Loe raamatut: «Red Leaves»

CHAPTER ONE
Sunday

The four friends had been playing two-on-two basketball for only a few minutes, but Kristina Kim was already sweating. She called time out and grabbed a towel. Frankie Absalom, the referee, and Aristotle, her Labrador retriever, both looked at her quizzically. She scrunched up her face and stared back.

‘I’m hot, okay?’

Frankie, bundled up in a coat, ski cap, and blanket, smirked. ‘What’s the matter?’ he teased. ‘Out of shape?’ Aristotle panted, blowing his dog breath out into the cold air. He was not allowed to move during the Sunday-afternoon games, and he didn’t, though in a canine form of rebellion, his tail wagged.

Jim Shaw, Conni Tobias, and Albert Maplethorpe came over. Kristina took a bottle of Poland Spring out of her Jansport backpack, opened it, poured water on her face, and then wiped her face again. It was a chilly day in late November, but she was burning up.

Jim squeezed Kristina’s neck. ‘What’s the matter, Krissy, you okay?’

‘Come on! Come on!’ said Albert. ‘What are you doing? Stalling for time?’

Kristina wanted time to move quicker, to fly till one o’clock when she was to meet Howard Kim at Peter Christian’s Tavern. She wanted to get the lunch over and done with, and she was so anxious about it she couldn’t think of anything else.

‘I’m out of shape,’ Kristina admitted to Frankie, ignoring Albert’s remark. She let Jim rub her neck. ‘The season’s starting next Saturday, and I’m terrible.’

‘No,’ Conni said. ‘You’re fine. Yesterday you were fine.’

Kristina waved carelessly, hoping no one would notice her flushed face. ‘Oh, that was just an exhibition game.’

‘Krissy, you scored forty-seven points!’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know. But Cornell wasn’t playing all out.’

‘I didn’t know they knew how,’ said Jim, now massaging her shoulder.

‘What time is it, Frankie?’ Kristina asked.

‘Twelve-oh-seven.’

‘Come on, you guys, let’s play,’ said Kristina. ‘The teams?’

The first game was couples against couples. Albert and Conni against Kristina and Jim.

‘You okay, dear?’ Jim asked, touching her back.

She thoughtfully looked at him and stroked his cold cheek.

‘Nothing. Hot as hell.’

Conni shivered. ‘Yeah, I’m sweatin’ myself.’ Squinting at Conni, Kristina smiled, thinking, she’s teasing me. Conni did not smile back. Biting her lip, Kristina said to Albert and Conni, ‘You guys want a handicap?’

They half-mockingly sneered. ‘Get the hell out of here with your handicap. Put your hair in your face. That’ll be our handicap. Besides, we’re going to win,’ said Albert. Conni didn’t say anything.

They lost 20-16.

Kristina was a tall, long-legged girl with a mass of jet-black hair falling into her face and halfway down her back. She didn’t like to tie her hair back. Her raven mane was a distraction to the other team, and during the Ivy League play-offs she had been ordered to tie it up. She did, but by the end of the game the hair was all over her face anyway.

Here on the driveway of Frankie’s fraternity, Phi Beta Epsilon - one of the least notable frat houses on Webster Avenue or Frat Row, as the Dartmouth students called it - Kristina never tied her hair. They played at an old regulation post with a rusted, netless hoop. Kristina didn’t care. Two-on-two was great practice for her. It made her quicker.

Today, however, her hands were slippery; they kept dropping the ball, which even the five-foot Conni intercepted from her. Kristina tried to pass the ball from one hand to the other behind her back but she failed completely, and Conni and Albert got the ball and the shot. They all laughed at her, but Kristina’s mind was on Howard; she didn’t laugh back. Usually she could spin in the air as she jumped up to sink the shot. Not today, though she was clearly the best player out of the four.

At the end of each successful shot, Kristina high-fived Jim and held on to his fingers the way she always did. He let her, but the moment she let go, he let go also.

Kristina chewed gum as she played. Once when she came down hard on her feet, she bit her tongue. She spit out the gum and some blood with it.

Frankie kept penalties, shouted fouls, and kept score on a Post-it note. Chewing gum, he sat on a folded blanket, legs drawn to his chest. His ski cap was pulled over his ears.

When they came back to him, Kristina asked the time.

