Secret Lives (16 page)

“We were acting. We didn't actually do
it.”

“But after something like that—after you've
been that intimate with someone, even if you're only acting—how do
you date and not…?”

“I haven't been interested in sex with him.”
She wondered how much she should say, how vulnerable to let herself
be. “I haven't been interested in making love to anyone since
Wayne. And I wasn't very interested in making love to him,
either.”

He was quiet, his face serious, his eyes on
hers. Then he kissed her forehead. “I'd better get you out of here
before any more slow songs come on.”

Kyle was still up when she got home, although
it was close to one.

“You waited up,” she said, feeling a mixture
of annoyance and gratitude.

“No, no.” He raised himself slowly from his
chair and handed her a notebook. “Just reading your next journal
installment. Did you have a nice evening?” She didn't miss the
worry in his voice.

“I like him, Kyle, but I haven't completely
disregarded your warning.” She had almost forgotten that an hour
ago she wanted this man to make love to her on his quilt.

Kyle smiled at her. “You know, there was a
time many years ago when I thought of fixing you up with him. My
favorite two young people. I thought I could send him out to
California and you'd fall in love with him and he'd bring you back
to us.”

She felt a little stab of very old guilt. “I
had a dream for myself, Kyle, and I had to go after it.”

“I know.” He put his hand on her back and
steered her toward the stairs. “Ultimately I guess it was the right
thing for you. I just wish it hadn't driven such a wedge between
us.” At the bottom of the stairs he caught her elbow, turned her to
face him. “Has Ben told you anything about ... his marriage
breaking up?”

“No, but I've decided it doesn't matter. I'm
only here for the summer—I'm not planning to marry the guy. We
don't need to know all the gory details of each other's pasts.” She
started up the stairs and then stopped to look back at her uncle.
He hadn't moved. “If I knew, would it change the way I feel about
him?”

“There's a good chance of that, honey.”

“Then I don't want to know.”

–
15–

February 3, 1944

We have become something of a threesome,
Kyle, Matt and I. At school now, when Kyle is off with Sara Jane,
Matt sits with me on the stoop to read. He doesn't expect me to
talk to him, just accepts me as I am and I like that about him.
Although he is still pretty as a girl, with his dark eyes and black
hair, in just these few months since I've known him his features
have taken a more masculine turn and his voice has deepened to a
pitch I like to hear in the cavern. He has the proper amount of
reverence for the cave and I have complete trust in him.

I have even read my stories to him. He calls
them “children's stories” and I realized he is right about that
because although I'm now sixteen and a half, the children in my
stories are never older than twelve.

I just reread this and it sounds as if I'm
as close to Matt as I am to Kyle. This is not at all true. I don't
talk much to Matt, but that is fine because he himself is a quiet
person. Often, Kyle and I have conversations with Matt just looking
on, smiling at us. Last night Kyle and I spoke about how he keeps
Sara Jane from getting pregnant (he uses trojans, which are
disgusting but apparently work). Matt said he couldn't believe we
would talk about such a private thing and Kyle said there was
nothing we didn't know about one another, that we are each other's
best friend, now and forever.

April 3, 1944

Matt's mother had a terrible accident last
week. A neighbor who had just learned to drive drove them both to
the market and the car's brakes went out and they hit a tree.
Matt's mother is in the hospital and she can't move her legs. Matt
has been quieter than usual this week at school and in class. I
watch him stare out the window, or fold and unfold the edge of the
paper he's supposed to be writing on til it falls apart. At recess
he sits next to me on the stoop, his book on his knees, never
turning the pages.

Last night he came to the cavern for the
first time since the accident. Kyle was in the rocker and I was on
my mattress and we were quizzing each other on our spelling words.
Matt sat down on the settee and began to cry. Kyle set his book
down and was next to Matt in a flash, asking him what was
wrong.

“
The doctor said she's permanently
paralyzed,” Matt said. “She'll never be able to walk
again.”

