Towelhead (30 page)

We went back to watching TV again. During one of the commercials, Melina said, “Go to the upstairs bathroom and get me the brush in the left-hand drawer of the sink cabinet.”

I nodded, then went upstairs and got the brush. When I came back, Melina took it from me, then patted the spot beside her on the couch. She started brushing the back of my hair first, followed by the sides. “Good Lord, you have a lot of hair,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said, since I could tell she meant it as a compliment.

“Doesn't she have a lot of hair, Gil?”

It embarrassed me that she was forcing him to say something about how I looked, but he didn't seem to mind. He just agreed that I did without really looking up from his stock papers.

After that, I started to enjoy having my hair brushed a lot more. It made my scalp tingle and get so goose-pimply that I was sure Melina could probably feel the bumps under her brush and was just being polite not to tease me about them. It reminded me of how nice it had felt when Barry used to shave me, except it was even better since we didn't have to keep it a secret.

At around ten, Melina said it was her bedtime and that I should probably get some sleep, too. We said good night to Gil, then went upstairs. I took my backpack in the bathroom to change and wash up, and when I looked down, I saw that the big orange Syracuse T-shirt my mother had given me for Christmas didn't totally cover the purple bruise on my leg. I wasn't sure if I should try to stretch the T-shirt down or just let Melina see it.

“You okay in there?” she asked, knocking lightly on the door.

“Yes.”

“Well, come on out and try this bed. See if you can stand it.”

“All right,” I said, pulling down on my shirt a little. I opened the door and stepped out.

“Jesus Christ,” Melina said, her eyes going to where my hands were tugging the shirt. She reached out and took my wrist so I would let go. The shirt sprang back up.

“Daddy was mad about the magazine,” I said.

“Uh-huh,” she said. I liked how she seemed angry, but not at me. “Can I get a picture of that?” she asked.

“My leg?”

“I just think it's a good idea.”

“Okay,” I said, even though it made me nervous.

“I'll be right back,” she said, and I watched her waddle down the hall.

I went in Gil's study then and got in my bed. I could see what Melina meant when she worried that it might not be comfortable. There was a bar that ran across the middle, just under my back. It wasn't too bad, though, especially since I didn't sleep on my back.

Melina came back with a Polaroid camera. “How's the bed?” she asked.

“Good.”

“You don't mind that bar?”

I shook my head.

“Well,” she said, “we'll see how you feel in the morning.”

I nodded, even though no matter how I felt in the morning, I planned to tell her that the bed had been comfortable.

“Hop out for a second so I can take a couple pictures.”

I pulled back the covers, got up, and stood beside the bed. The first picture Melina took was a picture of all of me. Then she came in closer and took one of just the bruise. After each picture shot out of the camera, she caught it in between her fingers. Now she started waving them lightly through the air. “Is there anything else I should take a picture of?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Good.”

I got back in bed and covered myself up again. I noticed the pictures starting to come clear as Melina waved them. “Can I see them?” I asked.

“Why would you want to see them? You've got the real thing right in front of you.”

“I just want to see.”

She gave them to me, and as I held them, they seemed to come into focus even more. “It looks like a jellyfish,” I said.

“Well,” Melina said, taking the pictures back, “it's not a jellyfish.”

“Thank you for helping me,” I said.

“You're welcome.” She leaned down and kissed me, then turned the light off and shut the door behind her. After she left, I thought about the pictures. I thought about her showing them to Daddy, and his knowing that she knew about our life together. It was a nice thing to think about in a way, but then, in another way, I understood that the more things I didn't keep secret, the angrier Daddy was going to be when I finally had to go home.

 

Melina took me to school on Monday morning, since I was worried that Daddy would try to get me at the bus stop. She said she'd pick me up and take me home, too. Then she handed me a bag with a lunch she'd packed. No one had ever really done that for me before. With my mother I had packed my own, and with Daddy I bought.

In study hall, Denise passed me a note asking why I was wearing the same outfit from last Saturday. I wrote back saying that I liked this outfit. At lunch Thomas asked where I had gotten the freaky lunch. “It's not freaky,” I said.

“Who eats a lamb sandwich?” he wanted to know. Since I had said I liked Gil's dinner so much, Melina had given me the leftovers. I lied, though, and told Thomas that Daddy had made me eat the lamb so it wouldn't go to waste.

After school, Melina arrived in her little Toyota with the seat pushed back all the way to fit her stomach. “How was school?” she asked when I got in the car.

“Good.”

She waited for me to get my seat belt on before she started driving, which I thought was nice. Daddy always started driving as soon as he had his own belt on, even if mine wasn't on yet. It always made me feel like he hoped we would get in an accident before I could buckle up.

Melina sang along with the radio as she drove. She had a really nice voice, like a professional singer, and I liked how she wasn't shy to let me hear it. When the song ended, I asked her what she had done while I was at school. “Well,” she said, “I ended up sleeping a lot. I was kind of tired.”

“Oh.”

“Yesterday was maybe more excitement than I'm used to.”

“I'm sorry,” I said.

“For what?” She downshifted as we approached a red light. “What are you sorry for?”

“For giving you too much excitement.”

She shook her head. “It had nothing to do with you. You didn't do anything.”

“Okay,” I said, even though I couldn't see how it didn't have anything to do with me.

