Cyclone

by Doreen Cronin

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I’m sure.”

  “All right then, girl. You be careful. Wait for the light next time.”

  “I will,” I promised. “Thanks again,” I called after her. I watched her walk away toward the parking lot. She turned back around one more time. To be sure.

  I took a few deep breaths, head down, eyes on my feet. I had to call Uncle Pete back. But I had to talk to Riley first. If only she wanted to talk to me.

  * * *

  44 I said the real words. Screamed them.

  DAY 14 1/2

  My legs were too shaky for the stairs. In the elevator, I hit the button for ten—the PICU—instead of eight, where Riley was now. I wanted to sit in the family room, eat a doughnut, wait for Monica, and then spill my guts. To finally take her up on her invitation to listen. But the doors opened and there was no one. No Jack. No Monica. Just the happy blue river on the floor and the usual buzz of activity. I didn’t get out.

  * * *

  “Hey! There you are!” There was a crowd outside Riley’s room. Aunt Maureen was verging on giddy. “Great news! It’s official! Riley’s coming home on Monday!!” She proceeded to tell me every detail.

  “We don’t think she’s quite ready for school, but there’s a good chance she’ll be able to go back after Christmas break—after some rehabilitation, of course!” I gave my brightest smile and was genuinely, deeply happy and relieved for Aunt Maureen—and for Riley. “Go on in there and give her a big going-home hug!!” Right. Riley would love that. But Aunt Mo was on a roll, and she grabbed me and pulled me into the room with her.

  “Congratulations, Riley,” I said, my bright smile still shining.

  Riley gave me forced half smile but didn’t answer me.

  “Riley, don’t be rude. Nora is standing right here and she’s talking to you.” Aunt Mo was back to treating Riley like 100 percent Riley. Before she could take it any further, my mother called Aunt Maureen into the hallway. Aunt Elayne was busy with the New York Times and had barely said a word either. She knew something was up with Riley and me, but she had decided to stay out of it.

  Clearly, Riley didn’t want me there any more than I wanted to be there. No tomato soupin’. She definitely did not want to talk to me, but I needed to talk to her . . . about her father. Tell her what happened. That I’d been wrong, and now I knew the truth. But I wanted to do it privately. Because I was not keeping it all to myself this time. If Riley didn’t tell her mother, then I felt like I had to do it. It was pretty clear that she was afraid of Aunt Maureen finding out. Otherwise, why the code name? Why the terror on her face when her mother grabbed the phone during our fight? If she was hiding her relationship with her father, there had to be a reason. I wanted to understand what was really happening.

  I avoided my regular seat next to Riley and stood against the wall. Sophia wasn’t in her bed, so the curtain was pulled back and I could stare out the window, as if something interesting was going on outside. But I could sense Riley’s eyes on me.

  “Excited to go home?” I asked her. She shrugged and closed her eyes. Didn’t want to talk to me, and now didn’t want to look at me.

  But now Aunt Elayne wanted help with her crossword puzzle. “Five-letter word, starts with B. An emblem that signifies your status. Hmmm . . .”

  “Um, don’t know,” I muttered.45

  “You’re not much help, are you?” she asked.

  “No,” Riley blurted out. “No help.”

  Aunt Elayne chuckled, thinking Riley was making a joke. “Maybe you can help me with this instead of Nora! I’m sure it would be a good brain exercise for you.” She scooted her chair toward the head of the bed so Riley could see the puzzle. She didn’t seem to notice when Riley shot me a dirty look before she turned her attention to the newspaper. How was I going to get Aunt Elayne out of the room?

  I went right for the truth. “I really need to talk to Riley about something. Could you . . . would you mind leaving us alone for just one minute?” I peeked over at Riley, but she was staring down at the crossword puzzle she was holding a little too close to her face. Avoiding me.

  “Your mother will kill me.” Aunt Elayne hesitated, but something in my voice or in my face convinced her. She stood up. “I’ll be right out in the hall. . . .”

  “No!” Riley cried out. “Not you!” She sat straight up and glared at me. Aunt Elayne, to her credit, didn’t flinch. She shifted her eyes from me to Riley. “Not you,” Riley went on. “Not you.”

