Read Online The Blonde of the Joke by Bennett Madison - Free Book Online

been. A fist-size crystal paperweight fora heart. It’s possible that she was a robot or a hologram. But aren’t those things real, too?
    I loved Francie. I mean, I was in love with Francie. But not in a lesbo way. It wasn’t like that. I loved Francie because she had seen something in me that I had never suspected. Because she had unlocked it. She had taught me how to steal. I loved Francie because she was beautiful. Because she was tall. And most of all, because I could not imagine a question that she could not answer. If she didn’t know it off the top of her head, she would make something up and be right without even really meaning to be.
     
    Christmas was coming fast. The mall was more jammed every day, and the carols on the sound system got more and more insistent. In the middle of December, it took twenty minutes to make it from Club Libby Lu to Build-a-Bear Workshop; there were just that many people crowding the way. Sitting on the fountain, staring up at the wannabe firmament of tiny white lights strung from skylight to skylight, we imagined ourselves as part of something larger than ourselves.
    We were at the Gap ten days before Christmas break, and I had just dropped a lamb’s-wool sweater into my bag when I heard my name in a voice I didn’t recognize. Shit. I turned around slowly and saw an older, dark-haired girl—in her midtwenties, I figured—standing there, a hand on her hip, kind of smiling at me like we were oldfriends. I had no idea who she was.
    “Val?” she asked. “Is that you?”
    “I just want to try it on,” I said. “I was just about to go to the dressing room.” But the girl gave me a blank look.
    “It’s me, Liz,” she said. “Don’t you remember me?”
    Then it came to me. It was Liz Jordan, my brother Jesse’s old girlfriend from years ago. I couldn’t believe that she had recognized me; I’d been just a little kid the last time I’d seen her.
    “Hey,” I said. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to react. “What’s up?” I nodded in greeting.
    “It is you!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it! Last time I saw you you were, what, ten years old?”
    “I guess so,” I said. “Or younger?”
    Liz squealed and wrapped her arms around me. “It’s so awesome to see you! You’re all grown-up and everything. You look amazing. Your haircut’s awesome!” She pulled away and stood back, regarding me. “I just want to look at you,” she said. “Oh my God!” And she ran her fingers across my scalp, mussing what hair I still had.
    Francie appeared from wherever she had been. Her earrings were glinting in a way that told me she was saddled down with plenty of loot. She looked from me to Liz and back again. “Hey,” she said.
    “Francie, this is Liz,” I said. “Liz, this is Francie.”
    Francie looked confused. “Hey,” she said. “So, like, howdo you guys know each other? Are you in high school?”
    Liz blushed. “I used to date Val’s big brother before he turned into a giant homo,” Liz informed Francie, who raised an eyebrow. Liz didn’t notice, just turned back to me. “Even though, now that I think about it, that was the least of the problem. We’re supposedly best friends, but I haven’t seen him in, like, at least a year and a half. I mean, we talk on the phone sometimes, but you know how he can be.” She cocked her head and put her thumb to her ear, switching into an impersonation of my brother. “‘Uh-huh. Yep. Sure. Next week. Yep.’” Liz rolled her eyes. “Like, give me something. Just a fucking word. It’s like he would prefer for no one to care about him. Well, sorry, but I’m your fucking best friend, Jesse.”
    “You sound like my mom,” I said. “Except that my mom doesn’t actually say any of that.”
    “Ha. Well, maybe that’s why he doesn’t like talking to me. Whatever. He’s doing better these days, right?”
    “It’s not like I would know. Last I heard, he was living in Harlem with some sixty-year-old