Oppression (4 page)

3.

THE NEXT MORNING I caught myself eyeing the only piece of paper stuck under a magnet on my fridge—Anna’s phone number. I had to tell somebody.

The first day of fifth grade was the day I met Anna, and it stood out in my mind like a beam of light cutting through the clouds. The schoolhouse was a two story red brick building that was much more intimidating than my years of school at home. It wasn’t the school that had me nervous though. I knew it would be fairly easy. It was finding and having friends that worried me.

Betsy took my hand without hesitating and led me through the front doors.

“Don’t be nervous, Ellie,” she comforted. The tension in my body radiated through the firm grip I had on her hand.

As we entered the school hall, the air smelled of wood and dust. I could tell the place was old. The numerous feet that had traveled the school’s single corridor had beaten the wood floors thin and uneven. Classroom doors lined the two parallel walls like rows of ready dominoes set to fall in on me at the first sign of a wrong move. What had I gotten myself into?

Ms. Kay’s 5
^th
Grade Class was indicated on a colorful sign taped over the window, and Betsy let me go in on my own. The classroom was bustling as I entered. Hardly anyone turned a head to look. There were nearly twenty kids running frantically around asking each other questions and scribbling their answers on paper.

“You must be Elyse,” Ms. Kay greeted me, and I responded with a timid “yes.”

I continued to watch the students running around in what seemed to be complete disorder. This was not how I imagined structured education.

“They’re playing multiplication bingo,” she began to explain.

“BINGO!” yelled a freckly redheaded boy, confirming the reason behind the chaos.

“All right, Benny, excellent. Everyone take your seats,” she addressed the class. “Elyse, you may sit wherever you like.”

Great. I was in the spotlight already. My heartbeat was so loud and hard I was sure everyone could hear the deafening thud, but the pressure was quickly relieved. A button-nosed girl with hair like black silk gestured for me to take the seat next to her.

“I’m Anna,” she whispered to me. “What’s your name?”

“Elyse,” I answered.

“Okay everyone, before we check Benny’s bingo card, let me introduce our new student.”

“Her name is Elyse,” the silky-haired girl interrupted.

“Yes, her name is Elyse. Everyone please make her feel at home, okay? Anna, why don’t you let Elyse look off of your bingo card while we go over the answers?”

“Okay,” she agreed scooting her desk so it was flush with mine. I saw her hand slip into her pocket. She passed me something in a closed fist and waited with a smile as I examined it.

“Don’t let Ms. Kay see,” she whispered. “It’s a secret.”

I slipped the wrapped candy into my pocket—the first of many secrets we would come to share.

From the moment her desk grazed the edge of mine, we were inseparable. Our friendship came naturally. Being with Anna was effortless, comfortable.

I was nobody but myself around her, and she was the same. There were no secrets, no secrets but one, and for the next three years, that secret was mine and mine alone.

Middle school was a vicious beast of cliques, bullies, and peer pressure, a monster that would have eaten me alive if not for Anna. Her gruff and forward personality countered my timid demeanor making us two perfect halves of a single entity.

The level of education was still a breeze, so school became a place to congregate, a place where we could join forces and slip into our own little world far away from the workings of junior high savagery. The summers, however, were boundless. How and where the days were spent didn’t matter, as long as they were spent together, but this happiness was two-faced. The more I grew to love Anna and need her, the more pain I would feel at the loss. With every second, the joy of friendship burrowed deeper, so that when the time came for it to end, I knew it would rip out my soul.

“Did you ever hear of blood sisters?” Anna asked from the bed. She was lying on her stomach flipping through our newly printed yearbook.

“No,” I told her. “What is it?”

“Just something April said at school.”

“Well what did she say?” I pressed from the floor of my room. I skipped to April’s class photo in my own yearbook. She was such a bully. She even looked the part.

“She said her and Susan should be able to get their picture taken together because they were sisters. Of course I told her ‘no you’re not,’ but she said they were blood sisters, because they put their cuts together and mixed the blood.”

I thought briefly about what Betsy would say, how the nurse in her would disapprove. “Elyse, that’s how people spread disease. Be safe.”

Anna must have taken my silence to mean that I too was contemplating the decision to make ourselves blood sisters.

“We’re more like sisters than they are. Susan doesn’t even like April that much. I think we should do it. Best friends for life, right?”

