The Someday Suitcase

by Corey Ann Haydu

  “And it was fun!” Elsa says.

  “Fun is great, too,” Ms. Mendez says. I think I love Ms. Mendez, and I definitely love science. I love it more than math or baking, which I also love. In math and baking things turn out the way you want them to, or else you’ve failed. Either the bread rises or it doesn’t. Either the numbers even out, or they don’t. But in science, like with art, even when you’re wrong, you’re right. As long as you’re trying, you’re doing your job.

  Magic’s that way too, I think. I hide a secret smile.

  Brandy says she learned even more about cats than she already knew, which was a lot, and that she learned she wants to learn more about cats. Other kids talk about how hard it was to remember to have control factors and to do the experiments the same way every time. I think the kids who made the solar panel car will probably win the science fair, even though solar panel cars are boring and everyone knows their parents helped. But that doesn’t matter.

  I know I can’t win. I know I can’t be there. And it hurts, but I also know I learned the most important thing of all:

  Until it’s proven false, anything is possible.

  Even magic.

  “You coming over?” Elsa says when we get out of school that afternoon. Levi is deep in a comic book, walking and reading at the same time. Elsa has to keep steering him in the right direction and yelling at him not to cross the street without looking.

  It’s nice, to see the way everyone takes care of each other.

  “I think I’m going to head to Danny’s,” I say, even though I’d like to go with Elsa and Levi. Elsa grabs Levi’s shoulder and makes him turn right, out of the path of a bunch of second graders walking in the opposite direction.

  It’s such a nice gesture, and Levi doesn’t even really know she’s doing it.

  “Hey, Levi?” I say. “Elsa’s saving you. I hope you realize that.” He looks up from his comic book and finally sees the world around him zooming by. He startles.

  “Oh,” he says, but there’s so much more to the oh than just that sound. “Thanks.”

  And I know it doesn’t sound like much, but he sounds like he really means it.

  “That’s what friends are for,” Elsa says in this singsong voice, and she says it with a sort of smirk and a nudge, but it hits me right in the heart.

  And like that, I know I have to tell them.

  Not everything. But the plan.

  It feels good to tell them, because it’s all I can think about, and it feels like I’m finally being honest, to say it out loud.

  “We’re going to the Somerset Clinic,” I say. I tell them about the truck and show them my list of things to pack, and when I’m done talking, I feel like I can finally breathe again.

  “That sounds scary,” Levi says.

  “That sounds amazing,” Elsa says.

  “It’s going to work,” I say, as loudly and as certainly as I can. “Plus, I bet we’ll see snow!”

  “You can add our psychrometer to your list,” Levi says. “So that you can make sure the snow is coming. We’ll give you all our snow-related research.”

  “But you need it for the fair!” I say.

  Elsa and Levi exchange a look. My heart expands.

  “This is more important,” Levi says. Elsa nods. They are serious and sure. They are amazing friends. I’m too surprised to even say thank you, so I just nod too.

  I take out my notebook and add the psychrometer to the list.

  Just like Ms. Mendez said, sometimes scientists stumble upon reasons for their experiments way after the experiments have started.

  Ms. Mendez says science is what connects us all, and I guess this means she’s right.

  23

  There is a star piñata. It’s pink and red and yellow and swinging like a big clock. There are cookies too, and cake, and a mess of chips and pretzels and oniony dips that are already dripping onto the crinkly paper tablecloths Mom always gets for birthdays.

  I thought I didn’t really want a party. I’m too focused on what happens after the party, when we sneak into Dad’s truck and steal away with him. But Mom and Dad insisted, so here we are, me and Danny, waiting for my birthday to begin so that it can end.

  He hasn’t said happy birthday yet, and I’m trying not to be mad about it. I think he’s forgotten—not that it’s my birthday, of course, the purple streamers make that obvious—but that my birthday matters at all.

  “Maybe we can sneak out in the middle,” he says, like that’s a thing I would definitely want.

