Читать книгу Tully - Paullina Simons - Страница 29

At Carlos O’Kelly’s, the manager, a small, pretty Guatemalan woman named Sylvia Vasquez, tried Tully out in the part of the restaurant that did not serve alcohol. The tips were smaller, but it was slower, too; more to Tully’s speed, since she had never worked as a waitress.

Sylvia gave Tully a cute outfit – a solid blue shirt and a short, flowery cotton skirt. The first week Tully worked three nights, and with a salary of $1 an hour and tips made about $60. It was Tully’s very first $60 that she had made at a real job – a real job that did not involve dancing or running errands for Lynn Mandolini or babysitting. The second week, she made $80; the third, Sylvia gave Tully an extra ten hours and she made $120.

Tully continued to live in the trailer, having moved most of Tracy’s stuff to the spare room that once was Damien’s.

When Robin saw the trailer for the first time, he could not hide his disappointment.

‘Tully, why in heaven’s name would you want to live in a dump like this?’ he asked her.

‘It’s not a dump,’ Tully said defensively. ‘I cleaned and painted it. It doesn’t smell anymore. It’s only a hundred dollars a month. And for now, it’s all mine. How many trailers can you say that about?’

‘Tully, you have my whole house. Five bedrooms, a pool, a maid, and all freshly painted,’ said Robin. ‘Why would you choose this instead of that?’

‘Because this,’ said Tully, ‘is dirty, cheap, near the railroad, and all mine. How many places can you say that about?’

‘Who the fuck wants to be near the railroad?’ He grimaced. ‘When will it be time to get away from the railroad?’

‘Can I get away from the railroad?’ Tully wanted to know. ‘I’m a railroad girl, after all.’

Robin just sighed.

August was nearly at an end when Julie came to visit Tully at Carlos O’Kelly’s. Ordering a chimichanga and a Coke, Julie said, ‘I haven’t seen you for a while.’

‘No,’ said Tully, looking intently into her order pad. ‘I’ve been real busy. Will that be a Diet or a regular Coke?’

‘Make it regular,’ said Julie. ‘So Tom left for Brown a week ago.’

‘Oh,’ said Tully, going to clear off the adjacent table. ‘How do you feel about that?’

‘I don’t know. We haven’t spoken since he left.’

‘Now, there’s a surprise,’ said Tully.

‘Here’s a surprise for you,’ said Julie. ‘I don’t even miss him.’

‘What’s to miss?’ said Tully.

‘Tom and I used to talk a lot,’ said Julie, adding, ‘More than you and me.’

Everybody talks more than you and me, Jule, Tully wanted to say.

‘But that’s not why I don’t miss him,’ said Julie.

I know why you don’t miss him, thought Tully, but didn’t say anything.

When Julie finished eating and paid up, she waited for Tully to come out of the kitchen. The girls stood awkwardly near the front doorway.

‘Tully, I’ve come to say good-bye,’ said Julie. ‘I’m leaving for Northwestern tomorrow.’

Tully tried to smile. ‘Oh, well, that’s great, Jule. That’s great. Listen, I’m sure you’ll have a good time. Be sure to write, you hear?’

Julie looked at her bitterly. ‘Yeah, sure, Tully. You, too, okay?’

They hugged each other quickly and moved away.

‘Where are you living now, Tully?’ asked Julie. ‘Are you back home?’

Tully rolled her eyes. ‘No way. I’m right across the street,’ she said. ‘At the trailer park.’

Julie stared at Tully. ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Well, that’s great. Listen, I gotta go. Take care, will you?’

Tully watched her go out the doors and then went back to her tables.

‘Tully! Tully Makker, right?’

Tully stared blankly into a blithely cheerful face.

‘Remember me? Shakie. Shakie Lamber.’

‘How could I forget you, Shakie Lamber?’ replied Tully. ‘You were Topeka High’s Homecoming Queen.’

‘Yeah, that’s it! And Prom Queen, too, but I didn’t see you at the prom.’

‘I didn’t go,’ said Tully.

‘Didn’t go to your prom? Wow!’ said Shakie. Then, ‘Did you go on the Senior Trip?’

‘Noooo,’ said Tully, already weary. ‘How was Denver?’

‘What a city!’ said Shakie.

