Eleanor (24 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

T
he smell of the white gasoline masked the smell of dirty clothes, tuna cans, garbage, and sick. She sat on the sofa, looking at three cans of it on her coffee table. One was open, the lid beside a box of wood matches.

She felt old. She wore a body close to her actual age and as worn as she was. She wore it like a shroud, feeling the cancer wriggle and kill cells inside her one by one, only to be healed to die again.

Her big plan, the flash of brilliance she had staggering out of Pearce's office, was to disappear in ashes, leave a tragic mystery behind her—Tabitha and Eleanor Anders burned up in flames. It seemed fitting. It was a stupid idea, but it was the only one she had. Like her life with Tabitha, like her dreams of assimilation, the house had been consumed by its own ignorant energies. The question had only been whether she could remain inside while the fire took the house, ending her worries once and for all.

She knew she couldn't do it. Her instinct would kick in and shoot her out a window like a bullet. If there was one thing she knew she was, knew she couldn't change, it was her instinct to survive. She leaned forward and twisted the cap on the gasoline. It was making her dizzy.

The driver had accepted a peck on the cheek for his help getting the groceries to the porch. He'd offered to carry them to the kitchen, but she waited until he left before opening the door and dragging them inside. She ran her tongue down the roof of her mouth and tasted him.

She didn't look forward to the change. Tabitha had been right. Whatever else she was, she was a female. Though she could be male, it was never a comfortable fit. She reminded herself it would be temporary. Just until she figured something else out.

Already the memory of her old shape was fading out of her cells. She could feel it slipping away like a bright but dimming memory. She held it now, but she knew that if she changed into the driver from Tabitha's wrecked and poisoned body, Eleanor would be pushed out and lost to her. She'd need to get another sample from Nebraska to go back.

But there was no going back. Everything was ruined.

She'd need clothes. Nothing in the house would fit. She doubted Dwight's bloody shirt and pants would work. She'd buried them last fall in the yard by the shed. They'd be tatters by now. That meant another excursion. She looked at the gas cans and reconsidered her original plan.

The easiest solution would be to call the driver back, invite him in, take his clothes, and burn his body with the house. She could drive now. Her only firm A of the semester was in driver's education. She could take the car and be to Cheyenne or Pierre before anyone identified the body.

“No,” she said aloud in her dead mother's voice. “Be better than that.”

She lifted her hand against the rays of evening light seeping through a crack in the curtains, and gazed at her flesh, looking through it like an x-ray. This body was ruined. How had Tabitha endured such pain, such betrayal for so long? Bringing her arm down, she was taken by a terrible and merciful thought. She was glad Tabitha was dead. Grateful she was free of this.

And so should she be.

There was no use in being Tabitha any more. Her last hope to remain in Jamesford was gone. Pearce had refused her simple request to look for a local family to foster Eleanor. There was nothing to be done. The decision was made. For Eleanor's own good, she had to be relocated away from the gossipy meanness of Jamesford.

There was some logic to it, she realized. It was a good idea to get away from here. It was populated with bullies who'd never let her live a peaceful day again. Why did she want to stay here now that Tabitha, her champion, was gone? For the same reason she'd stayed here before, she realized. This was where she was loved, but now it was David that confused her and not Tabitha.

It was over. There was no time. She had the weekend. Monday morning, Pearce would come to take them to Riverton forever. But there was no one to take. Tabitha was gone. Eleanor was gone. All gone.

She stood up and removed her clothes. She let them fall in a clump on the floor. Naked, she went into the kitchen for a bag of chocolate Easter candy. With a mouthful of sugar she ran a warm bath. It would help. She'd be adding mass and that meant she'd be cold—endothermic.

The driver was called Nicholas Parker, and he had acne scars on his chin and a red mustache. She had no clothes for him, but she couldn't bear Tabitha's cancer another minute. And, she thought, there was David's party. She climbed into the tub.

Eleanor spent Thursday cleaning the house. She didn't think that Pearce would keep her appointment, but just in case, she didn't want to run the risk of losing the few hours she still had. It felt right to clean. She washed Tabitha's sheets, vacuumed every inch, dusted every surface. She even washed the windows where the sun had shown for the last time on her mother.

