Book Read Free

A Begonia for Miss Applebaum

Page 15

by Paul Zindel


  wecouldanswerher,butIfoundmyselfsaying,“Youdon’thavetobeafraid,

  MissApplebaum.”

  “No,”Zeldaechoed.

  “You’vebeenawonderfulperson,”Isaid.

  “You’vebeenkindtoeveryone,”Zeldasaid.

  WenoweachheldoneofMissApplebaum’ssmallhands.

  “You’velivedbravely.”

  “You’vehelpedsomany.”

  “You’vebeenagreathumanbeing....”

  Thenwewentsilent.

  We looked into her eyes. Miss Applebaum’s lips no longer trembled. She

  spokeforthelasttime.

  “Burymeinthepark,”shesaid.

  Weheardthewords,butcouldn’tdaretobelievethem.Weleanedcloser.

  “Burymeinthepark,”sherepeated,andslowlyclosedhereyes.

  Shewasdead.

  MissApplebaumwasdead.

  17

  HenryandIdideverythingwecould.Wetriedcallingforhelp.Wecalled

  Dr.Obitcheck.Hewasangryaboutthecall,toldustocallwhateverfancy

  doctorwehaddraggedherto.Dr.HarrietSilveronlyhadanansweringservice.

  We did reach Dr. Manley on the ninth floor of Parkview Hospital. He told us howtotestforMissApplebaum’spulse.Therewasnone.Hetoldustoholda

  mirror to her mouth and look for water vapor. There was none. He told us we shouldn’thavetakenherhome.Heremindedushehadwarnedusthatshedidn’t

  havelongtolive.WecalledBerniceandgotarecordingsaying,“Wecan’tcome

  to the phone just now, but please leave a message.” We didn’t. We ended up doingnothing.Therewasnothingwecoulddotomakeusfeellessguilty.

  Almostnothing.

  WesatnexttoMissApplebaumuntillatethatnight.Henrydidn’thavetocall

  hisparents,butIcalledmymotherandtoldherHenryandIweregoingtoalate

  movieandthatsheshouldn’tworryaboutme.

  “Zeldaaaaaaaa!”shesaid.

  “Really,Mom,”Isaid.

  IttookHenryandmealongtimetothinkabouteverythingMissApplebaum

  hadsaid.Anddone.Everythingthatwecouldremember.Themorewethought,

  the more amazed we were by her. Even in death, she was shocking. Original.

  Shehadplannedsomuch.Shehadchosensowell.

  Miss Applebaum, Henry, and Zelda. We would be bound even closer now.

  Henry with his hawk eyes and fear of falling air conditioners. Zelda with her longhairandterroroftheendofliving.

  WewaiteduntiltheChannel4eleven-o’clocknewswasover.Mostofthepet

  walkersinthebuildinghadfinishedtheireveningstrollsbythen.Theelevatorin thehallwaywassilent.Itwouldbesafestnow.WeputtheraccooncoatonMiss

  Applebaum, and Henry lifted her gently into the wheelchair. We carefully picked everything we felt she would want to have with her. Her homburg hat.

  Thetweedsuit.Herschoolbriefcase.ThefadedphotographofMissApplebaum

  and her sailor. A flower blossom. A leaf. Henry gave her a button from his

  sleeve.Igaveherasmalllockofmyhair.Wewantedtodosomethingstheway theancientEgyptiansdid.Bymidnight,ifanyonehadcometoawindowinthe

  Dakota, all they would have seen was a boy and girl pushing an old lady in a wheelchairintotheshadowsofthepark.

  WepushedMissApplebaumthroughStrawberryFields,andbytheAngelof

  theWaters.Westayedasclosetothecirclesoflightfromthelamppostsaswe

  dared but were always ready to disappear if we saw a patrol car. Miss Applebaum had spoken to us of many things. Of puzzles and mazes. Of the secretoftheninedotsthatshehadtolduswasthesecretoflifeitself.“Thetrue answersarealwaysbeyondourexpectations,”werememberedMissApplebaum

  tellingusfromtheverybeginning.Wepassedthelifelessformofthecarousel

  andtookMissApplebaumpastShakespeareandColumbusandMadameCurie.

