In the Unlikely Event (25 page)

Miri

Miri went through her closet, pulling out shoes that didn’t fit, skirts she hadn’t worn since sixth grade, her old lime-green dress coat. Rusty said the rule for grown-ups was,
If you haven’t worn it in five years, you’ll probably never wear it again
. For kids it was two years.

Irene didn’t agree. “When you’ve been through two world wars and the Depression you don’t think that way.” Irene saved everything. But even she was putting together a box of clothing.

“I wish I’d saved Estelle’s things,” Ben said.

“It’s not like you sold them,” Irene said. “You donated them to a good cause.”

Miri went to Natalie’s house to help her clean out her closet. Natalie grabbed armloads of clothes, still on their hangers, and threw them onto her bed. “Just give it all away,” she told Corinne, when
she came into the room. “Including my cashmere sweaters,” Natalie said, scooping them out of her dresser drawer.

But Corinne hung all the good things back in Natalie’s closet. “You’re overreacting, Nat.”

“I don’t care about any of it,” Natalie said, flopping down on her bed.

Miri was about to volunteer to take the cashmere sweaters herself, but Corinne saved her. “We’ll give away anything you haven’t worn in two years.” So Corinne knew about Rusty’s two-year rule. Two years meant since Miri and Natalie had been best friends. It felt like way longer than two years to Miri. She could hardly remember life without Natalie. That she was able to covet Natalie’s cashmere sweaters at a time like this, when the people who’d lost everything in the crash had nothing, made her feel ashamed. She, after all, had Charlotte Whitten’s hand-me-down dresses. Wasn’t that enough? What was wrong with her? Why was she thinking such selfish thoughts?

At school they had a drive for pots and pans, canned goods, toys and books. The Red Cross was collecting boxes from all over town. Ben Sapphire was picking up and delivering. Irene was cooking and baking by day and knitting by night. After work, Rusty volunteered at the Red Cross house, putting together boxes of household goods and clothing to match each family’s needs. Some nights Rusty would stay out late, serving coffee and sandwiches to the volunteers working at the morgue. It was much harder to identify the victims this time. This time they were all burned beyond recognition. Dental records were often the only way to find out who they were. Except for the pilot. He was the first to be identified by what was left of the stripes on his uniform.

The busier they kept, the better they felt. At least they were doing something positive.

Elizabeth Daily Post

WHAT WENT WRONG

Will They Ever Know?

By Henry Ammerman

JAN. 28—The initial findings in the probe of the Jan. 22 crash of an American Airlines Convair point to a sharp, almost vertical drop of the plane. When it was noted that this must have resulted from a radical equipment breakdown, chief CAB investigator Joseph O. Fluet said he was not yet ready to draw any conclusions.

But another official, speaking off the record, speculated that the pilot might have tried to pull the plane upward in a desperate effort to redirect the crash away from Battin High School, leading to a stall, which caused it to plummet directly to earth. He noted that the pilot, Timothy Barnes, had grown up in Elizabeth and had graduated from Hamilton Junior High and Thomas Jefferson High School. He lived only a few blocks from Battin.

Captain Barnes surely realized the possible implications of crashing into that particular building on a school day.

17

Miri

“Life goes on” became Irene’s mantra. If Miri heard that expression one more time she was sure she would explode, just like the planes. If
life goes on
, then why shouldn’t she go with Frekki Strasser to the Paper Mill Playhouse?

“Out of the question,” Irene said.

“Because…” Miri prompted.

“Because you can’t trust the Monskys.”

“You think Frekki is going to kidnap me and send me to another planet in a flying saucer?”

“You’ll discuss it with your mother.”

“Ben Sapphire wants to take
you
to Miami Beach,” she told Irene. “Who’s to say he’s not going to kidnap you and take you on a flying saucer?”

“I should be so lucky.”

“You’d like to get on a flying saucer with Ben Sapphire?”

“What’s all this about flying saucers?”

