“Maybe they want to hear from you. Know where you are.” I said this to him yesterday.
He just shook his head.
“No they don’t, it’s too late. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Per,” he said. “Shut the fuck up!”
Being friends means you can say shut the F-word up.
But I do not say the F-word.
43
I worry about Keith, especially when he drinks. So does Cherry. I worry like Gram did.
"I worry about Keith,” Gram would say, but when I asked her what she meant, she would only say, “I just worry.”
There was one time we went to watch the fireworks over the harbor. Keith invited Gram and me to sit in the cockpit of
Diamond Girl
and watch Fourth of July.
“The City of Everett is going all out this year!” Gram complained. “All our goddamned tax money wasted! They’re just shooting it up into the sky and burning it to bejesus!” she crowed.
Keith was okay the first ten minutes, and then he looked all sweaty and started clenching his fists. Green and red sparkly aerials scattered and faded across the black sky. I could not take my eyes off the glitter above my head. Loud explosions and bangs. One right after another.
Diamond Girl
’s slip was close to the sandbar where they set off the fireworks. We could feel the vibrations.
Keith started going crazy in a quiet way. Gram noticed it first. I was still looking up. My eyes on the sky. When I finally looked down, Gram was holding Keith. He was sobbing and crying into her chest. I had to look away. I was embarrassed and scared for him.
“They were kids,” I heard him cry. “Just tiny babies. Women and babies.” He moaned in her arms.
“They blew them up! The bastards just fucking blew them up like they were nothing!”
When the fireworks were finished, Gram and I sat on the rocking boat until Keith fell asleep. We had to take the bus back home.
I asked Gram later what happened.
“Was Keith sick? Was he afraid?” I asked.
Gram shook her head and sighed. “Keith’s had too much happen in his life for just one person. There’s only so much a body can stand,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
She did not answer right away, but shook her head and pressed her lips together until they were gone inside her mouth. “That goddamned war,” she finally said. “It destroyed him. Vietnam ruined Keith. It ruined him.”
She said this over and over.
I remember being confused whenever she said this.
“Vietnam is a country,” I said to Gram. “How did it ruin Keith?”
“That war. That goddamned war,” she would answer, then turn away and walk out of the room.
44
Boyfriends give girlfriends presents on Valentine’s Day. I give Cherry a card, a box of chocolates, and a gold bracelet with her name on it in red stones. I went to Zales again. They were nice. They like me because I spend money.
Cherry has the day off at Marina Handy Mart and comes downstairs to eat lunch with us.
“Ohhhh I
love
it, Per!” She kisses me on the cheek three times and hands me a card and a box. I unwrap it. It is a giant box of Hershey ’s Kisses.
She knows exactly what I like. The card says Happy Valentine’s Day, Love, Cherry. She called me Per. She loves me. She wrote it down. That means it is true.
My mouth is dry and my heart is beating fast. Cherry must be my girlfriend now.
She gives me a hug and says, “At least someone around here remembers Valentine’s Day.” She sticks her tongue out at Keith, but he ignores her.
“I’m taking Sandy out tonight. You guys want to babysit? Per? Cherry?” Gary asks.
“Cherry won’t be able to. She’ll be busy tonight.” Keith says this quickly.
His voice has something in it I have never heard before. I see two red spots form on Cherry’s cheeks.
“Yeah, sure.” I am disappointed. Cherry will not be babysitting. “I’ll do it,” I tell Gary.
“It’s just so they don’t kill each other, Per. We really hate to leave them alone together. I’ll bring you home with me and then run you back when we’re done,” he says. “We shouldn’t be too late.”
I wish I could talk to Cherry about being my girlfriend before I leave, but she and Keith are in a corner of the store with their heads together. I see Keith take one of Cherry’s hands and bring it up to his lips.
Gary talks to me nonstop all the way to his house.
“So what’s up with Cherry and Keith?”
He looks at me sideways as he asks me this. I do not know what he means.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Nothing.”
I do not think anything is up.
Sandy has a list taped to the kitchen counter.
