The Last Name Banks

by Lacy Camey

  “You know what else you need?” Maycee said with a mischievous grin.

  I popped another chocolate in my mouth and sighed.

  “Yoga?” Norah volunteered.

  That did sound great. I could use the benefit of centering, being calm and deep breathing.

  “Yeah . . . you’re right. Oh, that’s a great idea. We could do a class. We can even invite the children to participate. It’s a sort of PE elective. I can definitely lead the class. Now for yoga mats . . . . ”

  I mentally thought about the courtyard right by the water fountain and realized that would be a perfect place. I guessed I could give each child a towel as a mat. But what about the washing allowance? Which immediately made me remember the sheets. I quickly looked at our beds and saw sheets fitted on each one.

  “Did you do anything to the sheets?” I asked, puzzled.

  “No, why? Please tell me you didn’t find any more spiders or bugs. I don’t think I could handle that right now,” Maycee admitted, smoothing her white shorts from creases.

  I realized who probably had helped me out. Josephina.

  “Excuse me ladies. Chloe needs . . . . ” Maycee began.

  “I need what?” I asked.

  She pushed play on her MacBookair. “Some ‘Moves Like Jagger.’” Instantly, the famous whistle with electric guitar melody started playing from the Maroon 5 song.

  She nodded her head and Norah and I couldn’t help but join as well.

  “See, that’s what you’re missing! The fun!”

  Then, Adam Levine’s intro oh’s started with the drum beat and I couldn’t help myself. She was right. I needed to dance.

  Our screened in bunk soon turned into an instant dance club. The three of us started busting our best moves as the chorus started playing. It was instant relief. Therapy. As if I suddenly took a spoonful of sugar. All my worries disappeared as I got lost in the moment.

  Maycee turned up the volume as she placed her laptop back on her bed. “See! All you need are your moves, Chloe! Those doctors can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine,” Maycee said.

  “You are so right! Those doctors can just shove it!” I yelled, and it felt good to say it as I spun around and shook my hips.

  As the bridge came on with Christina Aguilera, I got a little naughty with my dance moves.

  “That’s right, Chlo! Those boys don’t even know what they’re missing!” Norah said.

  “You’re darn right!” I shouted.

  “See, Chlo! You just need to learn to not care,” Maycee said as she did her best dance moves. “Repeat after me. I don’t care what people think!” she yelled.

  I started to repeat it and she interrupted me and said, “No! You yell it!”

  “I don’t care what people think about me!” I yelled a little and it felt great.

  “That’s the spirit! Now one more time, the three of us,” Maycee said, as Norah couldn’t stop from laughing. She was used to seeing me composed and never letting my hair down. But as soon as I said it, I wondered if anyone could hear our loud music and I quickly looked around, trying to peer through the screen.

  Maycee took my face into her hands, “You’re fine, Chlo! Just loosen up. Enjoy yourself. Be you!”

  “You’re right! I don’t care what people think!” I yelled once more as they joined me as the song died down. “Man, that’s exactly what I needed.”

  “Someone please tell her who she is. You’re Chloe Banks! You need some attitude, girl!”

  “And Maycee can teach you all about attitude,” Norah teased.

  She kept dancing. “It’s true! Now come on, say it.”

  “I’m Chloe Banks! And I don’t—” I began, but stopped suddenly as Maycee looked like she saw a ghost.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I asked. “Did something just happen?” I asked again, concerned.

  “I, uh, accidently might have done something you won’t be too happy about,” she said.

  “Well, what?” I demanded to know.

  “I . . . didn’t realize my live streaming webcast was on when I clicked play. I had it on from earlier on standby because I do—”

  “Live broadcast? I thought the reception was finicky!” I asked in panic.

  “Well, it is at times.”

  “As in live? The whole world just heard me yelling at the top of my lungs? Oh . . . wow . . . . ” I sat down on my bed and shook my head.

  “Uh, still are. But—” she motioned for me to be quiet and turned around.

  “And that my friends, is how one lifts their spirits in a foreign country when one crosses scumbags and jerks. Until next time.” Maycee smiled and flipped her hair and blew a kiss. She pushed a button and placed the laptop back on the bed. The music went off.

  “Are you kidding me!?” I yelled.

  Norah was speechless.

  “Chloe. You know what? It’s okay. You’re a grown woman. Chloe. It’s not the worst thing in the world. Think of it as a baby step to your not caring goal.”

  I put my head into my hands. “Oh no! Wait until my parents see,” I murmured.

  “Chlo. What is wrong with you? It’s just a little silly video. It’s not like your broadcasting you doing drugs, robbing a bank. It’s not even a sex tape. You’re dancing. Big deal! I’ve heard your father’s stories from Yale. He had fun. You can too.”

  “Yeah, but you—”

  “But I don’t understand, I know. I know. But it’s time to really—for real—stop caring. Sometimes the only way to swim is to be pushed into the pool.”

