“I’ll go call her from the pay phone,” I said. I hadn’t had time to procure my, as of today, perfectly legal cell phone.
Scarlet picked up on the fifth ring. “Where are you?” I asked.
“Gable was supposed to watch Felix, but he never showed up. I can’t make it. You guys should go to the play without me. I’m really sorry, Annie,” Scarlet said.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said.
“I am worried about it. It’s your birthday, and I wanted to see the play. Can I come meet you later? We’ll dance or have drinks.”
“Honestly, I’ve been working since six in the morning. I’ll probably go home and go to bed.”
“Happy birthday, my love,” Scarlet said.
The play Scarlet had chosen was about an old man and a young woman who switch bodies with each other at a wedding. The young woman’s husband has to learn to love the young woman, even though she’s in the old man’s body. And in the end, everyone learns a lot of lessons about love and acceptance and how it doesn’t matter what body you’re in. It was romantic, and I was not in the mood for a romance, which you’d think Scarlet could have guessed.
When the actors took their bows, they were given a standing ovation, but I stayed in my seat. Romance was a lie. It was so much of a lie that it made me angry. Romance was hormones and fiction. “Boo,” I whispered. “Boo to this whole stupid play.” No one heard me. There was too much applause. I could boo all I wanted and I found this liberating.
And the worst part was I didn’t even like the theater. Scarlet liked the theater and she hadn’t bothered to show up. And it wasn’t the first time she’d missed an appointment with me either. I honestly didn’t know why I bothered making plans with her anymore. “Boo to Scarlet. Boo to the theater.”
Noriko was weeping and clapping like a crazy person. “I miss Leo,” she said. “I miss Leo so much.”
Maybe Noriko did miss Leo, but in that moment, I was skeptical. They barely spoke the same language. They had known each other a little over a month when they decided to marry. And we were talking about my brother. He was a nice person, but … I’d been working with Noriko the whole summer. She was smart and, not to be mean, Leo was not.
I defrosted some peas and was about to close the chapter on my unmemorable eighteenth birthday when the phone rang.
“Anya, this is Miss Bellevoir.” Kathleen Bellevoir was Natty’s math teacher at Holy Trinity, but in the summer she worked at genius camp. “There’s some trouble with Natty up here, and I wanted to let you know that she’s going to be home tomorrow.”
I put my hand over my heart. “What’s wrong? Is she sick?”
“Oh no, nothing like that. But there has been an incident. Several incidents, I should say. Everyone on staff has decided that it’s best if she comes home early. The purpose of my call is to ensure you’ll be there when she arrives.”
“What kind of incidents?” I asked.
All the Things Natty Had Done
1. Failed to participate in science and math labs
2. Generally disrespected staff and other campers
3. Was caught with chocolate on the campus
4. Was caught in a boy’s room after hours
5. Snuck out of camp, stole the camp’s van, and drove it into a ditch
The last and latest incident had marked the official end of genius camp’s patience.
“Is she hurt?” I asked.
“Bumps and bruises. The van made out less well. I love your sister, and she had such a success here last summer that everyone, myself included, tried to ignore it when she started having trouble. I probably should have called you sooner.”
I wanted to yell at Miss Bellevoir for not watching Natty closely enough, but I knew this wasn’t rational. I bit my lip, which was chapped and began to bleed.
Natty arrived at the apartment at six the next night, which was a Sunday. My sister was pretty banged up. She had bruises on her cheek and forehead and a deep cut on her chin. “Oh, Natty,” I said.
She opened her arms as if to hug me, but then her face morphed into a snarl. “For God’s sake, Annie, don’t look at me that way. You’re not my mother.” She stalked to her bedroom and slammed the door.
I gave her ten minutes before I knocked.
“Go away!”
I turned the knob, which was locked. “Natty, we need to talk about what happened.”
“Since when do you want to talk? Aren’t you Miss Stiff Upper Lip? Miss Keep Everything Inside?”
I picked the lock on Natty’s door with the nail we kept over Leo’s (now Noriko’s) room.
“Go away! Can’t you please leave me alone?”
“I can’t,” I said.
She pulled the blanket over her head.
“What happened this summer?”
She didn’t answer.
I had not gone into her room for a while. It was like two people lived there: a child and a young woman. There were bras and dolls, perfume and crayons. One of Win’s hats, a gray fedora, hung from a hook on the wall. She had always liked his hats. Next to the mirror was a periodic table, and I noticed that she had circled some of the elements.
“What do the circles mean?” I asked.
“They’re my favorite ones.”
“How do you choose?”
She emerged from under the covers. “Hydrogen and oxygen are pretty obvious. They make water, which is the source of life, if you care about that kind of thing. I like Na, sodium, and Ba, barium, because those are my initials.” She pointed to Ar, which wasn’t circled. “Argon is totally inert. Nothing affects it, and it has a hard time forming chemical compounds, i.e., having relationships. It’s a loner. It doesn’t ask for anything from anybody. It reminds me of you.”
“Natty, that isn’t true. Things affect me. I’m upset right now.”
“Are you? It’s hard to tell, Argon,” Natty said.
“Maybe the point is, it doesn’t matter what happened to you at camp. Summer is summer. Summer is never real life anyway.”
“It isn’t?”
I shook my head. “You had a bad summer. That’s all. School starts in a couple weeks. It’s your junior year, and I think it’s going to be a great one for you.”
“Okay,” she said after a while.
“I’ve got to go to the club, but I’ll be back later,” I said.
“Can I come?”
“Some other time,” I said. “I think you should rest up tonight. You look terrible, by the way.”
“I think I look tough.”
“Troubled maybe.”
“Criminal. A real Balanchine.”
I kissed Natty on the forehead. I had never been good with words. On the path from my heart to my brain to my mouth, phrases became twisted and hopelessly convoluted. The intent—what I meant to say—never quite made it out. My heart thought, I love you. My brain warned, How embarrassing. How foolish. How dangerous. My mouth said, Please go away, or worse, it made some senseless joke. I knew I needed to do better for Natty in this moment. “No, you’re nothing like that,” I said. “You’re the smartest, best girl in the world.”
Instead of taking the bus, I walked to the club. It was after dark and a bit late to be walking alone, but even Argon the Seemingly Unaffected sometimes needed to clear her head. I was halfway there, almost to Columbus Circle, when it began to rain. My hair frizzed, but I didn’t care. I loved New York City in the rain. The rotten smells faded, and the sidewalks looked almost clean. Colorful umbrellas sprouted like upside-down tulips, and the windows of the empty skyscrapers shone, if only for the night. In the rain, it did not seem possible that we might run out of water, or that anyone you loved could truly be gone forever. I believed in the rain.