“It’s a school night, so they have to finish their homework before any computer games or TV. I’m counting on you, Perry.” Sandy has a black fuzzy dress on and pink lipstick.
Meagan hugs me around my waist and I hear Kelly before I see her.
“Mooooooom!” Kelly flings herself into a chair. “I don’t have any homework.”
“Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and carrot cake for dessert. The number of the club is on the fridge. We really appreciate this, Perry.”
Gary comes in with Sandy’s coat, grabs her around the shoulders, and sings out of tune, “I’m taking my best girlfriend out dancing for Valentine’s Day!” He swings her around the kitchen. She covers her ears.
“I better be your only girlfriend!” Sandy warns as Gary leads her out the door.
It must be really hard to be a parent, I think, as I eat dinner with Kelly and Meagan.
“You guys got homework?” I ask.
“No!” says Kelly.
“No!” says Meagan.
Being a babysitter is easier than being a parent. All you have to remember is kids lie and they tattle on each other.
“Kelly, you have homework. Meagan told me,” I say.
Kelly slaps Meagan.
“Hey, I never told!”
“You butt-face!”
“You’re the butt-face!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
I watch the clock.
Three hours later, I hear a key opening up the front door and I am very glad. Sandy must have seen the relief on my face as she set her purse on the sofa.
“Oh Perry! Were they awful? I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay,” I say, and go outside to Gary’s Jeep.
He drives me home, tells me about their dinner and dance, and asks me again about Keith and Cherry.
“Sandy thinks there’s something there.” He pulls up in front of the store. “What do you think?”
“We’re friends,” I say. “We’re all friends. We’re a family. I do not know what is there.” And I tell him good night.
Yo is nowhere in the parking lot and
Diamond Girl
is dark and still. I take a long, hot shower and throw myself down on my couch. I am all TVed out after Kelly and Meagan, and fall asleep on my stomach with my arms under my face.
The night glows. The moon is out. Music wakes me. I think I am dreaming.
“Diamond girl . . . sure do shine . . .”
My eyes open. My clock flashes. One-sixteen. The sound is coming from the parking lot. I get up. My head spins and I sit back down. When I feel better, I tiptoe to the window, and look out. It is dark. The stars are brilliant. They are on fire. All the lights in the world are reflecting in front of me in the water. Yo is in the parking lot and the driver’s door is wide open.
Music comes out of the inside of Yo. Keith and Cherry are dancing close together. I see their breath make little ghosts in the air. Keith is wearing a suit. I have never seen him in one and he does not look fat. Cherry’s dress is long, sparkly, and drags on the ground. Keith takes one hand and closes it around Cherry’s hair. He brings her head close to his and kisses her hard. They kiss for a long, long time. I watch them turn and walk slowly all the way down the dock, weaving to the boat, arm in arm.
Dancing.
They look like Sandy and Gary.
"Day or night time. Like a shining star.”
Like a couple. The truck door hangs open. Music drifts through the air. And then I get it.
Dancing.
Cherry is Keith’s girlfriend.
Not mine. And I start to cry.
The next morning Yo’s battery is dead.
45
My list is two pages long and I show it to Keith.
"What’s this?” he asks.
"The lottery list. See, I marked off TV, trip to Hawaii, and fix
Diamond Girl
and Yo. Remember our game we played with Gram?”
“What’s this next thing?” He squints his eyes. Keith needs glasses so he can read.
“The plot at Marysville Memorial Park. That is a cemetery,” I say.
“Plot?” He looks confused.
“I want to buy the plot next to Gramp so Gram can be with him.”
Keith tells me he thinks this is a good idea and that he will drive me to Marysville in Yo.
“Where is it again?” He asked this three times during breakfast.
“At the cemetery,” I remind him.
Cherry says she thinks she knows where it is and comes with us.
She does not.
We have an easy time finding Marysville but a hard time finding Marysville Memorial Park.
I know where it is, but I do not know how to get there. Keith does not know where it is and does not know how to get there. Cherry does not know where it is, but thinks she knows how to get there.
