The Legacy of Lost Things

by Aida Zilelian

  “No,” she said.

  The temptation of telling Araxi she had called home already pressed on her, but she knew it was too soon to tell her. She knew that when she woke up in whatever motel they would be staying that evening, Araxi would want to keep driving.

  Sophie

  The two weeks Adrian was away with his father felt interminable to Sophie. There was so much she had to tell him. She lay in bed thinking about their secret evenings, imagining him rapping on her windowsill. She slept fitfully, her thoughts swarming inside of her like angry flies buzzing tirelessly, trapped in a glass jar. She replayed her conversation with Mrs. Gradore and Cecile, and that horrible moment when she stupidly blurted out the truth about Cecile’s phone call. Her mother’s glare that evening appeared in her nightmares, and she had started keeping herself at a safe distance from her during the day.

  “Did that girl call again?” Sophie jumped. She was in the kitchen making a sandwich and hadn’t heard her mother wake up.

  “No,” she said, and walked away with her plate into the living room.

  She hoped her mother would leave her alone as she had for most of the week. She felt like she was living with an untamed creature, her behavior unpredictable and threatening. Sometimes her mother would leave the house and return before dark when her father usually came home. One afternoon she screamed because Sophie hadn’t washed the dishes, a chore that she had never been given the responsibility of tending to. She watched with fright as her mother grabbed a dirty bowl and flung it across the kitchen floor.

  “Wash the dishes!” she had yelled as she pounded down the hallway and slammed her bedroom door closed.

  Both her parents were still sleeping when she woke up on Sunday morning. She sat outside on the steps of her house as if she had been locked out. A forest green station wagon drove past her house and pulled in front of Adrian’s house across the street from her. A moment later, Adrian and a man, who Sophie could only assume was his father, got out of the car and started carrying bags out of the trunk and into the house. Although she had been sitting there without a thought in her mind, she felt as if she had been caught spying. She was tempted to go inside her house, but wasn’t sure if Adrian would spot her, which would make their conversation more awkward. As if sensing her presence, he turned around and saw her. He waved, and she waved back. She could tell even from where she was sitting that his skin was tanner, and as he walked over to her she felt a tingling in her hands and her mouth went dry.

  “Hey!” he said. “What are you doing sitting out here? Did they kick you out?” he joked.

  “I wish,” she said. “I guess I woke up too early. I was bored.” It was the truth at least, and she didn’t have the time to invent anything better.

  “It’s not even seven o’clock in the morning,” he said.

  “Well, why are you home so early?” she asked.

  “My dad,” he said. “He’s neurotic about hitting traffic.”

  Sophie could barely concentrate on what he was saying. She was transfixed. His dark hair had grown a bit longer, and the glow of his skin against his green eyes flustered her.

  Before she could ask him if he had enjoyed his trip, Adrian’s father stepped out of the house. He was older than Sophie had pictured him to be. He wore a plaid shirt and a cap and his hair was tinted with streaks of gray. He gave Sophie a short smile, lifted some bags out of the trunk, and made his way back to the house.

  “It was our first trip to the house without my mom,” Adrian explained. “He’s usually a lot friendlier.”

  “How was it?” Sophie asked.

  “Weird,” he said. “How about you? What did I miss?”

  “Nothing and everything,” she said. “It looks like my sister left with her friend. She called—the friend, I mean. But before that her mother called. I wasn’t going to tell my parents, but then I did. It made things worse.”

  “So where is she?”

  “I don’t know. Her friend wouldn’t say, but at least she’s alive and it sounds like she’s okay,” she said. “Are you glad to be back?” she asked, hoping his answer might give a hint as to whether or not he had thought about her while he was away.

  “In a way,” he said. “But that’s going to change soon anyway.”

  “With school and everything,” she agreed.

  “Not quite,” he said. He paused for a moment as if trying to remember the right words. “We’re moving,” he said.