  Chapter Six

  The next morning I reported to the doctor’s quarters feeling optimistic and strong, but I was dismissed without further explanation beyond the words, “Sorry pretty lady, you’re not needed today. Why don’t you go sightsee with your guards.” Just what exactly did the earlier nurse whom I was relieving actually do? I really started to wonder. Did she do anything? Or was I just being treated this way because of my last name? Or was I just being too introspective again? Ugh! I really needed to stop this dissecting of everything and not care. What a waste of energy.

  After feeling hopeless from being dismissed again from the doctors, I decided I had to make myself useful. That was one thing about me that teachers and professors always noted in my report cards and recommendations, “Chloe takes initiative.”

  So, I grabbed a basket from the laundry room and gathered all of the girls’ sheets off their beds and made my way to the natural spring water fountain out in the middle of the courtyard. The same fountain where I met Logan the first night of my arrival.

  The pouring water provided a relaxing sound, but not a pleasant smell. Which made this fountain no doubt not safe for drinking, but perfectly safe for washing. I would wash the old fashioned way, by hand, which was simple, right? Surely I can’t mess that up. Gosh, I hope not. But I had to try.

  I reached in my bag and pulled out my supplies I brought with me—cute wooden clothespins with butterflies and ladybugs super glued on them. I purchased them at a market in Austin with the children in mind. I wanted to use them for making fun medical files for each child to see and for them to feel special. The medical files I was yet to create because someone denied me access. Grumpy doctors.

  But, moving on—I gently unwrapped one of the herb bundles I purchased earlier that morning when I went to the local village with Steve and Vinny. I dragged them with me on a mission to look for anything I could buy to help the orphanage out. When I found a fresh flower herbiest, I was beyond ecstatic. I finally felt in my element for a brief moment. One of my hobbies was holistic studies and I knew exactly just which herbs to purchase and which flowers would bring sweet fresh aromas.

  The young woman selling the flowers and herbs had kind light hazel eyes and long lustrous hair. She appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties. She lifted a pale pink orchid to my nose asking, “Te gusta?” Do I like? The smell was so fragrant, intoxicating that I wished I could bottle up the smell for a fragrance.

&nbs
p; So I purchased several bundles and each herb was packed with fresh flowers and smelled just as wonderful as the sweet orchid. I left a generous tip for the woman and her eyes filled with tears as she exclaimed in Spanish, “A month’s salary in my hands? Wait until I tell Pappy!”

  And then I couldn’t help myself. I knew I had to give her more money. So I did, and she wouldn’t stop crying because of her gratitude which brought fresh tears of my own dripping down my cheeks. I was deeply moved, telling her I was very happy to give to her. She insisted on giving me more bundles and gave me a few bottles of essential oils, some of which were my favorite—eucalyptus and rose. We were both laughing as we filled up my backpack with the bundles when I had the idea to try and make perfume for the preteens and teenage girls. I asked the young woman where I could find small glass bottles for perfume and she directed me to another woman with a display of jewelry, pottery jars and glass containers. I ended up buying every small pottery and glass jar she owned and that would fit in my bag, in addition to the bags Vinny and Steve could carry, as the woman responded in the same gratitude and happy emotion as the first young woman. I left the village wiping what felt to be gallons of tears from eyes. We Americans are so blessed whether we’re billionaires, millionaires, have thousands of dollars or hundreds.

  These families lived off less than a hundred dollars a month. It made me feel so good knowing both of the women’s families would be taken care of comfortably at least for the next two months. I realized I was glad I was dismissed by the doctors this morning and felt like this was in my fate to come into the village and help the women. I definitely wanted to come back with Norah and Maycee and treat more women. It felt so good to make a difference and no amount of grumpiness from any doctor could take that feeling away from me.

  I felt an easy smile grow on my face at the earlier memory as I untied the yarn around two of the orchid bundles and dropped them into the water, hoping to neutralize the sulfur smell. I used my hands to get the fresh scent moving throughout the water, bringing my thoughts back to present. It was working. I poured a little detergent I brought from the laundry room. I put a few bundle of sheets in the water and started washing as best as I knew how—or saw in the movies with women washing clothes at the river or local water bank. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight and for a brief moment I imagined I was living two hundred years ago. I imagined a wooden cabin with a giant pot of soup simmering in the kitchen above an open fire while I laundered my family clothes. Then I imagined a husband, wearing a flannel shirt chopping wood with big, broad shoulders, maybe a beard and I imagined—

  “Great . . . now innocent animals will get poisoned by that mixture.”

  I jerked my head up and screamed. Logan smirked as my heart pounded from startle.

  “You scared me!” I clutched my tank top and sighed.

  “I’m just kidding. I joke a lot.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets and shrugged his shoulders. “Like the whole malaria thing the other morning, that was a joke. But sometimes it takes new people a bit to figure that out.”

