Blind Squirrels (13 page)

His bedroom was neat and clean. 
He had albums on his shelves and a stereo on his chest-of-drawers.  He told us
to sit on his bed.  I turned around towards his bed, and what I saw amazed me. 
Stuck on his wall was my letter.  I recognized it right away because my
handwriting is very small and unique.  Then I saw the key ring hanging
underneath it.  The same key ring I gave him for Christmas the year before.  It
had to be.  It was right under my letter.  Why were they hanging on the wall?

Max noticed them at about the
same time I did.  In record time, he pulled both items off the wall and put
them in his closet.  Beverly saw what was happening, too.

“What’s that?” she asked.  “Is
that a love letter?”

“It’s nothing,” he answered,
trying to avoid my gaze.

“Let me see.”  Bev was being
insistent.

“It’s just some notes I’ve been
studying.  Really…”

I could tell Bev didn’t believe
him, but he was guarding the closet.  She couldn’t go through him, so she gave
up.  I noticed that Max’s face was bright red.

We all sat down on the bed, and
Max put on an album.  It was Elton John’s “Tumble Weed Connection.”  I noticed
Max looking at me as the album started.  Max – and everyone else in the
universe – knew that I loved Elton; it was more widely known than my feelings
for Max.  Still, I didn’t deceive myself into believing Max played the album
for me.  I could tell that he also liked Elton John; he had several of his
albums.

A short while later, Max’s aunt
called us into the living room.  She and Max’s dad, Alex, were going out for
the evening.  Before leaving, his aunt told us that there was plenty of beer in
the fridge.  I looked around to see if anyone else thought this announcement
was odd, but I seemed to be the only one.

After the adults had gone, Max
asked if anyone wanted something to drink.  Debbie asked for soda, Lindsey
didn’t want anything, and Bev asked for some water.  I was playing with Corky
when I heard Max say, “What about you, Kat?”

I looked up and Max was getting a
bottle of beer.  “I’ll have what you’re having,” I said, trying hard to look
cool.

“How old are you?” Max asked
slyly.

“I’ll be fifteen in December,” I
answered.

Max handed me the beer in his
hand, and then he got himself another one out of the refrigerator.  I tried to
open my bottle, but I wasn’t strong enough.  Max took it from me and screwed
the lid off.  “Do you know how to drink it?”

“Ha, ha,” I said with a smirk as
I took hold of the bottle.  I decided to try my hand at small talk…with Max. 
“Does your aunt live here with you and your dad?”

“Yes,” he said flatly, and it
seemed clear that he didn’t want to continue with that conversation.  So much
for small talk.  I took a swallow of the beer.  Max watched me with
anticipation.  I could tell he thought I had never tasted a beer before.  What
he didn’t know was that my dad let me drink beer all the time.  True, I had
never finished a whole one, but, since I liked the taste, I was sure I could
handle it.

Sam arrived a little later,
followed by the other members who showed up.  I was still sipping my bottle of
beer, and Sam asked for one of her own.  Soon, just about everyone was drinking
beer.

Around half way through the
meeting – and half way through my beer – I began feeling a little tipsy.  In
addition, my beer didn’t taste nearly as good as it had in the beginning. 
Hiding the bottle behind me, I leaned over to Max and asked where the restroom was. 
He directed me, and, once I was inside, I poured the rest of that Miller down
the drain.  I sat down on the toilet long enough to compose myself before
heading back out into the meeting.  I sat beside Sam, who was behind Max.  She
saw the empty beer bottle in my hand and whispered, “How’d you down that beer
so fast?”

Max glanced at me over his
shoulder.  I could see that he was still nursing his first bottle, and it was
only half empty.  “Let me get you another one,” he said.  Before I could stop
him, he was up and in the kitchen.

I rushed behind him.  As he took
another beer out of the refrigerator, I said, “That’s okay.  Someone else might
want another one, and I’d hate to disappoint them...”

Max raised his hand to stop me. 
“We have plenty.  Matilda bought four six-packs.  Here, enjoy yourself.”

