双语畅销书·怦然心动 Chapter 10 探视
Chapter 10
探视
星期天的早晨，家里总是一片祥和。爸爸在睡懒觉，妈妈享受着不做早饭的轻松。如果哥哥们不在外面和乐队一起练习，直到中午你都不会感受到他们的存在。
我通常会在别人睡觉的时候，踮起脚尖溜到院子里捡鸡蛋，然后倒上一碗麦片，回房间坐到床上边吃边看书。
不过，这个星期天例外——经历了几乎一整夜的沮丧和不安——我醒来后只想做点运动，用来赶走盘踞在心中的困惑。
我真正想做的是高高地爬上我的无花果树，但我最终满足于给院子浇水，这让我有时间思考。我拧开水龙头，反复地浇灌着泥土，欣慰地看到它们是多么黝黑肥沃。我在心里忙着跟播在土里的草籽说话，引诱它们快快发芽，好迎接初升的太阳。这时，爸爸从屋里走出来。
他刚刚洗过澡，头发湿漉漉的，手里捏着团成一团的杂货袋。“爸爸！对不起，我把你吵醒了。”
“你没吵醒我，亲爱的。我已经起来一会儿了。”
“你不是要去上班吧？”
“不，我……”他盯着我看了一会儿，然后说道，“我去探视戴维。”
“戴维叔叔？”
他朝卡车走去：“是的。我……我中午之前回来。”
“但是爸爸，为什么今天去看他？今天是星期天。”
“我知道，亲爱的，可今天是个特殊的星期天。”
我关上水龙头：“为什么特殊？”
“今天是他的四十岁生日。我想去看看他，送他一件礼物。”他拿出一个纸袋，“别担心，我会带些薄饼回来当午饭，好吗？”
“我跟你一起去。”我把水管扔到一边。我甚至连衣服都没换——只穿着运动服和球鞋，连袜子都没穿——但我根本没有犹豫，我一定要去。
“你不愿意待在家里，和妈妈一起度过一个愉快的上午吗？她肯定——”
我走到副驾驶座旁边，说：“我要去。”然后爬进去，把门关好。
“可是——”他透过驾驶座的门对我说。
“我要去，爸爸。”
他端详着我。片刻，他说：“好吧，”然后把纸袋放在后座，“我给你妈妈留张便条。”
他进屋去了，我系上安全带，告诉自己这是个好主意。我几年前就应该这么做。戴维叔叔是我家的一分子，是爸爸的一部分，也是我的一部分，这正是我了解他的好机会。
我端详着身边的纸袋。爸爸给他弟弟带去了什么东西作为四十岁生日礼物？
我把它拿起来。不是画——比画轻很多。当我摇晃它的时候，发出一种奇怪的、轻柔的咔嗒声。
我刚想偷偷掀起一角往里看，爸爸就从门口走过来了。我放下纸袋坐好，他坐进驾驶座，我问他：“你不介意我去吧？”
他看着我，没有说话，手里的钥匙停在打火的位置。
“我……我希望不会破坏掉你和他在一起的时光。”
他发动车子：“不会的，宝贝。你跟我一起去，我很高兴。”
去往格林海文的路上，我们没怎么说话。他似乎想看看风景，而我，好吧，我有很多问题，但哪个也不想问出口。不过，坐在爸爸车里的感觉真好。沉默比交谈更紧地把我们联系在一起。
到了格林海文，爸爸停下车，但我们没有马上下去。
“你需要适应这里，朱莉安娜，但你会喜欢上这里的。你会喜欢上他们，他们都是很好的人。”
我点点头，但有种奇怪的恐惧感。
“来吧，”他从座位上拿起纸袋，“我们进去吧。”
对我来说，格林海文不像个医院，但也不怎么像个家。它是个长长的、方方正正的建筑。走廊遮着一层湖绿色的遮阳棚，沿途的花圃里是刚刚种下的三色堇，还挂着泥土，有点歪歪斜斜的。
草坪有些斑驳，邻近建筑物的地方挖了三个深深的洞。
“这里的住户负责照料花园，”爸爸解释说，“这是他们康复训练的一部分，对治疗有帮助。这些洞将要用来种植桃子、李子和梨。”
“果树？”
“是的。为了投票，他们争得不亦乐乎。”
“在这些……住户当中投票？”
“没错，”他推开一扇玻璃门，说道，“进来吧。”
屋里很凉爽，闻起来有清洁剂的松木味和漂白剂的气味，还隐隐透出某种暧昧的辛辣味道。
没有接待台或是等待区，我们直接走到一处巨大的十字路口，有着白色的墙壁和窄窄的木头长凳。左边是一间摆着电视机和几排塑料椅子的大房间，右边是几间开着门的办公室，我们身边放着两个松木衣橱。其中一个开着门，里面整齐地挂着半打灰色运动服。
