Chapter 29
B enny must be stopped. She was wielding her power over me too much. She’d wrangled me into going to a farm, while wearing overalls and a flannel shirt, brushing my hair into pigtails as she giggled at the ridiculousness.
“Pigtails, Benny?” I asked, giving her a pointed look in the mirror of the upstairs bathroom. “Were the overalls not punishment enough?”
“Be careful or I’ll demand you keep a stick of hay in your mouth all day like Old MacDonald,” Benny said, cackling. “Ee i ee i ohhhhh.”
I deadpanned, “You really need to grow up.”
“Growing up is a scam.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, considering I’d been an adult since I was twelve.
“Life is very serious,” Benny continued. “But you can’t take it that seriously.”
“So the answer is to go pick autumnal vegetables at a farm?”
“Charlie, when you can go pick squash out of the ground while wearing overalls and pigtails, you do it. If you don’t invest in your joy, you lose it.”
“Joy,” I whispered. It was a simple three-letter word that I probably hadn’t thought about or even considered since before I left for college.
Mom and Benny were, of course, joy enthusiasts.
But I thought joy was silly and flimsy in the face of the horrors of the world.
What was the point of it when everything was so terrible?
We had just lived through a pandemic and if you watched the news, you’d find a lot more things that inspire horror rather than joy.
If I had spent any time thinking about joy over the last few years, I would have found it lacking and callous.
I’d concede to some happy moments during this whole experiment, but joy was something else entirely. Joy was a line in the sand I couldn’t cross.
Benny tapped the top of my parted hair and declared me finished. We descended the stairs in tandem, put on ratty sneakers that could stand to get dirty from the farm, and got in the car. We had a bit of a drive out to Moorpark and Alex was meeting us.
“I take it you don’t care about joy?” Benny picked the conversation back up while we were driving.
“It’s not a priority for me, no,” I said to her.
“I feel like when you’re a kid, you have all this fun, but then you have to grow up.
You have to get serious about your life.
You have to be responsible. And life is hard, Ben.
Mom sheltered us from just how hard it really is.
Joy doesn’t put food on the table. It doesn’t do anything. ”
“I know you worried our entire life would fall apart, but Charlie, you’re thirty now. Mom did put food on the table. Nothing catastrophic happened during our childhood. Mom’s methods were unconventional, but you never did have to save us, did you?”
I paused, not wanting to give Benny the satisfaction that she was right. That all the energy I spent convinced I knew better was... wasted.
“So you’re saying I worried for nothing, right?” My words had an edge to them I couldn’t shake.
“No. I mean, Charlie, you were an anxious kid. It hurt my heart to see it, because it seemed like everything Mom did upset you or made you more stressed out. But we’re all good now. You can relax. Let go of that fear.”
“Relax?” I scoffed. “I can never relax, Benny.”
“What did you think would happen? What worried you so much?”
“Ben, you thought Mom was fun and so did I, but she was unpredictable. We never had a stable home.”
“See, I liked that about our life.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“Okay, I understand that. We’re different people. All I’m saying is that you had a bunch of fears and they didn’t all come true, so maybe letting them go once and for all could do you some good.”
“Maybe.”
“But, yeah, about joy, you’re right,” Benny said.
“It doesn’t do anything...” she paused “... except make life worth living. Without joy, what is the freaking point, Charlie? When you’re a kid, all you care about is getting to the joy.
People who focus on how horrible the world is are not any better than people who decide to feel joy despite all the reasons not to.
You have a choice. You can see all this pain in the world and decide to bring light to it.
Or you can harden because of it. But, it’s a choice . ”
“I don’t have time for joy,” I replied.
“Well, this month you do.” She scooted into the carpool lane and shot up to eighty-five miles per hour.
“Do me a favor, and this is a request—clear your mind today. Just be in the moment. Don’t think about whether this is worth your time or if it’s stupid or if you should be doing something more productive.
Just fall into it. Let go for an afternoon.
