Nan's Story (7 page)

Crash.
Nan didn’t know which piece of furniture had met its end this time, but it was joined by three or four others. Alone in her bed, she silently pleaded for her mother to just stop talking. She was horrified to hear what her father had done and confused anger buzzed through her body. However these feelings were muted by fear that her mother would push him too far and maybe even get hurt. Nan balled up the blankets in her fists and tried to stuff them in her ears, but it didn’t completely drown out the hateful words and the occasional sound of something breaking that seemed to go on for hours. When it was all over, by the light of day, Elsie broke the news to Buddy that he wouldn’t be able to go to camp after all.

“Nah, I’m not goin’,” Buddy said to Butch in a voice struggling to keep composure. “My pop had other ideas.”

Nan wanted to cry for the third time that day.

Buddy lit another cigarette and she saw a look of understanding pass between he and Charlie.

Fathers,
it said.
Who needs ‘em.

A few minutes later more kids showed up and they finally had enough to start the game. Nan couldn’t wait to get out of the stifling fort and into the cool outdoors. She also hoped that the game would make Buddy feel better. The pained look on his face was almost more than she could bear.

Nan followed the boys back along the path, noting that the air had taken on the sharp smell of impending snow. She thought maybe they’d have an hour or so before it got going, at least enough time for two or three innings. She stopped at the playground while the boys continued on to the field. Buddy turned and yelled to her.

“Stay put, you hear?”

Nan rolled her eyes and walked over to the swings without answering. She started to feel chilly and realized with irritation that she’d left her coat at the fort. Looking toward the path from which they’d just emerged and then up at the ball field where the boys had all assumed their positions, Nan concluded Buddy would be steamed if he had to waste more time walking her back. So she decided to go on her own.

Entering the woods on the now somewhat familiar trail, she took the first fork correctly. A few more turns and Nan had to admit she was just guessing. Five minutes later, she was lost. Fighting the urge to scream for help, Nan kept walking along looking for clues as to the right way to go. For all she knew the tree line was just up ahead. Her mother’s words from that morning about taking stock of her situation replayed in her head.

It was broad daylight, and for that she was thankful. If dark had been looming she might have all out panicked. But the fact remained that snow was coming. The sky was the color of lead and Nan knew she needed to find her way back
tout de suite
, as Elsie would say.

She didn’t know how much time passed before coming upon a break in the forest, beyond which lay the river. Nan couldn’t quite tell where she was, but welcomed the familiar sight of the water and the sense of place it gave her. She figured once she got to the edge, she’d be able to get a fix on her location by the shoreline across from her. As she neared where the trees thinned and the ground sloped sharply, the pine needles that had threatened to trip her up earlier made good and
boom,
down she went. She landed on her behind and began sliding recklessly toward the churning white caps. Her feet did their best to put on the brakes, but it was no use on the slick needles and Nan screamed as she slipped over the embankment.

The drop, much like behind the house, was jagged and long to the water. Unlike Nan’s backyard though, there was a wide, flat ledge of rock about six feet below and Nan landed on it hard, feet first. The crash sent a searing pain through her right ankle, but she was so relieved not to have hit the water that she could only sputter “oh thank God” repeatedly.

Now what, she wondered. She tried to picture what Nancy Drew might do in the situation, what tricks she might have up her sleeve. It didn’t do much to change anything, but it at least gave her something to focus on.

Relax,
she told herself.
Don’t freak out.

Eventually a boat or a barge would come up the river, and if they had to, they would rescue her. Sure, her mother would go bonkers, but Nan was hopeful that between her injured ankle and how badly Elsie felt about Buddy, she might just escape the wooden spoon.

Okay, it’ll be okay, she said aloud.

An ugly thought struck her. What if
no
barges go by? Or what if it’s snowing by then and they don’t see her?
Now
what would Nancy Drew do? Nan couldn’t think of a thing and panic propelled her to her feet. She was knocked back down by a sharp crack of pain in her ankle. The reality of her plight, that she could actually die on this ledge threatened to make her scream.