  Riley grabbed Aunt Elayne’s pen right out of her hand and flipped (very quickly, I might add) through the ORB. She held the pen in her fist like a little kid and began scratching at something. Then turned the book around angrily, so I could see.

  “You out! You OUT!” she barked.

  Aunt Elayne dropped the newspaper on the bed. “What the . . . ? Riley? Calm down!”

  “Fine,” I spat out, snatching the newspaper. “Have it your way, Riley. I don’t even care anymore!” I threw the newspaper in her face. I didn’t care if it hurt, either.

  “Nora!” Aunt Elayne cried.

  “No!” Riley grabbed me by the arm, but I yanked it away. Aunt Elayne stepped in between us, like Riley was the one she had to protect.

  “I shouldn’t have blackmailed you, but you shouldn’t have lied! You should have told me the truth about Georgina!” I jabbed my finger at her wildly.

  “Georgina?” said Elayne. “Who the hell is Georgina?”

  “I just called him, and I told him what happened to you!”

  Riley’s mouth fell open.

  “I was trying to HELP!”

  Elayne locked eyes with me, her arms still spread wide. Riley pushed them out of her way and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was coming at me.

  “What are you going to do? Push me again? Knock me down again? You HURT ME when you did that! You hurt me!” I had no idea all this anger was waiting inside of me. I felt the phone in my pocket and launched it at her too, missing her by a mile, but satisfied that it ricocheted off the headboard and clattered onto the floor. “Here! Here’s your precious phone! I know it’s more important to you than anything!”

  Riley picked up the ORB with her bad hand and threw it at me. It grazed my shoulder and then bounced off the chair. Riley struggled to stand up and lurched toward me. “NO, NO, NO!” She was screaming at the top of her lungs as my aunt tried to physically hold her down. With her attention off me, I ran out the door, past the nurses who were racing toward Riley’s room. I could still hear Riley yelling, “NO, NO, NO!” as I ran down the hall to the stairs. On the ground floor, I charged past the security guard, past the gift shop, and right out the front door.

  I ran toward the Cyclone.

  * * *

  45 So you don’t drive yourself crazy . . . the answer is “badge.”

  DAY 14 3/4

  I counted my steps as I ran, listened to my heartbeat for a change, and found my breath. Feeling steadier and stronger each time my sneakers hit pavement. I wasn’t afraid of what was happening back at the hospital. It was over. Riley could go home and I could go home. I ran across Sea Breeze Avenue and then Surf Avenue, under the subway and up to the boardwalk. It was the longest, flattest line I’d ever run.

  It was hot and humid, and sweat was already pouring down my face. The ocean was like syrup, no roars today, no crashing waves, just halfhearted licks at the sand. I pumped my arms and ran even faster past the aquarium, past the handball courts just beyond it, games still pop-pop-popping even in the stifling heat. Then the adrenaline that had gotten me there gave out. I found an empty bench and collapsed onto it. My shirt and shorts were heavy with sweat, and I stuck to the back of the bench. I hadn’t paced myself at all, and I was feeling shaky. I bent forward, heard the blood rushing into my head, and was certain I was going to vomit . . . again. Then all of it, all the beach noises—the subway, the ocean, the people, the roller coaster—folded into each other until it felt like . . . silence. Finally. I could enjoy silen
ce again, without feeling guilty about it, or worrying about it, or feeling the anger that delivered it. It was a good quiet for a change. Old quiet. It didn’t last fifteen minutes.

  “Nora!”

  Oh no, really? My mother was running toward me. She must have pulled an Emergency Room Run to get to me that quickly. “Nora!” Her voice was strained—she was huffing and puffing when she got to the bench.

  “How did you know where I was?” I asked, jumping up, furious that my one moment was already over.

  “Jack,” she said, bending over, panting. “He thought . . . you might . . . take a run.” I stood up and searched the boardwalk, hoping to see Jack coming toward me, but instead recognized Elayne about a block away, Aunt Maureen a half block behind her.

  “All of you? Ran here?”

  “We grabbed . . . a cab . . . in front of . . . the hospital,” she said. “We’re not . . . that crazy.”

