9

The Tickling Game

In my room, where the dresser drawers have just been cleaned out by Odessa and the closet put in order and the desk dusted and my chair dusted and the record player closed for a rest, the tickling game is on my mind. Julia is coming up the stairs to my room, wearing her mother’s black velvet evening cape with the red lining. I’m messing up my bed that Odessa just fixed and boy would I love to jump from bed to bed, but Mama would be angry.

Julia comes in my room, jumps next to me and tickles my arm. When I don’t laugh, she tickles my neck. Now if I don’t laugh, she’ll tickle my stomach and if I still don’t laugh, I win, unless I do all of that to her and she doesn’t laugh. Julia’s so ticklish that sometimes just saying—want to play the tickling game?—she giggles.

It is hot and giggling makes me hotter. Julia’s leaving tomorrow in the heat, in the early ­morning before I get up. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur are going to take her to the train station and for the very first time, Julia will be away for more than just a day or two. I tickle Julia a little harder and she jumps on top of me, tickles my stomach and no matter how much I say no fair, no fair, she doesn’t stop or can’t stop or won’t stop and I almost wet my pants.

Pops opens his bedroom door across the hall and comes to my room. He has a look on his face like he swallowed something funny, but he looks as if he doesn’t know us. I jump off the bed and walk over to him and take his hand.

Pops, I say real low, Pops, are you okay? He nods and lets go of my hand and goes back to his room and before he closes his door, he tells me to close mine. As soon as my door is closed, Julia takes the cape and hides under it and we start to giggle and giggle and the funniest thing is I don’t know what’s so funny.

The door swings open just as I jump onto the other bed in my room and pull out the clean pillow. It’s Pops again. He’s got his hands in fists at his sides and he looks like he is going to yell. He says, Just what the hell is all of this noise about? I sit down on the bed. Julia comes and sits next to me, wrapping her cape around her.

I hear Mama coming up the stairs and she asks Pops what he is angry about, she says, Nate, they’re little girls. Let them be little girls somewhere else, he says, and walks back to his room and slams the door.

Mama looks at what we have done to the beds and comes into my room and straightens out the bedspreads and pillows, shooing Julia and me out of the room. She says, Go play somewhere else for a while, Pops needs to take a nap, he’s tired.

We run quietly but quickly out of my house and go to Julia’s where it is dark and cool. All the shades are drawn. We sneak into the kitchen looking for some treats to take to Julia’s bedroom. Sitting on the kitchen table is her mother’s purse, her big black leather one with the broken strap and zipper. It’s the bag she carries everywhere. We look inside it and there in the pocket is a brown cigarette case and matches. Julia looks at me and I shrug my shoulders. She opens the cigarette case slowly in case Mrs. Arthur is watching us, she then quickly pulls out two cigarettes and hands me one and takes the matches. I’ve never lit a match before, I say, and Julia looks at me as if I am retarded.

Let’s go to the bathroom, she says, and when we get inside she turns the fan on. The whirring noise covers my giggles. What are you laughing at? Julia wants to know. She pulls a match out of the book and strikes it on the black piece, it flashes into flame and she holds it up to my face. I blow it out because I can’t stop laughing. Julia stamps her foot. She tells me to be serious and I can see she is getting angry at me, so I hold the cigarette up to my lips. Julia lights it with another match and holds it to the tip. I take a breath like I’ve seen Mama do and the smoke is hot and minty and burns my throat. The smoke goes up my nose and my head is dizzy. Julia lights her own cigarette and swallows it all down, she starts coughing so loud that I throw my cigarette and hers into the toilet and listen to the hiss of the flame in water. I’m afraid her mother will discover us. I flush the toilet but they don’t go down. I flush again and again and finally they disappear. I feel sick to my stomach, I say, I want to lie down.

Julia says, Go to my room and I’ll put the matches back. I lie on her bed, staring at her ceiling waiting for her to return. Well this is it, I say, as she goes to the other bed and lies down. You leave tomorrow morning.

I leave you my evening cape, Julia says to me, and unties it and throws it to me. I catch it by its torn edge where Julia has pulled and pulled at it. It smells like cigarettes and dust. Thanks, I say, but I don’t want it. I throw it back to her. She sits up and catches it and looks at me and asks, Why not? I know I’ve got to be honest because she is going away for a long time and I’ll feel bad if I tell her a lie now.

I don’t like it, I say, it looks old and ratty. There I said it and the cape is Julia’s favorite thing of her mother’s. Although, I know that that big diamond ring her father, who is really not her father, her real father she never knew, anyway Mr. Arthur gave Mrs. Arthur the ring that Julia told her mother she wants when she dies is really her favorite thing.

I say to Julia, You’re going to be gone for a long time.

All summer, she says.

I say, Are you scared?

Julia laughs and says, Why should I, why should I get scared at going away when it’s going to be so much fun with horseback riding, swimming, waterskiing and a cabin full of girls?

But you don’t know any of them, I say.

That’s true, she says, but maybe they’ll all be nice and fun. I’ve never left home alone, she says. Oh well, she sighs, it’ll be fun and before you know it I’ll be back. That’s what my mother says.

I hope so, I say, and I ask myself if Mrs. Arthur is going to be as sad as me that Julia’s gone?