Chapter Twenty
Joel
THE SKY WAS gray as the clouds rolled in from the coast. A thick layer of fog started to cover the highways and roads, including Ruby Nolafez’s little house underneath a row of cherry trees whose fallen blossoms began to tumble to the green grass. Deep inside the house, in the pits of the basement, an old woman flipped through a portfolio of ancient, yellowed photographs showcasing her young adult life, back in the far-off 1960s, and the man she fell in love with, Rick Nolafez, an immigrant who proved to be quite an obnoxious man, but someone with whom Ruby spent nearly forty years of her life.
Of course, by the time Juliet needed her father most, Rick died from stomach cancer, and Ruby was not a big fan of her children. There were three of them: Jonson, Libby, and Juliet. Jonson had moved to Oregon in the ’90s, Libby was in Atlanta, and Juliet was the only one who remained behind. Juliet liked to be around her mom, but the feeling was not mutual, and though they spent a good deal of time together, that time was usually brimmed with fights and tension. Ruby liked fighting; it was in her DNA.
She claimed Joel’s full attention on this Wednesday morning, placing him under a barrage of historical facts, as Chloe was “busy” at a neighbor’s house, and Juliet had left to shop at the grocery. So that left Joel completely catapulted into Ruby’s storytelling fad, and he wanted to jump off a ledge. He’d rather stub a toe than listen to this, but he acted interested, and anyway, Manny was going to pick him up in thirty minutes. Maybe Manny would enjoy a few hours of American culture in 1964.
As she pushed a yellow nail across a letter dear old Rick had written, Joel felt like had entered the true twilight zone. He ignored her as she chatted about everything, contemplating how everything had turned so wacky in such a short amount of time.
Finally, he gave up and went upstairs to take a bite of lemon meringue pie. Ruby’s house was very old, from the 1920s or so, and it smelled like it. Like an old, friendly grandma’s, which was partially accurate. Partially.
Then he heard several raps on the door, and he hurried off to open it. A light dusting of rain spread across Manny’s spiked brown hair, and he walked in, shaking off. “Hey, man!”
Joel had a random memory then, back in high school, in the dim lights of a hallway. Lightning cracked a white line through the window, and beside that window, a girl stood, with a gathering of her friends, staring outside. While they all laughed at some corny joke, the girl was intently observing, watching, analyzing.
That girl, of course, was Sarah Towson, and with the hint of water droplets falling from the tips of her hair, she dazzled.
“Man, are you listening?” Manny shouted. He took a large portion of cake from the dish and smiled. “Where’s Grandma?”
“She’s downstairs. I don’t know if she’ll ever come up. I’ve been drowning in photo albums, and I’m about to lose it. Go speak Spanish to her or something. Serenade her underneath that blanket of your sultry accent.”
Manny smiled. “Well, I don’t know. I guess I’d do it for you. What’s the payment? I’m already driving you over to my apartment. That’s brotherly love if I’ve ever heard it in my life.”
“I’d do it for you if you were in my place.” Joel took a gulp of water from a nearby pitcher. He was just glad it wasn’t tea. Joel could not stand tea.
As Manny ambled around the kitchen, looking at pictures and trinkets, Joel debated telling him what he’d discovered, how he possibly had a little sister named Sofia Temprend, a young child whose mother was a schoolteacher. How his little sister was mixed. How angry he got when he heard that word, because he knew it offended his cousin Emily. He wondered if Manny would even be a good person in whom to confide, because Manny was known for taking things in a joking manner, and this was nothing but serious.
In the end, it was his grandmother who distracted him. The old woman appeared at the top of the stairs, wielding a cane, which she used to swat Manny across the head when the guy touched a nearby figurine.
“That’s older than your parents, and you’re going to get your germs all over it! What’s wrong with you?”
Manny grabbed his head and backed away. He began quickly, “No hablo ingles, señora.” He hurried away, scurrying behind his friend.
Joel nodded. “Manny only speaks Spanish.”
Ruby straightened a bit, placing her cane on the ground to steady herself. “Is that so? Somehow, I doubt that.”
When he feigned confusion and slurred a line of Spanish words, Joel shrugged. “We speak via hand movements.”
“Do you mean sign language, young man?” Ruby asked, lifting her cane into the air, pointing it like a bow at his chest. “Are you punking me?”
“Grandma, c’mon. Why’re you being mean to me in front of our guest?”
“If he don’t understand what I’m saying, why’d you care?”
A bubble of laughter emitted from Manny’s throat as Ruby hurried to him and patted him on the shoulder, even though he stood a good few inches above her. She leaned into him and whispered, “Your friend here is the stupidest goofball I’ve ever seen. Want food? That’s definitely a way of breaking cultural differences.”
Joel signed some random phrase, and his friend nodded with a large, goofy smile on his lips. “Yes, Grandma. Food is always welcomed.”
“Good, Joely, because God knows you need more of it. Look at your skinny legs.”
Joel smiled, sticking a strawberry onto his tongue. “Thanks, Grandma.”
She began talking to Manny about the most random things, and he mostly nodded with little interruptions of nods or shakes of the head, just because he had to keep the façade going.
Just like Joel had to keep his façade going. He had a sister.