I think I can be a good student. I think I can be good. I did great on my science test the other day. It’s because we have been learning about rocks, so it’s easy for me. I’ve also have been better about not hiding out in the bathroom stall during class, which means I get to sit next to Dylan Beaman some more.
When Mr. B finally got to my mom, he used his arms a bunch while talking. His smile was only a little bit there. Maybe he was talking about doing more group projects, or everybody needing a longer recess. Maybe they were just talking about the weather like most other grown-ups do. Truth is, I’m so bad at reading lips. I mostly just wanted to know whether or not Mr. B told Mom that I sometimes change my name on my school papers. I kind of hope that he did say something because I’m not so sure how to bring it up to her. Maybe he would be able to explain it in a better way than I could. I also kind of hope that he didn’t tell her. I bet Mom thought hard about what name to give me, and she’s already mad about my Picture Day pictures.
She told me this morning that the name Ellie means “beautiful” in some other language. Sometimes when people call me Ellie, I feel like a ghost. I feel like they don’t see me at all. It’s kind of hard to explain. It gets harder to explain every year.
I do wonder how Mr. B always knows that all those homework pages are from me. I change the name so often, but he never marks me as incomplete. Luckily, I narrowed it down to a few names, so I bet that helps, Charlie, Sawyer, Logan, and Sean, and Paul and Max and Kye, Aaron, Alex, and Alison and Lila. Even Ilona and Tanya are nice names too. Or maybe even MJ or just a C, not sure what those letters would stand for, but I think that they sound cool. I guess that’s more than a few. I guess I got a lot more work to do. It’s just a lot on top of schoolwork, I think. Sometimes I have trouble filling out tests when the name part feels like a test too. The name blank is always on the tippy-top of every page. It’s bad. When I write letters, I love that you have to read all of my thoughts and stories before I say any name at all. You have to make it to the very end to know.
I just really hope that Mom walked away from the gym still thinking I am good and the teacher won’t ever mark me as incomplete. To be honest with you, I really wanted Mom to pat my back the same way Nathan Lucas’s dad did for him. Instead, we walked out of the school and drove past so many pine trees and streetlights in silence. It’s not weird for me not to say anything, but it’s definitely weird for her. The radio wasn’t even on. Maybe this is strange to say, but I imagined myself outside running alongside the car. That version of me is much faster at running than I am in real life.
I came back to my body all of a sudden when my mom said, “Mr. B seems like a nice man.” I wish she had said more. There was another long silence that lasted until we pulled into Freedom Valu’s gas station, the one next to Portage Bridge and the Houghton welcome sign. It was time for her to get the usual skim milk and bingo cards. The wind threw the car door shut. Mom locked it with me inside facing that yellow WE LOVE SERVING YOU THE VERY BEST sign. I thought about checking the Houghton welcome sign for any letters, but instead I decided to fill in a page from that coloring book Mom gave me. I was hoping that Mom would tell me “I love it” when it was all done, and then that would mean that she loves me.
The first page I opened to had a picture of a horse with a saddle and reins. I imagined the horse was secretly a unicorn, so I left the fur white and made the mane purple. The leaves in the background took longer to color than anything. I wanted to make them like fall time with a mix of yellow and orange colored pencil. I didn’t get to color in the fence because Mom was already walking back with her plastic shopping bag. I ripped out the page, wrote the name Ellie as big as I could on the bottom, and slid it between the front seats. I only had six seconds left to brush my hair with my fingers.
She plopped into her seat and slammed the door shut, maybe louder than she meant to. From the backseat, I could see Mom’s red polished nails pick up the secret unicorn. She put it down right where I had left it and started the engine. I know that she just looked at it for only three seconds, but I hope it made her happy.
Hope to hear from you or anybody, really.
Sincerely,
Ellie
PS, If you and I really were friends, maybe you could invite me to your birthday party? I would be really good and also do my best to make sure you have fun. I would show you my new hat from Dad’s store and we could talk about deer season starting or ice skating. I don’t know, it’s just something to think about.
Sincerely again,
Ellie Beck
Tuesday, November 4, 1997
To Whom It May Concern:
I don’t know who even writes a letter that starts like that, but in school we have been learning how to write business complaints and letters to people we don’t know. This isn’t a complaint, but I decided to skip chocolate milk again this week just so I have enough money to write more than one balloon letter.
Sofie, Richard, and I finally painted their car white after school today. Sofie really is going to arrive to the big winter concert in a white horse carriage, just like Selena did. To make it, we did some sanding and then covered all the car lights and windows with thick tape so they didn’t get messed up. We had to wear gloves and junk shirts too. My favorite part was getting to listen to a radio station that played fast music that I never get to listen to with my parents.
After that, Mrs. Gavia let me stay for their whitefish dinner. She’s a nice lady, also from Detroit. But there’s a bad rumor at school that Sofie’s family aren’t true Yoopers because they weren’t born in the Upper Peninsula. I don’t know what to believe, but I will say that Mrs. Gavia knows how to clean a fish real good. I also got to meet Sofie’s baby sister for the first time ever too. Her name is Viivi. She was actually born here in Houghton, so I guess those mad people can at least call her a true Yooper. She has black curly hair, the world’s tiniest Big Bird overalls, and we made lots of eye contact since she doesn’t know any real words yet. I have to admit, she’s very cute. I kind of wish I had a brother or sister now too, so we could do things and remember things together.
Anyways, we just chilled after that. The whole family played Uno and ate raspberry coffee cake while the cat, Dusty, slept on the floor. Sofie’s dad had a hard time, though, because he’s actually color blind, but he still got second place. Sofie’s house is so cool. It’s not like mine at all. She’s got a carpet and polka-dotted wallpaper in the basement, an ocean-themed bathroom without a weight scale, and a pretty painting of tree roots and branches that hangs on the front porch. I got to stay all the way until it was time for Sofie’s singing lesson. She and her dad practice singing “Do-Re-Mi” over and over again at the top of their lungs. He wants to get her ready in time for the winter concert. Hold on, I’ll be right back.
Sorry about that. I was just thinking about asking my parents to turn down the TV, but then I changed my mind. The last time I went downstairs to ask Dad to turn the volume down, it only got turned up to teach me a lesson. Sometimes I don’t really understand what he’s trying to teach me. To be honest, it’s almost impossible to think with how loud the TV is sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I like my shows and all. But Mom and Dad are actually in love with that TV, especially when the Patriots are losing or it’s telling the weather that will be wrong anyways. They also really like these cop shows where people shout a lot and they take away girls with skirts and blurry faces. It’s weird.