“早上好，罗伯特！”一间办公室里传来一个女人的声音。
“早上好，乔西。”爸爸回答道。
她从屋子里走向我们俩，说：“戴维已经起床了。大概六点钟就起来了，梅布尔告诉我今天是他的生日。”
“梅布尔说得对。”他转身对我笑了笑，“乔西，我想向你介绍我的女儿，朱莉安娜。朱莉安娜，这位是乔西·格伦马克。”
“哦，太好了，”乔西牵起我的手，“我在戴维的相册里见过你的照片。你快要读高中了，对不对？”
我惊讶地看着她，再看看爸爸。我完全没想到会是这样，不过我能看出他确实向她提起过我。“是的，我想……是的。”
“乔西是这儿的管理员。”
“以及，”乔西笑着补充道，“我还没有从这里毕业！在这儿待了十七年啦，恐怕还会再待下去。”电话铃响了，她匆匆地跑去接，“知道了，一会儿见。检查娱乐室，再查查他的房间。你肯定能找到他。”
爸爸带我转过一个弯，沿着走廊走得越深，那种隐蔽的辛辣味道来得就越浓烈。这地方就像是长年累月没人打扫的小便池。
走廊的尽头，一个小个子蜷缩在轮椅里。一开始我以为那是个孩子，走近一点儿，我发现那是个女人。
她的头发几乎掉光了，她张开没牙的嘴，对爸爸笑了笑，拉过他的手开始说话。
我的心沉到谷底。她发出的声音就像喉咙被堵住一样，消失在舌头上。她说的话我一句也听不懂，而她那么热切地盯着爸爸——好像他肯定能理解她说的话。
出乎我的意料，爸爸说：“你说得完全正确，梅布尔。就是今天，所以我来了。”他提起杂货袋，低声说，“我给他带了一点儿小礼物。”
“嗯——哇哇，”她说，“你怎么知道的？”
她冲爸爸发出咯咯的声音，直到他轻轻地拍着她的手说：“我想是一种强烈的预感吧。他喜欢过生日，而且——”他看到她正在注视着我。
“呼哈。”她说。
“这是我女儿，朱莉安娜。朱莉安娜，来认识一下非凡的梅布尔小姐。她能记住每个人的生日，而且狂热地喜爱草莓奶昔。”
我努力挤出一个微笑，低声说“很高兴认识你”，但只换来一张充满怀疑的、面带愁容的脸。
“好吧，我们去找戴维了。”爸爸说，然后拿起袋子晃了晃，“假如他来找你，千万别泄密哦。”
我跟着爸爸走向卧室，他在门口停下来喊道：“戴维？戴维，我是罗伯特。”
一个男人出现在门口。我无论如何也看不出他是爸爸的兄弟。他身材健壮，戴着一副厚厚的棕色眼镜，他的脸看上去苍白而肿胀。可是他伸出双手抱住爸爸，并且喊道：“乌巴德！哟吼！”
“是的，是我，弟弟。”
我跟着他们走进房间，看到墙上挂满了拼图。它们是直接贴在墙壁上的，甚至延伸到天花板上！房间看上去舒适而惬意，充满情趣。我觉得自己仿佛置身于一个用绗缝被搭成的洞穴。
爸爸伸直手臂扶着他的弟弟，说道：“看看我带谁来了！”
有那么一瞬间，戴维看起来几乎吓坏了，可是爸爸接着说：“这是我的女儿，朱莉安娜。”
戴维的脸上忽然绽开了笑容，“朱——维——安——娜！”他喊着，然后抓住我，给了我一个拥抱。
我觉得自己快要窒息了。我的脸被埋住，他紧紧地搂着我，把空气都挤走了，还左右摇晃着。然后，他傻笑着松开我，跌进一把椅子：“这是窝——的——身——日！”
“我知道，戴维叔叔。生日快乐！”
他又咯咯地笑了：“歇——歇——你！”
“我们给你带来了礼物。”说着，爸爸打开纸袋。
在他拆开礼物之前，在我看到礼物实际的尺寸之前，我想起在车里摇晃它的声音。当然！我心想。那是一幅拼图。
戴维叔叔也猜到了：“一幅宾——图？”
“不只是拼图，”爸爸把礼物从袋子里拿出来，“一幅拼图，还有一个风车。”
爸爸在拼图盒子外面包了一张漂亮的蓝色包装纸，还用一个蝴蝶结把红黄相间的风车固定在盒子上。戴维叔叔一把扯下风车，开始朝它吹气。先是轻轻地吹，然后使劲地吹起来，喷出许多口水。“橙——设！”他边吹边喊，“橙——设！”
爸爸温柔地从他手里拿过风车，笑了：“红色和黄色加在一起是橙色，对不对？”
戴维试图把风车抢回去，但是爸爸说：“我们一会儿带着它到外面去，风会替你吹动它。”并把拼图放回他手里。
