current events club meeting, but she hadn’t read the paper over the weekend or Time or Newsweek on Monday, so she decided to spend Tuesday afternoon with Jennifer instead.

‘So, Jen, how is everything?’ Julie said as the girls ambled down 10th Street to Wayne.

‘Fine, thanks,’ Jennifer replied, kicking stones out from under her feet.

‘You and Tully excited about Stanford?’

‘Tully’s going to UC in Santa Cruz. She’s pretty excited.’

‘What about you? Are you excited?’

‘For sure,’ said Jennifer.

Julie just did not want to ask Jennifer, just did not. She did not want to bring up a subject Jennifer so obviously had no interest in discussing. How long ago did Tully and Julie stop teasing Jen about her crush on Jack? January? When Julie made some silly remark about how Jennifer could not hide her obsession with Jack’s butt, and Tully glared at her and Jennifer looked away. Julie never brought the subject up again, but now, two months later, she wondered why she never asked Tully about it. Why she never asked Tully if something happened between Jennifer and Jack.

Julie sensed uneasily that something had happened. Something happened to make Jennifer go from a plump, content girl to a darkening shadow. But, truthfully, Julie just did not want to deal with it. Just did not want to, and Julie felt ashamed on this windy, sunny March afternoon as the girls walked to Julie’s house. Ashamed that Jennifer’s heart was too much for Julie to help heal because it would take so much time and so much energy and so much of their day, which, instead of being spent in jokes and TV and their senior year, goddamn it! would be spent in tears.

Julie lowered her head; and when she did, she remembered school days the last few months when she would see Jack stroll by and smile his jock smile and feel Jennifer physically stiffen, remembered her own lowered head at this sight – of smiling Jack and stiff Jennifer – and Julie recognized that then, too, she was lowering her head in shame.

Julie looked at Jennifer’s gaunt, pale face. Her lips used to be so red, but now were bluish pink. All the highlights were out of Jennifer’s hair and it looked a lot like Tully’s hair before she had it bleached and permed for her eighteenth in January. Jennifer’s body was well hidden by a long, loose black skirt (Tully’s?) and a large sweatshirt. That’s all Jennifer wore nowadays. Loose skirts and large shirts. Ninety-six? Was it possible? And what to do about it? Julie cleared her throat.

‘Jen, have you lost weight?’

‘God!’ Jennifer said in a raised, exasperated voice. ‘What is it with you people? Everybody keeps asking me the same question! Can’t you be original and ask me something else? What about how I’m doing in school –’

‘Jennifer, how are you doing in school?’ said Julie quietly.

‘Great! I actually got a sixty-two on my English lit exam. Mr Lederer said I was improving. Anything else?’

‘Yes,’ said Julie. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’

Jennifer did not reply.

At Julie’s house, they played with Julie’s two youngest brothers, Vinnie and Angelo. Jennifer seemed to cheer up a little playing with Vinnie, who was her particular favorite because he would latch on to her and not let go until she left.

She did leave, though, before dinner, saying she wanted to eat at home. Julie walked her to Wayne and 10th, and they stopped at the corner.

Julie skipped a beat and said, ‘Jennifer, tell me what’s bothering you.’

‘Nothing, Julie,’ said Jennifer. ‘I forgot when to stop dieting. I’m a little low on energy. I’m going to have to start eating more.’

Julie was unconvinced.

‘I’ve been going through a little period of self-doubt,’ admitted Jennifer.

‘How long a little period?’ asked Julie.

‘Oh, about seventeen years,’ replied Jennifer, and they both laughed.

‘You? Self-doubt?’ said Julie. ‘Jen, what do you have self-doubt about? You’re brilliant, beautiful, strong…what self-doubt?’

Jennifer paused, then said, ‘Yes, well, it’s hard to argue with all that,’ not answering Julie’s question.

They hugged each other good-bye and as Julie watched her, a pit developed in her stomach. She loves that asshole, thought Julie, and was nearly knocked out by sympathy and pity and envy, yes, envy, goddamn it. Loves him! But then pity swam back into Julie. Loves him with all the bittersweetness of first love and now she’s trying to find a way to cope. Jennifer should talk to Tully more, thought Julie, heading back to her house. Tully would teach Jennifer how to cope.

Bright, beautiful, brilliant, billowy, blighted, blind, thought Jennifer as she meandered home, looking straight ahead with unseeing eyes. Yes, I’m all these things, I am so many things, so many of them good, some of them wonderful. I should know: I’ve been told nothing else my entire life, so how can it not be true? Yet it is as I have always suspected. All those things mean shit, for the world is full of beautiful people, full of beautiful, brilliant, billowy people. And so what? Ugliness is now inside me. Beautiful! What does beautiful have to do with anything? He does not want me. Everyone told me he was worthless and I was precious, but this worthless guy did not want precious me.

