Becoming Ellen (21 page)

Ellen stared at her plate, her need to stay unknown wrestling with her need to understand. Then very quietly, she said, “Once, when I was moved to a new school, two older girls held me down while another one wrote on my face with a marker.” No one responded, there was no outcry or expression of pity, just polite attention. “They wrote ‘freak,' and they drew arrows pointing to my scars. That wasn't a shadow, it was a Sharpie. It took a week to wear off. Every day I would leave for school, go into the gym, and spend the day in the basement. That was the only way I could ‘control' it. I made that choice.”

Andy nodded. He seemed interested, but not to the point of being intrusive. “When you think of that incident now, how does it make you feel?” he asked.

Ellen shrugged. “I don't think of it.”

“But you just remembered it now, so how do you feel?”

Ellen gave the question some consideration. Underneath the embarrassment of speaking up in a group of people, she did feel something else, but she couldn't identify it. A sharp spike of annoyance at these confident, happy people surged through her, threatening to make her lash out. But even as the anger pierced her, Ellen's gaze landed on Temerity's father, watching her with his kind, respectful eyes from his ravaged face, and she knew that he was not responsible for the way she felt, for her . . . “Anger,” she said. “If I let myself—and I don't—I guess I would feel angry.”

Andy and Dory both nodded. “I'll bet you would,” Dory said. “And with good reason.” She stabbed a piece of roast beef with her fork. “I hope they got theirs. Little bitches.”

There was a second of shocked silence at this condemnation from such a gentle, self-possessed woman, and then the table erupted in a chorus of laughter. And Ellen found that one of the voices was hers.

“Can you pass me that gravy?” Andy asked Ellen. “Go ahead and help yourself first. More potatoes?”

And so the unpleasant memory returned to its confinement deep in Ellen's past, but strangely, it seemed to have lightened by a fraction. A tiny piece of the anger had been worn away by contact with the outside.

After all, Ellen knew from long experience that very little in life is easy. Maybe it isn't supposed to be. Maybe what is important is that, whether it's easy or hard, we accept it, and do the best we can.

On the drive back into the city, Ellen stared out the window at the thickening of buildings and human occupation. More buildings, with less space per person, were multiplying as they sped by. She thought about how Andy Bauer seemed to get on with his life without letting his disfigurement stop him. He had made his life
useful
. It made her think.
Am I doing my best?
It was a question she'd never even considered before, and the sudden tightness in her chest made her want to stop thinking about it now.

T
hey steadily climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, but halfway up the last flight, Temerity paused and sniffed the air.

“What?” Ellen asked.

“It's . . . like a summer garden, but where's it coming from?” Temerity answered, and they continued up. Ellen put a hand on Amanda's arm to silence her reaction, as the two of them, along with Justice, saw what was causing the now strong floral smell. Temerity set one foot on the landing then drew it back. “What the . . . ?”

Ellen said, “Go ahead, walk.” And shared a smile with Amanda and Justice, who were looking at the scene before them, eyebrows raised.

Between the top step and the door was spread a path of flower petals. Temerity had stopped in response to the soft, yielding feeling beneath her feet. With each step, the crushed flowers released a new wave of scented delight. “What is this?” Temerity asked.

“I think piano guy wanted to send you flowers,” Ellen suggested.

“So he threw them on the floor?” Temerity asked.

Ellen nodded, realized that was insufficient, and added, “I think he wanted you to enjoy them, you know, the best way
you
could.”

A soft breath caught in Temerity's throat, and her eyes, dark and thoughtful, shone. But she said nothing, only walked to the door and back, and then to the door again, breathing deeply, her nostrils slightly flared with a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “Pretty cool move.” But that was all.

They went into the loft quietly, in case Seth was sleeping. What they found was not just Seth, but Thelma and Runt asleep as well. Thelma was stretched out on the floor next to the sofa, her head on a throw pillow and her jacket tossed over her. Runt was curled up at her feet. Justice shook Thelma gently to awaken her. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then immediately checked on Seth, then her watch.

“It's time for another dose of antibiotics,” she told Justice.

“I'll do it,” whispered Amanda. She leaned over the coffee table, where they'd laid out the supplies, and selected the bag. “Then I have to get back to the hospital. Twenty-four-hour emergency room shift.”

Temerity was standing near her brother's shoulder. She said, “We need to move Seth into a bedroom. He can have mine.”

“No, when he wakes up, I'll move him into mine. That way he can have the TV in there,” Justice insisted.

Temerity grinned. “And will you go stay at Amanda's? She's met the parents. Next step, arguing over wallpaper. Pointless, as far as I'm concerned, unless it's a choice between velvet or faux fur.”