I froze. It
wasn’t
safe. Not because Anna wasn’t healthy, but because I wasn’t . . . normal. Would something happen to her? What if I made her sick? My condition was something I hadn’t considered in a long time. It had been so easy to push reality into the back of my head over the years, to pass off my growth-stunted body as being petite, small, or fragile, but here it was, staring me in the face. Anna wanted to test the biology of it all. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

“Here, I’ll pick this scab on my knee from yesterday. Do you have a scab or anything?”

“No. It’s okay though, we’ll do it later or something.”

“Oh come on, don’t be a baby. I know you have a blister on your hand from the monkey bars.”

She grabbed my right hand and pulled open the cracked skin without warning.

“Ouch! Are you crazy?” I yelled as I yanked my hand back to examine the damage.

“Hurry, before it dries,” she insisted.

Before I knew it she had my palm to her knee, rubbing the two sores together.

“There, see?” she asked looking for my approval, but I couldn’t respond. My eyes were locked on her face. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I was waiting for it to happen. Her expression could have meant anything—a blank stare somewhere between concern and amazement.

“What?” was all I could say.

“It’s gone.” She searched my eyes for answers.

“What’s gone?”

She took my hand and turned it over with a gasp, pulling the evidence close to her knee for comparison. Aside from the smeared blood, the skin on her knee was flawless. She licked her hand and wiped the surface clean just to be sure. Nothing. I ran my thumb over the skin of my palm, but not even a scar remained.

Betsy’s footsteps gave warning of her approach, so we hid our bloodstained skin and tried to look busy.

“Hey girls, how are you doing?” she asked from the doorway.

“Good,” we said in unison. She was too distracted to notice our robotic responses or the immense tension in the room.

“Good. Listen, Anna, I called your mom. She is on her way over to pick you up. I need a night alone with Ellie, okay? Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” she said reassuringly, and she turned to leave.

“Do you think she knows?” I asked worried.

“No,” Anna answered confidently.

I knew there was no hiding the fact that I had caused the healing. Anna knew me too well. She knew what I was thinking before I spoke.

“Look, I didn’t know that would happen . . .” I said, trying to find the words that would save my friendship, words that would make me look like less of a freak, but she stopped me.

“I won’t tell, Elyse,” she said with earnest eyes. “Ever.”

All these years later I was still sharing my secrets with Anna, and before I knew it, I was dialing her number.

“You think maybe I’m being conned?” I asked after telling her about my day.

“Maybe,” she answered, “but all he’s really roped you into is a date. He didn’t ask for money, right?”

“No. Neither did the girl, but he knew my name. They both did.”

“Elyse, you just moved in above the place he works. Of course he knows your name. The landlord is probably his boss.”

“What about the girl? How would she know?”

“She’s probably his crazy stalker ex-girlfriend.”

I thought about it. “I don’t know. He said
they
were following me. You know, my parents kept me in hiding for a reason.”

“I doubt they were hiding you from a young guy that works in a coffee shop,” she laughed. “I think you should go. You’re just coming up with excuses. I never understood why you were so opposed to dating.”

“You know why.”

She paused. “Well, you know I don’t agree with you.”

“What if the guy wanted to get married?”

“So you marry him.” Her voice spiked as though the answer was obvious.

“Eventually he would find out about my age,” I argued. “We wouldn’t be able to grow old together. What about kids? I don’t even know if I can have kids.”

“Why do you always have to play it out to the very end? Dating isn’t getting married, Elyse. What’s the harm in having fun?”

We’d had this conversation before, but Anna never let things go. Did she not understand the most obvious reason? What if I fell in love? What would happen when I outlived him? It would be more than heartbreaking to watch him grow old and die while he left me behind trapped in a time warp. It would destroy me. If there was even a chance, why risk it? I didn’t want to talk about death with Anna, though. I didn’t want to face the fact that I only had fifty years with her at most, and then I’d be alone. My heart felt heavy thinking about it.

“I’m not going,” I concluded.

4.

AS SOON AS I got off the phone with Anna, I changed my mind. She was right. Dating didn’t mean a lifetime commitment. Why not have fun? All morning I dwelled on the details of the night before, paying no attention to the logical warnings of my conscience.

When four o’clock rolled around, I let myself get ready. I took an extra long shower, shaving and shampooing twice, and as I blow-dried my flat hair, I realized I had never really had a reason to care about my appearance. I stared through the mirror into my chestnut eyes, trying to decide if I was pretty. Maybe I was. I could be if I tried.