So if he was so worthless and still did not want me, how in this world could anyone worthwhile want me?

And he is not worthless. He is serious and strong. He is a lot like Tully. Maybe that’s why I just can’t stop. I’ve tried to do what Tully tells me to do. I’ve tried to study and drown myself in Tully’s heart because I know she cares so much. I’ve tried to eat, to sleep, and to listen to music. I’ve tried to look at other guys and think of Stanford. But what’s California to me without him?

I’ve tried to forget him. But every day I see his face above my face. Above me. I see his smiling face when I was a cheerleader and he was a football captain. When we played softball together. When he danced with me to ‘Wild Horses.’ When he was my friend. I have but a few memories, but the ones I have are all in my throat, the ones I have are all in my face when he walks by and smiles his ‘Hey, Jen, what’s happening?’ smile at me. I cannot even hate him. He has done nothing, this is not his fault. This is no one’s fault. Not even mine. Tully taught me how to fight, but even she cannot help me heal this sick, tired feeling inside me. And that’s how I feel. Sick. And tired.

Wednesday, March 21, Tully reluctantly went to dinner at Jennifer’s. There was something in the Mandolini household nowadays that reminded Tully too much of her own.

Silence.

Silence in the kitchen, silence at the table. Jennifer, Lynn, and Tony Mandolini sat and passed the spaghetti and dug into the meatballs and chewed on the bread, and around them there was no TV, no radio, no words, only silence! Just like home, thought Tully, and swallowed her bread too fast and started to cough, breaking the sound barrier. When she quieted down, she thought, I want to go home.

Lynn chain-smoked, unable to wait until she finished her dinner. Tony drank and looked only into his plate.

Tully could see that Jennifer was practicing voodoo self-control. She was counting the squares in the tablecloth and then the number of hairs on her arms.

My God, at least the radio used to be on. Maybe they started turning the radio off so that they could hear each other.

She’s doing it to them. They have no idea what’s going on, and she won’t tell them. They’re as lost now as she is. At first they thought she was doing so badly in school because she was so happy and having this great time, but they can’t even fool themselves with that one anymore. She is so obviously not happy. Maybe they’re afraid that thing is coming back to stay. I’m sure she’s anorexic. I wonder if she throws up? Would she tell me if she does? Would she tell even me that? Would she speak even to me?

After dinner, the girls washed the dishes and Mr and Mrs Mandolini went to catch The Deer Hunter before the Oscars, which were in a few weeks’ time.

‘So, Jen,’ said Tully when they were finally alone. ‘Tell me, Jen, how often do you pass dinner like this?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she answered. ‘Were we quiet?’

‘Quiet?’ said Tully. ‘What the fuck is wrong with all of you?’

Jennifer did not answer her, just kept on drying.

‘You gotta snap out of it, Jen,’ Tully said. ‘You just gotta.’

Jennifer said nothing.

‘You are making everyone miserable. We don’t know what to do for you,’ continued Tully. ‘And we all would do everything, anything, to have you back to your usual semi-normal self again.’

Jen smiled a little, but again did not speak.

‘Jennifer, tell me, are you anorexic?’ asked Tully.

‘Anorexic? God, no!’

‘Are you throwing up in the toilet?’

‘Tully, please!’

‘Jennifer, you really need to talk to somebody who doesn’t know you; you need to do something for yourself.’ Tully’s voice was getting louder. ‘And if you can’t, you have got to tell your parents to open their eyes and take you to a doctor, get you healthy again, get you on your feet again.’

‘On my feet again,’ repeated Jennifer dully.

‘Jenny, you have been taking this lying down, you lay down three months ago with him and you are still lying down, you have not gotten up, and you have to.’

‘I have to,’ said Jennifer.

Tully turned off the water and turned to her friend. ‘Yes, have to. You have no choice. Gotta do it, Jen. Just think, three months and you’re out of school, out of him, and then it’s summer! We work, we hang out, we go swimming in Lake Shawnee, and then it’s August and we’re off! Off we go. Hi-ho, hi-ho. Palo Al-to. A new life. I’m so excited. A beginning. So cheer up. And keep going. Come on, Jen. You’re stronger than all of us.’

‘No, Tully,’ said Jennifer. ‘You are stronger than all of us.’ Jennifer stood there blankly, her hands down at her sides.

The girls watched Love Story on the ‘Million Dollar Movie.’ They had seen it three times already, and the fourth time found them sitting and watching the flickering screen, absorbed in everything but Jenny Cavilleri’s death. Tully sat curled up on the couch entirely dry-eyed, entirely without movement as she looked unflinchingly and frightlessly at Oliver Barrett IV sitting at the Central Park ice skating rink without his Jennifer.