  Allthestatuesweredarksilhouettesagainstahalf-moonsky,butweknewMiss

  Applebaumlovedthem.Aheadontheknollwouldbeherbench.“Thisbench!”

  shehadcried.“Thisspot!Thisisthemostwondrousplaceintheworld!From

  here, you can see everything beautiful! This is where all civilization comes together and means something! Where it means something important!

  Profound!” we could hear her proclaiming. “The best of all the spirit of the worldthathaseverexistedtriumphshereandliveson!”shehadsung.

  Here we stopped at the edge of the trench. Together we lifted Miss

  Applebaum’sbodyoutofthewheelchairandlaidhergentlyintowhatwouldbe

  hergrave.

  Gently.

  We covered her with enough earth so when the men would come with their machinestheywouldn’tseeher.Theywouldsimplyfinishtheirjoboffillingthe

  long,longtrench.

  Werolledtheemptywheelchairoutofthepark.Thesnowwouldfall.Winter

  would come and go. And in the spring, the park would come alive again. The bulldozersandthetrenchwouldbegone.Thebenchwouldsitonasoftgrassy

  hilloncemore.Childrenwouldcomebacktoplayandtherewouldbethesounds

  ofpeopleandmusic.Onsuchabeautifulday,wewouldreturnagainandbringa

  begoniaforMissApplebaum.

  *****

  Don’tmissasneakpeakatPaulZindel’snextbook,

  THEUNDERTAKER’SGONEBANANAS

  Chapter1

  BobbyPerkinsknewtheminutehesawMr.Hulkatherewassomethingalittle

  wacky about the guy. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was because so muchofMr.Hulka’sappearancewasattractiveexceptofcourseforthepartof

  his face which seemed to be made of Silly Putty. He looked a little like a characteractor,onlyaboutthirty,butthekindthatoneknewwasnevergoingto

  makeitpastdoingwalk-onsonsomeawfultelevisionshow.ThatfirstdayMr.

  Hulkawaswearinganimpressivedarksuitandhisshirtwasstarkwhitewiththe

  collarjustperfectandatiehangingdownlikeastiffknifepointingtowardhis

  belt and he had a handkerchief popping out of his jacket pocket. The

  handkerchiefcurvedatalltherightangleslikewell-fashionedsecrets.Actually

  Bobby decided Mr. Hulka came off as perfect casting for his family’s first neighboronthetwenty-fourthfloorofthefancyCenturyTowerApartments.Of

  coursenotalltheapartmentswerefancy;therewereafewstudioapartmentsbut

  ingeneraltheplacewassoexpensivemostofthefloorsweren’tevenrentedyet

  andithadbeenopenoverayear.Bobbythoughtmaybemostpeopledidn’twant

  tomoveinbecausethebuildingwaserectedsoclosetotheedgeofacliffinFort Lee,NewJersey,thatitlookedlikeitwasgoingtofallrightoverandtakethe

  GeorgeWashingtonBridgewithit.Onedaytherewouldbethisgreatbigsplash

  and that would be the end of the Century Tower Apartments and maybe the WorldTradeCenteraswell.

  Mr.Hulkawasbeingmovedinto24-G.Bobbyandhismotherandfatherlived

  right next door in 24-H and none of the other eight apartments on the twenty-fourth floor had been rented yet. In fact nobody had rented anything on the twenty-third floor or the twenty-second. There was some man with a collie livingonthetwenty-firstandthentherewereafewofthepenthouseswayupon

  the th
irtieth floor that were rented. Aside from that most of the people lived belowthetwentiethfloor.Therehadbeensomanyfightswiththelandlordabout

  garbagepickupsandrentrip-offsanddealsunderthetablethatthebuildinghad

  gotten a terrible reputation and was in the middle of a big court battle because the owner was some money-grabbing villain who didn’t care about giving

  peopletheservicestheywerepromised.Bobby’smotherandfatherhadalready

  toldhimthatwhoeverwouldmoveintotheGapartmentwouldhavetobevery

  richbecauseitwasahugelayoutwiththreebedrooms,amaid’sroom,aprivate laundry room, and a forty-three-foot living room with terrific views and a wraparound terrace that offered views of Manhattan, the George Washington Bridge,NyackandifyouleanedfaroveryoucouldevenseetheBlueMountains

  way out in New Jersey. Of course Bobby knew the layout of 24-G very well becausemanyatimejusttogetalittlepeaceandquiethewouldsneakunderthe

  partitionofhisterracewhichwouldbringhimontotheterraceofapartment24-

  G, and then he would just open the terrace doors and roll around, sometimes singingsongssotheywouldechoandvibrateoffthewallsoftheemptyrooms.

