The Cost of Tea in China

Banana Splits

In the summer, zillions of butterflies were always in my Nana’s garden. Butterflies were probably my favorite thing about summer, besides ice cream and maybe squirt guns. Her sunflowers were giant; they reached up to touch the sky. Sometimes I would see a bunny under the fence. Once, I saw one with brown spots and I named it Peter Cottontail. I loved bunnies, I had always wanted one but my mom always said no. My Nana, though, told me that if I could catch one, I could keep him! It seemed easy enough.
My Nana’s house was big and open. Everything inside was fancy, the swirly carvings on the chair legs and the brightly wrapped candy in crystal dishes. Whenever I asked for a piece, Nana always gave it to me because she knew that I didn’t want to spoil my dinner, I just really wanted some candy. She had my artwork taped up everywhere, pink teddy bears and starry purple skies that I created for her; I only gave her my best pictures. She always had a new stuffed animal waiting for me, with a ribbon around its neck, and she always let me play house with her sweet faced porcelain dolls. It was never time for bed in my Nana’s house.
I was with my Nana every day. I had no dad and my mom worked all the time. I used to get confused about whether or not Nana was really my mom until one day when my mom was yelling at me and I ran to my Nana and she screamed “Get back over here! I’m your mother and you will look at me when I’m talking to you!” And that’s when I knew for sure. But it didn’t matter because I still loved my Nana more than anything in the whole wide world. And I wanted to stay the night at her house as often as I could. I even had my own bedroom there, and my own clothes and toys and things.
At one sleepover, I was lying on my bed, feet dangling over the edge, concentrating on tracing the lines on my hand with my thumb. I pulled one of my legs up on the bed and started twirling my hair. Then I shifted and pulled up the other leg instead before I finally blurted out “Do you have stuff to make a banana split? I’ve always wanted one, but I’ve never had one. Can I try one?” I immediately bit my lip and went back to twirling my hair.
“At this late hour, honey?” my Nana put her hand on her hip, not firmly though, just gently.
“Well,” I said as I sat up straight, “yeah.”
She thought about it for a minute, but she gave in with a shrug and said, “Sure, it won’t hurt anything, right?”
“Right!” I jumped down and followed her into the kitchen.
The cold tried to escape from the freezer as my Nana pulled out the smooth, creamy vanilla ice cream and slammed the door shut. She scooped it into my 101 Dalmatians bowl, then peeled a ripe banana and placed it between the scoops, perfectly, like she had been doing it all her life. Then she poured thick chocolate syrup all over it. I was allowed to take it back to the room with me as long as I didn’t spill. I had barely sat down before I dug in with my Batman spoon but then I realized that I actually just wanted the ice cream and I didn’t really like bananas. When I told my Nana she wasn’t angry, she just laughed and took the banana out and ate it herself. I made sure to scrape all the ice cream off it first though; I didn’t want to have to give up any of the good stuff.
I did not feel sleepy at all so I asked Nana to turn on the TV.
“My mom doesn’t let me watch the Simpsons at home can we watch it now?” I crossed my fingers under my blanket.
“Well, why doesn’t she let you watch it?” my Nana rose an eyebrow.
“I don’t know because I’ve never seen it!” I threw my arms up dramatically.
She smiled and flipped to that channel. After a while I really wanted some orange pop or some bubble gum and I really wasn’t paying attention to the show anymore so I asked her if we could do a puzzle instead. Puzzles were a lot harder then I remembered though, because after only finishing Mickey Mouse’s head I was ready for glow-in-the-dark Legos. I did not want to go to bed even after I finished building a castle, even though I was struggling to keep my eyes open. But my Nana insisted and my eyes gave in so I had to get into bed.
That was another great thing about my Nana; she understood about the darkness. How it was filled with horrible things and that I wasn’t safe without her there. So she would just sit by my bed in a chair until I was good and asleep. I knew because I wouldn’t even hear her go, but in the morning she would be gone. I would hear her in the kitchen, already making me eggs and bacon and waffles with syrup, all the things I had specially asked for the day before.

One day at school, as the leaves were drifting down outside the window, Joshua Lander stole my favorite beanie baby Speedy, a green sea turtle, who I had brought in for show and tell. He threw Speedy across the room, but the teacher didn’t see and when I told on him, the teacher just told me not to be a tattle tale, so I hit Josh. But then I had to go home early and so my Nana came to pick me up and when we arrived back at the house I started to cry.
“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay. Everything will be alright,” she put her arm around me to comfort me, but I knew better.
“No it won’t!” I cried. “Josh threw him and he was my favorite so I had to go get him and now look! He’s all broken!” Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I held out the proof to her. Speedy even looked upset, he had been messed up from Josh throwing him. I hugged speedy tightly.
“And I tried to fix him on the whole way back and I can’t and he’ll never ever be the same ever again!” I kept my head down and couldn’t bring my eyes up to hers. I started to tremble and had to sit down; I was faint from the strain.
“Here, let me see Speedy, honey.” She couldn’t help but grin as she carefully took Speedy from me and worked pure magic, I swear it. With her fingernails, she worked the beads back into their places. I immediately stopped crying; she had saved Speedy. I couldn’t believe it.

