Life as We Knew It (12 page)

Matt knocked on my door this morning. "Breakfast is ready," he said.

"I'm never eating again," I said. "More food that way for you and Jonny."

Matt entered the room and closed the door behind him. "Stop being a baby," he said. "You made your point.

Now go to the kitchen and eat breakfast. You might want to kiss Mom good morning while you're at it."

"I'm not talking to her until she apologizes," I said. It's funny. I was still angrier than I was hungry. Or maybe I just knew that even after breakfast I'd still be hungry, so what was the point.

Matt shook his head. "I thought you were more mature than this," he said. "I expected better from you."

"I don't care what you expect," I said, which was a total lie. I care desperately what Matt thinks of me. "I didn't do anything wrong. Mom attacked me for absolutely no reason. Why aren't you telling her you expected better from her?"

Matt sighed. "I wasn't here," he said. "I only have Mom's version of what went on."

"Did she happen to mention that she was horrible?" I asked. "That she acted like I was some kind of criminal? Or did she leave that stuff out?"

"If you mean did she burst into tears and say she felt terrible for all the things she said to you, then the answer is no," Matt said. "But she did say how terrible she felt that you were going through all this.

Miranda, Mom is holding on by the skin of her teeth. She has the three of us to worry about and Mrs.

Nesbitt. And you know Mom. She's worried about Dad, too, and Lisa and her baby, and Peter. She's worried sick about Peter. He's working twelve-hour days, seven days a week, and she has no idea if he's eating anything."

I thought I was going to start crying again, which I didn't want to do. "Mom thinks we're all going to die," I said. "Doesn't she? Do you? Is this all for nothing? Are we all just going to die?"

"Mom doesn't think that, and neither do I," Matt said. I could tell he'd thought about it a lot, and that it wasn't just a glib answer. "That's not the same as saying the worst is over, because I don't think it is, and Mom doesn't think so, either. If things stay the way they are, then we have a real chance. All the scientists are working on making things better. That bag of food yesterday proves that things are improving."

"But this has to be the worst," I said. "How could things get any worse than they are now?"

Matt grinned. "You don't really want me to answer that, do you?" he asked.

We both laughed as I shook my head.

"Mom's more worried about Mrs. Nesbitt than she is about us," Matt said. "Mom's asked her to move in with us, but Mrs. Nesbitt has it in her head that it would be an imposition. Which only makes things harder for Mom."

"I know Mom doesn't want us to die," I said. I thought really hard about what I wanted to say so it would come out right. "But I think maybe she doesn't want us to live, either. We should just hide in our rooms and not feel anything and if we get rescued, great, but if we don't, well, maybe we'll live a little longer. If you can call that living. I know Mom tells you things she doesn't tell me, but am I wrong? Because I really feel that way more and more. I'd like to be wrong, because it scares me if Mom feels that way. But I don't think I am."

"Mom can't guess the future any better than you or me or Mrs. O'Leary's cow," Matt said. "Horton could be on CNN, assuming there still is a CNN, and have as much of a chance of being right as anybody else. But she thinks, and I do too, that we're in for some very hard times. Times worse than what we're going through now. And the way she sees it, the better we take care of ourselves now, the better chance we'll have when things get worse. So yeah, she probably does seem over-protective right now. I know she's scared to send Jonny off to camp, but she's absolutely determined to do that, and not let him know how worried she is. So don't you tell him, either."

"I won't," I promised. "Mom doesn't have to worry about me. I'm not stupid, Matt. But I don't want to have to stop feeling. I really think I'd rather die than stop feeling."

"No one's asking that of you," he said. "And Mom doesn't want you to stop swimming or to stop seeing Dan.

She's happy when you're happy. But she wouldn't want Dan to be the only friend you see under any circumstances. Why don't you visit Megan or Sammi? I could use some good Sammi stories."

The truth of the matter is I hardly even think about Sammi or Megan. It's like they're a part of the world that's already ended for me. But since I'd just finished a big speech about feelings, I didn't think I could confess that. So I nodded and told . Matt I'd get dressed and make things up with Mom.

