Nightingale Page 9

  I’m going to die here, she knew in her gut. Something is not right, and I am going to die. We all are.

  The other girls at the table knew it, too, June suspected, including Eleanor, maybe even especially Eleanor. They had already gone back to their usual strange chitchat, and it was as if Lauren was no longer there at all. June could sense the cords that had been severed, cords connecting each of the girls to their lost friend, never to be heard from again, even though she was sitting among them, technically alive.

  She did catch Eleanor shooting a pained look back Lauren’s way when they were all leaving, though, her face wistful, and it made June’s heart ache. They’d all been there for years, those girls, and it was very clear that none of them fully remembered or yearned for whatever their lives had been like before they came to this place.

  How long would it be until June forgot? As she scuffled in her slippers through the hallways and toward the recreation room with Eleanor, walking so closely to her that their hands kept bumping, she feared that it would be very soon indeed.

  days past

  The school week had been filled to the brim with mundane homework assignments and moments spent alone on the bleachers, so June was happy when it was Saturday at last.

  After lots of pondering about what she thought of herself and what she wanted for herself, June decided that tonight was the night she would finally break things off with Robert. Her hesitation before had only been rooted in feelings of self-doubt, and she was proud of herself for being able to recognize that. Who cared about what Robert thought? He was boring, plain and simple, and if June stayed with him she feared her future would be much the same.

  The business deal had been closed for months now, definitely long enough in her opinion to warrant a split without causing a complete ruckus from Mr. Dennings. Her own father would be a whole other story, she knew, but as long as the only person capable of actually breaking up the business didn’t mind, then their family would be okay, and Dad could continue on his new and improved path. Business was booming. Both men were happy. The silly relationship between Robert and June didn’t matter anymore.

  That was why Dad would get over it eventually. He’d have to, right? She was his daughter, for goodness’ sake.

  She reviewed her appearance in the mirror, the night air fragrant and lovely as it whispered in through her open window. She wore a plain white blouse with a pink poodle skirt, which certainly made her feel like a dressed-up poodle, but she knew that Robert had always wanted to see her in one, and this would be his last chance. She swung each hip back and forth, causing the skirt to lift and swirl around her legs, rather liking the feeling.

  Next she applied a thick layer of a vivid red lipstick that reminded her of the beautiful models dressed as nurses in advertisements for aspirin or what have you. They ought to call this shade Nurse Betty Red, she thought before carelessly tossing it back onto her dresser.

  Ordinarily, June wouldn’t have given a damn about what Robert thought of her outfit, but the truth was that even though she didn’t love him, she didn’t wish him ill will or any sort of pain over their breakup. She suspected that he took them pretty seriously as a couple, and he was probably going to be really upset when she broke the news to him.

  So hopefully the poodle skirt could make it a bit easier, or maybe it’d be the little black scarf that June tied around her neck that would help soften the blow. The scarf she enjoyed. She could pretend she was wearing it to hide a scar from an imaginary decapitation incident, in which the aliens from her beloved story had to reattach her head through cauterization. If the scarf was removed, everybody would know her secret.

  “June,” Mom’s voice rose up from downstairs, cheerful in a way that revealed that Robert was already here and inside. “Robert’s here to pick you up for your date!”

  What would Mom say when June returned home and told her about Robert? Her stomach felt uncomfortably heavy at the thought. There would be screaming, for sure, maybe an impassioned slap or two, definitely slews of personal insults against June. No matter how intense the reaction would be, June hoped with everything she had that, when all was said and done, Mom would agree to break the news to Dad. June would cry, beg, whatever it took. The idea of doing it herself made her stomach now feel watery.

  “Coming!” she called brightly, ready to please the pants off of all of them in order to lay the groundwork for later, or so she hoped. She hopped down the stairs and shot them smiles, Mom and Robert and Dad, as they all stood there near the front door and looked up at her in amazement.

  “June!” Mom exclaimed, her hand on her chest. “I have never seen you in a poodle skirt, honey. And that scarf!”

  Everything will be okay, June knew once she heard that. She’s pleased with me now. That means it’s possible she won’t be mad for long.

  “You are a vision, Junebug,” Dad agreed, swatting her on the back a few times as though he was trying to burp her. “You lovebirds have fun tonight.”

  “We will,” she blurted, immediately regretting it. Don’t push it too far.

  And that’s when she realized that she already had. What had she been thinking, dolling up like this? If she’d come down the stairs unbathed and unkempt and unwilling to make eye contact, at least maybe they could all start mentally preparing themselves for bad news. Still, she knew that being her messy, unlovable self in front of Robert would be like the ultimate betrayal to Dad—it’d humiliate him and paint the wrong kind of picture of his family—an unforgivable offense. So at least she was dodging that bullet.

  “You look stunning,” Robert remarked after the front door had closed behind them, and they made their way across the lawn to where his convertible was parked. “What shall we do tonight? I thought maybe we could grab some shakes and fries and take a drive.”