包装纸被撕成碎片扔在地上，我凑近去看爸爸给他买了什么拼图，结果惊得倒抽一口凉气。三千块！图案只是简单的白云和蓝天。没有阴影，没有树木——除了白云和蓝天什么都没有。
爸爸指着天花板中心的一点：“我想它正好适合那里。”
戴维叔叔向上看去，点点头，然后扑向他的风车，说道：“外——面？”
“没问题。我们去散步吧。你想去麦克艾略特那里吃个生日冰激凌吗？”
戴维叔叔把头上下晃动着：“好！”
我们在乔西那里登了记，然后走到大街上。戴维走得不快，因为他的身体似乎更希望向内伸展，而不是向前进。他有内八字，还驼着背，我们走路的时候，他几乎是重重地压在爸爸身上。
但他坚持把风车放在胸前，看着它旋转，时不时喊着：“橙——设，橙——设。”
麦克艾略特是个卖冰激凌的杂货铺。冰激凌柜台上支起红白条纹的遮阳棚，还放着几张白色的桌椅，贴着红白条纹的壁纸。看上去非常有节日色彩，尤其是放在杂货铺这个环境下。
爸爸给我们每人要了一个蛋筒，我们坐下之后，爸爸和戴维聊了两句，但是大多数时间戴维一心想着他的巧克力软糖口味的冰激凌。爸爸不时冲我露出微笑，我也笑了，但我仿佛和他隔了很远。他们俩来这里吃过多少次冰激凌了？他这样为他弟弟庆祝过多少次生日了？梅布尔、乔西以及格林海文的其他人，他认识他们多久了？这么多年，我怎么从来没来陪伴过我的叔叔？仿佛爸爸背着我过着一种秘密的生活。在我之外，还有一个完整的家。
我不喜欢这种感觉，我不明白。我正在生气，这时戴维手里的蛋筒碎了，冰激凌落在桌子上。
爸爸还没来得及制止，戴维已经把冰激凌捡起来，试着往蛋筒里塞。但是蛋筒已经碎成了块，于是冰激凌又掉下来，不过这次掉在了地上。
爸爸说：“别动它了，戴维。我再给你买一个。”但戴维不听。他的椅子向后倒，他把头也跟着埋下去。
“不要，戴维！我去给你买个新的。”爸爸伸出手去拉他，但戴维不肯动地方。他抓起冰激凌，向蛋筒剩下的部分塞过去，当蛋筒最底下也完全碎裂之后，他尖叫起来。
这太可怕了。他就像一个两百磅重的婴儿，倒在地板上发脾气。他喊着我听不懂的词，爸爸试着让他平静下来，然后对我说：“朱莉安娜，你能再帮他买一个蛋筒吗？”
看柜台的男人用他最快的速度装着蛋筒，但短短几秒钟之内，戴维已经挥舞着手臂打翻了一张桌子和两把椅子，把巧克力抹得到处都是。收银台的柜员和顾客看上去全都吓呆了——仿佛戴维是某种即将毁灭世界的怪物。
我把新的蛋筒递给爸爸，他又递给躺在地上的戴维。当他坐在地上吃蛋筒的时候，我和爸爸在他身边忙着把所有东西放回到它们应该在的位置，擦掉污迹。
回格林海文的路上，戴维就像什么都没发生过一样。他吹着风车，不时喊道“橙——设”，但是当爸爸打开前门，我看出戴维已经累了。
走进他的房间，戴维把风车放在床上，拿起装拼图的盒子。“你为什么不先休息一会儿再开始玩呢？”爸爸问他。
戴维摇了摇头：“先——在。”
“好吧，我来帮你做好准备。”
爸爸从床底下拉出一张牌桌，把桌腿打开，摆好。他把桌子推到墙边离床不远的地方，然后拿来一把椅子放在旁边：“好了，可以开始了。”
戴维打开盒子，已经把拼图筛了一遍：“则——个——拼——读——粉——好，乌巴德。”
“你喜欢它，我很高兴。你觉得能在星期三之前拼好吗？那时我可以回来帮你把它贴到天花板上，如果你喜欢的话。”
戴维点了点头，可是他已经全心投入到拼图里去了，小心地把拼图放在桌子上。
爸爸把手放在他的肩膀上：“我星期三再来看你，好吗？”
他点点头。
“你要不要和朱莉安娜告别？”
“百——拜。”他说，不过目光根本没离开那盒拼图。
“再见，戴维叔叔。”我试图让自己的声音愉快一点儿，但是没有做到。
回到车上，爸爸扣上安全带，说道：“就是这样。”
我只是看着他，试图笑一笑。
“你是不是跟我一样，累极了？”他说。
我点点头：“一切都很好——除了冰激凌。”
爸爸轻轻地笑了：“除了冰激凌？”然后他换上严肃的语气，“问题在于，你永远也不知道这‘冰激凌’会是什么样子。有时候是屋里的一只苍蝇，有时候是他穿袜子的感觉。你没法预料到每一件事。一般说来，冰激凌还算安全。”他摇着头，闭上眼睛，思考着我无法想象的什么东西。最后，他终于把火打着，说道，“戴维和我跟你妈妈一起住过一段时间。在你们出生之前。曾经以为，他和我们住在一起总比寄养在这里强，但我们错了。”
