Free Hurt Go Happy by Ginny Rorby Page B

mother didn’t move and Joey forced herself not to look up until her mother came and sat on the edge of the bed. “What was in your jacket?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œWas it a picture?”
    Joey wondered how she knew some of the things she knew. “Yes,” she answered.
    â€œMay I see it?”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œIs it of the chimpanzee?”
    â€œYes.”
    Her mother shrugged. “I just want to see it.”
    â€œShe’s not an it. Her name’s Sukari.”
    â€œâ€˜It’ referred to the picture, not the monk … the ape.”
    â€œYou won’t tear it up or anything?”
    â€œWhy would I do that?”
    Joey shrugged, then reached into the drawer in her nightstand, took the picture out from between two folded sheets of notebook paper, and handed it to her mother.
    â€œIt lives in the house?”
    Joey nodded, afraid to say anything.
    â€œShe’s cute.” Ruth handed back the picture. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
    â€œDid you?” Joey tried to smile.
    Her mother gave a short snort of a laugh. “Sometimes I forget you can’t hear me.”
    â€œI still hear your phantom voice, you know, but the tone never changes.”
    â€œDo you understand why I don’t want you going over to that man’s house?”
    â€œNot really. I told you he’s old and really nice.”
    â€œJoey, you don’t have the experience to judge people. Look at Roxy.”
    â€œShe didn’t know that you didn’t want me signing.”
    â€œShe’s trash, Joey.”
    â€œShe’s my friend.”
    â€œI don’t want to hear anything more about her or this old man and his monkey. Is that clear?”
    â€œTotally.” Joey had listened to all of this she could stand. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. The room fell silent. But the longer she waited, the worse the knot in her stomach got. When the pressure in her ears suddenly changed, she knew her mother had opened the door, but she waited until the shock wave of the door slamming passed through the wall and her headboard to her back before she relaxed and opened her eyes.
    As soon as they left for the movie, Joey went and got the phone directory. She dialed Charlie’s number, then started to count aloud to ten so that if he picked up, he’d hear her voice. But before she reached ten, she felt the sting of tears. “Charlie, this is Joey Willis,” she said, regaining control. “My mom says I can’t come over anymore. She says Sukari might be dangerous, but that’s not the real reason. I’m not sure what it is but it’s not Sukari. I showed her the picture. She’s so little in the picture. Charlie, please come talk to my mother. No one understands me like you do. I’ve never had anyone to talk to before.” She paused for a second, trying to think of what else to say. “I had a nice time today.”
    *   *   *
    Sunday morning came and went with no word from Charlie. By midday Joey was sure he hadn’t gotten her message, that she’d talked over a phone ringing in an empty house.
    To pass the time, she straightened things, made the stack of magazines on the coffee table neater, and collected the newspapers from the last few days, folded them, and put them with the kindling. She used the little dustpan to sweep up around the woodstove. Her mother thanked her, but suspiciously, since it was not Joey’s habit to keep house.
    Eventually, she took a seat on the sofa opposite Ray’s chair and stared up the driveway. Under her breath, she hummed a mantra— please come —over and over, rocking a little to the beat.
    Ray was watching football. During a commercial he glanced at her and smiled. Twice he’d gone to the kitchen for a beer, stopping to massage her mother’s shoulders as she cooked Sunday dinner. While the commercial lasted,