The Difference Between You and Me(30)
Jesse thinks, Mom, you knew about the vigil?
“Sure, from the old days. I must have been on a hundred marches with those two. What are they, pushing eighty by now? They’re indefatigable. Fatiguing to others, perhaps, but indefatigable themselves.”
“I know, aren’t they incredible?” Esther gushes. “I consider them my honorary grandparents. I wish I could move in with them.”
“Wow.” Fran nods.
“I’ve never met anyone more committed to social justice than Margaret and Charlie, have you?” Esther speaks fiercely.
Fran raises her eyebrows. “I…”
“I want to be just like them when I grow up. They never stop learning new things, they’re always figuring out what the next problem is they need to tackle. Like just today they were talking about trying to stop StarMart from moving into town. Do you know about that?”
“Absolutely,” Fran says. “I was just reading in the paper that they haven’t gone away since Frank and Jane refused to sell, they’ve just adjusted their strategy. They’re bad bad bad, those guys. Major-league baddies. They ruin local economies and abuse their workers. And Jess, they give money to antigay political candidates; you of all people should hit the barricades for this one.”
“We need to work on this,” Esther asserts, fully energized now. “Jesse and I are starting our own peace and social justice organization and we were looking for a project to collaborate on. This is perfect!”
“You two have formed an organization?”
“Not officially,” Jesse says hastily. “Informally.”
“Jesse has agreed to lend the marketing skills she’s developed as part of NOLAW to help my new organization, SPAN, improve its outreach to the student body.”
Fran smiles. “I feel a little like I’m at a UN subcommittee meeting and I don’t have my translator headphones on,” she says. “SPAN? NOLAW? Fill me in here, please.”
“Well, you know NOLAW,” Esther says brightly, “Jesse’s organization that produces the funny manifestos?”
“I’m afraid I don’t. Tell me more.”
Jesse leans her head back and closes her eyes.
“You don’t know about Jesse’s hilarious manifestos that she puts up copies of all over school every few weeks?”
“I do not. But I’m starting to get a sense of why my toner bill has been so astronomical lately.”
“Jesse, I can’t believe you haven’t shown your mom your manifestos. They’re so wonderful. I’m sure she’d love them.”
“I’m sure I would.”
“And SPAN is my organization, Student Peace Action Network, and now Jesse and I are joining forces, and this is just perfect for us. Hey, Jesse, if they’re sponsoring the dance that’s coming up, why don’t we do some kind of action to disrupt that?”
“I don’t know if a Vander dance is the greatest place for an action,” Jesse says. “I’ve been to one. It was incredibly stupid.”
Fran raises her eyebrows in surprise. “When did you go to a school dance?”
“Last year, I went to one for like five minutes, I told you about it.”
“You never told me that.”
“I’m sure I told you. Maybe I forgot. Whatever. Dances are totally gender-oppressive and awful.”
“Well, maybe we don’t have to actually go to the dance to disrupt it, maybe we can just try to prevent StarMart from sponsoring it or something. Why don’t you come over to my house and we can do some research and plan out our strategy?”
“Great idea!” says Fran overheartily. Jesse gives the back of her head a quizzical look.
“Sure,” Jesse says.
“Like, Tuesday? After school?”
“I can’t Tuesday. What about Saturday?”
“Yeah, if I don’t have ASP. I probably won’t; I’m not planning any in-school actions this week.”
“I’ll drive you,” Fran interjects.
“That’s cool, Mom. I can take the bus or whatever.”
“Well, I’ll pick you up when you’re done, then.”
“Thanks, Mom. But chill.”
When Esther goes to get out of the car, Fran leans over and shakes her hand.
“I have to say, Esther, it’s been very educational meeting you. I’ve learned so many new things about my daughter in such a short time. Apparently, she goes to dances, runs political organizations—”
“Yeah, thanks for the vigil,” Jesse says, cutting her mother off. “I’ll see you next Saturday, Esther. Or before that, in school.”
After Esther has extracted herself and her equipment from the car, made it up the long, narrow concrete steps to her house, and disappeared through her front door, Jesse climbs into the front seat next to her mother. Fran sits there for a moment with the key in the ignition but the Camry turned off.