“但是不管怎么说，现在一切都很顺利……”
他挂上倒车挡：“戴维有许多许多的特殊需求，包括情绪上和生理上的。你妈妈和我无法全照顾到。幸运的是，他在这里很快乐。他们有固定的方法，教他如何照顾自己——穿衣服、洗澡、刷牙、怎样与人相处，怎样与别人交流。他们出去远足，他还有个工作，是帮医生办公室寄信。”
“真的？”
“每天早上，他去那里把信折好，放进信封里。格林海文对他很好，他得到了无数无微不至的关心。他有自己的房间、自己的朋友、自己的生活。”
过了一会儿，我问道：“但他是我们家的一分子，爸爸。他从来不到我家做客，这是不对的。甚至圣诞节和感恩节都不来！”
“他不想来，亲爱的。有一年你妈妈和我坚持要他在家和我们一起过感恩节，那变成了你能想象得到的最大的麻烦。他打碎了一扇车窗，他是那么沮丧。”
“可是……我们为什么不来探望他？我知道你经常来，但我是指其他人。他们为什么不来？”
“嗯，他们的耐心被消耗殆尽了。你妈妈因此非常沮丧和抑郁，我能理解。我们都认为，这里不适合小孩子。”
他加速上了高速公路，沉默地开着车。他最后说道：“时间过得真快，朱莉安娜。前一天你还把孩子抱在怀里，后一天你就发现她几乎变成一个女人了，”他悲哀地对我笑了笑，“我爱戴维，但他是个负担，我希望你能远离这个负担。但是现在，我意识到他还是造成了影响，对你，以及整个家庭。”
“但是爸爸，这不是……”
“朱莉安娜，我只想说，对不起。我想给你很多东西，把所有都给你。直到现在我才发现，我给予的却只有那么少。”
“不是这样的！”
“好吧，我想你明白我已经在内心世界寻找到我想要的东西，但如果用客观的标准去衡量，作为一个丈夫和父亲，像罗斯基先生那样的男人显然比我做得更好。他陪伴家人的时间更多，给予的更多，而且他也许比我有趣得多。”
爸爸既不是在违心地恭维，也不是出言赞赏，但是，我仍然不敢相信这是他的真心话：“爸爸，我不在乎别人怎么看，我觉得你是最好的爸爸！有一天我要结婚的话，绝对不想找个罗斯基先生那样的男人！我想找个你这样的人。”
他看着我，露出难以置信的表情：“真的吗？”他笑了，“好吧，等到那一天，我会提醒你的。”
从那一刻开始，我们的旅途不再充满悲伤和压抑。我们笑啊，闹啊，天南地北地聊，快到家的时候，话题集中在一种东西上。
薄饼。
可是，妈妈有别的打算。她擦了一上午地板，坚决否定了薄饼这个主意。“我需要吃些更管用的食物。比如烤火腿加奶酪，加上洋葱，”她说，“很多很多洋葱！”
“擦地板？”爸爸说，“今天是星期天，特瑞纳。你干吗要擦地板呢？”
“化紧张情绪为力量，”她看着我说，“怎么样？”
“很好，我很高兴我去看他了。”
她瞥了爸爸一眼，然后看着我：“好吧，那很好，”她叹了口气，“我擦地板还有一个原因，佩西打电话过来了。”
“罗斯基太太？”爸爸问道，“出什么问题了？”
妈妈把碎发拨到耳后，说：“没有……她邀请我们下周五去她家吃饭。”
我们错愕地看着她，然后我问：“我们全家？”
“是的。”
我能猜到爸爸是怎么想的：为什么？在对街住了这么久，我们从来没被邀请过。为什么是现在？
妈妈也猜到了他的想法。她叹了口气：“罗伯特，我不是很清楚原因，但她坚持邀请我们去做客。她说话带着哭音，说她很抱歉从未邀请过我们，现在她很想多了解我们一些。”
“你怎么回答她的？”
“我几乎没法拒绝。她人很好，查特又帮了很大的忙……”她耸耸肩，“我说我们会去的。周五晚上六点。”
“真的吗？”我问。
她又耸耸肩：“我想这也不错。虽然有点奇怪，但还不错。”
“哦，好吧，”爸爸说，“周五我不会安排加班了。男孩子们呢？”
“那天没有关禁闭的记录，也不用去打工，但我还没有告诉他们。”
“你确定他们想邀请我们全家？”爸爸问道。
妈妈点点头：“她很坚持。”