I won’t think of that, I will NOT think of that.

Instead she wrapped her arms around her left leg pulling it up close to her in an attempt to stay warm. Nan wished that she could have at least gotten lost
after
she’d retrieved her jacket. The wind was brisk and she laid her forehead down on her knee and began to cry.

As Nan started to shiver uncontrollably, voices nearby startled her. She recognized Buddy’s immediately and was flooded with relief.

“Here!” she yelled from her spot on the ledge. “I’m down here!” Nan shouted again louder, afraid that they might not have heard her.

Buddy’s head, alongside Charlie’s, popped over the edge above her like gophers from an upside-down hole.

“What the hell, Nan!” Buddy yelled. “What are you doing down there?”

“I fell,” she replied, wondering if he really thought she was stupid enough to have gotten here on purpose.

“Take my hand and I’ll pull you up!” he said, sticking his arm down over the side as far as he could reach. Nan tried to stand up, but her ankle gave way again and she sank back down.

“I can’t,” she moaned, tears spilling over her bottom lids. “I hurt my ankle.”

“Wait just a minute!” Buddy said frantically, hopping up from his spot. Nan could faintly hear Charlie talking and then Buddy leaned back over the ledge.

“Listen Nan,” he started, and she strained to hear him in the whipping wind. “I’m stronger, so I’m gonna hold onto Charlie’s feet and he can lean far enough to reach you. When he gets close, grab on!”

Nan played out the scene in her head a million different ways and each time she saw herself careening over the ledge and into the swirling water below. She saw tentacles of seaweed floating near the surface of the bitter cold river and imagined them grabbing on to her and pulling her under.

“I can’t Buddy! I’ll fall!” Nan shouted, terror working its way into her voice.

Buddy started to argue with her and Nan could tell his patience was wearing thin.

Lying on his stomach, head jutting out over the edge next to Buddy’s, Charlie called to her.

“Look at me,” he said to Nan in a firm voice that calmed her somewhat. “I swear I won’t let go. Do you understand me?” Charlie asked.

“I know you won’t
mean
to,” Nan said, sure of her impending fate.

“Your brother has to hold on to my feet, ‘cause I’m not strong enough to hold his. But I
am
strong enough to pull
you
up. I’m one-hundred percent sure of that. Trust me?”

Nan thought about what he was asking and wasn’t sure she
could
trust him. Fear immobilized her and she had to fight it to answer Charlie.

“You promise you won’t drop me?” she asked, her lower lip trembling.

“I
promise
,” he told her in an unwavering voice. “Just hold on tight.”

Buddy grabbed Charlie’s ankles, using one of the twisted roots in the ground to secure himself at the top. Charlie let his upper body come all the way over the edge, bending at the hips and dropping his hands down far enough to reach Nan’s. He pulled her into a standing position, telling her to let her good ankle bear the weight. Once on her feet, he grasped her firmly under the armpits and began, with Buddy pulling his ankles, to wriggle her back up the ledge. Nan held on to Charlie’s elbows and it occurred to her that his hands were clasped across her non-existent breasts. She was momentarily horrified.

At last she was on solid ground, and she quickly crawled on her hands and knees away from the ledge. Nan wiped her eyes furiously with the backs of her hands, devastated that her brother and Charlie had seen her cry so hard. But they were more concerned about her injured foot and figuring out how to get her home than her tears.

They settled on a two-part plan.

Nan rode piggyback on Buddy as they trekked to the fort for her jacket and then up to the field. Once they got there, Buddy helped her onto the back of Charlie’s bicycle and he rode her home. Aware of the pain in her ankle and to keep pace with Nan’s brothers, Charlie peddled the bike gentle and slow, without ever losing his balance.

With her arms clasped loosely around his waist Nan thought about what Charlie had done. He was stronger than she had given him credit for and if he hadn’t kept hold of her, she surely would have fallen into the water, and maybe taken him with her. His bravery made Nan’s throat tighten, especially in light of the roller coaster day it had been.