  “Can we bring them to the lookout point?” June asked, immediately feeling the need to clarify that there would be no making out involved. “I thought we could look at the stars and talk.”

  “Oh, that sounds lovely.” Robert hopped off the curb in a cheerful little way that made a bud of dread bloom inside June. “I would love to.”

  June found herself trying to delay everything. She insisted they go inside instead of using the drive-through to order, and then waited until after their food was ready to announce she needed to use the ladies’ room. She wiped off all of her lipstick and then reapplied it again. She powdered her nose. She fluffed out her curls.

  “There you are,” Robert said after she reappeared. “I was about to have one of the other ladies go in to check up on you.”

  “That’s sweet,” she answered, believing nothing of the sort. “I just wanted to freshen up a bit.”

  “No worries, darling,” he said, and she hated him for being so goddamn proper, making it harder on her like this. “Let’s get going already. There aren’t any clouds in the sky tonight. It’ll be perfect for stargazing.”

  June felt hot and sticky with sweat. She held the bag of soggy french fries on her lap as they drove to the outskirts of town, one milkshake in her hand and another in between her knees. Robert went on about his day at work, but she paid no attention, instead resting her head against the headrest and taking in the sight of the streets at night. She hummed a tune under her breath, low enough that Robert couldn’t hear it. Everything would be all right.

  When they arrived, she marveled at the sight of their town from above, all twinkly and small, while she ate the greasy fries and sipped the cold, chocolaty thickness of her shake. When she was done, she finished off the rest of Robert’s fries, as well as his shake. He watched her, almost aghast at first, and she thought, Good. Let him be disgusted by me. But by the time she took the last noisy slurp from the white paper cup, he was smiling again.

  “You’re one of a kind, June, that’s for sure.” His grin turned wicked, and she knew for a fact that he was thinking about that ni
ght in her bedroom. She could almost go for that again, but only if she’d never see him again afterward, so it really wasn’t an option.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she blurted, ready for this to end already. “About...us.”

  “So have I,” he said, stopping her from continuing. “I think we’re quite the pair. I could really see you as being an interesting wife.” He looked at her body shyly, before forcing his gaze away. “And a very pretty one, at that.”

  Despite her situation, she couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant over his words. Hear that, Mom? she thought. He thinks I’m pretty. Not so homely after all, huh?

  “That’s just the thing, darling,” she said, closing her eyes painfully at her awkward use of the pet name. Jesus, she was nervous. “I have a hard time seeing us as spouses. I’m not sure why, I just...can’t imagine it.”

  Please let it be this easy, she begged the stars, willing for Robert to nod knowingly and offer to drive her home.

  Would he ever be violent with her? She wondered it in a completely random flash, and her heart fluttered nervously. She’d never considered that before now, but here she was, about to cancel his planned future with her, and they were all alone at the lookout point with nobody to hear her scream if things went poorly. Don’t be ridiculous, she scolded herself. You have no reason to fear Robert.

  “Don’t be silly,” he said, his smile still as carefree as ever. “Of course you can imagine it. We’ve talked about it so many times—don’t you remember? You could imagine it then.”

  “Yes,” she tried, suddenly sick from all the food. “But, you see, I really just can’t anymore. I think I want to travel a little bit instead of live at home as a wife. And also, it’s about my writing. It’s not just a hobby, it’s... I want to do it for a living. And I don’t care how unlikely that is.”

  She felt herself going on and on, revealing too much, explaining things as though she were obligated to. When she finished, he just stared at her as if waiting for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he set his hand heavily on her knee.

  “Thank you for telling me how you really feel,” he said with earnest. “It’s clear to me now how much of a dreamer you are, June, and I think that must be one of the things I really love about you the most. It makes you special, do you see? It sets you apart.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that, or how to react. She opted to stay silent, already feeling like she’d said too much without cause.

  “You said you want to travel,” Robert went on. “Well, I would be happy to arrange little trips for us here and there. Anniversaries, birthdays, we could go to the next town over for a day or so. We’ll travel together, do you see?”

  She didn’t see. Did he even know what travel was?

  “And about your writing,” he went on. “Well, I see no reason why you can’t continue doing it however you like, assuming of course you find the time outside of your other things.”

  Things, another word for duties, June knew. It was miraculous how much he assumed that things would be a certain way between them. That she’d be a certain way. He spoke as though there were no other option. It was the same way her family talked, too. It made her feel so strange, like she was living in a snow globe, unaware that she was just a porcelain girl frozen in time.

  “Listen,” Robert said, taking her hand. “I can see you’re thinking things over in your head, darling. There’s nothing to worry about. There’s no pressure for marriage. We’ll wait until it’s time, and for now let’s just continue to enjoy each other. You do enjoy me, right?” She looked up to find his eyes boring into hers.

