Chapter 6: Communication Breakdown

The morning after the party, I snuck out of Brian’s house before anyone else awoke. Sleep hadn’t helped my mood too much; I still felt some anger when the memory of the previous evening seeped back into my thoughts. My head was groggy as I trudged to my house, sleeping bag in hand.

I was hoping to fall straight into my bed, but unfortunately Melissa was yawning her way into the great room when I entered. She looked at me in surprise.

“You’re up early,” I murmured.

“You’re back early,” she observed.

“Couldn’t sleep at Bri’s.”

“Up all night partying?”

I wondered if it was a serious question or a joke. “Not really.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m just tired. The floor was uncomfortable. I’m going to try to sleep a little more in my bed.”

“Okay, sweetie ... Oh, Matt, I washed some clothes last night and I think you must have had a letter in your pocket. I’m sorry, I didn’t check before I started the wash, and, well, it pretty much disintegrated.”

My mom’s face was apologetic. After taking a moment to realize what letter she was talking about, I shrugged.

“Oh, it’s nothing I needed. I already read it.”

Melissa winced. “Was it from Julie?” she asked. “I guess you probably wanted to keep it.”

“Nah, that’s all right,” I dismissed.

Really, she’d done me a favor; now I wouldn’t waste any more of my life trying to extract meaning out of Julie’s terse note.

“How are things with her? Is she excited about February?”

“Um, yeah, I guess. Are we still going?”

I wondered why I was suddenly hoping she’d say no.

My mom’s brow wrinkled slightly. “Well, of course!”

“Cool,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. I turned to go to my room.

“You know what?” she murmured, her eyes sparkling as she gently grabbed my arm.

“What?” I replied warily. It was too early for this kind of tone.

“Have you looked at the calendar?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh, okay,” she said evenly.

I frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

I went to the kitchen and examined the wall calendar. “November twenty-fifth. It’s blank. So what? I can sleep all day.”

“No, silly, check out February.”

I eyed her for a moment and then flipped to the 1990 calendar. Our trip was blocked in. Nothing else was written on the page. “Okay,” I drawled, not seeing her point.

“Look at Wednesday.”

Wednesday? Of our trip? Then I let out an annoyed breath.

“Mom!”

“Maybe you can cook a nice dinner for Julie. I can help ... Or not, whatever you—”

“Enough, Mom,” I warned, marching back to my room with a roll of my eyes.

Melissa laughed gently as I closed the door and plopped into bed. I knew my mom was just teasing me, but the timing was not so great. She obviously hadn’t read that letter before washing it.

Valentine’s Day... Instead of a fun night with Julie, the only things I could see in my mind were those cheap perforated Valentine’s cards we used to pass out to all twenty-three kids in elementary school: fun, but meaningless.

I stayed home the rest of the weekend, ignoring an oddly high number of calls from Brian. On Monday morning, he was completely hyper when I got on the bus. I took my usual seat right in front of his.

“Where’s Pete?” I asked.

“Sick,” Carl and Brian said at the same time.

“Dude, what the hell happened to my coat?” Brian blurted out.

I frowned, glancing at his jacket. “Huh?”

“The morning after the party, it smelled fucking nasty!”

“I don’t know!”

“Did you like get up and puke on it that night?”

I made a face. “No way! It wasn’t me!” I hesitated. “It was probably Carmen. When we were in the woods, she threw up a couple of times. Maybe it splashed on your coat.”

Brian and Carl gawked at each other, their expressions a mix of disbelief, humor and disgust.

“Eew!”

“She really threw up?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “She was pretty fucked up. You saw her; she could hardly walk. I had to carry her back, remember?” I added dramatically.

“Crazy! Is she coming to school today?” Carl asked, peering out of the bus windows as her stop approached.

Brian shrugged, unconcerned. “Whatever. I called her yesterday, but she didn’t call back. And neither did you, ass wipe.” He grinned at me as he pounded my arm hard with a fist.

“Quit it,” I snapped, rubbing the blossoming ache. “I was—”

“Look!” Carl barked excitedly, saving me from having to deliver a lame excuse. “There she is!”

I watched with growing trepidation as Carmen hopped on the bus and walked to the rear. She glanced shyly at me as she neared, smiling a little. I smiled back reflexively, before straightening my face again.

“Hey,” she greeted, as she moved into Pete’s usual seat.

“Can’t sit there,” Carl said immediately.

“Why not? Where’s Pete?”

“Sick,” the three of us said together.

“We’re still saving it for him, though,” Carl added.

Carmen gave him a bewildered look, but she nonetheless stood up to move to Brian’s seat.

“Oh no,” he bellowed, holding up his palm toward her. “Can’t sit here either.”

She stood in the aisle, still confused. “What now?”

