Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret (9 page)

That week my mother went crazy cleaning the house, while I waited for something to happen. I thought it would be a telegram saying they weren't able to come after all. I was sure God only wanted to punish me for a little while. Not for the whole spring vacation.

"Cheer up, Margaret," my mother said over dinner. "Things are never as bad as they seem."

"How can you be glad they're coming?" I asked. "After all those stories you've told me about them- how?"

"I want to show them how well I've managed for fourteen years without their help. And I want them to see my wonderful family."

My father said, "You can't expect Margaret to be overjoyed when her plans have been changed at the last minute."

"Look, Herb," my mother said. "I haven't forgiven my parents. You know that. I never will. But they're coming. I can't say no. Try to understand… both of you… please."

My mother hadn't ever asked me to do that before. Usually it was me asking her to try to understand.

My father kissed her on the cheek as she cleared away the dishes. He promised to make the best of it. I promised too. My mother kissed us both and said she had the best family in the world.

On April fifth my mother and I drove to Newark Airport to meet them. My father didn't come. He thought it would be better if he stayed at home and greeted them there.

All the way to the airport my mother briefed me. "Margaret, I'm not trying to make excuses for my mother and father. But I want you to know that your grandparents have their beliefs too. And fourteen years ago… well… they did what they thought was right. Even though we know it was cruel. Their beliefs were that important to them. Am I making any sense to you?"

"Some," I said.

When they announced the arrival of flight #894 from Toledo I followed my mother to the gate. I knew it was them right away. I knew it by the way they walked down the airplane stairs, clutching each other. And when they got closer I knew it by my grandmother's shoes-black with laces and fat heels-old lady shoes. My grandfather had white hair around the edges and none on top. He was shorter and fatter than my grandmother.

They looked around a bit before my mother called out, "Here we are-over here."

They walked toward us, growing more excited as they recognized my mother. She gave each of them a short hug. I just stood there feeling dumb until my grandmother said, "And this must be Margaret Ann." When she said it I noticed the cross around her neck. It was the biggest one I ever saw. And it sparkled!

I didn't want them to touch me. And maybe they could tell, because when my grandmother bent over, as if to kiss me, I stiffened. I didn't mean to. It just happened.

I think my mother knew how I felt because she told them we'd better see about the luggage.

When we got home my father met us at our front door and carried in their suitcases. They had two of them. Both brown and both new.

"Hello, Herb," my grandmother said.

"Hello, Mrs. Hutchins," my father answered.

I thought how funny it was for my father to call her "Mrs."

My grandfather shook hands with my father. "You're looking well, Herb," he said.

My father pressed his lips together but finally managed to say, "Thank you."

I thought, this is harder on my father than it is on me!

My mother and I showed my grandparents to their room. Then my mother went down to see about dinner. I said, "If there's anything you need, just ask me.

"Thank you, Margaret Ann," my grandmother said. She had a funny way of scrunching up her mouth.

"You don't have to call me Margaret Ann," I said. "Nobody does. Just Margaret is fine."

My mother really made a fancy dinner. The kind she has when she's entertaining friends and I'm sent to bed early. We had flowers on the table and a hired lady to wash the dishes.

My mother changed into a new dress and her hair looked nice too. She didn't look like her parents at all. My grandmother changed her dress too, but she still had the cross around her neck.

At dinner we all tried hard to have a conversation. My mother and my grandmother talked about old friends from Ohio and who was doing what these days. My grandfather said mostly, "Please pass the butter… please pass the salt."

Naturally I used my best possible manners. In the middle of the roast beef course my grandfather knocked over his water glass and my grandmother gave him a sharp look, but my mother said water couldn't possible hurt anything. The lady from the kitchen wiped it up.

During dessert my mother explained to my grandparents that she had just ordered all new living room furniture and she was sorry they wouldn't be able to see it. I knew she hadn't ordered anything yet, but I didn't tell.

After dinner we sat around in the den and my grandfather asked my father such questions as:

Grandfather: "Are you still in the insurance business?"

Father: "Yes."

Grandfather: "Do you invest in the stock market?"

Father: "Occasionally."

Grandfather: "This is a pretty nice house."

Father: "Thank you. We think so too."

While my grandmother talked to my mother about:

Grandmother: "We were in California over Thanksgiving."

Mother: "Oh?"

Grandmother: "Yes, your brother has a wonderful wife."

Mother: "I'm glad."

Grandmother: "If only they were blessed with a child. You know, they're thinking of adopting."

Mother: "I hope they do. Everyone should have a child to love."

Grandmother: "Yes, I know… I've always wanted dozens of grandchildren, but Margaret's all I've got."

