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Worlds Apart

Page 13

by Luke Loaghan


  “I’m not a sexist, but you don’t know what it’s like to be a boy. It’s not that easy, to bring Christmas back, and to decorate. Things are not that festive in my house.” I sipped my hot chocolate, ignoring the fact that it burned the insides of my mouth.

  “I guess you don’t have the courage to try to bring a little happiness back into your family’s life. I wonder what your mother would have wanted.” Delancey stared at me as she finished her hot chocolate. We were warming up.

  “You know, if it was me, I would want that…someone to go the distance to do what it takes. I think every girl is looking for a guy like that no matter where or what the circumstances,” Delancey smiled.

  I accompanied her home, although she insisted that it was not necessary. We took the subway cross-town and to the Upper West Side. We walked to her building. A uniformed doorman greeted her. The doorman told her that her father was already home.

  “I had a really great time,” I said smiling uncontrollably.

  “So did I.”

  “Let’s do something again soon,” I belted out eagerly. She handed me a sheet of paper, with her phone number on it. We embraced and I headed home.

  I was on cloud nine, distracted from my studies and my homework. I heated dinner up, and we sat down and ate. Harry noticed it was the same meal as yesterday. My father said, “When you’re hungry, everything tastes good.”

  After dinner, my father walked over to the wooden cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Wild Turkey Bourbon. This always had an immediate relaxing effect on him, and he looked at us, and asked about school. Harry spoke for a few minutes about his high school band and about his football team. Harry was athletic.

  “Don’t waste your time on music; study something where you’ll be able to find a decent job,” my father bellowed at Harry. I wondered if Harry remembered that my father was once a talented guitarist, many, many years ago. It was my father who had taught me to play guitar. Harry seemed saddened and sullen.

  I thought about bringing up holiday decorations, but decided not to. My father was never in a good mood this time of year. The holidays changed his personality dramatically for the worse.

  It had been six years since my mother passed, and my father had never been out with another woman. I once heard my grandmother asking him if he would remarry, and he answered that it wouldn’t be fair to “the boys.” He always called us “the boys.” We had a small house with thin walls, and I always overheard everything said. My grandmother sometimes told him that “the boys” needed a mother and that he needed to move on with his life. My father always said, “Later, when the boys are older.” The holidays were always tough on us, but for the first time, I realized it must be tougher on my father.

  When I went to work, I noticed that The World Financial Center was decorated like a holiday gem. Christmas trees were everywhere. Large, fully decorated wreaths hung from the ceilings. Bright red and yellow poinsettias lined the lengthy marble staircase in the Winter Garden. Holiday music was playing throughout the building. It caused my mood to change, and I felt festive.

  After my shift at the café, I saw Reggie the security guard talking to a woman. Reggie was holding a box. The woman was the head of events for the World Financial Center, and she was throwing out a box of Christmas decorations. She had tried to give it to Reggie, but he could not use it. He asked if I wanted it, and I hesitated.

  I thought about Delancey, and about what my father would say. What would my mother have wanted? I decided to take the box home with me.

  It was not easy carrying such a large box on the trains, and up the subway stairs. I carried the box a few blocks from the subway to my home, stopping intermittently for a break. The box was heavy.

  Harry was already home and his face lit up when he saw the Christmas decorations. We pulled all the items from the large box including small artificial wreaths, ribbons, bells, garlands, and more, and decorated the house. After we were done, we both looked at each other in awe. This was truly something different for us, and we felt the same uneasiness when both of us wondered how my father would react. The hours passed in silent anticipation.

  My father came home and looked around in silence. He managed a forced smile. He went into his room, and did not come back out, except once, for the bottle of bourbon. The decorations made an impact, and he looked sad and happy at the same time.

  The next morning, he surprisingly made us an early breakfast. I ate the pancakes before I went to work. As I was leaving the house, my father walked me out, and said, “Sometimes you have nothing and everything…at the same time.” His demeanor had changed to one a little brighter.

