Am I Right or Am I Right? by Barry Jonsberg Read Free Book Online

possibly to cower in the corner of the garden or maybe do a little ironing. Mrs. Aldrick kept a tidy place. Even the cockroaches wiped their feet before they came into her house.
    Vanessa was sitting up in bed, in the lotus position, her wrists balanced delicately on her knees, fingers making an O. Her eyes were closed in an annoying I’m-so-relaxed-even-the-corners-of-my-eyes-don’t-crinkle-when-they’re-shut fashion. I’d been in this situation before. Vanessa was so deep in her transcendental trance that nothing would rouse her until she was ready. Loud coughs, a low-flying jet plane, an earthquake measuring six on the Richter scale—none of these would have any effect. So I sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
    Eventually Vanessa opened her eyes and let her breath out in one long, slow exhalation. I didn’t say anything. I knew there was a routine we had to go through first. Vanessa continued to take deep, deliberate breaths, her diaphragm swelling like that guy’s in the first
Alien
movie just before something nasty erupted from his rib cage. A low hum issued from her nose. This was some kind of mantra. It might have been “om,” but I don’t have Vanessa’s fluency in meditation-speak, so I can’t swear to it. I continued to wait.
    Finally, her eyes lost their hypnotic glaze, she shook her head slightly, and Vanessa was back on the plane of existence where she could communicate with the unenlightened. She brushed her long, fair hair back from her face, pale freckles framed by two straight, shining curtains.
    “Hello, Calma,” she intoned.
    I say “intoned” not because I want to be artsy-fartsy, but because Vanessa’s voice never expresses much in the way of emotion. It was like one of those computer-generated simulations of human speech that invests as much excitement into “Today is Sunday” as “Woohoo! I’ve won twenty-four million dollars in the lottery!” Vanessa’s voice always gave the impression that communication was something she found tiring. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had to take a nap after the exertion of a complete sentence.
    “I’ve got a boyfriend,” I blurted out.
    Okay, this wasn’t quite the way I had practiced breaking the news. I’d intended leading up to it gently, throwing it in casually when the opportunity arose.
    (
“It’s funny you should bring up refugee internment, Vanessa, because I was just saying to Jason yesterday…Jason? Haven’t I mentioned Jason to you? Good heavens, mind like a sieve. He’s just a guy who finds me irresistibly attractive. I’ve agreed to go out with him this week. It was easier to agree than listen to his blubbering and pleading. Anyway, he was gazing up at me adoringly—you know, drinking in every word—and I said, ‘Jason, the thing about this government’s policy on refugee status…’”
)
    I hadn’t meant to give the impression that a date with a guy was something totally unexpected, like the reappearance of the Tasmanian tiger. Blew that big-time. It was all I could do to stop myself bouncing up and down on her bed, clutching my hair in both hands, shrieking incoherently.
    Vanessa raised one eyebrow two microns and I knew she was shocked to the core of her being.
    “A boyfriend?” she said. “Why?”
    “What do you mean, why?” I said. “What kind of a question is that? How about ‘Who?’ or ‘Dish me the dirt, girlfriend’?”
    “Hmmm,” said Vanessa, uncurling her legs with the speed and elegance of a spreading flower. “Let’s have a cup of dandelion tea and you can tell me about it.”
    It was a long sentence for Vanessa and it obviously took a lot out of her, because five minutes elapsed before we made it into the kitchen.
    Mrs. Aldrick prepared tea and put out a tray of cheese, rice crackers and seedless grapes. I offered to help, but she twitched manically as if I’d suggested initiating a nuclear strike on North Korea, and scuttled off with little whimpers of anxiety. Vanessa and I sat at