Authors: Han Nolan
I stood up on the polar bear and called out to Pip. He saw me and waved, and the two of them turned and cut across the lawn toward me. That's when I discovered that Pip's White Plains pen pal was a girl, and that's when I saw the two of them walking together holding hands, and that's when my heart started racing in my chest and I felt so dizzy I had to sit back down on the polar bear.
When Pip and the girl—a pretty girl with long straight tangle-free brown hair, with the bangs pulled back in a barrette on the top of her head, and wearing makeup and a matching pink shorts and shirt outfit with strappy white sandals—caught up to me, I stood back up and forced myself to smile. I could hear my heart
pounding in my chest, and it was so loud, I had to lean in to hear what Pip was saying to me.
"This is Randy Michaels," Pip said, wrapping his arm around Randy's shoulders and giving me a big grin. "And this is my oldest friend, Esther."
I smiled bigger and gave a half wave at Randy and noticed that she was looking me over and grinning like she was ready to burst out laughing. That's when I remembered what I had on and I looked down at myself with my hanging sack of a gym uniform, and then I heard it—Randy couldn't contain herself. Her laughter bubbled up out of her and she fell against Pip and covered her mouth, and Pip laughed, too, and asked, "What's so funny?"
Randy pointed at me. "What have you got on? Is that your gym uniform?"
Pip laughed some more and said, "That's just Esther; she always looks like that."
I didn't know my heart could pound any louder, but it did. I shouted above it, "I do not! Pip, I do not. I've never worn this silly uniform before in my life. Mother just ordered it because my old one was so worn."
Pip, seeing that I wasn't laughing, closed his mouth, and then Randy said, "We have the same uniform, only ours is gold and they ... uh, fit a little better."
That last bit cracked her up again and she was falling all over Pip laughing.
I said, "My mother bought it big so I could grow into it," and at this Randy looked at me with such a horrified
look on her face, I knew she was imagining the monster I would have to become if I were to ever fit into that uniform. Then she burst out laughing again, and I tried my hardest to laugh, too. I knew that normally I would find it funny, but now it wasn't funny to me at all. Inside I felt like something was breaking, and I felt so scared I didn't know what to do. I laughed a fake laugh, which was hard to do because I could hardly breathe and my heart was racing. The sun had come up fully by then and I could see that Randy was really nice-looking. Nothing on her face was too big or too small. She looked perfect. I figured she had probably gotten all A's on every report card since kindergarten. She looked like the kind of girl who skied and rode horses and looked beautiful doing both of these things. I bet her hair never got tangled, even when she had to stuff it up into a bathing cap to go swimming. When she laughed, she opened her mouth wide enough for me to see that she didn't have even one cavity. All her teeth were white and perfect, just like her.
I stood watching her laughing at me, feeling my heart banging against my chest, closing off my air passages, and I thought that if I didn't do something—leave or run or something—I was going to pass out right there on top of the polar bear, so I said, "Are we going to run, or did you come over to tell me you were canceling today?"
Pip wiped his eyes and shook his head. "No, we're running. Randy's going to wait for us." He took her hand in his and added, "She doesn't run."
Pip said this as though her not running was the
cutest, sweetest thing ever, as though no one was as clever as Randy because she didn't run.
Pip said, "I told Randy she could look around the grounds, if that's okay."
I shrugged. "Yeah, sure, I guess so." I looked at Pip and then Randy. They were the exact same height. I looked back at Pip. He looked taller than usual. He looked lots taller. When did he get so tall? I asked him, "Pip, when did you get so tall? You look taller all of a sudden."
Pip ran his hand through his bangs so they stood straight up and said, "I knew you weren't listening the other day. I told you, I've grown two more inches—six inches since Christmas. I'm five-two now, and the doctor says I might grow another two or three inches before the summer's out." Pip glanced over at Randy, then back at me. "He thinks I could be around six feet tall once I reach my twenties." He shoved his thick-rimmed glasses up on his nose and smiled.
My heart pounded. My ears were full of it; I could hear blood rushing around in my head, I swear that I could. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I felt scared. I wanted to run.