  It was the last thing she had expected to hear. She was about to ask him if he wanted to come by later in the evening. “Where?” was all she could manage to ask because the answer didn’t matter.

  “Upstate,” he said. He seemed matter-of-fact about it.

  “Oh,” she said. She was glad she was sitting down. The same sensation before she had collapsed on the sidewalk the night they first met overcame her. “Why so far away?”

  “My dad’s store isn’t doing so well. And since we own the house upstate and the school district is decent, my father wants to sell this house and move.”

  Sophie looked at him trying to discern any sentiment or emotion he might be feeling. Instead, he stood in front of her expressionless and mildly aloof like when she first saw him sitting on his cousin’s couch the day of the pool party.

  “When?” she asked, although something in her had already accepted this new, unbearable news.

  “Hopefully before school starts,” he said. “He’s going to put the house on the market and if there aren’t any buyers, he’ll rent it out for the time being.”

  “I better get back inside,” she said, and stood up. “If my parents realize I’m out here they’ll lose it,” and before he had a chance to respond she turned her back to him and opened the back door.

  She leaned against the kitchen counter and stared dumbly at the wall. Her grandmother was gone. Her sister was gone. Now Adrian would be gone. She felt an unfamiliar void of emotion and it seemed like she could stand there for hours staring off. She didn’t hear her mother walking down the hallway, and was startled when she looked up and saw her standing in front of her.

  “Who was that boy?” her mother asked. She didn’t look groggy like she did most mornings. In fact, she was dressed and had put on makeup. She was unrecognizable.

  “He’s my friend from across the street,” Sophie said. She knew it was useless to lie.

  “Why is this the first time I’m seeing you with him?” her mother asked, and stepped toward her.

  Sophie recoiled against the kitchen counter. “He’s just a friend,” she stammered. She was scared her mother would hit her.

  “Have you been seeing him without telling me?” Her mother clenched her jaw. She looked feral.

  “I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Sophie said. “We just say hi to each other when we see each other. I met him at the pool party at the end of the school year. His cousin was in my—”

  In an instant her mother raised her hand and slapped her across the mouth. “You’re lying!” she said under her breath, and slapped her again.

  Instead of covering her face with her hands as she had seen her sister Araxi do on many occasions, she grabbed her mother’s hands and pushed her.

  “Who are you to hit me?” Sophie screamed. She felt as if some strong invisible force had taken her over. Shocked at first, her mother tried to push back. “What right do you have to raise your hand to me!” she screamed, pointing at herself as if she were royalty. “Why don’t you leave like everyone else? Huh? First Anoush Medz-Mama dies, then Araxi leaves, and now my friend is moving, okay? So go back to your stupid bedroom and disappear or take another trip to San Francisco because as far as I’m concerned you’re never around anyway!”

  “Sophie! Have you lost your mind?” Her mother took a few steps back to observe her daughter’s hysterical outburst as if she were a child throwing a silly tantrum.

  “No. Have you lost your mind?” Sophie said with the same condescending tone. It was obvious she was mimicking her mother.
It was as if she was going out of her way to infuriate her.

  “You better go to your room,” her mother said, staring at Sophie. “I don’t know what’s the matter with you this morning, but you’re going to make it much worse if you continue.”

  “Fine,” she said. “But don’t be surprised if I leave too. But I won’t be stupid like Araxi. I’ll make sure to leave alone.”

  She went to her room and closed the door behind her. It was that rare time of day when the morning light filled her room with a quiet warmth, and everything was still. Sophie looked over at her sister’s bed, envious that her sister was gone and she was still living at home. Now Adrian would leave, too. She was thankful that she would be going back to school in a few weeks and that would occupy her time, despite its monotony.

  There was a tap on the window. Adrian was crouched under the windowsill and waved at her. She opened the window halfway.

  “Are your parents up? Can I come in?” he asked.