  Ignoring his explanation, I said, “I was just trying to be resourceful. I know there is the energy budget and I couldn’t help but notice that the children needed fresh sheets so I started with the girls first. The doctors pretty much think I’m a joke and they’re not letting me help. So, I’m bringing my help, my health help, elsewhere. Here.” I washed the sheets more furiously, realizing I was releasing some pent up frustration.

  He let out a soft chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “No, nothing. It’s just—” then he couldn’t contain his laughter as he helped himself to the side of the fountain, doubling over. “Oh, sorry.” He kept laughing as he held up his hands in attempt to gain more time to explain.

  I dropped the sheet in the water and sat back on my heels, wiping my hands on my jean shorts.

  “Just what is so funny?”

  He straightened up and said, “So, those doctors dismissed you? But there’s so much to be done. I don’t–“

  I splashed water at him. “Hey, why were you laughing?”

  “Oh, it’s just nothing . . . Okay, you just seem really into washing those sheets.” His laughter let up a bit. “You shoulda seen your face right then. It’s like you were competing for the golden medal in the Olympics for washing sheets or something.”

  “I made an herb flower tea bundle to counteract the sulfur smell for the children. Is that . . . is that all right?” I suddenly felt worried that maybe it wasn’t an okay thing to do and I had messed up again.

  “Yeah, of course. I mean, I really appreciate your effort and initiative and all. I’m just surprised the doctors dismissed you again. It seems like a bit of bullying to me. And I’m sorry, but—” he continued to laugh some more. “With those sheets.” He slapped his leg, laughing more. “You’re like a woman on one heck of a mission.”

  Ignoring his laughter, I challenged, “Bullying, huh? Kind of like the way you bullied me yourself in yesterday’s chapel message?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, spare me. The whole God sees your true intention.” I blew at a piece of my bangs that dangled in my eyes and stuck to my lips. I was sure I looked like one disheveled mess.

  “Right. The children barely have anything and I want them to see that it’s not about what they have, it’s about their heart and what they have to offer. And—” he stopped.

  “Oh. I guess I’m a little sensitive. I’ve been guilty of that lately.”

  “It’s okay. You’re probably shell-shocked. Culture shocked, huh.” He winked at me.

  His behavior towards me was a complete one hundred and eighty degrees. He probably felt sorry for me judging by his empathetic nature. One has to have empathy to run an orphanage. He probably saw me now as an animal lover sees a stray-there’s a magnetic pull to care for it and make its life better. He was probably one of those men who loved to take care of women who needed saving. Likes to fix things. He’s probably—

  “Here, let me help you.”

  “I don’t get it.” I shook my head.

  “Get what?”

  “Why all the sudden the nice card?”

  “Huh?”

  “From the whole malaria comment, to me bugging you from your little writing session when I first officially met you here a few nights ago. To me causing a disaster in the laundry room and you looked upset—”

  “It was a joke, remember? The whole malaria comment. And I was upset because that washing incident did cost us a bit in our budget. But don’t feel bad. It’s fine. Stuff happens. But, at first, it’s just—”

  “Just what?”

  “Just wasn’t sure about you at first, is all. A billionaire’s daughter with more luggage with her than an entire store has on display for sale comes prancing in with her Sex and the City girlfriends and I don’t know. Guess I pre-judged you. And you kind of remind me of . . . . ” He quickly looked at his dry cuticles and chewed on his pointer finger for a second. “But now seeing you out here this afternoon, I see you’re trying. Which makes you okay in my book now. Besides, I see you brought supplies with you and could need the extra hand hanging these sheets up before the sun sets in, oh, around eight hours. Judging from the sun’s positioning.” He looked up at the sky and took his hat off, a few lose hairs dangling in his face from the motion.

  Maycee was right—Matthew McConaughey locks for sure.

  He sighed. “Gonna be a scorcher again today. Handling wet sheets may just be the thing to help cool me down.”

  “So, I’m okay in your book now. Good to know.”

  “There’s more to the story, Chloe. But I don’t want to bore you and you need the help. Maybe another chat I’ll tell ya.”

  “More to the story?”

  “Yeah.” He placed his cap firmly on his head.

  A warm breeze floated through carrying the fresh orchid sent. I didn’t want to pry with more of his story because I hated when
others did that to me.

  “Well, are you sure? Don’t you have something else, you know, more important?”

  “It’s okay. We’re on Venezuelan time. Besides, I teach on Monday, Wednesday and Friday’s. And this is important and there are so many important things that need to be done around here. Sometimes they fall through my fingers.” He sighed. “But you’re right, they do need fresh sheets. And maybe you need a little supervision.” He winked again.

  “Hey . . . . ” I smiled. It felt good to smile a bit. “So jack of all trades. You teach?”

  “And I used to coach, too.”

  He picked up a few of the wooden clothespins that had ladybugs and other cute flies with rhinestones super glued to the pens.