  BobbykeptpretendingtotakethingsouttotheincineratortheentiredayMr.

  Hulka and his belongings were being moved in. Bobby thought Mr. Hulka’s movingcrewlookedlikeatrioofpre-humanoidcreatures.Theylookedlikethe

  kind of guys who would come up out of ships’ holds where they would stoke furnaces with coal and sometimes be referred to as hairy apes. Mrs. Perkins couldnotunderstandwhyBobbywantedtokeeprunningoutwithlittlepiecesof

  garbage,andsometimesBobbywouldjuststayintheincineratorroomuntilhe

  couldhearalittleactiongoingoninthehall.Thenhewoulddashoutandsee

  what new objets d’art were being carted into 24-G. He saw some elegantly carvedchairsandcabinetsbeingcarriedin.Alotofthemweremadeofheavy

  wood. Some were gilded as though they had just been yanked over from some Transylvaniacastle.Therewerealotofboxesandtwooftheweirdestelephant-shapedendtableswhichlookedverycheap,asthoughtheyhadbeenmadeina

  substandard Tijuana straw factory. But most of all, there was Mr. Hulka—Mr.

  Hulka who moved swiftly, supervising all the little hairy apes, his voice commandingthem,makingthemmovefaster,carryheavierloads,makingthem

  actuallystaggerfromtheelevatortohisnewlyrentedsanctuaryattheendofthe hall.BobbyheardMr.Hulka’svoice.Itwaslowandsmoothanddeepandyet

  there was never any question that he was pulling the strings. He kept those brutesmovingwithveryprecisewords.Infact,Bobbydecidedifhehadtocast

  this man in some major role, he would probably get the title role in Caligula, that play about the king who used to enjoy boiling people in pots just to hear themscream.

  Bobby began to lose track of how many trips he was making out to the hall but somewhere around his fifth reconnoitering venture, he came face to face with Mr. Hulka for the very first time. They weren’t alone in the hall. There were two moving men who were rolling a long RCA television-stereo console between them. But Mr. Hulka smiled and said hello. The voice that was so

  mellifluoussoundedlike aphonydisc jockey’s.Therewas anotherovertonein Mr.Hulka’svoice.EvenwiththatoneworditwasasifBobbyknewHulkawas

  telling him he was very aware of being observed, spied upon. They had only lookedateachotherforamomentandthenMr.Hulkatookoffwiththeapesand

  the television, disappearing into 24-G, and Bobby lingered in the incinerator room,tearingupanemptyMacy’sboxthathehadpleadedwithhismothertolet

  him throw out. He persisted in tearing the box into pieces, delaying as long as possible, shoving the pieces down the mouth revealed by the little metal incinerator door. The door was hot so Bobby knew the fire was burning far belowandhewasgladitwassuchaverysmalldoorbecauseitremindedhima

  littleoftheoventhatthewitchhadin HanselandGretel whenshetriedtopush thetwokidsintoit.Hedidnotordinarilyhavemacabrethoughtsbuttherewas

  something about the presence of Mr. Hulka. It was as though he had an aura.

  Bobby had read a lot of articles about people giving off auras, these little vibrationsemanatingfromthem.Itwasasthoughhisnewneighbor’sheadhad

  been anointed with a kind of evaporating oil, a slippery coating, which made Hulka’s face shine like a gaudy bargain basement souvenir. He looked almost religious,andyetifhewasasaintheseemedlikeanartificialone,thekindof iconthatwouldwearaheaddressofcheappinwheelsandcrepepaperstreamers

  allflyingoutward. Theeyesarethemirrorofthesoul,Bobbyhadbeentolda thousand times in his English class. And Mr. Hulka’s dark little beady eyes lookedlikehewasfilledwithhate.ItwasthesameoldstorywithMr.Hulka’s

  eyesaswithanyoneelse’s,Bobbydecided.Thoselittleballsofsightbywhich

  youcouldreadaperson’sheart.Yes,Bobbytoldhimself,hewouldhavetoget

  toknowthisone.

