Dream Me(27)

It was painful to watch, and after a while I couldn’t take it anymore, so I went back inside.

__________

At some point, about halfway through the program, LeGrand sauntered in looking like he’d just woken up. His hair was even scruffier and his eyes even sleepier than the day before. He veered off to the luncheon table, perhaps looking for coffee and a donut, and finding nothing but water he looked over at me and grinned sheepishly.

“Whoops . . . I guess I missed lunch today.”

I was angry at him. I couldn’t begin to comprehend the mindset of people like the Buells who live by rules that don’t apply to everyone else. He’d made a commitment to Mattie Lynn . . . to Alonso. How much did that mean to him? Apparently nothing.

“There was no lunch today.” I tried to keep all the humor out of my voice and it wasn’t hard since I was still furious with his father.

“So what part of California are you from?” Lunch didn’t seem to be a big deal.

“I think Alonso’s out there . . . if you were planning on working with him today.”

“Alonso? He’s here? No shit?”

“Well, yeah!” I knew I wasn’t delivering the extra special VIP treatment but I was really pissed off.

“He told me yesterday he was dropping out of the program and I asked him to text me last night to let me know for sure. Which he did.”

This actually had me a little perplexed. It didn’t fit with the whole scenario I’d constructed in my head, the one where LeGrand would be the convenient repository for all my hatred of his father.

“Oh. I guess he must have changed his mind because he’s here, hitting with Suellen.”

“Hot dog! I’d better go rescue him in that case. Hitting with Suellen will guarantee he won’t come back.”

By then he was standing right next to me, having pulled off one of those mystifying moves where you don’t even realize he’s in motion until he’s there. Maybe he wasn’t like his dad, I’d have to give him the benefit of the doubt. But there was one way they were alike which was obvious at that point. They both smelled of alcohol in the middle of the day.

__________

The ranks of the friends dwindled as the days went on until, by the end of the first week, only six seemed likely to stay. Those six, mostly boys, included Kiet, who was blossoming before my eyes; Alonso, who was dying before my eyes; and James and LaShawn, who were both showing a lot of promise in tennis and seemed to enjoy the game.

With every kid who dropped out of the program, Mattie Lynn focused even more intensely on Kiet. At first I thought it was because losing her personal friend would have been devastating not only to the program’s future but also to her own self-worth. But it became clear she genuinely liked Kiet, and he was crazy about her. He was never going to be another Andre Agassi, but his confidence was soaring.

Good for him, I thought. And good for Mattie Lynn.





BABE’S BLOG


My life is settling into a weirdly happy routine. For some people the word routine is anything but happy, but to me it’s always good. It means stability. Not moving to somewhere new. And now it also means something else.

Zat, every single night.

Every night I search for him in my dreams. I don’t plan it that way but my dreams automatically begin with thoughts of him.

Sometimes I see him sitting in a chair in the corner of a room, quietly observing the movie playing inside my head—for isn’t that what dreams are?

My dead grandma might show up, or an old friend from middle school. Occasionally, I introduce the supporting actors of my dreams to Zat and he stands up and joins us, always happy to get to know them, to talk to them.

Mom and Dad love Zat, even though they don’t know him in the waking world.

“Why don’t you bring him around more often?” Mom asks one day when our entire family, including my brothers, are inexplicably living in the middle of a department store.

Dad, who’s barbecuing while the department store customers gawk at us, suggests having him over for dinner that night.

“He’s always full of interesting ideas,” Dad says. “That boy comes up with things I’ve never thought about in exactly the way he presents them. Don’t know what it is about him but you could do worse, Babe.”

When Zat and I climb under the covers of my bed after dinner that night, we’re careful to stay on opposite sides. We keep looking at each other and I’m conscious of every move he makes, even when I try to turn away from him (though that doesn’t last long). We’re in the middle of the bedroom furniture department and the store seems to be open 24/7.

At times, things are even more awkward. Once Perry shows up and is stubbornly arguing with me before breaking down in tears. I turn to look at Zat, half hidden by a shadow, but he shakes his head and puts a finger to his lips so I know not to speak to him while Perry is there.

“I feel for him,” he says later. “He’s obviously in love with you.”

I learn that the less intense my dreams of Zat, the less intense my headaches upon awakening. But I’d gladly accept a violent headache if it means getting closer to Zat, although it’s always a frightening experience.

__________

Mai’s the other half of the best part of my new life. We’re so different and yet so much alike. We talk to each other about everything, or almost everything. I never mention Zat; I’m not sure how she’ll react. I don’t want to lose the one best friend I have in the waking world. Because of Zat, I also never tell her about my blog. I’ll always be grateful to Earl for steering me to the fish market on that day, which feels like a long time ago, at least in my world where a long time is measured in months, sometimes weeks. We hang out a lot at the beach, mostly at night when neither of us have to work.