We stop at IHOP to look through their phone book. Then we have to eat pancakes. We also have to stop at the Chevron station in Marysville to ask and at Katy’s Bakery to get doughnuts. There is a Shell gas station at a stoplight, so we ask again just to make sure we are on the right road. This time Cherry writes down what they say.
Marysville Memorial Park is green and wet because either it has rained or maybe they just watered the lawn with sprinklers. The office is dark and has lots of wood paneling. I pet the walls and it feels like a metal slide. I can see myself on the surface and I make a face. Cherry sticks her tongue out at me like I am teasing her. We make faces at each other in the shine of the wall until Keith pokes us.
“Can I help you?” A tall white-haired man in a black suit walks out from behind a counter. He must be the cemetery man. He looks just like Gramp except Gramp had a mustache, was shorter, and is dead.
“We want to buy the plot next to George Crandall.” Keith knows exactly what to ask. We tell him Gram died last August and I start to cry. Cemetery man looks a little confused until I put Gram’s box on the counter. I do that just in case he needs to see her or talk to her or something. Like the evidence on Court TV. I like those kinds of shows. They are very cool.
The cemetery man’s name is Leo. That means lion.
It is going to cost more than $2,600, Leo says. I can buy the plot next to Gramp, but I still need a vault for Gram’s urn. That is a little marble house for dead people. It was very interesting. There are lots of other charges too.
“Do you want a graveside service?” Leo asks.
I look at Keith. “What do you think, Keith?” I ask.
“We can do our own,” Cherry tells Leo. Then to me hard in my ear, “They charge you for that, you know. They charge for everything.”
Cherry is very cost-conscious, that is what Keith says. “It’s good we have someone with us who watches the bottom line,” he says behind his hand.
We need someone to dig the hole for the vault and someone to bury it and then someone to fill the dirt in plus any engraving we want on the headstone. Then it will be eighty dollars for a special brass vase to hold Gram’s flowers. After Leo adds it all up, I write out the check and make it out to Marysville Memorial Park. They take Gram and I say good-bye. I am kind of sad because it was nice to have her at home, but I know she will be happier to finally be buried next to Gramp.
“You know you can have a small urn with some of the cremains inside to keep.” I do not know what Leo is saying and I jab Keith with my arm.
“What does he mean?” I ask. “What’s cremains?”
“You don’t want to know,” he tells me, and then to Leo, “Per would prefer to keep her all together.”
I have to cry again and even Keith looks teary. Cherry has to hug us both—first me, then Keith. We write what we want engraved on the graph paper.
Keith prints in big block letters: DOROTHEA MARIE KESSLER CRANDALL
“Anything else?” he asks. “How about dates?”
“No.”
“Why not? How about at least the years?” Cherry suggests.
“Okay,” I say, and write down the years.
“What about a saying?” Leo asks.
This is getting complicated. “What do you mean?” I ask. “I only thought about her name on the stone like Gramp’s.”
“You know like
Rest in Peace
. That sort of thing,” Cherry offers.
I know she is just trying to be helpful. “Gram never rested. She just slept and then was dead,” I tell her.
“Was there a poem she liked or a Bible verse you want to put under her name?” Leo asks.
I try to think of something, but Gram was never one for Bible verses.
“What about
She will be missed
or
We loved her dearly
?” When Leo says this all three of us start to cry and he has to open another box of Kleenex.
Then I get an idea, probably my best idea. When I write the words down, Keith laughs and Leo frowns.
“Are you sure?” Leo asks. “Are you very sure?” When we tell him yes, he takes our filled-out paper and says everything will be ready in twenty days.
Three weeks later Keith, Cherry, and I drive back to Marysville Cemetery with two huge bunches of purple irises, yellow daisies, pink roses, and white baby’s breath and we have our very own little private service.
Gram and Gramp are together now. The single large red granite headstone reads
George Henry Crandall
on one side and
Dorothea Marie Kessler Crandall
on the other with all the right dates below. And underneath in the middle?