Touch of the Clown (15 page)

“Dill-pickle sandwiches!” She actually shuddered.

The beach is crowded–kids running back and forth squealing, adults baking themselves, some teenagers horsing around. Three old ladies in straw hats watch everything from a bench. There is the smell of the lake, a smell of dampness and dead fish, cut wood and evergreens. Gulls hover over the sand watching for food. Every now and then they drift back into the sky, their cries lost in jittery music from ghetto blasters.

I close my eyes, letting myself slip into the warmth and the smells and sounds. It seems as if Mama could be very close. “How's my big girl?” I think I hear someone say, but the words become caught on the squeal of a gull and carried away.

How you could fall asleep in the middle of so much activity, I don't know, but I think I do for a little while. Or maybe it's only a half-sleep and a half-dream with Nathan and Cosmo beside me. Nathan is handsome in his trunks, his skin like buttered toast. He smokes quietly, watching me, his hand moving toward me but not quite touching. “Cosmo,” I say. “You should cover
up.” The lesions on his arms are on his chest and legs, too. “The sun can't be good for your skin.”

“In a couple of minutes,” he says, smiling at me. “I want to explore a little more of your perfect time.” His green eyes wash over me, and then he sighs and the lids close, and he lies still with his arms folded over his thin chest, the ridges of his ribs.

A kid stumbles against me and jolts me back.

“Elvis, watch where you're going,” a woman yells.

When I look around, Auntie Sophie waves at me from the picnic table where she sits crocheting in the shade. I turn to the last few pages of
Jane Eyre.
I read slowly, trying to make the book last, not wanting it to end.

Jane! Jane! Jane! a voice calls out.

The page seems hot enough to burn my fingertips.

…it was the voice of a human being
–
a known, loved, well-remembered voice…and it spoke in pain and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently.

”I am coming!”

Cosmo!

I grab the towel,
Jane Eyre
and my survival bag, and hurry over to the picnic table.

“Can we go?” I ask Auntie Sophie.

“Heavens! We've just got here. We haven't even had lunch.”

“Can we eat now?”

“I thought you wanted to spend the whole day.”

“I'm starved,” I say, digging into the picnic hamper.

“You let me do that, honey.” Sophie whisks her crocheting away into her sewing bag. “We'll just get these wieners on the go. Such a good idea, a picnic, and just a perfect day. Harold and I get to be such stick-in-the-muds when we're just by ourselves. Luanne and Laverne always loved going to the beach, but we used to go out to Pigeon Lake. You ever been there, Barbara? A few summers we even rented a cottage for part of the summer. Then the kids got bigger and began working in the summers and there didn't seem to be much point in going anymore.”

Uncle Hal and Livvy are ambling back with their double-dipped cones dripping down onto their hands. “Mmmm. Yum,” Livvy says, holding the cone in one hand and licking chocolate off the other.

“Barbara says she's starving,” Auntie Sophie announces, “so we'll get everything ready and people can just eat whenever they want.”

“That's okay,” I say. “I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought I was.”

Livvy gives me a look, but she doesn't say anything.

It is late afternoon by the time we get back into town. As soon as I can, I use the phone in the den to call Jim Beresford but a machine comes on saying the office won't be open until nine o'clock tomorrow morning.

“Whatcha doing?” Livvy bounces up and down in the doorway. “Uncle Hal is getting
The Wizard of Oz
for us to watch tonight.”

“Big deal. We've seen it a hundred times.” I think of Daddy sunk into the sofa, sipping his sherry, mouthing the words along with the characters.
I think we're not in Kansas anymore.

“I want to see To to.” Livvy flounces off.

Somewhere there must be a telephone book. I pull open drawers and open doors in the wall unit, and finally find one in the drawer under the television. When I phone the hospital, the receptionist transfers me to a nurse at one of the nursing stations.

“Nursing Station 6C,” a voice like an answering machine comes on. I wonder if I should talk to it. “What can I do for you?” it says.

I ask about Cosmo.

“Mr. Farber?” she says. “His condition is stable.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you a member of the family?” she asks.

“No. A friend.”

