Getting Somewhere (20 page)

Her throat is completely parched, and she lifts onto her elbows to search out the glass of water she's pretty sure Donna left by her bed. Though she can't actually see anything floating in it, it looks kind of cloudy, dusty or something. She could just refill it in the bathroom, but she's kind of curious to test her strength, wondering how sick she really is, if it's just the combination of the cutting and the amps Lauren gave her or if she really has some flu bug that's wearing her out like this.

Sarah makes the trip to the kitchen on shaky legs, gets her drink and is sitting down at the kitchen table to rest before attempting the climb back up the stairs, when she hears the front door open and shut, but quietly, as if someone is trying not to be heard. She pushes herself up and steps over to the kitchen doorway and there is Lauren, looking out the front screen and then slinking her way over to the office. She has something in her hand that Sarah can't see, but when she bends to the knob, Sarah calls out, “Lauren? What are you doing?”

Lauren jumps a little but quickly gets her composure. “I had to go to the bathroom.”

“That's not the bathroom.”

Lauren rolls her eyes and then glances through the front screen again as she moves toward Sarah. “Hey, I need your help.”

“Help with what.”

“Just come over here and stand by the front door, tell me if you see anyone coming this way.”

“Where is everybody?”

“Grace and Jenna went to the market, and the others are in the garden.”

“Jenna went to the market with Grace?”

“For godsakes, Sarah, who cares? Just watch out for me for a minute, okay? I need to make a phone call, and I don't want them to know.”

Sarah is stalling, wishes she had never come down the stairs. “Won't they see it on their phone bill?”

“I have a calling card, you idiot. Just help me, will you? All you have to do is watch out there. I can handle the rest.”

Sarah doesn't want any part of this. “Why would I help you and who are you calling?”

“I'm calling Jason, not that it's any of your business, and you're helping me because you owe me one and don't want me to get you in trouble, which I would be more than capable of doing, and most of all because I have something you want.”

Sarah wants to argue but can't think of a decent response, only has to take one hesitant step forward before Lauren turns back to the office door, does something to the knob, and the lock snaps open. She turns to give Sarah a threatening look and then disappears behind the door, leaving it open enough that she'll be able to hear if Sarah gives a warning. Sarah wanders closer to the front door and looks out but can't see anybody. Then she moves over to the office door and stands outside, can just make out Lauren's voice.

“Hey, babe, it's me. . . . I know. I just needed to get in touch with you so I picked the lock on the office. . . . Yeah. . . . Right, but, Jason? Listen. I don't have much time so you've got to listen. I got to get out of here. . . . I know, but I just can't take it anymore. They make us work like mules but . . . whatever. Jason, listen . . . Will you listen? I need you to go over to my parents'. . . . No, really, you have to. Jason, you're not going to believe it but these women are all lesbos. . . . Yes . . . No, I'm totally serious, and there's one that will not leave me alone. She's after me all the time, touching me and trying to get me alone. It is, like, totally disgusting. It's sexual harassment, Jason. . . . I did. . . . No, I did. I told them. I sent them a whole packet of stuff, letters and pictures and stuff I stole from the bedroom, they should get it any day now. . . . No, it went out today. . . . Mail, of course, you ding-dong. What else was I going to do, send it on my cell phone? No, but listen, when you go there, you tell them again that I'm being sexually harassed, that I was so desperate that I called you, I know they'll do something. . . . Well, yeah . . . Yeah, I know. I did try to tell her, but she wouldn't listen at all. She hates me. . . . I don't know. But Mom and Dad need to go over her head anyway, get the attorney involved. He can go straight to the judge. . . . What difference does it make? Jason, all I'm asking you to do is go to my parents and tell them what I'm telling you. . . . No, of course not.
I'll
testify if I have to. Nobody is going to ask a single other thing of you. Listen, you owe me this much. I saved your ass, big time, and you know it. . . . Are you saying you won't do this one little thing for me? . . . No, just tell them sexual harassment. They will already have all the stuff I sent them if you go, like, Wednesday. . . . Okay, then just meet with my dad . . . Yeah. Call him and meet him somewhere. He'll think you're a hero. . . . No, I'm sure. . . . Okay, listen, Jason, I have to go. . . . No, I really have to go. Just do it, okay. . . . Okay? . . . Yeah, me too. Okay. And thanks. . . . right. Okay, bye.”

When Sarah hears the conversation end, she takes a couple of steps away from the office toward the front door. Lauren emerges from the office with a triumphant smile on her face.

“None of that was true.”

Sarah is staring hard at Lauren as she checks the lock on the door. “Just don't worry about it.”

“But why did you say all that stuff? It was all a big lie.”

“No, it wasn't. They
are
all lesbians. Someone needs to tell the judge. They have no right to run a program like this for girls.”

“You are not being sexually harassed.”

“Who cares? I could be. And how do you know what's going on with Grace and Jenna right now? I'm doing it for all of us. It's my good deed.” And Lauren laughs with malevolent glee and slips out the door.

C
ASSIE HAS BEEN
so engaged with the process of making jam from the raspberries she and Donna picked this morning that she hasn't even thought about the time. When Ellie comes into the kitchen asking if anybody wants to go swimming, Cassie glances up at the clock, sees that it's nearly three. That's an hour past the time they usually meet for the group session. And more than that since Grace and Jenna should have been back from the market.

As if divining Cassie's thoughts, Donna asks, “Is Grace here? Are they back?”

