by Lexie Bean
Anyways, good night. Bye.
Wednesday, May 6, 1998
Hi,
This letter has four balloons attached to it and you’re probably wondering why. Well, I have a secret to tell you. I cut my hair a little bit after school today. Nobody but you can find out because I don’t want to get locked out again. I think it’s small enough so most people won’t notice anyways, but at least I can feel the difference. I did it fast in the bathroom using my craft scissors. This time, I made sure to clean it all up really super good and picked up every little strand off the tile. I wasn’t so sure where to hide the pieces, so I decided to put them all in this little sandwich bag. Luckily, I have been saving some of my quarters from the weeks I didn’t write, and got four balloons strong enough to fly the bag away. Haven’t you ever taken a big risk for something that seemed so small?
Well, there’s actually a reason I cut my hair today. It’s another big secret, and you really have to promise not to tell anyone. Like, a cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye kind of promise.
Mom and I went to Freedom Valu’s yesterday for her usual Mitch and Mary radio bingo cards. I chilled in the candy aisle because it’s not like I’m old enough to gamble anyways. They didn’t have my favorite Spice Girls gum, but they did have my second-favorite kind with a rainbow zebra on the wrapper. As I reached toward it, I noticed there was a lady or a man right next to me. I don’t know what this person would call his or herself, but he or she had short hair. It was like really short hair, spiky and brown, and he or she also had long eyelashes. This person smelled like the hardware store and was only a few inches taller than me. Most of all, their nose had a ring in it, and they carried a big container of orange juice by their side.
I felt them looking over my shoulder and I started to sweat a little. They said “Excuse me” in a deep, raspy voice. I almost forgot to move. They were just inches away and grabbed a granola bar that said something about eating breakfast all day on the wrapper. This person looked healthy and like they were surviving just fine. I bet they even had their own house and car, and they are growing up to be the best they can be. His or her haircut was really nice too. Did I already tell you that? I don’t know. I watched them push their hand through their spikes, and I said to them all in one breath, “I like your hair.” He or she smiled in such a nice way, it was like we knew each other.
Before I had the chance to say anything else, he or she unzipped their leather jacket and walked away. They got in line next to my mom and the beef jerky. I hope that Mom saw the stranger and had a good thought about them too. I could still see their nose piercing shine even under the crummy lights from across the room. But when it was time to go, Mom called the name Ellie from all the way across the store. She said it three times, each time louder than the next. I put down the pack of rainbow gum and brushed hard. It was horrible. That person with the nose ring looked over at me with squinty eyes. I bet they knew that I’m not really an Ellie. I don’t know why I think that, I just do. Gosh, it felt like they were my guardian angel or something. A guardian angel who drinks orange juice. Lookit, here’s a drawing of the two of us together under a lighthouse. That’s me on the left with the kind of hair I really want.
I wish I really knew this person. I wish I thought to ask for their name to somehow include them in a game of MASH and find out where I’m going to live, what I’m going to eat, and who I’m going to marry. It would be so cool if their name was Rowan too. Or what if they had a name that I’ve never heard before in my entire life? I might never find out until I’m old enough to have a car and get gas and orange juice at Freedom Valu’s all by myself. I’m now more determined than ever to get there.
I actually loved riding home with my mom after all that because I knew I didn’t just make the whole thing up. She for sure saw what I saw, and maybe Mom will tell the doctor she realized that I don’t have to grow up to look like her. Either way, Mom turned up the happy “Come On Over” song on her Shania Twain tape, and I realized it really is springtime. I think Shania would look really nice with a ring through her nose too.
I tried to describe the gas station guardian angel person to Sofie at our bathroom meeting today, but she didn’t know them either. She scratched her head trying to think about any adults she knew with their nose pierced like that. Is it weird to think about someone you don’t know this much? I don’t know, because after that Sofie told me she has been thinking a lot about Howie from the Backstreet Boys. I didn’t even know what to say after that. To be honest, it made me feel a little weird to hear her talk about boys. We hardly ever talk about that kind of stuff. Can you choose who you love?