Tully’s own heart, however, was as frightened and tight as a narrow path in the dead of night in the dead of winter.

Jennifer did not even see Oliver sitting in Central Park. She was imagining Harvard and meeting someone like Oliver in Harvard. She tried to imagine holding her heart with both hands so it wouldn’t jump out of her chest for an Oliver in Harvard and drew a black blank. Instead, she remembered lying out in the middle of the night in her backyard on Sunset Court with Tully when they were kids. When they were about seven, eight, nine, ten. Eleven. Even twelve. Every summer, Tully would come over and make a tent in the backyard, and they would dig and twig, doodle and dawdle, talk and talk, and smell the Kansas night air.

‘Do you think the stars are this bright everywhere in the world, Tully?’

‘No, I think Kansas is closer to the stars than everywhere else in the world,’ said eight-year-old Tully.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because,’ said Tully, ‘Kansas is in the middle of America. And in the summer America is closest to the sun. Which means it’s closest to the rest of the sky, too. And Kansas, being in the middle, is the most closest.’

‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Positive,’ answered Tully.

Jennifer was quiet for a while, absorbing, thinking. ‘Tull, do you think the stars are still there when we go to sleep?’

‘Of course,’ said Tully.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because,’ said Tully slowly, ‘I see them all night long.’

‘You don’t see them when you sleep,’ argued Jennifer.

‘I don’t sleep,’ said Tully.

‘What do you mean, you don’t sleep?’

Now it was Tully’s turn to be quiet.

‘What do you do if you don’t sleep?’

‘I dream,’ said Tully. ‘I have…bad dreams a lot. So I wake up and look outside a lot.’

‘Much?’

‘Every night.’

Jennifer clicked the TV off, and the girls sat there in darkness, with only the blue light from the street coming in through the bay window.

‘Tully,’ said Jennifer hoarsely. ‘Tell me about your dream again.’

‘Which dream?’ Tully looked at Jen.

‘The rope dream.’

‘Oh, that old dream. Jennifer, I don’t wanna tell you about any of my dreams. You know them all.’

‘Humor me,’ said Jen. ‘Tell me again.’

Tully sighed. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Do you still have it?’

‘Yes, every once in a while.’

‘How often?’

‘I dreamed it a few weeks ago,’ said Tully.

‘Is it still the same?’ asked Jen.

‘It’s a little different,’ answered Tully.

‘What’s the same?’

‘The rope,’ said Tully. ‘The rope is always around my neck. I fall off the tree and pray that this time my neck would break so I won’t have to suffocate.’

‘Does it?’

‘Never. I just can’t breathe.’

Jennifer was quiet. ‘What’s different?’

‘The setting. Last time, I was in the desert. In a musty palm tree. I guess I’m thinking about California.’

Jennifer touched Tully with her fingers. ‘Did you like your palm tree? You’ve never seen one.’

‘Its bark was rough like a pineapple’s. It was pretty cool.’

‘Was the rope tight?’

Tully could not see Jennifer’s face.

‘It’s always around my neck,’ said Tully slowly. ‘When I fall, it’s tight.’

‘Did you suffocate?’ Jennifer was barely audible.

‘Yes, and then I woke up.’

‘Have you ever…died in your dreams?’

‘No. I don’t think you can. I think when you die in your dreams, you die in real life. No, people don’t die in their dreams.’

‘Not even you?’

‘Not even me,’ said Tully.

‘What stops you?’ asked Jennifer faintly.

‘I wanted a drink of water,’ said Tully. ‘I was really thirsty. I did not want to die. I wanted to drink. And then I wanted to go swimming.’

After a while, Jennifer said, ‘Well, at least you are getting out of the house.’

Tully smiled thinly. ‘Yeah. I used to do it in front of my mother, in the living room, and Aunt Lena would say, “Tully, can you move a little? You’re blocking the TV,” and my mother wouldn’t say anything at all.’

Jennifer stared into the dark. ‘I remember thinking you were sick for dreaming that. I remember thinking that you didn’t really want to die, you were just screaming for help.’

‘Yeah, screaming,’ said Tully. ‘Obviously loudly.’

‘To people who didn’t care,’ said Jennifer.

‘Hey, wait a minute. You’re talking about my mother here,’ said Tully. ‘And we all know how deeply she cares.’

‘Yes,’ said Jennifer. ‘Deeply.’

The girls said nothing for a little while and then Tully asked, ‘Jennifer, why are you asking me this? We haven’t talked about this in years. Why now?’

