by Louis Sachar
The phone went off in my hand. I brought it to my ear without waiting for the name to appear on caller ID. "Hello?"
"Hi!" said the voice on the other end.
It's funny how many changes you can go through in the half second it takes for someone to say hi.
It was a girl's hi, high-pitched and full of energy. My heart jumped as I initially thought, Toni! Then, in that same half second, my brain registered the voice. My heart still fluttered around a bit as I realized who it was, but I think that was mostly out of habit.
"Hi, Katie," I said.
"So whatcha been up to?" she asked me.
"Oh, you know, the usual," I said. "Playing bridge with old people."
She laughed, or at least pretended to. My statement was probably total nonsense to her. I doubted Cliff had told her about my uncle or how I was spending the summer. I doubted she and Cliff ever talked about me at all.
"So how was the movie?" she asked.
I didn't hesitate. I certainly didn't ask, What movie?
"It was pretty good," I said. "Kind of stupid, but I liked it." I figured that would cover most movies.
"Cliff didn't like it."
"Yeah, well . . ."
"He likes things that are deep," said Katie. "You and I are more shallow." She quickly added that she didn't mean that in a bad way. "Cliff's just very intense. You're more whatever."
"Whatever," I said.
Katie laughed. "Can I ask you something?"
"You just did," I pointed out.
She ignored my not-so-clever remark. "I want you to be completely honest," she said. "You owe me that."
I didn't see how I owed her anything, but didn't argue the point.
"Is Cliff seeing someone else?"
Again, I didn't hesitate. "Of course not, Katie," I assured her. "Why would you think that?"
"Oh, I don't know."
When you're playing bridge, the slightest hesitation can give away your position. Let's say the declarer leads a jack and you have the queen. If you think awhile and then play a low card, the declarer will know you have the queen. But if you duck smoothly, he might think your partner has the queen.
When Katie asked me about the movie, and about whether Cliff was seeing anyone, I ducked smoothly.
"We used to have fun, didn't we?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Yep."
"How did we let ourselves drift apart?"
I stared at the phone a moment, then brought it back to my ear. "I don't know," I said. "These things happen."
"We should get together again sometime."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," I said. "Cliff gets jealous easily."
"Really?" she asked, her voice brightening. "I guess you're right. You're such a good friend, Alton."
After hanging up with Katie, I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe I was a good friend, maybe I wasn't. I would have been a better friend if I'd stopped thinking so much about Toni.
Even when I lied to Katie, I realized, that was just as much for my benefit as it was to protect Cliff. I definitely wanted to keep Cliff and Katie together.
There was a depth of soul in Toni that Katie lacked. Although I guess my own depth of soul is questionable, since I was the one who had fallen so hard for Katie not that long ago.
I heard a knock, then sat up as my mother walked into my room. "I just got off the phone with Mrs. Mahoney," she said, her voice trembling just a bit.
She stared vacantly, then came over and touched my face with her hand. "Uncle Lester has passed away."
She sat down on the bed beside me.
51
A Very Scared Little Girl
You probably saw that coming. I don't know how many times I've mentioned Trapp's will and told you how sick he was. Yet I was stunned. I just couldn't believe it. What about the nationals?
There's a different kind of will, the will to live. Gloria was probably right when she said the nationals had been keeping Trapp alive. Bridge had more to do with Trapp's recovery than any of Teodora's herbs or crystals. But then, when he couldn't remember whether he held a jack or a queen, his will was broken. And so he passed away.
That was my theory, anyway, but what did I know? No more than Captain, probably less. I wondered what would happen to Captain.
"Passed away" seemed like an appropriate way of putting it. Over the next few days, I had this recurring image of Trapp sitting at the bridge table. He reaches into the bidding box, removes a pass card, and places it on the table. Then he slowly vanishes.
Leslie cried. Even though she'd never met our uncle, except as an infant, her tears did not surprise me. I had no doubt she loved him.
My mother cried too. That was a little harder for me to take. Maybe she confused her love for his money with a love for him.
Or maybe I was the one who had it confused. Maybe she really did love him, or had tried to love him, but he wouldn't let her. Maybe she was crying because she always called him, never the other way around. Maybe she was crying because he never accepted even one dinner invitation.
Maybe, since she couldn't have his love, she focused on his money.
I didn't cry. I just felt numb.
I thought about all the times I had told him I loved him and that he was my favorite uncle. No doubt those words were just as empty to him as they were to me. They wouldn't be empty now.
I went over to Cliff's one night and we played video games, but I kept hearing Trapp's voice inside my head. Chasing pixels of light. Like lab rats pushing buttons.
I told Cliff about Katie's phone call, and how I had come through for him, but he just shrugged and said, "Katie can get annoying, can't she? I can see why you dumped her."
We both knew it was the other way around. Maybe he was trying to make me feel better. Or maybe he was trying to make himself feel better for stealing her away from me.
There was no funeral or religious service. A memorial gathering was held at the Castaneda house. People were invited to "celebrate the life of Lester Trapp."
Toni and her mother met us at the door. Toni's mother and my mother hugged each other. Both women were sobbing. Toni and I looked awkwardly at each other.
