by Lisa Yee
“Charlie will live with me,” my mother was saying. How long had she been talking?
I nodded. Charlie made a wailing sound and clutched a pillow. Mom went to hug her, but my sister batted her away.
“Do you still love him?” I asked.
“No matter what happens between us, we will always be your parents — we have that in common,” she said, not answering my question. “And we have you and Charlie.”
And Jeffrey, I wanted to add. There was Jeffrey too. But I didn’t say anything. My mother was sad enough as it was.
My stomach churned. I could hear my father’s Porsche pulling into the driveway. I braced myself knowing that what had been a shitty day was going to get a whole lot shittier. From the kitchen, I strained to hear my parents talking. No voices were raised, but there was a definite hum of deep discord punctuated by my mother crying, “No, that’s not possible!”
Could he hurt her even more?
“Higgs?” My father summoned me to the living room.
Mom was on the couch, staring at Jeffrey’s photo and absentmindedly shredding a tissue. My father was in his leather chair, still wearing his white dentist jacket. There was a smudge of red on it. Blood? Lipstick? Even though it was early afternoon, he was holding his beloved Chivas on the rocks.
“Higgs” — my mother’s voice sounded thin — “your father has informed me that Harvard is reevaluating your application. Is there something you’d like to say?”
“Why are you separating?” I asked. “Are you getting a divorce?”
My parents glanced uncomfortably at each other.
“No, no divorce,” Dad finally said, clearing his throat. “We’re just taking a little break from each other, isn’t that right, Elizabeth?” When she didn’t answer, he repeated himself, only louder. “Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”
What an asshole.
Mom nodded. She looked tired.
“Higgs,” my father said, “was this SAP — this Society of Animal Protection whatever thing you set up legit?”
I shrugged. “We saved a dog.”
“I see,” Dad said. “Higgs, this could be serious.”
My throat went dry. “How serious?”
“They could withdraw your invitation to Harvard.”
A cold panic overtook me. I sunk into the couch.
My father tossed back his drink and set the glass down on the coffee table. Mom picked it up as if it were toxic and placed a coaster under it.
“I’m sure we’ll get through this,” Dad said in his take-charge voice. “We just need to prove it was real. That should be easy enough.”
“Do you have paperwork on it? Something to prove that it was real?” Mom asked. “Where is that dog you rescued now?”
“With Nick,” I said.
She nodded. “Good. Nick took him in.”
Technically, she was correct.
“I’ll talk to John Dullaghan,” my father interrupted. “John’s a Harvard grad and a corporate lawyer. I just pulled his wisdom teeth — they were impacted at an odd angle. He may be able to advise us.”
“Advise us for what?” Mom asked. “Higgs did nothing wrong. If anything, he should be praised for helping that poor dog and finding it a home.”
I could see how easy it would have been for Dad to scam her all these years. For someone so incredibly smart, my mother could be very naive. I could hardly look at my father. Suddenly, all those late night meetings made sense.
“Higgs, this is no joke. This is real serious stuff,” Dad said sharply.
I stopped smirking and nodded. We all knew how he felt about his alma mater. Jeffrey was the one who was supposed to graduate from Harvard with a DDS and then go into the family business. Nothing could stop him from fulfilling my father’s dream. Well, nothing but a bottle of Chivas, a streetlight, and a Toyota Corolla going 85 miles per hour in a 30 miles-per-hour zone.
“Elizabeth,” he said to Mom, “I’m going to get some of my things and I’ll go to a hotel tonight.”
Dad waited for her to say something, but when she didn’t, he got up and retreated to his den. That’s when Mom burst into tears. I never knew what I was supposed to do when my mother was crying. At least she wasn’t in her Robe of Depression. I hated that robe.
All of a sudden I saw Charlie lingering in the hallway like a misplaced shadow. I motioned for my sister to come in, and when she did, she went right over to Mom and gave her a hug. Then they both started crying. Mom with her familiar soft sobs, Charlie with a deep animal-like wail. It was like a cacophony of pain.