看得出来，去罗斯基家吃晚饭的事让爸爸很不自在，但我们俩都知道，这个邀请对妈妈来说意义重大。“好吧。”他说完就去切奶酪和洋葱了。
下午，我懒散地看看书，做做白日梦。第二天在学校，我无法集中精力。我的思绪总是飘到戴维身上。我想象着爷爷奶奶的样子，他们怎样应对一个像他这样的孩子。
我的白日梦里也有许多无花果树的身影，一开始，我以为那是出于哀伤。然后我想到妈妈对无花果树的评价，说它是坚韧的象征。它还是树苗的时候就被损坏过，最终却生存下来了，它长大了。别人觉得它丑，我却从不这样认为。
也许是甲之熊掌，乙之砒霜。我认为很丑的东西，说不定别人却认为很美。
雪莉·斯道尔斯就是个完美的例子！对我来说，她完全一无是处，可是其他人却认为她棒极了。
管他呢。
好吧，我就这样浑浑噩噩地过了一周，直到周四为止。社会科学课上，我们去图书馆查资料，准备著名历史人物的论文。我选了苏珊·B.安东尼和她为选举权所作的斗争为题目，正在翻书的时候，达拉·特莱斯勒站在书架的尽头冲我做手势。
达拉跟我选了几门同样的课，但我们不算真正的朋友，我向身后看了看，以为她在招呼别人。
“过来！”她用口型说，拼命地向我挥着手。
我急忙走过去。她指着一排书后面，小声说：“你听！”
那是加利特的声音，然后是布莱斯。他们谈论的是……我。关于我的鸡，还有沙门氏菌感染，关于布莱斯怎么扔掉我的鸡蛋，以及我如何整修我家的院子。
布莱斯的声音显得很难过，但是，突然间，我全身的血液一下子冻住了。他在说戴维！
然后加利特笑了：“智障？好吧，那能说明很多问题，不是吗？你知道的……我是说，朱莉。”
他们沉默了一会儿。那一刻，我几乎可以肯定他们能听到我怦怦的心跳声，但是布莱斯笑了，他说：“哦，是啊。”
我结结实实地瘫倒在地上。下一秒，他们的声音就消失了。达拉看了看那个角落，然后坐在我身边，说：“哦，朱莉，我非常非常抱歉。我还以为他要坦白他曾经暗恋过你呢。”
“什么？达拉，布莱斯没有暗恋过我。”
“你怎么了？你难道看不出他盯着你的样子？那孩子早就坠入爱河无法自拔了。”
“哦，绝对没有这回事！你刚刚听到他说了，达拉！”
“是的，但是昨天，就在昨天我撞见他盯着你，他说你头发里有只蜜蜂。一只蜜蜂，姑娘。这是不是你听过最糟糕的借口？”
“达拉，你刚才亲耳听到了，我宁愿相信我的头发里真的有只蜜蜂。”
“哦，你以为自己有那么甜？像蜂蜜似的招惹蜜蜂吗？好吧，蜜糖，你能招惹到的唯一一只蜜蜂就是布——莱——斯。真有趣，是不是。但是听到刚才的话，我真想杀了他，姑娘，杀了他。”她站起来，走了出去，又回过头来说，“别担心，我不会多嘴的。”
我只是摇摇头，忘掉达拉的话吧。她错得太离谱了。
我不能忘记的是布莱斯和加利特的话。他们怎么能如此残忍？如此愚蠢？这是不是爸爸成长中时常遇到的事？
我想得越多就越生气。布莱斯有什么权利拿我叔叔寻开心？他敢！
我的脸颊热得像一团火，而心脏像是被打了一个又冷又硬的结。电光石火之间，我明白了——我从布莱斯·罗斯基那里毕业了。让他继续和那双湛蓝眼睛做伴去吧。还有他那假惺惺的笑容，以及……我的初吻。没错！让他留着它好了。我再也不会跟他说话了，永远不会！
我风风火火地跑回书架前，找到两本有关苏珊·B.安东尼的书，然后回到桌子旁边。收拾东西准备离开图书馆的时候，我忽然想起一件事。明天我们要去罗斯基家吃晚饭。
我拉上书包拉链，甩到肩膀上。经历了这些，我当然有权拒绝去他家！不是吗？
Chapter 10
The Visit
JULIANNA
Sunday mornings are peaceful in our house. My father lets himself sleep in. My mother lets herself not fix breakfast. And if my brothers have been out late playing with their band, you won't even know they're around until noon.