“I see.”

“Can I see him?”

“At the current time, visiting is restricted to family members and a few specified friends. What's your name?”

I tell her.

“I don't see it on the list.”

“Honey,” Auntie Sophie is smiling in the doorway, “you're welcome to use the phone just so long as you tell us who you're calling.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I say. “I couldn't get through anyway.”

I wait until the dishwasher is making lots of noise after supper before I phone Nathan from the phone in the upstairs hall. Uncle Hal is getting the video ready in the den, with Livvy helping him.

“H-Hello.” Between the dishwasher and whatever's going on at Nathan's house, I can barely hear him. “H-How are things g-going?”

“Okay. The Hetheringtons are okay. But I have a feeling something bad is happening with Cosmo.”

“Is he still in the hospital?”

“He is, but only certain people can visit him. Family. Specified friends.”

“Gee.”

“I've got to get down there.”

“Listen, pal, I'm good at these kinds of plans,” Nathan says.

And I listen.

“We're just getting ready to start, honey,” Auntie Sophie says when I go into the den. “Livvy's going to love this show. It was a favorite of Luanne and Laverne's. I wouldn't be surprised if they saw it three times.”

I give Livvy the eyeball. She hasn't even told them she's seen it more times than Toto has hair on his little doggie chin.

“Can we have Rice Krispie squares?” Livvy refuses to look at me.

“You goose,” Auntie Sophie laughs. “We've just got up from the supper table. Tell you what,
though. When Dorothy gets to Shangri-La, then we'll get some munchies.”

Emerald City, I want to say. Get your movies straight. But instead I smile at Sophie and Harold. “I've seen the movie a couple of times and I'm a bit tired so I think I'll go to bed early and read
Jane Eyre.
It'll probably put me to sleep in half an hour. Is that okay?”

“Is that okay!” Auntie Sophie jumps up from the sofa and grabs my hand.

“You sleep as much as you want to. You've had a pretty stressful time and your body is just telling you that you need extra sleep. It's the best thing, believe me.”

“Goodnight, then.” I squeeze Auntie Sophie's hand, smile at Uncle Hal.

“Goodnight, Barbara,” he says through a blast of sound as he adjusts controls.

Livvy looks at me suspiciously for a minute but the MGM logo surfaces on the screen and she settles back into the sofa. “Oh, goodee,” she says, trying to sound enthusiastic.

There are extra pillows in the closet in Luanne's room. I place them under the bedcovers and lump everything to make it look as much as possible like someone sleeping. I open
Jane Eyre
and turn it over by the lamp. “Make sure the window is unlocked,” Nathan told me on the phone. I do, and close the curtains.

Uncle Hal has given both Livvy and me a five-dollar allowance for the week. Livvy managed to spend hers in one swoop at the Seven-Eleven, but I have four dollars left. I check that it is still in my pocket, grab the survival bag and tiptoe up the stairs.

From down the hall, Dorothy is singing
Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly
…

It is two blocks to the bus stop, but Sunday service is not great in the suburbs. It is light enough to do word searches, and I am into my third one when the bus finally comes. Nathan has told me where to transfer downtown, and I wait again for the bus that will take me to the hospital.

I know my way around the emergency ward, and it is easy to slip past everyone and go down to the elevators. Things are quiet on the sixth floor. It looks like visitors are leaving. I wander down the hall, trying to see into the rooms without looking like some sort of a spy. An old woman in a wheelchair glares at me.

Finally, through one door, I see a figure in a
bed. He's all hooked up to hoses and his face is covered with an oxygen mask, but I see the nest of gold hair above his forehead. A woman sits beside his bed, holding his hand. She looks like a movie star, with white-gold hair and clothes that are shiny and silky.

“I'm Barbara Kobleimer, a friend of Cosmo's,” I say to her. “Can I see him for a few minutes? He was my teacher at the clown work-shop.”

“Sure.” She smiles at me, a tired smile. “I'm his sister, Annette. He may not be awake.”