“Okay, here’s the scoop,” Buddy said as they neared their street. “You fell off the merry go ‘round and we were right there to help you.
Capiche
?”

“Yup,” she said without hesitation. It was the perfect cover up and would keep them all out of trouble, at least on this cold spring day. They had no way of knowing what new challenges awaited them in the future.

Charlie held the bike steady as Buddy helped Nan off when they arrived at the house.

“Thanks man,” Buddy said, clapping Charlie on the back. “I owe you a big one.”

“Nah…well on second thought, how about you spit shine my shoes,” Charlie replied wiggling his well worn sneaker in front of them.

“Get outta’ here,” Buddy laughed and put one arm around Nan.

As Charlie rode up the street, peddling fast enough for his thin coat to billow out behind him, Nan yelled.

“Thank you Charlie!”

Without turning back, he simply waved one arm over his head and peddled faster.

Chapter 4

What a beautiful day for a wedding. A parade of soft, lush clouds that never dared once to block the sun meandered across the brilliant blue sky. It was a few degrees warmer than the day before and the doors of the church were chocked open, inviting the last hints of Indian summer inside. Light spilled through the doorway igniting the sapphire and ruby stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscopic swirl around the room.

Nan made her way toward the altar, carefully pacing her steps to the notes of Pachelbel’s
‘Canon’
. She deliberately kept her eyes from scanning the faces sitting in the pews and instead watched CJ watch her. She was nervous and tired after a night filled with stretches of sleeplessness punctuated by snatches of disjointed dreams.

Nan thought she’d successfully kept a poker face after Arthur’s announcement about Charlie at dinner the evening before and had held back from the excited chatter that ensued, especially once Arthur told them he’d invited their friend to the wedding. Nan had made herself wait until she was in the privacy of her bedroom before letting herself sift through memories of Charlie and now, by the light of day, she found it hard to think of anything else.

In hindsight, she should have been paying attention to the task at hand, and for not, she paid with her pride. Absorbed in her restlessness, Nan didn’t notice the slight gap in the white linen runner where two pieces came together before the toe of her shoe became snagged in it. She tilted precariously to the right and her arms flew up in a reflexive attempt to regain her balance. Nearly losing grip on the rose and gardenia filled nosegay she carried, her right elbow hit the back of a pew with a loud thunking sound. Her mother, sitting in the front, looked at her with unrestrained horror. Using her arm for leverage, Nan managed to stay on her feet and resumed her stride, though panting and with heart pounding.

Elsie gave Nan the ‘slow down’ sign as if it had been her speed that caused the near fall. In the hand her mother waved toward her, a white handkerchief fluttered moth-like with the motion, conjuring up the notion of surrender. Nan’s cheeks, already bright pink from her gaffe, reddened deeper. She was incredibly dismayed by her clumsiness, knowing that Charlie must have seen it if he was indeed here. Nan raised her eyebrows and clenched her jaw firmly, silently begging Elsie to stop. Her mother’s hand sank, a deflating balloon, coming to rest on her lap.

Despite the warmth of the day and the early hour, Elsie wore a black Pierre Cardin two-piece. On anyone else the fitted suit jacket and long skirt, topped off by a wide brim twill hat might look extravagant, but on Nan’s mother, it looked exactly right. The elegance of the outfit was in stark contrast to the brooding look on Elsie’s face though. Beside her mother, Joe wore a dark pinstripe suit and a pinched expression. As Nan walked by the two of them, she wished fleetingly that she could pass gas on command.

Nan reached the altar and turned back toward the pews, keeping her eyes downcast and focused on counting the nubs of baby’s breath in her bouquet. Still embarrassed, she fought the urge to rub her bumped elbow, glad it was hidden under the long satin gloves she wore. Given the throbbing, Nan imagined that it was red and swollen, and wondered if it might be fractured. Bruised or broken, she knew her brothers were going to have a field day with this one.