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Friendship Over (The Top-Secret Diary of Celie Valentine)

Page 4

by Julie Sternberg


  Saturday, November 13

  I just had a call with Granny.

  It was not good.

  I called to tell her that I’d used her pretty tablecloth. And also, to ask how she was feeling.

  I decided not to tell her about Jo’s egg yolk stain.

  I used the phone in Mom’s office. Since it was quiet in there.

  Granny answered after a few rings.

  “Hello?” she said.

  And I said, “Hey! It’s me! Celie!”

  There was a long pause. I knew Granny was on the line. I could hear her raspy breathing. But she didn’t say a single word.

  I was about to ask if she was okay. But then, in a quiet voice, she spoke.

  “Ava?” she said.

  Then I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say! I’d just told her I was Celie. Who was Ava?

  “Granny?” I said finally. “It’s Celie. Can you hear me? Is your phone working?”

  Again, there was a long pause. Then Granny laughed a little. I was so relieved to hear her rattly laugh.

  “Celie!” she said. “Marvelous Celie. I got confused, didn’t I? How strange. Let’s start over. Tell me how my beautiful granddaughter is doing.”

  We had a normal conversation after that. Until I said, “Granny? Who’s Ava?” And she said, “Well, Ava was my older sister. My sweet older sister. She died long before you were born. It turned out she had a weak heart.”

  I felt very cold then. Because why would Granny think Ava was calling? If Ava was dead?

  I couldn’t say to Granny, “You know that dead people don’t use the phone, right?”

  So instead I said, “I love you, Granny.”

  And she said, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  And then we hung up.

  Later

  The more I thought about Ava, the more scared I got.

  Mostly for Granny. Because probably something was going wrong in her head. Probably the frozen trash wasn’t just art.

  I also got a tiny bit scared for me. Because in my mind I kept seeing a very old dead woman climbing out of her grave to make phone calls. It was creepy.

  I found Mom in her room, packing. I sat next to some piles of clothes on her bed. And I told her about Ava.

  Mom’s face got very worried. She moved the piles of clothes and sat beside me.

  “I wish I could tell you that I know exactly what is happening with Granny,” she said. “But I don’t know.”

  “Will the doctors be able to fix her?” I asked.

  “I hope so,” she said. But I could see what she was really thinking. I could see that she was thinking, “Probably not.”

  I felt my eyes fill up then.

  Mom put her arm around me.

  “You listen to me,” she said. “Life has lots of stages. And all those stages have pluses and minuses. Think about babies. Everyone wants to hold them and hug them. But babies can’t talk to anyone. Pluses and minuses. Right?”

  “I guess,” I said.

  “It’s possible Granny’s moving into a new stage,” Mom said. “But if she is, we’ll find the pluses. And we’ll all be together, figuring it out. Okay?”

  I couldn’t think of any pluses to freezing every bit of trash and getting phone calls from dead people. But still, I nodded. And I said, “Okay.”

  Sunday, November 14

  I got in bed with Jo last night. Even though there is not a lot of room in Jo’s bed with Jo in it. That’s how worried I was.

  We slept like this:

  It was nice of Jo to let me sleep with her. Even if I got no rest at all. So I didn’t want to get annoyed with her. But I couldn’t help it.

  Because right after she woke up, she took her clothes out for the day, including her UNDERWEAR, and put them on my PILLOW. I do not want anyone’s underwear on my pillow! So I had to yell at her.

  Then, when I opened her top dresser drawer to show her where her underwear actually goes, I saw two tan bras and a bottle of deodorant. Tucked into the side of that drawer.

  I closed the drawer and got very quiet.

  Bras and deodorant scare me.

  At least Jo didn’t realize what I saw. Because she had left the room while I was yelling.

  When exactly did she get those bras? And the deodorant? Was Mom with her? Was it the most embarrassing day of her entire life?

  Why didn’t anybody tell me?