  Chapter2

  Bobbycouldn’twaittotellLauriaboutMr.Hulka.LauriGeddesandherfamily

  had rented apartment 3-A ever since the Century Tower had started renting which was exactly thirteen months ago. The Geddes apartment was of course much lower than Bobby’s and overlooked the outdoor swimming pool which

  madeitareallyniftyspottopeople-watchduringthesummer.BobbyandLauri

  hadspentmostoflastAugustsittingonherterracesippinglemonadeandogling

  the motley group of tenants who would make feeble attempts at socializing.

  They would see adults rubbing lotions on their various extremities and posing this way and that and clutching sun reflectors. A lot of desperate secretaries seemed to be around in bikinis throwing whammies to attract whatever

  unmarriedmentherewere.Therewasonewomanwhowassofatthatwhenshe

  got in the pool she displaced about four tons of water. And there were lots of meanlittlekidsrunningaroundshovingeachother—bratstryingtothinkofall

  sorts of new ways to be aquatically cruel to each other. Sometimes Bobby and Lauri would see a kid picking on someone else and Bobby would get up and stickhistwofingersintohismouthandletoutaloudwhistleandsay,“Layoff

  youinfantilenitorI’llcomedownthereandgiveyouaknucklesandwich.”In

  fact, Bobby and Lauri had to appoint themselves as unofficial lifeguards since the Century Tower’s landlord was too cheap to have a real lifeguard. He had spentafortuneputtingupabouteighty-three“swim-at-your-own-risk”signs,but

  thatwasit.Andhereitwas,theendofJune,schoolallfinishedfortheyearand therewasnoquestionthatBobbyandLauriwouldsimplyhavetotakeuptheir

  posts on the terrace of 3-A as self-appointed guardian angels of the subteen underdogswhowouldbefightingfortheirlivesduringthenexttwomonthsin

  theovercrowded,undersizedswimmingpoolthatabsolutelyreekedofchlorine.

  “Angel” was a term that had to be applied somewhat loosely to Bobby now thathewasfifteenyearsoldandonsemiprobation.Bobby’sexteriorwasfairly

  successful. He was very good looking with medium-length black hair and

  English
-white skin and sound teeth and big green shining eyes. Even Bobby knewhewasaclassact.Sohereallydidn’tquiteunderstandwhyhewassortof

  anoutcastatschool.HetriedtoexplainitalltoLaurioneinfamousnightwhen

  theybecamefriends.Andwhathesaidthatnightwas,“Thekidsallreacttome

  in the worst ways. The boys particularly. They think I’m an idiot and a professionaljerkbecauseIhappentoholdpoetry,goodnessandbeautyaboveall

  other qualities. Everybody in Fort Lee High knows my name,” he told Lauri.

  “Theyjustdon’tlikethewayItalkoutinclassandbelievethattheworldisa

  pretty terrific place and that kids don’t all have to be berserk in order to get statuspoints.I’mreallyapacifistbutsomanykidsyellthingsatmeinthehalls thatsometimesIhavetopunchthemalittle.”

  Laurihadhadherowndeepproblemsthefirsttimetheymetsoshehaddone

  only a lot of nodding in agreement, letting Bobby ramble on about every complainthehadintheworld.“TheythinkI’moutspoken,”Bobbysaid.“And

  it’sjustbecauseIdon’thappentoliketositaroundonthesidelinesliketheydo, criticizing everybody else. I don’t believe in tact. Maybe that’s my problem. I mean, when I feel something I just say it. The reason I’m not accepted in our schoolisbecauseIgoagainstthegrain,thegrainofthekids,theteachers.They alldon’tlikeme.You’llfindthatoutthelongeryougothere.Theydon’tletme onthefootballteam.Theydon’tletmedoanything.ButIdon’tcare.AllIdois laugh.Theycan’thurtme.Theydon’thurtmeatall.”

  LaurihadnoddedagainandBobbyknewshedidn’tquitefallforthelastline

  ofhis.

  “LastyearIwaswalkingdownthehall,”Bobbycontinued,“andthisonekid

  walkeduptomeandsaid,‘You’reBobbyPerkins,aren’tyou?’SoIsaid,‘Yes.’

  And he said, ‘Well, I want you to know you’re about the stupidest waste I’ve evermet.’”Bobbysighed.“Youknowincidentslikethathavecausedmetobe

  awareoftheinconsistenciesofstudentbehavior.”

 

‹ Prev