Part 6: Tuesday Afternoon

24. Sam

The English language needs a word for “walked very quickly.” “Sped” and “rushed” imply running. “Strode” connotes an attitude, not a speed. If there is such a word, it describes how Elizabeth went towards the cafeteria for lunch. My plan would have to wait for the afternoon.

The pairs of seats reserved for Program participants were still there, and I selected the seat on the left in the pair near the windows. I opened my lunchbox as Jen and Big Ben sat down near me.

“Nice to see you here today, Jen,” I joked.

“I satisfied my curiosity yesterday. Tim and Jill didn’t have much to talk about. Much too silent for my taste.”

Elizabeth arrived with her cafeteria lunch, featuring a mystery meat-and-cheese sandwich with some wilted pieces of iceberg lettuce. “Hello, everybody,” she murmured.

Jen asked her, “How did you get Sam to speak up in class?”

“I didn’t get Sam to do anything,” Elizabeth replied. “She chose to do it on he own.”

I said, “Give me some credit, Jen.” Just then, Josh Pulaski arrived with his cafeteria sandwich. “Josh, you’re a junior.”

“Pretty perceptive.”

“We haven’t heard anything about the homecoming court. I wondered if the juniors had any news.”

“Not that I know of.”

Elizabeth asked, “Jen, has Frank told you anything about homecoming?”

“What would he know- Is my brother involved with this somehow? He kept it a secret from me.”

“He mounted a write-in campaign.”

Heather R, who was sitting down just then, asked, “What about a write-in campaign?”

Ben said, “Homecoming.”

“Elizabeth said my brother organized a write-in campaign. Who’d he get people to vote for? Mickey Mouse?”

“Actually, Frank persuaded many ninth-graders, probably a plurality, to vote for him,” Elizabeth replied.

“That sounds like your brother,” I told Jen.

Heather said, “He looks good-” Jen made a face in response “-but what made him think he’d look good in a gown?”

Leave it to Elizabeth to bring up history. “It would not be necessary for him to wear one, as Queen Christina of Sweden set a precedent by wearing men’s clothes on a regular basis.”

Josh said, “He’d have to stay in his uniform, anyway. There wouldn’t be time for him to undress for the ceremonies.”

Elizabeth, as she did yesterday, changed the subject to my lunch. “Sam, what’s in the lunchbox today?”

“Some teriyaki tofu, onigiri – that’s sticky rice wrapped in nori – and a stir-fry of arame, carrots, and ginger.” I figured she could identify the mandarin orange herself.

“What’s arame?” Heather asked.

“It’s a type of sea vegetable,” Elizabeth said before I could answer. Several people looked at her. “I’ve been studying Japanese for while.”

I asked her why.

“Have you ever read the dramas of Zeami? Even though they were in translation, I had never seen theater stripped to its poetic bare essentials in such a fashion before, so I set a goal of reading the originals. However, as I had encountered the haikus of Basho beforehand, I believe they may have also influenced my decision. I’m gaining enough of a foundation in the modern language before proceeding to the medieval version.”

“Elizabeth,” I inquired, “have you ever tried that Japanese restaurant in Harrison? Kobe House?”

“No. Although my parents know I’m studying the language and culture, I haven’t been able to persuade them to take me there. My father says he hates Japanese food, but I have never seen him try any of it.”

“Would you like to try some now?”

“Yes, I would, thank you.” She sampled two or three cubes of tofu, and smiled. I cut off a piece of the onigiri for her. “The nori provides a savory contrast to the rice.” Finally, she sampled two forkfuls of the stir-fry. “I’m not used to ginger, but I enjoy its sharpness. The dressing complements the vegetables very nicely. What’s in it?”

“I just mixed some soy sauce and sesame oil together. It’s nothing.”

“It’s delicious.”

“Sam, why are you letting her sample your lunch?”

“Jen, she said the food at her house is even worse than the cafeteria’s.” My fellow cheerleader twisted her mouth and turned down her eyes in disgust. “That’s pretty much how I felt when she described it.”

“Tofu and seaweed sounds worse than cafeteria food,” Josh responded.

“Don’t criticize it until you try it.”

