Book Three - A Codependent Love Story (Zelda's World 3)

by Paloma Meir

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Moreau. I’m Carolina. I don’t know if we can have a sleepover tonight. We just moved in, and my parents haven’t met you yet,” she said with a yawn while stretching her arms over her head.

  “We’ll have to call them right now.” Mr. Moreau put Zelda down and took out his phone to call our parents. This didn’t seem like a good idea to me. “What’s your phone number?” He asked me.

  I gave it to him not thinking this sleepover would be something he would be able to give his daughter. I was wrong. I didn’t hear what he said because Carolina and Zelda were singing again, but whatever he said worked. His daughter would have her slumber party. Carolina and Zelda jumped up and down with excitement. I wanted to go home but was too curious to leave.

  “Okay kids. We’re going out to dinner. Zelda you know where the menus are. Order some food for your friends. Have fun. Go to bed when Maria tells you to. Good night.” They waved and left us to the menus, whatever that meant.

  “What do you guys want to eat?” She ran to the kitchen and came back with a book of menus. “I like pizza but Thai food is good too.” We agreed on pizza. She called the restaurant and put in the order into someone named Saul. I worried about how much pizza she was eating if the man answering the phone was familiar with her.

  “Maria,” she screamed out to her housekeeper, “Please come and take Anthony for his bath time.” Their housekeeper appeared out of the corner, and took Anthony away without speaking to any of us.

  “Let’s play a game,” she said to us.

  “What game do you want to play?” Carolina asked.

  “I don’t know. What games do you two like to play?”

  “Let’s play hide and seek,” I wanted to explore Zelda’s house. “Carolina’s it. Close your eyes and count to twenty.” She covered her eyes and slowly counted. I ran through her house looking through all the rooms. I found an office not far from the living room and hid under a giant carved wooden desk. Zelda landed in the space right beside me.

  “Haven’t you played this before? You have to find your own hiding place,” I whispered to her.

  “Why would I want to be alone when the two of you are here?” She had a valid point.

  “Do you want to play a different game Zelda?”

  “No, I like this one.”

  We sat under the desk silently for a very long time. She linked her arm through mine. She would do this occasionally throughout our lives. I didn’t know then, and I don’t know now what it means to her. Zelda stared off out the window in front of us. I thought she was bored with the waiting but staring off I would find out was a habit with her.

  “You’re it,” Carolina tapped Zelda’s foot and woke her from her dream world.

  “Let’s play something else,” I suggested because this game hadn’t worked out quite as planned.

  “Let’s play dress up.” Carolina grabbed Zelda’s arm and pulled her up.

  “Okay. I have a lot of make-up. My mom gives me the colors she doesn’t want anymore.” Zelda took our hands and ran us to her room. I didn’t know how I would fit into their game.

  They sat in front of her vanity with the drawer open. It was packed full of make-up with brand names I recognized from the fashion magazines my mother sometimes bought. She applied the products to her face, and then Carolina’s. She fixed up my sister’s hair with a million different barrettes, all the while saying how they were the fairest in the land. Carolina was enchanted by their beauty game. Finished with their makeover, Carolina had an idea.

  “I am a witch, and I’m going to cast a spell on you. Lay on the ground, and we'll pretend it’s your grave,” Carolina's voice had a touch of madness in it. The grave request excited Zelda. She lay down on the floor. I mostly played sports, so I had no idea where they were going with this. I sat on her bed intrigued. Devils and graves, they were lucky to have found each other.

  “I sprinkle the lungs of flies and livers of toads on to you, Princess Zelda, so you may sleep a dreamless night of forever...”

  Carolina carried on with her description of animal and insect parts while Zelda lay on the floor, her eyes open wide with excitement for the twisted words of my sister. They were starting to make me uncomfortable. I hadn’t seen this side of Carolina before. They both wore full faces of thick make-up in bright colors. I wished I had a camera.

  “You will sleep a black night with the souls of walruses tormenting you...” She looked over at me as if she had forgotten I was in the room, “Wake Princess Zelda with a kiss,” she instructed me.

  I sat down on the floor beside the clown faced Zelda. She was the only one of us still wearing her bathing suit. Her body was skeletal and still bright white from the zinc-based sunscreen we had used earlier in the day. I leaned down and kissed her on the lips. I would love to be able to say it meant something to either of us, but it didn’t. She was eight, and I was nine. I kissed her so their morbid game would end. She popped up and screamed, “You’re it!” and ran down the hallway towards the kitchen.

  Finally, a fun game. We ran through her house playing tag all night. We ate pizza, getting crusts and crumbs on the floor that we were under no obligation to pick up. Maria came around now and then to clean up after us with a very sour look on her face. Zelda gave us more chocolate covered malt balls. I ate them this time knowing we would expend the energy. Hours went by with the three of us screaming, and our taps of “You’re it!” becoming hard slaps.