  Mike was also late, as usual. The work day went fast. Many tourists stormed the World Financial Center. Christine suggested that I go with her to buy presents for my family. I was in the holiday spirit, making money, and felt like spending.

  I went with Christine to Hester Street, in Chinatown, and met Eddie Lo there. Eddie was quite the salesman, showing me many different items and offering me a special discount. Here I was hanging out with Eddie Lo, the coolest guy I knew. I was exhilarated.

  I bought gifts for my family. They had designer labels in them from famous brands, brands I could not afford. I wondered if they were fakes, but Eddie said they were the real thing. Eddie gave me a big discount on top of the incredibly low price, and I went home and wrapped all the presents the best I could.

  Christmas finally arrived. In the past, my father gave us cash, a modest amount that he could afford. But this year was different. We had presents to open for the first time in a long time. Harry was impressed with the new leather jacket I bought for him. My father reluctantly opened his gift, asking how I could afford these presents. I explained about Eddie Lo’s discount. He and Harry were very happy. It was a new experience to watch my father’s face as he opened his new coat. His face lit up when he tried it on. My father remarked that it was likely stolen merchandise. “I paid for it at a store and have receipts to prove it,” I blurted.

  At the end of the evening, I called Delancey, but her answering machine picked up. I left a message wishing her a Merry Christmas.

  Chapter 9

  The next day was the Senior Ski Trip in upstate New York. I stayed awake the entire night, nervous about being away from home for the first time, but also eager to try skiing. I had packed my underwear, sweatshirts, and jeans. I did not own any ski clothing, and wouldn’t even know where to buy it.

  My father was asleep when I left the house on a freezing cold Sunday morning. It was a rare day that he slept in.

  I carried a large, overstuffed duffle bag as I boarded the subway from Astoria. I bought the Daily News at five am. December mornings were painfully cold, and I felt a shiver in my bones. Subway service was slow. Hardly anyone else was on the platform. In the newspaper, there were several articles about a Pan Am plane that had gone down over Lockerbie, Scotland. There was a bomb was on the plane. This made me think about the bus trip, and my imagination took over and wondered what would happen if there was a bomb on the ski trip. For a moment I had second thoughts about going, but I shook it off and told myself that I was just being silly. This was not the occasion to be pensive.

  At the Queensboro Plaza station, two hoodlums entered the train car from the morning darkness. Although the subway car was empty, they decided to sit directly in front of me. They weren’t looking for conversation. Sometimes the nervous energy in my stomach goes into over drive in a bad situation. This was one of those situations.

  The men had hoods covering their faces, and large, puffy, extra long goose down coats. The doors closed and the train starting moving into the tunnel. I was in the car with the conductor. I’m not sure if they knew that, but I’m guessing they probably didn’t care. One of them raised his head, exposing his silver-capped teeth and a large scar on his face.

  “You going somewhere?” he asked.

  “School,” I said. My voice was firm, my tone was even. I wasn’t afraid.

>   The other one looked up and said, “You must be dumb to have to go to school on Sunday.” They both started laughing. Then they moved and sat on either side of me.

  My duffle bag was heavy, maybe 30 lbs. I wasn’t going anywhere without it; I needed this bag for the ski trip. The guy on the left grabbed my arm. The other one said, “Gimme your wallet.”

  I tried to stand up, but they pulled my arm down. No sign of the conductor.

  Both thugs started laughing. I did not know what was so funny. Did they have a gun?

  “Gimme your wallet!” he shouted.

  “All I have is my train pass and student ID.” My tone was now best described as nervous. I also had fifty dollars for the trip, hidden in my shoe.

  They burst into more laughter. They were laughing so hard, I started laughing too.

  When they saw me laughing, they fell on the floor and rolled over in uncontrollable laughter. I was laughing so hard watching them laugh, that tears were coming out of my eyes. The three of us kept laughing for a few more seconds.

