Aiden held open the front door as Lex hopped inside, one arm hooked over Venus’s neck. Poor Venus bent over like an old woman to make up for the height difference.
Lex didn’t say anything. She collapsed on the sagging couch, breathing hard, trying not to grimace too much from the pain. Jennifer rushed into the living room with a couple pillows she’d snagged from Lex’s bedroom, easing them under Lex’s knee.
She stared at her knee, ballooned out to twice its normal size. She started crying again.
Venus shielded her, while Jennifer whispered something to Aiden. Venus turned to wave at him as he left. “Thanks, Aiden.”
Lex still hadn’t said anything. She couldn’t open her mouth. Her brain ordered her to say something – at least thank him for driving her home – but her throat had closed shut with Crazy-Glue. He had checked her knee at the restaurant, but his grim look and firm command to see a doctor ASAP had crushed her hopes.
Venus’s face had a sad, calm cast to it, like a pale Noh mask. Jennifer’s eyes glistened with tears as she sat at the other end of the couch. Venus sank down onto the sturdy coffee table. “When does your dad get back?”
“Tnnm.” Lex cleared her throat. “Ten.” Saying the word exhausted her.
They sat in silence, listening to the familiar ticking of the old cuckoo clock. Fog filled Lex’s head. But the mist cleared a little, and she realized who was missing.
“Where’s Trish?” Her voice had a soft, plaintive tone she didn’t recognize as her own.
Venus glanced at Jenn, who bit her lip. Venus touched Lex’s shoulder. She jumped.
“Trish… had to go.”
Lex didn’t remember seeing Trish at all – inside or outside -after the – She swallowed. “When? Where did she have to go?”
Venus’s eyes darted away. Jenn fiddled with a loose thread from the couch.
“One of you has to tell me.” Her sentence ended on a sob.
Venus sighed. It sounded frustrated. “Trish – ” Venus bit her name out – “decided to meet up with her boyfriend.”
The news struck Lex like a slap to her face. She exhaled sharply but couldn’t breathe back in. She pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling.
“It’s not you, Lex. It’s her.” Venus’s eyes had narrowed into black goma seeds, dead and dangerous in her face. Her fingers curled as if around Trish’s neck.
It didn’t make the emptiness right below Lex’s rib cage somehow fill up again.
“Do you… uh… want to watch SportsCenter?” Jennifer reached for the remote control.
“No!” Lex’s hand snapped out to grab at her. A knife chopped into her knee. She winced and gingerly touched her kneecap.
She couldn’t watch people doing athletic things. Not now. Not when her own body had failed her like this.
She’d seen several people tear their ACL – the ligament connecting the tibia bone to the femur. She’d watched them on crutches both before and after the surgery, the long recovery. Some of them never played volleyball again…
No, don’t think that way! Lots of people came back just as strong from ACL surgery.
However, lots of people didn’t tear their ACL right after nailing Wassamattayu tryouts. Right after finding a room on the second floor of a town house.
Lex crumpled her face, trying not to cry again. She sniffled. Jenn handed her the box of Kleenex from the end table.
Venus took a tissue too. “One good thing has come out of this.”
“What?” Lex blew her nose.
“Mariko is going to be fuming.”
Lex wasn’t supposed to do this alone. Trish had let her down again, right after her apologies and protests that she wanted to help her injured cousin.
Lex took a shaky breath at the entrance to the MRI center. You can do this, even alone. She had to do a sideways hop to both pull open the glass door and manage her crutches, but in the past week, she’d gotten pretty savvy on her crutches from navigating the cubicles at work. Behind her, the taxi sped away to a duet of honks from the two cars it cut off.
She hobbled up to the receptionist’s counter. “Lex Sakai. I have an MRI scheduled for two.”
The sour-faced woman checked her computer. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry. My ride never showed up – ”
“You’re lucky. We don’t have anyone after you, so we can still work you in.”
“Gee, thank you.” Her voice didn’t quite have a meek, grateful tone. The woman glanced up at her. Lex gave a weak smile.
“Have a seat until the tech calls you.”
As if it weren’t bad enough her heart pounded in her chest, she had to deal with snippy people. Lex hobbled around the arrangement of chairs in the waiting area. She finally managed to get into position to sink into one when a door opened at the far end of the room.
