Blind Squirrels

by Jennifer Davis

  The following Monday, I told Aurelia and Olivia all about my date with Jack – leaving out the part about Donna. Aurelia was strangely quiet, and then she refused to talk to me the rest of the day. The next morning, Olivia filled me in: Aurelia had a crush on Jack. I felt miserable. I had made our date sound like a very romantic interlude – when it was anything but – and I had hurt Aurelia in the process. To compound things, I now knew that Jack was only my friend, and I wanted things to stay that way. I searched Aurelia out and apologized. I assured her that I meant nothing to Jack and that I hoped he would realize what a great person she was. Thankfully, she forgave me.

  November and our next Bons Copains meeting arrived. Rita lived in Blue Brook – the same subdivision Laura lived in – and it was only a few miles away from my neighborhood. The Christmas party was going to be at Mrs. Kalakos’ house. Her husband Dmitri had come up with the idea to throw us a party. We all left the meeting excited and anxiously awaiting the chosen Saturday in December.

  Back at home, I took out my calendar to jot down the date of the party. I noticed that my birthday was coming up on December 1, and my dad’s was the same day. All at once, a flood of emotion engulfed me when I realized that December would mark the sixth month after my dad’s collapse. My dad might die soon, and all I could think of was having a good time.

  Things had been tough right after dad’s illness. We were getting assistance from HRS, and we fell behind on some of our bills. Eventually, Daddy was able to qualify for Disabled Veterans Benefits and Social Security, and we were doing much better by November. I hadn’t given Daddy’s ailment much thought since things had turned around. Now I found myself scared and feeling guilty. Why hadn’t I spent more time with my dad? Could I really be about to lose him? He seemed to be doing better, and he was no longer smoking. Could his life go out just like that – without any more warning?

  That night at supper, Rebecca and my mother got into a big fight. The stress proved too much for me, and I ran crying to my room. Daddy soon appeared at the door.

  “What’s wrong, Kat?”

  “Nothing,” I said. I couldn’t let him know how worried I was for him.

  “Things haven’t been normal around here lately, have they? Rebecca isn’t helping, and even Birdie is adding stress to everyone. Luckily, I seem to be getting better. The doctor says it’s a miracle, but that’s not right. He just doesn’t know how stubborn I am. I’m not leaving until my baby can take care of herself. What do you think about that?”

  Somehow, Daddy knew what was wrong. He made everything better without me even explaining my feelings. I guess he understood how much I loved him – I didn’t have to tell him. He patted me on the leg and left me to my thoughts.

  Later that night, Daddy was sitting in his oversized chair. I went over and sat down in his lap, and he rubbed my back the same way he had when I was little. It was the first time in years that I fell asleep in Daddy’s arms.

  The next club meeting was going to be at Max’s house, and – even though it was two weeks away – I couldn’t wait. I also couldn’t wait to tell Olivia and Aurelia. When lunch time finally came, I went running out to find my friends. Max was standing in his usual spot, but he had a new friend – a girl. I almost choked on my saliva when I saw her putting her hands all over my Max. This upset me so much that I couldn’t eat.

  She was back on Monday. They were laughing and flirting, and Olivia said that the hag was probably his girlfriend. Really she was anything but a hag. She had long silky black hair, a dainty perfect face, and a size five body. She was everything that I wasn’t. I hated her.

  Tuesday I learned her name. Olivia was good at snooping, and she soon discovered that her name was Trisha Byrd and she was a junior. She wasn’t Max’s girlfriend, but she wanted to be. Get in line, witch!

  By Wednesday, I decided that I had to do something. She was stealing Max right in front of my eyes. And Max loved every minute of it. He would deliberately wait until I was looking and then he would tickle her or pick her up. I had a feeling that he’d told her about me, too. She was constantly giving me evil and condescending looks. I couldn’t take much more. I had to take drastic action. It was time to write a letter.

  I didn’t finish the letter until Friday night, and I brought it to school on Monday. I let Olivia and Aurelia read it – nine pages, front and back. I wanted to give Max the letter during lunch, and neither of my friends believed I would do it. My only concern was Trisha. If she was with him, I knew I couldn’t approach him.