‘We haven’t talked about a lot of things in years.’

‘Like?’

‘Like why you stopped coming around here. Around me and Jule.’

‘I thought I told you.’

‘Yes, but you didn’t tell me why. Why, Tully?’

Tully didn’t answer. She thought back to the time she was twelve. And thirteen, and fourteen, and fifteen. 1973, 1974, 1975…Bicentennial. July 4, 1976, she went with Jennifer and Julie to watch the fireworks at Lake Shawnee. Tully had called up Jennifer. And Jennifer, as if nothing were wrong, invited her out, and Tully came. It wasn’t the first time in two and a half years the three of them got together, but it was the first time in two and a half years Tully did the calling.

Those years, thought Tully. It was as if I disappeared off the face of the earth. I did all the usual things; I went to school, I did my homework, I learned how to dance and made some new friends, and hung out and smoked, and danced in dance clubs and won some money to buy myself clothes. I occasionally slept and occasionally saw Jennifer and Julie. But I don’t myself know how I made it through those years. Certainly nothing worth repeating to this crazy person sitting next to me on the sofa.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. ‘Forget it. Tell me, do you think you love Robin? Honestly.’

Tully looked over at Jennifer’s shadow in the dark room.

‘I don’t particularly want to lose him,’ she said. ‘Is that love?’

‘Tully, have you ever loved any of the boys you’ve been with?’

Tully did not hesitate. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I haven’t. Not one. Not even remotely.’

‘Is that why you don’t cry at the end of Love Story?’ asked Jennifer. ‘Because you can’t imagine what it would be like to love someone?’

Tully patted Jennifer’s leg. ‘Who said I don’t cry at the end of Love Story?’

‘Tull, I’ve never in twelve years seen you cry.’

‘I don’t,’ said Tully, a brittle rock inside her chest, ‘cry much.’

‘Not even in front of me?’

‘Obviously not,’ said Tully, then giving in a little. ‘I try sometimes to…imagine loving somebody like that.’

‘Like Oliver loves Jenny?’ she asked.

‘No,’ said Tully, squeezing Jennifer’s leg. ‘That I understand. Because I love Jenny, too. I know what it’s like to love Jenny.’ Tully smiled. ‘I want to know what it’s like to love Oliver.’

Tully saw Jennifer press the tips of her fingers hard to her eyes and not let go, and Tully nearly wanted to press her own fingers to her eyes, to press out the image of Jennifer suppressing her demons.

They sat there silent and unmoving in the dark. Tick tock, tick tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

‘I want to go home, Jen,’ said Tully.

‘Come upstairs with me,’ Jennifer said. ‘Please.’

Tully went upstairs. And gasped when she saw Jen’s room: usually immaculate, it was now an unbelievable mess.

‘My God, Jennifer! Who lives here now? Not you!’

‘Well, I’ve been too busy to clean up.’

‘Busy. Of course,’ said Tully.

They sat on the bed next to each other. Jennifer looked at her feet and then pressed her fingertips to her eyes again, hard.

Tully sat on the unmade bed, next to her.

‘It’ll be all right, Mandolini,’ Tully said, feeling desperately helpless, nearly angry, when it came to all of Jennifer’s unreachable, untamable animals, baring their teeth at Tully’s meaningless comforts. Her words sounded dull and void even to herself. ‘Forget it…forget him, Jennifer Lynn Mandolini,’ whispered Tully. ‘Please. Forget him.’

But inside, Tully thought, Who cares about him? There is a whole life to be destroyed by or excited by. A whole fucking life.

Far off, Tully heard Jennifer speak.

‘What was that poem you wrote, Tully? Remember?’

‘No,’ Tully said quickly. ‘I wrote a couple of poems. The summer poem?’

‘I don’t know the summer poem,’ Jennifer said. ‘The disconsolate poem.’

Tully cleared her throat.

‘I used to sing

I used to be

Disconsolate, alone, yet free

Now that my soul has been encased

Whatever will become of me…?’

Jennifer closed her eyes. ‘That’s nice,’ she said. ‘Now tell me the summer poem.’

Tully moved slightly away on the bed. ‘Maybe some other time, okay, Jen?’

‘Okay, Tully,’ said Jennifer.

Tully’s heart gripped and ripped as she listened to Jennifer’s erratic breathing. A small scared thought ran darkly through her like a roach surprised by light. How’s Jen ever going to handle anything if she cannot handle something even this minor? Jen had always suspected there would come a time when she would be called upon to deal and wouldn’t be able to. No, I told her, don’t be absurd. Don’t be silly. Everything that happens only makes you stronger. Remember what Nietzsche said? ‘All that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ But yet, here she is, weaker than ever, and I cannot find the right words.