Next to the hat stand, Amanda blushed and shot a look at Justice, who was frowning at his sister. “Okay, first of all,” he said, “Amanda and I will decide when it's time to make the next step and what that will be. Second, I'd like to be around to help out right now. And thirdly, fur wallpaper is a really good idea.”

Temerity shrugged, but Ellen could see from her impish expression that she'd accomplished what she'd wanted. “Okay, fair enough. But women like Amanda don't grow on trees you know.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you,” Justice enunciated pointedly.

Thelma seemed amused at the exchange. “Well, I've got to go pick up Beth for date night.”

“I've got to get ready for work,” Ellen said, eager to vacate. She started toward the hallway.

“Me too!” Temerity said. “Justice can you drive me? You'll be back before Ellen leaves, right Ellen?”

“You want me to stay with Seth?” Ellen turned back, alarmed. “Alone?”

“He'll be fine,” Amanda said. “Most likely, he'll sleep most of the time for the next few days. He should, anyway.”

Everyone split up. Ellen got dressed in her work clothes and then came back downstairs, where she sat awkwardly on one of the stools with her notebook, writing down what had happened at the Bauers'.

A voice spoke behind her. “I have to get up.”

Ellen turned. Seth was sitting up, his blond hair sticking out at the back. He was holding up his left arm, which trailed the IV. Ellen didn't know what to do.

“Uh, well. Can you wait a little bit? Justice will be back soon.”

Seth looked at the floor. “I have to go to the bathroom,” he said, his face reddening.

“Oh. Okay.” Ellen got up and went to look at the contraption. She could make no sense of it, and she was afraid if she unplugged it, the way she'd seen Amanda do, that all the expensive medicine might leak out. She wanted to go back upstairs and leave this for someone else. The idea of going with a boy, or anyone, to the bathroom had her shoulders twitching involuntarily. She had no idea how to help him and that panicked her. Then she thought,
Be useful, do your best!

The IV line was about six feet long. Okay, she could do this. She walked around the sofa until she was standing beside the hat stand. “Can you stand up and walk?” she asked Seth as she tested the balance of the hat rack by picking it up.

“Of course,” Seth said grandly, but when he tried, he swayed a little and sat back down.

Ellen shifted so that she could hold the stem of the rack with her right hand and get her left under Seth's arm. Slowly, they shuffled their way to the hallway and the bathroom, no easy job without tangling the tubes, especially with Runt glued to Seth's legs. Ellen set the rack down in the bathroom, made sure that Seth was steady on his feet while Runt panted happily up at him, and then she went out, closing the door behind her. “Just yell when you want to go back,” she called from outside the door. She retreated down the hall as far as she could go without being worried she wouldn't hear him, and waited, trying to ignore the sensation that a swarm of bees had settled and were crawling frantically over her face and arms.

“You were right about the bathtub. The first time I came in here, I thought it was a pool,” Seth called from behind the closed door. Ellen couldn't help smiling. She took two steps closer and called back, “I told you!”

“It's gigantic! Why does it have feet?”

The bees stopped swarming and stood still, but Ellen could still feel the hum of them waiting. She moved forward another two steps so she didn't have to shout. “I don't know. It's called a claw-foot tub. I guess it's kind of old-fashioned.”

“Man, old people must have really liked taking a bath.”

“They didn't have showers,” Ellen told him. It was all she knew to contribute. She leaned against the wall outside the door. The bees lifted off her, flying as a unit, and Ellen rubbed her face and arms to dismiss the crawling sensation they had left. She heard a flushing sound, and then the water in the sink running.

“Okay, I'm done,” Seth said.

Ellen opened the door and they repeated their tramp back to the sofa, this time with an iota more grace. Seth sank down gratefully, as though the short trip had exhausted him, and Runt took up his position with his head on Seth's chest. The boy lifted his arm and examined the insertion point of the drip. It had been taped over with clear tape. “This is so cool,” he said.

Ellen looked, felt a wave of dizziness, and averted her gaze. She remembered Seth telling Beth that he would like to be a doctor, though of course Seth didn't know she'd heard that. “What's cool is that Beth knows how to do that.
I
never could,” Ellen said. She sat down in one of the armchairs. “I pass out when I see blood. Mostly my own.”

Seth looked like he might laugh. “No way!” he exclaimed. “How do you know?”

Ellen started to shake her head and opened her mouth to say, “Just do,” when she caught sight of his eager face, waiting and listening. “'Cause I got shot once,” she said.

The reaction was very satisfying. Ellen couldn't ever remember telling anything about herself that had been so well received. Seth's eyes opened wide and his mouth dropped open. “You
did
? When? How? What happened?”