  Lunch arrived, but Max was nowhere in sight. I had the letter in my purse, but I was already experiencing cold feet. When Max appeared from around a corner, I almost swallowed my tongue. Trisha was with him. I guess seeing her gave me an out – I’d already told my friends I wouldn’t do it if she showed up. Olivia and Aurelia told me that they would deliver the letter if I wanted them to. I adamantly shook my head, and they assumed it was because of Trisha.

  Max sat on a bench in between a long line of people. My heart was beating in my throat as I watched Trisha sit down on his lap. Max quickly moved her off, and they both began laughing. They were looking more and more like a couple. I heard a voice inside telling me that I was going to lose Max completely if I didn’t make my move.

  My legs suddenly started moving in Max’s direction. Somehow, the letter got in my right hand. I utterly amazed myself when I stood in front of Max and said, “This is for you.”

  Trisha turned my way, and her look seemed to be saying, “Who do you think you are?”

  Max reached out and took the letter from me. “Is that all?” he asked.

  “It’s from me.” I’m unsure why I said that.

  “Okay. I’ll read it later.” He stuck the letter into his jacket pocket.

  Trisha stared at him skeptically. I could almost hear her saying, “You aren’t really gonna take that, are you?”

  I turned and walked away. My legs felt like rubber bands, but my heart felt very good. Max would know that I still loved him. He would know that he held my heart in his hands; he was my reason for living. He would know because I told him those things at least twenty times in my letter. He would know I really meant it because I swallowed my fear and delivered the letter myself.

  “What did you just do?” Olivia asked when I got back.

  “I gave Max his letter.” I tried to act cool and nonchalant.

  “You did it right in front of his girlfriend. What did he say?”

  “He said he would read it. He’s gonna read it!”

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Neither can I.”

  It was Thursday. I hadn’t seen Max since I gave him the letter. I wondered if he was avoiding me. I was nervous about the meeting at his house, but I was going nonetheless.

  I told my mom I’d be home before ten, and I started walking up the street to Max’s house. A car pulled alongside of me, and I turned to see who was driving. It was Lindsey Moore.

  “Hi, Kat. Want a ride to Max’s?”

  “It’s not that far. I’ll walk.”

  “Oh, come on. I don’t know exactly where he lives. You can show me.”

  I reluctantly got into her car. “It’s less than a block...” I pointed up the street, and we were soon in Max’s yard.

  We were the first ones to arrive, but Debbie Carson and Beverly Corley drove up before we went inside. Max’s mom answered the door wearing red knit Capri pants and a red and white striped sweater. She had her cigarette precariously perched in the corner of her lips. Corky was yipping in the background. I didn’t see Max.

  “Come in, come in. I’m Max’s Aunt Matilda,” so, she wasn’t my future mother-in-law after all. “Max is in his bedroom – just go on back.” She pointed towards the opposite side of the house, and I followed Debbie, Lindsey, and Bev to the last door. Debbie knocked, and Max opened the door. He told us to come in. I felt odd going into his bedroom, but he didn’t seem to mind. He even smiled at me as I entered right behind
Debbie.

  His bedroom was neat and clean. He had albums on his shelves and a stereo on his chest-of-drawers. He told us to sit on his bed. I turned around towards his bed, and what I saw amazed me. Stuck on his wall was my letter. I recognized it right away because my handwriting is very small and unique. Then I saw the key ring hanging underneath it. The same key ring I gave him for Christmas the year before. It had to be. It was right under my letter. Why were they hanging on the wall?

  Max noticed them at about the same time I did. In record time, he pulled both items off the wall and put them in his closet. Beverly saw what was happening, too.

  “What’s that?” she asked. “Is that a love letter?”

  “It’s nothing,” he answered, trying to avoid my gaze.

  “Let me see.” Bev was being insistent.

  “It’s just some notes I’ve been studying. Really…”

  I could tell Bev didn’t believe him, but he was guarding the closet. She couldn’t go through him, so she gave up. I noticed that Max’s face was bright red.

