Part 11 (1/2)

”Are you sure, honey? You have to eat something, Emmy. Some toast?” I shook my head. ”An egg?” again, shook my head. ”A bagel?”

”I'm fine. I'll take something with me.” In truth my stomach was in knots, and I was in no way shape or form hungry. I just wanted to get the day over with , and get home in one piece. I poured myself a small gla.s.s of orange juice, and sipped it as I leaned against the counter and stared at them as they stared back.

”I can't believe my baby's all grown up and in high school now.” My mother said, her eyes beginning to fill. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the corner of her eye.

”I know. I remember when Billy started.” Aunt Kitty said, sipping from her coffee. She took a deep breath, then stood. ”I better get going, Frankie.” She said to my mother. She was the only person on the planet who could get away with calling Francis Thomas Frankie, and living to tell the tale. She leaned down and gave my mom a hug, then turned to me. ”Want a ride, kiddo?” A wide grin spread across my face.

”Yeah!” arriving on my first day in a car as opposed to a bus? h.e.l.l, yeah. ”Can Beth come, too?”

”Course.” She turned back to my mom. ”I'll call you later and let you know what I found out, okay?”

”Okay. Talk to you later, honey.”

Aunt Kitty turned back to me with one of her winning smiles, and lead the way to the front door.

I was happy to see that Rebecca and I had the three seats to ourselves. I hated being squished between Rebecca and some stranger. My lover always wanted the window seat, and that was fine with me as I usually slept on the plane, anyway.

We got ourselves as comfortable as one could get in a big metal flying tube, and I settled in for a good nap. I listened with closed eyes as the pilots prepped the plane for take off, and the folks around us got settled into their seats, the overhead compartments closing with a quiet click. I took a deep breath as the realization of where we were headed stole over me once again. I thought about Nora Sayers. Was she still even alive? I had not talked to her, nor heard anything about her in at least a dozen years. If she was still there, I wondered if we'd see her at the funeral. Was Jim Sayers going to travel across the country to be there? He hadn't when Beth had been a child, so I could not imagine what would make him change. This was not going to be easy.

Aunt Kitty's car drove up to the front of our high school, and I peered out at it. It was a large red brick building, at least four stories high. It was an old school, one of the oldest in the city. Large, dark windows stared back at me. For just a moment I imagined I saw faces in those windows, staring at me, sizing me up. It was a silly thought, I realized, but I was scared. With a deep breath, I opened the car door. Aunt Kitty stopped me with a hand on my arm. I turned to look at her.

”Hey, you'll do fine, kiddo. You need anything, you don't be afraid to call, okay?” I nodded, and with an air of confidence that I absolutely did not feel, I climbed out of the car followed by my best friend.

Beth and I walked toward the large building, my aunt's car disappearing from sight as we pa.s.sed through the throng of other kids. Groups, couples, singles, any possible combination. I was so glad to have Beth at my side. Part of me wanted to grab her hand. I glanced over at her to see her looking around, gauging people as she went. I was impressed. She actually looked how I wanted to feel. She always looked how I wanted to feel.

”Are you nervous, Em?” she asked out of the side of her mouth.

”Yup.” I muttered back. ”You?”

”h.e.l.l yeah.” She said, smiling at some girl who walked by. I narrowed my eyes and looked up at her. Her eyes were looking around, her body calm and relaxed. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world.

”You're kidding me, right?” I asked, stopping us just outside of the front double doors. She shook her head.

”No. I'm not. I want to get the h.e.l.l out of here.” I grinned, and lightly punched her in the shoulder, then moved us on.

High school is thought as this big, bad monster to anyone who has not been there. As an elementary student, the average high school student appears to be like some sort of anomaly, as there were only children, and then there were adults. No way was there anything between these sacred positions.

As a student of middle school, the high school student becomes a G.o.d or G.o.ddess, because they have done the ultimate. They have left childhood, yet are not the enemy as the adult is. They are something to emulate, and want to be.

Now that I was the high school student, I realized just how screwed up my way of thinking had been. Being a teenager was not all that it had been cracked up to be. In other words, being a teen was hard!

PART 5.

MY FRESHMAN YEAR was a month old when I got some bad news.

Sat.u.r.day's in my house were pretty much all the same. I would awake to loud music blaring from the stereo in the living room, generally George Strait trying to persuade some naive young woman that he loved her. Didn't matter the selection, because no matter what it was, my mother would help the singer along by adding her own high-pitched, off-key vocals.

In theory this practice was simply because my mother liked her music, and liked it loud. At seven-thirty in the morning? Right. In realistic terms, this early morning concert was to get me and Billy's b.u.t.ts out of bed to keep her company, or help with the house work. At that point my brother was gone, so only I was privy to the serenade. After awhile I got real good at tuning it out. But one Sat.u.r.day in October, I awoke from the silence.

I raised my head, and looked around my room, focusing on the pile of clothes laying on the floor, then rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I pulled on a pair of sweats, as the cold October morning met my bare legs, and slipped into my slippers, and headed out of my room. I stood at the top of the stairs, listening. I held my breath so I could hear better; nothing. If I didn't know better, I would have thought no one was home. Running a hand through wild blonde locks, I slowly descended the stairs until I hit the main floor. The living room was just as it had been the night before, the only indication that anyone had been up this morning was the newspaper that sat, still rolled, in the recliner by the door. I looked over to my right and looked into the kitchen. I could just barely see my mother's socked feet from around the corner. I drew my brows and headed in that direction.