  What if I decide not to wear deodorant, ever? Will I get all stinky? In my pits?

  Later

  Mom made a long list of directions for Cousin Carla and put it on the refrigerator, under a magnet. Then she wheeled a gigantic black suitcase out of her room.

  “That suitcase is too big,” I told her. I stood in the hall, blocking her way to the front door. And hating that gigantic suitcase. Because it meant that Granny’s problems were big. And that Mom would be away for too long.

  “I always pack too much,” Mom said.

  That made me feel better. Because it’s true. She does always pack too much.

  I walked to the door with her, and Jo and Dad joined us, and she gave us all kisses and said she’d call every night. “Right before bed,” she said.

  “And other times, too?” I said.

  “Definitely,” she said. “Other times, too.”

  Then she wheeled her black suitcase out our front door and stepped onto the elevator and was gone.

  Later

  I have to try to dig deep now. Because Dad says it’s time for homework. And Friendship Forward is the only homework I have.

  I’m not even positive what it means. “Dig deep.”

  Dig deep!!

  I just asked Dad. He says “dig deep” means “search to the bottom of your soul.” So now I am searching to the bottom of my soul.

  I am still searching to the bottom of my soul.

  Maybe I’ve reached the middle of my soul?

  I want to watch TV.

  Monday, November 15

  Cousin Carla picked us up today. She was waiting for me in the school lobby after the last bell. I saw her before she saw me. I stopped at the edge of the lobby and watched her for a minute.

  She was wearing a hoodie with her short skirt and tights and boots. So at least her cracks were basically covered.

  But still, she was chatting way too much with our school security guard.

  Leave him alone! I thought. He’s supposed to be protecting us!

  And then I thought, Please don’t say bad words.

  And then I thought, I miss Mom.

  My heart felt wrung out then. I wanted so badly for Mom to be there, waiting for me. Wearing her jeans—which do not come down too low—and a super-soft sweater. Ready to hug me and ask if I wanted a cookie from the corner store.

  I definitely did not want Cousin Carla.

  I was already in a bad mood, too. Because Nora had sent me this note during English:

  Celie—

  Lula said that while she was in the bathroom she heard Trina say that your grandma is dying. I’m SO sorry.

  Love,

  Nora

  I HATED that note. I wrote Nora right back and said:

  My grandma is NOT DYING. Trina is an EVIL LIAR. Lula knows that! Plus WHY is Lula repeating NASTY, WRONG RUMORS that she hears in the BATHROOM?

  Then, right at the end of school, Miss Wilde pulled me and Lula aside to give us a wacko Friendship Forward homework assignment. I still don’t understand it. Because the whole time I was glaring at Lula and thinking, Bathroom Rumor Spreader.

  I was getting angry with Lula again when Cousin Carla finally spotted me. And shouted across the lobby, “Celie! I’m here! Come!”

  I didn’t know why she couldn’t come to me. But I walked over there.

  Before she could say anything, I asked her, “Is Granny dying?”

  “No!” she cried. Her hand flew to her chest. “Why would you think that?”

  “Never mind,” I said.

  And then Crazy Lunatic Carla did somethi
ng HORRIBLE!

  First, her face got very excited. Then she pointed across the lobby and said to me, “Look!”

  I looked—and saw who she was pointing at—and thought, NO! But before I could stop her, Cousin Carla was waving and shouting, “LULA! LULA! OVER HERE!”

  I wanted to punch her! And she’s a grown-up!

  I pulled down on her arm instead and cried, “Stop!”

  “What?” Cousin Carla said. Her arm was still up in the air, I was still pulling on it, and Lula was looking over at us. Lots of other people, too.

  “Isn’t Lula your best friend?” Cousin Carla asked.

  “No!” I said. “No she is not. Not anymore.”

  “Oh,” Cousin Carla said. She finally put her arm down.

  Then she apologized. At least three times. So I couldn’t get too mad at her.

