Wonder (22 page)

“She really is the greatest dog in the world,” said Via.

“I know,” said Justin, rubbing Via’s back.

“She just started whimpering, like all of a sudden?” I said.

Via nodded. “Like two seconds after you left the table,” she said. “Mom was going to go after you, but Daisy just started, like, whimpering.”

“Like how?” I said.

“Just whimpering, I don’t know,” said Via.

“Like howling?” I asked.

“Auggie, like whimpering!” she answered impatiently. “She just started moaning, like something was really hurting her. And she was panting like crazy. Then she just kind of plopped down, and Mom went over and tried to pick her up, and whatever, she was obviously hurting. She bit Mom.”

“What?” I said.

“When Mom tried to touch her stomach, Daisy bit her hand,” Via explained.

“Daisy never bites anybody!” I answered.

“She wasn’t herself,” said Justin. “She was obviously in pain.”

“Daddy was right,” said Via. “We shouldn’t have let her get this bad.”

“What do you mean?” I said. “He knew she was sick?”

“Auggie, Mom’s taken her to the vet like three times in the last two months. She’s been throwing up left and right. Haven’t you noticed?”

“But I didn’t know she was sick!”

Via didn’t say anything, but she put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to her. I started to cry again.

“I’m sorry, Auggie,” she said softly. “I’m really sorry about everything, okay? You forgive me? You know how much I love you, right?”

I nodded. Somehow that fight didn’t matter much now.

“Was Mommy bleeding?” I asked.

“It was just a nip,” said Via. “Right there.” She pointed to the bottom of her thumb to show me exactly where Daisy had bitten Mom.

“Did it hurt her?”

“Mommy’s okay, Auggie. She’s fine.”

Mom and Dad came home two hours later. We knew the second they opened the door and Daisy wasn’t with them that Daisy was gone. We all sat down in the living room around the pile of Daisy’s toys. Dad told us what happened at the animal hospital, how the vet took Daisy for some X-rays and blood tests, then came back and told them she had a huge mass in her stomach. She was having trouble breathing. Mom and Dad didn’t want her to suffer, so Daddy picked her up in his arms like he always liked to do, with her legs straight up in the air, and he and Mom kissed her goodbye over and over again and whispered to her while the vet put a needle into her leg. And then after about a minute she died in Daddy’s arms. It was so peaceful, Daddy said. She wasn’t in any pain at all. Like she was just going to sleep. A couple of times while he talked, Dad’s voice got trembly and he cleared his throat.

I’ve never seen Dad cry before, but I saw him cry tonight. I had gone into Mom and Dad’s bedroom looking for Mom to put me to bed, but saw Dad sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his socks. His back was to the door, so he didn’t know I was there. At first I thought he was laughing because his shoulders were shaking, but then he put his palms on his eyes and I realized he was crying. It was the quietest crying I’ve ever heard. Like a whisper. I was going to go over to him, but then I thought maybe he was whisper-crying because he didn’t want me or anyone else to hear him. So I walked out and went to Via’s room, and I saw Mom lying next to Via on the bed, and Mom was whispering to Via, who was crying.

So I went to my bed and put on my pajamas without anyone telling me to and put the night-light on and turned the light off and crawled into the little mountain of stuffed animals I had left on my bed earlier. It felt like that all had happened a million years ago. I took my hearing aids off and put them on the night table and pulled the covers up to my ears and imagined Daisy snuggling with me, her big wet tongue licking my face all over like it was her favorite face in the world. And that’s how I fell asleep.

I woke up later on and it was still dark. I got out of bed and walked into Mom and Dad’s bedroom.

“Mommy?” I whispered. It was completely dark, so I couldn’t see her open her eyes. “Mommy?”

“You okay, honey?” she said groggily.

“Can I sleep with you?”

Mom scooted over toward Daddy’s side of the bed, and I snuggled up next to her. She kissed my hair.

“Is your hand okay?” I said. “Via told me Daisy bit you.”

“It was only a nip,” she whispered in my ear.

“Mommy …” I started crying. “I’m sorry about what I said.”

