Passing Notes (6 page)

My parents didn’t shout after me to come
back, but they did continue to babble to each other about stupid
stuff I’d done that I didn’t find as funny or charming as they did.
I slipped into Grandma’s room to kiss her goodnight. She was still
awake. I sat down on the edge of her bed and held her hands so that
she could see the heart with her name again.

Grandma patted it and smiled at me. “Do you
know where my letters are?”

“What letters?”

“From your grandfather.”

My eyes began to water. She knew who I was. I
wished so much that I could help her right then while she was
lucid. Through trembling lips I told her, “I don’t know,
Grandma.”

“I kept all of them. Each one lovelier than
the last.”

“When was the last time you saw them?”

Only she was already fading. I saw the fog
come across her face as the world of confusion crept in again.
“Will you write me one more? It’s been so long, Joe. Just one more
to let me know that you’re all right.”

“Grandma?”

She fell asleep in that world where nothing
made sense. Yet for just the briefest moment she shared something
with me. The letters. They mattered to her after all these years.
My ghost friend was right. I had to do this perfectly.

In my room I stayed up late going through
websites full of love poems and Shakespeare sonnets. I thought
about the words like I’d never done before and why they were
written the way they were. I did my vocabulary homework in cursive
and really focused on making each letter perfect. When I was all
done, I went to my dad’s office and took out a piece of the linen
paper he used for his business letters.

Slowly, I created a letter. Each sentence was
carefully thought out. I typed it onto my computer and used the
spellchecker to make sure I got everything right. Then I practiced
writing it on scratch paper twice before I copied over onto the
nice paper. I put a sheet of lined paper under the stationery to
keep my sentences straight. At the top I put Bethany’s beautiful
name in a heart, and at the bottom I wrote simply: Sincerely, Mark.
I wanted to write “love” but I thought we weren’t to that point
yet. I was really, truly “sincere” about the words I’d chosen. I
hoped it would be enough.

I folded the letter carefully in thirds,
using a ruler to make sure they were even, and placed it in an
envelope, addressed it and found a stamp in the kitchen near where
Dad kept the bills.

In the morning I stuck it in the mailbox
before I left for school. I’d never sent a letter through the mail,
and a silly thrill went through me as I closed the front of the box
and popped up the red, metal flag on the side. The flag was only
four inches tall, and I wished it was as tall as a tower so I’d be
certain the postmaster wouldn’t miss it. I almost wanted to stay
home from school and watch out my front window all day. Or better
yet, park myself on a lawn chair right next to the mailbox. If the
post office wasn’t in the opposite direction of my school, I’d
drive over there and drop the letter off. Surely, if you took the
letter straight to the post office, they got delivered faster. Was
that right? I considered being late to school and following that
urge. Just as I was about to open the mailbox door again, the
garage door opened and my dad came out to get in his car for
work.

“Whatcha doin’?” he called out to me. “You
expecting something? I brought in the mail yesterday. Just junk
mail.”

“I’m uh...” I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell my
dad what I was doing. He’d tease me about it, and I was already too
self-conscious. “I thought I saw a spider. A big one. I wanted to
shoo it away so it didn’t scare Mom.”

“That was thoughtful.” Dad put his hands on
his hips and looked up at the sky, took a deep breath of fresh air,
and then dropped his head again. “Guess I’ll call the exterminator
to swing by again.”

“Nah, Dad. It’s okay. There wasn’t anything
there. Just my imagination.” I lowered the red flag and lifted my
hands to show him that it was clear. Dad seemed satisfied with
that, told me to have a nice day, and got in his car. I lingered in
my car on the curb for a second, acting like I was looking in my
backpack for something until my dad backed out and drove down the
street. Then I jumped back out of my car, popped the flag up again,
and kissed the top of it for luck before heading off to school.

This was Wednesday. Maybe Bethany would get
my letter before the weekend. I hoped so.