‘Fifteen minutes after the last time you asked me,’ Frankie said. ‘See, each game is fifteen minutes. That’s how I know. In a hurry?’

‘No, no,’ Kristina said hastily, pouring water all over her face.

‘Come on, let’s play.’

‘Give us a break!’ exclaimed Conni. ‘Five minutes.’

‘No, I’m pumped,’ Kristina said. ‘The teams?’

Conni looked at Kristina levelly. ‘Gee, Krissy, I don’t know. What do we usually do after Albert and I lose to you?’

‘We play the boys?’

‘Now that’s an idea.’

Kristina wasn’t going to let Conni’s peeved sarcasm get her down. ‘Great. You boys need a handicap?’ Conni was her handicap, but Kristina would never say that out loud.

Jim pushed Kristina against the basketball pole with his shoulder. ‘I have a good feeling about this game,’ he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She turned his face toward his and tried to kiss him on the lips, but he moved away from her. There was coolness in his eyes.

He’s upset about last night, Kristina thought. Later. Later.

Kristina and Conni beat Albert and Jim 18-16. ‘Wow, you boys came very close,’ Kristina said when the game was over. Jim’s game was off. He ran a little slower, threw the ball a little lower, and didn’t intercept the ball from Kristina or block her. She could almost swear Jim was gritting his teeth as she played, but then she wrote it off as her guilty imagination. Then what is that crunch underneath his jaw with every dribble of the ball? Kristina thought.

‘Don’t you patronize us, Miss All-Ivy,’ said Jim. ‘After we’re done here, let’s run a mile and see who’s gonna come close to who.’

Kristina thought she could run a mile in four flat right about now. What’s the time? What’s the time?

‘What’s the time, Frankie?’

From his sitting position, he glanced up and handed her the watch. Twelve forty-three. Kristina was wet from sweat. Seventeen more minutes.

In fifteen minutes, Kristina and Albert beat Conni and Jim 40-8. Kristina ran after every ball, marking and blocking even Conni, whom Kristina usually left alone. As if running faster would make the time go faster.

‘Good game,’ Kristina said afterward, breathing hard.

Conni said, ‘I really prefer basketball as a spectator sport. Like when I go to see Krissy kick Crimson’s butt.’

‘Yes, but you’re a good sport, and that’s the only thing that matters,’ said Kristina.

‘Is it? The only thing that matters?’ Conni asked pointedly, looking at Kristina. ‘Me being a good sport?’

‘Sure,’ said Kristina noncommittally.

Albert stepped in. ‘No,’ he said, putting his arm around Conni and smiling suggestively. ‘There are plenty of other things that matter.’ That made Conni smile and allowed Kristina to grab her backpack off the brown grass.

‘I’ll catch you guys later.’

‘Wait!’ Conni called after her.

Coming up to Kristina and lowering her voice, Conni said, ‘I thought you were going to help me, you know - with the - uh - you know - the…’ glancing meaningfully in Albert’s direction.

‘Oh, yeah, cake,’ Kristina whispered.

‘Shhh…!’

‘Shhh… sorry.’ Kristina was quieter, but inside her engine was revving so high she could barely hear herself speak. ‘I gotta go now.’ Now, now, now, her inner voice was shouting. ‘I’ll come by later, okay?’

‘Kristina! The nuts, the hazelnuts, they all gotta be choppéd, finely. It’ll take me forever. And then the icing - come on.’

Leaning down to Conni’s ear, Kristina said, ‘I have to tell you something about that…’

Just then Jim and Albert walked over to them, and Kristina didn’t get a chance to tell Conni that Albert hated nuts, especially hazelnuts.

‘What are you guys cooking up here?’

‘Nothing, nothing,’ said Kristina quickly.

Conni threw her hands up. Jim laughed, and Kristina tried to move away. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she called out to them, catching Albert’s eye. He was staring at her. She looked away and wiped her wet forehead.

‘Wait up!’ Jim caught up to Kristina. ‘Hey.’ They walked in silence down Webster Avenue, to North Main Street, amid the bare trees. Some students on the front lawn of Alpha Beta Gamma House were setting up a huge turkey piñata.

Kristina was hoping Jim wouldn’t notice how fast she was walking and wouldn’t ask her about last night. He didn’t, but what he did ask was worse. ‘Wanna have lunch?’ Jim said.