  “Nora! Nora!” Elayne was sort of half running and half walking in her wedge-heeled sandals. Interesting, an odd part of my brain thought—my mother was a much faster runner than Elayne. The whole Sullivan Triangle was huffing and puffing its way toward me.

  Then my regular brain kicked back in.

  “Just leave me alone!” I hollered. “I’ll come back when I feel like it!” I sat back down on the bench and folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t want to talk to anybody! And besides, God forbid you leave Riley alone for a single second . . .”

  My mother sat down next to me. “It’s not Riley I’m worried about. It’s . . . you.” Her shirt was spotted with perspiration, and she was still a little out of breath.

  Elayne dropped down on the other side of me and unbuckled her shoes. “Riley nearly knocked me to the floor. I’d say she’s feeling pretty good.” She was panting like a dog.

  “Thank God you’re okay.” Now Aunt Maureen was standing in front of me, blocking the sun. I half expected to see Riley limping down the boardwalk next, rolling her monitor behind her. I had to look to make sure that wasn’t actually happening.

  “Are you okay, Maureen?” asked Aunt Elayne, frowning up at her. Aunt Maureen’s face could not possibly have been more red. “You should sit down. Here, take my spot. You look like you’re going to pass out!”

  “I’m . . . fine.” Aunt Maureen bent over with her hands on her knees. “Leave . . . us . . . alone . . . guys,” she said to her sisters. Her eyes were bloodshot. She sat down and wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her hand. She was still breathing a bit too hard. I worried about her P-SOCKS, and her heart rate must have been through the roof. It didn’t feel like the time to point out her own risk for a heart attack.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be alone with Aunt Maureen. But Elayne nodded to my mom and they walked away, half holding each other up. There was an empty bench not far away, but they didn’t sit. Mom started to sit down at the next one after that, but Aunt Elayne—now barefoot!—tugged her forearm and forced her farther down the boardwalk, back toward the hospital.

  I kept my eyes on an old woman who was throwing bread to the seagulls. The boardwalk was quiet today. Must have been the humidity. I liked it that way.

  “You want to tell me about Georgina?”

  I froze. “What??” Oh no. Aunt Elayne must have already told her about the conversation.

  “I asked Riley, but she wouldn’t answer me,” she added. “If it’s a big enough deal that Elayne had to pin Riley down to the bed and you had to run away, I think it’s something I need to know about.”

  “Well, Georgina . . . is . . .” This was the do-over I wanted, wasn’t it? To tell Riley’s mother something she didn’t know, but should? Riley hated me anyway, right? And, yes, Aunt Maureen needed to know. “Um, well . . . I didn’t know this until today, but, um, Georgina is Uncle Pete.”

  “Hang on, you lost me already. I don’t understand. . . .”

  “In Riley’s phone . . . That’s what he’s called in Riley’s phone. . . . Riley talks to her dad. And, well, I spoke to him too. Today. This morning. I told him Riley had a stroke.”

  “What?” The tone of her voice flipped like a switch. Panic rose in my chest. I looked down the boardwalk, hoping my mom and Elayne had changed their minds and were coming back for us. But there was no help in sight. “I didn’t know it was him. I thought I was calling Riley’s boyfriend, and then I didn’t know who it was and then when he told me who he actually was . . . it was too late. . . .”

  “Wait, what? Boyfriend? Nora, what are you talking about?” Aunt Maureen’s nostrils flared. She opened her mouth as if say something more but seemed to think better of it, because instead she popped up and bolted to the railing. I waited. She took a giant breath and blew it out slowly, then turned back to me. “Okay. Okay . . . one thing at a time, right? One thing at a time . . .” She wasn’t actually talking to me, she was talking to herself, I think? I didn’t know. She ran her hands through her hair until it was almost as big as Aunt Elayne’s. She looked at me one last time. Then she just walked away. And just kept walking. Beyond her, my mom and Aunt Elayne were practically specks. The wind was picking up and Aunt Maureen’s hair whipped around her head. She tried to hold it down, but the wind took it right back up. Alone, walking away, she reminded me of Riley walking away from the Cyclone because she had been afraid. I bit my lip so hard it hurt.