  “Zelda, bedtime!” Maria yelled to her. She abruptly stopped running and told us to stay where we were, ran upstairs and came back down with a giant t-shirt for me to sleep in and a pile of individually wrapped toothbrushes for us to brush our teeth with.

  “Carolina and I are going to change into our pajamas now. So you have to stay here. We’ll be right back, and then we can brush our teeth together.” I looked forward to the group tooth brushing.

  They came back wearing matching long princess nightgowns in different colors. Their faces were clean again. I had changed into the large t-shirt in the bathroom off the living room. She took us into her kitchen and set us up with cups in front of the sink, and we brushed our teeth. She brushed hers for a good three minutes. Carolina and I followed her lead.

  “Can we all sleep in the same bed?” She asked with a tilt of her head as if she were trying to understand the rules. Her minty fresh breath filled our space.

  “No. We can watch movies and fall asleep on your pillow pile instead,” Carolina answered as if she were an expert on sleepovers. She wasn’t. She would practically live in this house for the rest of her childhood, but this was her first night and her first sleepover. Zelda jumped up and down in response and led us back into her living room. She put on My Fair Lady. I was so tired from running around, I didn’t even mind.

  …

  I woke not to Mrs. Moreau but Zelda sitting up, watching me with a big smile on her face. I found it a little creepy. Twenty years later I would wake to her face with the same expression. It would feel very different.

  “My dad is still making breakfast. I made chocolate chip cookies. Carolina is making the bacon. Do you like cookies?”

  “Not usually for breakfast. How many cavities have you had Zelda?” She laughed.

  “I don’t have any,” She smiled big so I could see her strong white teeth. “You can eat the cookies later.”

  “Can I help your dad with anything?”

  “No, he’s almost done. Do you want to go see pictures of my mom?” She stood up.

  “Okay,” she led me upstairs to a long wide hallway. On the wall were dozens of pictures of her mother on the covers of European magazines, a few American ones too. In some she wore her long white hair severely pulled back, accentuating her fine bone structure and large brown eyes that were similar to Zelda’s. She wore clothes you would never see people wear on the street. The one that caught my eye was a black and white photo of her riding a horse in front of a castle. She was topless, a horsewhip in her hand. I didn’t und
erstand why anyone would put such a picture of themselves on their wall.

  “My mom is beautiful. I’m going to be beautiful like her when I grow up.” I looked down at her. I didn’t see that happening.

  “Anything is possible.” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Do you think breakfast is ready? We have to go home soon.”

  “I think so. Do you want to go for a swim before going back to your house?”

  “We have to go home and unpack.” I looked back at the horseback-riding picture one last time before we walked down the stairs.

  “Oh good. I’ll help. I’m very good at organizing.”

  “I don’t need any help, but you can help Carolina.” She was a nice kid, but I didn’t want her following me around all the time.

  I learned Sunday brunch was their one family meal a week, but what a breakfast it was. Rashers of bacon, sausage, plates of eggs with tiny vegetables I wasn’t familiar with at the time. Her parents talked amongst themselves about their travels and work. Her father every now and then looked over to Zelda to remind her of her beauty. Anthony talked a mile a minute to anyone who would spare him some attention. He grew annoyed by Zelda’s focus on Carolina. He pouted and laid his head on the table.

  Zelda and Carolina pretended to be abused scullery maids as they packed up the cookies to take back to our house. Their make believe games that were interesting the night before began to bore me. Their cries of "woe is me the plastic wrap is too heavy to stretch" seemed insane. I looked forward to school starting the next day so I could make friends, friends that were boys. I had been locked up with my sister for too long.

  …

  They unpacked Carolina’s room and moved the bed to the center, placing all the furniture around it so they could lie in it together and have everything within reach. A good idea in theory, but not something our parents would approve of at all. They ate their cookies in the centerpiece and switched their game to the ladies of the house who didn’t like the previous characters of the scullery maids, complaining and gossiping about them. I closed my door so I wouldn’t have to listen to them anymore.

  My mother served dinner early that night. She was tired from all the unpacking and wanted us to go to bed early for the first day of our new school. Zelda looked very excited about a real meal of roast chicken and vegetables with mashed potatoes. No phone calls to Saul that night for her.

  “Thank you for having my children over last night for the sleepover. Your father is a charming man. What does he do?” My mother asked as she sat down at the table, a fresh drink in her hand. She seemed a little shaky.

  “He makes clothes,” Zelda’s eyes were open wide looking up at my Mom’s unsteady movements. “Thank you,” she looked down.

  “Like the pretty dress you’re wearing?” She asked with a drooping smile. I was as confused as Zelda. My mother drank. I knew that, but until that night it had made her easygoing.

  “No.” She looked up and tried again with the enthusiasm she had at her home. “He makes ladies clothes, but he doesn’t like my mother to wear them. He goes to Europe four times a year and brings back stuff to makes copies.”

  “Well, don’t you sound just like Carolina?” She laughed. “I’m sure you meant clothes and not stuff,” she took a gulp of her drink. “So your father is a counterfeiter?”