  What could she say? No? He was too goddamn thick to understand it. He was a machine, built to entrap June, to keep her from her real destiny, whatever that may have been. She hadn’t thought it would be possible for the roots to creep as deep as they had in such a short time. She had only agreed to date him because Dad had made her for the business deal. Things had gotten too out of hand, and he certainly wasn’t going to make ripping herself away easy.

  Because she would, she promised herself, right then and there. She would get away from Robert and this entire mess somehow.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice flat. “Of course I do. You’re my sweetheart, Robert. I’m just not ready to become a wife and won’t be for a long time.”

  “We will wait until you’re ready,” he assured her. “You have my word.”

  Good, she thought, relief making her chest swell. I’ll just simply never be ready. And then one day, I’ll be gone.

  She looked out over the town, looked at the reaches of outer space twinkling very far above. June had always loved this spot, even as a little girl. She used to sneak out after bedtime and ride Fred’s bicycle for a full hour to get here, and then spend entire nights lying awake on a blanket in the grass, gazing into the stars and the Milky Way as if there were someone there watching back. She thought about the weird blinking light in the distance that looked like it was attached to some sort of hovering aircraft; how she’d convinced herself that aliens were real; how she believed that if she came out to this spot enough times and waved to the strange light they’d take her up into space with them and help her fulfill her destiny.

  Now all she could think about was how badly she wanted to go home and work on her story, forget all about Robert and fall back into her weird, personalized land of make-believe. Let Robert look down on her as much as he wanted to. She would find a way to break free before long anyway.

  At the end of the night, Robert kissed her on the lips. She could feel in the embrace that he was desperate to keep her. In the front hall, Mom and Dad greeted them and asked how the night had gone. Robert, his mouth embarrassingly smeared with lipstick, said that it had gone wonderfully, shook hands with Dad, and left. Mom followed June like a puppy as she went into the kitchen for a glass of milk and some cookies, going on and on about how great June looked and how nice it was that she was finally getting the feel for things by dating and “acting her age.”

  After June had finished the cookies, she told her parents she was going to bed, went into her bedroom, and wrote three full chapters for her story, all by hand, so as not to make noise with the typewriter. It took all night.

  days past

  A letter arrived for June a short time later. She’d made a habit of getting the mail every day, which pleased her parents and allowed her to see everything that came in before anyone else. Even though months had passed since she’d sent in her application, June couldn’t bring herself to give up hope, refused to accept the failure. When she saw the envelope addressed to J. Hardie one warm Saturday in late spring, she slipped it down the front of her blouse smoothly and quickly, as though she’d anticipated finding it in the pile of mail all along.

  But she hadn’t anticipated it, not even a little bit. And now her answer was here, for better or for worse, and June had to fight not to run back inside and up to her room, instead strolling back up the driveway as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She made herself keep her easy pace as she dropped the remaining mail off on the coffee table for Dad, even refilling his drink and bowl of pretzels for good measure before quietly slipping upstairs.

  Once the bedroom door was locked behind her, all bets were off. June nearly tore open her blouse in an effort to get the envelope out. There was a single page inside, which worried her, because surely if it was good news there’d be more information than what would fit on one sheet. Her hands trembled as she unfolded the letter.

  Just a few nights prior, she’d told herself that if she didn’t get into the program, it was a sign from the universe to keep on going down the path that she was already on and succumb to the idea of one day marrying Robert. The idea of having to swallow such a verdict here, today, now, made her throat constrict as if she was going to cry, or scream, or both. She would take back the stupid little deal she’d made with herself—no one
piece of paper should have such a massive influence on how she was going to live her life.

  Unless, of course, the piece of paper said what she wanted it to say. It had been put into the typewriter and thus produced crookedly.

  The warmest of hellos to you, J. Hardie. Your unsettling prose and clear distaste for certain aspects of American culture caused your application to shine bright among the other entries we received. You have been awarded a full scholarship to our program that will begin this summer, on the first of July.

  Please respond within two weeks so we can confirm your acceptance and have our secretary send you an information packet. This will include plans for your travel, as well as details about the retreat grounds. All expenses during your stay, including food, will be taken care of. We look forward to shaking your hand and sharing perspectives over cigars in the Common Room after dark.

  Best regards,

  Bill Lancaster

  June let out a mad little giggle of disbelief. She’d really done it! She’d found a way to leave and go somewhere exciting, and write and write without needing a single goddamn dime. It’d worked out! She read the letter over and over again, always having a laugh at the line about sharing perspectives over cigars in the Common Room after dark. What a stale, old idiot that Bill Lancaster sounded like! And yet, she didn’t care.

  She didn’t care that she had partly lied in her application, speaking as though from the perspective of a man. She’d dress like one if she had to while she was there. She could easily pull it off with her face and figure.

  She also did not care that Mom and Dad and Fred and Robert were all going to go completely ape over this. The program was months long, and it didn’t start until after graduation. There’d be nothing they could do about it once she was gone; she’d leave a vague note that would let them know she wasn’t dead but not much more than that. They’d have all the time in the world to calm down about it.