“Heather, I didn’t say it was worse. I just said it sounded that way.” He turned towards Elizabeth. “Have you ever been to Japan?”

“Don’t be silly,” Jen jumped in. “If her father won’t go to a Japanese restaurant, what makes you think he’d go to Japan?”

“I’ve never been out of the country,” Elizabeth confessed. “I would like to travel around the world, but the money isn’t there.”

“Where would you like to go if you had the chance?” I asked.

“It’s a tie between Paris and Kyoto.”

“Why not Tokyo?”

“During World War II, Secretary of War Henry Stimson decided that, because of its immense cultural importance, Kyoto should be spared from Allied bombing. The city is home to the old Imperial Palace and two thousand religious sites, including many famous temples. It’s one of the few Japanese cities with significant prewar areas still standing. Most importantly, it’s only half an hour by train from Osaka, Madoka’s home city.”

“Who’s Madoka?”

“She’s my friend. I use the internet to talk with her twice a week.”

Heather had a question. “Isn’t it the middle of the night there?”

“At this time of year, the difference is thirteen hours. When I contact her at 6 a.m., it’s 7 p.m. where she lives.”

“Does she speak English?” Ben asked.

“Yes. Sometimes, I speak to her in Japanese, and she replies in English.”

I wondered, “Doesn’t that get confusing?”

“It’s just code-switching.”

“What’s that?”

“A linguistics term. You have one way of chatting with peers, and a different method of addressing an official in a government office. Code-switching merely indicates that you have different speaking styles for different people and situations. For example, you would never say ‘Tsup?’ to Mr. Fontaine at a meeting.”

“My brother might,” responded Jen.

“Do you think in French during French class?”

“Mais oui, Mademoiselle Brown.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. That’s not how my mind works. I think in English, but translate it into Spanish for class.”

“You could try thinking in Spanish at home. Do you ever use Spanish on the internet, or read Spanish newspapers or books outside of class?”

“No.”

“What a shame.” Elizabeth’s voice diminished in sadness. “Twenty different countries and Puerto Rico have Spanish as either a de facto or de jure official language, and you aren’t taking advantage of what any of them have to offer.”

“Few of us use foreign languages outside of class,” Heather responded in a huff.

“We just have different playthings, I suppose,” Elizabeth said weakly.

Josh said, “I’ve never heard someone call homework a plaything before.”

Big Ben answered, “That’s how I think about my science fair projects.”

“He understands the difference between internal and external motivation.”

“I’ve had enough new terms for now, Elizabeth. Save it for tonight.”

“You two are meeting each other after school?” Heather asked in amazement.

“We have a history presentation,” stated Elizabeth.

“What’s it about?”

“We’re deciding tonight.” Two voices had become one in response to Jen’s question. My partner and I looked at each other in wonder.

“Mind. Meld. Time,” chimed Big Ben, just before the bell rang.

25. Elizabeth

“Sam, when I said ‘what a shame, ‘ did I do something wrong?” Although we were walking to calculus class, my mind dwelled on what Heather said at lunch.

“Well...”

“Be honest. I don’t have much practice with these conversations.”

“She may have interpreted it as disapproval. But you directed it towards me, and I sensed disappointment in your voice.”

“That’s what I felt.” I paused. “To have a key that unlocks so many doors and not even attempt to open any of them is just inconceivable to me.”

“What about all the doors you don’t open?”

“There are more doors than any one person can open. It’s impossible for me to read everything that is in French, but I can try to read articles from Le Monde, and I can read even more as I gain mastery of the language. If you had no interest in any of the cultures where Spanish is spoken, then why did you choose it instead of French?”

“I heard Spanish was easier.”

“Oh. Should I apologize to Heather?”

“You weren’t talking about her, so it’s your decision.”

“Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yes, Elizabeth, we are.”

We didn’t have much else to say before we reached class.

Mr. Schumer didn’t have an opportunity to ask us about relief, for, just as the bell rang, Mr. Fontaine announced the homecoming court via the intercom. “The freshman representative will be Frank Torocsik.”

Jen collapsed at her desk, groaning, “Oh, God, why him?”

