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July 25, 2009
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6 Degrees by Haley A. (Sunsetsandsunrises)
For this I was inspired by the whole 6 Degrees of Seperation idea, and kind of the way that one event can trigger changes in seemingly unrelated ways. This is just a draft, I have a lot of work to do on it. You can send me feedback at storiestold@rocketmail.com, it would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.
On February 5, Ned Gainsworth died. He was 55 years old. Ned died of a heart attack while rushing out the door to get to work on time. He was an auto mechanic who now owned his own garage in rural Virginia. He was planning to retire in a few years and hand his business over to his oldest son, Bobby, who was an auto mechanic in the shop already.
Ned had one sister, Melinda, who had migrated up to Maine some years before his death. She had loved her brother very much, and missing him was her one regret about moving so far away. Melinda, her husband, and their daughter, Jessica, would trek down to Virginia at least five times a year in order to visit with Ned and his family.
Melinda was a dental hygienist in a nighttime dentist’s office. They were open late so that working customers could get their teeth cleaned without missing work. Melinda liked her job because she got to meet a lot of people working in a dentist’s office. They didn’t talk much while their teeth were being cleaned, but she could speculate about what some of them were like, which made her life interesting. She liked the hours because she could be there when Jess got home from school and because she had a lot of time to get things done during the day. Melinda had a habit of chewing gum, even though she knew it was bad for her. She just couldn’t stand the taste of the sugarless kinds.
At 2:34 on the Wednesday that was February 5, Melinda was at home, reading a magazine and chewing bubblegum when she was interrupted by a phone call. It was her sister-in-law, Noreen, sadly calling to inform her that Ned had died. Melinda hung up the phone, went back to the table and blew a big bubble with her gum. She stared at it cross eyes for a minute, and she noted the swirls in the milky pink surface and the places where the round orb seemed to stretch more than in others. The bubble then popped on her face.
She stared at the table for three minutes, in utter shock. Then she got up and collected herself. She made three calls.
First, she placed a call to her office. Telling Dr. Ventsworthy that she would be out of work for a while.
Next she called her husband, Ted, where he worked as a foreman in a paper clip factory. She told him not to worry, and made plans to drive down to Virginia the next day. Melinda wanted to drive down because they always drove down, she didn’t want the visit to her nieces and nephews and Noreen down in Virginia to be any different than their other visits had ever been, but she knew that the deep seated coldness that would travel with them all the way from Maine and into Virginia would make the trip different no matter what. Underneath it all though, Melinda didn’t want to take a plane down to Virginia because she didn’t want to see the other families. She didn’t want to see the Johnson clan, 23 strong, with matching orange t-shirts traveling down to Virginia to see a bunch of Civil War battlefields because she knew that there would be an Uncle Joe or an Uncle Fred to contend with. She didn’t want to be imagining little Ashley as her Jessica wide eyed on the way down to visit her mother’s brother Tom.
Her third call was to her daughter’s school.
Jessica didn’t really like or dislike her school. It was bearable. Jess had one best friend, named Jonah. She enjoyed reading memoirs and watching sitcoms on television, but not ones that were taped in front of a live audience, because she couldn’t stand the synthetic sound of the laughter. Jess painted her nails assorted rainbow colors, because she liked the way they looked when she splayed out her fingers across a contrasting surface. She made it a rule never to chip off her nail polish, because they looked kind of sad half covered in paint. She made her way through school, as she made her way through life, since when you are a full time student still living with your parents and without a car, school is life, not very noticed, but still interesting all the same. She had dreams and goals of her own, and was confident that she wouldn’t be remembered by a good three quarters of the student body that she was a part of after graduation. This suited her just fine.
Jessica and Jonah were in the process of switching classes when an aide from the principal’s office came out and ushered Jess into the room. Jonah waited outside patiently like he was obligated to do as a best friend while Jess received her phone call inside. Over the phone, Jess’s mother broke the news to her about her Uncle Ned, and told her that she would be over to pick her up as soon as possible. Without words Jess handed the phone over to the secretary, and trudged out of the office.
Once outside she told Jonah, “My Uncle Ned is dead.” After this matter of fact statement Jessica promptly burst into tears. She shuffled over to her locker and put on her boots, jacket, scarf, and earmuffs. After throwing a random assortment of books into her bag, which Jonah shouldered she planted herself on a bench outside to wait for her mother.
Jess’s insides felt like they had been twisted around a big rock. As she sobbed she clenched in her stomach muscles until they hurt. As she frantically tried to wipe away the tears that sprang to her eyes she could make out purple smudges of nail polish in the corners, they seemed to be the only things that were real in the shimmering frozen landscape of Maine in February.