  “We’re just playing with you,” one of them said. “Why aren’t you scared, we could have killed you. But I guess it’s not your time.” They got off at the next stop, and said, “Stay in school young man, or you’ll end up like us.” They kept laughing as they exited the train. One of them dropped a large jagged edged knife and bent down to pick it up. He looked up and smiled, and then the doors closed.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t afraid of death, but that was stressful.

  The conductor came in, looked at me and said nothing. I’m not sure what just didn’t happen, but I was glad that it was over. I was lucky after a lifetime of not being lucky in similar situations. Maybe my luck was changing. I sat on the careening train in the same seat for the rest of the ride. It was still very early on a Sunday morning; the hoodlums were probably high on crack.

  I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The bus headed north on a three hour drive. Most of the kids were talking, goofing off, or listening to music on their walkman. One kid had head phones that looked like he may use them for earmuffs. I closed my eyes and thought about how lucky I had been this morning. I could not figure out why I laughed, but was glad that I did, because it made a big difference.

  When the bus left Brooklyn, I was skeptical that we would find snow. I had never been to upstate New York, and didn’t know what to expect. The kids on the bus were rowdy, and boisterous. I could not sleep. Some of the kids started singing songs. The singing, clapping, and cheering grew louder with every song. Someone handed me a ukulele. I played while some of the girls sang. Everyone seemed to be taken back by how well I could play the ukelele. It really wasn’t much different from the guitar. Delancey was not on my bus.

  About two hours into the drive, there was plenty of snow on the ground. We arrived at the Valdis Ski Resort surrounded by snow and mountains. I had never seen mountains before, and the Catskill Mountains were covered in evergreen fir trees, snow, and ski trails.

  The trip advisor was Ms. Bulzer, my health class teacher. We were met outside by the other buses and two chaperones. It would be three boys to a room.

  Ms. Bulzer called out three names at a time, and said to go to the front desk to get room keys. I waited a while for her to call my name. One of my roommates was Eddie Lo, my friendly neighborhood Chinese gangster. The other was Maurice, the religious Jewish kid.

  We went to our rooms to settle in. Maurice unpacked his clothes, a bible, which he called a Torah, religious garb, snacks, and toiletries. He had a second suitcase with food. Maurice only ate kosher food and brought his own with him. I unpacked just clothes and toiletries, no snacks, and no religious items of any kind.

  Eddie was unpacking as well. He unpacked his underwear, toiletries, socks, boots, ski mask. He pulled out a silver .22 caliber pistol, nunchucks, a butterfly knife, ninja stars, and a red rope.

  Maurice and I glanced at each other. It was easy to take Eddie out of the city, but harder to take the city out of Eddie. Maurice asked Eddie why he brought the weapons.

  “These days you can’t trust anyone. Besides, you’ve got your religion, and I’ve got mine,” said Eddie, holding up his gun.

  “Do you really think the Deceptors would come all the way up here to cause trouble?” Maurice asked.

  “No one knows who the Deceptors really are. They could have arrived here by bus with the rest of us,” commented Eddie.

  “But this is a vacation from school. I think you are too paranoid; even if they did come up here, they would be out of their element,” said Maurice.

  “Look, I’ve fought the Deceptors before, on the subways, in Brooklyn, and in Queens. These guys are dangerous, and they will strike whenever and wherever. Death does not take a vacation. I’m going to be prepared for anything on this trip. As far as I know, you guys could be one of the Deceptors,” Eddie grinned at us in silence.

  “BOO!” yelled Maurice, and we all laughed.

  “Besides, this is a good opportunity for the Deceptors. They can rob our rooms

  while we are skiing.” Eddie continued to unpack. I was confused about his red rope. Eddie was being overly concerned, but there was a possibility that he could be right. I grew angry with the thought of the Deceptors robbing and stealing from us during the trip. I decided to stay alert and keep my guard up. I’d rather be safe than sorry. I decided to play it down a bit.