8

The next two days were painfully slow.
Bethany continued to avoid me while her friends snickered and
talked behind their hands in the hallways. My ghost friend didn’t
write to me, which was upsetting, but I figured that meant he
approved of what I’d done with the letter. Each time I washed my
hands or took a shower the heart on my hand faded a little bit more
until Eileen was missing some loops of her name and the heart was
incomplete.

School ended on Friday, and I couldn’t shake
how disappointed I was that my letter hadn’t been received yet. I
had hoped to take Bethany out on Saturday night. Now it looked like
that wasn’t even a remote possibility. I went to work and had to
force a smile with all the happy teenage couples eating hamburgers
in their cars before going to Friday night dates at the movies
together. I even told Miguel I didn’t feel well and asked if I
could go home early. He didn’t let me, though, because we were
short-staffed. I had to stick it out all the way until 12:00.

Just as we were closing up the registers, one
final car pulled into a space. A blue Prius just like Bethany’s. I
blinked and looked again. No, it couldn’t be.

“I got it,” I told everyone. I flung off my
skates and loaded up a large size chocolate shake to take out to
her. I got to her window and tapped. She hadn’t lowered it to order
or anything. At the sound of my tapping she turned her head, and I
saw that her face was wet with tears. She put down her window, and
then I could see my letter, open, in the passenger seat.

“This is for you,” I said. “Looks like you
could use it.”

She smiled at me and took the shake like I’d
just given her a diamond. “I might need some napkins again.”

“Hey, the letter wasn’t supposed to make you
cry,” I told her, pulling some out from the pocket on my shirt for
her and then stepping back while she cleaned her face.

“I know,” she said. “I’m being stupid. I’ve
been stupid all week.”

“No you haven’t.”

“Look, Mark,” she said and put both her hands
on the steering wheel to steady herself. “I thought we had
something really special over Winter Break, and then when school
started, you acted just like every other jerky guy in school with
your lame texts. That’s not who I thought you were, and I was kind
of bummed out.”

“I said I was sorry for that,” I offered.

“I know. You wrote that weird note on my
wall.”

“You thought that was weird?”

“Kind of.” She shrugged. “I mean it was
sweet, but it was just a little uncomfortable. Plus, Lance saw it,
and he was so pissed off about it. He came over to my house that
night.”

“I heard about that.”

“Did you?” she asked. “What did you
hear?”

“Well, he told me that you were still his
girlfriend and to back off.”

She tapped my note on the passenger seat. “I
guess you decided not to believe him.”

“Was he telling me the truth? Did you go back
to him?”

“No. He’s lying.” The lights of the hub went
off behind me. Bethany flicked her eyes at the distraction and then
back at me. “Are you off work?”

“I just have to clock out.” I put up my
finger for her to wait for me, and then I jogged back over to the
hub. Miguel was locking the door, all my stuff on the ground by his
feet. He gave me a wink and patted me on the shoulder before
leaving. I slipped my tennis shoes over my sock feet and jogged
back to my girl.

At least I hoped that’s what she was about to
tell me she was.

Like last time, she invited me to sit in her
car with her while the world got still around us. She told me that
Lance came over after my post on her wall and started yelling at
her while they stood on her front porch.

“All my neighbors could hear him. He told me
I was cheating on him and called you a hundred different names.
When I finally got him to calm down, mostly because my dad came out
the front door and asked if there was a problem, Lance told me that
he didn’t know we had broken up. I guess that was my fault, because
I never called him after the party to officially tell him we were
through. I kind of thought he’d figure it out by my storming out of
the party that night and never speaking to him again. He’s not that
clever, though.”

“So, does he know now?” I asked.

Bethany took a long draw on her shake before
answering. “He tried to convince me to stay with him. He apologized
for the party and said he was being stupid that night. Said he’d
never act like that again and to give him another chance. I said I
didn’t believe him. If he was like that with his friends at a
Christmas party, how would he behave at prom or a graduation party?
What if he joined a fraternity in college? I can handle my friends
drinking if that’s what they want to do, but I don’t want to be
pressured like that, and I don’t want a slobbery, drunk, rude
boyfriend.”

