The Namesake by Steven Parlato

the damp blotter, breath rasping like paper. “I don’t know what happened on encounter, but it changed him. After, he was like a pod person from that movie.”
    “
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
?”
    He nodded. “Your father seemed diminished, bled dry. He shut everyone out, broke up with Melody, refused to speak to me. He even …” taking a brush from the vase on his desk, avoiding my eyes, he continued, “… became disruptive in art. Eventually, he dropped the class.”
    “Disruptive how?”
    “I’d rather not say. It was so long ago.”
    “Did he ever mention your palanca letter?”
    “Never. Finally, I decided to ambush him. I showed up at his house. Your grandmother was very kind. She must’ve fed me a dozen brownies while I waited for him to come out of his room. When he wouldn’t, she even gave me a ride home.
    “As she maneuvered the station wagon, she said, ‘He’ll come around. He’s going through a tough time, is all. Barely leaves that bedroom. Thank God, he still has Father Fran because he’s stopped talking to us.’ She said they were ‘trying to give him his space.’
    “I started up the walk, but she yelled, ‘Tony, I almost forgot! He asked me to give you this, said you’d understand.’ She passed me an envelope. As I leaned in the window to take it, she kissed my hand and said, ‘Be good, Anthony.’ And then she drove away.”
    “What was it?” It couldn’t have been as interesting as the gift Gran gave me.
    “I ran straight to my room and tore it open. Inside was a picture of Evan and me in a canoe on Gardner Lake, the copy of
The
Catcher in the Rye
I’d lent him, and my palanca letter, still sealed. He’d taped a note to the envelope.”
    “Do you remember what it said?”
    “Gee, I think so.” His lip lifted in a grim effort to smile.
    Eerie. Suddenly I saw the sad kid he used to be. Staring at his hands, he recited my father’s words from memory.
    “‘Tony, you’re a good friend. But I figured out some stuff on encounter. Not that
I’m lovable
shit. Bad stuff — about myself. It’s better if we stop being friends. I’m not the person you think. Not really. Don’t blame yourself. And please, don’t make it any harder by calling me.’”
    “What did you do?”
    “What could I do? I respected his wishes. Kept my distance. Hoped for the best. For a while, I believed what your grandmother said, that he’d ‘come around.’ By the time I accepted he wasn’t going to, it didn’t seem to matter.”
    I knew I should say something. Instead, I just sat there, mouth open, in what Dad would call fly-catcher mode.
    “Well, Evan … I hope I’ve answered your questions satisfactorily. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see to the kiln.”
    I hesitated for just a moment, seeing an opportunity.
    “I could stick around, Mister P — if you need a hand.”
    He refused, politely. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a pang, remembering what he’d said about tsunamis. I was afraid I’d blown our friendship out of the water.
    Lex met me by the flagpole after homeroom.
    “So, that went seamlessly, wouldn’t you say?”
    I couldn’t help being pissed, even though I knew it wasn’t fair. She’d done it all for me.
    “Look, I don’t think I can talk to you right now, Alexis.”
    “Don’t tell me you’re mad.” And she did this kick-line thing, singing, “Can’t regret what I did for Ev.”
    “That’s what I mean. Can’t you ever be serious, just act normal?”
    “Normal’s in the eye of the beholder. Besides, you got some answers, right? Somebody had to put it out there, or we’d still be hearing about the friggin’ Greek Isles.”
    “Okay. I couldn’t have done it without you. That’s the thing — I wish I could be spontaneous, too.”
    “Believe me, it takes loads of prep to be this impetuous.” Then she flashed that smile.
    “Lex, I’m wiped. I’ll call you later, okay?”
    “Hey, are we all right, Ev?”
    “We’ll always be all