I moved to the settee too and Kyle and I
both put our arms around Matt while he cried. My arms were around
Matt, but my hands were on Kyle's shoulders and I had the feeling,
not of comforting Matt, but of holding on to both of them because
we are still at war and very soon I will lose my brother and our
friend and I cannot bear it. They plan to enlist as soon as they
graduate. I didn't realize I was crying too until I felt Kyle wipe
the tears from my cheeks with his fingers.

Later, after Matt left, Kyle told me I must
be in love with Matt to have reacted so strongly to his crying.

“
No, I'm not,” I said. “I like Matt but I
don't want him or anyone else as a boyfriend.”

“
He's in love with you too,” Kyle said as
if I hadn't spoken.

“
Kyle, I'm not in love with him!”

“
Sure.” Kyle smiled at me like he knew more about me than I
know about myself and then went off to meet Sara Jane, with his
trojans in his pocket
.

June 5, 1944

I haven't slept for days. At night, I lie
awake in my bed, watching the moonlight as it moves from one side
of the ceiling to the other and finally disappears in the dawn. I
listen to the sounds: Kyle's breathing from the other bed, a few
night calling birds, a few cicadas, though it's still early in the
season. In the middle of the night I hear Daddy and Susanna's bed
start its rhythmic creaking. Sometimes Susanna cries out but most
times she doesn't and I don't feel a thing listening to them. I
don't remember the last time I felt the urge to touch myself down
there. I know if I try it will be like touching dead wood.

In another week Kyle will be gone. Oh, why
must he go? Why did he have to graduate when we are at war? He is
excited about leaving. I lie awake thinking of Susanna's brother
who died at Pearl Harbor, the other Americans who have died in
Europe, and the ones who came back with one leg gone or worse, and
I think, selfishly, of what my days will be like working without
him at the mill this summer, going to school without him or Matt. I
wish I could quit, but Daddy says no.

At least Matt is not enlisting. His mother
is home now and he is her nurse. He turns her in bed to keep sores
from forming, he gives her the bed pan, he bathes her. It is a
horrible existence for him. There is a neighbor woman who cares for
her for a few hours in the morning so he can finish out this school
year and graduate.

The only other person who is as sad as I am
about Kyle leaving is Sara Jane. At school, her nose is always red
and she clings to Kyle, but Kyle is unable to offer sympathy to
either of us. He won't miss us. He believes he has an adventure
ahead of him and maybe he does.

June 13, 1944

Kyle is gone. We had a party for him last
night, Daddy and Susanna, Sara Jane, Matt and I. We fed him chicken
and cake and told jokes and tried to laugh. I watched Kyle's face
and I could see he had already left. His eyes were faraway, full of
his new life.

Towards the end of the evening, Sara Jane
pulled Kyle outside, where I'm sure they said their long, sappy
goodbye while I cleaned up. I didn't see him again til he came to
bed. He sat down on my bed and told me he'd miss me more than
anyone. I said I would miss him, too. I was trying hard not to cry.
Then he got a real serious look on his face.

“
I want you to promise me something,” he
said.

The only thing I couldn't promise him, I
thought, was to become friends with Sara Jane.

“
Promise me you'll leave the cave. I
mean, leave it. Close it up. It's not normal to spend so much time
there.”

“
I don't care about being normal,” I
said.

“
The cavern's from your childhood and
you're not a child anymore. You don't need it.”

Yes I do, I thought to myself. But the last
thing I wanted tonight was to argue with Kyle.

“
All right,” I said.

Kyle smiled and leaned over to hug me. I
started crying then and he stroked my hair and told me everything
would be all right, that he'd be home before I knew it, and all in
one piece to boot.

August 22, 1944

Matt is the prettiest man I've ever seen.
Last night I watched him as he read in the cavern by lantern light
and I wished I was a painter so I could make proper use of his
beauty. He always looks like he should be on stage—his eyes are so
dark and his lashes so thick that he looks like he's wearing
mascara. His lips are very full and in the lantern light, a pale
rose color. I was certain that if I touched them with my fingertips
they would feel like velvet.

