Saving Ruth (25 page)

“It's true, Wass,” said Jill. “Beyond the skinny stuff, you're just kind of like a different person.”

“But I'm not! I'm the same Wass. Why would you think that?”

“You are, but you're not, you know?” said M.K. “You're still funny and a smart-ass and stuff, but you're also a lot quieter than you used to be. You never call us. We always have to track you down.”

“I have a job! Four of them, actually. And a lot of stuff has gone down this summer.”

“Four?” asked Jill.

“Yeah, besides lifeguarding and swim team, I work out with this sweet chubby girl from the neighborhood, and I started giving swim lessons to Tanisha.”

“The little black girl you saved?” asked M.K.

“Yeah.”

“Wow, that's a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, we're getting a little off track here,” interrupted Jill. “M.K., please? Let's focus.” M.K. nodded. “Anyway, Ruth, we don't know what it is—if it's your eating thing or the fact that you go to school so far away, or what, but we both feel like you're private now to the point of being absent.”

“Really?” I watched the water, thinking about all of the things I hadn't shared with them since I'd been home. There were too many to count. They were right.

“What are you thinkin' about?” asked Jill.

“Yeah, see this is exactly what you do. You retreat to some other planet all the time now. It's sort of eerie,” said M.K. “Where are you?”

“I'm right here,” I answered. “I guess I didn't realize that I was pushin' y'all away. I'm really sorry.” I reached over and grabbed their hands. “I mean, to be honest, I have changed. I go to school a million miles away from here. The South is its own microcosm, you know?”

“So how come you can't tell us about how Michigan is different?” asked Jill.

“I guess because I didn't think you'd care. You'd think I was being pretentious or something.”

“Wass, if we thought you were being pretentious, we'd tell you,” said M.K.

“And we didn't even know that you were Richard Simmons-ing some chubby kid. Or about Tanisha. What's going on with that, anyway?” asked Jill.

“And the David rumor, what's happening with that?” asked M.K.

“What David rumor?” asked Jill.

I took a deep breath. There was so much to cover. “All right, you asked for it. But all talking from here on out must be done from a reclining position,” I announced. “We're gonna be here a while.”

27

I
grimaced as I poked my red chest with my finger, leaving a blinding white dot in its wake.

“Sunscreen much?” asked David, appearing in the bathroom mirror behind me.

“I'm officially an asshole,” I replied. “I thought I didn't need any at the beach since I'm in the sun every day.”

“Think again.”

“You need to get in here?” I asked.

“No, just seein' what you were up to.”

“I was at the beach with the girls all day. You worked tonight?”

“Yeah, got off a little while ago. You were with M.K. and Jill?”

“Yeah.” I walked to my bedroom, and he followed. I flopped on the bed. “Ow, that hurt.”

“How are they doing?”

“The same as always, I guess.”

“M.K. still going out with that meathead?”

“Yeah.”

He sat down on the bed, and I scooted back against the wall, diagonal from him. “Listen,” he said, “I wanted to say I was sorry about how I reacted to the Tanisha thing this morning. That was pretty stupid of me.”

“Why did you react that way?”

“I guess seeing her reminded me of what happened, you know? And I've been trying to forget it. Move on from it.”

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that.” I flexed my fingers. I could either push for his confession yet again and ruin this moment or let the conversation unfold organically. I decided to shoot for the latter.

“I think about it all the time.” He bit his lip. “I really fucked up.” I stayed as still as possible, as though the slightest movement would throw our whole conversation off course.

“I want to tell you something.”

“Okay,” I answered.

“I was high. You were right.” I sat perfectly still. “I wasn't, like, out of my mind or anything, but I definitely wasn't 100 percent up there.” I nodded. “But she was in my blind spot,” he added. “She really was.”

“I know. I'm glad you told me.” I sighed deeply. “What made you want to come clean?”

“Wow, ‘come clean,' Ruth? Really? We're on
Law and Order
now?”

“Sorry! How else would you say it?”

“No, I guess that's not such a bad way to phrase it, considering I had been lying about it. Our conversation the other day, around the table?”

“You're really asking me if I remember it? How could I forget?”

“Right. Well, that conversation just sort of cracked me open. You admit to one lie, and suddenly all of them fall.”