I needed to get away.
Please, please, please let her be home.
My chest was on fire, but I didn’t stop until I reached the Airstream. If I were running the 880, I would have broken the school record. I banged on the door with both fists. “Monarch? Monarch, I need to talk to you!”
There was no answer. Sweat was dripping down my face. I pulled the door open. No Monarch.
I ran to her flower field.
She wasn’t there either.
I checked the climbing tree, the car graveyard. Everywhere. But she was nowhere. I headed back to the Airstream to wait.
I wondered what was going to happen? My dad was moving out. Did that mean my parents were divorcing? Was I going to get nailed by Harvard? Who snitched on me? Suddenly, being called a Dinky Dick seemed quaint.
“Monarch!” I yelled.
In the distance, Monarch was striding toward me, oblivious to my pain. As soon as I saw her, I felt relief wash over me and I was able to breathe.
Monarch didn’t look surprised to see me, and I tried to play it cool, but my heart was racing. I wasn’t sure if it was the proximity to her or my crumbling life that was causing the palpitations. In lieu of a hello, I handed her a bag from Benny’s B-Burgers, a gift I thought she would appreciate. Nick had worked there until a couple of months earlier when he got busted for charging four dollars to deep-fry anything anyone brought in. Most people brought Twinkies and candy bars, that sort of stuff. But when Archie Kunda gave him an old CD player, it messed up the deep fryer and Nick got fired.
Monarch rummaged through the bag, handed me the hamburger, and devoured the fries, eating several at a time.
“Don’t you want the burger?” I asked.
“I’m a vegetarian,” Monarch informed me. She eyed the chocolate shake still in my hands.
“So, um, what were you doing?” I said. Just standing near her was comforting.
Monarch held up a book. Arthur Rimbaud: Complete Works.
“Ah, good old Rimbaud,” I said knowingly. “I love his later stuff.”
“You’ve never read Rimbaud, have you, Higgs?”
I shook my head.
“Try expanding your horizons now and then,” Monarch said, “and read something other than what’s on the AP reading list or Vonnegut.”
“How did you know I read Vonnegut?” I asked, surprised.
“You reek of the type,” she said as she checked the bag for more fries.
I should have gotten the super size. I made a mental note to do that next time.
“Have you read Vonnegut?” I asked, glancing over her shoulder at her small pile of books.
“ ‘I can have oodles of charm when I want to,’ ” Monarch said, quoting him.
“Cat’s Cradle,” I told her.
“Breakfast of Champions,” she corrected me.
“May I come in?” I asked. We were both still standing in the doorway.
“It’s not big enough for two,” she said.
I didn’t move.
“Is that for me?” Monarch asked, motioning to the chocolate shake.
“It is if you let me in,” I said, taking a long protracted sip.
Monarch took the shake and stepped aside. “Come on in, Higgs.” She released a heavy sigh. “But you’re going to have to crouch.”
I hoped she couldn’t see my face, since I was grinning like a kid who had won the giant giraffe at a carnival.
There was hardly room for two — plus, being that close to Monarch was making me anxious. I wanted to jump, or run, or pace, or something, but there wasn’t enough room. So instead, I devoured the hamburger as Monarch looked on in disgust.
“I wath hungry,” I said with my mouth full. Actually, I was starving. Stress did that to me.
Monarch was sitting cross-legged and her dress rose above her knees. When she saw me staring at her legs, she slammed Rimbaud shut without bothering to use a bookmark and adjusted her hem. “Okay, Higgs, spill,” she ordered. She removed the lid from the shake and took a big swig. “Spill,” Monarch said again, looking deadly serious, despite a chocolate shake mustache. “I can tell you have something to say.”