I know Kyle told him to look out for me. He
sits in the rocker or on the settee and reads while I write. I want
him to be here. I want his quiet companionship, yet I feel guilty
because not only am I still in the cavern after promising Kyle I
would leave it, but I have made Matt dependent on it as well. If I
were in love with him as Kyle thinks, it would be all right. But I
am not and Matt should be meeting some girls who would appreciate
him better than I do.

For my seventeenth birthday a couple of
weeks ago, Matt bought me a typewriter! (I think he has a lot of
money saved up from when his father died.) The typewriter is big
and black and wonderful. At first I was very reluctant to use it,
but Matt gave me a book that shows how to type and now I am good at
it. I've got it on a little table in front of one of the straight
backed chairs. It echoes horribly in the cave so I put cotton in my
ears when I use it, and I only use it before Matt arrives in the
evening so as not to disturb his reading.

I can't believe the way my words look in
print!

October 3, 1944

School is horrid. I'm more nervous there
than ever, like I am when I'm in town. I've moved my seat so it's
right near the door because that's the only place I can breathe in
there.

Sara Jane brings her letters from Kyle to
share with Priscilla. I believe she's gotten more from him than I
have and it disgusts me that she reads them to Priscilla. I'm sure
Kyle didn't mean his words to be heard by anyone but Sara Jane.
Sara Jane is getting fat.

October 15, 1944

There is a large, fast-growing bush next to
the entrance of the cavern and every few weeks I hack back its
branches to let in the sunlight. Yesterday I decided to dig it up
and be done with it once and for all.

It was a hard job and took me most of the
morning because the roots went very deep. After I'd pulled out the
bush and carried it over to Ferry Creek, I started to fill in the
hole. Then I spotted something in the bottom of the hole and lifted
it up with my spade. It was an arrowhead, perfectly chiseled and
unmistakable for anything else. I dug around a little more and
found a second, less perfect than the first but still obviously
something that had been carefully made by someone.

When Matt came that evening it was too dark
to dig further but we decided to look for more next weekend. I keep
thinking about Rosie the skeleton and wondering if her family was
connected to these arrowheads. Maybe I'm not the first person to
live in this cavern?

December 22, 1944

Matt asked me to a Christmas party at
Priscilla's. I was not directly invited, but I don't blame
Priscilla for that. She probably figures if she asked me I would
say something nasty back to her and there is a chance I might
have.

I told Matt no at first and he said he
expected me to say that, but he wanted to ask me anyway. Matt
understands me. He never demands anything of me.

He said he wished I'd reconsider because he
wanted to get out and he didn't want to go alone, so I finally
agreed to go. It is tomorrow night and I am nervous.

December 24, 1944

Matt borrowed his neighbor's car to take us
to the party. He drives very slowly because he really doesn't know
how.

I couldn't think of what to wear because all
I have is dungarees and skirts that are only fit for school.
Susanna said I could borrow something of hers but she is too tall
for me to fit in her clothes.

So I wore nothing. Just my heavy brown
coat.

I figured I'd better tell Matt before we got
there. In the car he looked over at me and said I looked very
pretty. I had tied my hair back with a red bow. I thanked him and
then said, “I don't have anything on under this coat.”

“
You mean, nothing special.”

“
No, I mean nothing.” I hadn't even worn
underwear and the lining of my coat felt cold against my bare skin.
Now that we were halfway there I was feeling some regret at my
decision, but Matt laughed.

“
I don't believe you,” he said.

I unbuttoned my coat and opened and shut it
quickly and he gasped and stepped on the brakes so that we skidded
to the side of the road. And there we sat. He stared at me
speechlessly and then suddenly started laughing. We both laughed so
hard tears rolled down our cheeks. When he could talk he said, “You
are the most unusual person in the world, Kate.” Then he started
the car and we continued on to the party.

I think even Kyle would have turned the car
around to take me home to change. Maybe that's what I was hoping
would happen.