The Usual Rules

by Joyce Maynard

  After the divorce, I hardly ever saw Kevin anymore. When I went to visit my mom, he’d be checking in with Dad. Ships in the night, he called us. Sometimes the only place we actually saw each other was some truck stop where they’d trade us off.

  I couldn’t stand it if it was like that with Louie and me, she said. It occurred to her then that in a way, it was.

  Across from the Fairmont Hotel was a park, and beyond that a very large church. Todd told her it was a cathedral. I always wanted to try those steps on my board, he said, but there was always someone around.

  They crossed the park. He took the steps two at a time. When he got to the top, he set down his skateboard a few feet back and then started to build up speed. Wendy stood at the bottom.

  She imagined how it would look here on Sunday mornings, with all the people dressed up, going inside. This looked like the kind of church where there’d be a choir and a huge organ, candles, and maybe boys in long robes swinging incense as they walked down the center aisle.

  Todd was heading for the stairs now, the railing. She held her breath.

  Todd got most of the way down before his back wheels clipped the handrail. His board stopped in midair while his body flew forward, then down. He lay there for only a second before he jumped up, cursing. Wendy could tell he was hurt, but he was walking in tight circles, shaking one arm.

  You should sit still, she said. In case you broke something.

  I’m okay, he said. I just don’t want it to be my collarbone.

  His arm was bleeding, and one pants leg was ripped. He lifted up the back of his T-shirt. The skin was scraped away, but that was it. Nothing’s broken, he said.

  You need to clean that up, she said. It could get infected.

  It’s not as bad as it looks, he told her. I’ll wash it off in the all-night Denny’s.

  You can come back to my hotel for a minute, if you want.

  She thought about the girl in The Member of the Wedding and the soldier trying to take her clothes off.

  Jeez, he said. I can’t even remember the last time I had a hot shower.

  When they got to the hotel, the doorman wanted to see her room key. My brother and I were just out for a walk, she said. It’s our first time in San Francisco.

  I hope you went up to Coit Tower, he told her. That’s the best view in the city.

  When you pick a hotel, you don’t fool around, he said in the elevator.

  She opened the door to her room. The cashews and raspberries were still sitting on the tray on the bed. Help yourself, she said.

  He took a handful of cashews. Midnight snack, he said.

  She gave him a towel. He closed the bathroom door. In a minute, she heard the sound of water running.

  She looked around the room, at his skateboard leaning against the fancy gold wallpaper, her book, the empty Lord & Taylor bag, and the program from The Nutcracker. From the bathroom she could hear the shower running and Todd singing “God Bless America,” which people were playing so much these days, but in this funny joke way, like the type of singer that would perform someplace like a bowling alley. Then he was doing another number, as if he was that blind Italian singer she’d seen on TV, Andrea Bocelli, but with made-up Italian. Anyone who knew her would say she was crazy, inviting this boy into her room.

  She turned on the television and found MTV. They were showing the Madonna video. Her hair made her look like some woman in an Italian painting. If Wendy could be anyone in the world, it would be Madonna.

  The water stopped. In a couple of minutes, Todd came out, wearing the Fairmont Hotel bathrobe. Don’t worry, he said. I’m not going to try anything funny. I just thought it would feel good to put this on for a second. I never had a bathrobe.

  That’s okay. She handed him the bowl of cashews.

  This is the life, he said.

  Even though his mom liked Kevin a lot more than Todd, she’d gotten fed up with Kevin, too. The minute Kevin graduated from high school, he was out of there. Todd didn’t find out Kevin was gone until sometime in the fall, when he finally called home, hoping to get his brother when their mom wasn’t around. She answered instead.

  You’re about three months too late, she said. He took off. Darned if I know where.

  He must’ve left me some kind of message, Todd said. He wouldn’t just leave without giving me some idea where to find him.

  Wherever your brother was going, she said, it’s doubtful he’s got an address.

  That was a year ago September. Todd had been looking for Kevin ever since. Everyone he ran into, he’d show Kevin’s picture and ask, You ever see this guy?

  My brother always had this idea he wanted to be a snowboarder, Todd said. Even though he was never the most coordinated person. I’ve been thinking that he might have headed out west. Tahoe area maybe, or the Rockies.

  It’s really something, how you don’t give up, Wendy said.

  He’s my one brother.

  Here’s my brother for you, he said. When I was younger I was really into baseball. The problem being, I needed someone to take me to the games. At this point I was back living with my mom for a while, on account of my dad got this girlfriend that hated kids. But just because my mom let me come back, she wasn’t exactly the type to bring Kool-Aid to games and sit in the stands with the other mothers.

  So Kevin brings me. I’m maybe twelve years old at the time. He’s sixteen, and there’s sure to be other stuff he’d rather be doing with his Saturdays, but he signs the permission slip like he’s a grown-up, in cursive. Rides the bus with me to the park every Saturday and sits on the bleachers through all my games. After a while, I’ve got a few hookups with this other kid’s dad, where I could probably have got there without him, but he still came to every game just to watch. When I got a hit, I could always hear him cheering like a maniac.

