Red Leaves by Paullina Simons


  ‘Yeah? Oh, I left my coat up at this place Albert and I shack up at, and then he let me borrow his.’

  ‘No, something cleverer than that.’

  She sighed deeply. ‘I’ll see you, Albert.’

  He studied her for a moment. ‘I’ll see you tonight,’ he said, handing her his brown leather jacket. She shook her head and backed away toward the glass doors that led to the side stairs.

  ‘Rock,’ Albert called after her, almost as an afterthought. ‘Happy birthday.’

  She nodded, unsmiling.

  ‘Will you at least think about Canada?’ he asked her.

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Kristina smiled ruefully at him.

  The glass door slammed shut behind her.

  After her last class, Kristina had basketball practice, then showered and went to her car. Her long hair was still wet when she got in and started up the car. The Mustang coughed and spluttered for a few moments.

  Nice car, she thought, trying to goad it on. Come on, come on, nice, dear, sweet car. I’m gonna take care of you when you get sick. You’re my friend. You’re nice, come on. And then the engine finally began to run smoothly. Kristina closed her eyes, thank God. You piece-of-shit car.

  Someone knocked loudly on her window. Kristina opened her eyes. Conni stepped back, her arms folded.

  Oh, no, Kristina thought, rolling the window partway down.

  ‘Hi, Conn, what’s up?’ she said. ‘I’m late.’

  ‘You’re always late,’ said Conni.

  ‘Doesn’t make me any less late,’ said Kristina pleasantly. Inside she felt terrible.

  ‘What’s up?’ said Conni, furiously curling a strand of hair around her index finger. ‘How come you didn’t open the door last night?’

  ‘I told you I was real tired. I was asleep when you knocked.’

  Conni stared steely-eyed at Kristina. ‘Sleeping, huh? You could’ve opened the door.’

  ‘Could’ve, yes,’ Kristina said. ‘But didn’t want to. I was naked and tired. And it sounded like you had company in the hall.’

  Conni narrowed her eyes to slits. ‘Did you have company in the room?’

  Kristina got scared. Was this where it was going to happen? Right here, in the parking lot? ‘Constance,’ she said slowly. ‘What are you accusing me of?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Conni said quickly. ‘Nothing. I was just mad you wouldn’t open the door. Usually you never even lock it.’ She paused. ‘And I know you 7veren’t with Jim.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because I was looking for Albert.’

  ‘In Jim’s room?’

  ‘Anywhere.’

  Kristina sighed. ‘Conn, how often have you found Albert in Jim’s room? Albert never goes to Jim’s room. Never.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because that’s what Jim tells me.’ Actually it was what Albert told her. Albert didn’t feel comfortable with Jim anymore.

  Relaxing a little, Kristina said, ‘I’m sorry you were upset. Next time I’ll open the door, okay?’ She rolled down her window.

  ‘You know,’ Conni said, ‘I was just… I just didn’t know where Albert was. He said he was going up to his room for a minute.’

  ‘Ahh,’ said Kristina and didn’t know what else to say. ‘I hope he showed up eventually.’

  ‘No,’ Conni said tearfully. ‘That’s the whole thing.’

  There was a pause, while Kristina looked away from Conni, who seemed to be collecting her thoughts as she stepped from foot to foot in the cold. Kristina turned to face the front windshield and the parking lot and Hinman Hall ahead. She could see her own windows up there on the third floor. How nice it would be to be alone up in the room right now. She looked over to the right and stared at her bridge vacantly. Kristina’s Bridge. Maybe if it snowed soon… Kristina could have a few drinks, and walk her bridge, and not be scared anymore.

  She turned back to Conni, who obviously was trying hard to come to grips with something.

  Clearing her throat, Conni said, ‘Krissy, umm, listen. Was the dog with you?’

  ‘With me when?’ Kristina asked, wanting to roll the window back up.

  ‘Last night.’

  Kristina’s heart was pounding. She is trying to trap me. But what can I say? I don’t even know if she spoke to Albert today. She is definitely trying to corner me into something, but what?

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kristina replied vaguely. ‘Listen, I really gotta -’

  ‘Albert said he walked Aristotle for you last night.’

  Kristina kept her face passive, but inside she was relieved.