But when I saw Mom in the kitchen, I didn't feel like getting all kissy-kissy with her. And I could see she wasn't all that eager to get kissy-kissy with me, either. She and Jonny were both sitting at the table, looking kind of glum.

Without even thinking about it, I said, "Jonny, you want to go to Miller's Pond with me this morning?"

Jonny's face lit up and I could see I'd said the right thing as far as Mom was concerned. "That'd be great,"

he said.

I have no idea why Jonny hasn't just invited himself along. It's not like I own Miller's Pond. But Jonny's been playing baseball or at least practicing with Matt. And Matt's been running when he hasn't been playing ball. Maybe they figured swimming was mine and they'd keep away from it.

Jonny put his trunks on under his jeans while I was eating breakfast, and as soon as we were both ready, we walked together to the pond. With my luck, of course Emily and Karen weren't there, so Dan and I lost good alone time.

But it was worth it to see how happy Jonny was in the water. There were a couple of kids he knew from middle school and the three of them played together. Then we all swam together, played water polo and imitation relay races. It was another one of those hot sunny days, so we all laid around after swimming and let the sun dry us off. Dan, it turns out, is a big Phillies fan, and he and Jonny talked baseball, which made Jonny even happier.

I've been so involved in my own problems, I haven't thought much about what all this is doing to Jonny.

Until I saw how excited he was talking with Dan about all-time great second basemen, I hadn't realized just how bored he's been. He's had Matt, and Matt's been great with him, but this time of year when Jonny isn't playing ball, he's watching it on TV, or following it on the Internet.

Jonny's passionate about baseball the way I used to be about skating. I'm really glad his baseball camp is going to be open. He deserves a couple of weeks of doing what he loves best.

I guess because Jonny was with me, Dan didn't walk me home. That was okay, because it gave me more of a chance to talk with Jonny.

"I've been thinking about something," he said, and I could tell it was something really important to him.

Right away that meant it wasn't anything good. "You know how I'm planning on playing second for the Yankees?"

Since Jonny's been planning on that since birth, I wasn't exactly surprised to hear it, so I just nodded.

"I know Mom's doing her best," Jonny said. "But I don't think I'm eating a well-balanced diet. Protein and stuff like that. I'm five five and I don't know how much taller I can get if I don't start eating hamburgers and roast beef."

"We're eating better than lots of other people," I said.

"Better than people here," Jonny said. "But what if there are thirteen-year-old guys in Japan or the Dominican Republic who are eating hamburgers and who are growing? I don't see how I can reach six feet on canned tuna. What if I end up five feet six?"

I would have laughed except he looked so serious. Besides, I knew Matt wouldn't have laughed. Matt doesn't laugh at my idiotic questions.

"You taking your vitamins?" I asked.

Jonny nodded.

"Well, they'll help," I said. "Look, Jonny, I don't know what things are going to be like tomorrow, let alone years from now. Even if things get back to normal and baseball is just like it is now, like it was last year I mean, players years from now may all be shorter than they used to be. Or maybe there'll be less competition for you because, well, because there just won't be that many second basemen around. I don't think things are great in the Dominican Republic or Japan. The guys your age may not grow to six feet, either, or have the time to work on their baseball the way you do."

"You mean you think they're all dead," Jonny said.

"Not exactly," I said, suddenly appreciating how well Matt's been handling me lately. "What I think is the whole world is going through rough times now, not just Pennsylvania. And there are probably boys in the Dominican Republic and in Japan who are worrying the same way you are. Only I don't know if they have vitamins or canned tuna. And I do know one thing. It's like Dad always says. The only way you can be the best at something is to be the best you can be. If you're the best second baseman you can be, you stand as good a chance as anyone at playing second for the Yankees."

"Do you hate all this?" Jonny asked.

"Yes," I said. "And I miss hamburgers, too."

When we got home, I saw Mom in the kitchen, flour and yeast and measuring cups all spread out on the counter. The kitchen must have been 100 degrees between how hot it was outside and the oven being on.

"Can I help, Mom?" I asked. "I'd like to learn how to bake bread."

