Jeanie called! Jeanie. Happy Birthday to me.
I said: Sister, how are you?
She said: Sister, all is well. Things are just dreamy and easy out here in California. I dance and play all day.
I said: That’s living.
She said: I miss you though. I always miss you.
We both started crying like crazy. A fella came up to get a ticket for the two o’clock show and I shut the curtain on him, yelled at him to come back later. He knocked on the window and I growled at him.
I said: Don’t make me come out there. I will smite you.
Jeanie said: You’re still working too hard.
I said: Someone’s got to pay the bills around here.
She said: How’s Rosie?
I said: Why don’t you call her and find out?
She said: I might do that.
I know she won’t. It’s foolish, the two of them not talking like that. Jeanie’s scared, I know it. You don’t get to break someone’s heart twice like that and get off scot-free. You have to walk through a little fire first.
Mazie’s Diary, January 1, 1929
I thought I’d see Tee, wish her the best for a New Year, but she’s nowhere, disappeared. It’s been weeks. No Christmas either. I had a gift for her. A small scented pillow for her head. I’ll keep it in the cage. She’ll show up someday.
Mazie’s Diary, February 9, 1929
I took my lunch break in Chinatown, I wanted to see the parade for the Chinese New Year. I’d heard the men banging their drums all the way from Park Row. The brash clash of the cymbals made me feel proud, and I don’t even have anything to brag about. But their pride was enough to buoy me.
It was snowing, but that didn’t stop anything. The gold and red dragon stomping down Canal Street, the white flakes dripping down like crisp tears. Year of the Snake, someone told me. Snakes mean wisdom. I’m going to take that as a good sign. I’ll be smarter this year. I’ll wise up this time around.
Then there was Tee at my elbow. I threw my arms around her, and nearly wouldn’t let her go. She laughed at me. She said we should keep moving, it was cold, we’d catch our death. So we walked arm in arm through Chinatown, following the parade, schoolchildren all around us, the rattle of their laughter, chattering, chasing the dragon.
I said: Where have you been?
She said: I’ve been run-down.
I said: You’re not avoiding me then?
She said: Why would I avoid you? I’ve been tired. Those moments when I’m not caring for others I’m sleeping. It’s winter. It’s cold.
I said: That’s a lot of reasons why.
She said: I wouldn’t lie to you.
I said: I know that. It was only that I wondered where you were.
She said: This is not about you. This is about those children, and the abuse that they suffer. And the tenements are a disgrace. Everything is a disgrace. I feel as if I plug one hole and another starts to leak and it is all I can do to keep myself dry, let alone those smaller or weaker than myself.
We stopped walking and the crowds following the parade passed around us. Tee looked devastated and exhausted, and I thought thinner, and older, like a withering piece of straw, and not like my sweet Tee anymore, but someone else, another girl, a sad one, one that I would pass on the street and worry if she were all right.
I said: All right, Tee, I understand.
She said: Sometimes I feel like I only have so many prayers in me.
She gasped and grabbed my arm.
She said: Don’t ever tell anyone I said that.
I said: Who would I tell?
Mazie’s Diary, February 14, 1929
A postcard from the Captain.
It said: I’m a father now.
I’ll be sure and send a present.
Pete Sorensen
Even though I wanted to know what happened, I still didn’t want to show the diaries to anyone, because it seemed like she wanted them to be a secret. I was cool with that; I respected that. It was like we would have a secret together, Mazie and me.
But then I met you, and my first thought was that you would appreciate it just because you’re such a special lady. For sure I thought you would know what to do with it, if it even made sense to do anything with it. You said you thought you could fill in the blanks, you could try to anyway, and that you could make it a project, like a professional project for yourself. I’m all about making projects for yourself.
Also we talked about how you hadn’t been passionate about anything in a while. Me, I’m passionate all the time. I’m always busy, the shop’s going well, I’ve got people working for me that I care about. Even if I’m not being hands-on all the time, I like doing the design work. Also being a good boss is a thing I care about. There are a lot of things I care about in my life, and there are people who need me just to show up every day and be me.
But all of your film projects had been a dead end. You couldn’t find funding for anything, like, arty. And even though this wasn’t a film project, you said it felt akin to what you had done in the past. You were looking for a passion project. So I said you could have the diary for a while if you thought it would help. And now here you are traipsing all over the place, tracking down anyone who has any little bit of information about Mazie.
It’s funny, isn’t it? How we can treat the same fascination so differently. I’d have daydreamed forever about her.
Mazie’s Diary, March 1, 1929
Tee’s sicker than I thought.
I hadn’t seen her in a month, longer, two, I lost count. I thought she disappeared on me. I thought I’d done something wrong. I thought I’d never see her face again, and that she didn’t care to see mine either. I stopped my clean living. I dug my flask out.
Rosie said: What’s wrong with you? Why you mooning about?
I thought I saw her yesterday morning from far away, another nun on a corner, talking to a wicked-looking girl. Lipstick on fire. Me, I thought. That should be me. I’m your wicked-looking girl. I waved, but she wasn’t Tee after all. She was old, much older, and she didn’t smile at me, she didn’t wave back. Where’s Tee? I was thinking it all day. I drank more than I should have. I dropped in on Finny’s after work. I hadn’t stayed out late in so long. I decided to find her, to climb up her castle.
I walked downtown, past her beloved Seton Shrine. I crossed myself in front of it even though I didn’t know what it meant to do that, but I knew it meant something. Praying she’d never abandon me, Tee wouldn’t. Not by choice. Not my Tee.
The dark lobby, the elevator down, the elevator always down. Up the stairs, my head swirling as I walked, drunk as I was. A huddle of nuns outside her room, silent but for one.
I said: Where is she, where’s Tee, where’s my friend?
And no one answered.
I said: Is it TB? I don’t care, I’ll see her anyway.
They shook their heads.
It’s not TB. Her breast is sick. The right one.
I said: Let me see her.
They didn’t stop me, I’d like to have seen them try.
She’s skin and bones, bones and skin. She’d been losing weight for a while and I hadn’t noticed. No one had noticed. Tee hadn’t told a soul she wasn’t feeling well. She’d had too much to do, is what she told me. I touched her cheek with my hand, I said her name. I leaned in close.
She said: You’re drunk.
I said: I am.
She said: Now I have to pray for you tonight all over again. Just when I thought I was done with all that.
I said: Stop it. I’m praying for you, I’m praying for you!
She said: I’ll take your prayers, Mazie. Bless you.
Then she put her hand to my cheek.
She said: But you absolutely must brush your teeth first.