“Like dominoes. One lie leads to another lie, leads to another lie, leads to—”

“Yeah, exactly like that. I really was watching the pool that day, I swear, but there was a small part of my brain that was sort of numb. And maybe that numbness affected my reflex time.”

“David, it was your blind spot. That part isn't a lie. You being sober wouldn't have changed that.”

“No, I know. But maybe I would have seen her wander toward the deep end or something if I'd been all there.” He sighed. “I mean, who knows. If it hadn't rained, if I hadn't smoked, if the Kiddy Kare hadn't come that day. All these ifs.”

“Right.” I nodded. “I'm not sure I think the situation would have unfolded any differently if you were sober. For me, the issue was more about the fact that you were lying. I just found it so out of character for you. Of course, now, knowing what I know about school and all of that, it makes sense. You'd become so used to lying that it must have been second nature, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I'm not exactly innocent either.”

“How so? You were shooting heroin in the snack bar?”

“Very funny. All of this has been pretty complicated for me.”

“With your eating stuff?”

“No, not at all. More with us as brother and sister stuff. There was definitely part of me that was relishing my new role.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, you've always been the golden child. I haven't. And rescuing Tanisha kind of catapulted me into a position that I wasn't even sure was available to be filled, ya know? Something was off with you, but I wasn't sure what. And instead of pressing you to come clean—sorry, I said it again—I was more than happy to push the throne out from under you.”

“Yeah, but you can't really blame yourself for that, Ruth. You did an amazing thing, saving Tanisha. If that's not throne-worthy, I don't know what is. And shit, I don't want that throne anymore. I really don't.” He lay back on the bed. “That's part of the reason for my depression, I think. This pressure to be some sort of king. It's like you can't change if you're already locked into people's perception of you. Good grades, check. Soccer star, check. Finance major, check.”

“But what if all you care about is people's perception of you?” I asked. “That's what my weight is about, really. Being obsessed with how other people see me.”

“I guess we lock ourselves in without really knowing it. I mean, we could easily blame Mom and Dad for these detours, right? Oh, Dad pissed all over my art dreams, so it's his fault. Or Mom told you not to have that second piece of pizza when you were eleven, so this is all her fault. I don't want to do that, though. It seems so lazy to me.”

“Yeah, these are our decisions to own, I guess. I'm sure they probably blame themselves enough as it is, anyway.”

“Can you believe that they're looking into couples therapy?” he asked. “That's pretty crazy, right?”

“It is. I'm proud of them, though. It can't be easy.”

“No, I'm sure it's not. Hey,” he added, “I'm sorry I've been giving you such a hard time about Chris.”

“It's okay. I can understand why it's weird for you. It's certainly weird for me. He misses you, you know.”

“I'm gonna give him a call soon.” He rubbed his eyes.

“David, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you really mean what you said that time about Jews having it as hard as blacks here?”

“Nah. Once it was out of my mouth, I realized I was out of line. On the other hand, it's not like our situation is so different in terms of the ignorance of other people.”

“Yeah, but we can hide. The color of our skin doesn't dictate how we're treated. If we move into a neighborhood, all of the Christians don't want to move out immediately.”

“How do you know?” He sat up. “You don't. That's all I'm saying, really.” He yawned. “Has Kevin said anything stupid lately?”

“No, he gave me a half-ass apology.”

“Shouldn't be you he's apologizing to, huh?”

I shrugged my shoulders, yawning now too.

“Hey, you wanna go see something?” he whispered.

My eyes widened. “Is it a body?”

“No, it's the mural.”

“It's done? This early?”

“Not done, but close. You wanna see?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Okay, I'll drive. Let's go.” He jumped off the bed excitedly. “You gotta get rid of these closet doors, man,” he said, glancing at his reflection. “No one needs to see this many angles of themselves.” He stopped to flex. “On second thought—”

“Get out of here!” I yelled, laughing. I stood up and slipped my feet into my flops. He waited for me in the doorway like an anxious puppy. “Geez, you're, like, out the door already.”

“C'mon!” He led the way down the hall and through the family room—past Mom and Dad on the couch.

“Where are you two going?” asked Dad, muting the television.

“Just to the pool. David wants to show me something real quick.” Dad raised his eyebrows. Mom lay propped up on the other end of the couch, her feet in his lap. “All right, be careful.”

We continued out the door and climbed into his car in a heated rush of anticipation. “It's almost like you've never seen it either!” I said. “You're acting more excited than I am.”