  We all sat down on the bed, and Max put on an album. It was Elton John’s “Tumble Weed Connection.” I noticed Max looking at me as the album started. Max – and everyone else in the universe – knew that I loved Elton; it was more widely known than my feelings for Max. Still, I didn’t deceive myself into believing Max played the album for me. I could tell that he also liked Elton John; he had several of his albums.

  A short while later, Max’s aunt called us into the living room. She and Max’s dad, Alex, were going out for the evening. Before leaving, his aunt told us that there was plenty of beer in the fridge. I looked around to see if anyone else thought this announcement was odd, but I seemed to be the only one.

  After the adults had gone, Max asked if anyone wanted something to drink. Debbie asked for soda, Lindsey didn’t want anything, and Bev asked for some water. I was playing with Corky when I heard Max say, “What about you, Kat?”

  I looked up and Max was getting a bottle of beer. “I’ll have what you’re having,” I said, trying hard to look cool.

  “How old are you?” Max asked slyly.

  “I’ll be fifteen in December,” I answered.

  Max handed me the beer in his hand, and then he got himself another one out of the refrigerator. I tried to open my bottle, but I wasn’t strong enough. Max took it from me and screwed the lid off. “Do you know how to drink it?”

  “Ha, ha,” I said with a smirk as I took hold of the bottle. I decided to try my hand at small talk…with Max. “Does your aunt live here with you and your dad?”

  “Yes,” he said flatly, and it seemed clear that he didn’t want to continue with that conversation. So much for small talk. I took a swallow of the beer. Max watched me with anticipation. I could tell he thought I had never tasted a beer before. What he didn’t know was that my dad let me drink beer all the time. True, I had never finished a whole one, but, since I liked the taste, I was sure I could handle it.

  Sam arrived a little later, followed by the other members who showed up. I was still sipping my bottle of beer, and Sam asked for one of her own. Soon, just about everyone was drinking beer.

  Around half way through the meeting – and half way through my beer – I began feeling a little tipsy. In addition, my beer didn’t taste nearly as good as it had in the beginning. Hiding the bottle behind me, I leaned over to Max and asked where the restroom was. He directed me, and, once I was inside, I poured the rest of that Miller down the drain. I sat down on the toilet long enough to compose myself before heading back out into the meeting. I sat beside Sam, who was behind Max. She saw the empty beer bottle in my hand and whispered, “How’d you down that beer so fast?”

  Max glanced at me over his shoulder. I could see that he was still nursing his first bottle, and it was only half empty. “Let me get you another one,” he said. Before I could stop him, he was up and in the kitchen.

  I rushed behind him. As he took another beer out of the refrigerator, I said, “That’s okay. Someone else might want another one, and I’d hate to disappoint them...”

  Max raised his hand to stop me. “We have plenty. Matilda bought four six-packs. Here, enjoy yourself.”

  Reluctantly, I took the bottle. Max watched until I’d taken the first sip, and then he said we should go back to the meeting. The beer was looking – and possibly tasting – more and more like horse pee. I felt like puking, but I couldn’t endure the ensuing humiliation. Instead, I decided that the best solution was to drink the beer as fast as I could – then I’d soon be through with it.

  The meeting ended around the same time that I finished the second beer. I felt very tired, and some of the people in the room were looking fuzzy. Additionally, I felt light-headed and everything seemed incredibly funny. Sam was thoroughly enjoying my intoxication, but she also worried about the consequences I might be facing.

  “What are your parents gonna say, Kat?”

  I hadn’t thought about my parents. They would kill me – I was sure. “Oh, they won’t care,” I lied.

  “Wow, that’s cool. My mom would strangle me.”

  My head was starting to hurt. “I think I should go home now.”

  I told everyone goodbye and started for home. I glanced back once. Max was standing in the doorway watching me. He waved goodbye. I smiled and waved back. I wasn’t sure if he was smiling back or if he was snickering at the drunken fool walking away.