I shouldn’t care, but I was excited, a little too excited. I shut off the drier before I’d finished and tried to think objectively, to ignore all the reasons that fueled my curiosity. Was it really worth it? What if this was a trick? And even if it wasn’t, what then? I couldn’t allow myself to fall in love with someone. I had always known that. True love was
not
in my destiny.

As I began to second guess my decision and think my way out of it, I heard a knock at the door. It was way too early for William to be here, and I wasn’t expecting anyone else. I sat on my bed and stayed quiet, hoping the person would think I wasn’t home. They knocked again, but I didn’t want to answer. This whole thing had made me so on-edge. I felt too vulnerable.

“Elyse?” The sound of William’s voice got me on my feet. I grabbed my robe and went to answer the door.

“Hi. Sorry. I didn’t know it was you,” I said, grateful that I had gotten those first words out before I had a good look at him. He was even more gorgeous than my memory had given him credit for, and I felt speechless in that moment. His skin, the color of caramel, his jaw, strong and defined, every piece of him invited my attention.

“Hey. I know I’m a little early, but I’ve just been waiting at home all day to take you out.”

“Okay,” I answered, still unsure. “Yeah, just let me throw something on.” I turned to head up the stairs, and realized I couldn’t just leave him out there. I turned back. “Come on up.”

I hadn’t really considered what I was going to wear. I thought I had up to two hours to figure that out. After deciding that the worn out jeans and faded t-shirts in my closet wouldn’t do, I began digging through old clothes I hadn’t unpacked yet.

“Sorry there’s no furniture,” I yelled from my room.

I settled on a summery floral dress that Betsy had gotten me for my eightieth birthday. My hair still hung damp and limp, and the only shoes that matched were the black flip-flop sandals I’d been wearing every day.

When I got up the courage to reenter the living room, I found William making himself comfortable on my makeshift blanket couch.

“You look great,” he said with raised eyebrows.

“Thanks,” I mumbled back. I felt a little self-conscious in a dress, but I had to admit I liked the attention. I liked it too much. “So how is this going to work?” I grabbed my shoulder bag, reminding myself that I was doing this for a reason. “Are you going to tell me what you know?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” He laughed to himself. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, once the date is over.”

“Why not tonight?”

He shook his head. “It’ll ruin it.”

“All right.” I accepted too easily. At least it would mean another reason to see him again. “Where are we going?”

“I was thinking we could see
Annie Hall
. There’s a theater downtown that plays older films.”

“I love that movie,” I beamed, forgetting all the doubts and worries I had seconds before. “I saw it the day it came out.” I stopped, catching my careless words as they fell out of my clumsy mouth.

“In 1977?” he asked, bright eyed and casually.

“I mean, on DVD,” I corrected. I laughed my nervous laugh. Ten minutes into this and I was already acting like a complete idiot and letting things slip.

“Well, I thought you might like it.”

“You did?” I sounded too pleased. He’d been thinking about me, thinking about what I might like. Obviously any attempt to be indifferent toward him was hopeless.

“Yeah, you seem like the hopeless romantic type. Am I right?”

He sure had the hopeless part right, and as for romance, yes I suppose that was hopeless too.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” No need to go into detail about my romantic hopelessness, right?

“I like your little nest of blankets,” he chimed. “Maybe you should go into interior design.”

I smiled. He was good at breaking the ice.

“Shut up,” I shot back playfully. I was surprised at how easy it was to be myself around him. Despite the obvious paralyzing affect he seemed to have on me, I felt I could say what I pleased and act how I wanted and that was just fine with him. He was easygoing and calm in his demeanor, confident and unafraid of his surroundings. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle a whole night alone with him, but things seemed to be going smoothly.

“What kind of music do you like?” he asked once we were in his car. “I’ve got all kinds.”

“Um, I don’t know.” I wasn’t really familiar with what everyone was listening to these days. Betsy and I listened to a lot of the music from the forties—Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby. I thought about asking if he had any of them, just to test his claim that he had all kinds, but I kept quiet.

“How about . . .” he paused as he flipped through one of his several books of CDs, “Foo Fighters?”

“Sure,” I agreed, nodding my head at the unfamiliar name.

“Have you ever heard of them?” he asked.

“No.”

He glanced up at me and smiled wide before brushing his long hair back with his hand.

“Wow,” he said as he slipped the CD in. “You really have been sheltered.”

