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Again, I looked up at the attic window. She had opened it just enough to hear our conversation. I was sure she was worried that I would say the wrong thing.
I heard the bus coming and moved down to the side of the road. Jesse stood up to wave as I went around to get onto the bus. I hurried to the back and looked out at him as we pulled away. He returned to his painting but looked as if he was working faster.
He's going up to her again, I thought.
And who knew what else he would do today?
I should be sharing in this. I shouldn't be playing the innocent, unknowing little sister. I slumped in my seat and stared ahead. This was going to be the hardest day of all at school. I'd haunt that clock, trying desperately to move its hands around faster. It occurred to me that I should have pretended I was sick and stayed home, but I had used that excuse too recently.
It was too late now.
Or was it?
I could go to the nurse's office and complain about cramps. That always worked. Of course, I was afraid of the havoc and concern I could cause for my parents, but the idea lay just under the surface of my thoughts all morning. I was terrible in class, missing notes, failing to answer questions, and annoying my teachers with my restlessness. My nerve endings felt like guitar strings twanging, and I was paranoid, positive that the other students in my classes and in the hallways were looking at me and whispering. The whole world suspected something wrong was going on at my house.
This town was too small for such an
embarrassing and devastating revelation. We were on the verge of being destroyed, my father's wonderful career irreparably damaged, and it would be all my and now Jesse's fault. We were greater failures as children than some of the young people who were always in trouble for misbehavior at school and elsewhere.
I made it to lunch, but I had no appetite. I sat staring at my food, the clatter of dishes, chatter, and laughter merging around me in a great cacophony of unintelligible noise. My head felt as if it were empty of everything but the echoing sounds.
"Did you tell Karen about our little episode?" I heard, and realized Dana Martin had put his hands on my table and was leaning toward me, his face only inches from my own. "Did you let her know you and she are in quicksand?"
I couldn't speak. I turned away, feeling my throat close.
When he laughed, I jumped up so abruptly he nearly fell over backward. Everyone in the cafeteria had stopped talking and was looking our way. I fluttered a moment, and then I charged out of the cafeteria and practically ran all the way to the nurse's office. Her door was locked, with the sign on it telling students she was at lunch, and anyone who needed her should go directly to the principal's office. I did. His secretary, Mrs. Schwartz, looked up at me and instantly knew something was very wrong.
"I need to go to the nurse's office," I said. "I have terrible cramps, and I feel like I might throw up."
"Okay, okay," she said, rising quickly and getting a set of keys from a side drawer. "Follow me."
She hurried out, her high-heeled shoes tapping like a pair of woodpeckers on a petrified tree. She fumbled with the door lock but got it open and saw to it that I had a cot in one of the small rooms. She gave me a blanket and then mumbled something about going to get the nurse. She gave me a pan in case I did vomit. Then she left, closing the nurse's office door. I closed my eyes and tried to calm
my thumping heart.
A few minutes later, the nurse, Mrs. Miller, came into her office and hurried to my side. She asked me about the cramps and took my temperature.
"It's normal," she told me. "Your time of month?" I nodded, even though it wasn't.
"You'll be fine," she said. "But you probably shouldn't try to attend any more classes today. I can't give you anything, but I'm sure your mother has what you need at home." She knew my mother was a nurse, too.
"She's at work at the hospital," I said.
"Well, I have to call either her or your father." "My brother is home from college, too," I said. "He's not your guardian. I have to call your parents," she told me. I felt terrible about it and now really did feel sick inside.
Daddy was in court and couldn't be reached for a few hours. My mother had been asked to assist in an operation and was also out of reach for now. Reluctantly, the nurse called my house to speak with my brother, but she returned to tell me no one had answered.
"I've left messages for your parents, but I can take you home," she said.
I struggled to my feet, and she led me out to her car in the parking lot.
"I used to have periods like you're having," she told me. "I used to hate Adam and Eve," she added, smiling.
"Why?"
"My grandmother told me God was so angry at Eve that he cursed us all with pain related to giving birth, which includes having periods." She laughed again. "My mother used to yell at my grandmother for putting all these thoughts in my head. Later, I had a girlfriend in school named Eve, and I used to wonder what her parents were thinking when they named her that. My father told me it wasn't Eve's fault entirely, anyway. It was the devil's, the snake, but he made the point clear to me that in the end, we have to be responsible for the things we do and the choices we make. You can always say no," she added.
I closed my eyes. It wasn't as easy as she made it seem, I thought, but she was probably right. I had my own Garden of Eden at my house. Actually, Jesse and I both had it now.