‘I want to go home, Jenny,’ said Tully finally.

Jennifer let Tully drive the Camaro home. They opened all the windows to let the wind in. The March air was cool, but it smelled like spring. As if everything were about to bloom.

‘Car handles well,’ said Tully.

‘Tully, you’ve never driven anything in your life,’ said Jennifer. ‘What do you know about handling?’

‘That’s not true,’ said Tully. ‘Robin lets me drive his Corvette.’

‘Yeah, in the parking lot,’ said Jennifer. ‘I’m sure you’re a real speed demon in the parking lot.’

At the Grove, the girls stood on the porch facing each other. ‘Jennifer,’ Tully said. ‘I’m going to ask you something, and I want you by God to answer me. Jennifer, are you screaming for help?’

Tully could hear Jennifer’s belabored breathing.

‘What a brave question, Tully,’ she finally said.

‘Give me a brave answer, Jennifer, don’t buy time, tell me right now, are you?’

‘No, Tully,’ Jennifer replied. ‘I’m not.’

‘Promise?’

‘I swear on our friendship.’

Tully stood right in front of Jennifer, looking brokenly at Jennifer’s thin face. After a moment, Tully’s right hand went around Jennifer’s head. Tully brought Jen’s face close and kissed her hard on the lips, pulled away, and then kissed her again.

‘Mandolini, I love you,’ Tully said, drained and in pain.

‘And I you, Tully.’

Friday, March 23, in school, Tully, Jennifer, and Julie sat together at lunch – a rare event. Jennifer usually sat with her cheerleader pals even though cheerleading season was long over. Tully thought Jennifer seemed brighter. The heaviness that clung to Tully lifted a little. That Friday night, the girls went to see The Deer Hunter.

‘I think it will win Best Picture,’ predicted Jennifer on the way home.

‘I think Coming Home will win,’ said Julie.

‘Oh, you’re joking!’ Tully laughed. ‘They couldn’t have been more heavy-handed in that film if they had tied you to a post and beat you over the head repeatedly with a ‘War is b-b-b-a-a-a-a-d-d-d’ shovel.’

‘Oh, and here, killing Nick in the last five minutes of the movie, when we were all thinking he was gonna make it, what is that, huh? That’s not heavy-handed?’

‘I didn’t think he was gonna make it,’ said Jennifer, keeping her eyes on the road. ‘I thought from the beginning he would die. He wanted to be so strong,’ she said evenly. ‘He wanted to be as strong as Michael, but he just wasn’t, no matter how he tried, and he tried really hard. In the end, he just lost faith.’

‘Yeah, but Stephen made it,’ said Julie. ‘And he was the weakest of the bunch.’

‘Stephen never even tried to be strong,’ said Jennifer. ‘It wasn’t important to him like it was to Nick. To Stephen, Michael was so far out in the stratosphere, to be respected certainly, but never to be understood. But Nick wanted to be as strong as Michael and in the end was shattered by his own weakness.’

Julie waved her off from the backseat. ‘I don’t think Michael was so strong. I think he pretended to be strong.’

Jennifer shook her head. ‘No. He was strong through and through. He was invulnerable.’

‘Nobody is invulnerable, Jen,’ said Tully thickly. ‘It’s a myth.’

‘I think you’re reading too much into it, Jen,’ Julie said.

‘Yeah, but unlike with Coming Home, we’re actually able to read something into it,’ said Tully. ‘I agree with Jennifer. Deer Hunter will win.’

‘When are the Oscars?’ asked Julie.

‘Monday, April ninth,’ said Jennifer.

‘Well, we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?’ said Julie. ‘And the loser buys lunch.’

Julie was dropped off first, and when Jennifer parked in front of Tully’s house, she folded her hands across her chest, hung her head, and said, ‘Maybe you like me too much, Tully.’

Tully turned her face away from Jennifer. The fog around Tully was so dense, she could not see well. She blinked, trying to blink back the aching that, like anchors, weighed down her eyes. Shaking her head in short, convulsive strokes, Tully said quietly, ‘I definitely like you too much, Jennifer, I definitely like you way too much, but…’ Tully paused, ‘what does that have to do with anything?’

‘I wish,’ said Jennifer, ‘that maybe you wouldn’t like me quite so much.’

Tully’s head did not stop shaking. ‘Don’t be so concerned. Do we seem close to you? We’re close with Julie, too.’

‘Not that close,’ said Jennifer. ‘You and me are too close.’

‘What’s wrong with close?’ whispered Tully. ‘Everything will be okay, Jen.’

‘I just wish you wouldn’t be so attached to me, Tully,’ said Jennifer a little stridently. ‘I just wish you wouldn’t be.’