“Lex Sakai?”
Anakin Skywalker stood in the doorway. After he turned bad, and sans cape. Glorious golden curls contrasted with his bloodshot eyes and fanatical “world domination” expression. His head looked like it floated in midair until he gestured with his black-clad arm. Then she saw that his all-black ensemble had blended into the background.
“You’re late.” His voice rumbled deep and menacing.
“I’m sorry, I – ”
“Just follow me.” He turned down the hallway behind the door.
Gee, that’s not creepy at all. She had a surreal sensation of following Luke into the cave.
She maneuvered back around the chairs, but just before she reached the doorway, it closed in her face. Brilliant technician hadn’t even stayed to hold it open for her.
She turned the knob. Locked.
Frustration overtook the nervous twitching in her limbs. She pounded on the door and almost lost her balance on the crutches. As she righted herself, the door swung open to Mr. Dark Side’s dour face.
He gave her a set of scrubs and showed her a closet-sized changing room. The room didn’t even have a chair for her to sit on. She had to balance on one leg while she unstrapped herself from the Velcro-and-metal brace her sports doctor had given to her at her appointment a few days ago. It made her feel like a cyborg. The brace crashed to the ground.
She shed her warm-up pants and hopped into the flimsy paper shorts Anakin had given to her. The cotton top followed.
She left her brace and her clothes on the floor. Getting out of the changing room reminded her of her office at work. She backed up, pulled open the door, and then stepped out. Anakin sat in a hallway chair waiting for her, foot jiggling. Another frown when she appeared.
He led her into a small, sterile room crammed with the biggest toilet paper roll she’d ever seen. Except it was made of hard plastic instead of toilet paper. A table was attached to the roll, and he stabbed a black-painted fingernail at it. “Hop up.”
The cold temperature and complex machinery made her shiver. Too much like a hospital. She took small steps to turn around -quite difficult with two extra “legs” – and sat down. “What about my shoes?”
He loosed a frustrated grunt as he turned around and exited. He returned with a plastic bag. “Dump your stuff in here.”
She shed her shoes. “I left my clothes back in the changing room.”
He looked like she’d asked him to give her his firstborn child.
“Fine, I’ll get them.” He pointed at her leg. “Put that in the holster.”
Like a gun about to go off? Sounded like her temper. She lifted her knee gently to drop it into the plastic thingy that looked like a big stalk of celery.
Anakin came around the other side and grabbed her leg.
“Ow! What are you doing?”
“Just positioning it correctly.”
He pulled and pushed. Lex gritted her teeth, wincing with each rough movement. Her knee started to feel warm again, like a fever in the joint. “Watch it! You’re going to injure it more.”
He gave a last tug. “Okay, lie back.”
He left the room – thankfully – but then the table started to move her toward the toilet paper roll.
“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” His voice shot out over the ceiling speaker as loud as a rock concert.
“Turn it down. Are you trying to give me hearing problems too?”
“How’s this.”
It was a statement, not a question, but she answered anyway. “It’s fi – ”
“Okay, now keep perfectly still or else the MRI won’t work.”
Bam! Bam! Bam! At first Lex thought they were gunshots. Then she realized the sound came from the machine.
Wait a minute. How long was this going to take? She didn’t know how long she could stand the firecrackers from the toilet paper roll…
It seemed like forever. Luckily, the machine didn’t snap, crackle, and pop the entire time. Finally, his voice blasted over the loudspeaker, making it vibrate. “Okay, you’re done.”
Praise God.
She got her clothes back on, although pulling up the warm-up pants was like threading a wet noodle into a keyhole.
As she left, the tech handed her the MRI photos.
“Th – ” Thanks for what? The second worst day of her life?
He didn’t notice her hesitation. He just shook his head.
“What is it?”
“You’ll need to verify with your doctor, but it looks like you tore your ACL. You’ll need surgery.”
Even before her dad handed her the plain white envelope, Lex’s heart cracked – a deafening sharp sound like a glacier splitting in two and sliding into the cold Sea of Japan.
You have been accepted into the Wassamattayu sports club for the coed and women’s volleyball teams…
She folded the letter up precisely, sharpening the folds, sliding it back into the envelope. She laid it on the coffee table next to the couch where she lay with her knee propped up.
