by Judy Blume
“Do you have a recent snapshot of him?” Sergeant Tice asked.
“I don’t know,” my mother said. “I think we might have one from last summer. Karen … would you see if you can find one?”
“I don’t know where any pictures are,” I told her.
Sergeant Tice said, “Never mind. Let’s get a good description of the boy now. Later, if you can come up with a picture, fine.”
“Well, he’s about five foot seven,” Daddy said. “And he weighs about one-thirty-five.”
“Hair?” Sergeant Tice asked.
“Brown,” Mom said. “Down to his collar in back and just over his ears in front.”
“What’s he wearing?”
“Jeans, a gray sweatshirt and a navy jacket,” Mom said.
“Eyes?”
“They’re blue,” I said.
“Complexion?”
“Fair,” Daddy said. “And he’s got a dimple in his chin.”
“And some zits on his face,” Amy added. “They’re pimples if you don’t already know.”
My mother looked over at Amy then, as if remembering for the first time that she was in the room. “Go up to bed now, Amy. It’s after ten!”
“No,” Amy said.
“Ruth … would you take her up and get her into bed?” Mom said.
“No!” Amy yelled. “I want to stay … I want to stay and listen.”
Aunt Ruth tried to pick up Amy but Amy kicked so hard Aunt Ruth couldn’t get hold of her.
“Daddy …” Amy cried. “Don’t let her take me away. Daddy … help!”
That sister of mine can really be impossible. And if you ask me she was doing it on purpose! But Daddy went to her and held her in his arms and stroked her hair and said, “It’s all right, baby. Everything’s going to be all right.”
She really acts like a spoiled brat when Daddy is around.
Sergeant Tice cleared his throat to get our attention again. “Any idea where he might be headed?”
“None,” Mom said. “We’ve tried his friends but nobody knows where he is.”
“Any reason you can think of for him running off?”
“He got mad at Mommy!” Amy said. “Because he didn’t like his fried shrimp!”
Sergeant Tice looked at my mother.
“We did have a few words,” she told him. “He got angry and walked out of the restaurant. Howard Johnson’s on the highway.”
Sergeant Tice wrote that down. “Is he on drugs?”
Daddy said, “Of course not!”
“Are you certain?” Sergeant Tice asked.
“Damn right I’m certain,” Daddy told him, but he was glaring at my mother.
Sergeant Tice closed his notebook and stood up. “Well … these kids usually head for New York. We’ll see what we can do.”
Mom stood up too. “That’s all?” she asked. “You’ll see? What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Just carry on,” Sergeant Tice said. “Not much else you can do. He’ll probably show up. Most of them do.”
“He’s walking with a cane,” I said. “He’s got a broken toe.” I could just picture Jeff on his way to New York. He’d fall down every few miles and he’d be cold and hungry and nobody would help him. Maybe I’ll never see him again.
“Well, he can’t get very far like that,” Sergeant Tice said. “I’ll be in touch.”
We all walked him to the front door. I saw him spit out his gum by our dogwood tree.
Aunt Ruth said she’d make some coffee and Uncle Dan excused himself to go to the bathroom. Daddy carried Amy upstairs and put her to bed. When he came back down he and Mom went into the living room.
Now that the police business is out of the way, they can have a chance to be alone, I thought. They’ll see that they belong together. That we’re a family. Any minute now Daddy will tell her he’s sorry he left.
I stayed in the kitchen with Aunt Ruth and Uncle Dan. I guess they wanted to hear what was going to happen as much as I did.
The first thing Daddy said was, “I want the truth and I want it now.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Mom told him.
“You damn well better have something to say! Because I want to know why my son ran away!”
“Your son!” Mom shouted. “He’s my son too … and don’t you forget it!”
“When I left this house he was fine,” Daddy said. “But you fixed that, didn’t you?”
It’s not going to work, I thought. They’re just like they were before, only worse.
Mom yelled, “Did you ever stop to think maybe it was your fault Jeff ran off? You’re not exactly a perfect father!”
“Shut up!” Daddy raised his voice too. “You want everybody to hear us?”
“I don’t give a damn who hears! You make me sick!” Mom yelled.
“I’m warning you, Ellie …”
“Lay a hand on me and I’ll have you locked up,” Mom screamed.
Was he going to hit her?
“I wouldn’t waste my time,” Daddy shouted.
No, he wasn’t going to hit her.
“That’s the trouble with you,” Mom hollered. “You think everything is a waste of time … me, the kids, the house, everything! The only thing you care about is the store! That goddamned store is your whole life!”
“I never heard you complain when the store got you a new car or this house or a vacation,” Daddy yelled.
“Those aren’t the only things in life.”
“Come off it, Ellie.”
“No, I won’t! You never looked at me as a person. I have feelings … I have ideas … did you ever stop to think about that?”
Amy ran into the kitchen then. She was crying. Uncle Dan picked her up and held her to him.
“Now you listen to me,” Daddy shouted.
“No!” Mom hollered. “I’m tired of listening to you.”
“And I’m tired of the whole business. You don’t know what you want. You never did. And you never will! Because you never grew up! You’re still Ruth’s baby!”