Then my mother excused herself to pay the lady in the kitchen, who signaled that her taxi was waiting out front. So my grandmother turned to me.

"Do you like school?" she asked.

"Most of the time," I said.

"Do you get good marks?"

"Pretty good," I said.

"How do you do in Sunday school?"

My mother came back into the den then and sat down next to me.

"I don't go to Sunday school," I said.

"You don't?"

"No."

"Father… (That's what Grandmother called Grandfather. He called her "Mother.")

"What is it, Mother?" Grandfather said.

"Margaret doesn't go to Sunday school." Grandmother shook her head and played with her cross.

"Look," my mother said, trying a smile. "You know we don't practice any religion."

Here it comes, I thought. I wanted to leave the room then but I felt like I was glued to my seat.

"We hoped by now you'd changed your minds about religion," Grandfather said.

"Especially for Margaret's sake," Grandmother added. "A person's got to have religion."

"Let's not get into a philosophical discussion," my father said, annoyed. He sent my mother a warning look across the room.

Grandfather laughed. "I'm not being a philosopher, Herb."

"Look," my mother explained, "we're letting Margaret choose her own religion when she's grown."

"If she wants to!" my father said, defiantly.

"Nonsense!" Grandmother said. "A person doesn't choose religion."

"A person's born to it!" Grandfather boomed.

Grandmother smiled at last and gave a small laugh. "So Margaret is Christian!" she announced, like we all should have known.

"Please… " my mother said. "Margaret could just as easily be Jewish. Don't you see-if you keep this up you're going to spoil everything."

"I don't mean to upset you, dear," Grandmother told my mother. "But a child is always the religion of the mother. And you, Barbara, were born Christian. You were baptized. It's that simple."

"Margaret is nothing!" my father stormed. "And I'll thank you for ending this discussion right now."

I didn't want to listen anymore. How could they talk that way in front of me! Didn't they know I was a real person-with feelings of my own!

"Margaret," Grandmother said, touching my sleeve. "It's not too late for you, dear. You're still God's child. Maybe while I'm visiting I could take you to church and talk to the minister. He might be able to straighten things out."

"Stop it!" I hollered, jumping up. "All of you! Just stop it! I can't stand another minute of listening to you. Who needs religion? Who! Not me… I don't need it. I don't even need God!" I ran out of the den and up to my room.

I heard my mother say, "Why did you have to start? Now you've ruined everything!"

I was never going to talk to God again. What did he want from me anyway? I was through with him and his religions! And I was never going to set foot in the Y or the Jewish Community Center-
never.

The next morning I stayed in my room. I wouldn't even go down for breakfast. I caught myself starting to say,
Are you there God,
but then I remembered that I wasn't talking to him anymore. I wondered if he would strike me down. Well, if he wanted to, that was his business!

By afternoon I couldn't stand being in the house, so I asked my mother to drive me downtown to meet Janie for a movie. My mother agreed that I needed to get away for a few hours. Janie and I met at the drugstore on the corner, across the street from the movie theater. We were twenty minutes early so we went into the drugstore to look around. Mostly we liked to inspect the sanitary napkin display.

After a few minutes of looking, I whispered to Janie, "Let's buy a box." It was something I'd thought about for a while, but wasn't ever brave enough to do. Today I was feeling brave. I thought, so what if God's mad at me. Who cares? I even tested him by crossing the street in the middle
and
against the light. Nothing happened.

"Buy it for what?" Janie asked.

"Just in case," I told her.

"You mean to keep at home?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"I don't know. My mother might not like it," Janie said.

"So don't tell her."

"But what if she sees it?"

"It'll be in a bag. You can say it's school supplies," I said. "Do you have enough money?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Now, what kind should we buy?" I asked.

"How about
Teenage Softies?"
Janie said. "That's the kind Gretchen uses."

"Okay." I took a box of
Teenage Softies
off the shelf. "Well, go ahead," I said to Janie. "Take yours."

"Okay, okay." Janie took a box too.

"We need a belt to go with it," I said, getting braver by the minute.

"You're right. Which kind?" Janie asked.

"I like that one. It's pink," I told her, pointing to a small box with a pretty girl's picture on it.

"Okay, I'll take that one too," Janie said, reaching.

We walked to the check-out counter with our stuff and walked away just as fast when we saw that there was a boy behind the cash register.

"I can't go through with it," Janie whispered. She put her boxes back on the shelf. "I'm scared."

"Don't be a dope. What's to be… " I was interrupted by a saleslady in a blue doctor's coat.

"Can I help you, girls?" she asked.