“Shhh … There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she said, so quietly I could barely hear her. She was rubbing the side of her face against my face.

“Is Via ashamed of me?” I said.

“No, honey, no. You know she’s not. She’s just adjusting to a new school. It’s not easy.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.”

“I’m sorry I called you a liar.”

“Go to sleep, sweet boy.… I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too, Mommy.”

“Good night, honey,” she said very softly.

“Mommy, is Daisy with Grans now?”

“I think so.”

“Are they in heaven?”

“Yes.”

“Do people look the same when they get to heaven?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Then how do people recognize each other?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.” She sounded tired. “They just feel it. You don’t need your eyes to love, right? You just feel it inside you. That’s how it is in heaven. It’s just love, and no one forgets who they love.”

She kissed me again.

“Now go to sleep, honey. It’s late. And I’m so tired.”

But I couldn’t go to sleep, even after I knew she had fallen asleep. I could hear Daddy sleeping, too, and I imagined I could hear Via sleeping down the hallway in her room. And I wondered if Daisy was sleeping in heaven right then. And if she was sleeping, was she dreaming about me? And I wondered how it would feel to be in heaven someday and not have my face matter anymore. Just like it never, ever mattered to Daisy.

Via brought home three tickets to her school play a few days after Daisy died. We never mentioned the fight we had over dinner again. On the night of the play, right before she and Justin were leaving to get to their school early, she gave me a big hug and told me she loved me and she was proud to be my sister.

This was my first time in Via’s new school. It was much bigger than her old school, and a thousand times bigger than my school. More hallways. More room for people. The only really bad thing about my bionic Lobot hearing aids was the fact that I couldn’t wear a baseball cap anymore. In situations like these, baseball caps come in really handy. Sometimes I wish I could still get away with wearing that old astronaut helmet I used to wear when I was little. Believe it or not, people would think seeing a kid in an astronaut helmet was a lot less weird than seeing my face. Anyway, I kept my head down as I walked right behind Mom through the long bright hallways.

We followed the crowd to the auditorium, where students handed out programs at the front entrance. We found seats in the fifth row, close to the middle. As soon as we sat down, Mom started looking inside her pocketbook.

“I can’t believe I forgot my glasses!” she said.

Dad shook his head. Mom was always forgetting her glasses, or her keys, or something or other. She is flaky that way.

“You want to move closer?” said Dad.

Mom squinted at the stage. “No, I can see okay.”

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” said Dad.

“I’m fine,” answered Mom.

“Look, there’s Justin,” I said to Dad, pointing out Justin’s picture in the program.

“That’s a nice picture of him,” he answered, nodding.

“How come there’s no picture of Via?” I said.

“She’s an understudy,” said Mom. “But, look: here’s her name.”

“Why do they call her an understudy?” I asked.

“Wow, look at Miranda’s picture,” said Mom to Dad. “I don’t think I would have recognized her.”

“Why do they call it understudy?” I repeated.

“It’s what they call someone who replaces an actor if he can’t perform for some reason,” answered Mom.

“Did you hear Martin’s getting remarried?” Dad said to Mom.

“Are you kidding me?!” Mom answered, like she was surprised.

“Who’s Martin?” I asked.

“Miranda’s father,” Mom answered, and then to Dad: “Who told you?”

“I ran into Miranda’s mother in the subway. She’s not happy about it. He has a new baby on the way and everything.”

“Wow,” said Mom, shaking her head.

“What are you guys talking about?” I said.

“Nothing,” answered Dad.

“But why do they call it understudy?” I said.

“I don’t know, Auggie Doggie,” Dad answered. “Maybe because the actors kind of study under the main actors or something? I really don’t know.”

I was going to say something else but then the lights went down. The audience got very quiet very quickly.

“Daddy, can you please not call me Auggie Doggie anymore?” I whispered in Dad’s ear.

Dad smiled and nodded and gave me a thumbs-up.

The play started. The curtain opened. The stage was completely empty except for Justin, who was sitting on an old rickety chair tuning his fiddle. He was wearing an old-fashioned type of suit and a straw hat.