‘I’ll bet,’ said Tully. She liked working at Carlos O’Kelly’s, but she sure did run into many of the people she went to high school with. Too many.

‘So how’s it working for this place, Tully? Not too difficult?’

‘No, it’s great. Piece of cake,’ said Tully.

‘Good,’ said Shakie. ‘Because I think I’m gonna apply for a job here. While I’m going to beauty school,’ she added.

‘On the other hand, Shakie,’ said Tully, ‘the hours are horrendous and you have to clean your own tables and the customers don’t tip too good, and –’

‘You’ll help me with this, won’t you?’ said Shakie. ‘I’ve never had a job before.’ She leaned closer to Tully. ‘Not even babysitting.’

‘Great,’ mumbled Tully under her breath.

Shakie got hired and for the first few weeks, Sylvia had her ‘shadowing’ Tully, who couldn’t avoid her. Much as she tried.

‘Shakie,’ Tully would say, ‘you’re going to have to stack your dirty plates, you just can’t carry them out one by one. The tables remain dirty too long and you’re wasting time.’

‘Well, I just can’t do that yet, Tully. I’m new at this. I’ll get it right,’ Shakie would say, and throw her blond mane back. Sylvia finally had to ask Shakie to keep it in a ponytail after one customer left Shakie a $5 bill but commented that he would have preferred a little less hair in his burrito.

Shakie didn’t have a car and usually would wait for her mother to come pick her up. One Saturday night in October, Tully offered to drive Shakie home.

The girls walked across Kansas Avenue to Tully’s trailer. ‘You live here?’ said Shakie.

‘Yeah,’ said Tully. ‘What about it?’

‘It’s real nice,’ said Shakie. ‘And it’s all yours. Must be great.’

‘Shakie…what kind of a name is that?’ Tully asked her when they were on their way.

‘Shakira,’ answered Shakie. ‘I think Mom was expecting an Indian baby. What kind of a name is Tully?’

‘Natalie,’ Tully gave her stock answer. ‘My brother couldn’t pronounce it properly.’ How ironic, Tully thought. I’m asking her what kind of a name she has. Shakira. She’s putting me on.

‘Oh, you got a brother?’ she asked, but before Tully had a chance to respond, Shakie said, ‘I have three brothers. All older. I’m the youngest. The baby of the family.’

‘Swell,’ said Tully.

‘Nice car,’ Shakie said, touching the seats and the dashboard. ‘You make enough money at Carlos to afford a car like this?’

Tully waited, breathed, counted to five. Then she spoke. ‘No, it was a gift.’

‘What, by your folks? Nice parents. We got too many kids in my family, no one has anything newer than 1975. I don’t even have a car yet.’

The girls chatted a while longer.

‘Thanks a lot, Tull,’ said Shakie, opening the door, and Tully winced.

‘Is it okay if I call you Tull?’

Tully nodded her head slowly. ‘Rhymes with gull, right?’ she said. ‘Why not? I love birds. My boyfriend’s name is Robin.’

‘Great,’ said Shakie. ‘Listen, are you busy tomorrow? If it’s a nice day, we’re having a barbecue. Come if you can.’

Tully thanked her for the offer and said she would make it if she could.

Luckily it rained on Sunday and the decision was spared her.

‘So, Shakie,’ asked Tully one Saturday night when she was driving her home again and the girls stopped at the Green Parrot, ‘Who are you going out with these days?’

‘Oh, just here and there,’ said Shakie absentmindedly, and then leaned over to Tully and said, ‘Don’t tell my Mom or anything, but I’m waiting for Jack to come back.’

‘Oh,’ said Tully coldly. ‘Where is Jack nowadays?’

‘Oh, Jack.’ Shakie shook her head. ‘He is somewhere. Nowhere. Anywhere.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know. Didn’t he have a football scholarship to someplace or other?’ asked Shakie.

‘Why are you asking me?’ Tully said. ‘You went to the prom with him. How should I know?’

‘Well, nobody knows for sure. I think he had a scholarship to a college in California. Palo Alto or something. I don’t think he went.’

‘Ahh,’ breathed Tully, her lips suddenly numb. She tried to bite them. Palo Alto! Palo Alto. My God, my God.