“This is my only other coat,” he explained, gripping the fabric protectively.

Carl laughed silently behind her back. I felt somewhat ashamed.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I don’t want you to puke on this one, too.”

Carl guffawed, unable to hold it in.

Carmen swallowed as she turned to me. “Matt,” she pleaded, shame in her voice and her eyes.

“It’s not Matt’s fault,” Brian chided. “You’re the one who got it all over the front of my coat. Wait, unless ... Unless you’re covering for him?”

Carmen opened her mouth but before she uttered a word, the bus driver slammed on the brakes to avoid some sudden obstacle. She lurched backward, tumbling into the aisle. While Carl and Brian gaped at each other in stupefied amusement, I helped her up.

“You okay?” I murmured.

“Yeah. Thanks,” she said quietly.

Her face was even redder than it had been before the fall. She glowered indignantly at Brian for a moment. “I’m going to go sit up front,” she announced.

“Fine with me. Hey wait, do you want Matt to carry you?” Brian called out as she marched up the aisle.

“Dude, shut up,” I hissed.

“What? Lighten up, man,” he said, still grinning.

I felt like hitting him in the shoulder but I knew that would only start a punching competition, and my arm would lose. I stayed quiet for the rest of the ride.

A few days later, Carmen told Brian to fuck off and that was the end of their relationship.

A week after the split, Brian was hanging out with us during guest rehearsal.

“So Matt, are you going to go out with Carmen?” he asked during a break.

“What are you talking about?”

“Word has it that she’s got the hots for you.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. I’d been hearing rumors, but I wasn’t going to admit it, especially not to Brian. “Besides, I’m with Julie, so, uh, no. I’m—”

“You should do it,” he continued.

I grimaced. “Did you not hear what I just said?”

“I heard you, but I still don’t see what you’re waiting for. Carmen isn’t that bad, especially at first. Then her personality starts getting in the way, but whatever. Besides, have you even heard from your girl lately?”

I took a long breath. In the past week, Brian was bringing up the Julie issue daily, and it was becoming very annoying.

“No, I haven’t.” There was no use lying about it.

“Well, there you go,” he said emphatically. “Besides, I don’t care if you go out with Carmen. I’m finished with her.”

“Oh, thanks, that’s good to know.”

The others just watched silently.

“Come on, let’s try this song again,” I urged.

Fortunately, Brian didn’t bring up Julie or Carmen again that evening.

Lara came into my room later that night while I was working on homework. She sat on my bed with her hands under her thighs.

“What’s up?” she finally asked.

“Math.”

“No. I meant what’s up with you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re acting a little weird lately. Julie still hasn’t written?”

“No,” I managed to get out.

“Maybe she’s—”

“I don’t want to talk about Julie. She’s going to write soon, I’m sure. She’s just busy.”

“All right. What’s wrong then?”

I idly tapped on my paper with my pencil for a moment. “Everything’s fine.”

“Is this thing with Carmen bothering you?” Lara asked after a brief pause.

“You know about that.” It wasn’t really a question.

“Sure. Everyone does,” Lara said simply.

“Great.”

“You’re the hero, after all.”

I whirled in my chair and glared at her. “I don’t really need to hear that from you!”

Lara was taken aback. “I’m—I’m sorry, Matt, I didn’t mean to...” she stammered.

I softened a bit. “I’m sorry too,” I said quickly. “But it’s a little annoying. That whole thing ... I didn’t want to carry her through the woods, believe me. You know, I don’t even really like Carmen all that much.”

“No, she doesn’t seem your type,” Lara agreed.

“But I keep hearing that she wants me to ask her out!” I blurted out, exasperated.

Lara shrugged. “Just tell her no.”

I laughed incredulously, spreading my hands. “And how the hell does that work? I can’t just go up to her and, and tell her, what? That I’m not going to ask her out? Pass her a note, saying ‘Will you not go out with me?’”

Lara sniffed. “Just say you want to be friends.”

“Well, I don’t even really want that.”

“Oh.”

“Basically, the whole thing is something I don’t want to deal with right now.”

Lara was silent.

“Plus it’s making things weird with my friends,” I added, after a pause.

“Why?”

“Brian keeps bothering me about Julie not writing, and about Carmen wanting me. He wants me to go out with her. It’s annoying.”

“Sorry. Didn’t know he was being such a dick.”

“Unfortunately he is, and I have no idea why. He doesn’t even like Carmen. Why would he want me to go out with her? Then she’d still be around when we hang out. The whole thing is ridiculous.”

“That is a little weird,” Lara agreed.

“I think it’s the Julie thing,” I continued, becoming more animated. “That’s like all he talks about since we got back from Montauk.”

“What’s he saying?” Lara asked.