  ‘Yes. He came by, and took the dog,’ she told Conni.

  ‘He did?’ she exclaimed. ‘So you saw him?’

  ‘Briefly,’ Kristina replied.

  ‘And then?’

  ‘And then what? Then I locked the door.’

  ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘Because I wanted to go to sleep, and he was gone a long time.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘I don’t know, Conni. He never came up to bring the dog back.’ She didn’t know what else to say, and Conni still seemed dissatisfied. So Kristina said, ‘Maybe he’d gone to Frankie’s?’

  ‘That’s what he said he did. But he said he came back and knocked, you just didn’t answer.’

  ‘What time was this? I didn’t hear him,’ said Kristina without missing a beat, but thinking, God, Albert, I wish you had talked to me about this.

  ‘How long was he gone before I came up?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe a half hour.’

  This wasn’t the first time Kristina had been interrogated by Conni. She wished it could be the last time, though. Since Edinburgh, Conni had been increasingly suspicious about Kristina and Albert. When Conni and Kristina roomed together in their freshman and part of their sophomore years, Kristina had never fallen under suspicion, but Conni had been sure Albert was seeing someone else.

  Kristina lifted her black eyes to Conni, who was staring at her with the expression of someone who had just swallowed an unbelievable excuse, had bought it, and was now hating herself for it. Feeling very bad, Kristina said, ‘Conn, I thought he was with you. I thought he just took Aristotle down to your room and stayed there.’

  ‘Well, he didn’t,’ Conni said, struggling to keep her voice even.

  Reaching out, Kristina took Conni’s arm. ‘I’m sorry you’re feeling down. It’ll be okay. You know Albert loves you.’

  ‘Do I? Do I know that?’

  ‘Sure you do,’ Kristina said comfortingly. ‘It’s obvious. Every time he looks at you, it’s obvious.’

  Conni stared at her. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘No, of course I’m not.’ What was she getting at?

  ‘The way he looks at me?’ Conni laughed aloud. ‘You are kidding me. Kristina, have you ever seen the way Albert looks at you?’

  Kristina had. She knew how Albert looked at her. Turning up a blank expression, she said, ‘Conn, I don’t know what you’re -’

  ‘Kristina!’ Conni became agitated. ‘He looks at you, and you at him, like - I don’t know, like you’ve been - I don’t know - friends for life. Like he is about to go the front and die and he’s looking at you for the last time. God, it makes me crazy. Don’t tell me you don’t see it!’

  ‘Conni, I’m sorry, I really don’t.’

  ‘Yeah, Albert says the same thing. “Conn, you’re crazy,” he says. “Conn, it’s probably just hunger.” “Conn, I look at Frankie the same way,” or “Conn, you silly. What about the way I look at you?'”

  Kristina was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. ‘What do you want me to say, Conni?’ she said weakly.

  Conni continued as if not hearing Kristina. ‘I said to him, it’s not that he touches you, because he doesn’t, and it’s not that he says things to you, because he doesn’t, it’s just the way he looks at you. I asked him not to look at you anymore.’ Conni took a deep breath and swiped the
hair off her face in a manic gesture. ‘God, this is just so ludicrous.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Kristina quietly. Glancing at the dashboard clock, Kristina got out of the car and went to put her arms around Conni, who didn’t protest but didn’t hug back either.

  ‘Conn, I’m sorry you’re so upset. Come on, girl.’ Kristina’s arm remained around her shoulders.

  ‘Am I crazy, Krissy? Am I just plain nuts?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kristina said, still feeling queasy. ‘Bonkers.’

  ‘Krissy,’ Conni said, ‘once I saw you guys.’

  Kristina missed a beat, maybe two, imagining the worst, before she said, ‘Saw us where?’

  ‘In Baker Library, sitting in the reserve corridor, looking into the same book.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know. A few weeks ago.’

  ‘We were studying. Nietzsche, I think.’

  ‘Not one part of your bodies was touching, yet I just felt so bad when I saw the two of you.’

  ‘Conni,’ Kristina said softly, soothingly. ‘We were just studying.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ said Conni in a depressed voice. ‘That’s what Albert told me. I mean, look, I know he loves me, I know that, okay? I just can’t help feeling these things sometimes. I’m sorry.’