“This play is called ‘Our Town,’ ” he said to the audience. “It was written by Thornton Wilder; produced and directed by Philip Davenport.… The name of the town is Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire—just across the Massachusetts line: latitude 42 degrees 40 minutes; longitude 70 degrees 37 minutes. The First Act shows a day in our town. The day is May 7, 1901. The time is just before dawn.”

I knew right then and there that I was going to like the play. It wasn’t like other school plays I’ve been to, like
The Wizard of Oz
or
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
. No, this was grown-up seeming, and I felt smart sitting there watching it.

A little later in the play, a character named Mrs. Webb calls out for her daughter, Emily. I knew from the program that that was the part Miranda was playing, so I leaned forward to get a better look at her.

“That’s Miranda,” Mom whispered to me, squinting at the stage when Emily walked out. “She looks so different.…”

“It’s not Miranda,” I whispered. “It’s Via.”

“Oh my God!” said Mom, lurching forward in her seat.

“Shh!” said Dad.

“It’s Via,” Mom whispered to him.

“I know,” whispered Dad, smiling. “Shhh!”

The play was so amazing. I don’t want to give away the ending, but it’s the kind of ending that makes people in the audience teary. Mom totally lost it when Via-as-Emily said:

“Good-by, Good-by world! Good-by, Grover’s Corners … Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths … and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you!”

Via was actually crying while she was saying this. Like real tears: I could see them rolling down her cheeks. It was totally awesome.

After the curtain closed, everyone in the audience started clapping. Then the actors came out one by one. Via and Justin were the last ones out, and when they appeared, the whole audience rose to their feet.

“Bravo!” I heard Dad yelling through his hands.

“Why is everyone getting up?” I said.

“It’s a standing ovation,” said Mom, getting up.

So I got up and clapped and clapped. I clapped until my hands hurt. For a second, I imagined how cool it would be to be Via and Justin right then, having all these people standing up and cheering for them. I think there should be a rule that everyone in the world should get a standing ovation at least once in their lives.

Finally, after I don’t know how many minutes, the line of actors onstage stepped back and the curtain closed in front of
them. The clapping stopped and the lights went up and the audience started getting up to leave.

Me and Mom and Dad made our way to the backstage. Crowds of people were congratulating the performers, surrounding them, patting them on the back. We saw Via and Justin at the center of the crowd, smiling at everyone, laughing and talking.

“Via!” shouted Dad, waving as he made his way through the crowd. When he got close enough, he hugged her and lifted her off the floor a little. “You were amazing, sweetheart!”

“Oh my God, Via!” Mom was screaming with excitement. “Oh my God, oh my God!” She was hugging Via so hard I thought Via would suffocate, but Via was laughing.

“You were brilliant!” said Dad.

“Brilliant!” Mom said, kind of nodding and shaking her head at the same time.

“And you, Justin,” said Dad, shaking Justin’s hand and giving him a hug at the same time. “You were fantastic!”

“Fantastic!” Mom repeated. She was, honestly, so emotional she could barely talk.

“What a shock to see you up there, Via!” said Dad.

“Mom didn’t even recognize you at first!” I said.

“I didn’t recognize you!” said Mom, her hand over her mouth.

“Miranda got sick right before the show started,” said Via, all of out of breath. “There wasn’t even time to make an announcement.” I have to say she looked kind of strange, because she was wearing all this makeup and I’d never seen her like this before.

“And you just stepped in there right at the last minute?” said Dad. “Wow.”

“She was amazing, wasn’t she?” said Justin, his arm around Via.

“There wasn’t a dry eye in the house,” said Dad.

“Is Miranda okay?” I said, but no one heard me.

At that moment, a man who I think was their teacher came over to Justin and Via, clapping his hands.

“Bravo, bravo! Olivia and Justin!” He kissed Via on both cheeks.

“I flubbed a couple of lines,” said Via, shaking her head.

“But you got through it,” said the man, smiling ear to ear.

“Mr. Davenport, these are my parents,” said Via.

“You must be so proud of your girl!” he said, shaking their hands with both his hands.

“We are!”

“And this is my little brother, August,” said Via.

He looked like he was about to say something but suddenly froze when he looked at me.