Girl at War: A Novel




For the first two years I was away at college, my family had left my room alone. Now, slowly, others’ unwanted belongings were finding their way in—photo albums, Laura’s broken sewing machine, and clothes to be donated to the Goodwill formed piles in the corner behind my door. It was unfair of me to expect them not to use a perfectly good space, I knew, but I still felt a sense of loss for the place that had once been only mine. I surveyed the rest of the room, which looked the same—single bed pressed against the windows, shelves filled with my first books and a series of glass fishbowls containing the seashell collections I’d amassed from summers at the Jersey shore. On the wall hung a sequence of photos of Rahela, Laura, Jack, and me on Rahela’s fifth birthday at Disney World, and posters of terrible punk-noise bands I’d gone to see at the Electric Factory on Friday nights when I was in high school.

The remnants of a flower stencil peeked out from behind my desk, and I smiled with the thought that Laura and my mother might have bonded over their mutual distaste for my tomboyishness; Laura had put the blossoms on the wall and I’d promptly pushed my desk against the spot. When I’d chosen a denim comforter for my bed she’d sewn pink rosebuds in rows up the seams, and whenever she left the room I turned the comforter over to hide the flowers. Now, the roses were faceup again.

“Ana’s home, Ana’s home!” I heard Rahela shouting downstairs amid the heel-click of Laura’s cowboy boots. I slipped the envelope of my past life under my mattress and went downstairs.

“Hey, baby!” said Laura.

“Hi, Ma.”

The first time I called Laura “Mom” was an accident. I’d been playing with Rahela in the driveway when she fell and skinned her knee. The wound was filled with gravel and bled a lot and I scooped her up and ran inside, calling “Mama! Mom!” I found Laura upstairs folding laundry, the cordless phone tucked between her shoulder and chin. When I entered the room saying, “Mom, Rahel—Rachel got hurt,” she raised her head and let the phone drop.

“Sue, I have to call you back,” she said loudly at the phone now on the floor. I handed her Rahela and we went in the bathroom and bandaged her up, and Laura didn’t mention it, though she smiled at me for the rest of the day, as if she was wondering whether or not I had realized what I said. I had, and figured there was nothing I could do to take it back now. But for years onward, each time I said “Mom” or “Dad” a silent prefix of “American” existed in my mind. They were my American parents, and the distinction made me feel less like I was forgetting the other set I’d abandoned in the forest.

“I didn’t know you were coming home. I was just in town. I would’ve gotten you from the train.”

“I needed the walk.”

“Oh gosh, that’s right. How was your speech?”

“What speech?” Rahela said.

“Ana was giving a very important presentation at the United Nations,” said Laura. “Tell me everything! Did you take a picture?”

“Take a picture of myself giving a speech? No. It was no big deal.”

“Maybe if you had longer arms,” said Rahela.

“Huh?”

“Then you could take a picture of yourself.”

“But she wouldn’t have because she never humors her mother,” said Laura, feigning exasperation.

“You can have my name tag.” I dug the crumpled guest pass out of my pocket.

“Take what I can get,” Laura said, and stuck it to the fridge.



At dinnertime we met Jack for pizza and bumper bowling.

“What are you doing home, girlie?”

“Just visiting.”

“Remember, Ana was giving that speech today,” Laura said.

“I didn’t forget,” said Jack. He pulled me into a bear hug, and I liked that I would probably always feel little inside his embrace. “How was it?”

“Odd,” I said.

“Did they put sanctions on you? They’re putting sanctions on everyone and their mother these days.”

“I’m gonna give you all sanctions if you don’t come play,” said Rahela, squeezing between us on the bench.

“Surprisingly accurate use of the word,” I said. In the scorekeeping computer, Jack named us after Taxi Driver characters, and we all bowled terribly and laughed hard and for a few hours that was enough.

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