Into the Woods (15 page)

"I didn't use any sneaky technique on anyone."
"No, of course not. He told me what you did. First you beg him to take you home, crying about some sort of an emergency, and then you try this. Did you have to get home that quickly? Well? What was the emergency? Care to explain?" she dared me, standing back with her arms folded under her breasts.
Despite myself, tears came into my eyes. "It's none of your business."
I
said.
"Oh, it's none of my business." she repeated, raising her voice to be sure the students at the farthest tables could hear our exchange. "You go after my boyfriend and it's none of my business?"
"I
didn't go after your boyfriend. He came to speak to me,"
I
cried.
I shouldn't be doing this,
I
kept telling myself.
I shouldn't let her bait me like this. She's getting me to fight her fight on her turf.
It was bad tactics for me. but I couldn't help it.
"Oh. Roger shows a little bit of compassion for a pathetic, whiny, spoiled Sailor Girl, and you make it out to be a love affair. Well, everyone here be warned, especially boys," she said, raising her voice. "You talk to Sailor Girl, and you're in her boat whether you like it or not. Right, Randy?" She turned to him.
"Sh... sh.., shut up, Pheee... Phoebe."
"Ri... right. Ra... Randy. That's why she likes you. She can do all the talking, and you just li... li... listen."
The small crowd convulsed with laughter.
"That's cruel!" I screamed at her, and stood up. "You're a mean, egotistical person. If anyone is spoiled, it's you."
"Right, Sailor Girl," she retorted, and saluted with her shoulders back. "Aye. aye. Now back to swabbing the deck, and when you're done with that, clean the urinals." She pivoted and marched away, the frail of clones giggling and following like obedient rats.
When I gazed around. I saw dozens of students watching me in anticipation. My own face felt as if it was on fire. I had this great urge to leap over the table and tackle her. Randy, as if he could feel or hear my thoughts, reached up and touched my arm.
"Fo... forget her." he said, timing me to sit.
I gazed her way once more. Roger and Wally were at her table now, and they were all laughing.
"I can't let them get away with this," I said. I pulled free of Randy's slight grasp.
"Grace!" he cried, but I continued to march across the cafeteria.
By now everyone had been given a blow-byblow summary of my confrontation with Phoebe, and a few hundred eyes were on Inv every step.
Phoebe. Ashley, Roger, and Wally looked up, their faces full of surprise at my daring to approach them.
"I-low could you do this?" I asked Roger. "How could you pretend you didn't ask if you could come to my house tonight? Was this why you snuck out of the parking lot yesterday and drove like a maniac? Are you so afraid of her that you would slink about like a rodent and then lie?"
Roger couldn't hold my gaze. He smiled. shook his head, and looked down.
"I guess you're not as good at reading someone else's cards as you think you are, Sailor Girl." Phoebe said, her face overflowing with satisfaction.
"No. I'm good at it when I'm not playing with a bunch of cheats. And I'll tell you this, Phoebe." I added, fixing my gaze on her like a laser. "He might be afraid to tell you the truth to your face, but when he was with me he revealed just how little respect he has for you. Someday he might get up the nerve to tell you, and that." I said. turning. "is when he will become a man."
There was a great moan and then laughter. I glanced back and saw Roger's face was cherry red and Phoebe was so furious she was the one who now looked as if she had smoke pouring out of her ears.
I felt a little better. but I didn't stop trembling until I was in class again, I knew this was far from over, and I could just imagine what sort of trouble she would try to make for Mommy and me at the restaurant. I had to tell Mommy about it all as soon as
I
could. I thought, and regretted now that I had kept Roger's intention to visit me a secret.
I wanted to get home as soon as possible after school, but my intermediate algebra teacher had divided the class into groups of three and scheduled us for extra work three days a week. Today was my group's day, so
I
had to attend the session and remain at school an extra hour. By the time I got home Mommy was already off to work. She had left me a note about the food she had prepared and wanted me to warm for my dinner.