”Mom?” I asked as I stood in the kitchen doorway. She sat at the table, one hand on her forehead, the other fingering the tea bag on the saucer next to her coffee cup. She glanced at me with her eyes at the sound of my voice. With a small smile, she beckoned me to her.

”Come here, honey.” She said, her voice nasal and thick. She'd been crying.

”What's wrong?” I asked, as I took a tentative step toward her before heading straight into her outstretched arm. She pulled me to her, her head against my stomach as she wrapped her arms around my waist. I placed my hands on her shoulders, and stared down at her, my heart beating wildly in my chest as fear gripped me. ”Is dad okay?” I asked. She nodded, but said nothing. ”Billy? Is he hurt, did he-”

”No, honey. It's not your brother. He's fine. Dad's fine.” She sighed, and pushed me gently away, nodding toward the chair next to hers. I sat and waited expectantly. She took a deep breath, and began to speak.

”Your aunt started noticing some problems about six months ago, and let it go. She never went to a doctor until about a month ago. Have you noticed how much weight Kitty has lost?”

”Yeah. I thought she was on another of her crazy diets. ” I grinned. My mother chuckled softly.

”She has been on some wild ones, hasn't she? Remember the only corn diet?” we both laughed as we remembered that even still my aunt would not touch corn after only eating that for five weeks. ”But, no that's not the problem. She started to get some bad headaches that nothing would kick, and she is constantly tired. She finally went to the doctor, and they found that she has chronic kidney failure.” I drew back in surprise and confusion. What was that? My mother could read my question, and continued. ”Aunt Kitty's kidneys are working at about twenty-five percent of where they should be. This has been going on for years, but she had no symptoms, so had no idea.”

”Is this bad?” I asked, my voice weak. My mother nodded.

”Yes. Right now they have things basically under control, but it keeps getting worse every time she goes in. The drugs they have her on just won't seem to stop it or slow it down. They are going to start her on dialysis next week.”

I could feel my heart sink. I had heard that term before, and knew that it wasn't good. True, people could survive on dialysis for years, but in the early eighties, medicine was not as advanced. I could only stare. ”What does that mean for her, mom? How did she get this?” I breathed.

”Well,” she took another deep breath and sipped from her tea. ”They want to see how this goes for a bit, then they may have to look into transplants. And, she was born with it. It was just never caught until now.”

I sat back in my chair, and stared out the window over the sink. Aunt Kitty was far too young for this sort of thing. She was only in her late twenties somewhere. I was never sure just exactly how old she was. But sure as h.e.l.l too young for kidney failure. I turned back to my mother.

”So is this why Aunt Kitty was here so early the day we started school?” she nodded. ”What does Ron say about this?”

”Well, he's upset, but can't always be here. Aunt Kitty may have to stay here with us off and on, honey. The Air Force sends Ron all over the place, so she'll be alone a lot. I don't want her to be while she's going through this. We'll just make up a room for her in Billy's old room. I'll need your help, Emmy.”

”Of course” I exclaimed. ”I would never leave Aunt Kitty alone.” My mother smiled at me, and patted my hand that rested on the table.

”Want some breakfast, honey?” I thought about that for a moment, and nodded.

”I guess.” My mother started to get up, but I stopped her. ”No. Breakfast is on me this morning.”

I thought a lot about my aunt, and how I felt about her condition. Aunt Kitty had always seemed so strong, so young, so utterly untouchable by anything bad. The news of her illness definitely put a dent in how I felt about life, and about humans. With just the snap of the fingers, anything could happen. As I walked through the halls of my high school, I looked around at the all the life around me, realizing that there were no certainties. No promise that could not be broken. No one untouchable. I think in that moment, I grew up some, some of the innocents and naive outlook of childhood shedding like a second skin. I also realized that I wasn't going to like the transition from child to adult very much.

As the year progressed I began to concentrate fully on my studies, determined as always to do my very best. As my focus changed, so did my friends. Darla Newman and I did not hang out much, but I found a new group of academic-oriented students who's only goal in school was to receive the highest grades, and conquer the most academic clubs. By the end of my Freshman year, I had been on the honor roll every semester, and had received an award for perfect attendance, as well as being in Honor Society, the English club, FBLA, and every advanced cla.s.s that I was allowed to take. Life was good.

Beth had immediately gone to find out about the school's Drama program, led by Ms. Andy White, a young, beautiful recent college grad, who was determined to whip the nearly non-existent department into shape. The old teacher, Mr. Muller, had been on the verge of retiring for almost ten years, and had not cared one way or the other. So, Ms. White had her work cut out for her.

”Okay, Em. You gotta tell me if this is believable or not,” I sat on the dry, winter-browned gra.s.s in the park near our neighborhood, where Beth was rehearsing for the new play about to start in three weeks. She played the play's villain, Nadine Kidd, and was shot at the end of the show. I watched on as she looked at an imaginary character, saying her lines flawlessly as I supplied the lines of the person she talked to as I read off her script. Beth put so much into her role, I actually felt a chill run down my spine in fear from her psychotic part.

”You won't get away with it, Nadine.” I said, glancing up at her. She glared at the air in front of her.

”No? Just watch me” she hissed, and tried to walk past the hero.

”Bam!” I yelled out into the cold, quiet afternoon. Beth grabbed at her chest, a look of utter pain and surprise in her blue eyes. She fell to her knees, the hand that did not grip the imaginary wound reaching out for the other character.

”Why?” she breathed, as she fell flat on her face, and remained still. I watched her in awe. How had she gotten so good? With a wide smile, I stood and clapped. Beth rolled over and smiled up at me. ”You like?” she asked, and I nodded vigorously.