  I haven’t told him about the flutter of happiness in my stomach and how much I like the purple streamers and that I’m looking forward to seeing Elsa and Levi and cracking open my piñata. I can’t wait for Dad to finish up his errands and come home with a special cake with my name on it. I didn’t want a party, but now that it’s here, new feelings are popping up without my permission. He doesn’t know that I’m hoping my parents got me a unicycle and an ice-cream cake. Lately, Danny doesn’t know much about my life outside of him, but that will change, after the Somerset Clinic. I’ll make a list of things that I didn’t get to talk to him about because it would have seemed too selfish when he was sick.

  “I can’t sneak out of my own party,” I say with a smile, even though underneath I’m sad at how little Danny is thinking about me on my birthday.

  It feels like everyone from Mr. Yetur’s class arrives all at once.

  Elsa hugs me around my middle and squeals into my ear. Danny steps back but not too much. He’s close. I can feel his closeness the same way I feel my own feelings.

  “BIRTHDAY GIRL!” Elsa says, pulling back and examining me, like I might have changed in between yesterday and today, ten and eleven. Maybe I have. I feel different, at least.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I say, but it’s starting to feel like one.

  “And Danny’s here!” Elsa says. Danny does a funny wave and Elsa mirrors it with too hard a laugh. Danny shrugs, and I wonder if he’s here because it’s my birthday or because he’s afraid of what symptom would hit if he were home.

  I shouldn’t think that about my best friend.

  “Hey, aren’t you sick?” Brandy asks. Her nose wrinkles and she puts her hands over her mouth like she’s nervous about catching what he has.

  “Not today,” Danny says.

  “So you can come to parties but not to school?” Brandy says. Elsa is trying to secure a tiara to my head and Mom’s bringing me a slice of pizza, but all I can think of is how to get Danny out of this conversation, because I know he’s hating it.

  “Maybe I’ll come back to school soon,” Danny says. But if this party is any indication, it’s the last thing he’d want to do.

  “You’re probably too behind,” Brandy says. She has a reputation for saying rude things that she doesn’t realize are rude. Maybe it would have been funny a year ago, but Danny’s not finding it funny today. His face is turning red and he’s staring at me like I have some birthday-girl power to make it stop.

  “I’m staying caught up,” Danny says, but it’s not really true. Helen and Ross aren’t making him do homework, and he’s usually too tired to do work. He probably is behind.

  “It would be weird for you to come back now, though,” Brandy says.

  “New subject!” Elsa says, but she doesn’t have a new subject, so then we’re all quiet and uncomfortable. My body is swaying between the two groups of people, my two lives. I feel a little like I’m one of the girls, as if I belong with Elsa and Brandy and the rest of my class. And I’ve never felt that I don’t one hundred percent belong with Danny before, so it feels itchy and strange.

  But also a little nice.

  I don’t want to have to choose. I want to be both. I want to be Elsa’s friend and Danny’s. I want to be a fifth-grade girl and a magical symbiotic creature.

  “Clover! Play Taboo with us!” Paloma says. She’s never asked me to do anything with her ever. I look at Danny. He’s a little dazed and a little overwhelmed, but
he waves me off.

  “Go,” he says. “I’ll hang in the living room. I’m good.” He puts on a smile that I know is taking him some effort.

  “I want to play too!” Elsa calls, and she drags me to the kitchen table, where Mom’s set up a few board games and even more desserts. Jake’s on the floor being good with a brownie in one hand and a gaming device in the other. He almost blends into our beige tiles.

  “Can I be on your team?” Paloma asks. I look around to see who she’s talking to, but she’s talking to me.

  “Me too, me too!” Brandy says.

  “Clover and I are best friends, so we have to be on the same team,” Elsa says. Brandy and Paloma and the other kids nod like they already knew that, and I guess it’s official.

  My heart pounds and I look to see if Danny heard. He didn’t. He’s headed toward a big bowl of chips.