‘Lunch?’ Kristina was flummoxed. She hadn’t really expected to disappear after their weekly basketball session without Jim’s noticing, but in the almost three years they’d been going out, Kristina had never told Jim about Howard, and she wasn’t going to start now when a new period in her life was about to begin. They turned right at the corner of North Main Street.

‘Jim, I’ve just got to write that death-penalty piece for the Review. I’m late with it as it is.’

He squeezed her neck as they were walking. ‘You got a little time.’

‘Yeah? That’s not what you said yesterday.’

‘Yesterday?’ He took his hand away. ‘I didn’t see you yesterday, Kristina,’ Jim said pointedly, and Kristina flushed.

‘Yes, you did. Yesterday morning.’

Jim shook his head. ‘No. Not in the morning. Not last night.’

Kristina tried to suppress a sigh, but it escaped anyway between her dry and tense lips. ‘Oh, yeah, last night. I went to Red Leaves House last night.’

‘Red Leaves, huh?’ said Jim. ‘How often do they make you work Saturday nights?’

Red Leaves was a home for pregnant teenagers where Kristina had done work-study since her freshman year.

‘They usually don’t. But Evelyn - you know -’

‘Yeah, I know of Evelyn. What about her?’

‘She’s real pregnant -’

‘Oh?’ said Jim. ‘That’s not unusual for Red Leaves House, is it?’

‘And depressed,’ continued Kristina nearly without stopping. ‘She needed me, so I-I stayed over.’

‘Stayed overnight?’

‘Sure. I’ve stayed overnight there before.’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah.’

His tone was still skeptical, but relief showed on his face. Kristina laughed and said, ‘God, you look like I just told you you won the lottery.’ She ruffled his hair without breaking her stride.

‘No,’ he said, his face becoming impassive. ‘This is much better.’

Kristina was almost shaking with anxiety. Thank God they were walking and Jim couldn’t see her legs trembling. She took his hand. They were just past Baker Library and near Tuck Mall, down which they all lived. She wanted Jim to leave her there and not follow her to Main Street.

‘You’re cold,’ Jim said.

‘No, why do you say that?’ Kristina said, taking her hand away and wiping sweat off her face again. ‘I’m like hot lava.’

‘Your legs, they’re twitching.’

Kristina was wearing black spandex shorts and a Dartmouth-green T-shirt. ‘You’re right, I’m freezing,’ she said.

Eyeing her carefully, Jim said, ‘Hey. What’s going on with you?’

‘Nothing,’ she said quickly, smiling as widely as possible. ‘Nothing at all.’

She saw that he didn’t believe her, his suspicious expression deepening. ‘Come on, have lunch with me,’ Jim said.

‘Can’t, Jimbo, sorry. Gotta do the work before Thanksgiving. Have way too much stuff to do.’

Sighing, he said, ‘Oh, well, I’ll come with you to the office then. I’ve got some work to do there myself.’ Jim was the editor of the Dartmouth Review.

‘Oh, God!’ Kristina exclaimed. She was at the end of her rope. ‘Jim, please! I just need a couple of hours. I just need to think and sit, and just be alone to put together my thoughts. Okay?’

He stopped walking, and she stopped with him but continued to walk in place.

‘Will I see you later?’ he said.

‘Jimbo,’ Kristina said, mustering a tone of tenderness. Mixed with her frustration and anxiety, his nickname came out quick and husky, caressed and spit out at the same time. She cleared her throat. ‘Jim, of course you will. We’re studying at four, remember? I’ve got basketball practice at two. I’ll see you, okay?’

‘Why don’t you just move in to Leede Arena?’ Jim said grumpily. ‘You’re always there.’

‘Jimmy, I have to go to practice. You know that. I didn’t become All-Ivy on talent alone.’ She grinned.

‘Is your work suffering?’ His tone was still sour.

‘Well, I’m not making Dean’s List this semester, if that’s what you’re asking.’

He nodded, and then almost as an afterthought said, ‘You know, I looked everywhere for you last night. Everywhere.’

She didn’t say anything, and he continued, ‘Even in the library stacks.’

Reaching out, Kristina touched his face. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was at Red Leaves.’