Toni hugged Leslie first, which I suppose made everything legit; then she hugged me.
"He would have won," she whispered.
"I know," I said.
I could feel her tear on my cheek. I have to admit I also felt a little guilty. She was hugging me for one reason, and I was liking it for another.
Captain was there, and for the first time, didn't bark at me. He let me reach down and pet him as he looked at me with sad eyes.
I heard my name called, turned to see Lucy coming at me from across the room, and soon found myself engulfed in her hug. "We were all together just last week," she said, as if she and I were old friends.
Everyone gathered in the family room, where thirty or so folding chairs had been placed around the furniture. All my relatives were there, and I recognized a number of bridge players from the studio, including Gloria and Wallace. I also saw the woman who owned the car dealership.
Oddly, the folding chairs filled up first. Maybe people didn't think they should be too comfortable at a time like this. Toni, Leslie, and I sat on the couch, with me in the middle. Lucy and her husband were also on the couch, so it was a tight fit.
When everyone was settled in the seats, Sophie got up to speak. "I ran away from home when I was fifteen years old," she began. "I think people saw me as some kind of rebel, or maybe a carefree flower child, but on the inside I was still a very scared little girl. I didn't know Lester Trapp. I had only seen his name on the court documents that Nixon brought.
"It took me six months to find him," she continued. "We didn't have Google back then." She smiled, and several people laughed. Then Sophie wiped her eyes on a tissue. Her voice quaked as she continued. "I remember it was the middle of February when I knocked on the door to his house. I must have looked like a tramp, all bund
led up, wearing every piece of clothing I owned. It was sleeting. Trapp opened the door and looked at me shivering on his porch.
" ‘I'm Sophie,' I told him. ‘Annabel's daughter.' "
She wiped her eyes again, then blew her nose. It took her a moment before she continued.
"He took me in without asking any questions. He bought me new clothes, and quickly became like a father to me, the way a father is supposed to be, the father I never had. He told me about my mother, my real mother. I knew it was painful for him to talk about her, but those stories helped fill a void inside of me. I found out who I was. I loved my mother, and through his stories, somehow felt loved by her."
There was no stopping her tears now. Toni was also crying, and on the other side of me, so was Leslie.
"I think his only disappointment," Sophie said, laughing through her tears, "was that I never learned to play bridge."
She was unable to continue. She sat back down, and other people stood up and talked about Lester Trapp. I found out that Trapp's body had been cremated. Toni's father read aloud from Trapp's written request regarding the disposal of his remains. "Throughout my lifetime, my body has been nothing but a detriment and a constant disappointment to me. To it, I say, ‘Good riddance!'"
This was met with laughter, but I doubt anyone really thought it was funny. When you're at an event like this, even though you're supposed to be thinking about the departed, you can't help but think about your own body and your own ultimate death. That's how it was with me, anyway, and I imagine it was even more so for the people in the room who were a lot closer to death than I was, statistically, although I was still on the lookout for falling pianos. The other thing I was thinking about when I was supposed to be thinking about Lester Trapp was that my leg was touching Toni's.
More people got up to speak. Nina, Trapp's ex-wife, had flown in from Indiana with her husband. She said that after their divorce, she and Trapp had retained a deep respect and affection for each other, and that he had always been there for her when she needed him. Her only reference to her sister was "the tragedy that brought Trapp and me together."
I felt like I should get up and say something too. I wished I had written something down. I'm not very good at speaking in front of people, and I was afraid that whatever I tried to say wouldn't make any sense, or else would sound childish. The only thing I could think of was that he had bought me a car, but that had nothing to do with how I felt about him, so I kept my mouth shut.
Teodora was the last one to speak. She said that at her first meeting with Lester Trapp, she was overwhelmed by his great and powerful aura; however, it sounded like she had said "his great and powerful odor." As she went on and on about Trapp's extraordinary "odor," I heard muffled laughter and saw a lot of confused looks. Soon the word aura was being whispered around the room.
52
Deborah in the Closet
A vegetarian buffet was served, and the gathering split up into groups. Family and non-bridge-playing friends ate in the dining room and kitchen, while the bridge players converged on the patio. Leslie, Toni, and I took our plates to the patio.
We heard a lot more stories about Trapp. They all began with something like "He was playing in four spades . . ." and ended with something like ". . . and he won the last trick with the three of clubs!" which caused everyone to erupt with laughter. Leslie would look to me for an explanation, but I didn't understand much more than she did.
Still, I enjoyed the stories. It was nice hearing everyone talk about Trapp. I was reminded of something he'd told me. His body might be gone, but the idea of Lester Trapp was still alive.
Wallace told about the time that Trapp was declarer in a five-diamond contract, without a diamond in his hand. "We had a slight misunderstanding during the bidding."
Even I laughed at that.
"But when I passed his five-diamond bid," Wallace said, "you would not have known anything was wrong from looking at him. The opening lead was made, I set down the dummy, and he simply said, ‘Thank you, partner,' as if he were in a perfectly normal contract. As I watched him play the hand, I kept wondering, Why isn't he pulling trump? Finally, an opponent led a diamond, and he discarded a spade. Only then did I realize that we might not be in the best contract.