Be a kid again. Will you do that for me? ”
“It’s a request,” I told her. “So, yeah, I’ll try.”
I didn’t tell her that joy also felt dangerous to me.
It reminded me of those first euphoric months with Noah, the letting go, the giving in.
Or times with our dad when he’d sweep into town and the world felt glittery and magical again.
Because, the depth of your joy can also match the depth of your despair.
If you feel it all, you have to feel the bad things, too.
That was the part I couldn’t shake. It seemed to me that giving up joy was a fair trade for never having to be irreparably broken ever again.
Benny turned up the music and I listened to her singing under her breath as she drove the rest of the way to the farm with such high speeds that I found myself trying to push my foot onto an imaginary brake.
We arrived at the farm with my jaw clenched, but when Alex got out of his car in sweatpants and a black Henley, his face bright, I looked at Benny and swallowed hard.
“He looks hot,” I said, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, he does,” she said. “Let’s go objectify him while he picks romaine for us.”
I laughed.
“You’re horrible.”
“Hey, being just a little bad can be joyous, Charlize.”
I shook my head at her. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re a bad influence.”
“And I’ll say it again: thank you . I take it as the highest compliment. Plus, I got you to laugh and really, that’s all I’ve ever tried to do. Your clown concierge, at your service.” She did a little curtsy.
“Alright, let’s go, Chuckles,” I said to her, opening the car door, and without looking back, I heard her bust out a howl of laughter.
Benny and I both walked up to Alex and he gave her a hug, then pulled me into his arms and kissed me hard, leaving me a little breathless.
“You look the part,” he said, twirling one of my pigtails around on his finger.
“I look absurd,” I said.
“I think you look adorable.”
“You know what, you two?” Benny cried. “Don’t third-wheel me. This whole thing was my idea.”
Alex and I both made a show of turning toward her, bestowing all our attention on Benny, giving each other a little side smile as we did so. She nodded in triumph and then clasped arms with us both, walking us to the line of people waiting to pay for their tickets.
“Alex,” Benny said. “The plan is to have silly fun. Are you in?” She pointed her thumb over at me. “This one over here doesn’t believe in joy.”
“I’m in,” Alex said. “Me and joy have a bit of a complicated relationship, too.”
“Both of you,” Benny said, tsking. “You’re made for each other.”
I bumped Benny with my elbow and didn’t look over at Alex. She couldn’t go around saying things like that.
Within twenty minutes, we were at an open field of late September strawberries with a high hot sun above us, a paper bag in each of our hands, watching a flurry of children run around wildly.
“Here’s the deal,” Benny said, eyes alight with mischief. “I’m going to set my stopwatch for five minutes and we’re each going to gather as many strawberries as we can in that time. Whoever has the least at the end has to buy lunch for everyone. Whoever has the most gets to choose the place.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I said.
“Alex?” Benny asked.
“Let’s do this.” He smiled and made a show of cracking his knuckles.
Benny pulled out her phone, set the timer, and then cried, “Ready, set, GO.”
And then we were off, scattering in different directions.
It was muddy from the rain from two days ago and you had to get up and under the bushes to find the fruit, but soon I was on my knees in the dirt, pulling deep red strawberries off bushes and throwing them into the bag, fully immersed in this task of taking Benny down.
The area was picked-through, so I ran to the farther end and on my way there bumped into Benny, who was screeching with laughter and delight, and it was so contagious we did a little spin together until we became strawberry-picking rivals again.
“THREE MINUTES LEFT,” Benny screamed, and even the kids around us stopped to look at her.
Alex was at the front of the crop, now watching us, taller than anyone within his immediate radius, laughing and shaking his head like this was all silly, but also lovely and fun and sort of perfect. He shrugged and got back to work, dipping down.
At a particularly abundant supply, I started pulling strawberries as fast as I could, branches clipping at my hands, sweat starting to pool on my forehead. I was so immersed in picking the berries that I only stopped when Benny clapped me on the shoulder, laughing hard when I screamed.