  I couldn’t look Lula’s way. So I just watched the school’s front door. I wanted to walk out of it. But I couldn’t. Because we had to wait for Jo and stupid Trina.

  They kept not coming, and not coming, and I got madder and madder.

  FINALLY they showed up. They were laughing and paying no attention to anyone but themselves, and they knocked right into two kindergartners.

  One of those kindergartners fell over.

  Jo helped him up, but Trina didn’t. She just covered her mouth with her hand and laughed!

  “I hate Trina,” I said, watching her do that.

  “REALLY?” Cousin Carla said. She didn’t frown or tell me it wasn’t nice to hate, like a normal grownup. Instead, she looked EAGER. Like she wanted me to tell her more.

  “Never mind,” I said.

  And then I had to spend the whole way home trying to stay far away from Mean-a Trina and Crazy Cousin Carla.

  Later

  This is what Jo and Trina did all afternoon in our apartment, instead of studying for their test:

  TRINA AND JO’S FASHION ADVISORY

  Girls in Our Class

  Color They Look Best in

  Trina

  Foxy Red

  Jo

  Cornflower Blue

  Crystal

  Black

  Zoe

  Emerald Green

  Dee

  invisibility Cloak

  Julia

  Eggplant

  Elisabeth

  Turquoise

  Amber

  White

  I am not even kidding. I found that list right in the middle of our rug while she and Trina were in the kitchen getting their millionth snack.

  I made myself a copy on our printer without them even noticing.

  What they said about Dee is so MEAN!

  And what the heck is “Foxy Red”?

  Later

  Foxy Red just made herself a copy of that list and left. Finally. Her older brother, Nick, picked her up. He does that sometimes, if it gets dark out. Otherwise, she just goes around by herself. The way Jo wants to.

  I hate the way Jo acts around Nick. She talks too fast and laughs too loud and pays way too much attention to him.

  I guess she has a crush on him. But that’s embarrassing! Nick is in high school! He doesn’t care about a sixth grader!

  Also, he definitely needs to wash his face.

  Later

  Cousin Carla made chicken strips for dinner. Then she ate about a hundred and fifty of them. “I haven’t had these in so long!” she said. “They taste great!”

  It was kind of impressive, how many of those things she ate.

  Later

  I have to do my Friendship Forward homework now.

  Here is my crazy assignment:

  FRIENDSHIP FORWARD

  Please use this time to write about what has happened between you and your Friendship Forward partner from your partner’s perspective. In other words, (1) pretend that you are, in fact, your Friendship Forward partner; and (2) write about what has happened.

  Because I want you to be as forthcoming as possible, you need not turn this in. No one will ever read it. I just ask that you report back to me, on your word of honor, that you have completed it.

  Name:

  Celie

  Date:

  Mon., Nov. 15

  This is a very weird assignment. But I will try to pretend I am Lula.

  My name is Lula. I have red hair and brown eyes and I like to wear my sweaters tucked into my pants.

  One day a girl named Celie came over to my house. She and I had been best friends forever.

  We played in my room for a while. We were writing a skit about narwhals. Then we heard my parents shouting in the living room.

  My apartment is not very big. So it was easy to hear the shouts. My mom shouted things like, “You are CONSTANTLY criticizing me! I can NEVER do anything good enough for you! It is a TERRIBLE way to live!” And my dad shouted, “If you just made more of an EFFORT, maybe you would GET THINGS RIGHT!” And then my mom said, “I don’t want to live like this. I can’t keep living like this!” And my dad said, “No NEED.” And then a door slammed. And then the apartment got very quiet. Except we could hear my mom crying.

  It was very awkward in my room then. Celie had heard my parents argue before, and she never liked it. But this was definitely the worst ever. She whispered, “Do they get that mad a lot?” I shrugged and said, “I guess.”

  Then we were quiet for a while. Then Celie whispered, “Do you think they’ll get a divorce?” And I said, “NO.” Very loudly.