Darren had called earlier that day to tell her of her acceptance.
“Darren… I tore my ACL last week.” Her voice cracked. Her nails dug into the phone, making her cuticles ache.
“Are you sure?”
“I had an MRI and saw my doctor today. I have surgery scheduled for a couple weeks from now.”
“Lex…” A heavy whoosh over the phone as he sighed. “We have an Injured Reserve list, but it’s usually as long a wait as the wait list.”
Tears stung her eyes. She snapped her jaw shut and bit her tongue.
“I’m sorry, Lex. I’ll put you on the IR list. Maybe in a few years.”
Click.
The severing of all her hopes.
She swallowed as she stared at the envelope. Insult to injury. Insult to ACL injury.
She picked up the envelope and tore it neatly in two. Then again.
And again. Tiny pieces rained into her lap like white tears.
“I can’t do it again, Lex.” Trish’s bloodshot eyes darted toward Lex, then out the living room window. Her shaking hand picked at the fuzz on her sweatshirt.
“Do what again, Trish? I’ve never torn my ACL before.” Lex had hoped Trish’s arrival at her house meant she’d drive Lex back to work, but no way would she get into a car with Trish in her condition. “Did you call in sick to work? I’ve never seen you this hungover since college.”
“I’m not hungover.” Trish answered too quickly, too emphatically. She scrubbed at her cheeks, which only turned them from pale bags to pink bags.
“No, you were just too tired to pick me up for my MRI. Which was at 11:00 a.m.”
“I already said I was sorry.” Trish didn’t sound like it.
“You know what? You can make it up to me if you’ll help me the few days after my surgery.”
“That’s just it, Lex. I can’t do it again. This is just like the last time.”
“What last time? My sprained ankles?”
“No… you know… after the rape.”
Arctic winter flash-froze her heart. Lex had never spoken the word. Trish hadn’t either, until now. The ugly sound settled in the room like dirty snow on a roadway. “I don’t understand.”
“You were so depressed afterward.”
Lex didn’t clearly remember the days, even weeks after the attack. She remembered feeling like weights were on her legs, her arms. She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t speak about it.
Trish kept talking. “I understand the trauma for you and all that, but being with you drained me emotionally.”
Lex remembered Trish with her in those days – Trish as her constant, the only bright star in her blustery night. Trish’s smile, Trish’s touch on her arm, her shoulder, her head – the only touch Lex could tolerate at the time. Outside of her dad and brother, only Trish knew what had happened to her. She hadn’t even told Venus or Jenn, much less Grandma.
Lex swallowed. “I was counting on you to help me through the surgery.”
Trish shook her head, her eyes on the walls, the ceiling, out the window. “Kazuo says I’m giving too much of my time, that you’re being too clingy and demanding.”
“What?”
“I can’t do it again, Lex.”
Lex sat there, breathing hard and fast. And really, what could she say? Oh, okay. I promise not to be a basket case now that I’ve lost my knee and Wassamattayu in the same day.
Trish sighed into the silence, then turned and walked out the front door. She shut it firmly behind her.
Lex stared at it. She realized she hoped it would open again, and she looked away.
Her gaze fell on her bulky leg, braced in a black web of Velcro and metal. The physical pain didn’t come close to the aching in her heart every time she saw it. Her first major surgery.
She’d never thought it could happen to her. A few sprained ankles, a few torn muscles here and there. Nothing serious.
This… This sucked the life out of her soul. She felt hollow and fragile.
She never felt hollow and fragile. She was always strong and healthy.
Maybe she’d never be strong or healthy again.
Lex squeezed her eyes shut as a tear spilled out. She bit her tongue, hard. The pain helped her focus, kept her from exploding into a billion little fragments.
Who would take care of her? She and her dad moved out this weekend. She could no longer handle the stairs for the room in the condo she’d found, so she had called and taken a ground-floor studio in south San Jose, the only thing she could afford, sight unseen because she couldn’t get a hold of Trish to check it out for her. Maybe she had been relying on Trish too much lately.
Had Lex been smothering her? When she usually only saw Trish once or twice a week at church or Bible study? But she tended to call Trish when she needed her for something. Maybe that was smothering.