Aunt Ruth pressed her lips together so tight they disappeared.
My mother shouted, “I should have listened to Ruth a long time ago. I should have listened the first time I brought you home. She saw you for what you are. Conceited, selfish—”
“One more word and I’m going to take the kids away from you!”
“Don’t you dare threaten me!” Mom screamed.
“I mean it. So help me. I’ll have you declared incompetent.”
“You rotten bastard …”
There was an awful crash in the living room then and I ran in to see what happened. One of Mom’s best china babies was on the floor, smashed, like the mocha-icing cake.
“That’s how you settle all your problems, isn’t it?” Daddy said with a terrible laugh. “Just like a two-year-old.”
Mom started to cry. She bent down and tried to pick up the pieces of her antique. I think it was the first time she ever broke anything she loved.
Then Daddy backed up and sat down on the chair by the fireplace, right on top of Mew. Mew howled and Daddy jumped. “Damn cat!”
I shouted, “You never liked her, did you?” I could see that Daddy thought I was talking about Mom, but really I meant Mew.
I don’t know what they started yelling about then but I couldn’t stand it any more so I put my hands over my ears and I started to scream. And I screamed and I screamed and I screamed, without stopping to take a breath. I saw Aunt Ruth and Uncle Dan and Amy and my mother and my father, just standing there like idiots, watching me scream, but still I didn’t stop. I kept on screaming … until Daddy slapped me across the face.
And then I cried.
Twenty-five
When I opened my eyes it was morning. The first thing I saw was my Viking diorama sitting on top of the dresser. The sunlight coming through my window hit the blue sparkles and made them shine. I threw off my covers and jumped out of bed. I grabbed the diorama and flung it ag
ainst the wall. It didn’t break. Two of the Vikings fell out of their ship but the box was okay. So I stamped on it with both feet until there was nothing left but a broken shoebox and a lot of blue sparkle all over my rug. Then I kicked it as hard as I could, again and again. Stupid, ugly Viking diorama! I hate you!
I got back into bed and pulled the covers over my head. I was all set to cry, but the tears didn’t come this time.
I must have been a crazy person to think that my silly diorama could work magic. Now I know the truth. My parents are not going to get back together. And there isn’t one single thing I can do about it! My mother doesn’t think Daddy is a wonderful person. She was feeding me a bunch of lies. Val was right. Not that Daddy thinks much of Mom either. Well, I’m through fooling myself.
I rolled over. I wonder where Jeff is. I think he would have liked the way I screamed last night. I’m sorry he missed it. I’ll bet he wishes he had some of those fried shrimp with him, breaded or not. He must be hungry by now. I hope he’s okay. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, even though I did hate him for a while. If he doesn’t come home Daddy won’t be able to go to Las Vegas on Monday. Hey, I’ll bet that’s why Jeff picked last night to run away! Maybe he knew what he was doing after all. Except for one thing. He didn’t hear them fighting so he doesn’t know that they’re hopeless. Poor Jeff! He ran away for nothing.
The phone rang, but I didn’t jump up to answer it as usual. My mother came into my room. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.
“Karen … are you awake?” Mom asked.
I didn’t answer her.
She stood next to me and shook my shoulder a little. “Karen, your father wants to talk to you.”
This is the first time she’s ever called him my father. I still didn’t answer.
“Karen … are you okay?”
I could tell by her voice she was getting upset because I wouldn’t open my eyes. So I got out of bed on the side away from where Mom was standing and I said, “I’m up and I’m fine.” I walked from my room, across the hall, to hers. I picked up the phone. “Hello.”
“Karen, about last night …” Daddy began.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I told him.
So Daddy said, “Well, I want you to know it was just because we were so upset about Jeff.”
“Sure,” I said.
“And I don’t want you to worry about your brother either. Because I’ve already hired a private detective and he’ll certainly find him if the police can’t.”
“That’s good,” I said.
“Listen, Karen, the only reason I slapped you last night was because you were hysterical. And that’s what you have to do when someone’s hysterical.”
“That’s okay,” I told him. I haven’t ever been hysterical before. I wonder if I ever will be again?
“Are you still flying to Las Vegas on Monday?”
“I don’t know yet,” Daddy said. “It all depends on Jeff.”
“If he doesn’t come home you’re not going?”
“I’m not going anywhere till I know Jeff’s okay. My trip can wait a week or two,” Daddy said. “If you need me for anything I’ll be at the store all day.”
“Okay. Bye.” I hung up and went back to my room. My mother was making my bed. She looked very tired. When she was done she sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Karen, about last night …”
I told her the same thing I told Daddy. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
But she said, “I think you should know that it was just because we were so worried about Jeff.”
“Sure,” I said. “I know.”
“And we didn’t really mean any of the things we said.”
“How about Daddy taking us away from you? Can he do that?”
“No, of course not. That was just his way of hurting me. I told you, we didn’t mean anything we said last night.”
I didn’t believe that. I think they really meant all the things they said to each other.
My mother blew her nose. When she was done she asked, “What happened to your Viking diorama?”