I wanted to say something right then to the
fact that I was not a big drinker myself. That I’d only had a beer
once in a while with my dad while watching football. But that
seemed like a lame thing to say, so I held back. I wished I had
some advice from my ghost friend right then. Where were the little
yellow notes? Come to think of it, had I ever gotten one away from
school? Was that the only place he could haunt me?

Bethany went on talking. “Lance left after
that. I haven’t talked to him since, but word got around pretty
fast that he and I were over. All my friends started bugging me
about it, especially Lissy and Kat. They told me how broken-hearted
Lance was—that he was moping around school like a lost puppy. They
wanted me to go back to him because he and I were such a good fit
together. And they were both really insistent that I stay away from
you. I’m not going to lie. I wondered if they were right. That’s
why I kept my distance all week. I needed time to think. I mean, we
don’t have anything in common, and you’re going in the army after
school gets out. I’m going to college. We won’t see each other.
What’s the point?”

I was quiet for a moment before I spoke,
trying not to sound as shaky as I felt. “So, is that why you’re
here? To tell me to stay away?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

She glanced at my letter, now on the
dashboard between us, and then looked me squarely in the face. “I
think you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re the
only one who understands what I need. You know how to listen, and
you make me feel so safe. Your letter helped me see that you are
more than you seem.” She leaned toward me and kissed me softly.
With her face still close to me, she whispered, “And I think I love
you.”

The overwhelming joy that filled me is hard
to express. It was like my whole body became ignited. I wanted to
pull her tight in my arms and kiss her until our lips stopped
working, but I only kissed her once, tenderly, before I pulled back
and smiled. She needed the ‘friend’ part of ‘boyfriend’ right then.
I could be that for her. Making out was for another time. We talked
in the parking lot for two hours, went home and got on the phone
and talked again until we fell asleep.

9

I couldn’t stand to wait until Monday to
receive a note from my ghost friend. If he didn’t know already, I
wanted to tell him what happened between Bethany and me. I wanted
to thank him. I cleaned up and headed over to school. Someone would
be there, I was certain. The school’s dance team often practiced on
Saturday mornings, and there was always some kind of ACT type test
going on. I noticed as I drove that the ink heart on my hand was
nearly faded off. One more day and it would be completely gone.

I snuck into the school through a door near
the small gym, a space reserved for the cheerleaders, dancers and
show choir that had mirrors on the walls and a hardwood floor. The
girls mostly ignored me as I sneaked behind them. They were busy
learning a combination of steps. Over in the corner, Lissy stood
with another girl taking sips from her water bottle and checking
her phone messages. I guess she wasn’t in that part of the dance.
She saw me and sneered. I grinned at her and blew her a kiss. She
looked disgusted, and I heard the other girl ask, “Who’s that?” as
I went through the opposite door into the main gym. I resisted the
urge to march over to the girls and say, “I’m Bethany’s new
boyfriend. That’s who I am.” They’d find out soon enough.

I zipped through the empty hallways of the
school, aiming for my British Lit classroom. Thankfully the door
wasn’t locked, because I was certain my best shot for finding a
note from my ghost friend was going to be where I found it in the
first place. I was right. The yellow piece of paper was waiting for
me on that old desk in the back of the room. The writing on it
seemed to be fading, as if his ghostly pen was running out of
ink.

You’ve done it, son. I’m so happy and proud
of you. I wish I could have been a bigger part of your life than
this, but I’m glad to have done something to help you. Now, I need
one thing from you.

A sealed envelope was suddenly in my hand
behind the note I was reading. My friend gave me directions of what
he wanted done with it.

Fading. Must go.

“Will I hear from you again?”

No.

“What if I need you? To help me with Bethany?
I don’t want to make any mistakes. How do I do that without
you?”