Lex sighed, but it came out like a sob. Just call her a wet, smothering blanket.
Who would take care of her? Dad? No – Dad had never been comfortable with helping her with personal stuff. He’d always stayed away from it, leaving one of her aunts to help her when she was growing up.
Jennifer? She’d be sympathetic and mothering, but she had to work. Venus? Lex had never been as close to prickly Venus as Trish.
She had no one…
The phone rang. Lex measured the distance between the couch and the cordless, then hauled herself to her feet to pick it up on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Lex, it’s Venus. This is going to weird you out, but I suddenly felt like I should call. Maybe it was God trying to talk to me.”
Lex burst into tears.
Venus sighed. “I guess God was right.”
Say good-bye.
Lex memorized the shape of the funny door knocker on the old oak door, the crooked front window, the sagging roofline. Besides that rental house in college with her three cousins, and that very brief time she’d had her own apartment – dark memories there – she’d only known this house. Mom had died here. It felt like leaving her all over again.
Behind her, Venus slammed her trunk. “Is this all?”
“Yeah. Dad bought me a storage unit and dropped off the rest of the boxes yesterday.” Separated from all her things.
Venus got behind the wheel and strapped her seatbelt on while Lex got into the passenger side of the beat-up Honda. “Are you sure we should take my car?”
“With mine, we’d take two trips because the trunk isn’t big enough.”
“I’m just not sure this thing will make it with all the extra weight.”
“It had better.” Venus fired up the engine. It roared to life, then died.
“See?” Lex thrust her hands out, as if saying a mantra to the goddess of old cars.
Venus gave her a mean sidelong look. “Grow up, will you?” She banged her hand against the dashboard, then turned the key.
The Honda came to life.
“How did you do that?”
“Cars respond to bullying more than praying.”
The car whined and complained on the freeway, especially at the speed Venus made it maintain. Once on streets, it rebelled, belching smoke and jerking every time it started up from a red light. They limped into the driveway to her new apartment building, the Honda moaning and sputtering.
Venus slammed her door and stabbed a finger at Lex over the oxidized hood. “How do you stand driving this thing?”
Lex flung her arms wide. “Do you see me with enough money to buy a new one?” She moved on her crutches to the manager’s apartment.
A cheerful Hispanic woman answered the door, patting her gray bun in place and reeking of garlic.
“Hi, I’m Lex Sakai. I’m renting a ground-floor apartment.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. I’ve been waiting for you. Oh, injured your knee? No wonder you need a ground-floor unit. You’ll like this one.
The last owner who had pets moved out seven years ago, so the smell’s gone away by now. Here’s your key – oh, I guess you can’t carry it and walk with crutches, can you? I’ll carry it and show you to your apartment. Watch the hanging pots – oops, that one nailed you, huh? Be careful about Mrs. Delarosa’s pansies, over there. Sometimes I think if people just breathe on them they die, but she gets so upset. Aw, don’t worry about Mr. Parks’s dog, he can’t get past the security door, and he’s more bark than bite. Mr. Parks walks him twice a day without fail. Here we are. I’ll open the door for you. There. Welcome home!” The woman flung open the door and waggled a few ringed fingers like Vanna White.
Musty smell – it had been unused for a long time. Just enough floor space for her bed and her boxes, although it would be a squeeze to get to the bathroom. The short carpet was stained but clean. Same with the walls. A mini kitchenette took up an entire wall.
“It’s… fine.” Lex managed a polite smile.
“Oh, there’s your friend with your boxes. I’ll let you unpack. Here’s your key, I’ll leave it on the counter. If you need anything, just ask me.” She bustled away.
Man, that woman could talk. But friendly. Probably nosy too.
Venus crossed the threshold and stopped. Stared. Tried not to grimace. “Are you sure about this, Lex?”
“Do I have a choice? I couldn’t afford anything else.”
“This place is a dump.”
“Venus, what happened to ‘speaking the truth in love’?”
“That is love. You’re lucky I don’t dump this box and leave you stranded.”
Lex knew she was kidding, but the dingy surroundings seemed to almost weigh her down.
Venus dropped the box she held into a corner. “I’ll bring in the pieces of your bed.” Lex was glad they were light enough for her to handle by herself.
After she left, a head popped into the open doorway. “Ha-roh?”