  I stood up, took a deep breath myself, and jogged after my aunt. She turned around, as if she was expecting me, and reached for my hand.

  “I should have called her father,” she said, as if we’d just been in the middle of a normal conversation seconds ago. “That was my responsibility, but I just had all that I could take, you know? I didn’t . . . I didn’t want to deal with him, too.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “He’s had some problems”—she hesitated—“with drugs. Well, lots of problems. For a long time. I didn’t want Riley to know. I didn’t want to upset her.” Aunt Maureen took a step back from me. “What did you say to him?”

  I was afraid to tell her how badly I had messed up that phone call. But it was more than the phone call I was hiding.

  “I shouted and I cursed and I told him it was his fault. But I didn’t know I was talking to him—Uncle Pete,” I went on. “I thought Riley had a boyfriend. An older boyfriend . . .” A funny look crossed my aunt’s face, but it passed.

  “How long have they been in touch?” she asked, blinking rapidly.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “I really don’t. But why can’t she talk to him? He’s her father.” My aunt stiffened. She looked past me and out to the beach. The waves were picking up and a light rain began to fall. The lifeguards put on their big sweatshirts and pulled their stands back from the surf.

  “Drugs change people, Nora. And they changed him. Made him a different person. Unpredictable. Unreliable. Scary sometimes. He tried at first to stay in touch, show up for Riley. But then he just stopped.”

  “Riley doesn’t know about his . . . problems?”

  “I told her about some of it . . . but not all of it. Enough for her to understand that he loved her, but we might not see him again.”

  Sadness began to seep into me. For Aunt Maureen. For Riley. Even for Uncle Pete. I couldn’t imagine hearing that about my father. I wondered why she’d never told me. And I realized . . . I realized now why she got on the roller coaster: she wasn’t afraid of Aunt Maureen being angry, she was afraid of losing her father again.

  “The thing is . . .” My eyes filled with tears. “That’s how I got her on the roller coaster.” The tears spilled over as the words came out. “I blackmailed her. I thought she was hiding a boyfriend from you. I didn’t know it was her dad. I threatened to tell you about him, the boyfriend, I mean, if she didn’t get on the Cyclone with me. She didn’t want to get on the roller coaster. She was too scared. I made her go.” The floodgates opened. “I didn’t know, Aunt Maureen, I didn’t know she had a heart problem!”

  Aunt Maureen looked stricken. The wind rattled through my wet clothe
s. I began to shiver.

  “No, no, sweetheart.” She wrapped her arms around me. “This is not your fault.” She stepped back, so I could see her face. She was crying with me. “Riley was going to have a stroke whether she went on that roller coaster or not. Her heart wasn’t working right and the clot was going to break loose sooner or later. I know that’s a tough thing to think about, but it’s true. In fact, if she had had the stroke in her sleep, we wouldn’t have known it for hours, and things could be a lot worse than they are right now. A lot worse. So actually, it might have been the best bad thing that could have happened.”

  “Does Riley know that?” A trio of seagulls squawked and screeched, competing for the last few scraps of bread on the ground.

  “I don’t know, Nora.” She had her eyes on the seagulls now too. “If you blame yourself, maybe Riley blames you too.” The trio strutted toward us, expecting bread. Aunt Maureen flapped her hands and shooed them off. They screeched in complaint. Greedy birds.

  “But we were okay, you know?” I was pleading my case. “We played UNO and we had the wolves and I helped her and we laughed and it seemed like we were okay!”

  “Look at it this way—maybe now she’s strong enough to be angry. That’s a good thing.”

  “So she’s going to get better and better and then turn around and be mad at me all over again?”

  “Maybe,” my aunt said honestly.

  “So what do I do now?” I asked, eyeing the sky, watching the darker clouds roll in.

  “Exactly what you’re doing,” she said. “Stick around. Play UNO. Read to her. Give her words. Drop her on the bathroom floor . . .”

  “Aunt Maureen!!”

  She swatted my arm. “I’m just teasing. It was actually kind of good that you took her to the bathroom. I was too scared to do it. She’d asked me to take her, but I was afraid. . . .” She shook her head like she was disappointed in herself.