  I arrived to an empty house – what luck! I went inside and got ready for bed. I was almost asleep when our car pulled into the drive. I could hear Birdie laughing and giggling. Mom came into my room.

  “Kat, are you okay? Why are you in bed at nine o’clock?”

  “I have a terrible headache. I just want to sleep.”

  “Have you been drinking? I smell beer. What’s going on?”

  My imagination was still working, luckily. “I spilled a beer in Max’s refrigerator. It got on my clothes, and I felt too bad to change. You know Max’s aunt wouldn’t let us drink.”

  “What were you doing in their refrigerator?”

  “His aunt needed help with drinks for everyone. I offered to help.” I would get an A+ in Fantasy for the night.

  “Well, you should get out of those stinky clothes – although no one will notice. Your father smells like a brew factory himself.” I was too young and too drunk to notice the bitterness in my mom’s last statement.

  “I’ll just sleep like this. I’m too tired to move.” I shut my eyes and was asleep in record time.

  My birthday came and went without much ado. Olivia and Aurelia made more fuss over me than anyone. The excitement about the upcoming Bons Copains party was too much for me – it overshadowed my fifteenth birthday and just about everything else in my life. Besides, my sixteenth year would be the one to celebrate – I could start dating then.

  Daddy turned forty-seven that year, and he seemed healthier than ever. Dad was spending quite a lot of time at Bob’s – a neighborhood bar – and this concerned Mom. He would leave before eight every morning and he wouldn’t come home until after two in the afternoon. Then he would head straight for bed to sleep off his inebriation. Mom would work hard all day, and, when she got home, Daddy would be expecting dinner right away. And, of course, Rebecca never cooked. Believe me, that was a blessing.

  My own affairs kept me from paying too much attention to the animosity that was building at our house. I didn’t even notice that my mom was becoming stoic, while my dad was becoming malicious.

  Shortly after my birthday, Rebecca announced that she and Birdie were moving out. She said she could no longer tolerate my mother’s faultfinding and insults. They were moving into a tiny one bedroom apartment about one mile from our house. My parents tried to point out the foolishness in Rebecca’s plan: she had no transportation, no one to help with Birdie, and she was six months pregnant. My mom also told her that she would try to be less critical if Rebecca would only agree to pick up after Birdie and herself. Rebecca
stood her ground. She was moving out the next day.

  After Rebecca and Birdie moved, some tiny semblance of normality returned to our lives. Mom became more jovial, and Dad stayed home more. I found that I missed Birdie, but we visited her almost every day. The peace that echoed through our house was a blessing. Best of all, I had my room all to myself again. I spent the day after they moved rededicating my room to Elton John, and every night I would fall asleep to one of his tapes.

  The day of the party finally arrived, and I was more than ready. Mom had bought me a new outfit and it wasn’t polyester or blue. I rode to the party with Sam – she’d turned sixteen only six days earlier. We got to Mrs. Kalakos’ house just before eight at night. A few cars were already in the driveway. Mrs. Kalakos lived in a beautiful two-story brick house with white columns out front. The front door opened into a large plush living room, with a winding stairway on one side. The kitchen was visible in the back.

  Mrs. Kalakos and her husband Dmitri met us at the door. Dmitri, as he insisted we call him, had a deep, dark tan and he was incredibly handsome: black hair and mustache, striking physique, and dark blue abysmal eyes. They jubilantly invited us inside and gave us the grand tour. Upstairs were four bedrooms and a luxurious bathroom. The master bedroom was huge and it had its own bathroom, too. The kitchen was full of cabinet space. There was a breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from a small dining area, and trays of food covered it. A table held more trays and plenty of cups, plates, and drinks. A hand-crafted oak door led out of the kitchen area and into a huge backyard. Another door led into the former garage, now a lavish game room furnished with a pool table, a Ping-Pong table, a dart board, and a bar with several tall stools around it. The door that led to the dining room lay just under the staircase, and another bathroom was just past the dining room at the end of a small hallway.

  I was sufficiently impressed. I’d never been in a house like theirs before.