When we got to our development, Melina asked if I had my house key. I said yes, and she suggested that maybe we should go to Daddy's to get some of my things—clothes and stuff. “Okay,” I said.

We parked in her driveway, then walked over to my house. Melina had never been all the way inside, so I gave her a quick tour. In the kitchen, I was surprised to find Daddy's dirty dinner dishes from the night before still in the sink. In his room, the bed was unmade.

In my bedroom, Melina said, “He couldn't be bothered to decorate this place for you?” She had really worked on Dorrie's room, painting it yellow, hanging pictures, sewing little pillows with felt appliqués of a giraffe, an elephant, and a lion.

I shrugged.

“Anyway,” she said, “let's pack your stuff.”

We had gotten a plastic garbage bag from the kitchen, and now I started putting clothes from my dresser drawers inside it. At first I only put in a few things, but then Melina said, “What's the matter? Don't you like staying with Gil and me?” and she reached in and grabbed more clothes. Next I went to my closet and got some things from there—sweaters, pants, blouses, and shoes. There wasn't really much more to take except for a couple of schoolbooks on my dresser. “All set?” Melina asked, and I nodded.

As we passed back through the kitchen, I stopped in front of the refrigerator. Snowball was still in our freezer. Daddy hadn't mentioned her since the night we'd wrapped her up and I was beginning to think that maybe he couldn't stand to put her in the trash, either. Even so, I didn't feel right, leaving her behind. Part of me worried that he would get mad when he noticed all my clothes were gone and put her in the trash just to be mean. “What's the matter?” Melina asked.

“There's something I need to take from the freezer.”

“Sure,” she said. “Some food you like?”

I shook my head. “No. It's kind of gross.”

“What is it?”

“Snowball.”

“Snowball?”

“Zack's cat that he lost.”

“You mean it's dead?”

I nodded.

Melina looked at me. “Did you kill Zack's cat?”

“Sort of,” I told her, and I explained what had happened.

“I see,” she said.

“We were supposed to put her in the trash, but then Daddy kept forgetting. I don't want him to put her in the trash.”

Melina thought for a second. She said, “I have a lot of food in my freezer for when the baby comes, you know? I'm not sure I have room for a cat.”

“It's okay,” I said.

She sighed. “Let me see how big she is.”

I opened the freezer and pulled Snowball out.

“Well,” she said, “I guess she's not that big.”

“She's only a kitten,” I said.

“All right then,” Melina said, and she took Snowball and put her in the garbage bag on top of my clothes.

When we got back to Melina's, she made room for Snowball in the freezer, then we went upstairs to find a place for my clothes. Melina ended up clearing a couple of shelves for me in the linen closet, and we piled my things onto those. After we'd finished, she said she needed to lie down for a few minutes, but that I was free to go and watch TV or help myself to a snack or whatever. “Okay,” I said.

“I'll be out in a while,” she said, and I tried not to feel sad when she shut her bedroom door all the way.

I went downstairs in the living room and didn't do anything. Mostly I just concentrated on all the things that could happen once Daddy found out I'd taken my clothes and Snowball. None of them were good.

The phone rang at one point, and since it wasn't my house, I waited for the machine to get it. When the person came on, it was my mother. “Jasira? Are you there?” She paused for a second, then said, “This is a message for Jasira. I understand she's staying with you. I'm her mother, and I would like her to please call me so I can find out what's going on. Her father is very upset. Thank you.”

Suddenly this all felt like such a bad idea to me. The longer I stayed away from my real life, the worse it was going to be when I went back. And I just knew I would have to go back. No matter how nice and strong Gil and Melina were, they would get tired of all of this soon. Especially when Dorrie came. When Dorrie came, I wouldn't stand a chance.

I went in the kitchen and erased the phone message from my mother. I got the garbage bag Melina had folded up and put away, took it upstairs and loaded my clothes back into it, then went back down to the freezer to get Snowball. I let myself quietly out of the house and walked down the front steps. Just then, Gil pulled into the driveway. “Hey,” he said, getting out of his car. “Where you going?”

“Home.”

“Home?” he said. “Already? You sure you're up for it?”

I nodded.

“Does Melina know?”

“She's taking a nap,” I said. “I didn't want to bother her.”

Gil jingled his car keys lightly in his hand. He was wearing contact lenses and a suit today, with no burglar cap covering his sandy hair. “Did Melina tell you about her blood pressure?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said. “I think so.”

“Well,” he said, “the thing is, if she doesn't know you're going back home, and she wakes up and finds you gone, that could be very bad for her. She's not supposed to get too upset.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think as a favor to me you could go back in and at least wait until she wakes up?”

“Okay,” I said. “I'm sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he said, and he took the garbage bag out of my hand and carried it back inside for me.

 

When Melina woke up and came downstairs, she said, “What stinks?”

“I don't smell anything,” Gil said. He had loosened his tie and was sitting in the living room with me, reading the paper.

“It's like rot,” Melina said, making a face. The hair at the back of her head was sticking up so that you could see it from the front.

I realized then that I had forgotten to put Snowball back in the freezer. “It might be the cat,” I said.

“What cat?” Gil asked.

“Jasira has a dead cat that she froze,” Melina said. I could tell Gil wanted to ask more about it, but Melina cut him off and said, “I can't believe it's stinking all the way from the freezer.”