Usually I tiptoe out to collect eggs while everyone else is asleep, then spirit a bowl of Cheerios back to my room to have breakfast in bed and read.
But that Sunday — after spending most of the night feeling upset or uneasy — I woke up wanting to do something physical. To shake off the confused way I was still feeling.
What I really needed was a good climb in my sycamore tree, but I settled for watering the lawn while I tried to think of other things. I cranked open the spigot and admired how rich and black the dirt looked as I sprinkled back and forth across the soil. And I was busy talking to my buried seedlings, coaxing them to spring up and greet the rising sun, when my father came outside. His hair was damp from a shower,and he had a grocery sack rolled closed in his hand. "Dad! I'm sorry if I woke you."
You didn't, sweetheart. I've been up for a while.
You're not going to work, are you?
No, I ... He studied me for a moment, then said, "I'm going to visit David."
Uncle David?
He walked toward his truck, saying, "That's right. I ... I should be back around noon."
But Dad, why today? It's Sunday.
I know, sweetheart, but it's a special Sunday.
I turned off the spigot. "Why's that?"
It's his fortieth birthday. I want to see him and deliver a gift, he said as he held up the paper bag. "Don't worry. I'll rustle us up some pancakes for lunch, all right?"
I'm coming with you, I said, and tossed the hose aside. I wasn't even really dressed — I'd just pulled on some sweats and sneakers, no socks — but in my mind there was no doubt. I was going.
Why don't you stay home and enjoy the morning with your mother? I'm sure she would —
I went over to the passenger side of his truck and said, "I'm coming," then climbed inside and slammed the door back in place.
But — he said through the driver's door.
I'm coming, Dad.
He studied me a moment, then said, "Okay,"and put the bag on the bench seat. "Let me leave a note for your mother."
While he was inside, I strapped on the lap belt and told myself that this was good. This was something I should've done years ago. Uncle David was part of the family, part of my father, part of me. It was about time I got to know him.
I studied the paper sack sitting next to me. What was my father bringing his brother for his fortieth birthday?
I picked it up. It wasn't a painting — it was much too light for that. Plus, it made a strange, muted rattling noise when I shook it.
I was just unrolling the top to peek inside when my father came back through the front door. I dropped the sack and straightened up, and when he slid behind the wheel, I said, "It's okay with you, isn't it?"
He just looked at me, his hand on the key in the ignition.
I ... I'm not ruining your day with him or anything, am I?
He cranked the motor and said, "No, sweetheart. I'm glad you're coming."
We didn't say much to each other on the drive over to Greenhaven. He seemed to want to look at the scenery and I, well, I had a lot of questions, but none I wanted to ask. It was nice, though, riding with my father. It was like the silence connected us in a way that explanations never could.
When we arrived at Greenhaven, my father parked the truck, but we didn't get out right away. "It takes some getting used to, Julianna,but it does grow on you. They grow on you. They're all good people."
I nodded, but felt oddly afraid.
Come on, then, he said, taking the sack from the seat. "Let's go inside."
Greenhaven didn't look like any kind of hospital to me, but it didn't look quite like a house, either. It was too long and rectangular for that. The walkway had a faded green awning that covered it, and flower beds alongside with freshly planted pansies that looked muddied and slightly askew. The grass was patchy, with three deep holes dug near the building.
The residents tend the grounds, my father said. "It's part of their occupational training program, and it's therapeutic. Those holes are the future homes of Peach, Plum, and Pear."
Fruit trees?
Yes. The vote caused quite a commotion.
Among the ... residents?
That's right. He swung open one of the glass double doors and said, "Come on in."
It was cool inside. And it smelled of pine cleaner and bleach, with something vaguely pungent underneath.
There wasn't a reception desk or waiting area, just a large intersection with white walls and narrow wooden benches. To the left was a big room with a television and several rows of plastic chairs, to the right were open office doors, and beside us were two pine armoires.One was open, with half a dozen gray sweaters hung neatly in a row.