Reluctantly, I took the bottle. 
Max watched until I’d taken the first sip, and then he said we should go back
to the meeting.  The beer was looking – and possibly tasting – more and more
like horse pee.  I felt like puking, but I couldn’t endure the ensuing
humiliation.  Instead, I decided that the best solution was to drink the beer
as fast as I could – then I’d soon be through with it.

The meeting ended around the same
time that I finished the second beer.  I felt very tired, and some of the
people in the room were looking fuzzy.  Additionally, I felt light-headed and
everything seemed incredibly funny.  Sam was thoroughly enjoying my
intoxication, but she also worried about the consequences I might be facing.

“What are your parents gonna say,
Kat?”

I hadn’t thought about my
parents.  They would kill me – I was sure.  “Oh, they won’t care,” I lied.

“Wow, that’s cool.  My mom would
strangle me.”

My head was starting to hurt.  “I
think I should go home now.”

I told everyone goodbye and
started for home.  I glanced back once.  Max was standing in the doorway
watching me.  He waved goodbye.  I smiled and waved back.  I wasn’t sure if he
was smiling back or if he was snickering at the drunken fool walking away.

I arrived to an empty house –
what luck!  I went inside and got ready for bed.  I was almost asleep when our
car pulled into the drive.  I could hear Birdie laughing and giggling.  Mom
came into my room.

“Kat, are you okay?  Why are you
in bed at nine o’clock?”

“I have a terrible headache.  I
just want to sleep.”

“Have you been drinking?  I smell
beer.  What’s going on?”

My imagination was still working,
luckily.  “I spilled a beer in Max’s refrigerator.  It got on my clothes, and I
felt too bad to change.  You know Max’s aunt wouldn’t let us drink.”

“What were you doing in their
refrigerator?”

“His aunt needed help with drinks
for everyone.  I offered to help.”  I would get an A+ in Fantasy for the night.

“Well, you should get out of
those stinky clothes – although no one will notice.  Your father smells like a
brew factory himself.”  I was too young and too drunk to notice the bitterness
in my mom’s last statement.

“I’ll just sleep like this.  I’m
too tired to move.”  I shut my eyes and was asleep in record time.

My birthday came and went without
much ado.  Olivia and Aurelia made more fuss over me than anyone.  The
excitement about the upcoming Bons Copains party was too much for me – it
overshadowed my fifteenth birthday and just about everything else in my life. 
Besides, my sixteenth year would be the one to celebrate – I could start dating
then.

Daddy turned forty-seven that
year, and he seemed healthier than ever.  Dad was spending quite a lot of time
at Bob’s – a neighborhood bar – and this concerned Mom.  He would leave before
eight every morning and he wouldn’t come home until after two in the
afternoon.  Then he would head straight for bed to sleep off his inebriation. 
Mom would work hard all day, and, when she got home, Daddy would be expecting
dinner right away.  And, of course, Rebecca never cooked.  Believe me, that was
a blessing.

My own affairs kept me from
paying too much attention to the animosity that was building at our house.  I
didn’t even notice that my mom was becoming stoic, while my dad was becoming
malicious.

Shortly after my birthday,
Rebecca announced that she and Birdie were moving out.  She said she could no
longer tolerate my mother’s faultfinding and insults.  They were moving into a
tiny one bedroom apartment about one mile from our house.  My parents tried to
point out the foolishness in Rebecca’s plan: she had no transportation, no one
to help with Birdie, and she was six months pregnant.  My mom also told her
that she would try to be less critical if Rebecca would only agree to pick up
after Birdie and herself.  Rebecca stood her ground.  She was moving out the
next day.

After Rebecca and Birdie moved,
some tiny semblance of normality returned to our lives.  Mom became more
jovial, and Dad stayed home more.  I found that I missed Birdie, but we visited
her almost every day.  The peace that echoed through our house was a blessing.
Best of all, I had my room all to myself again.  I spent the day after they
moved rededicating my room to Elton John, and every night I would fall asleep
to one of his tapes.