‘Okay, Jen,’ said Tully, ‘I won’t be.’

‘Promise me you won’t be?’ said Jennifer.

‘I promise, Jennifer,’ said Tully, her throat so tight she was surprised any words could get through, even little ones. ‘I won’t be.’

Saturday, March 24, Tully, Jennifer, and Julie went to watch Tom pitch his first baseball game of the season. His team won 11 –9.

Jennifer was talkative and cheerful. She narrated Tom’s game, much to Tully’s superficial amusement, and afterwards ate a double scoop of strawberry and chocolate ice cream. Even when she saw Jack with Shakie Lamber on his arm, Jennifer did not flinch. Tully watched her. Jennifer did not say hi or look Jack’s way. Only her unblinking eyes gave away the remains of her soul.

Sunday, March 25, Jennifer as usual picked up Tully and drove her to church, and then to The Village Inn. Rather, Jennifer let Tully drive the Camaro to St Mark’s and to The Village Inn.

‘I really like my car, Tully,’ said Jennifer. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Great car,’ said Tully. ‘Great fucking car.’

‘I’ve really come to like it,’ said Jennifer.

Yes, all the Stanford jocks, Tully wanted to say, will go crazy over you in your Camaro, shiny and baby-blue.

Sunday night, Jennifer sat between her mom and dad and watched the ‘ABC Sunday Night Movie’ with them. Afterwards, she said, ‘Mom, Dad, I’m sorry, but I’m just not going to make valedictorian this year.’

Lynn and Tony exchanged looks. ‘We know. We understand. It’s okay, honey. Honestly,’ said Lynn.

‘I haven’t been feeling very happy, lately,’ continued Jennifer. ‘As I’m sure you’ve noticed. And my grades have suffered.’ She breathed in deeply.

‘Are you okay, Jen?’ Lynn asked. ‘Do you want to go see…someone?’

‘Like who?’ said Jennifer.

‘Like Dr Collins. Your breathing…it sounds…not so good.’

Jennifer smirked. ‘Maybe. Yes. We could do that. I am having a little trouble catching my breath.’

Tony said, ‘What about maybe talking to him about, you know, to see if, you know –’ he broke off.

‘If I’m slipping back again, Dad? Don’t worry. You guys love me so much, and I love you back so much, I’m sure I’ll be fine. Teenage blues, you know.’

‘Oh, honey, don’t we know!’ exclaimed Lynn. ‘We’ve all been there. You’ll be all right.’

‘I know I will, Mom,’ said Jennifer. ‘And anyway,’ she added, ‘the good news is that I haven’t lost any of my hair like Dad.’

‘Good news indeed.’ Tony smiled.

Jennifer then kissed her mom and dad good night and went upstairs. She brushed her teeth and washed her face. Then she took a long shower, washing her hair four times and deep-conditioning it. She shaved her legs, from her ankles to her thighs, and her underarms, too. After the shower, she put on Oil of Olay all over her body, taking particular care of her face. When she put on an extra long T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear, she got on the scale. The two-digit number above the black line read 89.

She was having trouble sleeping. So she spent the next two or three hours quietly cleaning up her records and books, picking up her strewn-about papers, putting away her magazines, and throwing out dirty paper plates from months ago when she was still eating. Around two in the morning, Jennifer opened the window, moving the curtains out of the way so that the fresh air could get through, and got into bed. She lay on her back, hands under her head, looked up at the ceiling, and remembered that she hadn’t called Tully tonight. Just as well, she thought. Reaching under the bed, she pulled out her notebook journal and flipped it open.

Tully, wrote Jennifer in the dark,

It breaks my heart to break your heart, my Tully, my Natalie Anne Makker, my faithful friend. But Tully, I assure you, you would not have wanted me to live my life out with my soul such a screaming raging zoo. You would not have wanted me to live my life out in such pain. You taught me all I know about caging the animals that run rampant inside me, for the monsters have been running rampant inside you for years. But strength is not like a will: you cannot will it to me. And though you tried to teach me, you could never give me any of your strength. Which is really good, because now God is going to call upon you to summon all your strength, all your iron-clad, gritted-teeth, clenched-fisted will to pull through. And pull through you will have to. Cope you will. I’m sorry, though, Tully. It seems that we all have done nothing but break your poor heart…

She scribbled a few more lines and then shoved the journal back under the bed, flinging her head back on the pillow. Jennifer started counting sheep, and sleep came before the twenty-seventh sheep jumped over the fence.

Monday morning, March 26, Jennifer was not in homeroom. After homeroom, Tully pulled Julie aside and said, ‘Jennifer was not in homeroom.’