The theater was old and rundown.
Rocky Horror Picture Show
flyers were tacked to the vintage ticket booth. William paid our admission without question, even though I offered to pay for my own. We decided not to stop and get snacks at the neglected concession stand to save room for dinner. The theater only had one projector screen in a room that seated nearly forty, so I expected to see at least some people, but the place was empty. The walls were wooden with carved patterns of angels and peeling white paint. It had a musky smell and a dingy look that only added to its authenticity. It looked like it might have been an actual acting theater in its prime.

“I used to come here a lot,” William said. “It’s been sort of neglected, but it was a really beautiful place once.”

“How do you find these kinds of secret places?” I asked.

“People with secrets need places to keep them.”

I stared into him, like maybe if I looked hard enough I’d be able to figure things out on my own. “I wish you would just tell me what’s going on.”

“I told you I’d tell you everything, but you still owe me half a date.”

The lights went down almost as soon as we took our seats even though we were still the only two in the theater. Since it was just us, we could have talked, but we didn’t. I wasn’t sure where William’s mind was, but mine was all over the place. In between playbacks of our night in the library, my thoughts picked up on the feel of his arm against my own or how his knee seemed to drift toward the bare skin of mine. Although my eyes stared in the direction of the movie screen, they were not watching.

“This is my favorite scene,” he whispered into my ear. We were alone, so there was no need for the intimacy, but I liked it.

The whole experience seemed to flicker by in a matter of seconds, and I wished I could bargain with time for just a few more precious minutes. When the credits began to roll, I was reluctant to leave such close proximity—closeness that made my skin tingle. I waited until the very last words left the screen before I dared break away from it.

“Hungry?” he asked.

Jose’s Mexican Food was written in red letters on the front of the building. A sombrero hung off the hook of the ‘J’ and a set of maracas was painted on the end. The place had character, making me think it probably wasn’t a chain restaurant. It had simple brown stucco, a red roof and Spanish tiles. Inside, the walls were painted pastel green and pink, and the Mexican flag hung proudly in the entryway.

“Do you want a margarita or something?” he asked me after we seated ourselves in the corner booth.

“Not twenty-one yet.”

“Right,” he answered with a chuckle. “Me either.”

“Hey kids,” said a heavyset Mexican woman greeting us. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Just some waters. Is that okay?” he asked me.

“Yeah, water is fine.” I’d probably drink straight cod liver oil just to sit next to him.

“All right. Here’s some menu’s. I’ll be back,” the waitress said, excusing herself.

“So what do you do for fun when you’re not being forced to go on dates?”

I laughed. “Yeah, because that happens every day.” I practiced looking away from him, something I found extraordinarily hard to do. “I don’t know. I like to write poetry, do crosswords, boring stuff.”

“Sounds like you need to get out.”

I shrugged. “Well, what about you? What’s your idea of fun?”

“A night out with the one and only Miss Elyse Ellen Adler, of course.”

I looked away again. He knew my full name. I hadn’t expected that. My gaze stayed down, but I noticed how his eyes tended to fall intently on me when he thought my attention was elsewhere. Luckily our waitress came back fairly quickly with our drinks and flipped open her note pad.

“Okay, here’s some chips and salsa with two waters. You ready to order?”

William nodded for me to go first.

“The grilled chicken burrito for me,” I answered.

“And some carne asada tacos,” he added.

“All right. Let me take these,” she said picking up our menus.

As soon as she left, William started back up with the questions. I liked his questions. As pathetic as it was, it made me feel like he really was interested in me, and I let myself indulge in the feeling, something I might never feel again.

“Have you noticed anyone else following you? Any new friends since you’ve moved here?”

“Aside from Kara? No, and as new friends go, you’re pretty much the first,” I answered truthfully.

“Good.”

As long as we were asking questions, I had one for him.

“How did you know my name?” I asked.

“I’ve always known it.”

I grabbed a chip and began nibbling nervously.

“How? Do you work for the government or something?” The question sounded ridiculous. He was too young, too casual to be anyone official.

“Oh yeah. I’m a super spy,” he said with a straight face. Then his expression cracked. “No, I don’t work for the government, but you’re right to be cautious. You shouldn’t be so trusting of people.”

“Of you?”

“Luckily, I’m the one person you can trust.”

I found myself immensely curious about him.

“I’m just glad I found you first.” He took a drink of water, staring at me over the brim.

“Here we go. A grilled chicken burrito and carne asada tacos,” our waitress announced, breaking the intense moment. “Anything else I can get for you?”

“No, I think that’s it,” William answered.