CHAPTER 5
2738 Words
CHAPTER 5
“What do you think of this one?”
Kennedy looked at the book Reuben held up. She loved the antique smell here, even though she figured the workers at Common Treasures Books were probably at risk for developing lung cancer or some other tragic malady from spending their time in the dust and mildew.
“Catcher in the Rye?” She frowned. “I read that once in tenth grade. Could barely understand it. Baseball and trains, right?”
Reuben chuckled. “Close. Except it was fencing.”
“Oh, really?” Kennedy asked. “I could have sworn it was baseball.”
“Well, there’s the part where ...” Something else caught Reuben’s eye, and he snatched another book off the shelf. “I loved this one!”
Kennedy gawked. “Lord of the Flies? Are you serious? That made me want to barf.”
Reuben was already flipping through the pages, thumbing back and forth, letting his eyes skim over the passages. “This was the very first book I read in English literature.”
Kennedy had nothing to say and strolled around the bend to another section. Reuben followed reluctantly. She pointed to the spine of an old hardback copy of Pride and Prejudice. “You know, I never did get what all the hype was over Mr. Darcy. He was just a rich, eccentric introvert, but about half the girls in my high school had major literary crushes on him.”
Reuben raised an eyebrow. “Really? I found the whole thing dry and hard to follow.”
“It’s not hard to follow.” Kennedy was already scanning other titles on the shelf. “Oh, they have Little Women.” She pulled out the book. “You know, I think my grandma gave me an edition with these same illustrations. I wonder what I did with it.”
Reuben opened the front cover and pointed at the price penciled in the top corner. “You should find it. That’s enough to pay for next semester’s textbooks.”
Kennedy gently placed the volume back on the shelf. “You know, this is one of the only two novels I’ve read that’s actually made me mad.”
Reuben checked the time and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Really? Why’s that?”
“I just always thought Jo should have married Laurie. I was furious when she turned him down.” She watched him button up his coat and asked, “Is it time to go?”
“Pretty soon. Show starts in twenty minutes.”
Kennedy placed the book back on its shelf and bundled up. “Well, next time we come here, we need to find something that we’ve both read and we both like.”
Reuben held the shop door open and nodded at the owner. “We might be here for days if we tried that.”
The wind had picked up, and Kennedy tucked her scarf into her leather jacket to keep it from flapping in her face. She increased her pace. They hadn’t spent very long at the bookshop, but it was the first time in weeks she hadn’t thought about classwork or finals or kidnappers or anything horrible like that. The campus doctor didn’t know what he was talking about. She didn’t need therapy. She just needed a chance to relax.
The Opera House was only two blocks away from Common Treasures, so they walked instead of taking the T. Kennedy asked Reuben how he spent Christmas in Kenya, but the wind was howling so loud she had to stand practically shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip with him to hear his response.
“We’d always go up country to my grandfather’s farm.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all that different from family gatherings here, I assume. We walked to church on Christmas Eve. Didn’t get home until after midnight. On Christmas Day, my grandfather’s first wife would butcher one of the cows, and then we’d all ...”
“You butchered a whole cow?” Kennedy recalled how much of a fuss her mom made over a fifteen-pound turkey.
“Well, I didn’t. Grandmother did.”
“How did your family go through that much meat?” Kennedy didn’t know if Kenyans “up country” would have freezers or even the electricity to run them. Reuben had talked a lot about growing up in the city, but this was the first time he had mentioned anything outside Nairobi.
Reuben laughed. “You’d be surprised at how fast a hundred people can eat a cow.”
Kennedy leaned forward. “Did you say a hundred?”
“Around there. It changes each year depending on who’s gotten married, who’s had a new baby, and who’s passed away.”
Kennedy thought back to the largest family gathering she could remember. It was probably her grandma’s funeral. The wake was for relatives only, and she guessed there were twenty people there, certainly no more. Before she moved to Yanji, getting together with “family” usually meant her grandma, Aunt Lilian, Uncle Jack, and sometimes Uncle Jack’s two teenagers who spent every other holiday with him. Kennedy had figured it out once when she was younger. They were her step-cousins-in-law, and once Aunt Lilian and Uncle Jack split up, she had to tack an ex to the front of that and make the title longer and more confusing. She hadn’t seen them in over a decade and couldn’t remember the older boy’s name anymore. Still, they were the closest thing Kennedy had to extended family around her own age.
“So where do a hundred people sleep?” she asked, thinking about how uncomfortable Aunt Lilian’s roll-away trundle bed was.
“Wherever we can.”
Kennedy’s mind was reeling, like water molecules zipping around in a steaming pot. “I still can’t imagine having that many cousins. How many aunts and uncles do you have?”
Reuben furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure. I counted once, but I probably forgot a few.”
“Well,” Kennedy tried again, “how many kids did your grandparents have?”
“Twenty-three.”
Kennedy’s eyes grew as wide as the pipette bulbs in her chemistry lab. “Your poor grandma!”