‘I wish you would’ve. I couldn’t fall asleep till, like, one. Kept calling your room.’

‘One, huh?’ Kristina managed a smile. ‘That’s about two hours past your bedtime, isn’t it?’

‘Ha-ha,’ said Jim.

‘Gotta go, Jim,’ Kristina breathed out. ‘I’ll see you later.’

He leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed him back and walked away, stepping up her pace until she was running. The laces on her torn Adidas were loose, and Kristina stopped for a second to tie them, dropping the backpack she was carrying. She ran from McNutt Hall to Collis Café before she noticed. She ran back, picked it up, and sprinted under the Dartmouth-green awnings of Main Street straight toward Peter Christian’s, the basement joint.

Oh dear, here we go, Kristina thought, as she took three deep breaths and stepped inside the darkened restaurant.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ Kristina said, plopping herself down across from Howard, who smiled politely.

‘This is not too bad,’ he said, speaking precisely and slowly, looking at his watch. ‘It is only fifteen minutes.’ He put two sugars into her coffee and added some milk. As always Kristina thought it was strange and incongruous to hear him speak such perfect English. She leaned over to kiss him.

‘Why are you so wet?’ he asked, wiping his cheek.

‘We were playing basketball. I get all sweaty.’ She smiled, taking a napkin and running it over her face. Howard just looked at her.

Kristina took a sip of coffee and grimaced. ‘The coffee is cold,’ she said, putting her cup down. She didn’t want Howard to see her fingers trembling.

‘You sound like you have a cold,’ he said.

‘Howard.’ Kristina was amused. ‘Are you making a play on words?’

‘Why are you surprised by that? I do have a sense of humor,’ he said seriously.

‘I know you do, Howard,’ said Kristina, gently patting his arm from across the wooden table. ‘I know you do.’

‘You do have a cold, don’t you?’

‘Yes, yes I do.’ She didn’t really, but she knew it was important to Howard to show concern.

‘Where is your coat? You are wearing shorts?’

‘Forgot my coat.’ She shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

‘You still do it.’

‘Do what?’

‘Refuse to dress properly for wintertime.’

‘I find it invigorating.’

‘Viruses, they can be very invigorating. Strep throat. Pneumonia.’

‘Never had any of those things,’ Kristina said. He was nagging at her, playing mother, but it was all right. ‘Always been healthy as an ox.’

They waited to talk properly until after they ordered. Kristina wanted to order a salad with the delicious spicy mustard dressing, but it was her first meal of the day - the saltine crackers notwithstanding - and she didn’t want to be having mustard and vinegar for breakfast. She ordered carrot cake instead.

She tried to will herself to be less nervous. But she was wired. Last night she hadn’t had much sleep. And this beautiful morning, she had been up at seven. The bare-treed Vermont hills had sparkled in the sunlight, but now there was only anxiety as she thought about an upset Jim and the patient Howard - solid and polite, looking out at her from his black-rimmed glasses, with his gentle, unsmiling eyes.

‘How’ve you been?’ she asked, trying to calm down.

‘Good, Kristina, things are quite good. Busy.’

‘Well, busy is good,’ she said. He didn’t reply. ‘Isn’t it? Busy, it’s very good. You must be so… pleased… that you’re, you know, busy.’ She knew she was rambling. God! ‘Many interesting cases?’

He considered her for a moment. ‘How interesting can corporate law be? So let’s see these papers, Kristina.’

Kristina nervously took the manila envelope out of her backpack. Passing it to him, she said, ‘Everything looks okay.’

Howard paused before opening it. ‘Is everything okay? I am not so sure.’

Kristina chose to misunderstand him. ‘No, really. Everything is letter-perfect.’

With a glance through the documents, Howard laid them aside. ‘We never got a chance to speak about this. Has something happened?’

Something had happened. Kristina’s grandmother had died. But Howard didn’t know that. Nor would he.

‘I just think it’s for the best, that’s all,’ Kristina said, playing with her fork. She tasted the cream cheese icing of the carrot cake. It was good, but she just wasn’t hungry anymore.

‘Is it really for the best?’

‘Sure. Of course.’

‘Why? Why all of a sudden did you want a divorce?’

He was wearing a suit, and he looked so nice and familiar a pang of sadness hit her. She thought, does this mean I’m not going to see him again? I’m so used to knowing he’s there.