  We saw this movie on TV one time when we were little, Swiss Family Robinson, about a family that gets shipwrecked on this island with no other people around. They build a tree house, but not just a normal tree house. This place has all kinds of rooms and lookout spots and there’s a swinging bridge to get to it, and pulleys to bring their food up to them.

  I saw that movie one time, too, Wendy said.

  So he gets the idea of us building a house like that someday, him and me. When we’re in bed at night, that’s our thing we do.

  We were just little, right—five and nine, maybe? But we made all these plans about how it was going to be on our island. Like one night we spent the whole time just talking about how we’d make a secret room with a trapdoor to store our stuff in, or another time we made up this imaginary meal with all our favorite foods. Kevin was always saying it would be nice to have a mom at our tree house, if she was like the mom in the movie, but I figured we’d be better off just the two of us, nice and simple. What do you need a mother for? I said. If all she does is tell you to pick up things and brush your teeth?

  Sometimes it’s important to have someone like that around, Wendy said. Even if you might disagree with what they tell you. It was strange, hearing herself tell him this. She knew how differently she’d felt in the past.

  What a person really needs is more of a sidekick, he said. Someone who can tell you you’re full of it, but in a nice way. When you’ve got a brother like that, you’re never totally alone. There’s always someone on your team.

  I know plenty of people who don’t feel that way about their brother, Wendy said. I know people who can’t stand their brothers.

  They don’t have a brother like Kevin is all, he told her.

  I’ve got a great brother, too, she said. Louie. Just the sound of his name in the room made something happen to her voice. She could see him in his bed, with his tiger tail pinned on his sleeper suit, and Pablo under his arm. She wondered if he dreamed about her sometimes.

  It was almost morning now. You probably want to get to bed, he said.

  Where do you sleep? she asked him.

  A guy I met skating’s been letting me
crash at his place, he told her. I’m only here temporarily, anyway.

  You’re heading up to Lake Tahoe from here? she asked. In case Kevin’s there?

  That was the plan.

  She wrote down her phone numbers—both of them, Davis and New York. If you end up in my town someday, you could give me a call, she said. I’ve got a pretty flexible schedule.

  Me, too, he said.

  Where are you going to spend Christmas? she asked him.

  All I know is, not Cleveland, he said.

  If you’re out here, give a call, she said. My dad and his girlfriend have a pretty relaxed policy. Nobody should be alone on Christmas.

  Twenty-Five

  After Todd left, Wendy couldn’t get to sleep. It was five o’clock in the morning, but in New York, it would be eight. She dialed her old number. Josh picked up.

  I was going to call yesterday, she said. But there was all this stuff going on with my grandmother.

  The grandmother, he said. I forgot about her.

  Yeah, well, my dad probably wishes he could. Then she wished she hadn’t said that.

  So you had a big old family-style Thanksgiving? Josh asked.

  It was kind of quiet, she said. Just the three of us. How about there?

  We were going to hang out here, but Kate kept getting after me about coming over to her mother’s place, and I thought it might be good for Louie, so we went. She’s a terrible cook, but she’d invited a bunch of nice people, and your brother seemed to enjoy himself.

  How’s the hitting going? she asked. Did you take Louie to that therapist?

  He spent the whole time playing with blocks, Josh said. A hundred dollars an hour, not that I’m about to argue if it does any good. When she asked him about his mom, he said she was away on a trip.

  How about at school?

  He hasn’t hit anyone lately, Josh said. He just isn’t very sociable. He never wants to go over to Corey’s anymore. All he wants to do is watch TV and play with trucks.

  Can I talk to him? she asked.

  Louie, Josh called out to him. Your sister’s on the phone.

  She could hear them talking, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  Of course you do, Josh said. Come on, Lou-man. You can watch TV anytime. It’s long-distance.

  More talk. Then Josh was back on the line. I guess he’s not in the mood right now, he said. He’s in the middle of some show.

  I really wish I could talk to him, Wendy said. I think it would be a good idea.

  Me, too, said Josh. I tried. I just can’t budge him.

  I’ll call back another time, she told him.

  Sounds good. He sounded distracted and tired.

  Josh, she said. I miss you. Not just Louie, but you, too.

  Oh, Wendy, he said. I miss everything.

  Garrett came to pick her up a little after ten-thirty that morning. Wendy hadn’t heard from her grandmother at that point, so she’d stayed in her room, drawing and watching MTV, and eating her room-service toast.

  We should say good-bye to her, right? Wendy said.

  They rang her room. She told Garrett she wasn’t feeling that great, so she’d just say good-bye over the phone. The turkey didn’t agree with her.

  What does? he said, but only after he set the receiver down.

  Garrett had gotten the truck going. So what’s it going to be, Slim? he asked as they pulled away from the hotel. Pair of tumbling tumbleweeds, loose and free in the city? We could go check out the hippies in the Haight or do some big-time tourist thing like ride the cable cars. Or go over the bridge and see the beach and the giant redwoods.

  The redwoods sounded good. She’d had enough of city life for a while.

  They drove along the water, where she’d been the night before, though she didn’t tell him that. The Embarcadero, he called it. She saw a bunch of skateboarders, but not Todd.

