Paullina Simons: Tully

‘Ahh,’ breathed Tully, her lips suddenly numb. She tried to bite them. Palo Alto ! Palo Alto. My God, my God.

‘Don’t you keep in touch with him?’ Tully asked after long minutes passed. Tully was grateful for the dimness of the Green Parrot.

Shakie laughed. ‘In touch? Nah. He is out there finding himself. People who are finding themselves are always out of touch. So how come you didn’t go to the prom?’ Shakie asked Tully.

Finding himself? Tully thought.

Shakie repeated her question.

Tully shrugged. ‘Didn’t feel like it.’

‘Didn’t feel like going to your own Senior Prom? Wow!’ exclaimed Shakie. ‘We had a bitchin’ time. Bitchin’. Jack and I were King and Queen.’

Oh, I’m sure, thought Tully. I’m so sure you were, Shakie Lamber, cheerleader and Homecoming Queen.

Shakie took a sip of her Miller Lite. ‘I’ll tell you something, Tully, because you’re a friend. I was pretty crazy about that Jack.’

‘No kidding,’ said Tully weakly.

Shakie smiled. ‘Well, he certainly had some craze-inducing parts to him, yes, I can tell you that right now.’ She ordered another drink. ‘But he is gone. I think it was just this high school thing between us. But! I keep hoping, nothing wrong with that, right? Oh, I’m not just sitting on my behind, though, Tully. I’m going to beauty school. The Topeka School of Cosmetology. I want to work at Macy’s. In the fine makeup department. Chanel or something like that.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ said Tully. She finished her beer in two gulps. ‘Listen, it’s kind of late. I gotta get to sleep. Let’s go.’

Tully and Robin were invited to Shakie’s for Thanksgiving, 1979. Robin didn’t go; he was spending the holiday with his brothers.

Tully went alone and met Shakie’s three brothers, her huge six-foot-six lumberjack of a dad, and her five-foot-nothing mom, who got all the male Lambers to help her with dinner by screaming at them at the top of her lungs, while Shakie sat with Tully in the living room.

‘I’m the youngest and the only girl,’ Shakie explained. ‘I never have to do anything.’

‘Martha! Dinner!’ yelled Shakie’s mom.

‘Martha? Who’s Martha?’ asked Tully.

Shakie laughed uncomfortably. ‘Oh, that’s me,’ she said. ‘Martha Louise Lamber.’ And when they got to the dinner table, Shakie whispered fiercely to her mother, ‘Shakie, Ma, Shakie !’

A few days later in Tully’s trailer, Robin asked, ‘So, is Shakie a replacement friend?’

‘Replacement for who?’ snapped Tully.

Robin looked away. ‘For Julie,’ he said. ‘Maybe for me.’

‘Certainly not for you, Robin,’ Tully answered. ‘But Julie is far away. I can’t help it if Shakie likes me. We’re not that close, though.’

‘You’re not that close with anyone,’ said Robin.

‘No,’ said Tully, ‘1 guess I’m not. Still, though, what a brave thing to say to me, Robin DeMarco.’

‘Do you like Shakie?’ Robin asked.

‘What’s not to like?’ said Tully. ‘And as if I have other options. What would you like, Robin, for me not to be friends with anyone but you?’

Robin sighed and made room for her in the bed, pulling the quilt over both of them. ‘As if what I wanted really mattered, Tully,’ he said.

‘Jack is back!’ said Shakie happily as the girls started their Saturday night shift.

It was nearing Christmas.

‘He is, is he?’ said Tully. ‘Why?’

‘Oh,’ said Shakie, brushing her hair in the middle of the restaurant, ‘His dad died. So he’s back! Sounds like a song, doesn’t it? “I’ve been waiting to happen/till Jack comes back!/Now, Jack is back/and I’m ready to happen/Jack is back/and it’s straight in the sack!”’ She sang and danced and flung her blond mane all around the empty tables.

Tully watched her and then laughed. ‘Shakie, you are so full of shit.’

‘He really is back, Tully,’ Shakie said seriously.

‘No, that’s not it. What about all that bullshit that it was just a high school thing?’

Shakie shrugged and smiled. ‘You’re right. It was bullshit.’

‘Besides, his father died, how can you be so happy?’ said Tully.

‘Well, he’s gonna need a lot of cheering up, ain’t he?’ replied Shakie, gleaming. ‘And I mean a lot of cheering up!’ She giggled and jumped up in the air.

Tully laughed despite herself.

She saw him a few days later when he came to pick up Shakie. Shakie’s station was full, so Sylvia sat him down at one of Tully’s empty tables. Tully came up to him, real calm, real cool. ‘What can I get you?’ she asked. He looked the same as ever. Better. Sun-drenched, blond, and hard. But Tully’s eyes were all fogged up like wet glasses.

‘How are you?’ he asked Tully.

‘Oh, all right, getting along, couldn’t be better.’ She tried not to blink and not look at him, either, while her heart gripped and ripped her.

‘What can I get you?’ she repeated, her voice cold.

He reached out and touched her fingers, lightly. ‘I’m sorry, Tully,’ he said. ‘I am. So sorry.’

He said that at graduation, too. Sought her out – cornered her, almost – and said, ‘I’m sorry, Tully. I’m so sorry.’ Now, as then, his serious, intent face made her speechless.

‘Oooohhh, Jackie!’ squealed Shakie, throwing herself and her hair all over Jack, kissing him and giggling. Jack rubbed Shakie’s back. ‘All right, all right, what’s gotten into you?’ he said.

Tully left them and finished her tables, married some ketchups, and filled some saltshakers and sugar bowls. She kept her eyes on her unsteady hands.

‘Tully, do you need a ride?’ he asked her on his way out.

God! I wish he didn’t know my name, she thought.

‘You must be joking!’ said Shakie before Tully could answer. ‘She’s got the most brilliant car. A 1978 blue Camaro. She should be asking you if you need a ride.’ Jack stared at Tully so hard and so sad that she wanted to smash his face in. Smash his face in or break down right in front of him and his girl.

A week later, Shakie walked over to Tully’s trailer after work. She entered, sat down, and burst into tears.

Tully rolled her eyes. Walking over slowly, she sat carefully on the corner of the sofa. She wanted to put her arm around Shakie but just couldn’t do it.

‘What’s the matter. Shake? He leave?’

Shakie nodded, crying. ‘Going to.’

Tully rubbed her hands together. Clenched her fists, unclenched them.

‘I thought he’d be staying, I thought maybe he would stay,’ Shakie was muttering. ‘But no, he had to go, he said, had to go back. Didn’t want to be back here anymore, he said.’ She continued to cry, and Tully continued to sit there and say nothing. They sat for a long time, until it got too much for Tully, just too fucking much , and she said, ‘Shakie, I’m really sorry, because I like you and wish I could be a better friend to you now that you need someone, but I can’t make you feel better about this. Do you understand?’

Shakie wiped her eyes and looked at Tully.

‘Shakie,’ continued Tully, cracking her knuckles, ‘I will cover your ass for Sylvia, and I will clean your tables, and I will drive you home. I will help you with anything else, but I cannot help you with this. I just can’t, please understand. I just can’t help you.’

Shakie stared at her.

‘Powerless!’ exclaimed Tully. ‘Yes, powerless, and helpless. And I cannot stand to see you cry over this!’ she screamed suddenly and stood up. Tully’s face was a mask of pain and Shakie just sat on the bed, astonished. Tully pressed her clenched fists to her eyes and whispered, ‘I cannot stand to see you cry over him. ’