Shrugging, Kristina put down her fork. The coffee was cold, the cake was cheesy, and her stomach was empty. ‘It wasn’t all of a sudden. I thought it was time.’

‘Why?’

‘Howard, because I’m turning twenty-one, because I want to get on with my life. I mean, what if I want to marry someone?’ She paused. ‘What if you want to marry someone?’

‘Is there someone you want to marry, Kristina?’

‘Not yet. But who knows?’ She smiled. ‘Mr Right might be just around the corner.’

‘Hmm. I thought Jim was your Mr Right.’

Kristina coughed. ‘That’s what I meant. Jim.’ She was glad they were talking. Her hands calmed down. She wasn’t as hot anymore.

Howard leaned forward and, lowering his voice, which was already calm and low, asked, ‘Was this your idea?’

Kristina sat back from the table. They were sitting in the corner behind the stairs; the cellar was dimly lit and gloomy.

‘Howard, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I asked if it was your idea.’

‘I know what you asked. I just don’t know what you mean.’

‘Kristina, it is a yes-or-no question.’

‘You think everything is a yes-or-no question,’ she said, on edge.

‘Pretty much everything is,’ he said easily. ‘Let us try it again. Kristina, was this your idea?’

She felt impelled to answer him. ‘Mine, like how?’

‘Yours, like did you think of this all by yourself, or did someone else suggest we go ahead and get divorced?’

Incapable of answering him, Kristina said, ‘Who else could possibly -’ and then stopped. Howard was looking at her squarely in the face, and since she knew exactly what he meant, she thought it pointless to pretend any further. So she lied. ‘Yes, Howard. It was my idea.’

Howard stared at her impassively, but there was something heartfelt behind the serious brown eyes.

‘Eat your cake,’ Howard finally said in a gentle voice.

‘Who cares about the cake?’ she said sourly.

‘I care about the divorce.’

Kristina sighed deeply. ‘Howard,’ she said, ‘I know. But believe me. Everything’s gonna be okay.’

‘Kristina, I find that impossible to believe.’

‘Why?’

‘Kristina, your father asked me to take care of you.’

‘He didn’t ask you, Howard, he told you.’

‘Wrong. We made a deal.’

‘Yes, and I think you’ve kept your end of the bargain. But one, I’m turning twenty-one tomorrow. And two, Father is dead now. It’s time, Howard.’

‘A deal is a deal. We didn’t stipulate age or his death in our agreement.’

‘Oh, Howard.’ Kristina sighed and then said quietly, ‘Give up.’

‘I cannot,’ he said.

‘Please don’t worry about me. Things are going to be just great, I promise.’ Kristina wanted to believe that.

He looked away from her and, nodding, said, ‘All of a sudden.’

‘Not all of a sudden! Five years. Come on. It’s better this way. I was nothing but a means to an end to you.’

Kristina saw hurt on his face. Her words must have made him feel terrible. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘You know what I mean. You’re a good person, you deserve better.’ She hoped she was saying the right things, but she was restless. She fidgeted with her napkin, then drummed her dirty fork against the wooden table. ‘Come on, you’ve gone above and beyond your deal to take care of me. And if you had these doubts, why didn’t you say something in September when I first told you I was filing?’

Now it was Howard’s turn to sigh. ‘You came to me and asked for an extra thousand dollars. I felt I had a right to know why you needed it. If you had had the money yourself, would you have even told me, or would I just have been contacted by your attorney?’

‘Howard. I don’t have an attorney. I hired some shyster for a thousand non-contested bucks. He didn’t even know how much the court fees were. First he said a hundred, then three hundred. I mean, the whole thing - that’s why I wanted you to look everything over.’

‘Nothing I can do about it now,’ said Howard, pushing the manila envelope aside. He cleared his throat. ‘It is very important to me that you are all right. That you are safe,’ he said.

‘Howard, I’m all right, I’m safe.’ Smiling, Kristina added, ‘The only time I’m not safe is when the other team tries to foul me on the court.’

‘How often does that happen?’

‘All the time.’

‘Still love playing?’

‘Kidding me? It’s what keeps me going. I scored record points in our exhibition game against Cornell last week.’ She grinned proudly.