One morning, my mom dropped me off at my Nana’s house, like usual. I was trying to catch a snowflake on the way in but they were avoiding my tongue. When I got to the door, Nana wasn’t there to greet me. I pushed it open to find my cousin Carol inside. She was one of Nana’s daughters.
“Trellis is in the hospital, she’s sick,” Carol explained.
My backpack slipped out of my hands and hit the floor. “Will she be okay?”
“She should be back soon. I’ll be staying here to take care of you.”
“So she’s gonna be okay, right?” I gripped the back of a nearby chair.
“That’s what I said, didn’t I? Now stop messing around and go get ready for school.”
Carol hated me. She was always mean to me and I just didn’t understand why. She did not treat me like my Nana did. I made myself breakfast that morning. I tried to pour the milk for my cereal very carefully but I still spilt it all over the counter. I had to clean it up before Carol saw. I quietly slipped out and walked to school for the first time, Carol said it was too close to drive me there. “A senseless waste of gas,” she said.
After school, I found a note on the kitchen counter from Carol: “Out. Back later.” was all it said. It was so empty without my Nana there; I couldn’t wait for her to come back.

My Nana was different when she finally came back from the hospital. She stopped making me my favorite caramel fudge brownies and she stopped reading me Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher at night. We stopped playing Uno while we ate her home made strawberry pie at the kitchen table. I couldn’t understand; she looked the same; she looked fine. But she just sat and stared out the window. Hands crossed on her lap, gazing out at the snow. When I’d come into the kitchen for breakfast, she’d ask me “What’s the day?”
“Tuesday,” I’d say, not looking up from pouring my milk.
“Carol, I said ‘What’s the time?’ ” she would say looking over at me.
“I’m Alexis,” I’d manage to get out while swallowing my tears.
“I know. Do you want me to make you some breakfast?”
“No thanks, Nana,” I responded as I cleaned up some Cheerios, “I just made cereal.” I wanted to say “Yes! Please!”, but I knew she couldn’t make it anyway, even if she wanted to.
“Do you need a ride home?”
“No, Nana, I’m on my way to school.” I tried to focus on eating.
“Oh, right,” she’d say as she resumed watching the snow. “What day is it, sweetie?”
“Tuesday,” I’d say before I dumped out the rest of my cereal and quickly left room.

When Carol wasn’t home, I would be left alone with my Nana. I mostly stayed in my bedroom though. It hurt to have to see her like she was, and I wanted to go sit with her, and see her peppered hair and her silk blouses, but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the room. I wanted to hold onto the hand of that Nana I used to have, but she was suddenly like a whole different person to me, and it was scary.
I tried to be productive with my time alone, so I took out my favorite blue crayon and some paper and began drawing a lake. I made it perfectly round and huge and almost right up to the edges of the paper. Then I would hear her.
“Betty? Betty?” she called, “Where are you?”
I cringed and focused on my lake. I started to fill it in. I did not want to have to go to her. It wasn’t fair that I had to be the one to go to her, to explain. I hoped that after a few minutes she would just forget that she was calling out. There were a long few seconds of silence before a more panicked, “Betty!? Hello?! Where are you?!?” I took a deep breath and got up slowly. I turned the heavy doorknob and went out to her. The grandfather clock was ticking loudly.
“Nana—”
“Where’s my Betty?” her eyes were wide and her was hair messy. The clock got frighteningly louder.
“Nana, Betty went away a long time ago.” I shifted my weight uncomfortably. It was still snowing out. It covered everything; I thought it would never stop.
Then she just looked at me. I couldn’t hear anything except the ticking. She started to cry. It was the fifth time that day. My Nana started to cry and I couldn’t even bring myself to comfort her. I put my hand on hers and told her it was okay. But really I wanted to run back to my room and escape the ticking and work on that lake. After a reassuring, “Well, okay then, I’ll be in my room okay?” I’d be shaking as I went and I’d leave her again, I’d leave her all alone. I didn’t know what to do; she had always been the one who knew what to do.
Back in my room, I stared out the window, wondering how many snowflakes were out there, a zillion probably. It had been snowing for years and I didn’t think it would ever end. I thought it would just keep on snowing forever, never changing, just always winter.
There used to be beautiful dandelions out there that I could pick and bring in and Nana would put them in a little vase. But now the garden was just tons of snow. I didn’t think that flowers could ever grow there again. I wasn’t even sure if there was still dirt under all that snow. But I could never go out there and check either way. I was afraid to lose my toes and fingers. My friend Lindsey Jenkins had told me all about it, if you are out in the cold to long your toes and fingers turn black and fall off. I couldn’t risk it.
Nana’s stone animals used to look as if they were alive and breathing and belonged in the garden. Now they looked as if they were under some kind of spell, their eyes were all glossy from the frost, like they might attack me if I got too close.
I stopped going to my Nana’s every day.