“My dad’s moving out,” I told her. I found myself pacing, hunched over in the Airstream. I could only take one step in each direction, so it was like doing the box step with myself. “My sister, Charlie, says she’s seen it coming for months, years even, and accused me of being too self-centered to even take note —”
I stopped and I waited for Monarch to make fun of me or tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself, but instead, she said, “I need a cigarette. Let’s go outside. I can’t smoke in this firetrap.”
It was dusk and the air was still. I swatted away a mosquito. In a single move, Monarch flicked open her lighter and produced a flame. I almost reminded her that cigarettes would stain her teeth, but stopped myself. I wasn’t there to advocate for good dental hygiene.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Monarch said as we walked up the path. “It sucks when people can’t get along.” There was no condemnation or sarcasm in her voice. Instead, there was a hint of sadness.
We kept going, the only sound being the occasional call of a bird or the crush of leaves underfoot. Despite whatever had been happening at home, I had never felt so at peace as I did with Monarch right then. I kept stealing glances at her. Monarch looked beautiful bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. At the thought of what I was about to do next, my heart beat faster. I took a deep breath to fortify myself.
As if she knew, Monarch stopped walking and turned toward me. She tilted her head up to mine and said in her deep, smoky voice, “I don’t care how sad you are. Don’t put the moves on me, Higgs.”
“I … I wasn’t going to put the moves on you,” I sputtered.
“Liar,” she said as she continued tromping through the woods. “Get this into that over-analytical brain of yours — hanky-panky is off-limits.”
“Hanky-panky?” I asked. “Who says ‘hanky-panky’?”
“I say it,” she replied.
“What’s wrong with hanky-panky?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, when it’s with the right person,” Monarch said. “But you, Higgs Boson Bing, are not the right person.”
It felt like she had kicked me in the gut. But I wasn’t about to let her know that. Instead, I asked, “Who is the right person?”
Without breaking her step, Monarch answered, “I’ll know when I find him.”
I shook off her cavalier dismissal of me. Right then, I needed someone to talk to more than someone to hanky-panky with. “There’s more shit going down in my life right now. Harvard is reevaluating my application and may expel me before I start.”
When Monarch looked momentarily surprised, I felt a perverse sense of pride that I was able to catch her off guard.
“Hey Higgs,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
It sounded like she meant it.
“For which one?” I asked. “My parents splitting or my Harvard career being derailed?”
“Which one hurts most?”
I shrugged. “Both are no big deal.”
“Man, you’re a shitty liar,” she said, taking my hand and leading me up the hill. “Come on, let’s go.”
Our fingers laced up perfectly.
I wasn’t sure where Monarch was leading me, and I didn’t care. We kept climbing and my phone buzzed repeatedly, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to let go of her hand. When we finally stopped, Monarch released me and I felt unmoored. Then I looked around. It was amazing. I could see the high school and downtown. I could see my house — it looked so small. I wished I could see inside. I wondered if my father was still there. I wondered if he and my mother were fighting. I wondered why he was leaving.
“If you think things look great from here,” Monarch said, “you ought to see the view from up there.” She motioned to the top of the water tower. A rusted chain-link fence topped with barbed wire encircled it. Someone had cut a hole in the fence.
I had to laugh. There was no way in hell that I’d ever go up there. She knew that.
“Monarch,” I ventured. “You know all about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“Maybe there’s a reason for that,” she said, lowering her voice. “Secrets one would rather not have revealed.”
I looked at where she pricked my finger. There was no scar, like nothing had ever happened. I almost wished there was something there.
“I won’t spill your secrets,” I said.
“Tell you what, Higgs, since you’re graduating soon, I’m going to give you a present.” Monarch leaned in toward me. Our faces were so close that I could almost count her eyelashes. I was ready to kiss her, but she pulled back and said, “You may ask me one question. We’ll call it a bonus question, because no matter what, I’ll have to answer it.”
“That’s the present?”
“Is that your bonus question?”
I shook my head. “Do I have to ask it right now?”