She took special care in the bathroom. There was a musk there that couldn't be easily identified or explained. Not that she expected visitors, but one never knew. Pearce could drop by any time. It would be her luck that she would now.

If she did, Tabitha was out visiting friends, saying good-bye and wrapping up affairs. If she insisted on waiting, Eleanor would patiently sit with her and wait her out. Eleanor knew patience.

But Stephanie Pearce never materialized on Thursday and Eleanor watched the sunset from her porch, eating a cold PopTart and drinking a glass of iced tea. She watched the high evening clouds turn from white to orange to black, and then disappear against the deep velvet sky. When she went back in the house, she felt complete. It was the feeling she had when she'd put the last details on a long essay or finalized an experiment in science class. It was a sense of accomplishment and conclusion.

She'd come to a peace with Jamesford, Tabitha, and even David. Though she'd been happy here with her mother, all things end. It was not necessarily a bad thing. Tabitha's words after the prom echoed in her thinking: “If you could go back, would you? Taking it all or leaving it all? Would you trade that away?” Again her answer was no. And so she was resigned to her last few hours in Wyoming.

She lost the driver's sample but she wasn't worried. As Eleanor, she could visit Cowboy Bob's unnoticed and get another easily enough.

On Friday, Eleanor shopped. She bought men's Levis, a shirt, a pair of work boots, and a belt, just in case she'd mis-guessed the pants' size. The woman at the secondhand store raised an eyebrow but didn't pry.

Eleanor put the clothes in a neat pile beside the bathroom and took meat out of the freezer to thaw. She'd cook it all up after David's party and by Sunday morning she'd be gone.

She planted tomatoes on Tabitha's body and was glad she'd decided not to burn the house down. It would be unjust to her memory. Besides, it would rob her of a day if people started to look for her Sunday.

Friday night, she watched a mystery before bed. Twice she caught herself looking for Tabitha to share her suspicions.

Saturday, Eleanor woke up as Eleanor for the last time in her house. She got up, made her bed, and went downstairs to shower before leisurely eating a big breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast. After she dressed, she brushed her hair and was on the road by ten.

She arrived at the trailer park half an hour later. She walked straight to the Venn's mobile home and up the wooden porch to their door. Before she could knock, she saw the pink invitation taped to the door. She remembered the pink envelope she'd thrown away with the bills and kicked herself. The party was not here. It was at the City Park from ten to one with lunch.

She backtracked through town before crossing the highway and heading to the park. It was nearly eleven thirty when she finally saw the party gazebo. She was dirty and windblown. Her hair was a mess, and she was dust and sweat from head to toe.

“Eleanor!” Wendy said across the grass. Karen watched her from behind a smoking barbecue. Eleanor could smell hamburgers and beef franks but didn't see David.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“Oh, they're playing Frisbee. Just the big kids. I wasn't allowed. Now you're here we can play.” She pulled Eleanor by the arm.

“I need a bathroom first,” she said.

Wendy pointed to a building beside a baseball diamond, and Eleanor dashed inside before anyone else saw her. She heard shouts and laughter coming from the Frisbee game and recognized most of the voices.

Eleanor washed her face with water and towels. She combed her hair with her fingers and straightened her blouse. She put on her headband to tame her hair and show her face. Only when she felt presentable did she go out.

“Eleanor!”

She jumped.

David sprang at her from where he'd been leaning against the fence with Wendy. “Eleanor, you've come!”

He ran to her and threw his arms around her, picking her up and spinning her. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of Karen surrounded by teenagers at the grill. Everyone was looking at them.

David dropped her on her feet but kept his hands on her. He held her shoulders while he looked at her, as if he were afraid she'd vanish if he blinked or let go for an instant.

“Eleanor, I've missed you.”

“I've been distracted,” she said, her voice not coming easily.

“I know,” he said. “They're sending you to Riverton. It's so unfair.”

“You know?”