‘Don’t you keep in touch with him?’ Tully asked after long minutes passed. Tully was grateful for the dimness of the Green Parrot.

Shakie laughed. ‘In touch? Nah. He is out there finding himself. People who are finding themselves are always out of touch. So how come you didn’t go to the prom?’ Shakie asked Tully.

Finding himself? Tully thought.

Shakie repeated her question.

Tully shrugged. ‘Didn’t feel like it.’

‘Didn’t feel like going to your own Senior Prom? Wow!’ exclaimed Shakie. ‘We had a bitchin’ time. Bitchin’. Jack and I were King and Queen.’

Oh, I’m sure, thought Tully. I’m so sure you were, Shakie Lamber, cheerleader and Homecoming Queen.

Shakie took a sip of her Miller Lite. ‘I’ll tell you something, Tully, because you’re a friend. I was pretty crazy about that Jack.’

‘No kidding,’ said Tully weakly.

Shakie smiled. ‘Well, he certainly had some craze-inducing parts to him, yes, I can tell you that right now.’ She ordered another drink. ‘But he is gone. I think it was just this high school thing between us. But! I keep hoping, nothing wrong with that, right? Oh, I’m not just sitting on my behind, though, Tully. I’m going to beauty school. The Topeka School of Cosmetology. I want to work at Macy’s. In the fine makeup department. Chanel or something like that.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ said Tully. She finished her beer in two gulps. ‘Listen, it’s kind of late. I gotta get to sleep. Let’s go.’

Tully and Robin were invited to Shakie’s for Thanksgiving, 1979. Robin didn’t go; he was spending the holiday with his brothers.

Tully went alone and met Shakie’s three brothers, her huge six-foot-six lumberjack of a dad, and her five-foot-nothing mom, who got all the male Lambers to help her with dinner by screaming at them at the top of her lungs, while Shakie sat with Tully in the living room.

‘I’m the youngest and the only girl,’ Shakie explained. ‘I never have to do anything.’

‘Martha! Dinner!’ yelled Shakie’s mom.

‘Martha? Who’s Martha?’ asked Tully.

Shakie laughed uncomfortably. ‘Oh, that’s me,’ she said. ‘Martha Louise Lamber.’ And when they got to the dinner table, Shakie whispered fiercely to her mother, ‘Shakie, Ma, Shakie!’

A few days later in Tully’s trailer, Robin asked, ‘So, is Shakie a replacement friend?’

‘Replacement for who?’ snapped Tully.

Robin looked away. ‘For Julie,’ he said. ‘Maybe for me.’

‘Certainly not for you, Robin,’ Tully answered. ‘But Julie is far away. I can’t help it if Shakie likes me. We’re not that close, though.’

‘You’re not that close with anyone,’ said Robin.

‘No,’ said Tully, ‘1 guess I’m not. Still, though, what a brave thing to say to me, Robin DeMarco.’

‘Do you like Shakie?’ Robin asked.

‘What’s not to like?’ said Tully. ‘And as if I have other options. What would you like, Robin, for me not to be friends with anyone but you?’

Robin sighed and made room for her in the bed, pulling the quilt over both of them. ‘As if what I wanted really mattered, Tully,’ he said.

‘Jack is back!’ said Shakie happily as the girls started their Saturday night shift.

It was nearing Christmas.

‘He is, is he?’ said Tully. ‘Why?’

‘Oh,’ said Shakie, brushing her hair in the middle of the restaurant, ‘His dad died. So he’s back! Sounds like a song, doesn’t it? “I’ve been waiting to happen/till Jack comes back!/Now, Jack is back/and I’m ready to happen/Jack is back/and it’s straight in the sack!”’ She sang and danced and flung her blond mane all around the empty tables.

Tully watched her and then laughed. ‘Shakie, you are so full of shit.’

‘He really is back, Tully,’ Shakie said seriously.

‘No, that’s not it. What about all that bullshit that it was just a high school thing?’

Shakie shrugged and smiled. ‘You’re right. It was bullshit.’

‘Besides, his father died, how can you be so happy?’ said Tully.

‘Well, he’s gonna need a lot of cheering up, ain’t he?’ replied Shakie, gleaming. ‘And I mean a lot of cheering up!’ She giggled and jumped up in the air.

Tully laughed despite herself.

