Ruby Unscripted (3 page)
“I was going to make a tent where my bed is.”
“Mac,” I say as he leaves the room in the exact opposite mood he came in with. “I'll make a s'more with you.”
That brings the big wide smile that could seriously put the kid in commercials. “Okay! See you downstairs. And you need to see my secret compartment in my room.”
I stay in my new room until the cold seeps in from outside and the shivers take over.
There are mattresses all over the living room and a fire blazing so hot that everyone sits without jackets. I peel mine off as I enter the room.
So here we are.
And then Mom's cell phone rings.
I listen to Mom on the phone with a sinking feeling in my stomach. It's not that hard to figure out that someone is dead, and then a few moments later who that person is.
When someone dies, it's like everything you know about them and any memories you have all become heightened and important. I didn't know Tony Arnold all that well.
“How did it happen?” Mom says, sitting on the edge of a large cardboard box.
We gather around her to hear the tragic details.
“That's horrible.”
Though we weren't close friends, Little Tony, as everyone called him, and I went to church together for years. We were in Sunday school and youth group. We were in the Christmas play every year. He was a grade older but looked years younger.
“I'll send Maggie some flowers,” Mom says, referring to Tony's mother, before ending the conversation.
“Little Tony Arnold is dead? What happened?” Aunt Jenna asks before I do.
“It's so awful. He overdosed.”
“Sweet little Tony?” Aunt Jenna asks, and it is hard to think of him as anything but that cute little guy we knew at church.
I remembered once during church when Little Tony and I were supposed to help in children's church, but instead we went exploring. We heard a noise and raced through a door, with Little Tony going first. He fell straight into the baptismal during the pastor's sermon. I could laugh at the memory, except that now Tony is dead.
“I guess he's been doing a lot of drugs and drinking a lot.”
And there is talk about it for a while, and discussion of how sad it all is, but then everyone moves on after the arrival of the Chinese food and the search for a few more sleeping bags. But I can't stop thinking of little Tony Arnold. It's like he lingers on the borders of everything we do and say.
Kate texts me awhile later when we're all in our sleeping bags. Mac is playing his Nintendo DS under his covers. I'm texting friends.
KATE:
Hey.
ME:
This Md I knew died.
KATE:
Who?
ME:
I don't think you know him. He went to my church. little Tony we called him.
KATE:
Well, that's a name to haunt a guy. HOW'd he die?
ME:
That's the crazy part. Drugs. He was this sweet little kid. I saw him last Christmas. He was still really short and cute.
KATE:
Short and cute? Named Little Tony, and he's in high school?
ME:
Yeah, which would be painful.
KATE:
Guess that explains the drugs.
ME:
Yeah. Maybe.
And I can't stop thinking of him. Every memory I can resurrect, I find and go over, searching for some hint of the shortness of his life. Little weird things like a funny story he told on a youth trip to Marine World, or how when we watched the movie
Simon Birch
, the main character reminded us of Little Tony. Things like that.
And I don't want to forget him, which is strange. How often have I ever thought of him except when I'd see him? Now I can't stop thinking about him. Because now he's dead. Little Tony is dead, and isn't it important to remember him now, to give some kind of meaning to his life?
It's midnight, and I'm texting from inside my sleeping bag with the phone charger plugged into the wall.
KATE:
Nick asked me what you said.
ME:
What I said?
KATE:
About him liking you. I told him the movie started
so I didn't get a reply.
ME:
What is this, seventh grade? He can't ask me these
things himself?
This Nick drama is annoying me, probably because I'm moody and antsy and want Carson to get here. He should hear about Little Tony, who was a grade in between us. Carson will
remember the time Little Tony did a perfect rendition of an Oompa-Loompa from
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
KATE:
Well, it is Nkk. He? either has a girl calling and chasing him, or he doesn't really know what to do
I like this guy, I remind myself. In between the other guys I've liked, Nick has been on the top five list for maybe two years, moving into the number one slot in the past months. We danced once at a freshman orientation danceâone of our friends forced us togetherâand for a split second I thought he might kiss me. Then someone bumped into us, and the magic was gone. Our friends said we'd make the best couple; we even look alike in a way. We both have dark hair and blue eyes, complexions that tan easily, and he's enough inches taller that I wouldn't tower over him in heels.
Uncle Jimmy keeps snoring off and on.
Aunt Jenna hits him and whispers, “You're snoring again. Roll over.” There's some scuffling around, and then he rolls over.
KATE:
You still awake?
ME:
Of course
KATE:
Allen wants me to play Xbox.
ME:
Let me guess. His friends are gone so he's begging little sister.