Good morning, Robert! a woman called through one of the office doors.
Good morning, Josie, my father replied.
She came out to meet us, saying, "David's up and about. Has been since around six. Mabel tells me it's his birthday today."
Mabel is right again. He turned to me and smiled. "Josie, it's my pleasure to introduce my daughter, Julianna. Julianna, meet Josie Gruenmakker."
Well now, isn't this nice, Josie said, clasping my hand. "I recognize you from David's photo album. You're gettin' ready to graduate into high school, isn't that right?"
I blinked at her, then looked at my dad. I'd never really thought of it that way, but I could see that he had. "Yes, I ... I suppose I am."
Josie's the site administrator.
And, Josie added with a laugh, "I'm not graduatin' to nowhere! Been here seventeen years, and I'm staying put." The phone rang and she hurried off, saying, "Gotta get that. I'll meet up with you in a bit. Check the rec room, then his room. You'll find him."
My dad led me around a corner, and as we proceeded down a hallway, the underlying pungent part of the smell got stronger. Like the place had had years of Mystery Pissers, with no one quite neutralizing what had been tagged.
Down the hall was a small person hunched in a wheel-chair. At first I thought it was a child, but as we approached, I could see it was a woman. She had almost no hair, and as she gave my dad a toothless smile, she grabbed his hand and spoke.
My heart bottomed out. The sounds she made were choked and lost on her tongue. Nothing she said was intelligible, yet she looked at my father with such intensity — like of course he understood what she was saying.
To my complete surprise, he said, "You're absolutely right, Mabel. It is today. Which is why I'm here." He held up the grocery sack and whispered, "I've brought him a little gift."
Gwa-aaal, she said.
How'd you know?
She gurgled at him until he patted her hand and said, "I'm much too predictable, I'm afraid. But he enjoys them, and..." He noticed her gaze shift in my direction.
Hoo haa, she said.
This is my daughter, Julianna. Julianna, I'd like you to meet the extraordinary Miss Mabel. She can remember everyone's birthday, and she has a real passion for strawberry milkshakes.
I managed a smile and whispered, "Nice to meet you," but all I got in return was a suspicious scowl.
Well, we're off to David's, my father said, then shook the bag. "Don't spill the beans if he happens by."
I followed him to a bedroom doorway, where he stopped and called, "David? David, it's Robert."
A man appeared at the door. A man I would never have picked out as my father's brother. He was stocky, with thick brown glasses, and his face looked puffy and pale. But he threw his arms around my father's chest and cried, "Wobbad! Yaw heew!"
Yes, I am, little brother.
I followed them into the room and saw that the walls were covered in a collage of puzzles. They'd been glued directly to the walls and even up on the ceiling! It was cozy and comfortable, and interesting. I felt as though I'd entered a quilted cave.
My father held his brother at arm's length and said, "And look who I've brought along!"
For a split second David looked almost frightened, but then my father said, "It's my daughter, Julianna."
David's face broke into a smile. "Ju-weee-an-na!" he cried, then practically tackled me with a hug.
I thought I was going to suffocate. My face was buried as he squeezed the air out of me and rocked from side to side. Then with a giggle he let go and flopped into a chair. "Is mooy bwuf-day!"
I know, Uncle David. Happy birthday!
He giggled again. "Fwank eoow!"
We brought you a present, my dad said as he opened the paper sack.
Before he had it out, before I saw the actual size, I remembered the sound it had made when I'd shaken it in the truck. Of course! I thought. A puzzle.
Uncle David guessed it, too. "A puwwwle?"
Not just a puzzle, my dad said as he pulled it out of the sack. "A puzzle and a pinwheel."
Dad had wrapped the puzzle box up in pretty blue paper and had taped the red-and-yellow pinwheel on as a bow. Uncle David snatched the pinwheel right off and blew. First gently, then fiercely, in great spitty bursts. "Ownge!"he cried between blows. "Ownge!"
Very gently Dad took it from him and smiled. "Red and yellow do make orange, don't they?" David tried to grab it back, but my father said, "We'll take it outside later. The wind will blow it for you," and pressed the puzzle back in his hands.
As the wrapping paper fell in shreds on the floor, I leaned in to see what sort of puzzle my father had bought him and gasped. Three thousand pieces! And the image was simply white clouds and blue sky. No shading, no trees — nothing but the clouds and the sky.
My father pointed to a spot in the center of the ceiling. "I thought it would fit just right over there."
Uncle David looked up and nodded, then lunged for his pinwheel and said, "Owsiiide?"
