Chapter 19 Shane
Shane
On the way back to New York, we finish up the film in the disposable camera.
Ethan says there’s not enough pictures of me, so he takes a lot of photos, mostly of just me driving.
We get a couple of us together at the state line into Pennsylvania.
We stand at the sign and angle the camera to get both of us in the shot.
Ethan kisses me on the cheek, and I hope that we were able to get that in the frame.
By the time we use up all the film in the camera, we’ve crossed into New York, and we take a detour toward Juanita’s trailer.
We probably should have called first, but I figure if she’s at the Denny’s, we can just leave the card and key chain at the door.
It was a nice thing she did for us. And I have a feeling that what she said to Ethan helped.
I tell Ethan that I hope she’s home. Maybe she’ll fix us some more tea and we can tell her about scattering Everett’s ashes.
But when we pull into the trailer park, and I drive around to her lemon-yellow trailer, I notice that it isn’t lemon-yellow anymore.
“What the hell?” Ethan leans forward in the seat.
It’s not the same trailer at all. In the day and a half since we’ve been here, the lemon yellow has turned a charred black. The bay window is boarded up with plywood. Some of the glass is broken and the curtains are torn and singed.
I get a horrible, sinking feeling as I stare at it. “This…can’t be the right one.”
Ethan gets out of the car.
I cut the engine and follow him over to the door. He knocks on it a couple of times, but no one answers.
I peek inside one of the windows. I can barely see, but it looks like there’s been a fire in one part of the trailer. Some of the mushroom and gnome knickknacks are still intact, albeit covered in soot. “Oh no.”
“What?” Ethan says.
“Excuse me.” I hear a voice behind us and turn to see a young woman with a toddler in her arms. “Do you boys need some help?”
“We’re looking for Juanita,” I tell her.
The woman gives a us a weird look. “Miss Juanita passed away a few months ago.”
I stare at her for a second. “No, that’s not possible. We saw her just the other day. We went in and talked to her.”
“She made us tea,” Ethan says.
The toddler in the woman’s arms starts to get fussy.
“I don’t know what to tell you. Miss Juanita died months ago.
She was a nice lady, and people have been real sad around here.
” She sets the squirming toddler down. “We used to go to the Denny’s out by the exit to see her.
Sit in her section. But her trailer caught fire one night.
They say it was an electrical problem. The ambulance came and all, but… ” The woman shakes her head.
“That’s not possible,” I insist. I turn to look at Ethan. “Right? I mean, we were just here.”
“Are you sure it was her?” Ethan says.
The kid tugs impatiently on the woman’s hand. “Listen, I wish I could help, but I gotta get going.” She wanders away with the kid, and I watch her go. Then I turn to Ethan again. He turns to me.
And then we both turn to the trailer.
“No fucking way,” I say. “We talked to her. On the phone and face-to-face.”
Ethan stares at the door. It’s still a faded lemon yellow. He carefully sets the card and key chain down at the bottom, arranging them like an offering.
“Ethan?” I say, as he walks down the steps toward the car.
“Let’s go,” he says, getting in.
I take one last look at the trailer before getting in the car. I start the engine and glance warily over at Ethan. “Are you okay?”
He looks down at the chipped black polish on his nails. He says, “People come into our lives and leave them at just the right times.” He reaches for my hand, and I take it.
I feel compelled to have a moment of silence for Juanita before we drive off. As we pull away from the trailer, Ethan turns around in the seat and looks behind us. He waves.
I glance in the rearview mirror. I think I catch the glimpse of an old lady in a patchwork skirt, smiling and waving to us goodbye.
When I pull up to the Sawyer’s house, its early evening and dark. It almost feels as if I’m pulling up to this house for the first time. I guess it’s because something is different now.
I look over at Ethan and he looks over at me.
“I could pay for a ride into the city for you, if you want,” he says. “If you don’t want to drive.”
“You wouldn’t need to do that,” I say. “I think I might be okay driving.”
“You sure? Because it kinda sucks. The parking too.”
“I can figure it out.”
“We could go to a Broadway show,” he suggests.
I smile. “Whatever you want to do.”
“There’s a break in March when I’ll be home.”
“Maybe you can meet Mikayla,” I suggest. “If you want to.”
“I’d like that.”
Ethan reaches around his neck and takes off the chain necklace and lock. He gives it to me. I take out one of my earrings and give it to him.
We sit there for a minute, and I half expect his parents to come out of the house, wondering why we’re just sitting in the driveway, but no one does.
“I’ll develop the pictures,” I tell him.
“I can’t wait to see them.” He pauses and bites his lip. “I have to go back to the city tomorrow, since we had all those delays. Otherwise, I’d stay.”
“I get it. I have to go back to work. And see my kid.”
“You think she’d like me?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Definitely. Or you can bribe her with unicorns. Just don’t tell her I told you.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “If I email you, you’ll email me back, right?”
“Yes,” I promise him, taking one of his hands in both of mine. “I swear to you. I’ll email you back. I’ll email you. I’ll call you. I’ll stalk you on IM. I’ll make this work, Ethan.”
He smiles one of his old smiles, a happy one I remember from years ago, and leans over to kiss me before he gets out of the car to get his stuff.
And after giving him another kiss goodbye and a long hug, I know it’s not really a goodbye. There’s no way I’m saying goodbye to him ever again.
As soon as I’m back to my place, before I go over to Gina’s to pick up Mikayla, I get on my computer and send him an email. I don’t know if he’ll see it tonight or until he gets back to the city. I just tell him that I miss him, I love him, and I can’t wait to see him again.
As I scroll through my inbox real quick, full of mostly junk, I remember that unread email from Everett.
I find it take a breath. I know that whatever he had to say to me a few months ago doesn’t matter so much now. Maybe he wanted to remind me of how much he hates me, I don’t know, but there’s only one way to find out, and I’m ready to do that right now.
I prepare myself for the worst and open it.
And I read Everett’s last words to me.
***
From: Everett Sawyer
To: Shane Carraway
Subject: Hey
Date: October 4, 1998
Hey Shane,
I know it’s been like forever since we’ve talked and if you still don’t want to talk to me that’s ok.
I just wanted to tell you that I found that pic of you and Ethan in my stuff.
I completely forgot about it honestly. I stuck it in a box somewhere and didn’t think about it anymore.
It just reminded me of all the shit that went down at graduation, and I just wanted you to know that I’m not like pissed about it anymore.
It’s obvious you had a thing for Ethan, and he had a thing for you.
It was a huge dick move for me to act the way that I did, and I’m really sorry about it now.
I also did something else really shitty, and I know you’re going to hate me more than you already do.
I don’t want to put it in an email, though.
I’d rather talk to you about it, face-to-face.
I heard you were with Gina and have a kid now, so I’m not sure of your number anymore, but my cell is 315-555-4789 and my pager is 315-555-2369. I’d like to talk to you.
Please give me a call soon. I miss you.
Ev