Janie shook her head but I said, "We'd like these please." I took Janie's boxes back off the shelf and showed the saleslady what we'd selected.

"Fine, girls. Take them up to the cash register and Max will wrap them for you."

Janie didn't move. She looked like she was cemented to the floor. She had this dumb expression on her face-between crying and smiling. So I grabbed her boxes and headed for Max and the cash register. I plopped everything down in front of him and just stood there not looking at his face and not saying anything either. He added it all up and I motioned to Janie to give me her money. Then I said, "Two bags, please." Max took my money, gave me some change, which I didn't bother to count, and presented me with two brown bags. That was all there was to it! You'd think he sold that kind of stuff every day of the week.

When I got home from the movies my mother asked, "What's that package?"

I said, "School supplies."

I went to my room with my purchases. I sat down on my bed staring at the box of
Teenage Softies.
I hoped God was watching. Let him see I could get along fine without him! I opened the box and took out one pad. I held it for a long time.

Then I took the pink belt out of its box and held that too. Finally I got up and went to my closet. It was dark in there. Especially with the door closed. I wished I had a huge walk-in closet with a light and a lock. But I managed anyway. I got the pink belt around me and attached the pad to it. I wanted to find out how it would feel. Now I knew. I liked it. I thought about sleeping in my belt and pad that night, but decided against it. If there was a fire my secret might be discovered. So I took off the belt and pad, put them back in their boxes and hid them in my bottom desk drawer. My mother never checks there because the mess makes her positively sick!

The next morning my grandparents announced they were moving on to New York.

"You told me a week!" my mother said. "You said you were coming for a week!"

"We did say that," my grandfather told her. "But we've decided to spend the rest of the week in New York, at a hotel."

"I see," my mother said.

My father hid behind his newspaper but I saw the big smile. All I could think of was that they ruined my trip to Florida and now they weren't even staying. It wasn't fair! It was really a cheat!

When my mother got back from driving them to the bus my father said, "How much do you want to bet it was a trip to New York all the time. They just stopped in to see you because it was convenient."

"I don't believe that!" my mother said.

"Well, I believe it," my father said.

"They ruined my vacation," I said.

Nobody answered me.

That night the doorbell rang at eight. We were in the den. I said I'd see who was there. I opened the front door.

"Grandma!" I screamed. I threw my arms around her. "What are you doing home?"

"If Mohammed doesn't come to the mountain-the mountain comes to Mohammed."

I laughed, knowing that I was Mohammed and that Grandma was the mountain. There was a man standing next to Grandma. Grandma turned to him. "Morris," she said. "This is my Margaret."

Then Grandma closed the front door and told me, "Margaret darling, this is Mr. Morris Binamin."

"Rhymes with cinnamon," he said to me.

I smiled.

Grandma looked marvelous-very tan and pale blonde. Mr. Binamin had a lot of silver hair, a moustache to match, and black-rimmed eyeglasses. He was tan too. He held Grandma's arm.

"Where are they?" Grandma asked.

"Mom and Dad are in the den," I said.

"With your other grandparents?"

"No… they're gone."

"Gone!" Grandma cried. "But I thought they were staying all week."

"We thought so too," I said.

"But Morris and I came especially to see them."

"You did!" I said. "How come?"

Grandma and Mr. Binamin gave each other a secret look. "Well… we thought you might need our support."

"Oh Grandma! I can manage just fine by myself."

"I know you can. You're my Margaret, aren't you? Tell me-did they try anything?"

"Like what?" I asked.

"You know," Grandma said. "Church business."

"Well… kind of," I admitted.

"I knew it!" Grandma cried. "Didn't I tell you?" she asked Mr. Binamin.

Mr. Binamin shook his head. "You had them pegged right all the time, Sylvia," he said.

"Just remember, Margaret… no matter what they said… you're a Jewish girl."

"No I'm not!" I argued. "I'm nothing, and you know it! I don't even believe in God!"

"Margaret!" Grandma said, "Don't ever talk like that about God."

"Why not?" I asked. "It's true!" I wanted to ask God did he hear that! But I wasn't speaking to him and I guess he knew it!

By that time my mother and father were in the living room and Grandma was making the introductions.

My parents gave Mr. Binamin the once-over and he was pretty busy sizing them up too.

Then my mother made coffee and served warm Danish. She offered me some milk and ginger snaps but I wasn't hungry. I wanted to get out of there so I yawned very loud without covering my mouth.

"Margaret dear, if you're so tired, why don't you go up to bed," Grandma said.

"I think I will. Goodnight, everybody."

Sometimes Grandma is almost as bad as everybody else. As long as she loves me and I love her, what difference does religion make?