Chapter Forty

“I stopped in to see her after work, just like always,” my sister tells me breathlessly. “I was sitting beside her and telling her about my day—I mean, who knows? People in a coma may hear every word you say. Anyway when I touched her forehead, her eyes opened and looked straight at me. It was so—”

“You touched hggg—” I begin before breaking into a jagged cough. Clearing my throat, I say, “You touched her what?”

“Her forehead. I was caressing her forehead. Why?”

“With your fingertips?” I ask hoarsely.

“Yes,” says Lillian.

“When was this?”

“Less than an hour ago. Why?”

After a moment I say, “No reason.”

A brief silence.

“Fuck you, too,” says Lil. “Listen, I don’t even care anymore. I just thought you might want to know. That’s all.”

“Lil… ,” I begin, not knowing where the words may take me. “Lil, something’s happening to me. I don’t really know how to talk about it.”

Silence from the bunny phone.

I clear my throat. “I know I haven’t been exactly open with you. It’s… uh… I just need some time, okay?”

When Lillian’s voice returns, it trembles.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how angry I am,” she says quietly. “You have shut me out so… totally. Here I am between my mute mother and my mute brother, talking and talking, and nothing’s coming back. You don’t want to take your medication? Fine. You want to fucking starve yourself? That’s excellent. You want some more time? Take as much as you want. But I’m not holding my breath anymore, okay?”

My turn to be silent.

“Two men came to see me,” says Lil.

My breathing stops.

“Exactly how long have you known about this?” she demands.

I lean against the settee table, and it almost tips over. “Uh, what exactly do you mean by ‘this?’”

“I cannot believe,” says Lil, “that you just said that to me.”

I’m suddenly aware of other listening ears besides those of my sister. Many of them. “Oh,” I say. “This. Everybody knows about this.”

“Everybody?” she says incredulously. “Everybody knows that you have met our father?”

“Umm…”

“Over dinner?”

“More like beers, actually,” I say, falling into the settee chair.

“Julian, I can tell from the sound of your voice that you are bullshitting me. Just like always. I am going to listen now, and you are going to talk, and you’re going to tell me the whole story about our father. And if you leave anything out—anything—I’ll. Never. Speak. To. You. Again.”

A salty taste floods my mouth. She means it. But what can I possibly say over the American Teacher’s Telephone? I only understand one thing. I must make it immediately clear that my sister knows nothing of what I know. And never will.

Swallowing hard, I say, “I have met our father, Lillian. And I’m not going to tell you about it. Not now, not ever. There’s a reason for that, and I’m not going to tell you that, either. Don’t ever ask again.”

I cringe. Now comes the sound of a hand being placed over Lil’s receiver. Muffled words are spoken. After a moment, I hear a man’s voice on the line.

“Julian?”

“Who is this?”

“This is Adrian McPherson, a friend of your sister’s. Lil asked me to tell you something.”

“Stumpy?” I say.

“Uh, Lil says she’ll be back there Sunday and will take over her classes Monday morning. If you could just relay that infor—”

“Back?” I interrupt. “Back here? In China?”

“Yes,” says the voice on the phone. “Your mother seems to have—”

“Put Lil back on the phone.”

“Uh, I was saying that your mother seems to have stabilized to the point—”

“Would you kindly put my sister back on the phone?”

“Uh—just a moment.”

More muffled words.

“Julian? Lil says that Tree can meet her at the airport. If you could just have your things out of the apartment by noon on Sunday?”

I’m beginning to pant. “You put my goddamn sister back on the phone, Adrian.”

I hear the receiver settle into the bunny cradle.