" ‘No diamonds, partner?' I asked. He glared back at me. The thing is, he managed to hold it to down two. We lost eleven IMPs on the board, but if he had been down three, we would have lost by thirteen. We won the match by one IMP."
"Lucky he wasn't doubled," said Leslie, surprising everyone, I think, with her bridge knowledge.
"No, he would have been happy to have been doubled," explained the woman who sold me my car. "Then he would have gotten another chance to bid."
"I have a story," I said, suddenly finding my courage.
I told about my first day as Trapp's cardturner, and how he had called me a moron and imbecile when I first tried to give him his hand. "I didn't know what I did wrong, but you should have heard him scream at me!"
"We did," said someone I recognized from the club.
I then told about the car ride home and those thirteen letters, "G-b-c-d-i-o-a-o-r-y-t-g-l." I asked if anyone could repeat them, but nobody volunteered.
"Then he gave me the same letters in a different order. G-i-r-l, b-o-y, c-a-t, d-o-g."
By the time I got to cat, several of them were saying the letters right with me.
"Thirteen letters," said Arnold. "The number of cards in a bridge hand."
"Divided into four suits," said Wallace.
Toni smiled at me as if to say, "You did good."
By the way, if you're wondering how I could have recited those letters out of order, I used a little trick, which I think might be the same trick Trapp used. I began with the first letter of girl, then the first letter of boy, then cat, then dog; then the second letter of each word, and so forth.
That is the way I wrote it in chapter ten of this book, but that was just a guess. I can't say for certain in what order Trapp gave me those letters.
Arnold's wife, Deborah, had the best Trapp story. The story took place before she and Arnold were married.
Trapp was living in an apartment in Norwalk, Connecticut, at the time. There was a regional in Bridgeport, not too far away, and Trapp had let Deborah crash on his sofa for the tournament.
"It was my first day there," Deborah said. "He was playing in a pairs game and I was in a knockout, so I got back to the apartment before he did. There was only one bathroom, and being the good guest, I took my shower before he came home. It wasn't until after I stepped out of the shower that I noticed there weren't any towels."
"Typical," said Lucy.
"So, very wet and very naked, I peeked out the bathroom door, to make sure the coast was clear, then ran into the hall and quickly tried to find a linen closet."
"Uh-oh," said Leslie.
"Uh-oh is right," said Deborah. "I suddenly heard the front door start to open."
Leslie gasped.
"I ducked into some sort of utility closet," said Deborah. "A second later I hear Trapp just outside my door, muttering to himself about some stupid bridge hand. ‘If I try to pull trump they'll tap me in hearts. But if I don't pull trump they'll ruff clubs.' This goes on for I don't know how long. I'm in there, freezing my"—she looked at Leslie—"freezing my nose off, and he's right outside muttering to himself."
"Wasn't there anything in the closet you could use to cover yourself up?" asked Leslie.
"There was a vacuum cleaner," said Deborah, "but I couldn't figure out how that would help me. I also noticed some rolls of toilet paper, and actually thought about trying to wrap myself, but I figured that would be more embarrassing than being naked. Finally I just decided that the best defense was a good offense. I stepped out of the closet, in all my glory, and demanded, ‘Where do you keep the damn towels!' "
Leslie covered her mouth with her hand.
"Trapp looked up at me for no more than half a second; then he hand
ed me this torn envelope with a bridge diagram scrawled on it and asked, ‘How would you play four spades after the lead of the three of clubs?' "
53
A Fresh Start
I have a confession to make: before leaving my uncle's memorial, I asked Toni if she wanted to play bridge sometime, "as a tribute to Trapp."
"He'd like that," she agreed, wiping away a tear.
So, does that make me a rotten human being? Was I just exploiting my uncle's death to pick up a girl?
I don't think I was doing that. I think I really did think that playing bridge with Toni would be a fitting tribute to Trapp.
If I really was just trying to make a move on Toni, then it was doubly rotten. Not only was I exploiting my uncle's death, I was betraying my best friend.
I was pretty certain that there was something going on between Cliff and Toni, although it's hard to tell with Cliff. He isn't the kind of guy who brags about girls. Not like Gilliam, for example. Whenever Gilliam talks about a girl, you can only believe about one-tenth of what he tells you. Cliff is just the opposite. He has a way of saying very little but somehow implying a lot. You always wonder what good stuff he left out.
Anyway, Toni and I agreed to play on Thursday, her usual day with Trapp. She e-mailed me eight more pages of bidding instructions, and I was in my room, going over them with Leslie, and trying not to think about Cliff, when my parents entered.
"Ed Johnson just called," said my father.
Don't bother flipping back through the pages trying to find that name. I didn't know who Ed Johnson was either. It turned out he was Uncle Lester's lawyer, the one who helped prepare his last will and testament.
My mother summed up our inheritance in three words. "We got squat!"
"He gave it all to charity," said my father. "Diabetes research, I can understand that. But cancer research? He didn't even have cancer!"