  “They’re sleeping,” she said, and then she surprised herself. “And I’m tired, too. Like I said before, I woke up too early. I think I’m going to go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She didn’t wait to see the look on his face. She closed the window and lay down on her bed. She didn’t notice that Adrian was still there waiting.

  Levon

  Levon was awoken by the screaming that morning. This time the voice was unfamiliar. He stopped in the middle of the hallway when he realized it was his daughter. Stunned, he stood and listened. He ducked into the bathroom when he heard Sophie pounding toward her bedroom. When he went into the kitchen Tamar was still there. She was going through her purse and hadn’t noticed him.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I’m going out for a while,” she said, not bothering to look at him.

  She was wearing a pair of navy blue pants and a white silk blouse. Her hair was swept up in a neat bun and she had put on a dark red shade of lipstick. She looked like a flight attendant.

  “Why can’t you just tell me where?”

  He felt silly standing in front of her in his pajama bottoms and bare feet, as if somehow it diminished his authority.

  “I’m going to see the girl’s mother,” she said, and turned to him. Their eyes met briefly and they both looked away. Despite all the loveless years between them, Levon wanted to reach out to her and kiss her.

  “So early?” he asked.

  “She’s a nut job, Levon. What can I tell you?” she said, almost as if she needed him to complain to. “She wants to get in the car and drive out to wherever and find the girls.”

  “That sounds stupid and crazy,” he replied.

  Araxi’s disappearance had bonded them in a new and strange way. They were both worried, angry, and often felt a sense of helplessness that they alone shared.

  “I’m meeting her for coffee,” she said. “That diner on Queens Boulevard—you know which one.”

  “So dressed up for coffee,” he commented.

  “I look like hell most of the time. It gave me an excuse to make myself presentable,” she said.

  She was headed toward the door and Levon stopped her. “What happened with Sophie?” he asked.

  “She’s seeing the boy across the street,” Tamar said. “I slapped her for keeping it a secret. Always secrets with her.”

  She stopped herself and looked away. “Anyway. She lost her temper. Yelled. I told her to go to her room.”

  “No more slapping,” Levon said. He was about to continue. He wanted to talk about Sophie and how Araxi’s absence had been affecting her. But realizing his own words, now it was his turn to look away. Tamar picked up her purse and left the house.

  Seconds later the phone rang. Levon lifted the receiver hoping it wasn’t his sister.

  He said hello, but it was either a bad connection or the person on the other end of the line wasn’t speaking.

  “Araxi?” he said. “Araxi?”

  The person didn’t hang up. Levon held the phone waiting. “Please tell Araxi to come home,” he said. The line went dead and then he heard the dial tone.

  He went to Sophie’s room and saw that she was sleeping. He watched her from the bedroom door thinking of what she had said to Tamar that morning. It saddened him to think that Sophie felt abandonment at such a young age. He had never felt the emptiness of being alone until his mother passed away, and right after the funeral Tamar had left to visit her sisters. Even though he was not especially fond of his sister Lucine, she was one more person whom he had lost along the way. Now with Araxi gone, he couldn’t help wondering if he had brought it all upon himself. He thought of how he could have done things differently and the better life he could have had.

  He sat at the edge of Sophie’s bed. She was lying on her side and her long dark hair fell across her face and past her shoulders. It was like watching a smaller version of Tamar. He had been told many times that Araxi resembled him, but he did not see it. Perhaps it was his stubborn resistance to admitting he had been wrong all along, and that he was indeed Araxi’s actual father. He wondered if that was why Tamar had always been so harsh with her—she resented Araxi not being Faris’s daughter. Regardless, he still could not prove that Tamar had betrayed him after they were married. No matter how many times they argued, Tamar never admitted anything. Afterward, when he had lost his temper and it was too late, he was sickened by the possibility that that he had played into his own insecurities.