"Okay, well—let's run," I said.
I set off toward the woods and waited for Pip to catch up to me.
It took him a minute or so because he had to say his good-byes to Randy, and then when he caught up to me, he said, "Isn't she great?"
"I didn't know Randy was a girl," I said, leaping over a rock and entering the woods.
"That's because you weren't listening. I told you yesterday. I said
she
was coming. I said
she,
not he. I knew you weren't listening."
I picked up my speed, trying to match the rhythm of my heartbeat, and Pip sped up, too.
"No racing," he said. "Remember, we agreed; no more racing on our training runs."
"I know. I remember," I said, already gasping for air. I wanted to slow down but I couldn't. We ran through the woods side by side along the piney trail.
"Randy wants to join the Peace Corps, just like I do," Pip said. "And she's into politics like I am, and her parents both teach at Columbia University, so her parents are teachers like mine. Isn't that crazy how alike we are?"
"Crazy," I said. I ran faster.
"You're racing," Pip said.
"So what," I said. "Let's. Let's race. Come on!"
I took off down the hill and around a boulder toward the first pond, and Pip followed. About thirty seconds later he had caught up to me, and then he passed me. I sped up and reached out to tag his shirt, and Pip sped up. I ran faster and so did Pip. Pip ran so fast, he was getting away from me. I tried to catch up but he was too fast. He was getting farther and farther away, and I wondered when this had happened. When did Pip get faster than me? I pushed myself to run harder, to catch
up. I saw his red shirt in the distance. I kept my focus on that shirt and tried to speed up, tried to catch him, but he was too fast. He was leaving me behind. As soon as I thought this, as soon as I realized the truth of what was happening to me, I stopped. I just stopped running. I leaned over and gasped for air, and I could feel tears filling the rims of my eyes. I could feel them spill over as I gasped and coughed and spit the heavy saliva that had collected in my mouth. I straightened up and let my tears roll down my face. I felt a great pressure come down on my chest, and I decided I was having a heart attack. I was having a heart attack because my heart couldn't take it. I knew my heart couldn't take being left behind again. All my life I had been left behind—in school, by my family, then by Laura and Kathy, then King-Roy, and finally, Pip. Even Pip had moved ahead of me. Even Pip had grown up.
Everyone had left me behind and I didn't know how I would ever catch up.
I didn't want to have my heart attack in the middle of the trail, so I dragged myself, dizzy and panting, off the path, then moved deeper into the woods. Behind a cluster of pine trees, I dropped onto the ground and waited for my full-out heart attack. I wondered if I was going to die. I waited—still panting; my heart still pounding—and listened with my eyes shut tight. The pressure in my chest eased up some, and I rolled onto my back and stared up at the sky. My heart was pounding still, and my hands and legs felt shaky. A tear spilled out of my left eye and ran into my hair. "I've been left behind," I said. "The whole world has left me behind. How did this happen?"
I asked this of the sky, but I knew. I knew how it had happened. It had all started when I had stayed back—no, even before that, when I couldn't keep up with the lessons in class and then I stayed back—and Mother hired the tutors to help me to catch up, but she knew, even then, I would never catch up. That's why she kept hiring the tutors every summer, and that's why she gave
up on me this summer. She realized the tutors didn't help; I'd always be behind everybody else.
I remembered the slumber party I was invited to in fifth grade. I remembered going into the woods behind Sara Partridge's house with all the other girls, and Sara pulled out a pack of cigarettes, a pack of Marlboros, and she passed the pack around. No one else looked surprised. It was as if they had all planned this. They had planned to go smoking in the woods and they didn't tell me. Everyone took a cigarette except me. I didn't want one. I didn't want smoke in my throat and lungs. What was the fun of that? I didn't get it. The girls all lit up their cigarettes and sucked up the smoke and choked and tried to look all grown-up and I thought they looked like they were little girls playing at being grown-ups. They were posing and acting like they were so smart and so grown-up, and I thought they had looked so silly. But I had been wrong. That night in the woods was some kind of initiation, and I had missed it. I had passed it up because I thought it was stupid, and then they passed me up and left me behind, holding the Lavoris mouthwash they had used to hide the smell of tobacco on their breaths.