“Having fun yet?” she asked, grinning, helping me up with an outstretched hand.
“No,” I said, just to mess with her.
“Liar. You were smiling like a kid picking all those strawberries.”
“I just want to beat you.”
“We’ll see about that,” she replied, holding up her haul.
Alex joined us, the top of his cheeks crimson from exertion.
“Okay,” Benny said. “Count it up and don’t say your number until we’re done.” She was like a camp counselor with boundless energy.
We all counted under our breath until Benny told us to reveal our number on three, two, one.
“Eighty-seven!” Alex declared.
“Ninety-two!” Benny squealed.
“Ninety-four!” I shrieked.
“YES,” I screamed, skipping around Benny and celebrating. “VICTORY!”
“Damn it,” Benny said, kicking at the dirt. “I thought I had this in the bag.” She cackled. “Get it?” She held up the paper bag. “Bag?”
Alex and I glanced at each other and rolled our eyes, laughing.
“Alright, Princess Strawberry,” Benny said, looking at me and bowing. “Lunch is on Alex. Where are we going to make him take us?”
“Did we really lose, Benny?” Alex asked, leaning casually on Benny’s shoulder. “Look at Charlie. Watching her do a victory lap was the real win here. Who knew she was so competitive?”
“Me,” Benny said. “She used to clear the board with a swipe of her arm when I was winning in Candy Land. Charlie is such a sore loser.”
Alex gave me a look of resigned respect. “Wait, now I remember. Didn’t you win a spelling bee or something?”
“Excuse me,” I said, tipping my chin up. “I won five .”
Benny and Alex burst out laughing.
“P-S-E-U-D-O-N-Y-M, pseudonym,” I declared like I was on stage. “That won me the regional championship, thank you very much.”
Alex and Benny laughed more as I bowed.
“I know you’re supposed to pick our lunch spot because you’re the winner,” Benny said, as we walked across the fields back toward orange trees and several vegetable patches filled with zucchini, broccoli, and cucumber.
“But I think we should do sushi. There’s a Sugarfish in Calabasas that we have to pass by on our way home. ”
“Oh,” Alex said. “I will happily buy us all Nozawa Trust Me’s from Sugarfish.”
“And we can get gelato,” Benny said, excited. “And look at all the turtles in the ponds.”
“Turtles?” I asked.
“The Commons at Calabasas are so extra,” Benny said. “They have these two man-made ponds where like hundreds of turtles live. It’s so ridiculous and also fun.”
“That has been the theme of the day,” I told her. “Let’s do it.”
We washed off and paid for our haul at the cashier.
When Alex left to use the restroom, Benny sidled up next to me and handed me her phone. On it was a picture of me in the strawberry fields, head tipped back, generous smile on my face.
“Look at this,” she said. “This is you, looking at Alex, celebrating your win.”
“I was victorious,” I said.
“No,” she said. She hit her phone with her fingertip. “Look, Charlie. Look how happy you are. You can’t deny this. You’re beaming.” She pinched the picture and zoomed in on my face. “ This is joy.”
“I just won a free lunch,” I said. “Of course I’m happy.”
“Stop it,” she ordered. “Stop doing that. Stop being sarcastic and cutting. Enough. This is the real you. And you deserve to feel like this every single day, damn it.”
She didn’t even wait for me to answer. She knew what she’d said. When Alex popped out of the restrooms, she pulled him ahead by the arm and they walked off together.
Eating fresh strawberries from the bag, I strolled behind them while mulling over Benny’s words.
I was sweaty and gross; I still had dirt under my fingernails and my knees hurt a little from all the bending down; Alex and Benny were laughing about something I couldn’t hear; and we were about to eat sushi and hang out with turtles apparently and get gelato.
Alex looked back at me, beaming, like he couldn’t have me out of his sight for a moment, and I just smiled and thought, This joy thing may not be so bad .
As much as it killed me to admit it, maybe Benny was just the tiniest bit right.