She didn’t want to drive down to Virginia. She didn’t want to sit locked in the car with her mother and father who would be grieving just as hard as she was. At least on a plane she would be able to see other people. Other people who had suitcases full of colors other than black. She wanted to see a flight attendant with a toothpaste white smile who would bring her Coke and a bag of pretzels and tell her not to worry if there was turbulence on the flight because that’s what flight attendants did. And maybe if Jess pretended hard enough then the Coke and pretzels might belong to some other girl who was going to change planes in Richmond and go to Florida instead and go to Disneyland and when the flight attendant told her not to worry about the turbulence then maybe she would feel better because turbulence would be all she had been worrying about.
She was glad Jonah was there with her, she didn’t know what she would have done without him to help her gather her things and just sit with her. She felt like she was fading away and he was the only thing keeping her in reality.
Jonah was sitting next to Jess on the bench in silence. When she came out of the office he had just known that something was terribly, horribly wrong. He had heard stories of Jessica’s Uncle Ned and his big belly laugh, which she had imitated for him. He knew about Ned’s dated moss green Jeep that he had fixed up until it was better than new and how Jess loved it. He had promised to give it to Jess one of these years to take back up to Maine with her, since he had enough cars already.
He had a car of his own that he wanted, a black sedan that belonged to a bachelor living down the street from him. It was a car that could go anywhere and not be out of place. Anywhere was where Jonah wanted to be. Anywhere out of the same town where he had been for his entire life. Where he could walk down the street without running into at least four ladies telling him to say hello to his mother, two men patting him on the back and saying how much he took after his father and six school kids who he didn’t care to talk to and who didn’t care to talk to him. He took an anonymous job that he didn’t really care for as a stock boy in a local supermarket to save up the funds for his car.
Jonah rubbed his hands together softly, he had followed Jess outside with her bag, and hadn’t bothered to go to his locker to retrieve any of his winter gear; the deep chill was a small price to pay for being there for his friend. As he looked over at her sideways out of the corner of his eye, Jonah felt a sadness in him. A sadness for Jess, and everything she was going through.
Jonah was of the opinion that sadness, and all emotions for that matter were to be respected. Jonah’s way of honoring them was to write them down. He kept a cardboard journal with him at all times where he wrote about what he was thinking at any given moment, with drawings, words, just whatever he could do to get whatever was curling itself around his mind out on paper.
He really wanted to describe Jess now, but he didn’t really think it was the best time. The way her body curled itself into a C shape with her shoulders slumped over. And the way her hands rested slightly bent at the fingers and cupped around her cheek and temple with her forehead crinkled in an upset way with her hair falling into her face, as if keeping it behind the band of her earmuffs was something that took an effort that she now lacked. She reminded him of a little bluebird who had been pushed out of the nest. There was a mixture of fear, sadness, and loneliness in her eyes. There also seemed to be a tint of uncertainty there as well. Wondering about what to do next. The trouble was that Jonah had no idea either.
He loved her. He realized this, and had for a while, but he didn’t really know how to tell her. He loved her so much in that moment and wanted to take some of her sadness for himself, but didn’t know how. So, he just hugged her close like any best friend would and whispered “I love you” so quietly he wasn’t even sure he was saying it out loud into her hair.
Jonah had skipped his last period class to sit outside with Jess. In a class of almost 30 kids, none of whom happened to be good friends with Jonah almost no one noticed his absence.
The only person who did notice was a girl named Sandra who sat directly behind Jonah to his right. When Jonah wrote in his little brown spiral notebook he carefully guarded it with his arm to protect it from being read by anyone who wasn’t him. Only, he couldn’t protect it from Sandra’s eyes looking over his shoulder.
A lot of Jonah’s thoughts didn’t make much sense to her. She didn’t know what was going on in his life, or who he was writing about, or why. She had never spoken to him before and all she really knew about him was that he was quiet, inside of class and out of it; he seemed pretty smart though. And she had seen him hanging out a lot with a girl. Well, and she knew what he wrote in the book.
Sandra was one of the people who people knew about. She had long silky blonde hair and carried expensive purses around school. Most of the student body knew about all of her relationships, friendships, and what she ate for breakfast that morning. Jonah seemed to be one of the few people who didn’t know and didn’t care. Sandra admired this about him.
She also admired his journal. She loved last period class because she got to see what was new in it. Unfortunately, since she didn’t care to pay attention to her last period class when Jonah wasn’t there she was left to her thoughts.
At home Sandra liked to listen to alternative music and watch marine biology shows on the Discovery Channel. She thought that maybe a marine biologist wouldn’t be such a bad job. There weren’t any people to worry about impressing, and fish didn’t really seem to care much what your hair looked like, they didn’t really notice if you had hair or not.