Reuben laughed. “Well, that number was spread out over three wives.”
“Three? That’s a lot of times to be widowed.”
“No, three at the same time. They’re all still alive. It wasn’t all that unheard of back in his day, you know.”
“Really? They still do that there?”
“Not so much anymore, but yeah, in the past it was common.” Reuben’s voice had grown even softer, so Kennedy could hardly hear him over the wind.
“Will it be hard for you not going back this year?” she asked.
He looked away. Quickened his pace. “It wouldn’t be the same even if I went back now.”
A heaviness clouded the air between them like fog in a beaker. She had known Reuben long enough to recognize these brooding moods of his. She forced false enthusiasm into her voice. “Well, it’s like I already told you, if you don’t want to spend Christmas by yourself, I’m sure my pastor and his wife would love to ...”
“Thanks, but it’s fine. Really. Here we are.” Reuben was apparently ready to end their conversation as soon as they arrived at the Opera House, and Kennedy didn’t press matters. They passed through the line and joined the other Nutcracker enthusiasts filing in to find their places.
“I thought it would be more crowded in here,” Reuben stated as an usher led them to their seats in the highest balcony.
Kennedy was glad to hear him sounding more like himself. He could never stay very serious for more than a few minutes. She stared down at the hundreds of empty chairs below. “Maybe everyone’s running late. That wind is awful.”
Reuben leaned forward, his eyes wide.
“Do they have shows like this in Kenya?” she asked.
He didn’t seem to hear her question over the sound of the tuning orchestra. “Look down there!” He pointed. “I think I just saw one of the dancers when the usher opened that door.”
Kennedy hadn’t seen anything. “That’s probably the entrance to backstage or something.”
“I wonder if we could go in there.”
Before long, the lights dimmed, and Reuben finally sat in his seat. His right leg bounced like pressurized carbonation in a jar of soda. Kennedy was glad they were this high up or else he might have run right onstage in his enthusiasm. She had never cared all that much for The Nutcracker. She had seen it a few times in Manhattan before her family moved to China, but it had never really enthralled her. Still, she was glad to be here with Reuben, glad to get her mind off everything that had plagued her recently.
When the orchestra began its first strain, Reuben sucked in his breath. She had to smile. As much time as the two of them had spent together over the past semester, she had never considered him the type to love ballet so much.
The first colorful dancers graced the stage, and he was completely lost. Sometimes she caught him keeping beat with one hand as if he were an assistant conductor. During the nutcracker’s fight with the Rat King, Reuben leaned forward in his chair so far she was afraid he might topple right off the balcony. As soon as the curtain closed for intermission, even before the lights came on, he sprang to his feet. “Let’s go!”
“What are you doing?”
He grabbed her hand and plucked up both their coats. “There’s empty seats down there. I want to see everything closer.”
On a normal night, Kennedy would have protested. She would have brought up issues like ticket prices and cranky ushers and would have forced Reuben to see reason. But his enthusiasm was catching. Besides, this was her night to throw worry to the wind and let it blow away into the Charles River, never to bother her again. They raced down the plush staircases to the lower level. A white-haired usher gave them both a quizzical look but didn’t say anything when they scurried down the aisle.
“How close were you planning to go?” Kennedy whispered as Reuben rushed toward the front.
“As close as we can.” He stared for a minute, paused, and squinted at the rows. “Over here,” he finally said. “This area was pretty empty.”
“Are you sure nobody was here?” Kennedy asked as he set his coat down on one of the chairs in the fourth row.
“If someone was, we’ll just say we forgot where we were and move somewhere else. No problem.”
Kennedy wanted to protest, but Reuben wasn’t even looking at her anymore. He was staring straight up at the huge dome ceiling, with all the graceful cherubs and dancers frolicking in the painted clouds.
“I’ve seen some beautiful things back home,” he breathed, “but not like this.”
Kennedy had to admit it was gorgeous. If it hadn’t been for Reuben, would she even have thought to look up?
“So, are you having a good time?” he asked.
Kennedy set her leather coat across the back of her chair. “Yeah.” She took in a deep breath, thankful she hadn’t had a single coughing fit since her exam.
The lights dimmed, the hum of conversation died down, and the sounds of the orchestra softly tuning their instruments billowed out to Reuben and Kennedy’s new seats. Thankfully, nobody pestered them for their chairs, and none of the ushers seemed to notice or care that they had slipped so close to the front even though they only carried cheap student tickets. Reuben’s leg bounced even more quickly when the curtain opened and revealed the ground fog and majestic backdrop of the Land of Sweets. For the entire second act, during the parts where she might have been tempted to lose herself in daydreams, Kennedy just glanced over at Reuben, saw his enraptured expression in the dim lights from the stage, and decided this was a perfect evening out.