Liv Wolf would represent the sophomore class. The court’s juniors would be Kat Murray, one of the cheerleaders, and Emily Monachesi, a three-sport athlete.

“Now for the seniors. In no particular order, Jen Torocsik, Janice Lehman, and Sam Brown.” Sam attempted to high-five Jen, but the latter barely responded. Although the senior trio included a member of the drama club, being a cheerleader is still the easiest path to popularity for girls at school. As noted, four of the six girls on the court are cheerleaders. It’s disappointing that there isn’t more diversity in their extracurricular activities.

Regarding such activities, Mr. Schumer had an announcement of his own. “We’re still trying to fill our slots for the regional high school math competition this Saturday morning at St. George’s College. We can send five competitors, and need four to make a full team, but we have just three commitments so far. There won’t be any calculus in this competition, so you won’t have to worry about that if you volunteer. Anyone who’s interested can see me after class.” George Crawford is the sole returnee from last year; I wondered who the third squad member was. Few students would be willing to leave the school at 8:00 the morning following the homecoming game to participate in anything.

After class, I asked the teacher if there would be any practices for the math team. He didn’t see the need. “If they don’t understand the material by now, they aren’t going to get it in a single hour of practice after school.”

“It might be worthwhile to know who my teammates are before I get on the van on Saturday.”

“Yes, yes, there’s that. Well, there’s George Crawford from last year, and we rounded up Ron Snyder.” I waited two or three more minutes, but nobody signed up for the team. Eventually, I left the room.

Just a few feet outside the classroom door, Bill Obaczky asked me, “Can I feel your breasts?” How considerate. He didn’t even say my name. If it weren’t for his football letter jacket, he would be unable to find a date. He’s the first senior to make a request, and the first senior I turned down.

“No, you may not.” At least he wasn’t as crude as some of the ninth-graders; I shudder at what some of them said.

I made my way to the library for study hall. Although I wanted to go to a music room to finish what I had started to play this morning, I did not want to bring more attention to myself by asking for a hall pass. I desperately needed a distraction. If no volunteer were to approach Mr. Schumer, we would have no math team, making it easier for Robert Muller to win that competition in his first year of eligibility. Since we have to face Vosberg in Quiz Bowl tomorrow, if we were to have a math team, he would have two full days and most of an evening to create nudity-related insults. I’m going to have to face that jerk tomorrow naked like this. I’ve carried our team to a 2-0 start; I need to overcome this anxiety for us to make it 3-0.

Inhale, hold it, exhale. Although calculus homework provided a temporary distraction, there wasn’t enough of it to last the entire period.

How was I going to last through two more classes, followed by quartet practice? Close your eyes, Elizabeth, and think of strawberries. Delicious strawberries with balsamic vinegar. Delicious onigiri and tofu. Delicious dinner at Sam’s coming up. I haven’t had dinner at a classmate’s house in years. What if I unwittingly insult the hosts? Are they as dysfunctional as my family? Is Vicky going to be in the house when I come home from practice this afternoon?

Just think of those strawberries with that vinegar – Italian balsamic vinegar. Italy, Rome, Friday’s presentation, and back to Sam. I don’t know how to move within her world. I hope this night isn’t an utter disaster.

I shouldn’t be catastrophizing like this. I have been able to handle short conversations with her. I can make outlines for a presentation and present them to her tonight.

By the time the bell rang, I had constructed a framework for my Teutoburg Forest option. It was time for my next class, and to sever this chain of worries. J’ai commencé à penser en francais.

26. Sam

“Jen, you should be happier about becoming a princess.”

“I know. I dreamt of becoming one for homecoming. It’s just that I never expected my brat of a brother to beat me to it.”

“It’s like he’s stealing your moment to shine.”

“Yeah. I don’t mind being upstaged by naked girl on the court. You’re my friend, and we’ll be there together to share the glory. But to be upstaged by my own brother in something he’s not even supposed to be in? It stinks. Stinks, stinks, stinks, stinks, stinks.”

I wanted Heather to be in the halls with us, but she doesn’t have Studio Art after Calc. She might know what to say. I could only echo Jen. “Yeah, it stinks.”