It was true that Ben Sapphire wanted to take Irene on a trip to Miami Beach. He reminded them his wife was heading there when her plane went down in the Elizabeth River. As if they needed reminding. Miri still saw that plane in her sleep. She could feel the heat. She’d wake up drenched with sweat and have to change her pajamas. Once she was awake she found it hard to get back to sleep. To calm her nerves, to take her mind off Plane Crash City, she’d look into her kaleidoscope, telling herself,
You’re getting sleepy, you’re getting very sleepy…
If all else failed there were stories in the paper that gave her other things to think about.

ACTION! CAMERA!

One of many candid camera shots taken during the play “Goodbye, My Fancy,” presented by the Vail-Deane School Dramatic Club, assisted by the Pingry Players
.

You could tell the pretty blonde in the photo in the paper wearing the strapless dress with a full skirt was the lead. She was probably the most popular girl at Vail-Deane. Miri imagined herself at Vail-Deane, wearing a blue jumper and white blouse, the school uniform. All the girls at Vail-Deane were rich. They dated the boys at Pingry, who came from the same kinds of families. Some of the boys crossed themselves before basketball games. Miri had been to a game once with Suzanne, who had a cousin at Pingry. All of them went off to fancy colleges. Then they married each other and lived in single-family
houses with big backyards, had chubby babies and drank themselves to death. Miri knew the part about drinking themselves to death wasn’t necessarily true. She was just trying it out to make their lives seem less perfect.

Irene

Ben called Irene his “safety net.”
Without you I’m lost. Your warmth calms me
. She could think of worse things for a man to say to her. Rusty once accused her of rescuing people the way some people rescue stray animals. The way Mason had rescued Fred. Miri had told her about that, about how he’d found Fred starving and wet in a snowstorm when he was just a puppy. No collar. No tags. Mason had nursed him back to health. Miri knew Irene would respond to that story. But she still wouldn’t let the dog into her side of the house. Ben Sapphire, on the other hand, wasn’t a dog. He was a grown man who owned apartment buildings in Jersey City and Elizabeth. And he considered himself
mishpocheh
, one of the family, with her blessing.

She told Rusty she was thinking of taking him up on his offer to go to Miami Beach. They would travel by train. “Maybe for a week or two, although Ben would like to stay longer.”

From the look on Rusty’s face you’d think she’d just announced that a man had landed on the moon.

“He has two bedrooms,” Irene said, “one for him and one for me, and my own half bath, just a few blocks from the ocean.”

Miri, who wasn’t included in this discussion but was listening anyway, kept her mouth shut.

“I know his family,” Irene continued. “He knows mine. What could go wrong?”

Now Rusty looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

“You think I don’t know he could have any woman he wants—with his real estate and his new Packard? Am I somebody who ever wanted another husband? I have everything I need right here. My family, good friends, plenty to do. But a little adventure—what could be bad?”

“You know what could be bad,” Rusty said.

“You’re worried I’ll get pregnant?” When Irene laughed, Miri laughed with her.

Rusty, stony-faced, didn’t. “I’m worried about your feelings, your heart—”

“I have pills for my heart.”

“Not if it gets broken.”

“Darling…thank you for caring so much.”

Rusty shook her head and walked out of the room.

Miri stayed and gave Irene a hug.

Daisy

Longy had the last appointment of the day. “You know, Doc, you look like hell, no offense meant.”

And it was true. Dr. O had dark circles under his eyes and was so pooped at the end of office hours he sometimes took a snooze on the couch before heading home. Daisy was worried and prayed it wasn’t his heart. She’d been there when he’d lost his two brothers to back-to-back heart attacks while still in their forties.

“You need a vacation,” Longy said. “Come to Vegas with me. We’ll shoot craps. Eat the best steaks you ever tasted. I’ll show you around town.”

“Sounds good, Abe, but I can’t get away now.”

