Korê in New York

What happens when a kid refuses to leave the past behind? What happens when the past won't go away? Read on and don't worry about the emotional damage.

1. Pictures and Secrets

   Friday, I came home to find something new on the refridgerator door. It was a huge posterboard composite of all four of us kids. We were all there: Ivanna with her Capezios draped over her shoulders and wearing a lyotard like a shirt and confidence all over her brave face which was a mirror of her mother’s brave face, Nervy Worm in a clean shirt standing at the South Street Seaport on a “cultural tour.” Her feet were probably tired and Mom probably yelled at her several times to get that shot. I was there too, in my rainbow stocking cap and coat like Piper’s. Piper did not know how appealing he was. Even if he could not be my boyfriend, at least he could be my mentor. I did not care if at times he harshed the adult world. At times the adult world needed to be harshed. And then there was Kyril. I hardly recognized him. He wore a Little League shirt I hadn’t seen before. He stood in a gym somewhere in Herkimer County looking strong, despite the fact that somehow he was more wounded like any of us and thus more dangerous.

   I felt my eyes ache and a lump form in my throat. I guess I can be quite sentimental when it comes to family. I was crying before I could stop myself. RoAnn who was watching Dad cut up the celery feathers left from the Waldorf salad adventure shook her head. I found my way to a chair. I wanted to howl, and was going to have a good cry no matter what emotion policeman decided to stop me.

   When I was finally able to speak I asked whose idea the pictures were. I loved those pictures. They were the best thing I had seen in a long time. “My idea,” RoAnn answered. “You’ve been taking this very hard,” was all she said. She was used to people not having her brave mask that was permanently glued to her face. She did not tell me to wash away the tears.

   I ended up peeling and cutting up carrots. Dad was making red potato and mixed vegetable salad. It was going to be better than the deli salads at Fairway which Nervy did not like all that much. He had asked Nervy for her favorite dressing, and it was “ranch sauce.” That was not hard to buy or make. We could blanch carrots and cut up the celery leaves so their bitterness would taste good with potatoes, and the potates were lovely red skinned ones that were all  smooth on the outside and firm on the inside.

   “Low carb potato salad with lots of vegetables,” sing-songed a skeptical RoAnn.

   Dad offered to make her some absolutely plain potatoes with low fat mayonaise. RoAnn made a face. He offered her salt potatoes with or without the salt. RoAnn still made a face. She wanted ice cream and cake. She ate chicken sandwiches or white pizza because you have to eat real food sometimes. She wanted coffee or better yet latte style coffee from the coffee shop and occasionally Italian pastry even though it reminded her of Ivanna. Maybe my stepmother did not wear such a brave mask after all or maybe she had to take it off to eat.

   “I’ve been thinking,” RoAnn explained. “This family needs a lot of work no matter how everything comes out in Ithaca. I don’t know where to begin. Sammy knows the food, but….I don’t think he knows about siblings. You don’t even really know yourself.”

   “I know,” I pointed to the picture.

   “Well maybe now you do, but you need them.”

   I thought of Kyril and I on the bus to New York. I thought of eating pea soup while Kyril starved or fasted. Fasted really was the better word. We never fought on the bus. We did fight in the apartment though, right out in the living room.

   Kyril slugged me. He gave me a fat lip and a shiner. He did it in front of RoAnn and Dad. I remember RoAnn gasping. She had never seen this kind of fighting among any of her seven siblings. After the fight, I made trips to New York alone. It was the spring of fifth grade. When Mom got to New York she took all of us for family counseling. A fight in front of RoAnn was a minor embarassment, but she couldn’t have her new employer know what went on among her two oldest children.

   “I need all of them, but two are gone.” I tallied up the score.

   “I talk with Ivanna every night and you email her,” answered RoAnn.

   “Yes, but Kyril.”

   “Kyril has issues,” Dad said closing the conversation because some things have to stay closed.

   “He’s still my brother. I was too little to be a really good big sister. I was learning about stuff too.”

   No one replied. “And then Nervy won’t be here in the fall.”

   “Yes, I will,” Nervy answered.

   “Come on,” RoAnn hissed. I knew I was in for a private lecture in the study. I was going to tell RoAnn I was sick of keeping stupid secrets that weren’t really secrets any more.

   RoAnn closed the study/office door. “Minerva is going to be staying with us this fall,” RoAnn stated.

   “No she isn’t. Mom….”

   “Listen to me, Kore. Your mother no longer has a permanent home. She’s like a warrior or like I was before I had Ivanna. Her work takes her everywhere. She can’t make a permanent home that a small child needs.”

   “Yeah but she’s not goign to let Dad have…”

   “Yes she is. Dad and she have all ready discussed it. They are civilized enough not to need lawyers for this. If Georgia settles down again, then it’s joint custody and Minerva can decide where she goes. She’ll continue at the school we set up for her either way.”

   I stared at the foor. “It’s not fair!” I wanted to say. “Mothers aren’t supposed to give up that easy,” I found the words.

   “These are not ordinary times,” RoAnn’s voice was level. “Look what all of us are doing.”

   “Everyone except Dad.”

   “He provides the funding so we can stay here and do the work that we do.”

   “You got it all figured out!” I snarled.

   “How would you have it?” asked RoAnn.

   I said nothing. I just imagined Newark or LaGuardia airport and Nervy being put aboard a plane like a package with her name and address pinned to her along with a stewardess to handle her tickets and papers, Nervy being shipped to Mom who had rights to her because she was just a package. I blinked back tears. I had seen the inevitable so many times in my imagination it hurt but Mom just doing nothing and letting Nervy stay was somehow worse.

   “Nervy didn’t break up Mom and Dad’s marriage,” I fumbled for an explanation of why abandoning Nervy was wrong. “It wasn’t her fault. She just got conceived. Mom tried to go back to Dad one last time and Dad’s sperm beat out Barry’s sperm. It was dumb luck.”

   “Your dad slipped and I forgave him,” was RoAnn’s version of the story. “Barry should have been more understanding. I’m glad he did not abandon his own child. Do you think your mother really blames Minerva for getting between her and Barry.”

   “No, because Barry hated girls,” I said with a laugh. “I mean he liked Mom, but he wasn’t thrilled she was pregnant and he didn’t really like me, not that the feeling wasn’t mutual. You were different,” I added.

   “Fine then Nervy was innocent wasn’t she?” RoAnn wanted me to get to a healthy conclusion. I thought of red potatoes boiling on the stove.

   “Barry was a putz,” I answered.

   “OK, your Dad needs you but I have one more thing for you. I talked with your dad about this. He’s more liberal than I am because I grew up in a small town and know how important a regular life can be. You and Nervy need to go to church.”

   “We’re Jewish!” I protested.

   “I mean synagogue.”

   “I don’t make it back here early enough on Fridays.”

   “Then Saturday morning. We’ll adjust the schedule.”

   “When do I start?” I asked.

   “This weekend.”

   “Thanks,” I said. I was shaking. I have no brave face, but I did not cut myself cutting up carrots and I watched the steam rise off the blanching kettle. I needed to learn to cook because Dad might not always be working for ECBAS and I’d be an adult some day. An adult looks after the children or an adult goes out to fight bigger battles. Either way, I had a lot to learn.

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