“Is that your bonus question?”
She wasn’t going to make it easy. “Okay,” I said. “When I ask it, I’ll say, ‘Monarch, this is my bonus question.’ ”
A slow grin crossed her face. “Now you’ve got it, Higgs Boson Bing. You’re learning.”
In debate, we asked things rapid-fire, and answered the same. Half the time we were just trying to confuse our opponents. The other half of the time we didn’t really want to hear the answers to our questions, we were just throwing the other team off base. This was different. I wasn’t about to waste my bonus question.
* * *
The hike down the hill wasn’t nearly as fun as it was going up. We weren’t holding hands this time, and it was getting dark and hard to see.
“Hungry?” Monarch asked as we crossed the gravel pit and headed out of Brookhaven.
“A little,” I said.
“Then let’s grab dinner. My treat.”
I hesitated. I had never thought about it before, but Monarch probably didn’t have much money, if any.
“I can’t let you do that,” I insisted. “Let me buy you dinner.”
“That’s sweet, Higgs. But don’t worry, it’s not going to cost anything. You’ve got a car, right?”
Hesitantly, I nodded. “I’m parked at the iffy Mart.”
“Well then, let’s go!” she shouted, and then let out a whoop.
* * *
“That’s your car?”
I had never been more embarrassed to drive a bright red Volvo station wagon than at that moment. The silver BMW with the lawyer bumper sticker was back, and I wished that was my car instead.
“Can I drive?” Monarch asked.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea….”
“Oh, please, Higgs. I’m a safe driver, I promise.” She was only inches away from me. “Please,” she said softly, leaning into me.
I wondered if she could hear my heart racing?
“Say yes, Higgs,” Monarch whispered again, playing with my collar and pulling me close.
I could feel her breath. Did she mean for her lips to touch my ear?
“Okay,” I said weakly. “But you have to drive safe, promise me.”
Monarch broke into a huge grin. “I promise!”
Even though I knew better, I handed her the keys. Delighted, Monarch slipped into the driver’s seat and took her time adjusting it. She checked
her teeth in the mirror, then ran her hands around the steering wheel. Gingerly, Monarch put Rolvo in reverse and slowly backed out, before hitting the gas.
“Shit! Slow down, stop it!!!” I screamed.
“Viva la Grand Prix!” Monarch shouted as I gripped the dashboard.
“SLOW DOWN!!!” I cried. “NOW, GODDAMN IT!!! Are you trying to get us killed?”
By the time we got to the highway, I was exhausted from screaming. Monarch finally slowed and began driving like a normal person. I took deep cleansing breaths in an attempt to regain my composure.
“Christ, Higgs,” she said. “Don’t crap in your pants, what’s the big deal?”
Jeffrey.
“Forget it,” I said. “Just, just drive carefully, okay? I can’t … I can’t talk about it.”
I rolled down the window to get fresh air.
“Sure, okay,” Monarch said, shaking her head. “Sorry.”
She kept one hand on the wheel as she rooted around her purse with the other. I watched as she stuck a cigarette in her mouth.
“Where are we going?” I asked. I was back to breathing normal.
“To eat,” Monarch said. “There’s a place I’ve always wanted to try.” She used the blinker, even as she wove in and out of traffic.
A guy in a black SUV pulled up next to us at the red light. He was wearing sunglasses even though it was dark, but took them off to get a better look at Monarch. When he winked at her, she smiled sweetly before giving him the finger.
“BITCH!” he yelled.
“You’re the bitch,” Monarch shouted gleefully as the light turned green and she sped away.
I had no idea that Rolvo could go that fast. As soon as it was clear that we had eluded Mr. Sunglasses, I said, “You can slow down now. Please. Please slow down.”
Monarch pulled into a strip mall parking lot. Sorrento’s Italian restaurant stood next door to a Value Save grocery store.
“Have you ever been here before?” she asked.