She saw him a few days later when he came to pick up Shakie. Shakie’s station was full, so Sylvia sat him down at one of Tully’s empty tables. Tully came up to him, real calm, real cool. ‘What can I get you?’ she asked. He looked the same as ever. Better. Sun-drenched, blond, and hard. But Tully’s eyes were all fogged up like wet glasses.

‘How are you?’ he asked Tully.

‘Oh, all right, getting along, couldn’t be better.’ She tried not to blink and not look at him, either, while her heart gripped and ripped her.

‘What can I get you?’ she repeated, her voice cold.

He reached out and touched her fingers, lightly. ‘I’m sorry, Tully,’ he said. ‘I am. So sorry.’

He said that at graduation, too. Sought her out – cornered her, almost – and said, ‘I’m sorry, Tully. I’m so sorry.’ Now, as then, his serious, intent face made her speechless.

‘Oooohhh, Jackie!’ squealed Shakie, throwing herself and her hair all over Jack, kissing him and giggling. Jack rubbed Shakie’s back. ‘All right, all right, what’s gotten into you?’ he said.

Tully left them and finished her tables, married some ketchups, and filled some saltshakers and sugar bowls. She kept her eyes on her unsteady hands.

‘Tully, do you need a ride?’ he asked her on his way out.

God! I wish he didn’t know my name, she thought.

‘You must be joking!’ said Shakie before Tully could answer. ‘She’s got the most brilliant car. A 1978 blue Camaro. She should be asking you if you need a ride.’ Jack stared at Tully so hard and so sad that she wanted to smash his face in. Smash his face in or break down right in front of him and his girl.

A week later, Shakie walked over to Tully’s trailer after work. She entered, sat down, and burst into tears.

Tully rolled her eyes. Walking over slowly, she sat carefully on the corner of the sofa. She wanted to put her arm around Shakie but just couldn’t do it.

‘What’s the matter. Shake? He leave?’

Shakie nodded, crying. ‘Going to.’

Tully rubbed her hands together. Clenched her fists, unclenched them.

‘I thought he’d be staying, I thought maybe he would stay,’ Shakie was muttering. ‘But no, he had to go, he said, had to go back. Didn’t want to be back here anymore, he said.’ She continued to cry, and Tully continued to sit there and say nothing. They sat for a long time, until it got too much for Tully, just too fucking much, and she said, ‘Shakie, I’m really sorry, because I like you and wish I could be a better friend to you now that you need someone, but I can’t make you feel better about this. Do you understand?’

Shakie wiped her eyes and looked at Tully.

‘Shakie,’ continued Tully, cracking her knuckles, ‘I will cover your ass for Sylvia, and I will clean your tables, and I will drive you home. I will help you with anything else, but I cannot help you with this. I just can’t, please understand. I just can’t help you.’

Shakie stared at her.

‘Powerless!’ exclaimed Tully. ‘Yes, powerless, and helpless. And I cannot stand to see you cry over this!’ she screamed suddenly and stood up. Tully’s face was a mask of pain and Shakie just sat on the bed, astonished. Tully pressed her clenched fists to her eyes and whispered, ‘I cannot stand to see you cry over him.’

It was a while before Tully took her hands away from her face. ‘Please be a friend to me, don’t do this in front of me, Shakie, okay? Otherwise I really won’t be able to be friends with you anymore. Okay?’

‘Okay, okay,’ Shakie said quickly, getting up and coming close to Tully. ‘Okay,’ she repeated, and went to hug Tully, who backed away.

It was dark but Tully wasn’t afraid. After Shakie left, Tully drove up to St Mark’s, parked the car, and walked around back. The gate screeched when she opened it, badly needing oiling. Making her way carefully through the backyard, Tully stopped near a wrought-iron chair, which had been brought out by Father Majette when he had found Tully lying on the ground. ‘God doesn’t distinguish between the dead and the living, my child,’ he had said. ‘He loves both equally. You’re still living, Natalie Anne. You wouldn’t want our Lord to mistake you for the dead, lying as you do among them.’

Only barely, thought Tully, moving the chair out of the way and lying down on the December Kansas ground. Only barely living, she thought, lying down in her coat and scarf and gloves next to a flat gravestone embedded in the earth. She ran her fingers carefully and gently over the cold stone.