  “I think you are on the wrong senior trip, Eddie” I said. “The trip to

  Armageddon is not this week. This is the ski trip.”

  “I know. That’s why I brought my ear muffs,” joked Eddie.

  “What’s the rope for?” I asked.

  “In case I ever need a way out,” he remarked casually.

  A way out of what? A tunnel? A mountain? He didn’t make sense. Eddie Lo was the most famous or perhaps infamous student on the trip. It was hard to believe that he was my roommate. I was glad that I was on his good side, thanks to Christine.

  I peered out the window. Snow covered tree branches complimented moonlit white ski trails, and a family of raccoons scurried across the parking lot. The scenery appeared to have been tinted blue. On the far right side, there was a pond, appearing frozen over. The snow fell in slow motion. The image was beautiful and surreal, as if I had fallen into an Ansel Adams photo.

  Students gathered in the main dining hall for lunch. There was a large stone fireplace at the far end of the dining hall. Several kids stood in front of the roaring fire to warm up. The ski lodge was closed to outsiders. Its guests were our school, and another school from Staten Island. We joked around that the other school didn’t stand a chance against us on the slopes, even though most of us had never been skiing before.

  There were many students from school that I did not know. But I also saw faces that I did recognize. Natalie was there. Jacob was there with Sandra. And Delancey was also there, dressed up like a professional Olympic skier. Most of us did not own ski clothes, and wore denim jeans. Not Delancey, she looked like an Olympic pro.

  Eddie Lo was in his usual Chinese Gangster uniform – tapered jeans, black leather jacket, t-shirt, and spiked hair. Eddie was not going to be the coolest guy; he was going to be the coldest guy. He could freeze to death on the slopes by wearing such thin clothing.

  Delancey and I sat down at a table with her two roommates. I did not them know from school, but they were friendly enough. The ski lodge had a buffet lunch, consisting of baked chicken and French fries, and at least ten other items. Maurice joined us and ate a sandwich that he had brought from home.

  “Who’s your other roommate?” asked Delancey.

  “Eddie Lo,” I said proudly. The table went silent.

  “Eddie the Chinese Gangster?” asked Delancey. Maurice made it a point to take a large bite of his sandwich so that he wouldn’t be able to comment.

  “Yes, that Eddie Lo,” I said. I didn’t want to speak too much on the subject, and I certainly did not feel comfortable divulging Eddie’s packing
list.

  “I hear there’s a party tonight,” Delancey said eagerly.

  “Oh really? Should be fun,” I replied as the knots in my stomach tightened.

  “It’s a dance party,” said Delancey, staring at me with wondrous eyes.

  This made me sick to my stomach. I could live with a Chinese Gangster for a few days, but the thought of dancing in public was scary. Dancing was never my thing.

  Delancey and I were walking after lunch when we were approached by Juan Perez, the class president. Juan seemed like a typical politician, formally shaking my hand, saying and doing all the right things. Juan was in formal attire, suit and tie, despite the fact that we were on a vacation. He wore his trademark long black leather trench coat. Juan always wore a suit, and as if perpetually campaigning.

  “Where’s your room Delancey?” Juan asked.

  “I’m the last room in the West Wing where are all the girls are staying,” she said.

  “I’m in the South wing, first room on the right if you want to come by later. We’re planning an after hours party,” said Juan.

  “I’ll think about it,” replied Delancey.

  “I hope you have a great time and remember that it was at my urging that this was put this together…… at my constant requests,” said Juan. The guy was a constant self promoter. Delancey told me that Juan had asked her to the prom.

  “Did you say yes?” I asked.

  “He’s a lot to take. I can deal with him for about five minutes, but no more than that. I get the feeling that he only wants to go with me so that he can tell all his friends that we are going out. Juan is very self absorbed. I guess I’m looking for someone not like Juan….some one that would go the extra mile for me, someone that isn’t afraid or too busy to really go the distance for me. He’s not that guy.” Delancey looked out the window.

 

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