Despondent and frustrated. I hardly ate a thing. Randy called to see how
I
was doing. I told him fine and not to worry but thanked him for being
concerned. He was a very sweet person, truly like a bird trapped in a cage constructed out of his own disability. Part of the reason I had fallen so quickly into the trap I now imagined Phoebe and Roger had set for me was my appreciation of how protective and compassionate Roger had been toward Randy, but that proved to be an exception and not the -rule for his behavior. No one was what he or she seemed to be. I thought. Mommy had warned me of this. She had told me to take my time before placing my trust in anyone.
But how long did you have to wait. I wondered, and when did you know it was safe? Was it ever safe?
I phoned the restaurant. but Dallas told me they were very busy and Mommy would call me as soon as she had a free moment.
"It's one of those nights when everyone we booked comes on time.
I
could have used you, too." she shouted over the din.
I'd rather be there that here, I thought. I thanked her and went about preparing my dinner.
It had been a while since I had seen Augustus, While I sat at our dining table and gazed out the patio door toward the pond. I thought about him and wished I. too. could be in some sort of special home-study program.
I
was dreading returning to school the next day. Surely Phoebe would be setting some new trap or spreading some new story about me. How long would it go on? Why was it so important to her? I hoped that she would soon tire of it and aim her vicious guns at some other poor, unfortunate victim.
I was soon to learn that instead she was planning an even bigger assault.
.
Mommy didn't call me until nearly nine o'clock.
"I'm sorry, honey," she said. "This is the first real break I've had, and now there's a serious problem here. and I will be later than usual. I'm afraid."
"What kind of a problem. Mommy?"
She hesitated, and then in a voice barely audible, which told me she was trying not to be heard by anyone nearby, she said. "Money's missing. A lot of money."
"Money?"
"Warren is beside himself, and Dallas is practically in tears."
My heart skipped a beat and then began to thump. "No one thinks you took it, do they?" I asked.
"Of course not," she said. "Why would you even ask such a thing, Grace?"
"Was Phoebe there tonight?"
"Phoebe? Yes, why?"
"I'll tell you when you get home,"
I
said.
"Oh, don't wait up for me. honey. You get your rest. We can talk in the morning."
"No,"
I
said.
"I
might not be home for some time," she warned,
"I
don't care."
"What is it?" Before I could even begin, she said. "I have to go. Dallas is beckoning. Go to sleep." she ordered, and hung up.
Sleep? How could I ever fall asleep until I found out what was happening?
I sat staring down at the floor, trying to figure out what I should do next, when suddenly I felt
I
was being watched, When
I
looked up I nearly screamed. There was Augustus standing at our patio door looking in at me. His hair was as disheveled as ever, but for once he was wearing a plain black, shortsleeve shirt and sneakers. He didn't knock. He just stared in and stood there.
"What are you doing?" I asked, opening the door. "You frightenedme."
He didn't look as if he had heard a word. His expression or lack of one didn't change. I wasn't even sure he was seeing me, his eyes were that glassy.
"Augustus?"
He turned slowly to me. "Mrs. Dorahush is in the hospital," he said.
"Your grandmother? Why? What happened?"
"Angina pectoris."
"What's that mean?"
"That is a disease marked by brief paroxysmal attacks of chest pain precipitated by deficient oxygenation of the heart muscles." he recited. He kept his gaze stoic, his eyes unmoving. "In layman's terms, she is on the threshold of a heart attack."
"Oh. Augustus. I'm so sorry. Will she be all right?"
"I don't know." he said.
How small and trivial my problems with Phoebe now seemed. "Have you eaten? Do you want something to eat or to drink?" He shrugged.
"Came on in. My mother left me too much lasagna. You like that? She makes it delicious."
He stepped into the condo and let me sit him at the table. "Let me just throw it into the microwave." I told him.
I brought him a setting, silverware, and a napkin.
"You have to be brave for her. Augustus. I bet she's worried more about you right now than she is about herself."
He nodded. "I'm sure that's true. She was the only one who encouraged me." he said. "When I was little I frightened my parents."
"Frightened? Why?"
"They were unable to deal with a three-year-old who could read and write, and when
I
performed higher math at the age of seven they thought
I
was some sort of freak. Other children my age were afraid to be with me, and older children were embarrassed by the way I showed them up. It made it harder for my parents to keep their friends.