  She looked to Carolina, trying to understand what was going on. Carolina looked as shocked as I felt.

  “Patricia, let’s go easy on our guest,” my father said with a smile to Zelda.

  “I don’t know what a counterfeiter is,” her voice grew smaller.

  “My mother doesn’t know either,” I whispered in her ear. I didn’t want her to shrink away.

  My mother opened her mouth to let her know what a counterfeiter was but my father stopped her. He wouldn’t last many more months silencing her, but he did try that night.

  “How do you like the local school Zelda? Is you mother very involved?” He asked her. I wanted everyone to leave her alone.

  “I don’t like school,” her eyes perked up as she spoke to my father. I felt a little relief.

  “My Mom was a beautiful model. Now she works with my Dad. She never comes to my school.”

  “How do you get to be a “beautiful model”? What school do you go to for that?” My mom asked her in a way I knew was unkind. Zelda thought she had won my mother over with talk of her beautiful model mother. I don’t like to think about this.

  “She didn’t go to school. She moved to Milan when she was fifteen with her best friend and worked really hard. She was on all these magazine covers. She met my dad at a nightclub in Paris when she was nineteen and had me. I was a happy surprise.” She smiled, proud of her heritage.

  “Well, Carolina, what a special person you have brought home. What a happy surprise.” Her voice was full of contempt. Zelda looked to Carolina whose head was firmly down. It would never be like this again. Carolina would fight back after that dinner.

  “Your parents sound like very interesting people Zelda. I look forward to meeting them.” My father gave my mother a look to silence her and spoke directly to Zelda with a warmth equal to my mother’s wrath.

  “It’s getting late. I’m going to walk Zelda home.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the chair she had turned into a stone sitting in.

  “Thank you for dinner.” Zelda's voice was firmly back to what it was the day before. “Good-bye, Carolina.” Carolina didn’t even look up at her. "Good-bye, Zelda," my sister, whispered softly.

  Outside on the street I kept her hand in mine as we walked down the road. She was so quiet. I didn’t know what to say to her. I couldn’t understand how everything had gone so wrong.

  “I’m sorry Serge. I’ll miss you and Carolina.” She sounded like she was going to cry with her whispery voice.

  “Why are you going to miss us? Are you going somewhere?” I was hoping to make her laugh. It didn’t work.

  “Your mom’s not going to let us play anymore.”

  “I can’t hear you Zelda. Where did your voice go?” She looked up at me “I’m kidding. I miss your voice though. My mom doesn’t feel well. Don’t worry about it. You’ll see Carolina tomorrow at school. She’s your best friend remember?" She smiled.

  “Are you still my best friend Serge?” I had hoped that my best friend would be a boy like me.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. You and Carolina don’t have to talk to me at school. Goodnight.” She closed the door behind her as she entered her house.

  …

  I walked home nervous. The first night in our dream home had been a nightmare. I wondered why my mother didn’t like happy surprises. I wouldn’t understand what Zelda meant for another year or so.

  I opened the door to hear my parents arguing. My mother stood unsteadily in the kitchen with my father who spoke in his soft-spoken way, trying to get her to understand how badly she behaved at dinner. My mother had always insisted Carolina and I treat our guests with respect and interest. I couldn’t understand why she wasn't following her own rules. I suspected the alcohol had something to do with it.

  “She’s just a little girl, Patricia. How could you have said those things to her?”

  “I’m sure the “happy surprise” didn’t even notice. Feathers for a brain is what she has in her head. Do you really want Carolina playing with her?”

  “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Albert Einstein. She has a good imagination.” I yelled out a quote from a biography I had read over the winter break.

  “Oh, Serge,” she laughed. “You too? Fine, I’ll be nice to the 'happy surprise'.”

  “Please don’t call her that anymore. Good night.”

  I went upstairs to Carolina’s room. She lay on her bed with all the furniture pushed back to a more traditional placement. She didn’t say anything to me. I sat down by her feet trying to think of something to say or explain to her. Finally, she spoke.

  “Does Zelda hate me?”

&n
bsp; “No. You’ll see her tomorrow.” I paused not knowing how to phrase my next thought. “I don’t think she has any friends. She said we don’t have to talk to her at school.”

  It seemed easier to talk about Zelda than whatever had happened at dinner.

  “She’s superior to them, that’s why.”

  “Goodnight, Carolina.” I didn’t want to say that she was more awkward than superior. I didn’t want to say or think anything. I went into my new room and read an old book called Cosmos I had found while packing up our home up in New York and fell asleep.

  …

  We stepped onto the bus that would take us to our new school. Carolina wore her new green linen dress. I wore jeans and a brown polo shirt. Looking out across the bus, I saw all the girls wore pants and t-shirts. They looked so much the same that I almost didn’t notice Zelda sitting in the fourth row by the window. Her head was down. Carolina sat next to her and tried to talk to her. She responded to her without raising her head much. I couldn’t hear what they saying over the diesel engine, but it looked like they were working out their problem.