Bud

Chapter 3

Chapter 3I stood there in that room, speechless. The old me would have been so excited to dance there. But I wasn’t a dancer anymore. I’d lost my heart, and I would never get it back.

“Whaddaya think, Bud?” Sarge asked. “Pretty snazzy, huh?”

What do I say to him? Thanks, but no thanks? I’ll never dance again?

“No need to speak, my little baillerin. It’s a lot, I know. You will have hours of pleasure here, mi amor,” Estrella said. “But—my tiny one—I must warn you. My creaking old body finds its own joy in this estudio bello. I will try to stay out of your way and only dance when you are at school. But perhaps, you will indulge an old lady and let her coach you sometimes?”

How do I answer her? I just got here, and she’s being so nice to me. “Okay. When I’m ready.” All I wanted right then was to go to bed. Pull the covers up over my head. Pretend my life wasn’t destroyed. Pretend Mimi was coming to get me after a good night’s sleep.

While Sarge and Estrella were trying so hard to be nice, Will had stood there, looking at me. As quiet as he’d been, I’d thought he was the one of the three of them who didn’t want me there the most. But what he said next was a lifeline.

“Let’s show Shelly to his room now, folks. He’s had a rough day—a lot of rough days. What say, Shel? Sleep?”

I nodded.

Sarge sprang into action, grabbing my hand. “Will and I’ll show ya where ya bunk. Come, come.” We three followed him like good soldiers.

Down the back stairs, Estrella said, “Buenas noches, niños.” She walked past us to the living room, to her home past the pool.

Sarge pointed to his left. “This here’s our bedroom, Will’s and mine, and this—” he indicated a room to our left—”will be your room.” Will opened the door, and the three of us walked in.

“Another room ‘cross the hall you’re welcome to, but this’un has its own bathroom, so Will thought ya might like here better. The furniture came with the place. I kinda figured ya’d want the room across the hall because the furniture’s plainer—more manly, if there is such a thing and it’s all right to call furniture manly.” His motor mouth was in gear again. “This here stuff was Pamela’s—the lady who sold me the place—own bedroom furniture. If ya’d rather have Early American than this French Provincial, we can switch out for the other room’s bed and things.”

I looked at the bed, the night stand, the dresser.

They were curvy and white and trimmed in gold. The bed had a canopy and the dresser a big mirror. If I have to live here, this furniture suits me a lot. And I finally can have my canopy bed. This bed, this furniture, is me.

“Oh, I like this just the way it is,” I said, trying to sound happy. Sarge gave Will a sideways, go figure look, and Will laughed. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t explain to Will and Sarge why I liked this stuff. They wouldn’t understand anyway.

Will leaned over and gave me a little hug. “You’re the kind of man I like. Knows what he wants and makes himself heard.” I started to jerk away. But Will’s hug felt kinda good.

I liked the hug, hated his word man. And I didn’t quite know why. Didn’t know why? That’s something that came up within me all the time.

I looked around. A TV on the wall. Underneath, a shelf. Lotsa equipment.

“Got your entertainment center here, bud,” Sarge gestured like a Price Is Right model. “Didn’t know if ya were a gamer, but I got ya an X-box. We can swap it out for a PlayStation if ya want. Also, there’s a DVD player, plus the TV’s outfitted with Netflix, sss Prime Video, cable, and we can add any services ya like to watch. Feel free to make this your man cave.”

That about killed me. I don’t want a man cave. I don’t want to have anything to do with you and your manly-man stuff. I just want my Mimi.

Will jumped right in. As upset as I was, as tired as I was, as much as I was wondering if I’d ever like Sarge, I think Will knew I needed a change of subject. “Look, Shelly, the color of the room? How ‘bout we repaint it. Go to Lowe’s, pick out a color, make a party of it. Whaddya think?”

I looked around at the dark green walls. “Yeah,” I said, not with much enthusiasm. Painting the walls seemed like something that made this all real, and I didn’t want that, not at all. “A nicer color will go better with my painting.”

I don’t know why I thought of my ballerina right then, but I did. Maybe it was that she was a part of me from the life they were trying to get me to forget.

“I heard about that. A real Degas? Your mother must have really loved you to buy you that.” Will’s eyes glistened, and I didn’t feel bad about his mentioning Mimi. I agreed with him.

“It’s beautiful, my painting. My ballerina. Sometimes I pretend dancing with her, both of us gliding across on our toes, dancing ‘The Waltz of the Snowflakes.’”

“But there’re no men in that—”

Will cut Sarge off. “I’d bet you’d be lovely, Shelly, just lovely.”

That’s a nice thing to say. Will had made me feel just a little bit happy. For a quick moment, I forgot it all. All the sadness.

“Well, time t’ hit the rack. That’s sleep, to you, recruit. Big day t’morrow. Thought we’d head out t’ Downtown Summerlin. They got Macy’s, Dillard’s, and a buncha other stores. You c’n pick out some new beddin’ for your room.”

“And we’ll stop at Lowe’s to get paint. Maybe we’ll even have time tomorrow evening to paint the room. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, hesitating. “My ballerina and all my other stuff’s s’posed to be delivered tomorrow, though.”

“No prob. Estrella’ll be here.”

And they left.

I did a 360 of my new room. This was where I was going to live. From now on, I told myself, I was never gonna cry again. But a tear fell. I wanted my mother. “You’ll be fine, love. Tomorrow you will see everything different. A new room, new bedding, new paint. You’ll see. You’ll feel new yourself.”

I knew she wasn’t really there talking to me. But I was happy to hear her voice. And suddenly I was sad to hear her voice.

I threw myself onto the bed. I wanted her to hold me. I wanted to smell her perfume. Just once more. I clutched her ballerina around my neck. I started to sob. It hurt. Mimi was gone. Why did she leave me? How am I gonna live here?

My cellphone chimed. A text. Mimi was the only one who ever texted me.

It had to be her. I didn’t know how. But I knew it was her.

I swiped up to pull up the texts. Unknown caller?

Have a great night, bud. Will and I are glad you’re here. If you need us, we’re just across the hallway. Sarge. Mr. Stern musta given him my number.

I started crying again. The tears wouldn’t stop. I wanted my mother so bad.

Mimi, come get me. I need you. I typed in the text. I knew she wasn’t gonna answer. But I did it anyway.

I begged the screen to come back with an answer. Mimi don’t be dead, write back, say, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

But staring and hoping doesn’t make the impossible happen. I cried until I was exhausted.

I was nodding off. My eyes would not stay open. I forced them to stay open, staring at my phone, waiting for Mimi’s answer.

With my eyes barely open, I saw. Dance for me, baby. Dance.