  If he never had to see the man again it would be easier. But being part of the Armenian community meant attending church regularly and going to the occasional dinner dance. On those evenings, he would pull the car around from the driveway waiting for Tamar to get in, and as she would sit in the passenger seat he would look at her, completely entranced by her appearance, hoping she had taken the time to look so beautiful for his eyes only. They would sit at a table with friends, both of them all too aware that Faris was somewhere in the room with his wife Sarine. Sometimes he would see them on the dance floor, their hands linked with others, moving in a large circle as the buoyant music played. Tamar would sit next to Levon, filled with envy, or so he thought. He knew he could never compete with Tamar’s love for Faris, and although they had both successfully avoided any contact with him through the years, Faris’s presence taunted them in different ways. His only consolation was that at least the matter had always been kept private. No one in the community was aware of the bizarre dynamic they had to contend with.

  “Dad?”

  The sound of his daughter’s voice broke the depth of his thoughts.

  “I’m just sitting here,” he said. “I used to watch you sleep when you were little. Sometimes I still do.”

  Sophie sat up and rubbed her eyes. “You heard my fight with mom,” she said.

  “I did,” Levon said. “You should never yell at your mother like that. I don’t like that.”

  “Okay,” Sophie said, trying to focus her eyes as she slowly woke up.

  “Who’s that boy?” Levon asked.

  “Just a friend,” she said. She lay back down on the bed and faced the wall.

  “Are you sure?” Levon hesitated. He was so uncomfortable talking about these matters that he found himself shifting in his seat.

  “No,” she said, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.

  Levon raised his eyebrows. “Can you tell me what that means?”

  “Nothing happened,” she said with a groan. “Don’t worry.”

  “Where did you meet him?” he asked.

  “At that party after graduation. He was there. He’s cousins with the girl who invited me. He lives across the street. Except …”

  Her voice trailed off and she stopped speaking. Levon leaned over and tried to lift her up. At first, she resisted. “Come here,” he said, and pulled her up. Sophie rested her head on his shoulder and felt his arm around her.

  “Except he’s moving,” she said. “Far away.”

  Her father he
ld her as she sobbed. “Do you like him?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice small and strained. “He’s the first boy I’ve ever liked.”

  He let her cry without saying anything.

  “And everybody leaves,” he heard her say. She spoke through her tears that had now turned to heavy sobs. “Anoush Medz-Mama is gone. And Araxi left. And Mom might as well not be here because she’s just not here. And you’re working. And now this stupid idiot is moving! This stupid idiot!” she said, and laughed a little in spite of herself.

  Levon felt awkward trying to comfort his daughter in matters of love. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been a comfort to anyone. Nor could he bring himself to tell his daughter that he often felt just as alone and isolated. All he could do was sit with her.

  “Ahs ahl beedee antsnee,” he said. “Hok mee uhner. Ahs Ahl ganstnee.” This will also pass. Don’t worry. This will pass as well.

  “So I’m thinking we get into a car and find the girls,” Mrs. Gradore said loudly.

  Tamar was sitting across from her at a booth in a diner that was nearly empty, but she still felt the need to respond a notch above whispering. “How do you know where to go?” she asked. She had no desire to drive anywhere, let alone with this brazen woman she did not know.

  “I’m thinking Cecile will call your house again. Tell your little one—what’s her name?—tell her to find out where they are, and then we’ll go.” She removed her sunglasses and pushed them on top of her head. The morning light made her features painfully unflattering. Tamar quietly noted the small wrinkles etched at the corners of her eyes, and the yellow pallor of her skin. “I know I look like shit,” Mrs. Gradore added. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure you’re losing sleep over it just as much as I am.”

  “Sophie,” Tamar said, ignoring the woman’s last comment. “So we need to wait until then.” She took a sip of her coffee trying to stall for a moment so she could think of a way to demurely reject the offer. “I’m not comfortable with it,” she said finally. “And my husband would not want me to leave Sophie behind and drive to the middle of nowhere. It wouldn’t be safe.”