Spirit Level (19 page)

“Your mom is pretty great,” Alex says. “You’re lucky.” He takes my hand in his, and I lean my head against his shoulder. We sit in silence as the ferry docks.

Before we go to the beach, we stop in Freeland for coffee. Or, in Meredith’s case, herbal tea. I’m not thirsty and neither is Alex, so we stroll around the little town with Churchill and get a map of the island at the Visitor Information Center. I want to show him where we used to stay when I was a kid, in a little cabin near Useless Bay.

“Useless Bay? Really?” Alex says. “Why is it useless?”

“Probably for anchoring. I’m not sure. But my favorite beach in the world is on Useless Bay, so it’s not useless to me.” I point at a spot on the map. “Double Bluff Beach. That’s where we’re going.”

“Sounds good,” he says. “I could use some beach time. Not too many beaches in Missoula. Or Lubbock.”

My phone rings: Mom, calling to say she and Verna are back at the car. I grab Alex’s hand and hold on to it as we walk to the car. Mom sees us approach and raises an eyebrow. Verna is already buckled up and ready to go.

We follow the
SUV
out of Freeland and wind our way along the western edge of the island. There are a few old cottages tucked away in the trees, some monster houses right on the water and lots of ordinary places with double garages and big decks facing the ocean. We turn in to the parking lot, and the beach stretches out for miles. When I was little, I thought it went all the way to Canada.

Alex piggybacks Lucy along the beach until she finds the perfect place to sit with her back against a log. I mound some sand under her hurt foot. She has commandeered Meredith’s floppy hat and amuses herself by making us pose for selfies with her. When the moms catch up, it only takes a few seconds before it’s clear that we need to leave Lucy alone with Angela and Nori, who are equal parts worried and pissed off. Apparently this isn’t the first time that ankle has given Lucy trouble, and she’s been told repeatedly to be careful. The threat of surgery looms, according to Nori.

Mom and Verna stroll down the beach in one direction, Churchill trotting at Verna’s side; Alex and Meredith head in the opposite direction, arms linked. The tide is out, and I take off my sandals and head toward the water by myself, passing some Bocci players—two tall men and a short blond woman—who are drinking beer and laughing as they saunter across the sand. The wind is whipping the woman’s hair around, and her short dress flies up every now and again, revealing a pink thong. She seems unconcerned. A couple of kids are building an elaborate sand castle, with seaweed flags flying from the turrets, crab-claw ramparts and a nifty clamshell drawbridge. I stop and help them dig a channel from their moat to a nearby pool, and we stand together to watch the water fill the moat. It’s the most satisfying thing I’ve done in a long time.

Alex and Meredith seem to have resumed their argument. I can see Alex waving his arms around; Meredith is shaking her head and hunching her bony shoulders. The wind delivers fragments to me—“I won’t” and “lying” and “not right”—but I’d need to get closer to hear what they’re saying. There’s no way to sneak up on somebody on a wide sandy beach, so I opt for waving at Alex and walking down to the water. The next thing I know, Meredith is running up to me, with Alex close behind.

“What is your problem?” she says when she is next to me.

“My problem?”

“With me.”

I glance at Alex, who is standing next to Meredith, turning a shell over and over in his hands. He looks miserable.

Suddenly I am finished with her bullshit.

“You need to stop lying to everybody,” I say. “You lied to me and Lucy, you lied to our moms, and you’re probably already lying to Dr. Ramos. That’s just not right.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says. “You’re crazy.”

“You never worked on an organic farm. You never danced in the Denver ballet. That was your brother and sister. You’ve got two parents in Missoula, parents who love you. Barbara and Mark. I talked to them. You ran away, and you don’t even have the decency to let them know where you are.”

“You talked to them? When?” Meredith yells, her face contorting.

“A while ago.”

“You had no right! They’re my parents! My family!”

“Then maybe you should treat them better,” I say coldly. “But if it helps, they wouldn’t tell me anything. They were just glad to know you were alive.”

Meredith falls to her knees on the sand and buries her face in her hands. Alex stands over her, unmoving. I almost feel sorry for her, but I’m not finished. “You can’t base a relationship on lies. I know that for sure. I know Alex is trans. I know you’ve been a good friend to him.
But that doesn’t mean he can’t have other friends. We like each other. A lot. You need to deal with that.”

I start to walk away. Alex joins me, leaving Meredith hunched over on the sand. My heart is pounding, and I’m shaking from head to toe. I want to run as fast and as far as possible, away from my crazy sister, away from my feelings for Alex. I can see Mom in the distance, bending over to examine something on the beach—a shell, a piece of beach glass, a sand dollar. She straightens up and waves at us, her hand shading her eyes. I wave back.

And suddenly Meredith is right next to me, screaming and dancing around in a rage. If she wasn’t so scary, it would almost be funny—a skinny little hippie chick freaking out. “You don’t know anything,” she spits at me. “You think my parents are such great people? Then why does my sister, my perfect ballerina sister, have an eating disorder? And why did they spend all their time and money and energy on her when they had two other children? Do you know what that was like? Knowing that they loved their ‘real’ daughter more than me? They didn’t even know I was there. They didn’t care when I got wasted or pregnant or locked up. As long as their precious Elizabeth was all right. Alex was all I had, and now you think you can have him? It’s me he loves, and I love him. We’re meant to be together. You’re just a…a diversion.”