“Doc, sometimes when you think you can’t, that’s the time you have to.” Longy could be very persuasive. “You like Betty Hutton?”

“Is the pope Catholic?”

Longy laughed. “She’s playing in Vegas next week.”

“I wish I could, Abe.”

Before he left the office, Longy took Daisy aside. “Help me out on this, Daisy.”

“I’ll try, Mr. Zwillman.”

“I’m worried about him.”

“Me, too.”

So Daisy cleared the following Thursday, Friday and Monday, without further discussion.

Corinne called Daisy the next morning. “Whose idea is this trip to Vegas?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Longy’s, am I right?”

“Corinne…” Daisy took a deep breath. “He needs to get away. He’s exhausted. It’s beginning to affect him at the office.”

“He could go away with me.”

“That would be wonderful and I’d be glad to stay with the children.”

“The children,” Corinne said, as if she’d just remembered. “We can’t both be gone at the same time, not now.”

“It’s just for a long weekend,” Daisy reminded her.

“Yes, a long weekend, but with
Longy
.”

Daisy laughed. “No denying that.”

Corinne sighed. “All right.”

Daisy said, “If you need anything, I’ll be around.”

“Thank you, Daisy.”

On Wednesday, after office hours, Longy picked up Dr. O in a limo heading for LaGuardia. “We’ll catch some winter sun if we’re lucky,” Longy called to Daisy.

“Catch some for me, too.” Daisy waved goodbye.

Dr. O waved back.

Miri

Henry and Leah were planning their June wedding. They’d once talked about renting a big house down the shore, and everyone would come and stay for the weekend, but they’d changed their minds. The wedding would be smaller now, in a garden at the Hotel La Reine in Bradley Beach.

How could they be planning a wedding? Miri wondered. Because
life goes on
? Maybe this was true and maybe it wasn’t. Life might go on but it didn’t go on in the same way. It would never be the same for the Fosters. It would never be the same for the Steins. It might never be the same for Natalie. She didn’t know who Natalie was anymore. She wasn’t even sure about herself. Who was this girl who looked back at her from the mirror? If she’d once thought being in love
could fix anything, she didn’t anymore. It couldn’t bring back Penny or make Betsy better.

—

SHE BEGGED RUSTY
to let her go to the Paper Mill Playhouse with Frekki. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Rusty didn’t give her an answer. When she turned and walked out of the room without another word, Miri knew she’d won.

—

AT
8:30
SATURDAY MORNING
, Mr. Roman of Mr. Roman’s House of Beauty, on Elmora Avenue, circled Miri, who sat in his chair. She was about to splurge on an Elizabeth Taylor cut, shampoo and set. Rusty, a big believer in long hair, would kill her if she knew. When Rusty caught her leaving the house so early, Miri had her excuse ready. “I’m going to the library,” she’d said.

“Be careful,” Rusty told her.

Did that mean don’t let any planes crash into you? Did it mean don’t let the aliens turn you into a zombie? Or did it mean look both ways before you cross the street and don’t talk to strangers?

Mr. Roman’s House of Beauty was already busy, with two women under the dryers, two more getting shampooed, and a second hair-cutter at work. The manicurist was polishing the nails of a lady Miri thought she recognized from the junior department at Levy Brothers.

Mr. Roman held up sections of Miri’s hair. “Nice,” he said. “Some natural wave, but you’ll have to set the new cut in pin curls at night. Are you sure about this?” He was making Miri nervous. Was he trying to talk her out of cutting her hair? “Because once I start,” he said, “there’s no turning back.”

“But how do you think it will look?” Miri asked, hoping for reassurance.

He kissed the tips of his fingers.
“Fabuloso.”

Was that an Italian word? If so, did it mean what it sounded like? Either way, the decision was made. Mr. Roman picked up his scissors
and,
snip snip snip
, the process began. Was she making a big mistake or would she leave the shop looking like Elizabeth Taylor in
A Place in the Sun
?