  “What about Levi?” I say, even though I should be telling her I already have a best friend. Levi’s taken up a patch of floor next to Jake, and they actually look happy there together, on the floor, out of the way.

  “Levi’s great, but he’s not my best-best friend,” Elsa says. “Not in the same way. I mean, look at him. He doesn’t really want a best friend the same way I do.”

  Levi’s frowning at Jake’s video game, and he’s got brownie all around his mouth. He’s not interested in joining the rest of the party.

  I look for Danny again and can see him in the next room. He’s busy dipping and chomping. I still don’t say what I should say.

  Maybe there are different kinds of best friends, I think for one second before I feel too guilty to keep thinking it.

  “Levi’s best friend is his video games,” Elsa says.

  “Right,” I say, and we crack up, me and Elsa. Her laugh sounds like piano trills, and it hangs on hard and fast. The more she laughs, the more I laugh, and it gets out of control quickly. Out-of-control laughing feels excellent.

  Plus, it turns out we’re amazing at Taboo.

  An hour later Dad shows up with a cake with three layers. It’s covered in sugar roses and he puts his hands on his waist after uncovering it, like it’s a tree he cut down or a huge fish he caught.

  I’m mostly just happy to see Dad, but the cake looks pretty wonderful too.

  “Wow,” I say.

  “I thought you deserved something extra special,” he says, and I think my birthday wish will be that we get more days where Dad is home.

  But then I remember I have to reserve my birthday wish for Danny and making him better. For an instant I wonder if Danny’s still okay in the other room, but Paloma is hanging on to my elbow and bouncing up and down, telling me how pretty the cake is, and I’m still feeling sparkly and special from Elsa calling me her best friend. So I don’t check on Danny. I stay right here.

  “You’re a great kid,” Dad says in his crunchy, crackly, about-to-cry voice. “You’ve been through a lot, and you’ve grown up a lot and we wanted your birthday to be special. And fun.” He pats my head, and it’s embarrassing but nice too. Everyone’s clamoring for a piece of cake, and Dad leans down, close to my ear. He knows I won’t want everyone to hear everything he has to say. “You’re not having enough fun lately, Clover,” he says.

  True things go right from my ears to my heart and dig little holes there. Truth holes.

  This sentence makes a whole bunch of truth holes all at once. He’s right. It’s not fun, taking care of Danny. It turns out magic isn’t very fun at all, actually.

  I hate that Danny’s not the fun part of my life right now. He has always been the funnest part.

  On my ninth birthday he dressed up like a clown and performed a circus for me with a neighborhood dog. Last year he made the whole cafeteria sing “Happy Birthday.” I blushed so hard I thought I’d never go back to my regular color.

  I finally look for him. The memory of my ninth birthday makes me miss him, makes me want him near.

  “Danny?” I say.

  “That cake is amazing!” Elsa says. “Your dad is so cool! Can I have a rose? Best friends get roses, right?”

  “Right, right,” I say, too scared to tell her she can’t be my best friend because I have Danny, and he has to be my best friend, always. Even if it’s not fun sometimes.

  “Danny?” I call again.

  “It’s your turn at Taboo!” Paloma says. Elsa and I have been winning, and when we do she gives me this special smile, like every win means something about us and our friendship. I let it feel good. I let it feel so good I forgot to make sure Danny was close by.

  “Where’s Danny?” I ask Dad, but he gives me a serious look like I didn’t listen to his Very Important Comment about how I’m not having enough fun.

  “I’m sure he’s catching up with friends,” Dad says. “He must miss everyone. Enjoy your cake, Clo.”

  I walk into the living room and down to the basement. There are other kids everywhere, but no Danny.

  I keep calling out his name, but it doesn’t matter because he can’t hear it. I know he’s back home, watching the shadows of the party through his window and wishing it would end, at the same exact moment I’m wishing it could go on all night.

  I leave my own party.

  I don’t want to, but I have to.

  Rachel forgot to tell me that magic is a responsibility. That magic is a thing you have to live up to. A thing you have to prove you’re worthy of.