My mom was finishing putting up ornaments on the Christmas tree as I came up the stairs. I had been working on a special surprise for my Nana; I was making her a Christmas tree. I was so excited; I knew she’d love it. I thought it was possibly one of my greatest works of art ever. I had taken a paper towel roll and glued on a green construction paper top so it was a pine tree. Then I covered it with glitter for the ornaments. I worked on it for days before I finally finished. And I really wanted her to have it right then, while it was still fresh; I didn’t want to have to wait until Christmas day to give it to her. I hadn’t seen her in ages, and I wondered if she would still recognize me with my new haircut.
I shoved my boots on and struggled into my huge winter coat, ready to go in the blink of an eye. But then the phone rang. I hated when it rang right before we were about to leave the house because that always meant that I had to sit and wait for my mom to gossip to her friends for hours and then I’d get really hot since I already had all my winter clothes on.
My mom wasn’t gone that long though, and after only a minute I heard her put the phone down with a click.
“Honey, can you come here for a minute?” she called form her bedroom.
I shuffled in and sat on the bed, starting to overheat. “Can’t we go yet?” I pointed to the sparkling tree in my hand.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but you,” she sat down beside me, “we can’t go visit your Nana.”
“Why not?” I asked angrily. “I’m all ready!” I protested as I started to get off the bed.
My mom pulled me back down onto her lap. “Please listen,” she took off my hat and smoothed down my hair, “your Nana, she,” my mom paused and looked me in the eyes, “I’m afraid we can’t visit your Nana because she is gone.”
“Well, where did she go?” I was confused. I thought Nana never left the house anymore.
My mom shifted me in her arms “Remember when you had that turtle, Fred?”
“Yeah, I loved him so much but then he—”
“Well, Nana has gone just like Fred had to go. It was just their time in life, and now they are in a much happier, better place.” My mom must have felt me beginning to slip off her lap, felt my heart race. “I know it’s hard to understand but it’s nothing bad. It happens to everyone and we can’t change that,” she rushed as she held me tighter. “We may not be able to see her anymore but we can still talk to her, she can hear your prayers now, too.”
All I knew was that my Nana would never get my tree or see the all the glitter on it. I knew that she was gone. I knew that I’d never get to see her again. I knew that I’d never have to see her again.

Before the funeral, while everyone was milling around through my Nana’s house, I didn’t want to sit still. So instead, I slipped away into her bedroom. Absolutely everything smelt of her. I found my favorite pieces of her bright, gaudy jewelry and started playing dress up like we used to do together, before she was gone. No, before she was sick.
I opened her dresser drawer and took out that beautiful blue bottle of An Evening in Paris. I knew right where she kept it. I applied it to my arms and legs and neck and hair. It smelt so good.
When Carol walked in and found me, she grabbed my arm and yelled, “What the hell are you doing?” She dragged me out of the room, telling me to behave myself.
I didn’t want to be with her, I didn’t want her to touch me. I shrugged my arm free, “I hate you.” I whispered as tears started to swell up in my eyes.
Then I stood in the kitchen, perfectly still, and waited until we left for the service, tugging at my dress because it really itched. Now I would never get to put together another puzzle with Nana or build a Lego castle. But we had stopped doing that a long time ago anyway.

While the pastor was talking about things I never knew about my Nana, I was wishing I could be outside playing instead, it looked nice out. Everyone around me was sniffling and nodding.
When I got up to the casket, and I looked down at her face, sleeping, eyes closed. I twitched a little, I had always thought that one day she would just be all better and everything would go back to how it used to be. I couldn’t put the rose in the casket, my arm felt too heavy. I wish I had had more time to do puzzles with her. But she was always so sick, and I only wanted her to get better. I was only waiting for her to get better. The happy, colorful flower arrangements around the room were blurring, the bright candles melting together. But she never did and now it’s too late. I’ll never be with her again. The small stair I was standing on began to tip. Was this my fault? I should have talked to her more. What if all she wanted was for me to talk to her? I was losing my balance. I couldn’t find my breath. I was the only one ever there, all she had. What if I could have helped her get better? My head felt light and dizzy like I would fall forever. I didn’t save her. I wasn’t there for her. It was my fault.
I collapsed into my mom’s arms as she carried me outside; I was wracked with sobs. My body was screaming to just get outside and breathe, to see the puffy white clouds and smell the fresh cut grass.
The cold hit me immediately and that’s when I remembered. I didn’t want to be outside. There was snow everywhere, all around the ground, falling from the sky, covering us, covering me. I did not want to be inside either, though. Maybe I would never really want to be in one place ever again. My mom held me against her while I calmed down, but I could barely feel her. I watched my breath turn white in the air. My mom offered me a candy she had in her purse just for me, but I didn’t want it, even though it was blue raspberry flavor. All I wanted was a banana split, but I knew I could never eat one ever again.

~Winter 2008

Monday, November 23, 2009

Mother

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Cemetery

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Story of A Girl and Her Cat

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Banana Splits

Cancer

Childhood

The Cost of Tea in China

The Fabulous Things In Life

The Rain-Soaked Streets of London

The Works [with a Cherry on Top]