The day of the party finally
arrived, and I was more than ready.  Mom had bought me a new outfit and it
wasn’t polyester or blue.  I rode to the party with Sam – she’d turned sixteen
only six days earlier.  We got to Mrs. Kalakos’ house just before eight at
night.  A few cars were already in the driveway.  Mrs. Kalakos lived in a
beautiful two-story brick house with white columns out front.  The front door
opened into a large plush living room, with a winding stairway on one side. The
kitchen was visible in the back.

Mrs. Kalakos and her husband
Dmitri met us at the door.  Dmitri, as he insisted we call him, had a deep,
dark tan and he was incredibly handsome: black hair and mustache, striking
physique, and dark blue abysmal eyes.  They jubilantly invited us inside and
gave us the grand tour.  Upstairs were four bedrooms and a luxurious bathroom. 
The master bedroom was huge and it had its own bathroom, too.  The kitchen was
full of cabinet space.  There was a breakfast bar that separated the kitchen
from a small dining area, and trays of food covered it.  A table held more
trays and plenty of cups, plates, and drinks.  A hand-crafted oak door led out
of the kitchen area and into a huge backyard.  Another door led into the former
garage, now a lavish game room furnished with a pool table, a Ping-Pong table,
a dart board, and a bar with several tall stools around it.  The door that led
to the dining room lay just under the staircase, and another bathroom was just
past the dining room at the end of a small hallway.

I was sufficiently impressed. 
I’d never been in a house like theirs before.

Dmitri proved to be a great
host.  He played games with us, and, later, he put on some music for us to
dance to.  The food and drinks were delicious.  He even had beer, but he didn’t
allow anyone to drink it inside – he sent them into the backyard.

I stayed away from the beer that
night, but Sam was drinking one after another.  She soon joined some of the
others that were drinking, and she left me all alone in the kitchen.  I began
to wonder if I’d have to call my mom to pick me up. 

I spent my time watching Max.  He
seemed to be having a wonderful time while I was finding it a bit boring.  He
barely acknowledged my existence that night, and I felt terribly alone.  I
started wondering if I had made a mistake in joining Bons Copains.  I really
didn’t fit in with the other members.  I also thought about my latest
experiences with Max.  I felt the sting of tears when I realized that he had
just been playing games with me.  I suddenly knew that I meant nothing to him. 
I spent the remainder of the party alone on Mrs. Kalakos couch, watching people
dance, listening to the music, and feeling sorry for myself.

I stayed in Bons Copains at Sam’s
insistence.  After the Christmas break, we voted to have a membership drive.  I
encouraged Olivia to join, but she hesitated.  She felt that many of the
members were snobs, and she wanted no part of them.  I was unsuccessful with
all of my friends.  No one wanted to join Bons Copains.

We began accepting applications
for new members, and then we decided that each member would adopt a prospective
member as a little brother or little sister.  Unfortunately, there were more
members than prospects, so some people had no one assigned to them.  Sam didn’t
have a prospect; neither did Max.  I was lucky – or unlucky – enough to get
assigned a little sister.  Her name was Aurora Wells.  She was a ninth grader,
and I had seen her a few times at PE – although she was in a different class. 
Aurora was a big girl – tall and chunky.  She wore her long black hair in a
shag haircut, and it always looked unkempt.  She wasn’t unattractive – she had
big brown eyes and a friendly smile – but she was overbearing and loud.  I knew
right away that I was her big sister for one reason: no one else wanted her.

Mrs. Kalakos introduced me to
Aurora one Monday afternoon.  The other teams of members and prospects were
also present, and I looked around to see if I recognized any of the other new
comers.  Pete McDermott and Phil Avis, a good-looking ninth grader, were teamed
together; Rita Daltery was put with her real sister, Mandy; Beverly Corley was
with Cherry Trinity, a sophomore and a cheerleader; Matt Bruin was paired with
Michael Barr from my Chemistry class; and Kevin Cone matched up with Kyle Anders,
a quiet and shy sophomore.  I had the only dud in the bunch. 

Aurora was happy to be my little
sister.  She incorrectly assumed that being a member of a service club made you
popular.  She decided right away that we would be best friends, and, of course,
she wanted to share all her deepest secrets with me.  I was less enthusiastic,
and I ditched her when we left Mrs. Kalakos’ room.