Shyly, weighed down with natural reticence that lifted away as she went on, Ellen began to tell the story of Irena and her abusive husband, his attempt to rob Costco, Justice's daring intercession, and how the bad guys had been foiled. For all her love of gathering stories, it was the first time Ellen had ever told an adventure of her own.

It went over big. She finished by explaining how they had used her own skin to repair her face.

“Can I see?” Seth asked. “I mean up close?”

The bees came back. Ellen could hear the alarming hum of the swarm in the air around her.
Do your best, she thought. It isn't easy, but it won't ever get easier if you don't try.
So she braved her vibrating nerves and went to kneel next to the sofa, holding her hair back on the left side. Seth leaned in, inches from her face, and examined the area with intense interest. Finally he relaxed back.

“That's so cool!” he said. “I bet I could learn to do that. It's like sewing. Sometimes I have to sew things, you know, things that need to be fixed.”

“Me too,” Ellen said. “But I couldn't do it to skin.” The very idea made her shudder. She heard footsteps outside on the landing, and Runt leapt up and went to meet Justice as if he were returning from a long journey. There was much rejoicing.

Justice came in and paused at the sight of Ellen on the floor next to Seth.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Did you really jump on a guy who had a gun?” Seth asked him with awe.

“Uh, yeah. Did Ellen tell you about that?” Justice looked at Ellen with a combination of bemusement and approval.

“She did. It's a good story. You should write it down.”

“I think Ellen probably wrote it down,” Justice said, smiling. He had encouraged Ellen's recording incidents in her notebooks since they'd first met. “Did she tell you how she karate-kicked a crazy guy on a bus after he made it crash?”

“What?” Seth exclaimed, turning to Ellen with expectation.

“Not now,” Ellen said. She was glad that Seth had liked her story, but that was more “sharing” than she remembered ever doing, and she felt drained. “I have to go to work.” She got to her feet and backed away.

Justice came over and smiled down at Seth. “Do you need to use the bathroom? You've been sleeping all afternoon.”

“Ellen took me,” Seth said simply.

Ellen saw Justice's jaw twitch, but he didn't look at her. She had the idea that he didn't want to look too amazed. She turned and headed for the hallway. Her chest felt . . . expanded somehow. Like her heart had swelled up. As she went through the door, she glanced back. Justice was watching her with the same look that she had seen on Dory's face when she'd looked at her family around the dinner table. Ellen floated up the stairs to get her bag.

•   •   •

T
he mood at work was subdued after the excitement of the previous night, but Ellen was curious how things had gone for Jimmy. Knowing that would be tonight's hot topic for the Crows, she decided to find out. Taking a duster, she moved down the rows of aisles until she spotted Kiki and Rosa in canned vegetables. Ellen went down the parallel row until she was level with them, and tuned in.

“So, he has to stay in bed for
three
days?” Kiki was asking. “Because of his
head
?”

“That's what the doctor said.” Rosa sighed. “I guess there was some swelling? And they want it to go down.”

“That horrible man!” Kiki said. “It
must
have been Eric. Did the police talk to him yet?”

“They want to question him, of course, but they made it pretty clear that without some kind of witness or ID, they wouldn't be able to do much.” Rosa was genuinely distressed over this. Ellen reflected that gossiping about your own misfortunes must not be as much fun as talking about other people's, especially if danger was still impending.

“I just can't believe he's going to get away with this!” Kiki fumed, and Ellen could actually hear Kiki's breath streaming through her nostrils, like steam from a teakettle. “It makes my blood boil!”

To Ellen's surprise, she heard a sudden sob. Stooping down, she peered between the stacked gallon cans of tomato sauce. Rosa was slumped on a stool, which she had been using to dust the low shelves, her face in her hands. “I just . . . can't believe it,” she sobbed. “What if Jimmy had been killed? And his wife about to have a baby. And Eric is still out there!”

Kiki patted her friend's shoulder with a flat hand. “Come on, don't cry. Jimmy is going to be okay, and we're going to keep an eye on things around here from now on!”

Ellen smiled at that.
From now on.

Rosa sniffed and blew her nose on a rag. “I'm so afraid he'll come back and hurt someone else. Something is wrong with that man.”

“A lot of things are wrong with that man,” Kiki agreed fervently. “But now it's best to just stay out of the way and let the police do what they can.”

“Which isn't much, apparently,” Rosa said with some bitterness. Then she sighed, a long, raggedy sigh. “But I guess we can hope they get him in the end.”

Ellen moved on, thinking that sometimes you have to do more than hope. Sometimes you have to give hope a little nudge. Sometimes you have to do something useful.