I made a face and used a dumb voice to imitate Brian. “‘Has she written? Why are you still with her? Has she written yet? Huh? Huh? You’re crazy to go out with someone you don’t even get to see!’ Annoying stuff like that.” I pounded a fist to my desk in disgust. “Ugh, it’s like he’s trying to break us up or something.”

“Can’t you talk to him?”

I slumped back in my chair and stared out the window. What a mess.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “Since the night of the woods party, everything’s been weird. You know me and those guys have always hung out together, since we were kids.”

It was true. We’d all become friends by geography. We lived within moderate walking distance of each other and relatively far away from anyone else. Such is mountain living. We all loved camping and hanging out outdoors, swimming in the lakes, skiing and fishing, so we would’ve been friends anyway, even if we hadn’t been on the same bus route. Throughout elementary and middle school, we were pretty much inseparable. But now...

“Things can change,” Lara murmured, echoing my thoughts.

“Brian was always a little different, though,” I continued. “You know, he doesn’t play in the band. He plays soccer instead. None of us do.”

“You can still be friends even if you don’t do the same things.”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that.”

Lara just looked at me. I sat up and took a deep breath. I needed to put my mind on something else, because I was starting to feel dark again about the situation with my friends.

“You could just ignore him,” she suggested.

I shrugged. “Whatever ... I really need to finish this homework.”

Luckily Lara let it go. After she left my room, I couldn’t really focus on the mathematics assignment, though. My thoughts inevitably returned to Brian, wondering what the bus ride would be like the next morning. I was beginning to dread seeing him, I realized. From one week to the next, I’d started feeling like we weren’t such close friends as I’d always thought.

Christmas break approached and none too soon. Despite going through the hallways expecting some sort of showdown with Carmen, nothing of note happened with her during the final weeks of school. She might say hi and I would say hi back, but that was it. Brian continued his teasing and pestering, but it lessened when I started ignoring his comments. Then school was out, and it was a welcome respite from the uneasy scene.

Beth and Hans visited us for a couple of weeks, arriving a few days before Christmas. Like everything in my life at that time, I was of two minds about their visit. On the one hand, I loved skiing with Hans. He wasn’t afraid of going off the trail to find fun ledges to jump off of. Even though my mom was a ski instructor, I’d learned most of my technique from her brother. On the other hand, having my aunt there meant the subject of Julie was going to be discussed. I mulled over my situation, wondering how much I’d have to tell them. There would surely be talk of our February trip. Since I’d instigated that plan, Julie would figure in that conversation. I found I had no response, though; I had no idea what was going on with my girlfriend. If I could even call her that anymore...

When Beth asked everyone to gather in the living room after dinner on the day they arrived, I thought the topic was finally going to be broached. I spent a few uncomfortable moments on the sofa until Hans came through the front door, awkwardly carrying a large cardboard box.

“Matt,” he called out, “there’s another box out on the deck. Bring it in, will you?”

Soon the two heavy boxes were set gently on the living room floor.

“Look what I found when I was cleaning out my closet,” Aunt Beth announced.

We gathered around, wondering what could possibly be in them. They were old and worn, but still sturdy, cut from high-quality cardboard. Hans sliced through the tape with his pocketknife. He opened the flaps of one box and let Lara peer in.

“Cameras?” Lara asked.

“Your father’s,” Hans confirmed.

“I forgot you still had these,” Sarah murmured.

Beth chuckled. “Yeah, every time I came across them these last few years, I’d make a mental note to bring them, or have you take them back with you, but then I’d always forget! Now that the kids are older, I figured they might like to see them.”

Sarah and Melissa glanced at each other, sadness in their eyes. They reached for each other’s hands. I moved to examine one of the boxes. There were all kinds of camera cases, equipment bags, plastic-wrapped parcels, trays, containers, and other strange implements.

“I knew he took a lot of pictures, but I didn’t know he collected cameras,” said Lara.

“He had some that came through his business contacts,” Sarah remarked. She let out a wistful laugh. “I don’t know if you could quite call it a collection, since he was always selling them and getting others. But I these are the ones he was keeping for himself. Go ahead, check them out.”

I delicately pulled out a plain box. Inside there were three wrapped items: a larger rectangular object and two smaller round objects. I removed a camera body from the large plastic wrapping. I didn’t know much about cameras, but I could tell this was of a whole different quality than the plastic one that our family now owned. The black metal body had a script ‘Leica’ engraved on it. There was a somewhat odd description to the right: ‘Camera, Still Picture, KE-7A’. There were dials with numbers on the top and back, and a film-advance lever that rotated around what had to be the shutter button. Another round knob was cocked at an angle on the corner of the body. Everything seemed very precise and the camera had a certain solidity that felt just right.

I handed the body to Lara and then unwrapped one of the small round packages. Inside was a black lens. There were a few rows of cryptic numbers written around the barrel. I took off the cap to examine the smooth glass that fronted the piece. On the front rim more identifying marks and numbers were written.