Ellie shakes her head, quickly moves to examine the jars of jam cooling on the counter. “These look great, you guys. Have you been helping, too, Sarah?”

Sarah shrugs from her seat at the kitchen table. “Not very much. I just couldn't stand being up there by myself anymore.”

Ellie pats her shoulder. “Feel well enough to walk back to the river with us?”

Sarah glances at Cassie, nods. “Sure. I can walk back there.”

“Well, I'm in no hurry. Whenever you guys are ready. Um, and Cassie? Would you mind coming by my room for a minute when you're done here?”

Cassie shakes her head, switches it to a nod. “No, I don't mind. I think . . . Donna? Are we done?”

Donna waves her off. “Sure. Go ahead. We'll meet you on the porch.”

Cassie follows Ellie to her room, nervous about what Ellie could possibly want with her. She's never been all the way into this room, feels a little uncomfortable entering Ellie's private space. Cassie moves one step forward, glances around with just her eyes, holding her head down.

“Come on in,” Ellie says. “I have something for you. I hope you won't be embarrassed but I couldn't help but notice that all your clothes are just enormous on you now. I had to go to Goodwill anyway, so none of these clothes are new, but just pick out whatever you like and the rest I can take back, though you're welcome to have them all. Just don't feel that you have to choose anything you don't like.”

Ellie has motioned toward the bed so Cassie moves slowly over to it and lightly places her fingers on the top of the short stack of clothing. Ellie has moved up behind her and says, “Go ahead. Take a look and see what you think.”

Cassie picks up the first top and unfolds it. Holding it by the shoulders, she lays it against her chest and smooths it over her stomach. It has no sleeves, just wide straps for the shoulders, and the color makes Cassie think of the back feathers of a male bluebird she sees almost every day.

There are four tops, all of them sleeveless and basic: two blue ones, one light and one dark; a greenish one with thin white and yellow stripes; and another solid yellow. Cassie would like to sit down on the bed and hold them in her lap, feel the fabric against the tender skin of her wrists. The shorts are are all made of blue jean material, and Cassie thinks they look way too small, wonders if it will hurt Ellie's feelings if they don't fit. Somehow, she has become instantly more attached to the shirts though and is even more worried that they won't fit over her breasts, which are still fairly large even after all the extra weight of them has been lost. Finally, Cassie turns to the swimsuit, almost afraid to touch it. It is black, lightly ribbed with a slanted band of glossy pink running from under one arm to the opposite hip. She picks it up, feels that the fabric is slippery, satiny, has never seen or felt such a thing, and cannot imagine herself wearing it, puts it back down.

“Do you want to try anything on? Maybe the swimsuit first?”

Cassie is swallowing hard, not moving, and Ellie is still standing beside her, waiting. Finally, Ellie reaches across in front of Cassie and lifts the suit into her hands, gently guides her out of the room to the bathroom in the hall. Before Cassie shuts the door, she looks behind her and sees that Ellie is waiting there, has given her an encouraging smile and nod.

In the tiny room, Cassie slowly removes her clothes, folds them carefully and lays them on the toilet seat. She stands for some time in just her bra and underwear, wondering if she should take them off, decides that she should. She steps into the swimming suit and pulls it up, threads her arms through the straps, releases her hair from the elastic strap across the back. She hasn't once looked in the small mirror over the sink, has kept her back to it, but now takes a deep breath and turns around. She can really only see herself from the waist up and that is when she is leaning over the sink and looking down. She can hardly feel the suit on her body, it is so light, needs to confirm that she is wearing anything at all before she opens the door. Her heart stutters with a sudden panic that Ellie will be gone when she steps out, that she will not only be wearing something that doesn't yet belong to her, but that she will find herself totally alone in it.

But when she opens the door, Ellie is waiting right there. Cassie doesn't know what the look on Ellie's face means, the wide eyes that are glistening just a bit, hardly hears Ellie when she says, “Looks like it fits you,” with an enthusiasm that doesn't match her expression. Ellie motions to Cassie to follow her, leads her into the bedroom and shuts the door so Cassie can see herself in the full-length mirror mounted on the back. This is not what she saw in the bathroom mirror where, standing on her tiptoes with her head almost against the glass, she had seen her belly and hips widening below her, spreading to fill the width of the mirror. Now, there is an almost straight line from her shoulder to her hips, and her legs emerge from the black fabric to continue the sense of length. Cassie turns a bit and sees the end of her hair dangling just below her waist, the curve of her breasts, the gentle swell of her buttocks, the perfect flatness of her belly, and, again, the long, long legs. Her eyes grow wide, and her hands leap to her open mouth, her elbows closing around her chest and then slowly opening, her arms dropping to her sides.

“I can't believe that's me.”

Cassie can see Ellie's reflection in the mirror, too, standing behind her, and her face looks different now, her expression pleased and satisfied. Ellie says, “You had no idea how beautiful you are, did you?”

Cassie can't look at herself anymore, turns to Ellie and hesitates, then Ellie has her arms around her, hugging her. Cassie feels the warmth of Ellie's body, catches a faint whiff of her shampoo, and yet she feels far away, watching from a distance, sees the whole room, the clothes in a colorful spray on the bed, the two women, their sharp elbows bent in matching angles at their sides. Cassie doesn't know if it's the swimming suit itself or something else, but she is suddenly aware of her body in a way she has never before allowed. Standing here in Ellie's nurturing clutch, Cassie has the feeling that something essential has just been recovered.