Sorry. Anyways, I hope you like all of the balloons I sent this time. You can do whatever you want with the bag of hair. Maybe just throw it away. In the meantime, if you know who the gas station person is, maybe leave me their name or yellow book page under the WELCOME TO HOUGHTON: BIRTHPLACE OF NATIONAL HOCKEY sign. You know, the one next to Portage Bridge? In the meantime, here’s another drawing. It’s going to take me a while to shade it in right, but it’s me a lot of years from now looking happy.
Thank you.
Love,
Rowan Beck
Wednesday, May 13, 1998
Hey-lo,
Guess what. I have been doing my best confident walks yet. I can now keep my eyes off the floor when I walk out of the bathroom stall, even when my leg hair peeks out of my capri pants. Sofie and I even joked about writing in the bathroom stall “EXPAND!” just like the chalkboard in Mr. B’s class. I just always try to remember how confident-looking that nose-piercing person was last week at Freedom Valu’s. I’ll never forget how they even had their orange juice at their hip and free hand in their hair. His or her elbows were pointed like wings. I wonder if that person has a lot of secrets too. I wonder what they believe in. I’ve been noticing that the fewer secrets I keep, the more confident my walk really feels.
I wasn’t going to tell you this, but something else really big happened the other day. I decided to tell Sofie one of my biggest secrets, so please be careful with this letter after you read it. When we got out of school, Sofie and I watched the Trampoline Lambda Kappa Kappa Club climb into a carpool with that “I just want to fly” song playing real loud. I even saw Nathan Lucas’s dad pull up his truck behind them with a wave and a fresh shave. I should have felt more alone then, but I felt okay standing right where I was. I tapped on Sofie’s shoulder and said, “Let’s walk.”
When we got far enough down the hill, I told her, “My dad comes in my room some nights.” I felt a big lump in my throat, and I suddenly didn’t know enough to say more. She looked down, thinking. I almost regretted what I said because I don’t want her to think that Dad is what makes me a messed-up girl when I’m actually a messed-up boy.
I held my own hands and asked the sky, “I’m still like a boy, right? Boys can still get hurt, right?” Sofie finally looked up and did a small nod. In that moment, I remembered her dad. She said, “Yeah, boys can still get hurt.” It was really nice to have her listen, but it was hard, maybe hard for both of us. It almost felt like I was talking about somebody else’s life. Sofie reached over and squeezed my hand as if she was trying to keep me from floating away.
To be honest, I cried a lot when I got home that afternoon because I felt a part of me come alive. Like, I don’t know, maybe things won’t be like this forever? Do you know what I mean? Maybe you don’t know. Sorry.
You don’t have to burn this letter or anything like that, but please don’t tell anybody what I said. I’m still figuring things out, but for now I guess it’s less of a secret than it was before.
Rowan
Friday, May 15, 1998
Hi,
Since the last time I wrote, things at my house are pretty much the same. The only difference is that Mom and Dad have been a little bit louder and I care less when my dad talks about “doing h
is best.” After listening to them last night, I realized he’s not doing his best at all. It’s making me think more about the gas station guardian angel person and even Sofie’s dad, and how different they are from my dad. Maybe there are a lot more ways to be a boy than I thought. I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk about all that right now. You know why? It’s because I learned that not all secrets have bad feelings. Some secrets have good feelings, even if it’s in a confusing way.
I will say that Sofie hasn’t shared any of her biggest secrets with me. I know that she doesn’t have to, but the school year is nearly over and the mosquitos are starting to come out. I decided to try asking her about it today in the girls’ room. At the end of lunch, I waited inside of my favorite stall for her famous see-through sandals to show up under the door. Of course the Trampoline Club and all their new members showed up with their purple-and-white shoes instead. I tucked my legs into the door to make life easier for all of us.