It was always like that. I didn't get it. I didn't get it at all. I realized this, lying there in the woods staring up at the sky. I didn't get how the world worked. Why did we have wars? Why did people hate? Why did white people hate black people? Why did we have to get grades
in school? Why did the popular kids pick on the unpopular kids? Why? I didn't get it.
I didn't understand why people had to change. Why couldn't we all just stay the same? Why did boy-girl friendships have to become all about sex? Why did girls have to flirt and boys have to fight? Why did Laura and Kathy go off to Nantucket together and leave me behind? Why did they do that to me? Because I didn't talk about boys all the time? Because I didn't carry a purse? Were those reasons to leave me behind? If I started carrying a purse, would they be my friends again? Did I want friends who wouldn't like me unless I carried a purse?
And why did King-Roy act like he liked me and then like he didn't? Why did he hug me? Didn't he hug me? Maybe he didn't but dumb me thought he did.
What was wrong with me, anyway? That's what I wanted to figure out. I heard Pip calling to me but I ignored him. I was in the middle of my heart attack; I wanted to be left alone.
I looked up through the trees at the white clouds in the sky, and I thought about my polar-bear rock. I didn't want to believe it, but I knew I still did—I still believed the polar bear could hear me. I still believed stuffed animals were real. Logically I knew it wasn't true, but in my heart I knew a part of me still believed. I believed they could see and breathe, and I still treated all my stuffed animals as though they were alive just in case maybe they were—maybe. I still liked climbing trees and
running and wearing pants instead of dresses, and I didn't understand why no one else my age did. Why? Why did they have to change, and if they did have to change, why couldn't I? Why wouldn't I? I could wear dresses all the time. I could smoke and wear makeup and carry a purse. I could talk about boys for hours on the phone and play spin the bottle at parties and kiss the boys in the closet. I could do all those things, so why didn't I? What was wrong with me that I hated all those things? What was wrong with me?
"There you are!" Pip said, coming upon me suddenly and almost giving me another heart attack.
"What are you doing there?" he asked.
"Having a heart attack," I said. I sat up and pulled the pine needles out of my tangled hair. I put the baseball cap that had fallen off back on my head and stood up. I guessed the heart attack, if that's what it was, was over, but I still felt light-headed.
"Stop fooling around, Esther. Randy's waiting for us."
Pip said Randy's name and I felt my heart rate pick up again.
I looked at Pip, standing in front of me in his best red T-shirt and his real cross-country running shoes, with his cheeks flushed and his glasses slipped down on his nose, and I asked him, "So are you and Randy boyfriend and girlfriend now?"
Pip shrugged, looking away. "Maybe. She really likes me." He looked at me. "She likes me just the way I am."
I turned away and said, "Well, that's special, then,
and you're lucky, even if you only just met." I started walking. "I've got to go now. I'll see you later."
Pip said, "Say hi to King-Roy when you see him."
"Yeah," I said, still walking away, "when I see him."
Pip called back, "Esther, are you mad at me?"
I stopped and turned around and took a few steps toward him. "No, Pip, I'm not mad."
When I turned to leave again, he said, "Are you jealous?"
I looked back and tried to smile. "No, I'm not jealous. It's great that you have a girlfriend now. Randy's really pretty."
Pip smiled and looked down at his shoes. "She is, isn't she? She's—well, she's perfect. I don't know why she would like someone like me."
"Pip, you're the most fun person I've ever known, and the nicest and everything else, that's why. And anyway," I added, "you're going to be tall, too. It's really great how you've grown all of a sudden," I said, choking on the word
sudden.
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes again, so I turned away, and looking down, I said, "I won't be running anymore with you, Pip."
Pip jogged over to me and touched my shoulder. "Esther, what's wrong? Are you crying? Why aren't you running with me anymore?"
"I can't keep up," I said, holding my back to him and leaning against a pine tree. "I don't know when it happened, but you're too fast for me now."
"So?" Pip tried to come around to face me, but I kept turning away from him.
"So everything's changed. Everything's different and I can't keep up."