"In junior high the other students would pull as many pranks on me as they could. They stole my books and my notebooks in the hopes I would fail my tests. but I didn't need any of it. and that got them frustrated and even more angry. Finally, the guidance counselor told my parents I belonged in a special environment. That's a euphemistic way of telling them to get me out of there. They couldn't deal with me. MIS. Dorahush found the program for me, you know,"
"Why do you insist on calling her that? Just call her your grandmother."
"She's disappearing." he explained. "Like my parents. I'd rather she disappeared as Mrs. Dorahush."
I stared at him, understanding that this was his way of keeping himself emotionally protected. The formality was his cocoon.
The bell went off on the microwave, and I went for his food. Once he tasted it, he ate with enthusiasm,
"This is good." He paused and looked around as if just realizing we were alone. "Where's your mother?"
"At work." I explained where she worked and the how and why.
"Your mother is heroic," he declared.
"Why?" I asked. smiling. I liked to think that, but how did he come to such a conclusion?
"She has suffered a great tragedy, and she continues to move forward, to say yes to life and all the responsibilities. She doesn't wallow in her misfortune, and she doesn't let it shape or remake her.
"All life is suffering." he continued.
"Everything that lives, lives on something that dies. This food is full of things that were once alive: wheat used in the noodle, the meat, the vegetables. Orthodox vegetarians make me laugh... they won't eat anything that has a face or a mother. They don't realize that the earth is a mother. Everything is born, and everything dies."
I knew he was being dark and deeply
philosophical because he was so despondent over his grandmother. but I thought.
How lonely he must be. He lives and thinks on a level so above the world I'm in. It's as if he's skipped over more than just a normal childhood.
He was more like a wise old man even though he was still a teenager. My problems with Phoebe couldn't begin to attract his attention, and vet I couldn't help wondering what such a genius as he could suggest.
"I have a problem at school." I began. "It's spreading like a disease. and I think it's infecting my mother as well."
He raised his eyebrows and sat back to listen.
"You've analyzed it correctly," he said after I concluded. You shouldn't have gone after her and fought the same way. When you do that, you can't win, because you've become your enemy."
"I've become my enemy?"
"Yes, you've become just like her, using her tactics, living in her world. Soon you'll have your little faction, and she'll have hers, and that will please her because it will confirm that the way she sees you and the rest of the world is correct."
"What do
I
do?"
"Nothing," he said. "This is someone who is devastated if she is ignored. She'll do whatever she can to get a rise out of you, and the more you resist, the more frustrated she will become, and eventually anyone with half a brain who watches all this will become disgusted with her and tell her to get a life, get over it.
"It was the secret and still is the secret behind the nonviolent movement. The oppressors don't know what to do if the oppressed refuse to acknowledge them but vet will not fight them the way they expect. They are prepared for a battle, and when they don't get it they are confused and frustrated. So will she be."
"I wish you were attending my school." I said. He smiled. "Sometimes
I
do. too."
"Can't you?"
"I'd only be bored in class, and my teachers would feel insecure and dislike me, It's happened too often."
"But there are other things beside studies. There are sports, activities, parties. Don't you miss any of that, Augustus?" He shrugged.
"I
don't think about it."
"Then you're practicing the nonviolence on yourself." I said. He smiled. "What do you mean?"
"You're avoiding the conflict, refusing to acknowledge feelings you have."
He looked at me a moment and nodded softly. "Maybe you're smarter than you think you are," he said.
"I
wish I was smarter at math. I dread starting that homework." "Oh? Let me look at it," he said.
We went to my room, and I showed him the text and the chapter. He began to talk about it and explain it in a way that was so much simpler than our teacher had. After he worked on a few of the problems with me. I understood and did the remaining ones in half the time.
"You could be a teacher already," I told him.
"No. I wouldn't be a good teacher. Normally
I
don't have the patience. It's like a runner who has to trot because the others can't keep up. It's too frustrating for me. I don't mean to sound egotistical. It's just how it is."
"I understand."
I
said.
"I think you do," he replied, and then he surprised me by leaning forward to kiss me. "Don't be mad," he said immediately.