“Hi.” Lex smiled in greeting at the wizened round face, the round body, even the gray hair caught up in a bun as round as the ones in the Chinese bakeries.
The eyes disappeared as she smiled, her mouth in the shape of a plump pot sticker. “I Mrs. Chang. Next door.”
She’d picked up at least a few phrases from Venus and Jenn’s Chinese dads. “Ni hao ma? ”
Mrs. Chang exploded into cackles. “You accent terrible.”
Lex laughed.
“Japanee?”
Lex nodded.
“You eat chou dofu?”
What was that? Lex shrugged and shook her head.
“I get you some.” Mrs. Chang disappeared.
Venus appeared with one side of her aluminum bed frame. “Neighbor?”
“I think so. She’s Chinese.”
“Does she speak Cantonese or Mandarin?”
“Dunno. I can’t tell the difference.”
Venus sat a hand on her hip. “Why not? Trish can, and she’s as 100 percent Japanese as you.”
“This coming from a 50 percent Japanese.”
“At least my dad taught me Mandarin, thank you very much.”
“Trish can tell because she sings – she’s got a musical ear. The only note I can tell is if a volleyball is bounced and it makes a flat squish.”
Venus snorted in amusement in spite of herself. “When’s your dad coming by with the box spring and mattress?”
“He said he had something to do until three. So he’ll swing by the house, pick it up, and bring it here around four.”
“Something to do? Like what?”
Lex shrugged. “I never asked. He didn’t want to talk about it.”
Venus propped her hands on her hips. “Your family’s lack of communication is something else. How do you guys get anything done?”
“Hey, hey, hey. I grew up with one brother and a single dad. I’m lucky when they tell me good morning.”
“Ha-roh?” Mrs. Chang peeked her head in again. “I bring you – ”
Venus snapped as straight as a Japanese bow. “Lex – ”
“Thanks, Mrs. Chang.” Lex took the plastic food container filled with brown-beige cubes. Oh, it looked like fried tofu.
Eww, what was that smell?
Venus’s mouth had frozen in a plastic smile. She murmured to Lex, “Don’t open it. Just say thank you to Mrs. Chang.”
“What are you talking about?” Lex tugged at the container. She loved Chinese food. She ate anything Jenn’s dad served her, even when he didn’t know the English name for it.
“I’mgettingtherestofyourbed.” Venus disappeared like a ninja.
Mrs. Chang motioned to the food and beamed. “You like?
Good.”
Lex cracked the cover open.
Ugghhh.
She didn’t think anything could smell so rotten in her life. She cranked the lid back down. Her eyes watered, but she slapped a toothy smile onto her face. “Th-thanks, Mrs. Chang.”
“You want more, you ask me.” She turned and strolled away.
Venus reappeared with another part of her bed, then gagged as she entered the studio. “You dummy. I told you not to open it.”
Lex wiped at the tears gushing from her stinging eyes. “What the heck is that?”
“Stinky tofu. From what I’ve been told, it’s an acquired taste.”
“You can actually eat that?”
“My parents’ cat won’t even eat it.”
“Ugh.” Lex tossed the container onto the counter. “I heartily apologize for not listening to you.”
“You? Apologizing? That’s a first.” Venus drew her eyes wide.
“Oh, bite me.”
Venus chuckled and started putting the bed frame together. “This is kind of a long commute to work for you, isn’t it?”
“It’s only temporary.”
“Is your boss okay with your leaving?”
“Yeah, Russell okayed my leave, no problems.” Lex tugged at one of the Velcro straps on her brace. “Besides, the doctor said I could go back to work six weeks after surgery. But I’ll still be in rehab, so I’ll need to take off time to go to physical therapy sessions each week.”
“I guess I’ll have to take you to PT until they say you can drive.”
Lex winced. “Yeah. Thanks a lot, Venus.” She coughed at the dust in the air. “After the surgery, when my knee can handle stairs again, I’ll look for a room in a town house.”
Venus snapped the aluminum frame into place. Something seemed to catch her eye. She squinted toward the far corner. Lex glanced over.
A small spot on the carpet.
The spot moved.
“Aaaiiieee!” Venus climbed to her knees on top of a box of books. Lex sat on another box and drew her legs up.
The mouse scurried away.