She looked at me as if I were as poor as all the other patrons of the Cobalt Wal-Mart. For a while, I had been. A few months after coming to Cobalt, my savings had depleted down to almost nothing. I couldn’t draw from anything in my father’s account-it was all going to the Center. Medicare paid for Stella’s hospital costs, but I’d had no idea how she paid for anything else. Finally, I’d broken down and asked her. ‘The Internet,’ she told me.
She walked me to my father’s old room. Inside the closet were piles of unopened boxes of toys. A lot of it was Star Wars paraphernalia, action figures and the X-Wing fighter and comic books and statues. ‘Ruth used to buy Richard all kinds of crap, long after he left,’ Stella explained. ‘I put one of the things on eBay last year just to make some space in the closet, and some dumbass paid five hundred dollars for it. Can you imagine, for this crap?’ She held up a box; inside was a Yoda figurine. ‘Now, what the hell is this thing? Why is he so hideous?’
She was slow at using the old computer she’d bought from one of the Elkerson boys, but I wasn’t. I was able to list plenty of things on eBay every week. And people bought them. I couldn’t believe how many toys were in that closet, sealed up and in mint condition, ready for my father or Steven or me to come home and play with them.
‘Stella’s happy you came.’ I tried again now, standing close to Samantha’s straight back. ‘She always talks about you. She wishes you’d come more.’
‘You know…’ Samantha turned the box over and inspected the bottom. ‘This one looks like it’s been tampered with. Do you think it was a return? I don’t like the idea of someone else drinking from my glasses.’ She peered into the shelf. ‘Do you see any more like this?’
‘I think she’s nervous about going to the healer tomorrow,’ I went on.
‘Well, I can see why.’ Samantha sniffed. ‘And I wouldn’t expect you, of all people, to buy into a crazy person like that. I thought you were into science and medicine. Didn’t you go to school for biology?’
My insides warmed. So she did know a little about me. ‘Medicine isn’t exactly working, is it?’ But I’d asked myself this same question. Yes, I believed in science, but maybe we could believe in Cheveyo, too. Just this once. And maybe it would work, just this once. ‘Anyway, Stella would love it if you came with us.’
Samantha turned to me, lowering the box to her waist. ‘You know I can’t, Summer. I have my conference.’
‘You don’t have to go.’
Something skipped across her face, and then submerged. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Stella’s afraid of the Amish. And you could be a big help to us-you know all about health, what with your vitamin routine and all.’
Samantha stared fixedly at a picture of a woman and man toasting on a box of margarita glasses. The woman looked like her, with shiny chestnut hair and dark pink lips. I hated myself for sucking up to her.
We stood there for a while, looking in opposite directions. Back at the snack bar, a line of people waited for food. The place was crammed with teenagers, the girls in heavy makeup and tight jeans, the boys in baggy, oversized shorts. It was possible that Wal-Mart was the cool place in Cobalt to hang out.
After a while, Samantha looked up. ‘I meant to tell you. Philip was asking about you.’
I looked over at her. ‘Philip…who used to live down the street?’
She nodded.
‘You…know him?’ I felt like my heart might stop.
‘I went to high school with him. So yeah.’
‘I mean, do you know him now?’
‘We’re on the same high school reunion email list. I wrote an email to the list saying that I’d gotten married, and then I wrote another one that Chris and I bought a house. He wrote me back about two weeks ago, asking how I was, congratulating me, you know. Then he asked if I still spoke to you.’
Philip was a ghost in my head; I couldn’t even remember what he looked like. A new couple had moved into Philip’s old house, a pie-faced young man and woman with an enormous red pickup truck.
‘He’s in New York,’ Samantha volunteered, as if aware of my thoughts. ‘Or he was, two months ago. He works for an architecture company. I don’t remember the name.’ Samantha rooted through the other shelves of glasses. ‘Wouldn’t you know it? This opened box is the only one.’
‘How long has Philip been in New York?’ My skin prickled. Perhaps Philip went to New York because I lived there. Maybe he thought he’d find me. But I pushed that thought quickly away, mortified that I’d even considered it.
‘Um…he went to college there. I think he never left.’
‘What school did he go to?’
Samantha straightened up, exasperated. ‘I don’t know, Summer. I didn’t really ask him that many questions.’ She picked up the tampered-with box of glasses. ‘I guess we’ll have to go with this one and wash them really well.’
I was jealous that Philip had written to Samantha. If only he knew the truth-I still thought Steven showing up the night Philip and I were talking had been because Samantha had told him to. Then again, maybe Philip wouldn’t care. Maybe Samantha had already told Philip, and he’d found the whole thing amusing.
‘I have Philip’s email address if you want it,’ Samantha said. ‘And his phone number.’