“Yeah. I think I do.”
“Good. Now, I am just very tired.”
Raymond picked up her keys on his way to the door. Then he stopped. Turned back. Realized what he had forgotten.
He hurried to the table and replaced the chair he had used, carefully aligning it with its tape marks. He replaced Isabel’s chair as best he could, in against the table where Mrs. G would not trip over it. Assuming, of course, that she got up.
Then he let himself out.
He sat in front of his computer composing an email to Isabel.
She had written down her email address as well as her parents’ street address and phone number. Raymond wanted to give her Mrs. G’s phone number. And by emailing her, she would have his email address, too.
Or at least, that was the neat bundle of reasons he had given himself.
As he typed, a greater truth began to emerge.
I’m really worried about her. That was the first thing he wrote.
She went to bed for the night and didn’t even change out of her clothes. She said it was too much trouble, or too much energy. Something like that. I forget her exact words. I know it hit her really hard, what happened to Luis. And I knew it would, so it’s stupid to write all this like I’m surprised or something. I guess I just needed to tell someone that I’m worried.
She even said she’s not sick, but
His computer burst into a weird series of tones, like sudden music, and it made him jump. Literally. He shot straight up into the air a few inches and came down with his heart pounding.
Then he realized it was only Skype. The ringtone you get when someone is Skype-calling you. A little round avatar photo of Andre had popped up onto his screen. He clicked the video call button, even though he would have preferred to finish his email.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Andre said in return.
Andre was smiling widely. Raymond checked his own face in the little inset screen that monitored his end of the call. He was not smiling.
“So, what’s wrong with you, man?” Andre asked.
“Nothing,” Raymond said. “Just a long day. Hard day.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Nah. Not worth it.”
Raymond had found himself suddenly drowning in the feeling that he was not the same person who had been friends with Andre. That he had changed into someone Andre would not understand.
And besides, he thought, we never talked about the really important stuff anyway.
“How’s the new school?” Raymond asked, mostly to change the subject.
“Not sure. It’s only been a few days. The first few days are always the hardest anyway. So what about you? What’s going on? Where you been, man?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“Really? Seems like something is. I’ve opened up my Skype, like, two dozen times to try to call you, but you’re never online. Since when did you get busy? And with what? Or is it a who?”
“I’m not seeing anybody.”
This was one of the deeper and more important things they had never talked about.
“What, then? Why the big mystery?”
“It’s not. It’s just . . .” Then Raymond decided he was being silly. Why would he keep it a secret? If Andre didn’t understand, then he just didn’t. But it was nothing Raymond should be ashamed to say. “You remember that older lady? In the hall on your last day?”
“The crazy one? The ‘Have you seen Luis Valdez’ one?”
“Velez. And she’s not crazy. Not at all. She has a really good mind. She’s just blind, and that’s why you got that weird feeling about where she was looking.”
“Oh. Okay. So she’s not crazy. But she’s, like . . . ninety.”
“Actually she’s ninety-two. But she’s nice. And interesting. And I’ve been learning a lot from her and sort of helping her.”
“Why?”
A silence, during which Raymond studied the video image of his old friend’s face. Andre was not interested in this line of conversation. Raymond could tell. He had that slightly blank look in his eyes, the one he used to get when Raymond had tried to discuss the political or historical books he had been reading.
“Because she’s got nobody else.”
“But you’ll find her somebody. Right?”
“What do you mean ‘find her somebody’？”
“Like you can call some sort of county services thing and get somebody to come out and help her. Right? So then you don’t have to.”
“I don’t mind doing it. I told you. She’s interesting and nice. I like talking to her.”