“Here, let me see that,” I said to Lara, holding my hand out.

She passed the body back to me. I fitted the lens up to the flange and after some gentle experimentation, it clicked into place. I peered through the little round view window, panning the camera across the room. Lara posed with a smile as I aimed at her.

When I shifted the view to my mothers, I saw that there were tears in their eyes. I put the camera down, looking at them soberly. Beth wrapped an arm around Melissa.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said, wiping at a wet streak.

“We can put them away,” I offered.

“No, no, I’m okay. It’s just that these cameras bring back lots of old memories,” she sniffed. “And you kind of ... look like Chris, when he was taking pictures,” she added softly.

“These do bring back memories,” Hans agreed.

I watched the adults exchange sad smiles, echoes of a time long past. I wondered what pictures these cameras had taken. I picked up the body again, looking it over with even more interest. My father once held this in his hands. I felt a little closer to him, in some small, but significant way.

“Do they work?” I asked.

“Sure, your father used all of them,” Melissa said. “He had a few favorites that he used most, though. I’m sure they’re in there somewhere.”

“Is the little camera we use now one of Dad’s?” asked Lara.

“No, those weren’t around back then. We used one of your father’s cameras for a while when you were younger, but when the newer cameras came out that were automatic, we put these away. Hans took them into the city to have them checked out, a few years ago.”

“More than a few,” he said, with a disbelieving shake of his head.

Melissa scooted next to me and pointed to three serial numbers printed on the back of the camera body. “Most of these are interesting cameras that collectors were looking for. If I’m not mistaken, this was a military camera. I think that’s what these numbers were related to.”

“I thought Dad didn’t like the military,” Lara said with a frown.

Sarah laughed gently. “He didn’t always agree with their actions, true. Such were the times back then. But he had a few clients who collected military equipment, including cameras. This was probably one that was on its way to a client and he decided to keep it instead.”

“You can try it,” Melissa said to me. “There’s no film, but it will still click.”

“The batteries are probably dead, though.”

Melissa laughed a little. “That camera doesn’t need batteries.”

I thought for a second, puzzled. “Then how does everything move?”

“It’s all manual.”

I was impressed, though still skeptical. “What about the flash?” I asked, pointing to the built-in window.

“That’s not a flash. That helps you frame the picture. On this camera you have to do everything yourself,” continued Melissa. “Focus, set the aperture and shutter time, wind the film ... All of it. If you don’t know how to set these things just right, your pictures can turn out too dark or bright, or out of focus.”

“Why would he want these, if they were such a pain to use?” asked Lara.

“Why does anyone collect anything old?”

“But he used them, too, and some of these cameras were pretty new when he got them,” Sarah added.

Even though the camera I held was clearly well-made by any standard, its apparent difficulty of use made me wonder why anyone would keep it. My idea of a good camera was something you took out of its case, aimed, and pressed the button. Aim and press, aim and press.

“Weren’t there better cameras back then, though?” I asked.

“Better?” repeated Melissa. “Well, better is a tough word. Probably not better. Easier to use? Maybe a little. But don’t forget these are fifteen years old, or more. Automatic focus and all that was still a while off. You didn’t take pictures as casually in those days. That’s why we have the camera we have now. You just point it and shoot.”

I laughed a little, hearing her repeat my thoughts aloud. I set the camera down on the table, unsure what to make of the relics. It was neat to see some new part of my father’s life, and when I first saw the cameras I thought there might be something useful. Now it seemed that there was just a bunch of antiquated, hard-to-use artifacts in a box.

“They’re interesting,” I finally said, staring at the boxes. I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I glanced at Melissa. She had a knowing smile on her face, like she was withholding a secret. “What?” I asked.

She picked up the camera and handed it to me. She pointed to the film-winding lever. “Come on, try it. Turn that to the right.”

I slowly turned the lever with my thumb. The camera issued a series of little clicks and then sat still, poised for whatever came next. I was surprised at the precision of the movement, and even more startled at how much it felt like this simple mechanical act had just set up an entire world of possibilities.

“Now press here to take the photo,” she indicated.

I held the view window up to my eye out of habit as I pressed the shutter release. The camera sprang to life for a split second. It was an unexpectedly amazing feeling. I could sense the mechanism taking the picture through my hands. It was like an extension of my fingertips, so much different than the disconnected and delayed click one received from pressing an electronic camera’s button. I wound the lever and shot a few more blank frames, each one sending a slight shiver of satisfaction down my spine.

“Wow,” I breathed slowly, newfound respect in my voice.

“What?” asked Lara.

“Here, just try it.”

She wound the lever and pressed the button. “That’s cool. It feels so ... so real.”