He smiled. “Painting is really the first thing that's felt good to me in a long time. Well, that's not entirely true. Coaching feels good too.”

“Yeah, I'm gonna miss it.” I stuck my hand out the window as we descended the hill to the pool. “I think this is probably my last summer here.”

“Really?”

“Mm hmm.” It felt so final, but I knew that it was true. I couldn't imagine summer anywhere else, but that seemed to be the point.

“I don't want to think that far ahead,” said David.

“We don't have to.” We crunched through the gravel and came to a stop. The pool sat below us, still and serene. “It's so quiet,” I whispered.

“I know. It's soothing to be up here when no one else is around.” We got out, and David opened the locked gate. “You ever been here alone at night?”

“No.” We ran down the hill, giddy. “So how do you paint here? The light is so bad.”

“Jason has a floodlight he's letting me borrow.”

“Who has a floodlight just lying around?”

“Jason.”

I laughed. “Right. Of course.”

He positioned the light in front of the wall and stood up, exhaling sharply. “I'm sort of nervous,” he confessed.

“Don't be. You're really talented.”

“How do you know? You haven't seen my stuff in years.”

“Well, that is true. But still, I have faith.”

“Now, it's not done or anything, you know. I'm definitely still thinking stuff through—”

“David, shhhhh. Just show me.” I was nervous too now. What if it was terrible? This was my brother. He would know if I was faking.

“All right, here we go.” He switched on the floodlight, turning night into day. Corner by corner, he untaped the tarp. I stepped closer to get a better look.

He had turned the wall into a hybrid of water and sky. Blue, green, gray, and white swirled together to capture the mirror that nature created. Bubbles floated lazily around the outlines of a boy and a girl, who were reaching up to touch the surface.

“Wow, David. I thought you were just going to do some sort of cartoony mascot thing or something.” I reached out to touch it, but drew my hand back, remembering that the paint could be wet.

“You really thought I would do something that lame?” He sounded hurt. I looked over at him.

“No. I don't know why I said that. I knew you'd be working on something special, but this—this is beautiful.”

“It's not even halfway done. I need to fill in the bodies, obviously, and add a lot of shading to the water.”

“It looks so real,” I said. “I love that feeling—when you're underwater looking up, and you can't tell where it ends and the sky begins.” I stepped back to take it all in. “The sense of peace you feel from that level—it's so unique.”

“Yeah. Like you're safe.”

“How'd you capture it on a wall? You must have been out here for hours.”

“Well, I pretty much have been. I mean, think about it. Whenever I claimed to be at soccer practice, I was here. I took a lot of shots with this underwater camera I bought.” He was standing right beside me. “I did a lot of floating around underwater in goggles too. That peace you were talking about—I love it too.”

“Well, it's here somehow, on this wall. You've really done a great job.”

“Really? You think?”

“David, of course. It's fantastic.”

“Thanks, Ruth.” We stood in silence for a minute. “You know the girl and boy?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“That's us. When we were little.”

“What do you mean, that's us?”

“Look!” I moved closer to the outlines. Without paint, they looked like floating ghosts. “See, there's that watch you always wore.”

“Oh wow, I had forgotten about that. I got that for my ninth birthday. It was purple. I never took it off.”

“Yep. And if you look at the boy, you can sort of see that his bathing suit is that striped one I used to always wear.”

“Yes! I see it. You wore it every single day.” I laughed, remembering. “And you refused to let Mom wash it.” I moved closer to the wall. “And there's that silly friendship bracelet I used to wear around my ankle!” I looked at him. “You remember that?”

“Of course. That's all you, M.K., and Jill did—braid those things morning, noon, and night. Your room was like a Bolivian clothing factory or something.”

“It was! I remember.”

“I mean, they're not going to have our faces or anything.” He reached out to brush a fluttering moth off of the boy's leg.

“Well, no, that would be weird.”

“Can you imagine?” he laughed. “And now, I'd like to unveil my mural—”

“Of myself,” I finished.

“But we'll know it's us.”

“We will.” I stepped back and took his hand shyly. “Thanks, David. For making me a part of this. It's a beautiful mural.”

“You're welcome.” He squeezed my hand. “You're always a part of this.” He pointed to himself with his other hand. “Of me.”

“You too,” I whispered, squeezing back.