She's Gone: A Novel (20 page)

27

Summertime

The doorbell rang. Daniel looked at Jolie, his eyes wide. Was he nervous? She opened the door. Leah stood radiant in a summer dress and sandals, her black curls shining. She handed Jolie a bouquet of fragrant pink and white Asiatic lilies. Jolie glanced at Daniel, still frozen against the sink.

After Jolie introduced them, Will, Sam, and Ginger drifted into the kitchen. Jolie put the flowers in a makeshift vase, and Daniel poured wine. Janis Joplin’s “Summertime” played on the stereo and Will sang along, his voice rich and low. He was mesmerizing. Everyone stopped and listened. He looked at Jolie as he sang, and she lost herself in his dark brown eyes, warmth spreading through her. She never tired of looking at him. This tender side was the Will she loved. She needed to buy him a guitar.

At dinner, Leah asked Daniel about his teaching job. “But why Roxbury High School?”

“I was hoping to make a difference in their lives.”

“So are you?” Sam asked.

Daniel frowned. “I can’t seem to get them interested in anything.”

Jolie breathed deep. The scent of the flowers in the vase was intoxicating. She smiled inwardly. The mood and the music were perfect for the dinner party. “Daniel’s going to take a portrait of each student in his summer school classes. I’m going to be his assistant.” Jolie said.

“No way. You’re not hanging out in Roxbury,” said Will. “It’s a burned out rat hole.”

Jolie stared at Will in shock. These were the very same people he was trying to raise out of poverty. He must be concerned about her safety. “I’m only helping in the dark room.”

“Roxbury can be intimidating, especially for a white guy,” Daniel said. He told them about the riots and lootings after Martin Luther King was assassinated. “It was a war zone. It’s still an urban war zone. Vacant lots are filled with trash. Arsonists burn anything flammable. No one even bothers to board up the burned out buildings anymore.”

“Then why do you stay there?” Leah asked.

“I am hoping to get through to one or two kids and help them get into college. They are desperate to get out of there. They just don’t know how. I’m going to give it another year.”

Jolie heard the compassion in his voice and respected his selflessness. He was doing something specific. She looked forward to helping him with the portrait project.

Later, Jolie took Leah aside and showed her the apartment and darkroom. Their apartment wasn’t as spacious and didn’t have the architectural grandeur or as good a location as Leah’s, but it was clean and comfortable and she was saving money for their own place.

They stood in the dark room. “So, how do you like Daniel?”

Leah smiled. “He’s cute. And smart. I admire his dedication to those kids.”

They looked at some photos.

“Look at his eyes.” Leah said.

The print of the Vietnam vet with the My Lai sign hung by a clip. Despite his smile, there was obvious pain in his eyes.

“What did Will say about these?” Leah pointed to the prints from Walden Pond.

“He hasn’t seen them yet. He’s so busy at the office. Check out these contact sheets. If you like any, I’ll print them for your apartment.”

“Wow, okay.”

Jolie stacked the Walden Pond photos and tucked them away. If Will saw them, it would only put him in a bad mood.

Leah picked out two photos from their day in the Public Garden. “I like these. I’ll buy the frames. Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course.”

“My folks are coming to visit from New York next weekend to see the apartment. Sarah and I are all freaked out because we want to cook them dinner, but it would be a disaster if we did. Can you join us and help cook?”

“Sure, but why not just go to a restaurant? Your neighborhood is full of them.”

Leah’s brown eyes widened. “We can’t. We want to show them we’re independent and doing fine on our own, but we need your help. I have to warn you, they’re very kosher.”

“What’s kosher?”

“You’ve never heard of kosher? There are Jewish laws on what can be eaten and how it’s prepared.”

“Laws?”

“They’re more like customs. Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in. I have the kosher part down. I just don’t know how to cook.”

“Oh, okay,” Jolie said.

They went to join the others. She’d be happy to help cook for Leah’s parents. But what in the world were the kosher laws? Now she was freaked out. She’d have to get some tips from Daniel.

Sunday morning after Will went into the office, Jolie went out to the back porch to read. Daniel wandered out with a cup of coffee. He sat next to her and surveyed the stack of open books on the table. “What are you studying so intently?” He flipped through a book on Boston’s history.

“I’m mapping out my route of historic places to visit and photograph. A walk through the American Revolution.” She glanced at him. His curly hair was uncombed and his wire-rimmed granny glasses were smudged. “Geez, give me your glasses. How can you even see?”

He handed over his glasses. “Hey, we could do that with my class instead of the portraits.”

“It would get them out of Roxbury,” she said. “They can take the photos.”

“They don’t have cameras, but they all need extra credit to pass summer school. This would be a good assignment.”

“I could ask the camera store if they could loan me a few used cameras for the day.”

He shook his head. “Loan them to kids from Roxbury High? You’re a dreamer.”

“It’s worth a try.” She sipped her tea. “Hey, there’s a free concert in the Cambridge Common today. Will and I are going. Do you want to join us?”

