Early Warning

IN THE CAR, Janet felt more comfortable. She had given Aunt Lillian the lavender bar, which was her second favorite. She thought of it as the last piece of herself that she was leaving behind in a place she had loved but was finished with. She no longer yearned to have the snapshot of Tim on his bike squinting into the sun that had been taken the summer she spent with them. She was almost in that picture — just as Uncle Arthur lifted the camera, a bee buzzed by, and Janet ducked to the left. If you looked closely, her shadow was there in the bottom corner. Whenever any of her teachers at Sweet Briar had used the word “paradox,” Janet thought of that picture — her shadow in his picture, his shadow in her life.

They drove along. Aunt Lillian always held the wheel as though the car could leap out of her hands at any moment — Tim had said that once.

Aunt Lillian asked, “What are you doing after graduation?”

“I’m moving to California.” It was the first time Janet had uttered this aloud. She spoke with confidence, she thought. “I met some kids who have a house in Oakland. One guy is a mailman and one works for Safeway, and two of the girls are at Berkeley. I met them all.” The one who worked at Safeway was a black guy. The mailman lived in the attic, where, he said, it was easier to dematerialize and evaporate through the roof, especially since there was no insulation. The third girl (also black) worked as a nude model for local artists, who paid twenty-five dollars an hour, or more. You didn’t have to look like Marisa Berenson to be an artist’s model — better not to, in fact.

“Must be a big house,” said Lillian.

“Three stories. The rent is forty dollars a month per person, plus a little more in the winter for heat. Someone is moving to Hawaii, so I get that room. One of the girls is going to help me find a job. All I need is a hundred dollars, so I’ve been saving from my allowance every month. I should have it.”

“How are you getting out there?” Aunt Lillian made this sound easygoing, as if she weren’t prying. Janet said, “A bus ticket is fifty-two dollars.” She did not say that a guy she knew from U.Va. had suggested they hitchhike. It all depended on the next two months, and how much she could save from the last two allowances her mother was ever going to give her. There might be a graduation present, too. If her father gave her anything, she would view it as ransom money. And take it, she thought.

She glanced over at Aunt Lillian, thinking, “I am twenty-one years old,” but saying only, “It’s a bad time to get a job. And a good time to try stuff out.”

Then Aunt Lillian surprised her; she said, “I think you’ll have fun.” Of course, Aunt Lillian was thinking that she would be seeing Janet again; Janet wasn’t so sure about that. Even Aunt Eloise didn’t know she was coming back to California — Aunt Eloise thought she was taking a job in Chicago.

—

ON THE DAY after the end of second grade, Charlie put a dollar and one of the Rice Krispie treats that Mom had made for him on Sunday in his pocket, and set out for the swimming pool. Charlie knew north, south, east, and west, and he knew that the swimming pool was south, but he also knew that he could catch the bus right by his school, which was now out for the summer, although in a week Charlie was going to go to summer school to learn some more about writing. Charlie was left-handed — he knew this because the pointing finger on one hand was longer than it was on the other hand; the longer finger was on his left hand, and to tell right from left, he had to look at his fingers.

Mom had said that he would go to summer school from ten-thirty until noon. Today was a hot day, and Charlie needed a swim. He had taken lessons all last summer and all winter at the Y, and he could do crawl and breast stroke. He had gotten his trunks out of his drawer, and a towel from the hall closet, and rolled it around his trunks. Now he opened the front door and closed it quietly behind himself. Mom was taking a shower.