He nodded. “Small town. How's your mother. Did she tell you I saw her?”

Eleanor looked away. “I'm hungry.”

“We have hot dogs and hamagers!” cried Wendy, pulling Eleanor by the hand. David let go and followed them to the gazebo.

Brian, Eric, Jennifer, and Aubrey greeted her warmly. Midge stood beside Henry Creek, who, with Robby Guide, held back and watched her from a back table. Barbara Pennon watched her from the other side no less maliciously.

“Glad you could make it, Eleanor,” Mrs. Venn said handing her a plate. “Do you want a cheeseburger or a hot dog?”

“Both,” she said.

“Don't eat too much,” said Barbara, sidling up beside David. She threaded her arm into the nook of his elbow before he knew she was there. “That's real Oregon Cheese. Very fatty. It'll go right to your hips.”

David extricated himself from Barbara, but not before Eleanor took her plate and sat down by Aubrey.

“Where have you been?” she said. “You've gotta have so much homework. What's going on?”

“I had a sick aunt in Shoshone Falls,” she said.

“Where?”

“I mean Sioux Falls,” she said. She could feel the Indians staring at her. It raised the hair on her neck.

“Hey, Eleanor, are the burgers okay or should we chuck 'em?” It was Brian Weaver.

“If Miss Church didn't make them, they should be fine,” she said. He laughed.

“So Sioux Falls,” Barbara said. “I thought it was Riverton.”

“Her aunt is in Sioux Falls,” said Aubrey.

“Oh,” said Barbara. “Riverton is next week. Foster family, right? Share a room in a trailer or do you get the couch?”

The group fell silent. Barbara kept her eyes on Eleanor. Eleanor met them.

“What's wrong with living in a trailer?” asked David.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Barbara said innocently.

“We'll have cake after lunch, and then you kids can play some more,” said Mrs. Venn.

“And presents!” shouted Wendy.

“Yes, presents,” her mother said.

“Oh,” said Eleanor. “Oh no. I didn't get you anything.”

“Yes, you did,” said David. “You're here. That's all I really wanted.”

“It's not much,” she said.

“I'll be the judge of that.”

“Open mine now, David,” said Barbara, handing him a blue box.

“After cake,” he said.

“Suit yourself.” She sat by Bryce and pouted.

Midge got a soda from the ice chest and sat next to Eleanor.

“Good to see you again, Eleanor,” she said quietly. “I was afraid I wouldn't see you again before you left.”

“How's Henry?”

“The same,” she said.

“I'm sorry,” Eleanor said. “Things will be better when I'm gone.”

“But I don't want you to go.,” There was a tear in her eye.

“Midge?” Eleanor said. “Are you crying?”

The big girl turned away. “You're my friend,” she said. “I'll miss you when you go.”

“I'll miss you, too,” Eleanor said softly, and then she was suddenly engulfed in Midge's arms.

“I'm sorry you have to go to a foster home. I'm sorry your mother's sick. It's all so sad. You're a good person. You deserve better.”

Eleanor reached around Midge and hugged her back.

When they broke apart, everyone was watching them.

“This is a birthday, for crying out loud,” said Brian. “Not a funeral. Let us eat cake!”

The boys began chanting “Let us eat cake” and everyone picked it up and stomped their feet until Karen lit the candles.

They sang the traditional song and what they lacked in melody and pitch, they made up for in volume. Wendy held her hands over her ears.

David leaned over the cake and took a deep breath.

“Make a wish!” Wendy yelled.

He winked at Eleanor. She blushed. He blew out sixteen red and white candles in a single puff. Everyone applauded. Midge elbowed Eleanor in the ribs and winked at her. She regretted the headband. She could not hide her crimson checks behind her bangs.

Karen and Aubrey cut cake while Eric took requests for ice cream flavors. The wind had stopped and the air was warm and bright. Eleanor could smell apple blossoms from a distant orchard, the lingering barbecue from town, and the ever-present diesel of the highway. They were all smells of home.

“Vanilla and chocolate ice cream?” commented Barbara on Eleanor's plate. “You must have quite the metabolism.”