“I have to visit my folks today.”

She hesitated. “Can you give me a Jewish lesson?”

“A what?”

“I agreed to help Leah cook for her parents next Sunday, and I don’t want to blow it. She said they were very kosher whatever that is.”

“Oy vey.”

“Oy vey?”

“It’s a saying in Yiddish. It means ‘woe is me’.”

Would she have to learn a language too? “I thought I would stick with Italian food, like lasagna. That should be safe.”

He shook his head. “You can’t mix milk and meat.”

“There’s no milk in my lasagna.”

“Cheese.”

“Oy vey,” Jolie said.

Daniel laughed. “And no pork. Animal foods must be from mammals with split hooves that chew cud and fish must have fins and scales.”

She looked at him incredulously.

“That’s just the start. Kosher kitchens are very complicated. You have to use separate cookware and tableware for milk and meat dishes.”

Did Leah and Sarah have two sets of cookware? “What about you? I’ve totally blown it cooking.”

“I observe in varying degrees and certainly not the food rules. I love your cooking. I just don’t eat pork.”

What had she gotten herself into? But she couldn’t back out on Leah now.

Daniel rose. “I’ll borrow a kosher cookbook from my mom for you.”

She smiled up at him appreciatively.

Jolie arrived at the office dressed for the concert in her new fawn-colored short suede skirt, wide leather belt, lavender silk blouse, and sandals. A leather craftsman on the avenue had made the skirt and belt for her and a black leather vest for Will.

Will smiled as she walked through the door with her camera slung over her shoulder. Will, Coulter, Adam, an older man, and some students sat in the living room on an assortment of chairs and couches amid ringing phones and hammering typewriters. All heads turned to see who had caught his attention. The conversation simmered as she leaned on the door frame and listened to Will talk about his article series on the My Lai massacre.

“That’s old news,” Coulter said.

“Old news? The real truth has yet to be told,” Will said.

Jolie silently took her camera out of the case and snapped a photo of the group. Coulter’s eyes narrowed at her. She sucked in her breath at the intensity of his dark eyes.

“Lieutenant Calley was already tried and charged,” Coulter said, shifting in his chair.

“There are two stories. One is the massacre of five hundred unarmed Vietnamese civilians by U.S. troops, and the other is the cover up. We need the real story about what happened,” Will said.

“I agree,” said the older man. “There’s an army investigation underway. We don’t know what really happened over there other than it was horrific.”

Will introduced the older man to her, Professor Barnes, the owner of the house. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jolie said. “Can I make you some tea?” She set her camera down.

“I’d love some,” the professor said.

Coulter stood up and looked out the window to the street. The professor followed Jolie into the kitchen. Dirty mugs littered the counter and the sink. Jolie put on the kettle and began washing the dishes. “Black tea or jasmine?”

“Jasmine sounds delightful,” he said.

She poured the tea and the fragrant scent of jasmine flowers filled the room. Will joined them in the kitchen, and he and the professor talked more about My Lai. Jolie opened and read a stack of mail, sorting it into piles.

“Here’s a letter to you, Will,” Jolie said. “It says you wouldn’t include Black Power groups in the Socialist Movement if you knew what they were really saying about the Socialists. It’s signed from ‘a friend’.”

Will took the letter from her and read it. “This is bogus. What do you make of this?” He handed the letter to the professor.

The professor studied it. “It seems that someone is trying to manufacture a divisive split between different factions of the movement. The Black Power groups most likely received a similar letter slandering the Socialist Movement.”

“Who do you think is the ‘someone’?” Will asked.

Jolie’s eyes rested on Coulter still standing by the window. “The FBI?” She whispered.

“I wouldn’t put it past them. Check with your Black Power connections and see if they got a similar letter,” the professor said.

Jolie poured more tea. Their conversation turned to the growing strength of the Socialist Movement across the county. She got up and finished cleaning the kitchen and started to pick up the other rooms. She felt Will’s eyes follow her as she talked with the students and then Adam.

“Jolie girl, we hardly see you anymore. If it weren’t for these constant reminders, I’d think you were a figment of my imagination.” Adam nodded toward her photos tacked up on the walls.

She started to smile when she noticed her camera. It was on the table where she’d left it, but it was out of the case with the film door open. “Who was using my camera?” She looked around. Adam and the others shrugged. “We wouldn’t touch it.”

“The film is ruined now.” She advanced the roll and removed the film. All of the photos had been exposed. Who would do that? She glanced around the room again. Coulter was nowhere to be seen. When had he left? She retrieved a new film canister from her purse and reloaded the camera.

When the professor left Will strode through and announced, “We’re closing her down this afternoon. The free concert rules.”

On Monday after work, Jolie found Will on the back porch, sitting rigid his leather notebook open in his lap.

“You’re home? What’s the matter?”

“We printed a false story about Nixon’s timing to withdraw from Vietnam.”