Mom smiled at me. Really smiled. Smiled like I was her long-lost daughter, the good one, who she thought was gone forever. "I'd like that," she said.

So we baked and sweated together. I like punching the dough. I told myself it was the moon and punched it senseless.

Chapter Seven

July 2

Mom drove Jonny to baseball camp today. She came back really excited because she found a gas station near Liberty that was selling 5 gallons of gas at a time for $75. That's more than it costs here, but the stations here are down to a 2-gallon maximum, and Mom said it was worth the extra money to get so much gas at once.

One of the things I don't ask Mom is how much longer her cash is going to last. Then again, the only thing left to spend it on is gas, so I guess it doesn't much matter.

The temperature was near 100 and we haven't had electricity for the past 3 days. Matt decided it was time to chop down a tree. He sent me out to gather kindling. That seems dumb to me, but at least in the woods there was shade. And it's a lot easier to gather kindling than it is to chop a tree.

After I'd gathered 4 bags I brought them to the house. Matt was still working on the tree. At the rate he was going, it's going to take a week to chop down that tree.

I asked him if he wanted any help, and he said no.

But I didn't feel like I could just sit someplace reading while he was working. And frankly there wasn't that much I could do around the house. I weeded the vegetable garden, since Mom does that daily, and I washed the dishes, and then just to prove I was good for something, I scrubbed the bathrooms and washed the kitchen floor.

Matt came in and took a drink of water. "Very impressive," he said. "Got any other plans for the day?"

I was a little scared to admit I didn't, so I just mumbled.

"Why don't you visit Sammi and Megan?" he asked. "Have you seen them since school ended?"

I hadn't. Of course they haven't come to visit me, either.

But just to keep Matt from harping on it, I decided to pay calls. It felt very Jane Austen-y to do that. None of her heroines had phones or computers and nowadays neither do I.

It took 15 minutes to walk to Sammi's and I sweated the whole way. I wasn't too happy when I got there to find no one was home.

For a moment I wondered if her whole family had packed up and left (some families are doing that, moving down south because things are supposed to be better there), but there was laundry on the clothesline.

Funny to think of Sammi's mom hanging clothes on the line. Of course that's what we're doing now, but Sammi's mother was never exactly the domestic type.

There didn't seem any point in staying around waiting for someone to show up, so I walked over to Megan's. I knocked on the door and Megan's mom opened the door right away.

She looked beyond happy to see me. It gave me a deja-vu feeling. It was the same kind of look I used to get from Becky's mom.

"Miranda!" Mrs. Wayne said, and she pulled me into the house. "Megan'll be so glad to see you. Megan, Miranda's here!"

"Is she in her room?" I asked.

Mrs. Wayne nodded. "She hardly leaves it," she said. "Except to go to church. I'm so glad you're here, Miranda. See if you can talk some sense into her, please."

"I'll do my best," I said, but we both knew nothing I could say was going to change Megan's mind. I've never been able to change Megan's mind about anything.

Megan opened the door to her bedroom and she seemed genuinely happy to see me. I checked her out carefully. She's lost some weight, but not as much as I'd been afraid.

What did scare me, though, was how she glowed. She positively radiated inner joy. No way that makes sense these days.

"How are you?" she asked, and she seemed genuinely interested in everything I told her. And I told her most everything, about how Dan and I were seeing each other almost every day, and how Jonny was on his way to camp, and how Matt was chopping a tree. I didn't tell her about what food we still had because you don't talk about that anymore.

Once we finished with me, I asked her how she was. If anything, she got even more radiant. She was practically radioactive.

"Oh, Miranda," she said. "If only you could know the true happiness I'm feeling."

"I'm glad you're happy," I said, although frankly I thought she was crazy, and bad as things are, I'm still not glad when people are crazy.

"You could be happy, too, if you only embraced God," she said. "Admit your sins, cast out Satan, and offer your heart to God."

"You getting to church much?" I asked. Megan had listened to me rattle on about Dan, the least I could do is listen to her rattle on about Reverend Marshall.