And then she is on me—knocking me backward to the ground and straddling me. Alex is yelling and trying to pull her off, but she pins my arms down with her knees and
starts to pummel me. I turn my face away, but she manages to land a hard punch to my jaw. The pain is astonishing. If I wasn’t already on the ground, I would collapse from the shock of being hit. All I can think is, It’s not like this on
TV
. I twist and turn, trying to avoid the blows raining down on my head and shoulders, trying to get free. Meredith continues to scream, but I can’t make out the words. There is sand in my mouth, and I can hear Mom yelling at her to stop. Then it’s over, as suddenly as it began. And Mom is dragging Meredith away in some sort of headlock.

“That’s enough, Meredith,” Mom says calmly, but she is breathing hard. She must have set a personal best running over here. “Alex is going to walk you back to the car. Angela and Nori can take you home. Make no mistake—what you did just now was assault. We could have you charged. But I’m not sure that’s the best approach.”

“I don’t care what you do,” Meredith says. She’s panting, but she sounds more resigned than defiant.

“I doubt if that’s true,” Mom says, “but right now I need to make sure Harry’s all right.” She helps me to my feet, puts her arms around me and holds me close as Alex takes Meredith by the arm and leads her away. I think I’m going to puke.

“I couldn’t get her off me, Mom. Neither could Alex. She was crazy strong.”

“Rage will do that,” Mom says. “And other things. But I can’t deal with her right now. We need to get your jaw looked at. There’s a hospital on the island.”

It really hurts when I shake my head, but I don’t tell her that. “Can we go home? I don’t want to stay here any longer.” I start to cry. Meredith has ruined the day—and maybe broken my jaw too. On my favorite beach.

Mom is stroking my hair and telling me it will be okay, but I’m not sure I believe her. After a few minutes we head slowly back to the car. The kids have abandoned their sand castle, and the tide is coming in. Soon it will be washed away. This seems like the saddest thing of all, and my crying escalates to sobbing.

Alex and Verna and Churchill are waiting when we get back. The
SUV
is gone.

“Verna said I could ride with you,” Alex says. “Is that okay?”

“I guess you’re going to have to,” Mom says. “Unless you want to walk.”

“I’m sorry, Della,” he says.

“What for?”

“For what Meredith did. For not protecting Harry.”

“I don’t need protecting,” I mumble, although clearly I do sometimes.

“What Meredith did isn’t your fault, Alex,” Mom says. “She’s not a happy girl.”

“Understatement,” I mutter as I climb into the backseat and put my head in Verna’s lap.

WE ARE ON
the ferry, and I am in agony. When I try to talk, it feels as if someone is slamming my face with a brick. I groan, and Mom turns around and hands me a bag of frozen peas. I’m so out of it, I didn’t even know we had stopped at a store.

“This will help,” she says. “We’re going directly to the U Dub Medical Center. I called my friend Janet and told her what happened. She’ll be waiting for us.”

“You called Janet? Why?” I mumble. I sound drunk. I wish I was.

“She’s an
ER
doctor,” Mom says. “She can fast-track us. She said you should try not to talk until you’ve had some X-rays. And that you should take some Advil and ice your jaw.”

First Lucy’s ankle, and now this. Two medical emergencies in one day. Must be some kind of record. Or maybe that’s what big families are like.

Mom hands me a bottle of water and a pill. I manage to swallow it, even though opening my mouth is excruciating. Alex is silent in the front seat.

Churchill is stretched out on the floor of the backseat, his massive head on Verna’s feet. It must be uncomfortable, but she doesn’t complain. Once in a while she’ll shift around in her seat and say, “Move your head, you big galoot,” but that’s all. I shut my eyes and drift away from the pain, the smell of wet dog, the sound of the tires on the highway, the murmur of voices from the front seat.

It’s not very busy in the
ER
, and soon I’m being examined by Janet, who orders X-rays and asks what happened. “Family feud,” I say, and although she looks startled, she doesn’t press me for more info. Mom can fill her in. Or not. I really don’t care.

I must doze off, because the next thing I know I’m being wheeled to X-ray, Mom at my side. The X-ray technician says, “Whoa!” when he sees my face.

“You should see the other guy.” I wince when I speak, and Mom frowns at me. Apparently, it’s too soon to make a joke about it.

After the X-ray we wait some more. Finally the doctor returns with good news: no fracture, no dislocation, no broken teeth, but my face is going to be really sore and swollen for a while. No doubt there will be bruising. In other words, I’m going to look and feel like shit. I’m a bit wobbly when we walk out to the waiting room, where Verna is deep in conversation with Nancy, one of the Sunday ladies, who is waiting for a friend who has overdosed. Alex is nowhere to be seen. Verna notices me looking around and says, “He had to go to work. He wants you to text him as soon as you can.”

In the car I send him a short text—
No broken bones. Heading home to sleep
—and then turn my phone off. When we get home, Mom makes me some soup while I take a shower to rinse off the sand and the sweat and the hospital stink. I start to cry when the water hits my face.

“Can you let Lucy know I’m okay?” I ask Mom as I slurp my soup out of a mug, wincing with every sip. “I don’t have the energy to talk to anyone.”

“Of course,” Mom says. “I’ll call Angela and Nori.”

“I still think you should consider calling the police,” Verna says. She is cutting up apples for applesauce, and she waves the knife at Mom when she speaks.

Mom sighs. “I don’t think the police will give Meredith the kind of help she needs.”

Verna slams the knife down on the cutting board. A chunk of apple bounces onto the floor. “I understand,
Della, but she’s violent and out of control. She hurt our girl. She needs help, but she won’t get any if we don’t do something.”