I stand by his bed. It's like the last time I saw Mama, but instead of Mama's thin face trying to smile, here is Cosmo's thin face with his eyes closed, so motionless I wonder if he is still breathing. But then there is a little shudder and his hand trembles.

“You can hold his hand,” Annette says. “In fact, I think I'll slip out for ten minutes for a smoke so you have a little visit and I'll be right back. If he needs the nurse, just press this little buzzer here.”

I take Cosmo's thin long hand in mine. It's stopped trembling and it feels cold, so I rub my palm back and forth over it to warm it. I don't
know what to do, but it seems okay to talk to Cosmo even if he is sleeping.

“Would you believe it,” I say. “I finally got to go back to Alberta Beach. Remember when we told about our most special time, and that was mine? Except it wasn't so special as it was before. I'm not sure why. The sun was shining and little kids were running in and out of the water, and there was even a pregnant lady in a bathing suit that made me think of Mama. But somehow it was all kind of a let-down. I tried to pretend it was really great because these people, the Hetheringtons, are trying like mad to make things good for Livvy and me. You would laugh at Livvy. She's sucking up to them and they feed her nonstop. I think she's happy, but she misses Daddy and Grandma. About once or twice a day she asks when we're going home. The funny thing is, I miss them, too. It's kind of silly, but I guess they needed me. The Hetheringtons, they're there for us, but we're not really there for them. Except, maybe Livvy. I think Livvy is more like they remember their daughters being when they were little. Harold–Uncle Hal–is goofy about model trains, and Livvy is real good at pretending she loves them, too. Auntie Sophie
goes like a model train all day, cleaning and cooking and running errands. After supper she generally conks out on the sofa when we're watching TV.”

I have been looking at Cosmo's hand all the time I've been talking, and now I look up past the tubes and blankets to his face, and his eyes are open. His gentle green eyes are fixed on my face. “Cosmo, you're going to get better. You have to get better. Livvy and I need you so badly.” I feel a tremor along his fingers. “Oh, Cosmo,” I say, and I can feel the tears starting at the edge of my own eyes, “you made everything different.”

His sister has come back in. “Hey, Dreamboat, how are you doing?” she says.

But he closes his eyes again.

“We'd best not tire him,” she says. “Thank you for coming.”

“Goodbye, Cosmo,” I say. “See you soon.” At the door, I stop. It seems important to say some-thing else. But what? There are no words.

Nathan is waiting for me in a chair by the nursing station.

“S-Sorry,” he says. “Thought I could get here sooner but the old lady went kind of crazy.”

I sit down beside him. For a minute I can't say anything.

“Are you o-k-kay?”

I find my voice. “He's so sick. I've never seen anyone so sick, since Mama. I'm afraid.”

Nathan holds my hand as we make our way to the elevators and back through the emergency ward. “I'll ride the bus home with you,” he says. “I don't really w-want to go home myself right now anyway. M-my mom said for me n-not to come home until I've grown up. Guess that means until I'm a few inches taller and have a six-pack in my hands.”

“What started the fight?”

“Who knows. She's touchy as a h-hornet, because she and the b-boyfriend ran out of cigarettes and beer, and she knew I had cigarettes stashed somewhere but I wasn't saying where.”

It's starting to get dark as the bus rambles through the crescents and drives of the south side. Nathan holds my hand and tells me about when his uncle died in the hospital a couple of years ago, his body hooked up to a tangle of tubes with plastic bags dripping fluids into him, and other bags taking fluids away.

“I know,” I say. “It was like that with Mama
at the last. I only saw her once in the hospital. She didn't want me to come, I think.”

Nathan walks me right to the house. The block is quiet. Everything is dark at the Hetheringtons. We move like shadows into the back yard where my bedroom window looks out onto one of Auntie Sophie's flowerbeds. Nathan pops the outer screen out of place like someone who has done it more than once. He smiles crookedly at me.

“You c-crawl in and I'll pop it back into” place.

“Thanks, Nathan.” I catch his hand, and suddenly he has his arms around me, and his face is against my cheek. Where do my hands go? I move them up and feel his long hair and then his lips brushing against mine.

“G-Good night,” he says. “T-Try to call me tomorrow.”