  Kristina hugged Conni tighter, incredulous. How did I get her to apologize to me?

  Conni’s face brightened slightly, and Kristina felt even worse. I’m not going to lie anymore. That’s my new motto, too. I’m going to right my life and I’m not going to.lie anymore.

  Getting back into the car, Kristina shifted into reverse and said, ‘I gotta go.’

  ‘Go, go,’ said Conni, stepping away from the car. ‘Thanks for talking.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Kristina, hating herself as she drove to Red Leaves House.

  At Red Leaves, Betty her friend and boss, had bought Kristina an ice cream cake. It was the thought that counted, because Kristina’d hated ice cream cakes since childhood.

  Betty’s assistants and some of the resident girls at Red Leaves had pitched in to buy her a black leather handbag.

  Kristina thankfully made a hazy wordless wish that had to do with the smell of pines and the mountains and cold and hope, and blew out the candles. Then she cut the cake and Betty served it, while Kristina went to sit in her favorite chair in the living room.

  Despite hating ice cream cakes, Kristina ate every bite and asked for seconds. Afterward, she took her wallet and assorted letters and papers and magazines out of her backpack and stuffed them all into the new handbag. Seeing the pleased, affectionate faces around her made Kristina feel better about her life.

  Betty was a woman of about thirty, a graceful, slightly severe-looking woman with pale skin and a sharp nose. Red Leaves House was hers. It had originally belonged to her parents, John and Olivia Barrett, local philanthropists who wanted to do something for their community. They had already contributed plenty to libraries, charities, homeless shelters, and soup kitchens. Red Leaves House was their primary charitable cause. Because it was the first of its kind in the area, it had gained immediate notoriety.

  In her freshman year, Kristina had picked up a brochure about Red Leaves House at the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center and agreed to work there as part of her work/study program. She had been coming every Monday and Thursday afternoon for the last three years. Kristina wished it paid more, especially during the lean months. More important, it got her away from Dartmouth College for two days a week, and getting away from Dartmouth College was essential for Kristina from time to time. Also, all the pregnant girls adored her.

  The drawback was being around babies. Kristina got reluctantly but intensely attached to these infants. When the babies left Red Leaves House, with either their mothers or their adoptive families, Kristina felt as if her own were being taken away from her.

  Quitting wasn’t an option. Quit and do what? She was loved by the girls and liked by the other counselors, and Kristina was the only one from Dartmouth. It felt like being on another basketball team - Kristina was the All-Ivy center of Red Leaves.

  Before Kristina went upstairs, she and Betty chatted.

  ‘How are your friends?’ asked Betty. ‘Still see them much? You sound like you’re always so busy.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m busy, but I see them all the time. I’m writing a piece on the death penalty for Jim, and Conni and I went to the movies last Friday night. Saw -’

  ‘And Albert?’ said Betty. ‘See much of him?’

  Suppressing a smile, Kristina eyed Betty. ‘Yeah, I see him once in a while. He’s doing well.’

  ‘Oh, good, good. You know you’re welcome to invite them over here one Sunday if you’re not busy. You guys were a big hit with all the girls when you came a few months ago and played basketball in our driveway. Maybe you can do that again sometime.’ She spoke shifting her gaze from left to right and not looking straight at Kristina.

  Kristina smiled and touched Betty’s arm. ‘Thanks. Yeah, sure. Sure. Maybe I can round them up the Sunday after Thanksgiving. How would that be?’

  ‘That would be good,’ said Betty, controlling her voice.

  ‘Where’s Evelyn?’ Kristina asked.

  Betty told Kristina, ‘Go upstairs. She’s not feeling well. She’s been asking for you.’

  Kristina started upstairs. Betty called after her, ‘She can’t spend a day here without asking when you’re working next. What do you do for that girl?’

  ‘Oh, you know,’ demurred Kristina. ‘I stick pins in a doll named Evelyn and kill chickens on Fridays.’

  ‘Nice.’

  Fifteen-year-old Evelyn Moss, pregnant with twins, had come to Red Leaves House last summer when she was barely out of her first trimester. A tall, pretty strawberry blonde, Evelyn, racked with morning sickness, was very depressed. Kristina spent her summer term at Dartmouth working at Red Leaves and talking to Evelyn, who slowly turned into a thickset shadow of her former slender self. During the summer all Evelyn wanted was not to be pregnant anymore. She trailed after Kristina, ate nonstop, and gained too much weight. Her blood pressure was out of control.