“It broke,” I told her. “But don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about the mess. I just think it’s a shame that it broke. It was beautiful.” Mom stood up and checked her watch. “It’s almost nine o’clock. I’ve got to run downtown to police headquarters. I found a picture of Jeff for Sergeant Tice.”
“Which one did you find?”
“His school picture,” Mom said, pulling it out of her pocket. She showed it to me.
“That’s a nice one,” I said.
Mom nodded. “Hurry and get dressed now, Karen. I want to go right away.”
“Why can’t I stay here and watch Amy?”
“Amy’s not home. Aunt Ruth picked her up early this morning.”
“Well, you go ahead and I’ll stay here and clean up my room.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone,” Mom said.
“But suppose Jeff calls and there’s no answer. What will he think?”
“I never thought of that,” Mom said. “You’re right. You better stay here just in case. I won’t be gone long.”
As soon as my mother left the house I went down to the kitchen. I was very thirsty. I felt like drinking a whole giant-sized can of pineapple juice. I gulped down two full glasses, then poured a third and walked into the living room. The smashed china baby was gone, but all the drawers in my mother’s antique chest were halfway open and the floor was covered with photos. There were so many of them!
I put my glass on the coffee table, sat down on the floor and picked up a picture. It was of me when I was little. My two front teeth were missing. I was standing next to a huge fish and crying. I remember I was really scared. I thought the fish could bite me. I didn’t know it was dead.
There was another picture that showed all of us at a picnic. I must have been about eight. That was the day Jeff’s kite got caught in the tree and I fell into the brook.
I found our baby pictures. And one of Daddy and Mom at a costume party. My mother was wearing some dumb-looking Cleopatra wig. She and Daddy were laughing.
I grabbed up the photos and stuffed them back into the drawer. Then I ran upstairs to my room and took my cat bank off the dresser. Jeff gave it to me for my last birthday. He said he knew I’d rather keep my money in a cat than in a pig. I pulled the stopper out of the bottom of the bank and dumped all the money onto my bed. There was $10.49. Good! The divorce book costs $7.95, Val said. So I have enough.
I got dressed, threw my diorama into the garbage and took out the vacuum. There was no other way to get rid of the blue sparkle all over my rug.
When my mother got back from police headquarters I was still vacuuming.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Mom said.
“I felt like it,” I told her. “Did Sergeant Tice find out anything yet?”
“Not yet,” Mom said. “But he will. Especially now that he has the picture. That should help a lot. Jeff might even be home this afternoon.”
“Sure,” I said.
“You know what I’m going to do?” Mom asked.
“No, what?”
“I’m going to give Jeff’s room a good cleaning. The closets and everything.”
Why would she do a silly thing like that? Jeff likes his room messy. The messier the better.
Mom took the vacuum. “I want his room to look really nice when he comes home. You want to help?” she asked me.
“I can’t,” I said. “I have to go over to the shopping center. I need something for a school project.”
Mom acted like she hardly heard me. “Be careful” was all she said.
The shopping center isn’t that far from our house. I rode my bike straight to the bookstore. I had the paper with Val’s information on it tucked away in my pocketbook. I asked the saleslady for The Boys and Girls Book About Divorce by Richard A. Gardner, M.D., published by Scien
ce House, Inc., illustrated by Alfred Lowenheim, with a foreword by Louise Bates Ames.
She seemed pretty impressed that I knew so much about it. She smiled at me a lot. Then she said, “I’m sorry, but we don’t have that book in stock. We’ll have to order it for you.”
Imagine not having such an important book in stock! What is the matter with this bookstore? I asked her how long it would take to get it and she told me maybe two weeks. I said I didn’t think I could wait that long and she smiled again and told me she’d put a rush on it and it might come through sooner. I had to pay in advance and write down my name, address and phone number. I don’t know how I am going to last two whole weeks without that book!
Twenty-six
Sunday, May 9
Dear Garfa,
How are you? I hope you’re fine. Yesterday I ordered The Boys and Girls Book About Divorce. Did you ever hear of it? It’s a very famous book and I need it a lot. I need it because Daddy and Mom are definitely going to get divorced! I’ve tried hard to get them back together. Honest! But nothing works. I have discovered something important about my mother and father. When they are apart they’re not so bad, but together they are impossible!
Anyway, I hope you understand and won’t be too disappointed, even if this is the first divorce in the history of the Newman family. Do you want to hear something funny? When Daddy told us he was flying to Las Vegas to get the divorce I still didn’t believe it would really happen. Now I believe it! Another thing I think you should know is this—I don’t look like Grandmother Newman at all. I just pretended to agree with you. I don’t look like anyone but ME! I hope Mattie is fine and that you are having fun.
Love,
Karen
Maybe I should have mentioned something about Jeff in my letter but I think that would upset Garfa even more. And I am hoping that by the time my letter gets to Las Vegas Jeff will be home.
I folded the letter, put it in its envelope and licked it closed. I had to sneak an airmail stamp out of my mother’s desk. I didn’t want to ask for one because then I would have to explain why I was writing to Garfa. After breakfast I walked down to the corner and dropped the letter in the mailbox.