‘I know. I’m in the same homeroom, remember?’

‘Where is she?’ said Tully.

‘How should I know? Home sick.’

‘Let’s call her,’ said Tully.

They called from the downstairs cafeteria. Tully let it ring twenty times before she hung up. ‘Let’s call her mother,’ she said tensely.

‘Oh, great, Tull!’ exclaimed Julie. ‘Let’s call Mrs Mandolini and tell her her daughter is not home and not in homeroom.’

‘Well, where is she, then?’ asked Tully.

‘Maybe she’s taking a shower,’ replied Julie. ‘Maybe she has the music on so loud that she doesn’t hear us – ’

‘Impossible,’ interrupted Tully. ‘The stereo is unplugged.’

‘Why is it unplugged?’

‘She says because she doesn’t listen to it that much any more and she doesn’t want it using passive electricity.’

‘Passive electricity?’

‘That’s what she says,’ answered Tully. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘What’s the matter with you? I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I’m going to Health.’

‘Julie.’

‘Tully! What kind of a face is that? You are out of your mind! Listen to me. She is taking a shower. She is listening to music. She plugged it back in. She went shopping. She went for a drive. She went to Kansas City. She’s a big girl.’

Tully stood motionless. ‘Come with me, Jule,’ she said.

‘Tully, I’m going to Health. I’ll talk to you at lunch,’ said Julie, and ran to class.

Tully continued to stand there. She then slowly went to her locker, stashed her books, and left the school. Outside, she thought of calling Robin and asking him to come and get her. But it was a feeble thought, and Tully dismissed it, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. What am I going to say to him anyway? Robin, please come and drive me to Sunset Court? I just don’t want to be alone going to Sunset Court. In fact, I don’t want to go to Sunset Court at all. Robin, please come and drive me to a desert, drive me to a palm tree, drive me to drink, but just drive me away from Sunset Court, Robin. Tully sat down on the bench outside the side entrance, sat there motionless for such a long time that the sun moved from the bottom of the trees in the courtyard to near the top of the sky before she got up and crossed 10th Street. She trod to Sunset Court with her shoulders as squared as possible. On the way, Tully studiously counted every car that went by, numbering them at fifty-seven by the time she walked up to Jennifer’s house.

Walking past the garage, she held herself tighter with her arms and continued on to the back gate. She sat herself down at the picnic table, arms folded around herself, unyielding, shaking arms, gripping her around the chest, and sat there looking at the grass until she heard the car door slam in the front. Tully ran to the driveway, but it was not Jennifer’s Camaro, only Mrs Mandolini’s Chrysler Plymouth.

‘Tully, what are you doing here, what’s wrong?’

‘Oh, nothing, Mrs Mandolini.’

‘Tully, you’re ashen. What’s the matter? Is everything all right at home?’

My home? My home is wonderful, here it goes, here it goes, here it falls right now, right here, here we are, I am going to turn around and walk out of this house and I am never going to come back. I just cannot stand here in front of her.

‘Want some lunch?’ Lynn walked business-like into the kitchen, swung open the fridge, and pulled out the Tupperware bowl of tuna salad.

‘I’m glad you’re here. You haven’t talked to me in some time. I feel very close to you, Tully. You’ve been very dear to me, but you know that, of course.’

‘Of course,’ mouthed Tully, to whom Lynn Mandolini’s voice sounded as far away as Zaire and just as black.

‘And to Mr Mandolini, too, despite how he acts sometimes. Want something to eat?’ Lynn asked Tully with her mouth full.

‘Mrs Mandolini,’ said Tully, putting her hands to her throat. ‘Do you know if Jen’s car is in the garage?’

‘Well, of course it is, we always put it there overnight.’

‘Could you check, please?’ Tully asked, trying to keep the raw edge out of her voice. But Lynn must have seen something in Tully, heard something from Tully because she put down her sandwich – though not her Marlboro – and said, ‘Tully, where is Jennifer?’

‘Not in school,’ said Tully. ‘I’m thinking maybe she went shopping or something.’

‘Playing hooky from school? Jennifer?’ Lynn shrugged her shoulders and picked up her tuna sandwich. ‘Well, I suppose anything’s possible,’ she said, her mouth full.

They walked outside to the garage. Lynn turned the key and Tully closed her eyes, wanting not to see. She heard the garage door pull slowly up. When Tully opened her eyes, she saw a brand-new 1978 Camaro, shiny and baby-blue.

Tully did not move and neither did Lynn. Nothing moved except for the ash on Lynn’s cigarette, which broke off and fell to the floor.

‘Gee,’ said Lynn. ‘I wonder where she could be. Where do you think she could be, Tully?’