  No one blocks the door. No one even sees me go.

  Danny’s on his couch, where Danny always is. I think the couch would look strange without him on it now. He’s part of the pattern.

  “You left,” I say.

  “You didn’t even know I was there.” The difference between me and Danny—there are many, but the one I’m thinking of now—is that Danny expects to be seen and I don’t.

  “No one knows that I’m not there right now,” I say. “And it’s my actual birthday.”

  “So that makes it okay for you to forget about me?”

  “I can’t forget about you!” I say. I boom. I’ve never boomed before. “I can’t care about anything else because it all seems stupid if I put it up against you and what I have to do for you. I can’t audition for the school play or compete in the spelling bee or read a whole book cover to cover because I’m too busy thinking about you. And planning to run away to Vermont for you. And trying to figure out what makes you better and what’s wrong and what it all means. I don’t think about anything but you. Ever. Do you get that?”

  It’s then that I notice the shade of Danny’s skin—an oceanic green.

  “Stomachache?” I ask. Danny doesn’t even fight back against my words, so I know it’s a big sort of pain. A distracting, unbearable one. And I know if I step closer, the pain will ease up.

  I take that step. Of course I do.

  “It’s bad,” he says. He lowers his head, and I remember that this isn’t what Danny chose. Neither of us chose this. I take another step to him and another.

  Our knees touch and we sit in silence and Danny’s hands move away from his sides and he relaxes. His normal Danny-color comes back. He isn’t all better. If before he was the color of the ocean, now he’s got a shade of sea glass in his cheeks and around his eyes. I think there’s still a dull ache in his stomach.

  But I’m making him better. I can feel it happening, like a light inside me. There’s a thread between us, an invisible one, and when I’m near him, I can feel it waving. Then it stills.

  It feels that simple. I sit and watch his body shift into something comfortable. It’s as simple as a wrinkle in a bedsheet smoothing itself. I feel him unwrinkle, unwind, ease up.

  “Have I always been able to do this?” I ask. “When we were little and you had poison ivy did yours get better when I put calamine lotion on your back? Did your broken foot heal fast because I was nearby?”

  I wish my notebook were next to me and not in my desk at home. There’s still so much to research and learn and try to understand.

  “
I think you didn’t start being able to help me until I needed you to,” Danny says. “You know, like evolution. The need is there first, and then the solution appears, over time.”

  “Evolution?” We haven’t gotten to evolution in science class yet. It’s next, after we finish our unit on symbiosis.

  “I read ahead. I know you like science, so I thought I’d try to understand some stuff too,” Danny says, mumbling. He doesn’t like admitting when he’s being sweet, but he’s being sweet.

  I’ve been thinking I’m only ever doing things for Danny lately. But that’s not true. It can’t be. He does things for me all the time too, even if I don’t know it.

  “So the magic could disappear again, if you stop needing it,” I say.

  Danny shrugs. “I think so. But we won’t need your magic soon. After Vermont. Right?”

  “Right.” In my head I think only I hope I hope I hope over and over.

  I wonder if Rachel would agree with Danny’s assessment. I think she probably would. Magic comes and goes, she said.

  If I listen very, very closely, I can still hear the sounds of my birthday party next door. I wonder if they’ve saved a slice of cake for me. I wonder if it has a rose on it.

  When Danny falls asleep, as he always eventually does, I sneak back home. I deserve a few moments of time that are about me before we leave tomorrow morning. I deserve a birthday, even if it’s not the most important thing in the world right now.

  “There you are!” Dad says when I’m back in the house. “I was getting worried you might not make it back.” He knew without me telling him that if I wasn’t in our house, I was at Danny’s. That’s how it’s always been. No one has ever had to worry about where we are. We’re almost certainly somewhere together.

  Dad lights the candles and Elsa sings the loudest.

  “I’m going to wish for Danny, too,” she whispers before I close my eyes and blow out the candles. She gives Levi a look and he closes his eyes too, because three wishes are definitely better than one.