Only one of the girls actually had to use the toilet, and the rest of them just stood at the three sinks blabbing about their weekend plans to go to the same skating session as some “cute boys” from class. They must have said “cute” a million zillion times, the very word the Trampoline Club gave me so much trouble for. I swear, crushes and the “the part” in Titanic are all anybody seems to be talking about anymore at recess, at lunch, and even before school. And get this—Courtney said she’s going to try holding Dylan Beaman’s hand during the slow skate on Saturday. This would be a major deal because three out of five girls talking today seem to like-like him too. I learned in math class that would be sixty percent of the girls, which is kind of a lot. The truth is, I put the valentine I made for Dylan Beaman in the trash weeks ago. It was much harder than it sounds because there’s still a part of me waiting for him to change his mind about me. Courtney has a much better chance with him, though. She has a girl name and glitter on her lips.
After Courtney shared her big skate rink plan, everybody giggled some more about Dylan Beaman and some guy I’ve never met named Jack Dawson. I don’t know. That’s when the only bathroom-goer finally finished peeing, and they all started singing that “near, far, wherever you are” Titanic song in emotional voices. I don’t know why they always walk around doing that. Needless to say, I enjoyed the peace and quiet once they left for the hallway. I took a deep breath and stretched out my legs until they cracked. But when I finally saw Sofie’s feet, I got a big burst of energy like a Pixy Stix sugar rush.
I swung the stall door open. It banged against the tile wall so loud that I bet the boys’ room could hear it. Sofie stood there holding the Rubik’s Cube that her nice aunt gave her. Sofie said, “Sometimes you have to make it messy until you find the answer.” She’s so smart. She has already solved that thing like four times this week, and still finds it fun and interesting. Maybe she’ll end up in the Guinness Book of World Records one day.
Instead of asking about one of her biggest secrets like I had planned, I surprised myself. I blurted out really fast, “Have you ever had a crush before?” I don’t know why I felt so nervous right after asking her that. Everyone and even Tiger Beat magazine talk about it like it’s no big deal. I almost wanted to take my crush question back, like maybe I should have saved it for the dark basement or at least for when we’re in different stalls. My toes curled up as I prepared myself to hear her say, “Duh, I have a crush on the Backstreet Boy Howie.”
But then Sofie stopped playing with her Rubik’s Cube and smiled a new smile, just when I thought I have seen all of her smiles. This one changed the color of her cheeks and made her eyes the shape of crescent moons. I’ll draw a picture of it for you so you can see it. I’ll add some stars in the background too, just because that seems like the right thing to do.
Based off of this picture, can you tell if she was smiling at me? Or do you think she was smiling at someone in her head? I kind of hoped that she was smiling at me. I also hope that there is room for me in her head too. It’s hard to know where I want to fit when all I want is to be a lot of things to her. I don’t know.
Before Sofie could even open her mouth, three skinny girls with big earrings walked into our fifth-grade girl’s room. One of them even had two piercings on the same ear. They were actually the high schoolers who come to read to the little kids at William Henderson Elementary. They just ignored us to gossip and fix their eyes in the three mirrors. One of them even looked behind at our bathroom stalls to say, “Oh my God, everything in here is like tiny enough for babies.” Sofie and I looked at each other and made our way toward the door. We both held on tight to our lunch boxes as we walked through the crowded hallway without saying a word. I just hope that Sofie doesn’t think of our bathroom stalls as too small after we graduate from here.
She never did answer my question about crushes, but there must be somebody she likes other than Howie the Backstreet Boy. Either way, I put a Backstreet Boys poster in my room so she could see him if she ever comes over again. I guess it’s okay not to know what Sofie thinks about, right? I’m trying my best to listen and not always try to figure out everybody’s thoughts like a puzzle.
Anyways, if you want to, you can share a secret too. Maybe you can write it down somewhere or tell a friend? It doesn’t really matter what kind of a secret it is, it’s just good to try sharing sometimes.