Sure. Let's go out for a walk. Feel like going down to Mc Elliot's for a birthday ice cream?
Uncle David's head bobbed up and down. "Yaaah!"
We checked out through Josie, then headed down the street. David can't walk very fast because his body seems to want to move inward instead of forward. His feet pigeon-toe and his shoulders hunch in, and he seemed to lean on my father pretty heavily as we moved along.
But he kept that pinwheel in front of him, watching it spin, crying every now and then, "Owwwange, owwwange!"
Mc Elliot's turned out to be a drugstore with an ice cream parlor inside. There was a red-and-white-striped awning over the ice cream counter, and there were little white tables and chairs set in an area with red-and-white-striped wallpaper. It was very festive-looking, especially for being inside a drugstore.
Dad got us all cones, and once we were sitting down, Dad and David did talk to each other some, but mostly David wanted to eat his chocolate fudge swirl. My father smiled at me from time to time, and I smiled back, but I felt disconnected. How many times had the two of them come here for ice cream? How many birthdays had my father celebrated with his brother like this? How long had he known Mabel and Josie and the rest of the people at Greenhaven? How could it be that in all these years, I'd never spent any time with my uncle? It was like my father had a secret life away from me. A complete family away from me.
I didn't like it. Didn't understand it. And I was getting myself pretty worked up about it when David's cone crushed in his grip, causing his ice cream to flop onto the table.
Before my dad could stop him, David picked up the ice cream and tried to cram it back onto the cone. But the cone was shattered and the ice cream fell over again, only this time it landed on the floor.
My dad said, "Leave it, David. I'll get you a new one," but David didn't listen. His chair shot back and he dove after it.
No, David! Let me get you a new one. My dad pulled him by the arm, but David wouldn't budge. He grabbed the ice cream and crammed it back onto what was left of his cone, and when the bottom part of his cone crumbled completely away, he started screaming.
It was awful. He was like a two-hundred-pound infant, throwing a tantrum on the floor. He was yelling words I couldn't understand, and after a minute of trying to calm him down, my father said, "Julianna, can you get him another cone?"
The man behind the counter scooped as fast as he could, but in that short time David knocked over a table and two chairs with his flailing and managed to smear chocolate everywhere. The checkers and customers at the registers seemed frozen with terror — like David was some sort of monster out to destroy the world.
I gave the new cone to my father, who handed it to David, right there on the floor. And while David sat there eating it, my father and I worked around him, putting everything back in order and wiping up the mess.
On the walk back to Greenhaven, David acted like nothing had happened. He spurted into his pinwheel and cried, "Owwwange!" from time to time, but when my dad held open the front door, I could tell that David was tired.
Down in his room David placed the pinwheel on his bed and picked up the puzzle box. "Why don't you take a rest before you get started on it?" my dad asked.
David shook his head. "Naaow."
Okay, then. Let me help you set it up.
My father pulled a card table from beneath the bed, then swung the legs out and snapped them into place. After he had it shoved up against the wall near the bed, he moved a chair close to it and said, "There you are. All set up."
David had the box open and was already sifting through the pieces. "Aaaas a gou wwwone, Wobbad."
I'm glad you like it. You think you might have it done by Wednesday? I can come back and glue it on the ceiling for you then if you'd like.
David nodded, but he was already intent on the puzzle, carefully laying pieces on the table. My father put his hand on his shoulder and said, "I'll see you Wednesday then, okay?"
He nodded.
Will you say good-bye to Julianna?
Baaawye, he said, but he didn't look up from his box of pieces.
See you later, Uncle David. I tried to sound cheerful, but I didn't feel that way.
When we got back into the truck, my dad clicked on his seat belt and said, "So."
I just looked at him and tried to smile.
Are you as exhausted as I am? he said.
I nodded. "Everything was fine — except for the ice cream."
Dad chuckled. "Except for the ice cream." Then he turned serious. "The trouble is, you never know what 'the ice cream' is going to be. Sometimes it's a fly in the room. Sometimes it's the feel of his socks. It's hard to predict everything. Usually getting ice cream is safe." He shook his head and closed his eyes, thinking things I couldn't imagine. Finally he turned the ignition and said, "David lived with your mother and me for a while. Before you kids were born. We thought it would be better for him to live with us than to be in a home, but we were wrong."
But overall, everything went okay today...
He ground the gearshift into reverse. "David has many, many special needs, both emotional and physical. Your mom and I couldn't handle them all. Fortunately he's happy here. They have programs to teach him how to care for himself — how to dress and bathe and brush his teeth, how to act around others and communicate. They go on outings, and he has a job doing mailings for a doctor's office..."
He does?
He goes there every morning during the we