  There were crowds of people gathered around. Everyone seemed to be looking at the sky. Then they heard a sound like a rocket, and for a second all she could think was, Another attack.

  They looked up. There were five planes—not the kind regular people ride in, but fighter jets—streaking across the sky over the bay in a formation, like migrating birds, but fast as bullets.

  Is it war? she asked him.

  I forgot, he said. I even read about this. It’s the Blue Angels. They’re these fighter pilots who go around the country putting on air shows to get people excited about joining the military.

  As he said it they passed back overhead, so low that for a moment she couldn’t hear him. The crowds on the pier were cheering.

  The Blue Angels broke out of formation then, fanning out in five different directions. In a funny way, it reminded her of an old movie she’d watched with her mother one time, starring this woman who had been famous a long time ago, not for acting so much as swimming. They must have set the camera up above a giant swimming pool with a bunch of other very good swimmers in matching bathing suits so you could see the patterns they made in the water. That’s what I want to be when I grow up, Wendy had said.

  There might not be a whole lot of job openings for synchronized swimmers these days, Josh said. But far be it from me to get between a person and her dream.

  The Blue Angels were about a million times faster than Esther Williams and her team. But there was something graceful and wonderful about them, the way they corkscrewed over the bay, looping in and out around one another like a pod of dolphins. Wonderful and terrible at the same time.

  The picture came to her of the plane that day. She imagined it shooting straight as an arrow into her mother’s building. The passengers inside looking out the window, seeing towers instead of sky. The man at the controls steering straight toward the building. The look of fierce and deadly conviction on his face.

  Then suddenly, the sky was empty. The Blue Angels were nowhere in sight. You couldn’t see anything but the streaks in the sky from their last fly-over. Several minutes had gone by with no sign of the planes. You could see people milling around a little uneasily on the pier, scanning the horizon in different directions, listening. Nothing.

  What do you think happened? she asked Garrett. How can five fighter jets just disappear?

  Another minute passed. An uneasy feeling came over her, similar to how she’d felt reading those last pages of The Member of the Wedding, when she realized that John Henry no longer seemed to be around.

  Wendy saw herself and her mother crouched on the floor of their little closet when she was little, back when her mother still loved her father and she and her mom had waited for him to get home from the art opening he’d gone to without them.

  I bet he’ll be home any minute, her mother said.

  He’s going to be so surprised when we jump out in our beautiful dresses, Wendy said.

  She saw Josh sitting on the couch, his hands pulling at his hair, eyes fixed on the silent telephone.

  She thought about the sidewalk in front of St. Vincent’s hospital that day, that she’d seen on television—the rows of empty stretchers and the rows of emergency medical people in their white jackets, waiting for ambulances with nobody inside.

  What if the planes crashed? she asked Garrett. What if instead of fanning out like a flower, the Blue Angel pilots had got it backward and all five shot into the center, their paths leaving only a shower of spark and flame, a fireball of exploded fighter planes?

  I don’t think so, Garrett said. But he sounded a little worried.

  They heard a roaring sound, and like cowboys galloping in over the hill, they were back, but from five different directions.

  They’re okay after all, she said.

  Nothing ever happens to the Blue Angels, Garrett said. They’re not allowed to crash. It’s a rule.

  The parking lot was full at Muir Woods, so they had to pull the truck over to the side of the road. There were lots of tourists with cameras, and a couple of tour buses.

  The good thing is, most of these people won’t wa
lk in more than a couple hundred feet before heading back to their bus, he said.

  He was right. Once they’d walked farther down the path they had the place to themselves.

  Wendy had never seen trees like these before, so big, a whole family could be holding hands and still not be able to get their arms around the trunk. They towered over her, not quite blocking the sky, but almost.

  They had walked beyond the paved path to where it was just wood chips and moss. The air had a sweet, moist smell, and they could hear the sound of water running over the rocks in the stream alongside them.

  When you come here in spring, you can see salmon spawning, he told her. You could just reach your hand in the water and pick one up, not that I would. I like to give my salmon a fighting chance.

  They came to one of the largest trees. The trunk was charred, as if it had been burned, but it was still alive.

  That’s another thing about these trees, he said. Even when they burn, it doesn’t kill them.

  So they live forever?

  A long time anyway. Eventually, even redwoods die. Like that one over there.

  She studied it. The diameter of the trunk, lying sideways, was taller than her father. This one’s probably been down since before you were born, he said. Maybe before I was. It takes a long time for a tree like this one to rot away.

  Young saplings had begun to grow up around it, though. Another couple hundred years and they’ll be high as the mast on a sailing ship, he said. I always think it’s kind of reassuring, knowing that long after I’m dead and gone, these trees will be here.

  They started to climb up a steep embankment. They hiked for a long time. At one point, they had to climb down a little ladder that had been attached to some rocks in a ravine. At another point, it got steep again and the walkway was very narrow, with a drop-off so sharp, Garrett took her hand.

  They got to the top of a hill, and all of a sudden the horizon opened up and they were standing in a clearing with a vast expanse of deep blue water dead ahead. Fifteen more minutes and they were rolling up their pants legs and putting their feet in the Pacific Ocean.