  Then I made Celie promise never to say anything about my parents to anyone. Not even her mom or dad or Jo. And she promised.

  About a week later I started being incredibly mean to Celie.

  The End.

  It’s me again. Celie.

  I’m glad my parents don’t fight like that.

  Later

  I just had the worst conversation of my whole entire life. With Mom. On the phone.

  She sounded so tired. And so sad.

  She said the doctors did lots of tests on Granny earlier today. They’re going to do lots more tomorrow.

  “Is she doing well?” I asked Mom. “On the tests?”

  Mom waited a second. And then she said, “We don’t really know yet.”

  But I could tell, from her voice. She did know. And Granny was not doing well.

  I told Mom I wanted to talk to Granny then. Because Mom was scaring me. But Mom said, “She’s sleeping.”

  I tried to think of something less scary to talk about.

  “Did Granny get my picture?” I asked. “The one of the painting she made me? I sent it last week.”

  Again Mom paused before answering.

  Finally, she said, “Yes, she got it.”

  Her voice sounded so worried and strange! So I asked, “Is something wrong with it?”

  And then Mom said the worst thing. She said: “Granny doesn’t remember painting that picture.”

  Which made no sense at all! How could Granny not remember? She just made that painting a few months ago. And it’s a wart medication bottle! That is a very memorable subject!

  Mom got another call then. So I had to hold on. When she came back on the line, she said, “It was just Meepsie.”

  Which made me think of something.

  “Did Granny forget where to put her trash?” I said. “Is that why she froze it?”

  And then I froze! Because I wasn’t supposed to know that Granny froze trash—I only knew from reading Meepsie’s email.

  Mom didn’t even notice.

  She just said, “Yes. Granny froze the trash because she forgot what else to do with it.”

  Questions started flying into my mind. These kinds of questions:

  What else would Granny forget? If she forgot what to do with the trash.

  What if she forgot what to do with the phone? Or the TV remote?

  What if she microwaved the TV remote?! It has metal! She could start a fire! She could burn down her whole house!

  “Granny can’t stay by herself!” I told Mom. “Not
if she can’t remember what to do with things!”

  Mom sighed and said, “Your father and Granny and I are all considering that.”

  “She has to move in with us!” I said. “We can take care of her. I’ll take care of her.”

  “Please slow down,” Mom said. “We must take this one step at a time. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Then Mom made me promise not to tell Jo. “The news needs to come from me or Dad,” she said. “Please.”

  So I promised.

  But I shouldn’t have. Because I need to talk this through with Jo!

  A Little Later

  I just looked around our whole apartment. Trying to figure out where Granny should sleep.

  The couch in the living room is too lumpy. And the only furniture in Mom’s office is her desk and desk chair, plus bookshelves and filing cabinets. So Granny can’t sleep there.

  I’ll give her my bed. And I’ll sleep on the air mattress. I think that’s the best thing.

  Only, maybe we could get a new air mattress. Because the one we have is leaky.

  deflated

  Later

  I just thought of something. What if I invite a friend over and Granny does something strange? Like talk on the phone with a ghost? Or give her toast a bath? What will my friend do?

  OR—WAIT! THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE!! What if Jo has Trina over and Granny does something? TRINA BETTER NOT MAKE FUN OF MY GRANNY. EVER. Or I will get her whole entire skinny jeans collection and cut it into shreds. I really will.

  I need to talk to Dad. Especially since I can’t talk to Jo. But Cousin Carla says he has a meeting and won’t be home until very late. That’s when she’ll go to her home, to sleep.

  Why can’t grown-ups meet during the day? Why do they ever have to meet after dark?

  Waiting for Dad

  So Very Late

  Dad’s still not home. I have Granny’s tablecloth in bed with me. I’m going to sleep with it spread right over me. Even though Mom hasn’t had a chance to wash it yet.

 

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