Love you,
Rowan
Saturday, May 16, 1998
Hi.
I went to Sofie’s house today. We didn’t ask any more about secrets or play more truth or truth, and I’m glad we took a break from that. It was just a nice, regular visit on a rainy day. Her visiting aunt showed us really old pictures of Sofie’s parents and made us lemonade from a can.
After that, Sofie and I took Gushers up to her room to listen to her Selena tape. When we got to the song “Dreaming of You,” Sofie closed her eyes and laid down on her old roadmap rug. I ate my snack while she mouthed the words. I’m hoping to learn some of those lyrics before I have my long drive to the doctor lady tomorrow. I think it will help.
I really hope that you get to listen to Selena sometime too. She’s actually an angel now, but Sofie says that she still says hi to her poster every morning. Sofie also wants to get a nice farm tractor someday because Selena never lived long enough to get the one she wanted. My favorite Selena song is the first one on the tape. It’s called “I Could Fall in Love.” I actually haven’t told anybody that before. I just don’t want people asking questions and finding out who I’m thinking about when it’s playing. That’s what the song is kind of about anyways.
Hope your day has been good too.
Your friend,
Rowan Beck
Thursday, May 21, 1998
Hi,
For the past few nights, Mom has been sleeping on the couch under the DANCE LIKE NOBODY IS WATCHING sign. She looks awfully tired. I know this isn’t true, but maybe it’s because she has been up dancing all night. This morning I actually sat next to her until she woke up. There was something nice about seeing the morning sun on her face. Anyways, she wants me to do some extra chores so she can get a nap in before Dad comes home from work. He’s almost always gone way past the T-shirt store hours, so who knows how late that will be. Mom told me that if I do really good cleaning up that she will bring home extra suckers and maybe a free pen from her bank job. She’s trying to make everybody happy, but I’m not sure if it’s going to work.
But before I go help out, I have something very important to tell you. It’s really bad news. Sofie and Viivi have to go to their grandparents’ house for the summer because Mrs. Gavia has to work so much and Richard is still gone. I guess they’re lucky to have grandparents, because all of mine have passed away, but their grandparents live all the way in Detroit. That’s all the way in the bottom of the Mitten and so many hours away. I guess Sofie seems a little happy about it because Detroit has places we only see commercials fo
r, like Chuck E. Cheese and whatever. However, I don’t think Sofie realizes that my allowance won’t cover a calling card for long-distance phone calls. What if her grandparents don’t even have a phone?
Sofie said that she already tried begging her mom to let her stay home in Houghton, but no such luck. She practically shouted, “It doesn’t make sense that I have to be farther from Papa than ever.” She and Viivi have to drive down with her aunt just a day or two after school gets out, and she’ll be gone for almost all of summer vacation.
It’s not like I have the money to take a plane to see her either. Gosh, I wonder how many balloons it would take to fly over Mighty Mac Bridge, and all the way to Detroit. Or maybe I will need a flock of seagulls, like in James and the Giant Peach? Maybe I could sail with our refrigerator box? Sorry, I’m being super silly right now. I know. It’s just that I’m going to miss Sofie so much and maybe she’s having a hard time with it too. Why can’t they just let Richard out of that stupid place in Marquette, so everything can go back to normal and be okay for Sofie?
I’m especially sad about missing her birthday coming up. We were supposed to go downtown to see Mulan together, wave at the cars at Bridge Fest, and then sit on the sample tractors at Copper Country Mall’s until Sofie found the one she liked best. At the end the day, we talked about going to the restaurant in Kmart. I was really looking forward to all of that. It was going to be a perfect day, the perfect summer where I didn’t have to be at home and maybe Richard would finally come home. I wish I knew what to do. I know that everybody says that summer here is gone in a blink of an eye, but last summer was so hard. I won’t ever really understand what it’s like to be Sofie, but I just wanted this summer to be better for all of us.