Now that she thought about it, this was the first time she and Reuben had been off campus together without their textbooks and lab assignments in tow. She couldn’t even remember a meal in the student union with him that didn’t consist of at least some degree of studying. Had she really been so serious all semester? Layer after layer of exhaustion and anxiety lifted off her shoulders as she sat, mesmerized and enchanted just like Clara beside the prince.
When the curtain closed, Reuben clapped so loud it shot vicarious pain to Kennedy’s palms. He didn’t say anything as they got their coats and worked their way back to the aisle. Kennedy was about to follow the crowds out the main doors, but Reuben took her by the elbow.
“Wait a minute. I want to see something.”
She hesitated before he dragged her to the side door he had spotted from the balcony. A short, stocky usher with spectacles scowled a few feet in front of it. He had a clipboard in his hand and was talking to two well-dressed adults. After a minute, he put his hand to his earpiece and then waved the patrons through.
“Back here,” Reuben whispered. “Just act like you know what you’re doing.” Bypassing a few others who had formed a short line, he slipped in behind the two going through, and Kennedy followed, expecting any minute to hear the angry protests of the old man.
The door shut behind them.
“We made it.” He tightened his hold on her arm.
Kennedy didn’t know whether to laugh or chide him. “I can’t believe you actually did that.”
He ran, tugging her down a set of stairs to a hallway and down a small side corridor, giggling like a guilty child.
“Come on.” Reuben pulled her arm again. “I want to see if we can meet some of the dancers.”
“I really don’t think we’re supposed to ...” Kennedy stopped as a whole flock of little girls scurried past.
“Aren’t those the ones who came out of that woman’s dress?” Reuben waved at the ballerinas, who hardly noticed him. He ran down the next hall, and Kennedy followed behind, feeling lighter and more playful than she had in years. In all her time living in Yanji, had she ever done anything this spontaneous?
Reuben hurried straight ahead, but she thought she heard someone behind them. The near-sighted usher, maybe, ready to put an end to their mischief? She stopped and spun around, her heart gripped with foreboding. Nobody was there. She let out a sigh and turned back toward Reuben.
He was gone.
The hallway was infinitely narrower than she remembered it. Why did they keep the lights so bright down here? She had turned so many times she couldn’t figure out where she was anymore in relation to the rest of the Opera House. Was this beneath the stage? There were no marked exits, no friendly old ladies with flashlights ready to show you the way. Where did Reuben go?
The tickle returned to the back of her throat. She hadn’t thought to bring any cough drops. Not even a water bottle. Where had he run off to? Why hadn’t he waited?
A chill covered her whole body although she was wearing her new coat. What if someone had followed them? What if they saw her go down beneath the Opera House? A sort of Phantom-of-the-Opera-type menace who would entrap her beneath the theater and hold her hostage in his cold, cement cell? Her wrists chaffed with the memory of handcuffs, and her lungs constricted without forcing out any air.
Where was Reuben? Had someone attacked him?
Her diaphragm spasmed. She couldn’t inhale.
A door slammed shut. Was someone locking her in? Would she be stuck down here forever? Would anybody even know she was gone?
Help.
She slipped up to the wall for support. She couldn’t hold herself up anymore. Had someone sucked all the air out from the basement?
Her cellphone. She could call Reuben. Call the police. Somebody would get her out of here. Somebody ...
She fumbled through the zipper pockets of her backpack. Where was it?
Her fingers finally clenched the phone, which she had flipped off during the performance. She punched it on. Why did they take so long to start up again? A light flickered on the screen. A familiar, ominous tone.
No!
The batteries were low.
There was still enough power to make one call, wasn’t there? Please let there be enough. She found Reuben’s number in her contacts.
Please pick up.
Tiny bars danced across the screen. What was taking so long? She fought the urge to fling the phone to the ground. There wasn’t enough reception down here.
Three short beeps, and then her screen flashed with the message: Call failed.
Fear jolted through her entire body. What if this was a setup?
“Kennedy?”
She jumped, flinging her bag around. It hit Reuben in the gut.
“Oof.”
She forced herself to laugh, swallowing away the lump in her throat. “Don’t scare me like that!” Did she sound like someone who had just been startled? Or did she sound like someone about to have a nervous breakdown?
“I’m sorry.”
She sighed as her breath came back to her in a rush. “I didn’t know where you went.” She blinked her eyes. She had been taken aback, that was all. A little jolt. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to be ashamed of.
“I should have told you, but I thought you were behind me. Look. I just got a picture with the old guy. The uncle or grandfather or whoever he was.” He showed her the picture. “Come on, I want to get one with both of us.”
Kennedy shook her head. “You know, I’m actually getting really hungry. Do we have time to stop for something to eat?” Anything to get out of this basement.
“Angelo’s Pizza?”
Kennedy forced excitement into her voice. “Perfect.”
Reuben pointed. “I saw an exit back here. I think it goes right to the street level.”
Kennedy followed a pace behind, squeezing back her hot and silent tears of shame.
- Writer