KATE:
You know it. He really needs to go back to college. My parents are bout to go crazy. Bui why so little talk bout Nick? I'm starting to think you don't like him.
ME:
I do. Just being down here now, knowing if s for real, and then hearing about that kid dying... everything's weird. I should just force myself to sleep.
KATE:
Wish you were here eh?
ME:
Yeah
I want to write,
But this is my chance, the change I've wanted
for years.
Near the city I can explore art and culture. It's sort of been my dream, if I really knew what my dreams were. I've just known that I wanted something different. Most of my friends wouldn't ever guessâhow something feels wrong at times, sometimes during the strangest moments like the middle of class or during a dance or while sitting around talking to everyone. Mom would say it's because I have a sense of purpose and calling for my life. Uh-huh. Aunt Jenna would say no one feels like they fit in during high school.
All I know is the essence of my dreams, and this awkward “nonfitting” feeling. I want to do things and see places that I can't quite put into words.
KATE:
LOL No, you don't really want to be here. You've
stared out the windows tor too many years my friend.
ME:
What?
How does she know about this?
KATE:
Don't you remember in seventh grade?
ME:
What in seventh grade?
KATE:
Mr. Quigley called you a zoner cause you were always staring out the windows. I asked why you didn't concentrate better. We were at the picnic tables at lunch. I remember perfectly.
ME:
Remember what?
KATE:
You said you were imagining the day when you escaped our little town. I said that I liked our little town. We got in a big tight about it We didn't talk till the not day.
ME:
We didn't?
KATE:
I can't believe you don't remember.
ME:
I don't.
KATE
: You said don't take it wrong. You had nothing against our little cow town. Which of course made me mad again. I said what was wrong with a cow town?
ME:
I remember. We laughed that you called it a cow town too, but didn't like ME saying it.
KATE:
Yesl The fight was over. But you said you wanted to explore the world, do something exciting.
ME:
l was like that back then?
KATE:
Oh, even earlier! In kindergarten you told Mrs K you were going to be Van Gogh. So see? You're doing what you've dreamed.
ME:
I guess so
KATE:
Don't let it get messed up.
Uncle Jimmy is back to snoring. I lie there for a long time, wishing one of my friends would pop in to say hello. Uncle Jimmy snorts a loud one, and I hear a snicker across the room, then Mac's whisper: “Is anyone else awake?”
“Yes,” I whisper back.
“Yes,” say my mom, Aunt Jenna, and Austin in unison.
For some reason, this makes Mom and Aunt Jenna start laughing. It infects us all, and soon we laugh so hard that Uncle Jimmy wakes in panic.
“What's going on? What's happening?”
Which makes us laugh harder, of course.
It's four o'clock, and we all get up. Mom digs through boxes for paper plates, the griddle, and pancake mix and starts mixing waffles while Austin makes coffee.
“Oh my gosh,” Aunt Jenna says, jumping up like the house is on fire. “Tomorrow is Thursday? I mean, today is Thursday the twenty-first. Oh, I can't believe it. With all the details of the move, I totally forgot, and we are definitely not ready.”
We're all asking, “What, what?”
“It's Premiere Night tomorrow. I mean today.”
“Oh no,” Mom says.
“Didn't Terri go on that health-spa vacation?” Uncle Jimmy asks, he too seeing this as a grave situation, and I want to interrupt and ask what Premiere Night is.
“Yes.” Aunt Jenna rubs her neck, a worried expression on her face.
She owns a coffeehouse/cinema called the Underground. I'm supposed to start working there next week.
“I could start tomorrow,” I say. “Or today, that is.”
At first Aunt Jenna protests, but she needs me. And so I'll be starting work at eleven.
“Oh, it looks like your brother left a message last night. Your dad said he was having trouble with the truck,” Mom says as she punches in numbers on her cell phone.
Again? I thought he'd be here already. It's like my wings are clipped with him gone. It's Thursday, and since Mom isn't making us start school till Monday, I'm thinking we could explore half of Marin County.
“Ruby, will you take over the waffles?”
Mom walks out of the kitchen before I respond. Austin follows her.
Maybe Carson can pick me up after work. He may grumble and complain about taking me places, but unless he's heading off with his friends, he usually goes where I want to go. And down here, he won't have friends at first. He'll want to do things with me even moreâ
Mom returns to the kitchen all quiet and distracted-like.
“Did Carson say when he'll be here?” I ask.
Mom is silent long enough to make me stare at her, ignoring the waffle sizzling in the iron.
“What? What is it?”
“He's not coming. It sounds like he wants to live with your dad.”
Carson not living with us?
