Crystal (Orphans 2)

"They're pretty predictable," I commented. "What's that mean?" Thelma asked, batting her eyelashes.

"It means they're not hard to figure out," Karl said. "They're simple."

"Oh." She laughed her thin laugh. "They're hard for me," she said.

Karl gazed at me, and we talked about something else. I felt bad about it and afterward apologized.

"I didn't mean to make fun of your programs, Thelma," I said.

"Oh, did you make fun of them? I didn't think you did. How could you make fun of them? They're so full of excitement and romance. Don't you like that?"

"I like good stories, yes," I said.

"There, then. I knew you would. Don't forget, tomorrow we'll learn about November's ex-husband. Do you think he still loves her?"

"I don't remember him," I admitted. She looked at me as if I had said the silliest thing

"You can't forget Edmond. He's s0000 handsome. If he came to my front door, I'd swoon," she told me, following with her little, thin laugh.

I wondered if everyone who watched soap operas was as committed to them and as involved with them as Thelma was. A few days later, one of her favorite characters died on Days in the Sun. I came in on the show just as it happened, and she began to sob so hard, I got frightened. She started to shout at the television set.

"He can't be dead. He can't be. How can he die? Please don't let him die. Oh, Crystal, he's dead! Grant's dead! How can he be dead?"

"People die in real life, Mom," I said, "so they have to have some die in the shows, don't they?"

"No," she insisted, her face filled with more anger than I had seen up until now. "It's not fair. They got us to love him, and now they've killed him. It's not fair!" she cried.

She went into a deep depression afterward, and nothing I could say or do changed it. She was still that way when Karl came home and we all sat down to dinner. He asked why she was so sad, and she told him and then burst into tears again. He looked at me, and I looked down at my plate. My heart was thumping. I didn't know what to say.

"You're frightening your daughter," Karl remarked. She looked at me and swallowed back her sobs. "Oh. I didn't mean to frighten you, Crystal. It's just so sad."

"It's only a show, Mom," I said. "Tomorrow, something new will happen, and you'll feel better."

"Yes, yes, I will. That's right. See Karl, see how smart she is?"

"That I do," Karl said.

We finished our meal, but afterward, I found Thelma in her rocker just staring at the floor.

"I'm going upstairs to read and sleep now," I said.

"What? Oh, yes, good night, dear. Try to think good thoughts. Poor Grant," she said. "It makes me think of how it was when Karl's mother died."

I stared at her. How could the death of a real person be the same as the death of a soap opera character?

"He's an actor, Mom. He'll be back on another show," I said softly.

"Who is?"

"Grant?'

"No, silly," she said. "Grant's not an actor. Grant was a person who died. I don't think of them as actors," she admitted. She started rocking again and stared at the floor. "Everyone will be so sad tomorrow on the show, so sad."

"Maybe you shouldn't watch it, then," I suggested. She looked up at me as if what I had said was blasphemous.

"I've got to watch it, Crystal. I care about them all. They're my friends," she said. She made it seem as if they knew she was watching and they depended on her.

She looked at the floor again instead of kissing me good night as she had done from the first day I had arrived. I hurried upstairs to sleep. I didn't know exactly why, but for the first time since I had come to live there, I felt a little trepidation. I lay there wondering why. I guess I was afraid that my new mother would always care more about her characters than she would about me.