At school Sandra was someone to be admired. She strutted around school like she owned the place and didn’t talk incessantly, so when she did say something everyone knew it was important. What she also learned from being quiet was that you could hear a lot of things that no one thought you did.
Like hearing about the problems with her dad’s job. Downsizing, layoffs, and single income had become part of Sandra’s parents’ daily vocabulary. The fear that she might come home and have to sit down to a talk from her parents about how Daddy had lost his job ruled Sandra’s life. She was afraid to open the door after the bus dropped her off. She was worried, and didn’t want anyone to know how worried she was. Sandra had never felt so alone, knowing that she couldn’t tell her parents how she felt and risk agitating them, but at the same time wanting them to just tell her that it would be alright.
Unfortunately for her this wasn’t possible.
Sandra looked out the window and saw the quiet winter breeze ruffling through the branches of the tall Maine firs that were stationed outside the window. She wondered if that could be like someone’s mind. A harsh wind blowing around all the branches that sway haphazardly, but as long as you were on the other side of the window you couldn’t feel the breeze, and if you didn’t bother to look you wouldn’t even notice that it was there.
She needed to let someone else know what was going on. Just for her own peace of mind. Sandra realized that she couldn’t be stuck looking at some kid’s journal wishing she had one of her own and a best friend like he had for the rest of her whole life. So she ripped out a piece of paper and wrote a note.
I want to be a marine biologist. I bet you didn’t know that. What do you want to be? And when I do I’m going to cut my hair short, because the fish don’t care and it just gets in the way. Don’t you agree? Also, I need a friend. I’m sorry if this is really weird to you, but my dad might lose his job. He works at Primary Advertising and they are talking about downsizing. My parents talk about it all the time. They don’t know that I know, but it scares me. I don’t really have anyone to talk to, so if you’re interested in listening to me worry and complain then let me know. It would be a big help. You seem nice.
- Sandra M.
After class Sandra slipped the note in the locker next to hers. She wondered a little if she would get a reply, or if the girl next to her would tell the whole school. It would be disappointing if she did, not very surprising with the way gossip spreads, but she already felt better knowing that it was out there in the world.
The girl next to Sandra was named Lia. Her favorite color was purple, and she always had mints with her. She wished she was an old movie star and wore cat-eye glasses because they reminded her of them. She had never spoken to Sandra before, but the had had lockers next to one another since grade school, since they were assigned alphabetically.
Lia was quiet. She worked at a video rental place downtown which fed her movie addiction and when she wasn’t working there she was typically watching movies she had brought home from there. She had friends from school, but she liked watching her movies by herself, it made them feel more personal that way.
She was surprised to get Sandra’s note in her locker, as the two girls had never spoken. Lia had seen her around as she was constantly at her locker on Lia’s right, and she had always respected Sandra. She reminded Lia somewhat of an old film star, beautiful and admired, but with a sense of grace and poise that, in Lia’s opinion, had almost died out in recent years.
Lia couldn’t wait to start writing her own movies and bring back some of that class. Her heroines would be soft-spoken, ladylike but command such power in their speech and even in their expressions that they would never need to act in any other way. She had already started working on some, but she knew that they would never evolve into anything more until she had experienced the things she wanted to write about herself, until she became more strong but poised like her characters. She was willing to wait for this.
When she read the note, she immediately played it out in her mind, the irony of the fact that her father also worked at Primary Advertising and was facing the same concerns as Sandra’s. The lesson the film would make as the two seemingly different girls bonded over their shared situation. She imagined the eloquent words that she would use to comfort this person who had reached out to her.
As Lia thought about it though, she realized that in this drama, the real heroine was Sandra. She was the round character and Lia was just in a supporting role. Sandra was the one faced with conflict who had risen to the occasion and fought against the fears that had been suppressing her. She reached out to Lia, but Sandra was the one who would be growing and changing, the protagonist of the story.
Lia thought about what it would be like to reach out to a total stranger, how difficult to put something to paper that you had been scared to tell anyone, and then to actually send it out into the world, and trust Lia with the secret.
Lia herself was afraid to even enter any of the dozens of screenwriting contests she had found on the Internet and dutifully saved to her computer. She was saving them for someday, when she was ready, when she was proud enough of her work. But as she waited, the deadline for each competition passed her by. She wondered if entering something would be any more difficult than displaying personal feelings to a stranger.
She left Sandra a note in reply on her favorite powder blue notebook paper explaining how their situations were similar, expressing her admiration for Sandra’s bravery at leaving the note in the first place, and inviting her over for a screening of 1963’s Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn and Carey Grant. Lia left out the part about how she had never shared Charade with anyone before.
In the early afternoon lull behind the register at the video store right after school Lia began composing dialogue on a piece of receipt. She was determined to meet the next deadline.