Tully did not hear her. She was holding on to a low tool shelf, keeping herself steady, and was stunned at the anger that swam over her. Yes. Anger. Fucking, naked anger. Goddamn it, Jennifer, goddamn it, couldn’t you at least go out on the open road, couldn’t you do at least that, to spare us all just a little? Just a fucking little?

‘Tully, where do you think she could be?’ said Lynn, a little more urgently.

Tully looked up at her, met her gaze head-on, and said as calmly as she could, ‘She is in the house, Mrs Mandolini.’ But when she let go of the shelf, her legs gave out under her, and she collapsed to the cement floor.

‘Tully! What’s the matter with you, are you sick?’ said Lynn, helping her up with one hand, the other one still holding on to the Marlboro. ‘You look so awful, why don’t you come in. I’ll have Jen drive you home.’

Tully struggled up. She thought wretchedly as she walked back into the house that if Jennifer wanted to drive, she would have already driven off somewhere. But the car! The car was in the garage.

‘Jennifer!’ yelled Lynn Mandolini at the foot of the stairs. ‘Come and have something to eat. Jenny Lynn!’

There was no answer. Lynn looked at Tully, who was clutching on to the banister. Lynn went up first. Tully trailed behind her. ‘I hope she is all right,’ said Lynn. ‘She hasn’t been feeling well these past couple of days. But it’s so strange. She seemed perfectly fine this morning. Very chipper and everything. Ate a big breakfast.’ Upstairs, the door to Jennifer’s room was shut and so were all the other doors upstairs, making the hallway a dark tunnel. Tully came to stand near Jennifer’s bedroom door.

‘Tully! Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to open the door?’ She walked past Tully and turned the knob.

Jennifer’s room was empty. They both walked in. It was not only empty, it was spotlessly clean. The bed was made, the floor was vacuumed, the window was halfway open. The books and records were in their places.

‘Wow, when did she do that?’ Lynn wondered. ‘Last night it was really messy.’

Tully sat down on Jennifer’s bed. Her hands were wet. ‘This morning. She did it this morning.’

‘What, instead of going to school?’ Lynn said. ‘Well, maybe. I thought you said she was in the house.’

Tully pressed her fingertips to her eyes so hard that when she stopped she saw red spots. ‘Mrs Mandolini. She is not in school and her car is in the garage.’

‘But she is not in the house, either, Tully,’ said Lynn, sounding slightly irritated. ‘Listen, my lunch hour is almost over.’

‘Mrs Mandolini,’ said Tully. ‘Jennifer is in the house.’

‘Tully, the house is completely quiet except for you and me. She can’t be in the house. Where could she be?’

‘Did you try the bathroom?’ Tully said faintly, hating Jennifer at that moment.

Lynn Mandolini started to breathe very hard. ‘There is no noise in the bathroom,’ she said. ‘Why would she be in the bathroom?’

Tully carefully got off the bed, slowly walked past Mrs Mandolini across the hall, and put her hand on the bathroom doorknob.

The door was locked.

Tully stepped away and sank to her knees. ‘She is in the bathroom,’ said Tully, putting her hands to her face.

‘Don’t be absurd,’ said Lynn. ‘Here, let me try. It’s probably just stuck, it sticks sometimes.’

The bathroom door was locked.

‘Jenny?’ said Lynn.

Tully bit down on her lip until she tasted salt and metal.

‘Jenny Lynn,’ said Mrs Mandolini, knocking on the door. ‘Jenny Lynn, honey, open the door, what’s the matter? Honey, please open the door, Jenny Lynn. Jenny Lynn? Jennifer! Open the door! Open the door, Jennifer! Open the goddamn door!’

Tully knelt with her eyes closed, her hands to her ears, mumbling incoherently to herself, ‘Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…’ all the while listening to Mrs Mandolini’s weeping voice, to her body thudding against the door, to her crying, ‘Jenny Lynn, Jenny Lynn! Honey, please! Open the door for Mommy! Open the door for your mommy, Jenny Lynn!’

Mrs Mandolini ran stumbling downstairs, got a screwdriver, ran back up, knelt down in front of the door handle, and started to frantically unscrew the lock, her right hand on the screwdriver, her left wiping her face, and all the while muttering, ‘Jenny Lynn, Jenny, it will be all right, honey, it will be all right.’

Behind her, Tully clasped her hands. ‘…Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven…’

Lynn got one screw out and before the other one was out she shoved the door open with her shoulder as Tully lowered her head and clenched her trembling hands. ‘…Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those…’

Tully’s eyes were shut tight, but she was not deaf, and only the deaf and the dead did not hear Lynn Mandolini scream and scream and scream when she pushed open the bathroom door and found her daughter.