  Evelyn ate through her second trimester and cried through her third. The feeling of not wanting to be pregnant anymore gave way to not wanting to give up her babies. Kristina told Evelyn that that too was normal, but Evelyn would not listen.

  Kristina tried convincing Evelyn with statistics. ‘They’re all against you, kid.’ Kristina told her about the number of teenage mothers who are high school dropouts, the number on welfare, the number below the poverty line, and the children’s psychological problems. Nothing Kristina said would bring relief to Evelyn, who now wanted only one thing and would not listen to reason. Evelyn’s parents had told her she had to give the children up for adoption, and Evelyn was still at an age when she listened to her parents.

  Kristina could hear Evelyn crying in her room as she opened the door and entered.

  ‘Hi, Evie. It’s me,’ she said brightly. Evelyn cried harder.

  ‘Nice welcome,’ Kristina said, sitting on the bed next to the girl and patting her belly. ‘How are you holding up?’

  Evelyn couldn’t talk.

  ‘Come on, honey, come on, girl. Hang in there. Only a few more weeks to go.’

  ‘No more weeks to go,’ Evelyn sobbed. ‘My show fell out.’

  ‘Oh wow,’ Kristina said excitedly. ‘Oh wow.’

  Evelyn grabbed Kristina’s hands. ‘Krissy, please talk to my mom, please! I don’t want to give up my babies!’

  Evelyn had told Kristina about her parents, who had lived in Lyme their whole lives. They had simple dignity and pride, and they could not allow their only daughter to have a child out of wedlock at fifteen. That would be a first in seven Moss generations. For Donald and Patricia Moss it meant having to send their daughter to Red Leaves and telling all the neighbors she had gone to visit a sick aunt in Minnesota. Evelyn couldn’t very well return from Minnesota with two babies who did not know their fath
er. Evelyn had confessed to Kristina during one of their many weepy talks that Evelyn herself was not precisely sure who the father was, though she had a couple of strong hunches. When both boys were individually confronted by Evelyn’s parents, they denied any impropriety, admitting, however, that if there was any impropriety, it was all Evelyn’s. The two boys were scared and didn’t want to get married at fifteen. They wanted to finish high school.

  Kristina knew it wouldn’t help to talk to Evelyn’s parents. ‘Evie,’ she said gently, ‘I’ll try to talk to your mom next time she comes, okay? I’ll talk to her.’ She paused. ‘But Evelyn, even if they are adopted, it’ll be okay. I promise. They’ll be so loved.’

  ‘Oh, please!’ Evelyn snapped. ‘Don’t you understand anything? I don’t want to give them up!’

  Kristina patted the girl’s belly. ‘I do, Evelyn, I understand everything,’ she said quietly.

  Evelyn tried to move away from her. ‘How could you possibly?’

  What could Kristina tell this grieving, crying girl? ‘Evelyn, they’ll be loved,’ she repeated. ‘And you’ll have a life. They’ll have wonderful parents. They’ll have two grown-up, wonderful parents -’

  ‘I don’t want them to have parents!’ Evie cried. ‘I want them to have me!’ Evelyn was sitting on the bed in front of her, looking flushed, uncomfortable, and heavy. She was breathing hard.

  ‘Evie, don’t get yourself all excited,’ said Kristina, trying to calm the girl down. She smiled and tried to make a joke. ‘I don’t know how to deliver babies.’

  ‘Betty does,’ Evelyn replied seriously. ‘She delivered a baby once when her car broke down and they couldn’t get to the hospital in time.’

  Kristina knew about that. But they hadn’t broken down, they had been in an accident. The baby had not been saved. And Betty had suffered a spinal injury that had left her with a permanently bad back.

  ‘Can we have some sanity here? Nobody but the doctor is going to be delivering your babies.’

  ‘That’s right. My babies.’

  ‘Evelyn, please.’

  Evelyn fell back on the bed. Her large belly remained up, nearly perpendicular to the rest of her body.

  ‘I want them to stay inside me forever,’ she whispered.

 
Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]